Language 'is' a Virus

MultiMedia and the Avant-Gardes

2012-01-10T15:32:00.016Z

I had to help write an essay about multimedia performances a few years ago, and found a wonderful book by Richard Kostelanetz which gave me a clue to how to shape the piece.

I have just bought it through AbeBooks for a very good price, as the Amazon going rate seemed much higher (£20-30 for the paperback).

Dictionary of the Avant-Gardes.

Mr Kostelanetz has written a myriad of fascinating material, and his website is definitely worth a visit.

Admittedly, I bought the first edition (1993) - the one that inspired me - and he has updated the second edition (2001) - with the cover shown here.
Indeed, he has offered some draft updates, should a third edition ever appear.

What I found, to help me shape the essay/thesis (with a deadline of a week!) was his reference to mixed-means theatre. He analysed the various forms that he covers with that term (Happenings, stage performances, kinetic environments, etc) using what I assume he got from Aristotle's rather rigid 'unities' for theatrical performances:

The unity of action: a play should have one main action that it follows, with no or few subplots.

The unity of place: a play should cover a single physical space and should not attempt to compress geography, nor should the stage represent more than one place.

The unity of time: the action in a play should take place over no more than 24 hours.

However, to describe the wider variety of audience, performer, creator interactions of mixed media / multimedia performance (including circus, in my terms) he offered this table:

And that gave me all the structure I needed to help my friend shape his thesis. We simply worked through all the practical projects and shows he had done, and described them as involving:

open or closed space

fixed or variable time

fixed or variable actions.

So I owe Mr Kostelanetz quite a bit (and the library for having a copy of his book available at the time).
On top of all that, I love dictionaries, and this remains a treasure trove of cross-references, eye-openers, and other fun. He doesn't only cover some of my own favourite artists: Duchamp, Cage, Jarry, Joyce; but other perhaps less expected ones like Burroughs, Dylan and Bucky Fuller; and also genres from Performance Art to Punk Rock to Hypertext, and groups like Fluxus and Dada.

Language as a virus

2011-12-15T14:28:00.012Z

Reading The First Word: The Search for the Origins of Language - an overview on the current theories of language evolution - and felt very amused to find the model of language as a virus now having some currency among 'serious researchers' - given that the title of this blog comes from such a disreputable source as William S. Burroughs, based on his studies with Korzybski.

Perhaps his texts full of taboo subjects, grotesque and diseased images elicited an ugly association of the word 'virus' which hid the fact that he meant to indicate the method by which language appeared to replicate itself (something like what we now call 'memes').

You can find WSB discussing it in one of his less scary texts - The Job: interviews with William S. Burroughs - in the section called Playback from Eden to Watergate.

"My basic theory is that the written word was actually a virus that made the spoken word possible. The word has not been recognised as a virus because it has achieved a state of symbiosis with the host, though this symbiotic realationship is now breaking down, for reasons I will suggest later."

So anyway, without getting too technical, I flipped open p. 234 of the paperback edition of The First Word, to read:

"Kirby and a number of other researcers find one metaphor especiallly useful for thinking about language: imagine that it is a virus, a nonconscious life-form that evolves independently of the animals infected by it. Just as a standard virus adapts to survival in its physical environment, the language virus adapts to survival in its environment - a complicated landscape that includes the semi-linguistic mind of the infant, the individual mind of the speaking adult, and the collective mind of communicating humans.

According to Terence Deacon, language and its human host are parasitic upon each other. 'Modern humans need the language parasite in order to flourish and reproduce just as much as it needs humans to reproduce.' "

Indeed do artists get there first.

So anyway, Korzysbski had lots to say about 'language hygiene' (or thinking clearly) just as Burroughs adopted the cut-up method to reveal underlying assumptions, prejudices and styles.

