Scorn – Glugged

(Copyright © 2009)

Trapped in our minds as we are, we sometimes ridicule those whose minds and ideas differ from our own. Rather than accept or celebrate such differences, we find them personally offensive or threatening, and so lash out at those who dare to be different—that is, different from ourselves. There’s a lot of that around these days, displays of public scorn, mockery, bitterness.

Where do these tongue-lashings come from? These dyspeptic outbreaks? These trainloads of sour grapes? These sneering, snide, and brutal attacks?

That’s easy. They stem from the scornful ones sensing they are on the outs—have lost what they might have had—so are themselves being scorned and put down. In a word, from a sense of personal threat or defeat. Which cannot be publically admitted, yet calls for retribution, so is thereby transmuted into derision, casting blame, finding fault. That way, the defeated cloak themselves in the virtue of the truly superior, and the successful are demonized as dishonest, disingenuous, disgusting, and generally despicable. If the ploy gets enough coverage, the losers pass as winners among their fans. 

As in bullfighting, the art of the faultfinder is in stunning and then exhausting the designated victim, leading to delivery of the fatal thrust. The spiteful predator turns his prey’s virtues into faults, then dismembers the wretched carcass while still alive. Such is the vindictive politics of our day. Whatever you do, don’t take defeat lying down. Rise up and be a man; show your stuff. Rant and rave—and make sure to notify the press. Better yet, be the press. That way you can make sure every slur gets the coverage it deserves. Even if it doesn’t deserve any coverage all, it enters the public mind as if it were news, not bluster.

Illusion, it all comes down to illusion. To deceiving a public that loves sports and spectacle more than truth. It doesn’t matter what you claim, just come out swinging. The audience will side with you and fill in the blanks. They’ve been taught, after all, that life is a multiple-choice test. Feed ‘em the answer; they’ll love it.

No one likes to be publically humiliated. To be humbled—brought down in the eyes of the people. Particularly not those who thrive in the limelight. If exposed as mere mortals, their reflex is to divert attention by shedding light on someone else’s faults, which brings to mind their particular enemy. If he doesn’t have conspicuous faults, it doesn’t matter—just make them up. Deride his accomplishments, smear his virtues, mock his integrity—again and again. You’ll be surprised how easy it is to get traction as a cynic because the public is nothing if not gullible and loves a good fight.

One defense against slings and arrows is to deflect them toward an innocent party. Turning the tables is easy, just spin your vices into virtues (such as speaking your mind), and your opponent’s virtues into vices (such as his not seeking your advice or sharing your values). Spiteful feelings are always an undercurrent when one side wins over another. But when those feelings vent as outrage directed at the other team, igniting violent speech and acts (as after a soccer game when the home team loses), then attitudes are shown to have consequences, like road rage escalating to assault and battery.

The damning of the president by Fox News and others is no game—it is a calculated strategy to dull the brilliance of his aura in order to undercut the stature and power of the man. At best such attacks are distractions; at worst they disrupt judgment, attention, and consciousness itself. These are not personal slights. They are corporate onslaughts, campaigns by organized groups to ruin a man whose intelligence and influence they are afraid of. This is not the work of envy, hurt pride, or rabblerousing on the fringe—this is out-and-out war.

How did we get to this point? And once here, why do we tolerate such behavior? Put simply, there are two classes of people, leaders and followers. The division between them is told not by ability but by wealth. Those without cash, work; those with cash hire the best lawyers, PR fronts, muscle, and outside agitators to see that their wills are imposed on their lesser brothers and sisters. This is a laughable interpretation of “survival of the fittest,” but it has become the bumper-sticker wisdom of our age and our nation. You needn’t bother getting elected, you can buy your way to power. Not only can you, but you must; only millionaires need apply for membership in the U.S. Senate and House of Representatives. They are ushered into office by the very corporations whose interests they serve. This is far too important a process to be left for the people to screw up by electing the wrong person.

What a sad little story: the collapse of one of the greatest ideas ever advanced by the human mind—with its checks and balances, one vote and equal opportunity for each unique person, and peaceful transfer of power from one generation to the next. A vision rent in two by assuming there are two classes of people, the haves and have-nots, one superior to the other, the nobler (wealthier) class having an obligation to govern on behalf of their dependents. Viewed from the top, that division into classes is a convenient fiction; from the bottom, a life sentence to hard labor.

