Typical Guardian Readers

I'm firmly in their woolly pullovered demographic but that was never my intention: Grown up family, three cats, retired, to the left of centre, quizzical and critical, watch Netflix now and then, concerned about the future, a bit hypocritical, try to eat right but don't, weary of politics and human idiocy, bored with any arty or theatrical stuff. I still check the news most days because I've a need to feel I'm keeping up. The Guardian on-line being more entertaining than most media sources but I don't agree with a few of the editorials, some featured material or the positioning of news. 

Too much weekend whinging, grandiosity and contradiction and that just switches me right off. Can't be bothered with guest pieces that are either vague muddles of inarticulate grumbles or mindless, ignorant privileged rants. Also Scotland barely gets a mention unless it's food, holidays or some not too well informed piece about nationalism; but still I come back, maybe it's for the cocktail of world photos right at the end. Bungle the sleepy cat finds it all pretty dull but still a good place to nap.

Two Restarts

Two restarts and a cold, cold heart: Living with an aging laptop is, I presume a bit like living with an aging relative of some sort. The grumpy soul who you feed with soup, small talk and AC/DC on the headphones while trying to ignore the numerous slip-ups they make. So as my laptop is too old for an upgrade to the lofty heights of  Windows 11 we struggle along together through the maze of regular Windows updates, administered like the bedside drip of drugs or fluids plumbed into the limp arm of some terminally ill patient. There is a real buzz of satisfaction when it's done and knowing that Windows is smooth to use for a while.

Without these regular clinical boosts and the ever lengthening restarts that accompany them it would all be over in seconds as the Windows 10 mechanism and it's aging processors slowly slip away into a numb coma of flickering chips and failing connections. Then total shutdown and onwards into the pile in that special place where old laptops are stacked awaiting ... a fate nobody quite knows anything about. They are simply there like the old phones, chargers and connectors that we have no more use for but can't quite face the treacherous act of disposing of them.

But it's not dead yet. I see it as being a bit like a classic car, overtaken and made obsolete by bland looking EVs, bristling with screens and apps, fancy door handles, distinctly iffy build quality and a pitiful range. All the faithful laptop needs is that odd jump start to get going again to get back to wagging a finger at you and crunching a few of your files. It's not as if I'm asking much of it either, it's hardly pulling a caravan, nope, just a few documents to tweak, editing photos and routine browsing mainly. It's in a permanent and sedate retirement place really but for those bullies at Microsoft shoving down our throats the fairly obvious news that it can never be compatible with Windows 11, oh no, never and that's their final word. We're living the twilight life of the cancelled.

I recall Apple doing the same over their operating systems in my Mac Book days. Just keep churning out the devices and make sure everybody has to keep up, all appliances are cash cows. Obviously they're right in as much as the systems move on but it just riles the gristle filled, stubborn part of me that admires 40 year old fridges, real books, cassette decks and the odd German built sports car from the last century. Whatever happened to those ridiculous ideas of sustainability and continuous improvement that might consider the end user as possibly being important?

When We Got Older

An old friend is featured in a film: When we got older we headed off in different directions. It turns out that this is a common experience, in other words it often happens and happens often. We move even if we stand still but that's all in the past now and the maps are lost. Everybody thinks, "I've never done good things, I never did bad things, I never did anything", or so it seems at times. We leave a trail and a legacy, all of us; but this is about the graphic scores, the artwork, delirious museums, Dundee, countless reflections and a whole lot more. An actual documentary. See/stream/download the film* here. 

 

Cats have no real ear for music. They often seem indifferent and a bit different. You try to tell them to listen up but do they even care?

This is happening in real time as opposed to some other kind of time. The quickness of the hand deceives the eye. There will be a full explanation.

Everything is open to interpretation. Everything can be spontaneous and can be improvised. I'm doing some of that right now.

Behold: The Graphic Score.

*These screen shots are all deliberately badly done by me, mainly for effect.