Count Alfred Koyrzybski - a marginalized, ignored or forgotten person in the main - offered a set of tools for eliminating sources of error in thinking and speaking, which would have not made him popular with the kind of people who fund research, or politicians and leaders, or advertising execs, or religious types, or... Well, you get the idea. I happen to think he had a point, and quite a few of his tools have become adopted by people without awareness of the source (perhaps).

We use 'air quotes' for dubiously used words; many scientific studies now have started to merge with the use of the hyphen (neuro-linguistic studies, socio-biological) etc, etc. The whole area of study now called NLP (neuro-linguistic programming) - whatever your reaction to those words - remains a study of how words affect us and our belief systems, and how we might need to change the words we use to think about things, to produce real change in the world. And so does the movement called Political Correctness.

Symbolic Species: The Co-Evolution of Language and the Brain Terence Deacon

This review on Language Miniatures had a useful brief summary:
Copyright © 2001 by William Z. Shetter

"But is this perception really all that wide of the mark? Suppose we compare a language with something that really does have animate existence. Let's choose viruses:

Like a virus, a language is an adaptive entity evolving with respect to its human hosts.

Modern humans need this language parasite in order to flourish and reproduce.

Humans ensure that languages, like viruses, are successfully replicated and passed on from host to host.

The earlier the age at which a language or virus is acquired, the more success it will have (given the simple fact of human mortality) in reproducing from generation to generation. So language infects young children.

Languages/viruses are highly organized and passed on as a complete, integrated working system, not as a collection of words/genes."

And here - at On Memetics - you will find a brief commentary on a video by Simon Kirby

“Silence is only frightening to people who are compulsively verbalizing.” AK

Too many words, too little time. In terms of 'mental hygiene', of course, most forms of meditation seem aimed at quietening the chattering monkey mind - because when that compulsive inner voice stops we might just catch a glimpse of the world...

“Modern man has lost the option of silence. Try halting sub-vocal speech. Try to achieve even ten seconds of inner silence. You will encounter a resisting organism that forces you to talk. That organism is the word. “ WSB

Maps and Models and Meta-languages

2011-12-12T14:12:00.008Z

I just read a quirky and entertaining book about maps and how they affect how we perceive the world around us - by a self-confessed "Map Addict"- Mike Parker.

It's an excellent read, and very stimulating to thought and further exploraration. He has a particular fondness for Ordnance Survey maps of the UK, but also covers local maps, rude street names, etc - and all the way out to world maps.

I felt sorry that in discussing world maps, where he pointed out the limitations of both the Mercator projection (with which we all feel familiar, in spite of its distortions of land size) and the Peters projection (which gets areas right, but appears downright ugly, and distorts the shapes of the landmasses - terribly PC and all that, but horrible). We traditionally draw these with The Atlantic in the middle, which emphasises the apparent importance of Europe and the USA, and with North at the 'top', which also has political implications. The Upside Down map created by someone from OZ certainly exercises the mind.

Of course, it perpetuates the misleading idea of 'up and down' which Bucky so disliked (in Cosmos you only find 'in' (coming in to land on a planet) and 'out' (he suggests you should think of looking out at the stars, not 'up').

Bucky Fuller's Dymaxion map may look very unfamiliar (and seeing things afresh might prove important in itself) but it does not distort landmass area or shape, it does not have any up or down, north, south, east or west, and it can actually be folded to make a good simulation of a globe (unlike any other flat map).

As Bucky disliked the idea of nation states, he preferred that his map of Spaceship Earth not get divided with national or political lines, and so, for all its value, it has not been adopted by the United Nations...or many people, indeed, who still prefer the misleading map they grew up with.

Similar discussions could follow, on how resistant we can all prove to any kind of change to the models and maps we use to simplify and understand the world. Changes in language can perhaps align us better with the world out there, as Bucky suggested (teaching your children about sunrise and sunset continues the incorrect perception of the sun going around the Earth, for instance, so he suggested sunsight and sunclipse...and how about 'going outstairs' and 'instairs'! :-)

Not sure if animated GIFs work in Blogger, so here you will find the link to bring this pic alive!