But consciousness does not come in two classes. There is only one class of consciousness, and it is responsible for promoting the wellbeing and happiness of its owner. It is the social system that has grown up around consciousness that is corrupt in favoring a small but aggressive elite over the general population. Privilege is concentrated at the top, duty at the bottom—the difference told by a cultural mindset calculated to keep power and wealth on the high side of the boundary between the two classes. That is the structure which looms so large in the cynical attacks on the president and the policies he favors, including a fair and decent public healthcare option covering all Americans. Wealthy individuals and corporations fear losing their influence, so their agents scream bloody murder to discredit the commoner whom the people elected to restore balance and judgment throughout the nation and the world.

The voice of consciousness advises treating others as you would have them treat you: with respect and compassion. The voice of status takes a different approach: the elite know best what is good for you; let us rule. The issue rides on whether all people are assumed to be equal or not. Which is it to be, power to the people or power to the elite? That question is at the heart of the fracas. Through experience we know that mutual respect is a better strategy than lording it over others to get your way, then berating them if they don’t bow to your will. Democracy allows for human differences under the umbrella of equal rights and respect. Taking dominion over others is a sure sign of dissent, which invariably leads to schisms, hard feelings, and violence. That is the Fox News route; the Obama route is to regard those who differ from yourself with respect, then see what you can work out together.

Why does it seem like the most simple of tasks is impeded at every turn by simply living? The worst part of trying to improve is not the way everyone looks at you like you’re crazy, or the stupid disagreements with partners, or dealing with the loss of family time – it’s life. Nothing gets in the way of improving your standard of living more than just living.

You know what? I’m not going to write this. This was going to be some self pitying diatribe about how hard it is to push ahead, but that’s just stupid. I’ve never been one for self-pity, and I’m not going to start now. Is art difficult? Sure. Is it hard to create something new? Of course. But the things most worth doing are the hardest of all. So I’m not going to complain about how difficult things are, or how tired I am of the looks, the sarcastic comments about how everyone’s SURE that it’s a good movie. What I do isn’t for them anyway. Most people are content to float along, hoping to grab onto someone’s coattails and ride with them. Screw those people. I know who I want to work with. It’s hard, because there’s so few of us, but at the end of the day the few of us that started this are the only ones that can be depended on. So it’s me and my partners. Everyone else can hire on as needed.

But no matter how hard, I’m not quitting. Plans may change, people come and go, but I’m still here. I know what I want. I know what I have to offer has value, real artistic value. Whether or not my partners feel the same, whether or not we make a million or not, I’m not going to quit, and I’m not giving in to self pity. That’s just dumb.

Merriam-Webster agrees with me on this.

• I’m so hungry I could literally eat a horse.
• If I have a migraine much longer my head will literally explode.
• This is literally a literal matter.
• I literally can’t think of any more good examples. (Eh-heh.)
  

And now I should hope that you’ve looked at that word enough so that it doesn’t look like much of anything. While I find that to be a strange phenomenon, that’s not what we’re here for today. Now, “literal” is most commonly associated with “factual” or “exactness”. As such, there’s been much contest over the misuse of this word. I find that it’s not misuse that is the plague here, but overuse. It’s as if the person using the word is trying to conjure a special mental image, but failing miserably due to the following context of the sentence.

I’m unsure if I’m handling the entire argument against this word in an eloquent manner, here, so I’d appreciate your thoughts on this fallacy of usage in the comments.

And if it bogs down into nothing meaningful, I will literally come over to your location and rip off your fingers.

Have a Nice Day!

Let Misusing “Literally” Die

Is it kind of depressing that despite it only being Week 3 in the term, I already have several pieces of assessment due? What is this, some kind of unprovoke assault on the social lives of students? Okay so I get the whole ‘You, student, work your ass of on this so we can say you did something’ part – but couldn’t they just make do with one? Ugh. For example, in my English class this semester, our exam is to write not one folks, not two, but three letters to the editor, each from the viewpoint of a different character. All these characters are stilted clichès at any rate, so – um, why?

Woo! badly disguised sadism!

