There are an infinite number of possible paths that may have led to every moment in your life but they all somehow get to the same point. Much like how you always end up with a jumbo set of neon coloured freezer bag clips in your man bag whenever you come home from Ikea no matter which convoluted path round the big blue and yellow shop you take. Some call this fate or destiny some dwell upon the mysteries of Karma others just call it dumb fucking luck. Continue reading “The butterfly effect. Again…”
The more observant of you will notice that posts on this blog have been less than prolific as of late. The medical term for this is apparently ‘blog impotence‘.
According to Wikipedia:
The inability to get a ‘blog-on’ can be both humiliating and frustrating and can lead to awkward social media encounters, such as ‘liking’ your school friends meal choices and even Snapchatting with your nieces…
I have been unable to get on top of a good hearty ‘weblog’ in well over a year and to be honest my last sporadic blogular ejaculations have been somewhat disappointing. Leaving me feeling slightly soiled and unappreciated…
So here I am with the wise words of Yoda in my mind – wrapping my dainty man-hands round the reins of a shamefully dusty keyboard to see if I can get back on that Papersurfer horse and ride off into the literary sunset with the cool, spring air whipping through my gracefully thinning hair. To see if I can justify the paultry $9.99 I pay in hosting fees every year and to see if I can untangle my metaphors before I get humped to death by the animal rights police…
This post was going to be about surfing. Which after far too long I have also returned to, with decreasingly painful results. Let’s hope the same can be said about my writing skills…
I didn’t surf today. But I did tune my snowboard ready for ‘Les Pyrenees’…
My apologies – it’s been a while since I’ve whipped out my digital decks and spun a few tunes out into the spacernet. This is a small eclectic mix of the groovy house variety. A bit of mooch, bump, jiggle and the odd bit of ‘hmmmm that’s nice Max….’ would not be inappropriate. Except if the in-laws are staying – then you need to keep it to yourself…
The tracks are as follows (MP3 on VDJ7):
- Kackvogel (original mix) – Solomun
- Movin’ Chris James refix
- Leadbelly (original)
- Sally – Adam Port
- Tread deep – DJ Haze
- Need in me – Flashmob
- The more I want – Eivissa
- A better World – Fred Everything & Giom
(A big thank you to all 14,855 people that have downloaded my podcasts in the last few years! It seems that the Americans, Brits, German and Chinese are the biggest house fans out there, closely followed by the Japanese, French, Australian and a few Russians. The Dutch and ‘Others’ need to get more involved….)
I was going to write a post introducing a list of the best micro novels currently in progress on the internet. These are works of fiction presented in tiny chunks of text via a micro-blogging platform such as Twitter or Facebook. A seemingly brilliant notion that panders to the world’s attention deficit disorder. No rambling monologues or indigestible diatribe. Just plot and dialogue in pieces so small even my father could digest them.
I googled around (I love a good googling on a Friday evening) but was unable to find anything appropriate. A few authors are releasing mini teaser series on facebook to get people hooked before sending them to Amazon but no purpose built micro novels. Fear not, oh reader with miniscule attention span, you can feed your peeny hunger pangs with the latest micro-blog-buster from the Penfold Crockett house of very small publications…
The Dead Monkey Society has just started on Facebook featuring the intrepid Sam Phoenix (I chose FB as the base platform so I can do some illustrations occasionally) you can also check updates on Twitter (@samuelphoenix).
If anybody knows any micro-novels currently in progress please leave a link in the comments below…
I didn’t surf today. A clown just got murdered…
Living in the foothills of the Serra de Estrella in central Portugal is supposed to be an idyllic existence – stunning picture postcard scenery, perfect weather all enhanced by friendly and convivial neighbours. Aging donkeys retiring peacefully by the river, toothless old crones carrying bags of washing on their heads. Just the sound of birds in the trees, the river bubbling through the granite rocks and an old peasant man hacking up some phlegm on his way to market.
What I’ve experienced over the last 20 years certainly has included all of these elements but there are many other bitter tasting ingredients to spoil the taste of this delicious metaphor pie. I won’t get started on the hideous mouldy concrete building developments marring the countryside or the fact that it pisses down with rain for half of the year. I’ll stick to the continual theft of my belongings I’ve suffered whilst living here.
The most recent happened a few days ago whilst we were slumbering beneath a full and shining moon. Some thieving Gypsy bastards relieved my truck of a pair of brand new batteries. A relatively small haul but added to the several thousand euros worth of property that has already been stolen from me it begins to smart a tad. So the security upgrade will continue – more fences and gates. Cameras and alarms. It all just takes the shine away from this supposedly lustrous life.
I discussed the issue with my exceedingly wise mother:
“…maybe you could attach live electricity wires to the truck?”
“…a good idea Ma. But it would be terribly inconvenient to find a smouldering pikey stuck to it in the morning…”
Maybe we’ll just move to Hackney instead.
I didn’t surf today.
…actually it’s a very short one. The film that is.
I cobbled together a short animation of my chubby, punk surfer from chapter 9 of Papersurfer. If you already have the book you can recreate this effect at home with a small pot of white paint, a sharp pair of scissors, some ordinary household bleach and a can of peaches.
The soundtrack I’ve chosen is ‘F-stop blues’. It was written by Jack Johnson during his filming of ‘September Sessions’ – a very excellent surf movie filmed in South East Asia. I chose it partly because I like the song and the film but mostly because I know several people who find Jack Johnson exceedingly annoying.
I didn’t surf today.
…I haven’t surfed at Cabedelo (Figueira de Foz) in a while. My lack of inertia since the winter months has been tough to shake and so has the additional layer of insulation I’ve been cultivating. The waves there are a bit punchier than most around the Peniche area so you need to be pretty fit to make the most of the better days. I timed the paddle out beautifully, the rip whisking me out back in a few moments. A short paddle across the bay led me straight into a perfect left. It was surf-video perfect, a clean long range swell groomed by the light offshore wind lifting up over the banks at just over head high. I was in just the right spot and the wave lifted the back of the board and threw me down the face into a deep bottom turn. After making some good speed mid face I raked out one more bottom turn and then lifted up and over the closing lip. It was the first ‘real’ wave of the year for me. It left me grinning and shaking as I paddled back out to sea…
What followed was a series of humbling events that involved an unexpected, much bigger set. Some underwater time. Lots of flailing and floundering. Some more underwater time. A bit more flailing and finally some nice relaxing ‘down time’ on the beach with just me, my thoughts and my crushed and fragile ego for company.
After a while I stood up (manfully) strode back into the sea (again in a manly way) and then repeated the last paragraph (not quite so manly at this point).
At which point I decided to focus carefully on the first paragraph and strode casually to the car – grinning once again. I then ate a large chocolate cake and drove home. Perfect.
I surfed today. For about 8 seconds. Which sometimes is just enough…
The snail (incidentally) has absolutely nothing to do with anything but could be misconstrued as representing the above post. In a loose metaphorical way.
This is the first instalment of digital mixing from the Aphrodisiac workshops. A moochy, groovy blend of deep house with some dub disco undertones possibly suitable for some recreational culinary activities.
I’d probably make pancakes to this mix- maybe wearing a small, floral pinafore and some pink rubber gloves. I would – but I have no eggs.
This pinny sure feels good though…
Tracklist is as follows (all MP3 mixed with digital decks)
- Groove for the main room by Peter O
- Touch the sky by Penfold on Aphrodisiac
- Groove cocktail by Nathalia on Pierogi records
- Nuvex-U on Four Peas recordings
- Final Dream by Mata and Mike Richardson