However weird some of his suggestions, they seem clearer than people in the Northern Hemisphere thinking of Australians as 'being upside down'. But hey, I don't hold my breath waiting for such quirky uses of language to catch on. Not until we have spent some time in space stations, at least.

Voodoo Economics

2011-10-21T17:44:00.000+01:00

I am all for the various Occupy groups drawing attention to greed and corruption, etc - but I am still waiting to hear what solutions would satisfy them.

OK, taxing the rich, capping the maximum salaries, doing something about unearned bonuses, etc. Fair enough.

Unfortunately, as far as I can see, people have also maxed out their own credit, and seem to prefer the model of 'living well' - resisting the idea of frugality, tightening yer belt, rationing - sounds like 'socialism', maybe.

However, I still have confidence in Bucky Fuller's calculations that we already have enough resources for everyone to live comfortably and well, but the resources need redistribution.

Bill Hicks put it clearly:

I had a vision of a way we could have no enemies ever again, if you're interested in this. Anybody interested in hearing this? It's kind of an interesting theory, and all we have to do is make one decisive act and we can rid the world of all our enemies at once. Here's what we do. You know all that money we spend on nuclear weapons and defense every year? Trillions of dollars. Instead, if we spent that money feeding and clothing the poor of the world, which it would pay for many times over, not one human being excluded ... not one ... we could as one race explore inner and outer space together in peace, forever.

So I guess we need to tackle more than the money men. When I was a kid in the UK I thought it would have seemed like a great and bold move for the UK to unilaterally disarm, and join the small nations who do not spend huge sums on nuclear weapons that no-one was ever going to use. It took a couple of decades for the USSR to collapse. We spent unmentionable amounts of money making arms that would never ever get used - meanwhile dismantling the National Health Service and other great supports for all citizens.

The stupidity of all that still appals me.

I think we need something drastic. If we really did consist of 99% of the people, then the Permanent Universal Rent Strike would work. We all just stop paying mortgages and rent. What can do 'They' do, evict us all?

Then we have the Permanent Universal Tax Strike, until governments begin spending what they collect on the stuff we actually want.

Alternative currencies and LETS schemes, etc - trading skills and materials without them passing through money channels.

We might consider forgiving ourselves our debts, just as we write off Third World Debt. We just all declare ourselves bankrupt, and the debts unreclaimable.

Just riffing, you understand. I don't really expect 99% of the people to act together, sadly.

'They', the 1%, after all, carry on playing the 'print more money' model (in electronic versions) knowing full well that devalues what remains in circulation. They play at Voodoo Economics and convince us that money 'is' finite, resources are too limited, and all that.

[Update] Here's food for thought (thanks to Vincent for the alert): Revealed, the capitalist network that runs the world, from the New Scientist.

Pyramid selling

2011-09-05T13:30:00.004+01:00

I have no idea how one goes about 'monetizing' a blog. Most of what I read sounds like pyramid schemes, multi-level marketing, chain letters, etc. Not something I want to get involved in.

I guess if I could find some content that I thought might actually appeal to a wider audience then I would feel OK about attempting it. I suspect my own interests remain too obscure.

One Point

Anyway, for now I decided to set up a new blog which would work as a nodal point for all my scattered material. I won't completely stop posting to the specialized ones, but I think it might be time for a new 'generalist' blog.

I have set up Time Piece (it may still change its name) as a place where I can have links out to all the old experiments, defunct blogs, bits and pieces scattered about - for my own convenience - and try out the new Blogger interface (who knew that Blogger had such a small share of the market place now?)

Prurient interest

2011-07-20T01:11:00.005+01:00

Can you imagine how the NoTW would have reported on this case?

It seemed odd to hear Rupert Murdoch proclaim his love of ‘investigative journalism’ when exactly that has exposed the flaws in the media he supported.

I must admit, one thing that struck me was how polite we all seem to be, us and our liberal society, with all our politeness and political correctness. Many of us appear restrained from comment by our ideas of ageism, sexism and racism, for instance – but his paper never was.