Octopus Curiosity

I know it's hardly important these days but we did have a bit of discussion about track order when we were putting together the album "collection". Track order in these days of streaming might seem a naive idea and unnecessary and that may well be correct, however it is satisfying to put your songs into some kind of order, like books on a shelf or the final edit of a long article. 

The song "curiosity" created an interesting problem for us. It's more of a kids song than anything else so where do you place it in the track order? It shouldn't jar with the others but needs to stand up for itself and still fit into the overall flow of the album. Of course that's easier said than done. In the end we went for an Abbey Road solution; we thought of Octopus's Garden and where that sat and the impact it had. Small fry like us can look up and learn from the legends even if nobody else really cares. So it's there, second from last (as per the first side of AR), works for me too.

This is the second Curiosity video. The first was a 16 Bit styled Rotor effort, just to get something done really. This newer version is an odd mix of AI cats, cafes, noodles and jumpy animation. Working on a zero budget with limited skills and resources gets us here, all scuppered of course by the constraints of the YouTube algorithm. If you don't have 1000 subscribers you can't be taken seriously and get listed ... how do you get 1000 subscribers? Make better content?

The Persistence of Paper

Polyptych. 

The shallow depth of a single sheet of blank paper. 

Photo real montage. 

Wordlessly saying nothing.  

An original piece that is instantly forgettable. 

As exciting as standing on one leg. 

How profound is the single bead of sweat upon the brow of an artist staring up into the midday sun? 

Paper can be made from trees or grass but looks like neither in the end unless you draw or print such an image onto the blank page. 

A rough scribble may be enough to convey the idea. 

Our minds are designed to recognize suggested shapes in all manner of things. 

The medium is irrelevant. 

Is a question a question without a question mark. 

One sunny day in Memphis 3500 years ago the Egyptians invented paper. 

I could be wrong.

Wrap ideas in it very tightly before you write down your thoughts.

What are your thoughts anyway?

Dr Who: Return From the Bin

 

Doctor Who is already lost in a world of AI and heritage based confusion, with over exposure and over blown attempts to remain relevant, as some might quite reasonably say. I know I don't watch it anymore, but I do like the breaking news story of BBC employees who, rather than throw away original 1960s Dr Who filmed episodes, took it upon themselves to save the precious classic TV series by taking them home and simply hoarding them rather than dump them in the bin as ordered. You have to wonder what the fuck was going on at the BBC in the 1960s, too mean to pay for storage space?

The hoarders must have known that a day of reckoning would come and lived in fear of it, as if criminals who'd committed a massive but unreported robbery. Now older and afraid of the establishment's retribution and presumed white hot wrath they are conflicted and as frozen in inaction as the films they possess. 

Dear unemployed script writers everywhere, here's your new drama series (or at least a decent 60 minute playlet) to batter out of your greasy Mac-books. The punchline is that many, not all, of these almost mythical but rescued and now theoretically available episodes are pretty much artistic shit and completely unwatchable for any modern audience (but there may be a big market in the care home industry).

Um

Growing old in and around social media: One thing I notice is the slow degradation in the comments and postings of those "peripheral" friends we all have. Folks you met a couple of times along the way maybe (if at all) or through some second hand contact and they just stayed in the margins of that unreal slice of life. As they grow older and you observe but don't interact with their comments and output, there's often an gradual element of craziness that emerges. 

These, once seemingly reasonable people just start, often slowly, to kick around ideas and opinions that you didn't quite see coming. Little hints, slurs, awkward wording maybe, or just plain inappropriate nonsense begin to appear. Growing old with a daily blank sheet of paper to fill, plenty of time and no editorial oversight (just like this page I suppose). Welcome to an unhinged world. What could possibly go wrong?

Perhaps someone will spend £10,000 on a Marshall CD juke box?

Touched by the Hand of EVH

 

"Stage played" by Eddie himself.