That sentence just gave me a strange image of Some random wearing a sign around their neck weARING A dress. my brain works in bizarre and mysterious ways. Stop it brain, stop it. Anyway. Then, the teachers refuse to realise that they have it quite awesome – they get holidays regularly, and the rest of the time they’re either chucking us random student free days or sulking and threatening to strike [they don't realise we enjoy this, so they keep doing it.]. Whenever anyone points out how they get more holidays than quite a few others, they pull a lnog-suffering face and say in exapserated, you-wouldn’t-understand tones,

“Yeah, but we have to mark stuff!”

Whatever helps you get through the night, kiddos. But then, they usually spend about an hour and a half [and yes, I know from experience. A neighbour of mine was a teacher.] on the last day of the holidays going over some ickle dar-link’s spelling. Doesn’t sound that bad to me, but I guess I’m a student, so I’m biased. Oh well. I can be shamelessly biased if I want to. See? Go the Blues, we all know NSW owns QLD, and Brisbane, how dare you put ‘the Smart State’ on your numberplates? A lot of you don’t even know who Charles Darwin is.

Ugh! I’m going now, to work on one of the multiple assessment pieces, then I’m going to type up a resume, then I’m going to go and tip scorn on something else. And now I’m in a bad mood. Damn Sunshine State.

…not a creature failed–
No Blossom stayed away…
~Emily Dickinson

Mockingbird, where do you begin?
What deep source feeds your spring?
No matter,
I will listen—
Flawless chirps and whistles.
You, a feathered prophet,
a truth-teller;
I, beguiled and beguiler.
Do you have a word for me?
Please allow me this:
Your name does not befit.
To scorn or imitate is not your wish.
How about Dickinsonbird?…

So great is your reward.
Fly to a high branch.
Your drab plumes lift my head.
Though I am a little hurt,
I cannot deny you are fine.
You glance at me and I stare,
surprised by each pensive, lofty line.
Then, wiser,
I once more spread my wings
against the counsel sky.
I do believe.
It’s with my given voice
I will finally be content.

No, you would have shunned her

Had she not

Ever scornful

Of innocence

It was the contrast

You dug

Ever the enigma

Of labels

You couldn’t pin her

Down

Not really

Even as she tried

To define herself

She proved this

Even as she swore

Undying loyalty

Ever yours

You knew

She would never be

One thing

Or another

She bared

Her many faces

Truth is

You liked it

Without her devils

Without her angels

You would have spit her out

Quickly

Now don’t complain

About the horns

                                                  —inspired by words from Uncle Tree

Now, I have a couple of PCs running Windows (though I prefer using a Mac when I can), so I don’t entirely want to start a Mac-versus-Windows battle royale here. We all know Apple has a certain “coolness” factor Microsoft would love to emulate.

Apple Retail Store

Apple retail stores have this incredible THX-1138 modern atmosphere, and people just love to go in there and browse and feel awesome. Microsoft is getting ready to start opening their own retail store and the rumor is that they’ve been hiring away top Apple store managers to try to steal Apple’s mojo, I guess.

When George Lucas was cool

Microsoft is getting ready to release Windows 7 which, after the monumental pile of suck that was Vista, should be an event anticipated by a certain number of people.

In an attempt to create a bit more of a sense of EXTRAVAGANZA, however, Microsoft in its customary tone-deafness has been promoting the idea of the “Windows 7 Release Date Party.” See here:

The always-wonderful Cabel takes a whack at the low-hanging pinata (note to self: find n character with tilde over it) here with his own slight variation on MS’s vid:

Cabel’s Blog LOL — Windows 7 Party

None of my home PCs have any version of Windows newer than XP (and I will not willingly install Vista on any machine I own), but I’ll wait and see what the nerds say about Windows 7. In the mean time, Microsoft remains one of those companies utterly unaware of how they are perceived, and delusional about their own image, trying again and again to “go viral” and create buzz about lame shit like Vista, and the latest Windows Media Player, and worst of all, the Zune.

Only the finest industrial design for our Microsofties

OK, enough Win-bashing for now!

After wasting a beautiful day nursing feelings of rejection, I am reminded of my three  alternate ID cards I keep close at hand for days like this. They are capsules of irony, illustrating my life themes so perfectly that they are remedies to share with skeptics. At least they make me feel better.