They’d probably have kicked off with asking how an ugly old rich man ends up with a beautiful, intelligent, feisty, oriental wife young enough to be his grand-daughter. They were proud of their campaigns against known paedophiles so they could surely not have resisted pointing out that he would have been about 50 when she reached puberty.

Don’t give me that “they love each other” crap. That wouldn't play.

I bet the NoTW didn’t say “leave them alone in peace” when John Lennon decided to divorce his English wife and marry an oriental woman older than himself.

Or when Woody Allen married his (much younger) oriental adopted daughter Soon-Yi Previn – which the NoTW could probably pitch to the prurient reader as both incest and paedophilia.

The bottom line for me, in my disgust at this situation, remains the hypocrisy of pandering to people’s lowest interests (because, yes, the people who regularly bought the paper do certainly have some responsibility in the matter).

The big difference to me remains the one between a panderer (the flatterer who tells people what they want to hear, without actually believing it themselves – a two-faced person) and someone with sincere, strongly-held, even if (to you and me) misguided beliefs. I have no desire to drag people into my value systems, so if you think Jesus lives on a flat earth (or voted Conservative) it has little interest to me.

What I seriously dislike remains the hypocrisy of pandering...writing invasive, unpleasant crap - low-brow, shit-stirring, gossip - and appealing to people’s lowest instincts, just to sell papers (get rich) and feel influential, while sneering (secretly) at how dumb your punters are.

In a free society (whatever that means) I think anyone retains the right to campaign for their strongly-held beliefs, even as part of a small minority...but to urge the crowd into hysterical mob behaviour and beliefs (while yourself not personally sharing those beliefs) still seems outrageous.

Passing the Hat

2011-07-01T15:29:00.023+01:00

Covent Garden Hat Fairs in 1973-4

The queues outside the theatres and cinemas in London attracted street performers back in the 50s, mostly musicians, some dancers. A younger crowd started to appear, as the singer-songwriter thing started to happen in the early 60s - people like Don Partridge doing one-man band, Don Crown and his busking budgies, etc.

I don't quite know when the street life turned in the direction of magicians and jugglers and clowns. Myself, I had partied in the park in the late Sixties, but then went travelling for a couple of years. When I returned I had evolved a little comedy juggling and magic show, and quickly added some tumbling and slapstick, but there were no real venues for such a thing, and the street markets found me a little weird, so I was delighted when Mike Dean organised a community street festival in the embattled Covent Garden area, and negotiated with the authorities that anyone could (for the two days) arrive, put down a hat, and offer their act or display.

I was part of a commedia/clown troupe called The Raree Show, and we did quite a lot of community and street work, so we were comfortable with the idea. I also did my solo show, and (in the second year of The Covent Garden Hat Fair) a duo with Justin Case called Foolproof. It was an invitation to experiment.

In addition to music, you could have found crafts people, poets, and people like me starting out the trend to New Variety and New Circus. One of The Barrow Poets was there, and wrote a charming piece for the New Statesman, about the experience of taking part in this seminal event.

Hats in the Air

'The last week was lost a Merkin in the Coven-Garden,' reads a scurrilous little item in a 1660 news sheet. This week I saw not merkins, alas, but practically everything else was in evidence, as a vast assembly of people enjoyed a neighbourhood festival and hat fair to mark the gradual but inevitable extinction of Covent Garden. It was as a hat fair entertainer that I attended, a simple matter of performing free, and then collecting money in a hat. It's an exhilarating experience. My first taste of street busking came on Saturday, with a fellow Barrow poet, Susan Baker. We had planned some material; she had brought her violin, and I a topper decorated with balloons.
We wandered, lonely as a couple of clouds, in and out of the jazz bands and pop groups seeking a good site. There didn't seem to be one. Wherever we were, there always seemed to be some reason for not starting.