I took a second look at the auction site selling Clapton's Fool modified Gibson SG, it's everywhere in Insta and FB. There's a lot of other stuff, equipment, keyboards, clothes and costumes, back stage passes etc. I guess as this generation passes on, more and more of this rock and roll debris will wash up from the  bottom of the deep sea that covers most of the drowned wreckage. Some people will make a lot of money, mainly the auction houses. A few roadies and hangers on might too if they gathered up things wisely at the time and also those family members that didn't quite stay onboard the gravy train but held onto some evidence.

This Van Halen "stage played" Kramer is expected to go for $60k or so. Not my thing but it'll eventually hang on some Hard Rock Cafe or investment manager's wall I guess, awaiting the next auction and further projected profit. Hard to imagine what future music stars might auction; the phone it was all recorded on, a sticker covered Mac-book, used VIP vapes, the WhatsApp message tree where the lyrics were written or the passwords for the AI platform that composed the tune?

Desktop Daily Photos

The process of slowly delving into my recent screenshots and finding that not only are they pretty random but also pretty meaningless and inconsequential in their comings and goings. Like sparrows landing on a chimney pot. Proof that I don't really know what I'm doing at any given time as I fiddle on the web. 

The shot above commemorates a mild eBay related spat I had with Yodel, or was it the Chinese Mafia? I'm unsure who was the real power player or solution in the problem. Some badly worded Chinese emails didn't help clarify the delivery, particularly as the item was supposed to be coming from London or thereabouts. It eventually arrived about a week late after suffering some jumpy teleportation problems back and forth at the "local depot". I gave them a 😕 review.

A "Fife Jammer" Kirkcaldy based daily photo and is pretty much self explanatory. This represents a typical day on the roads anywhere.

A famous guitar is up for sale this month. It's a little out of my price bracket. The paint job is in my opinion quite rough but interesting and it does have an incredible history and arguably represents some of Clapton's best playing days. The infamous "woman tone" sound is forever associated with it. Now if it was his Sunburst "Blind Faith" Telecaster with the Strat neck ... I still couldn't afford it.

As an experiment I joined Vimeo and so far nothing has really happened. Then again I'm not one for excessive self promotion and maybe not a good fit for the platform. A drop in a vast bucket I suppose. These zero scoring videos are of course part of a selection you can also find on YouTube here.

Peony Painting

Something to lull you into a peaceful state of careless wonder - a painting of some Peony flowers about to open up and bloom. Things, it seems can only get better. There can be tranquility and reflection and sometimes it's good (as the poem goes) to simply stop and stare.

Miners Undermine the UK

 

As Albert Einstein once famously said "fuck this shit". First it was the miners who undermined the UK and conveniently and at some personal cost brought coal up from the ground as they did it. Well Thatcher put paid to that idea with her economic miracles, now other "miracles" are planned most likely using AI. You can't undermine the UK, if you do you'll be labeled as an extremist. So that's the end of truth I suppose. The thing is, and I hate to point out the obvious, but the UK has been undermining itself for years and this undermining has noticeably accelerated during the Tories stupidly negative 13 years of power. 

Hailed far and wide as a failed state, a political joke or just plain cruel, twisted and corrupt across the world the UK is simply a global embarrassment. In parallel with the Tories self destructive policies I have to admit that in my thoughts, but not generally in my actions, I too have undermined the UK and I quite enjoyed doing it. It's what happens when you feel voiceless and helpless and the (at times dim) national beacon of moral responsibility is finally stubbed out by those who claim to know better.

All I need do is reflect on any of the following:  The legal system, the taxation and financial system, the education system, the class system, health, welfare, environment, industry, immigration, media and defence that have all been destroyed or changed beyond reasonable recognition in my own short lifetime. Even before that it was none too fine either as the UK writhed in the death throes of a delusional colonial power fix, overdosing on it's own vanity and bloody mindedness. The thing is - They Brought It All On Themselves (The Greedy Bastards). So who is an extremist these days?  Probably every right thinking individual, just give me a few minutes and I'll compose a short but meaningful list.