Imagine a cartoon illustrating a sheep riding a bicycle, speeding down a grassy hill. The caption reads: “Wendy was flying down the hill on her bicycle when she realized, not only was she a sheep, but she couldn’t ride a bicycle.  She fell off.”  For me, this story requires no explanation, but for those who don’t relate to this story I would say, “everything was going along just fine, when I discovered I was just fooling myself (and nobody else) — things are not going at all well.”

Randy Newman composed a song titled “Short People”, which so outraged the public, that he had to withdraw it. The people who were so outraged by someone who could so cruelly make fun of short people, don’t get it all. They clearly have no idea how it feels to be short, or fat, or old in everyday society.  The negative messages are so powerful, that one is made to feel that they have no right whatsoever to exist, that you should never have been born, and it is useless for short (fat or poor or old) people to pretend that they can fit in. They can’t, because society won’t let them. Randy Newman’s song wasn’t ridiculing short people at all. He was showing that he understood how a person feels when they are rejected, and captures the point that when you ridicule someone, you are telling them that in your view, they have no right to exist.

An event in my life that brought it all home was the collapse of the Schoharie Bridge on the New York Thruway around 1990. Our car, my husband was driving, was headed west returning on a trip to Albany from Syracuse.  Rain accompanied us the whole way, torrential rains over several hours, even a few days.  I looked out the passenger window as we crossed the bridge, and remarked at the raging torrent below, which was attacking the railroad bridge just below and alongside of the highway.

Shortly after crossing the bridge, we stopped at a rest stop. I was struck by how we were practically the only car there, which was unusual, especially on a weekend. We returned to the highway, which was by now empty of cars in both directions, with the sole exception of ourselves, and one car which passed us, waving as he flew by.

It was hours later that we learned that the bridge we crossed had collapsed. We must have been the last ones across, that is,  ourselves and the car which passed us. One car, occupied by two French Canadians, travelling in the opposite direction was not so lucky. They had sped unknowingly into the space left by the bridge, plunging into the river below. Their bodies were recovered a day or so later.  I, for one, was badly shaken by our close call with an absurd and terrifying death.

The story was to end in another bizarre fashion two years later, after my husband had died unexpectedly. I was attending the funeral for a neighbor, when the minister used the collapse of the bridge, and the death of the two Frenchman to illustrate by a twisted narrative construction, how the accident was their own fault.  According to the minister’s version of the Schoharie bridge collapse, someone who saw the bridge collapse and was able to stop in time, had tried to warn the Frenchmen as they sped past, towards impending doom. Imagine the men driving along, and seeing this apparent fool at the side of the road, trying to flag them down, and laughing him off.

Well, not that I am prescient by any means, I identify with the foolish man standing by the side of the road, being ignored as he tries to avert a tragedy.  It doesn’t matter to me that he could have saved the Frenchmen, but that he was dismissed and ignored without giving him a thought. It was as though he were invisible, and it was ridiculous for him to attempt to intrude on the lives of other people.

Now you know — I am fat, poor, and old with no reason to live.

PS — the man who passed us on the Thruway was an acquaintance of ours, and had attended the same meeting in Albany, and who, like us, was returning to Syracuse. This brief shared experience is a bond that others who weren’t there would not understand. We three had escaped an unseen and unknown brush with death.

Sooner or later I’m gonna have a long fucking rant about how I feel about the current state of the dubstep scene. And there will be a lot of curses in it. For now I’m just gonna post a small observation i made a couple of months ago and just happened to remember.

Not surprisingly the heavy wobbles of dubstep soon turned into a subgenre, call it filthy if you will, i’m not gonna, pushing the wobbles and the dirty sound further. Artists started competing with each other to make the heaviest, dirtiest track. Labels like Rottun recordings made great releases. I’m certainly all for it. A classic track was Koan Sounds Mafia, below in a Trill Bass remix:

But this track also made me realize that the sound was starting to get quite similar to something i had heard before. A itch in the back of my mind, a sound i faintly remembered from long ago. It was of course the sound of 90s industrial music. Difficult to find exactly what i was after i noticed while searching, apparently  those tracks are no longer in vogue, but here is a somewhat good example: Sonar – Consume

Now I’m not saying theres anything wrong with this, actually i like it, I’m just saying; history repeats, even in music.