At last we diagnosed this reluctance as sheer terror, and dumped our gear on the pavement in James Street, where we stood. Susan tuned up and played a reel. When she had finished we had a crowd. I said a comic poem; we did a piece together, very jokey. They laughed. More jokes, more laughter. Bigger crowd. The adrenalin is going. Susan plays very boldly. I speak our as if addressing a large meeting. But it was getting too easy. So Susan played a Vivaldi movement. The crowd grew. I said Blake's London (How the chimney sweep's cry/Every blackening church appals). They listened, applauded. A Barrow colleague appeared down the street and spontaneously joined in.
A few more pieces and we signed off and took the hat round. They paid and drifted off to find Toby, the acrobatic juggler, or my brother Julian Chagrin, doing his hilarious mime, or food, drink, the children's street, the belly dancer. Later, we did another street gig. I teamed up with my brother and did a two-man minishow with him, indoors. And in the evening the full Barrow team did a rumbustious programme at the White Swan in New Row.

By late evening megalomania had set in and I determined to make real an old fantasy of mine, and tell The Miller's Tale: in public, in full, and in the original. I arranged a pitch and a time and on Sunday afternoon carried my vast paperback to the King Street piazza. To my astonishment there were people there, waiting to hear it. I opened my book, introduced myself, and started. A drunk or drugged heckler inquired the colour of the miller's pubic hair. I told him red, and he drifted off, apparently satisfied. I read the story, and most of my smallish but gradually growing crowd stayed the full 40-minute course. Half way through, a band started up. I spoke louder, hammering out those magnificent words. The listeners crowded closer. The comic climax arrived, and yet again, Geoffrey Chaucer, deceased long before the birth of the now dying Covent Garden, made us laugh. The topper, now devoid of balloons, went round and supper was assured.

From then on events seemed to kaleidoscope. I did a one-man indoor programme, carried the hat for other performers, did a spot at a music hall, and was offered a pick through boxes of old theatre costumes, was given left-over food and booze to take home. I watched the organisers sweeping the streets, saw a member of Recreation Ground moving her motor-bike to allow space to a gigantic fruit lorry that crept like a fictional monster through the narrow streets.

Near midnight, I walked along Shaftesbury Avenue anachronistically attired in bell-bottom cords, 18th-century gentleman's jacket, and topper. Some French tourists asked me the way. A white balloon blew slowly past the shop fronts and lifted out into the traffic, breathtakingly avoiding destruction. As in a mirage a huge red bus came into view. And it was going my way! Gathering my packages I chased it, caught it at the lights and jumped aboard. The hat fair was over. But no. My neighbour spoke to me. 'Thought it was you. Glad you got on. Saw you doing your poetry. How was the White Swan? I'm in the theatre too. I do costumes.' She fingered my brocade sleeve. 'That's a lovely bit of cloth. Bet you didn't get that for nothing. Well, goodbye.' She got off. The festival was over.

© Gerard Benson 1974 New Statesman 13 September 1974

Sunday Morning

2011-06-26T12:50:00.005+01:00

It is this morning.
We sit across the table from each other
breakfast over
the coffee steaming in the china mugs
as you read from the magazine
and I work on the crossword puzzle
sections of the news paper spread everywhere.

You look up, smile at me
and lean across the table for a kiss,
happy for no reason but it is Sunday,
we have all day to do with as we choose.

You are so sure of me
I am afraid enough for both of us.
In my life I never imagined
a morning like this morning;
the bed unmade
me in this ragged robe
all my senses singing:
This is what we share with one another.
This is the place I keep my promises.

Jaimes Alsop

Time Past

2011-06-26T12:21:00.009+01:00

The internet still surprises me. I went looking for some more of my old friend Jaimes Alsop's poems, as he doesn't appear to have collected them anywhere, and I found him writing on a board/forum about something I did all those decades ago!