As a person who tends to over extrapolate in all directions from a single point I wondered if doing something like criticizing Morecambe and Wise, World Cup 66, Yorkshire Puddings, Christmas or even the Beatles might now count as undermining the UK in some way. I'm already braced for the impact. Those over inflated British institutions that were the bedrock of British life and sense of self, they're too revered and beloved to tolerate a subtle stabbing from the likes of me. 

Yeah (yeah), rock stars with knighthoods don't really do it for me either. Anyway the "new" Beatles tune is OK but that's about all. I doubt it would've seen the light of day but for AI's influence and Peter Jackson's understandable fanboy enthusiasm. John Lennon is rendered to look pretty strange in the video, like some hairy Scouse Norman Wisdom on speed (as below). I've heard the song twice and I may well hum it in the shower one day. What's next after this? My arrest I'd imagine.

Smelly Cats

The cats are recovering from a weekend of mystery illness that looks a lot like random bouts of vomiting and runny and smelly poo episodes. Yes, three cats all with upset tummies, all slightly out of sync are a bit of a challenge even for experienced owners, by that I mean us. It's not so much a question of knowing what to do or not to do, it's more about vigilance and cleaning up at odd times of the day and night, that and a consistent approach to feeding, hygiene and general welfare. 

They've all eaten normally this morning and taken on liquids, played around a bit and now and thankfully seem to have hit a rest and recovery point which we hope carries on to some peaceful resolution. They still can look decent in photos provided they actually stay put and don't go stir crazy, these restful looking shots were taken just as nap time was coming to a close ... and yes we're not always sure what we're feeding them. 

Don't Rate My Rig

 

Sunday ... Sunday: Pedal boards eh? Yeah don't bother with your ratings, it's a curious mixture and I'm not a cultural parrot either, more a sports car socialist. 50% decent 50% not so. That's a fair way to go, mixing the expendable with the tolerable and the chorus and modulation is on the amp(s) anyway. I doubt that this is fashionable either but that appeals to me obviously. The utility of decking, sticky Velcro and a few pins and clips. Every couple of weeks I just might take it apart. Other times in lives quietly in a blue holdall that holds it's own. 

South Queensferry Daily Lamp Post

I had to sneak around in the bushes to catch this lamp post unaware. To be honest it wasn't that difficult. The street lights around here are particularly slow witted, a bit like the Ents in LOTR. They've forgotten their purpose in life, their heritage and their abilities and are prone to sleeping on the job. They do still light up after dark, mostly. Some just emit a strange pale glow though. Perhaps the clocks going back at the weekend posed them a problem.

Witch

This video and tune is nothing to do with Halloween or any of the malarkey that goes with it. It's a song we wrote based around other real world things. Fear, injustice, ignorance and guilt; normal enough stuff really. I'm posting it today because it's just another piece of shameless self promotion on a day when witch themed material is seen as important. Nothing new there then. I saw somebody writing about the true "Spirit of Halloween" on line. What on earth is that?  Maybe a curious brew of mixed up campy horror genre stuff, a booming pumpkin industry and all the related commercial crap that gets punted out weeks ahead of any significant event on the calendar distilled into some pale and bitter liquid.

Actually it's mostly just fun and a bit better than Christmas ... ugh!

Bored with the Sistine Chapel?

Boredom is banned these days, you can't be bored. Parents don't like their kids to be bored, whatever that means. Bored is bad and you're a neglectful and lazy parent if you tolerate it. So kids get phones, screens, trashy toys, shallow experiences and the rest because that's all better than the dreaded boredom. School, car journeys and relatives are also boring, so I'm told. Just wait till you get a job at Amazon or driving a bus or as a brain surgeon.

I see boredom as more of a gateway or springboard. No matter how you look at it boredom is a temporary state, it's another liminal space on life's err ... journey. When you get out of boredom you step into something worthwhile, maybe not right away but it'll come. You have to have boredom to understand and gain an appreciation for satisfaction and fulfillment. It's all part of the tonal system that gives life a meaning of some kind ... I think.