Also, it’s perhaps not that surprising. Now considered dubstep artist Scorn was once a member of grindcore legends Napalm Death before he started making industrial music and then ventured into electronic dubland. Same is true for Justin Broadrick who was also in Napalm Death before starting legendary industrial rockgroup Godflesh, and who later went on to make electronic dub with Kevin Martin, now known as The Bug. He has since gone back to the guitars and is now with his “Jesu” project a major player in the “Post Metal” scene. Round and round it goes.

Accuse people of being bourgeois the way they do in Maracaibo.

Dear Whomever Found My Website By Searching For ‘Tites Asses’,

Please remove yourself from the internet.

Thank you,
Jessica

God is Just. Why should we cry out to the Lord in our distress?  Because God is a God of justice.  His eyes are upon the righteous and righteousness.  And His ears attend to their cry.  God desires justice from His creation because He is just.  Justness is a  part of His essential character.  There is no falsehood with God.  There is no partiality.  There is no turning of the eye to oppression.  God is just.  And because He is essentially just in His character the righteous have great reason to come to Him for justice.  This is in fact the great confidence that the righteous have, that their righteousness has not fallen on deaf ears and blind eyes.  That in the end they will be repaid for their righteousness even as the wicked are repaid for their wickedness.  Of course the righteousness of the righteous is not their own for they would have no reason to cry out to God for vindication.  But it is His righteous standard that they uphold.  It cannot be their own righteousness for why would God then fight on their behalf?  Where then would be His glory?  What then would be His praise?  He would be nothing more than a body guard.  One whose job is to protect the glory of another.  Neigh but the righteousness by which the righteous is called is God’s righteousness.  It is His name, it is His glory.  And that is also their confidence and their hope.  that His righteousness shall be in the end vindicated.  That He will pursue the vindication of His own righteous standard.

God’s justness shall prevail and His righteousness shall be vindicated.  This He has made clear in many other ways.  The glory of His name and His holiness is His great passion.  Thus to pursue His glory in our own lives is the wisest course of action.  And it is an action which again will yield great reward.  The righteous may unashamedly pursue God’s righteous standard because He will vindicate it Himself.  And in vindicating His righteous standard, they will be vindicated.

The folly of the wicked is in assuming that their own glory is necessary.  It is assuming that their own standard of righteousness is enough.  However their own standard of righteousness is as transient as their own lives.  It will in the end be cast aside.  God will bring it to nothing.  It cannot stand in comparison to His own holy and righteous Word.  They may have their “portion in this life” but in the next their portion will be to drink the cup of God’s wrath and indignation against those who have scorned His righteousness and His righteous ones.  Thus the wicked are short sighted.  They fail to see past the reality of the moment to the reality of the next.  Consequence has become an illusion to the wicked.  It has dropped out of their vocabulary along with absolute and even God.  For them there is only the moment of pleasure without the thought of consequence.  If there were no consequence, the righteous might fail in heart however the righteousness of God reminds us that it is only His great mercy which has thus with held the flood of His wrath upon this earth.  It is His mercy which has stayed His hand this long in the condemnation of the wicked.  It is not for their glory.  It is not for their cunning or wisdom which has wrought them success.  It is the merciful hand of their creator which ought to lead them to repentance, but which because of their hard hearts has led many to both mock His very existence – by whose mercy they stand – and to mock His holy and righteous ones.

What then is the final hope of the righteous?  The punishment of evildoers?  No.  It is our expectation but it is not our hope that they should meet what demise they are sure to who mock the Almighty.  Do we seek the vindication of our own name or righteousness?  No.  Before God, there are none who have reason to boast in any righteousness of their own doing because before His standard we are all guilty.  What then is our final hope?  Our final hope is that the pursuit of God’s righteousness in this life will not be for naught.  Our final hope is that because of His righteousness, “we shall see His face…[and] we shall be satisfied when we awake in His likeness.”

… courtesy of Merriam Webster, with slight modifications by me:

The Word of the Day for August 20, 2009 is:
contemn • \kun-TEM\ • verb

: to view or treat with contempt : scorn

Felix’s Example Sentence:

The raucous shouters at the various town hall meetings on health care obviously contemn any proposed reform, though such “populist” champions would never use such a bookish word, lest they appear to be above their raisin’.