"Years ago (late sixties) someone handed me a packet of Rizla cigarette papers (a popular brand in England). Inside was a folded cigarette paper on which was typed "Autumn Poem". When I unfolded the cigarette paper inside was the little slip that Rizla put in all the packets near the bottom as a warning the packet was getting low: "Only Five Leaves Left"

Thirty years later and I still smile over that one."

Of course, Nick Drake had also noticed that poetic phrase, and name his album Five Leaves Left.

When I returned to the UK (after a couple of years away) the little coloured slip popped up as I removed three cigarette papers. It read "Time to buy another packet" and I knew The Sixties were finally over.

Something to do with visions

2011-06-24T21:54:00.009+01:00

I had a good friend called Jaimes, in the mid-Sixties, who let me sleep on his sofa, inspired me with pranks and poetry, and made me laugh a lot.

It was the era of the singer/songwriter, and he was a poet, but he didn't make a living as a musician.
Later he went to the USA and a couple of years later, when I got my own adventure legs under me, I decided to drop in for coffee (in Palo Alto) without warning him I was on the way. He dealt with a hippie ghost turning up from a previous life really graciously, and again sheltered me until I got my second wind - then launched me out.

He just died a couple of days ago. We had made some internet contact in the last year or two, through his daughter.

I found this poem of his from 1969, in an old folder of writings...

Something to do with visions

It was something I had to tell you
Diane, it was all caught up with the morning
Something to do with visions

There were no visions today
I noticed particularly
There were no visions today, Diane
Perhaps they had all gone home

Today I was not deceived by your arteries
And though I searched your shoes and comb
I found no traces of gold
Even when I investigated my fingernails
There was no gold
Today love, you must have walked upon the ground

It was something to do with me
Today I was older than my generation
I refused to protect you from your virtue
There are too many, I said, too many already
in chains of flowers and April

They didn’t know about your perfume
They thought I was talking about seasons

It was something I had to tell you
I wrote it down so I wouldn’t forget
Something to do with visions
My eyes are rimmed with a fine and precious dust.

(May You Stay) Forever Young

2011-05-23T23:57:00.008+01:00

To wish His Bobness a happy 70th birthday seems more or less like holding up a lighter in a crowd of thousands. To get rid of the old shibboleth about his singing voice, if you don’t like it then just think of his records as rough demos sent in by a songwriter – for you to grab and interpret.

His back catalogue of about 450 songs must include something you like, even if you didn’t know he wrote it! Watch Ab Fab, and that ‘Wheels On Fire’ song (The Julie Driscoll version), for instance, or Jimi Hendrix pouncing on ‘All Along The Watchtower’.

At one time or another he plundered, enhanced, transformed and re-created most genres of American music – both the cool and the (at the time) uncool. From Rock to Blues, Country to Folk and Gospel (even Punk) he inspired just about everyone to re-investigate their roots, and then bring them into the NOW.

He encouraged The Beatles to give up pop music and cover versions and write their own stuff; his example must have helped The Stones get away from reproducing ‘old Blues Men’ and write modern blues; he made Johnny Cash cool; even his Christian ‘phase’ gave the gospel crew some great songs.

He broke the three minute song taboo; he created maybe the first video to go with a song.

In most tribute shows people still forage through the ‘folk era’ (with those great, timeless, mythical and archetypal images) and the social conscience songs of the ‘protest’ period. They miss the jokes. It’s hard to do jokes.

A notable exception (for me) was K T Tunstall, closing an otherwise rather mournful 'tribute show' with fresh, life-enhancing versions of the first two songs on Blood on the Tracks. (I'd have happily listened to her recreate the whole album!

Very few people seem to tackle his output of the last twenty years, even if he continues to write prolifically, and occasionally astound us with something unique that doesn’t belong to any of the previous music categories. Perhaps these songs are so personal that they work best through his unique delivery, his actor’s expressiveness, breath control and sense for story-telling – the words on the page often don’t capture his particular use of the voice and images.

Instead of vacuous love songs, cheating songs and breaking up songs, Dylan gave us a whole adult range of love and hurt and regret, bitterness, sadness, reconciliation, acceptance, and forgiveness. He expanded the vocabulary of song-writing.