So what does anything in this have to do with the decorations, paintings and frescoes in the Sistine Chapel? Not much really, I just had a idle thought that perhaps the apprentices and assistants who worked on the project with Michelangelo and the other "name" artists just might have been bored from time to time. The routine and tedium in their daily working life, fetching, carrying, cleaning, filling in spaces with washes of paint, mixing the fresh plaster etc. as the years of decorative work passed by, and yet to their credit they were involved in something that is regarded as one of the greatest artistic accomplishments in human civilization. 

Future Obsessions

The ages of man: I've no idea how I'll turn out. Like some stodgy pudding perhaps. My future self is a dim shadow, even at this magnificent (by Middle Ages standards) age. A future I can neither see or touch, lurking around some awkward corner. Things may remain as they are, things may change, some other outcomes are equally possible. Medical advancements, spiritual progress, economic revolution, well organised government, chaos and disaster. There may be trends and curious predictions, like bad weather forecasts and shaky Tarot readings. 

The truth is always quite different from the expectations of witnesses and history, even recent, can easily be turned into fiction if you have the will and a malleable audience. It may be that, I'll simply turn into the wolf spirit I've always believed myself to be and head for the barren hills. Those wide open but misty spaces with their excellent spiced noodles and warm drinks. The ending would truly be good for the soul. Well for mine, but not yours.

Yes

Yes: This is something that should be standard in every modern home regardless of the type of heating system and fuel used (well it must support radiators I suppose). The food warming, sock drying, plate heating, cat snoozing radiator is what the world needs today. Whatever you might think of the Victorians, and they did get a lot of things wrong, they were spot on with this. If you disagree, as is your right, you're a fine example of an idiot. I hope you have damp, clammy socks.

Cat in Gig Bag

 

The world often seems like a terrible place. I know I mention that sort of thing from time to time. There are pleasant distractions that we all need to treasure to survive, to understand our lives and the context of the situations that we inhabit day by day. The pleasant, simple experiences of our lives are to be savoured and remembered as a baseline when those darker clouds descend. Anyway here's our cat Bungle, whom I've just disturbed, she was having a sneaky snooze in a gig bag.

P.S. Here's another cat (Georgie) in a guitar case shortly afterwards.

Also this: sometimes you have to break the rules.

Castles of Porridge

File under Myths and Legends: Given it's robust texture and inherent physical strength I'm surprised that Scottish engineers have never managed to successfully develop porridge as a usable building material. My sources have however confirmed that in Victorian times a team from Edinburgh University looked into it's use as a medium to build cheap workers homes at the new Naval Base at nearby Rosyth. Tests were carried out but there were "complications". Allegedly some locals entered the site and ate parts of critical load bearing units, a number of serious injuries as well as digestive problems were reported at the time.

This apparent failure may yet have led on to the rumoured experimental Forth Railway Crossing project that was to combine iron, steel and porridge in what would have been an engineering world's first (pretty exceptional anyway). Little is known about how far the testing and design works got before the plan was shelved due to what were described at the time as "conflicts of ideology" within the team. Clearly the times and the science were not right for such an undertaking.

I also believe that in the 1950s there was a proposal from a cartel of Fife landowners and farmers that the new Scottish motorway system should use porridge as an experimental road finish. They undertook to supply the oats and the know how. There are no records as to how this venture ended however there are known to be stretches of the A90 that are still thought of as legacy porridge surface testing areas by BEAR Scotland.

Of course there's the long standing legend that tells of how William Wallace, had he survived English captivity, intended to build a massive porridge castle on the banks of Loch Lomond to hold the proposed garrison that would have protected the "Road to the Isles". It would also have formed his military HQ and be the  seat of his Scottish Government. We can only speculate as to the porridge formula he intended to use, as the recipe and the exact strain of wild oats has been lost due the passage of time and the general illiteracy of the engineers in the 13th century. 

The proposed design for the world's first porridge castle situated near Balloch, to have been built by William Wallace. Note the hot porridge moat - a first even for Scotland: courtesy the Scottish National Museum of Oat Based Antiquities. Part of the "Lofty Peak" Family Collection.