Did you know?

“Contemn” is derived from the Latin verb “contemnere,” a word formed by combining “con-” and “temnere” (“to despise”). Surprisingly, our verb may have come within a hair’s breadth of being spelled “contempn.” The Middle French word “contempner” arrived in Middle English as “contempnen,” but that extra “p” disappeared, leaving us with “contemn.” You may be wondering about the connection between “contemn” and “contempt,” and not surprisingly, they are related. “Contempt” comes from Latin “contemptus,” which comes from “contemnere.” “Contemn” first turned up in print in the 15th century; “contempt” dates from the 14th century.

Decent Community wanted to share this chill ass video made by a dude who went on vacation to Europe and told his girl he was going. For some reason the girl didn’t realize it, proceeded to go absolutely berserk when she couldn’t get in touch with him, and hilarity/embarassment ensues.

Featuring actual emails, lust, hate, betrayal, and scorn (and a dece soundtrack) — this video is a must-watch for those who know that ladies can get a little crazy now and then, and understand how breakups can manifest themselves in unforeseen ways.

We complain of the effects of pride; we wonder to see grown men actuated and governed by ambition, envy, scorn, and a desire for glory; not considering that they were all the time of their youth called upon to all their action and industry upon the same principles. You teach a child to scorn to be outdone, to thirst for distinction and applause, and is it any wonder that he continues to act all his life in the same manner?

There is nothing in reality that more weakens the mind and reduces it to meanness and slavery, nothing that makes it less master of its own actions or less capable of following reason than a love of praise and honor.

Hate and despise all human glory, for it is nothing else but human folly. It is the greatest snare, and the greatest betrayer that you can possibly admit into your heart. Love humility in all its instances; practice it in all parts, for it is the noblest state of the soul of man; it will set your heart and affections right towards God, and fill you with every temper that is tender and affectionate towards men.

From A Serious Call to a Devout and Holy Life by William Law

There is hatred and there is hope in the world.

But mostly there is hate.

And I hate some people with such specific rage that it makes me sick with burning and churning wrath.

Retribution should be swift and sweet.

In an earlier post,  10 Watt wall of Sound, I talked about my interest in low resolution film.  Supersonic seemed like a pretty good place to road-test some of the more extreme limitations of my extremely limited Blackberry’s  video camera, specifically how it reacted to Low Frequency, high level sound.

Let’s have a look at the results.

Here’s how the recording of PCM turned out.

Next up was Scorn

Followed swiftly by Sunn o)))

The results seemed pretty conclusive but I decided  to continue my studies…

Here’s how the Blackberry’s camera handles difficult lighting conditions courtesy of Monotonix

It does seems to react pretty well to Goblin’s synths though!

And lo, Capsule’s annual Supersonic festival at The Custard Factory in Birmingham’s Digbeth (the Irish/arts/disused factories/SILENCE, YOU quarter) inexorably advances upon us like one of those scary street-hooverer-vehicle-things with the big brushes on the front. Scare the bloody life out of me, them bleeders.

SssssSonic, conversely, fills me with joy. This year it is held between the 24th (that would be this coming Friday) and the 26th (that would be this coming Sunday. This coming Saturday will be between the two, in the customary fashion) and – as ever – features a load of bands that everyone else has heard of apart from me. On the off chance that you don’t already know the lot, I’d recommend the preview podcasts that Brumcast have assembled as a starting point: part one and part two will give you an intro to a fair few of the acts a-playing (on Friday, Saturday and Sunday, if you’re looking for the timetables).

The headliners are a mixed bag for me: call me crap at liking music if you must, but neither Goblin nor SunnO)))parentheseseseseses))) hold a particularly large amount of attraction. Japanese dooooooooooom-types Corrupted should be good, though, as long as they don’t come across as toooooooooo samey live, and breakcore/IDM/lunacy-merchant Venetian Snares will be ace if he can actually be bothered to get on stage and do a set this time around (word had it last time he came to Brum that he refused to play because the venue had the wrong brand/make of CD player, although I can’t really remember if that’s a rumour I heard or a rumour I started). I don’t really know industrial-rockers Head Of David all that well (there’s half a week left, gimme time) but the bits I’ve heard sound like fun.