But hey, if you still don’t like the voice (and he’s actually been through several styles) listen to some of the hundreds of cover versions, and you will find not just amazing words but great tunes. He can do stadium singalong anthems, or simple, cheerful versions, even of the same song – for instance, the two versions of Forever Young on ‘Planet Waves'. He famously doesn’t like sounding like the album, or even like last night’s live version, or doing too many takes in a studio. He remains a spontaneous performer, who likes surrounding himself with great musicians, and playing live.

His recent outing as a DJ on XM Radio, that the BBC bought for the UK (even if he was assisted by researchers) demonstrated the range of music he loves, appreciates and understands – as well as displaying his rueful and deadpan sense of humour (that so many people miss).

Happy birthday, Bob!

Fossil Poetry

2011-05-12T02:02:00.000+01:00

By virtue of this science the poet is the Namer, or Language-maker, naming things sometimes after their appearance, sometimes after their essence, and giving to every one its own name and not another's, thereby rejoicing the intellect, which delights in detachment or boundary.

The poets made all the words, and therefore language is the archives of history, and, if we must say it, a sort of tomb of the muses for, though the origin of most of our words is forgotten, each word was at a stroke of genius, and obtained currency, because for the moment it symbolizes the world to the first speaker and to the hearer.

The etymologist finds the deadest word to have been once a brilliant picture. Language is fossil poetry. As the limestone of the continent consists of infinite masses of the shells of animalcules, so language is made up of images, or tropes, which now, in their secondary use, have long ceased to remind us of their poetic origin. But the poet names the thing because he sees it, or comes one step nearer to it than any other. This expression, or naming, is not art, but a second nature, grown out of the first, as a leaf out of a tree.

What we call nature, is a certain self-regulated motion, or change; and nature does all things by her own hands, and does not leave another to baptise her, but baptises herself; and this through the metamorphosis again.

Ralph Waldo Emerson: Essays: Second Series [1844] The Poet

Mind Maps, WebBrains, creative thinking...

2011-04-07T23:48:00.005+01:00

A couple of years ago I took an online course studying to work as a Net Trainer. Like most qualifications I ever studied for, it has not proved directly relevant to anything I actually do to earn my bio-survival tickets and tokens.

Study does seem to stimulate the brain, though - and when the bodymind improves, the quality of life seems to improve, too. And, indirectly, most things I learn prove relevant in some way. So I have stumbled over the Personal Brain software, that I investigated back then, when looking at mind-mapping software. I couldn't work out if it was just a gimmick, or potentially so much more. It's certainly expensive once you move beyond the free personal brain trial level. Maybe it suits business models better?

Anyway, while procrastinating about writing, I work on projects - Beta Scrivener for Windows, learning Windows 7, looking back at my studies, getting into a Ning social networking and study group with some friends, collating my circus history stuff, using a free Wikispaces space.

And I reactivated the rather dull blog I created at the time of my Net Trainers study - when I was trying to deadpan the formal 'tutor' look. It really doesn't suit me very well, as my bohemian self seems to have emerged again as I turn retirement age and find my self playing Grandfather.

I have also taken a look at the old website, to see whether I should demolish it (it still serves a purpose) or give it a make-over. Currently just tweaking a few pages.

Yolande Philpott - Aromatherapist

2011-03-30T20:13:00.005+01:00

I am glad my daughter has put up a website, so you can now contact her easily. Yolande Philpott - Aromatherapist and Holistic Massage Practitioner

Act Without Words

2011-03-09T02:31:00.006Z

I just went to see one of NoFit State's new projects - still in development, and preparing to launch further afield, I hope. Mundo Paralelo (parallel world)

I loved it!

I've seen a lot of shows in my life, more in my youth (when live shows were more or less the only option) and less recently (when I can use YouTube to catch acts I missed in the past, or simply want to see again, like the wonderful George Carl.)