Things of note elsewhere, then:

~ Scorn’s dark-arsed industrial dub will be ace, but since he’s on at same time as Sunno)))bracketseseseses))) I’m slightly concerned that he might not be easy to hear. I’m even more concerned that the combined bass of the two acts might be enough to get all of Digbeth shut down forever.

~ I saw rhythmic instrumental Japanese ladies Nisennenmondai supporting Acid Mothers Temple last August and thought they were really very good – the missing link between Can and Battles, perhaps. I also enjoyed the great bit of lost-in-translation-ification from their recent interview in that “Stool Pigeon” freesheet thing – “What’s your new album about?” “It’s about £10.”

~ Earthless were completely unknown to me until I listened to the above podcasts and are still pretty unfamiliar, but I’m liking what I’ve heard so far of their cross between Comets On Fire, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Corrosion Of Conformity and The Edgar Winters Group.

~ When I first saw the name Rose Kemp around, I’d assumed it was a band using a fairly poor pun on “Ross Kemp”. Cruel and unfortunate fate has it that it’s actually an individual’s real name. Poor cow. What’s good, though, is her Jeff-Buckley-in-a-folk-metal-band sound.

~ The Accused – ‘Splatter Rock’ sez they, ‘fun metallic punk ala Poison Idea’ sez me.

~ Bunny Bissoux will be creating Petting Zoo-themed artwork. The artist herself probably won’t be aware, but I’m claiming credit/responsibility for giving Capsule the idea of this. And I’m doing so whether it’s actually true or not.

~ Stuff elsewhere: I’m always slightly surprised that no real fringe festival has ever evolved for Supersonic (given the large audience and full complement of national/international folk travelling inwards you’d think there’s be all sorts of related things going on around the outsides, whether officially connected with the festival or not. Or is that just me?), but even without that there is stuff a-happening. On the way there (well… on the way if you’re coming from roughly the same place as me. If you’re not coming from roughly the same place as me then I won’t rub it in, you probably feel bad enough as it is) former Soup’n’Sonic guest Yukio Fujimoto has his The Tower Of Time installation at Perrott’s Folly in Edgbaston (in which the ticking of 1,111 clocks blurs into supertone white noise as you ascend the tower), and then at Moor Street Station you can see There Are No Others, There Is Only Us (boids and Ben Frost). Once out into Digbeth, Ikon Eastside has When The Scales Fall From Your Eyes (visual exploration of alledged modern obsession with weights and measures), Vivid has Participation – The Film And Video Workshop Movement 1979-1991 (wot film-makers dun in the 80s), and Eastside Projects has Does Your Contemplation Of The Situation Fuck With The Flow Of Circulation ( I’m really not sure, but there are some pretty pictures at that link). If the metal at S’Sonic ain’t quite consistently proper-metal enough for you, meanwhile, Testament are playing at The Wulfrun Hall in Wolverhampton on Saturday night (about twenty minutes on the train from New Street Station).

~ Surrounding establishments: Make sure you pop into The Rainbow while you’re in that neck of the woods and buy a pint or two to help them raise money for their troubles. The Lamp Tavern on Barford Street is probably the best drinkin’ pub in Digbeth, although most of ‘em round there are good. Manzils on the High Street (head back towards Selfridges from The Custard Factory and it’s on your right when you’re nearly there) is a reasonable place for a curry.

~ Onsite stuff: THERE IS NO CASH MACHINE IN THE CUSTARD FACTORY SO GET YOUR MONEY OUT BEFOREHAND (doesn’t make any difference to me – West Brom Building Society represent – but this is something that seems to be a big deal for a lot of people). If previous years are anything to go by (and there’s no reason why they necessarily should be, so don’t come crying to me if this plan doesn’t work) then there will be big queues and crowds at opening time (9pm) on the Friday, but you can usually pick up your wristband a little while before then if you have a ticket-in-advance. I’d do that and then head back to the pub for a bit if I were you. Let’s not have too many of you steaming into The Lamp, though, I’ll want some peace and quiet.

~ If the weather is anything other than ‘temperate’ and I find out which one of you is responsible then you’ll be for it, mate. Be warned.