Live shows remain quite different from recordings of any kind. So to see a live show in a small and intimate theatre remains a treat.

To put this in context - if you don't follow my life, my stream of thought, my previous experiences, etc - I worked in an area which people tend to call 'circus skills' but which seem just as at home in the theatre world when called Music Hall, Variety and Vaudeville, or even on the street.

Traditional 'circus' focused entirely around these kind of acts, whereas theatre-based shows merely used them as filler between comedians and singers, and other 'top of the bill' acts. The performers of specialty acts had to keep moving on, as they had spent years honing these brief but strenuous displays and always had to seek out new audiences. Singers could learn new songs and come back next week, just as comedians could get some new jokes.

I always had a love for these acts that specialized and dedicated insane hours to perfecting something out of the ordinary - but they almost got killed by television, which would show those perfect five minutes (a life's work) to a few million people and then ask "what else do you do, for next week?"

At least they could travel outside of their language zones, as non-verbal acts work almost anywhere in the world. So they traveled endlessly.

In the second half of the twentieth century new acts didn't have places to hone and polish their routines (like the old Variety and Vaudeville circuits) and circus and variety were 'dying out' (although rumours of their death were perhaps premature). A whole new world emerged from fringe and experimental theatre actors and cabaret artistes mingling with performance artists, seeking new venues, reviving and combining old skills, and creating new audiences.

'New circus' (so-called) opened opportunities for supporting and developing this very popular aspect of the performing arts. It created mutant performers - part variety, part actor, part dancer...

NoFit State (in 25 years) has always experimented - moving from alittle Big Top with family-oriented shows, to warehouse-based community-involvement shows all the way up to an international touring show in their unique venue (the UFO tent), drawing on many influences, and creating a distinct company profile which has attracted a range of international performers, designers and directors to work with them.

The recent ambient shows, aimed at young adults, have felt more like being in a club with wonderful stuff happening all around you.

Now NoFit State have begun work on creating a show that could work within the traditional proscenium arch theatre, but not in the form of a play. Many theatre buildings started out filled with the dramatic effects possible within the frame of the stage - trapdoors, revolving scenery, and other special effects - but once film took over they stopped competing in that magical realm, and reverted to some kind of 'flat' realism.

Mundo Paralelo returns to the magical roots of theatre, using all the resources of the hidden spaces in the wings, below the stage, and up in the flies.

The child giggling through the first ten minutes felt like the audience to work for - as the performers exploited all the tricks possible in a theatre, that touring circus is deprived of.

Circus has always been a sculpture, something seen in three dimensions, with very few 'secrets'.

In a theatre it is possible to play with the hidden areas, flying things in and out. We had a music soundtrack (supplemented by live musicians on stage) but no language as such - just humans entering and leaving the stage every which way. I don't intend to break down the show into individual parts, just yet, simply to exclaim at what fun it is to see such a show. Something that doesn't rely on language to be enjoyed. Something full of glee.

A show that makes a child giggle, as well as an adult smile.

It seems worth remembering that the Surrealists loved Circus and Variety (as opposed to the literary, bourgeois theatre of the Academy Francais, etc.) References to Beckett might seem pretentious, but Waiting For Godot works best performed by great clowns like Max Wall (the bowler hat business comes straight from Laurel and Hardy). In Act Without Words I Beckett experimented with an empty stage; a bewildered protagonist teased by ropes lowering objects down from the flies, some simple stage props like cubic boxes; the performer like a rat in a maze, trapped onstage...it might be very deadpan, but Beckett really should make you laugh and sigh (he, like Joyce and many other funny writers got claimed by the po-faced intelligensia).

I loved the emotion in this Mundo Paralelo show, and the laughs, the gasps and sighs. When the performers don't voice an opinion about what you are witnessing it becomes essential that the audience create a soundtrack (I don't mean canned laughter) just as they had to when challenged by the silence of the wonderful (wonder full)mime of Marcel Marceau in his prime alone on stage, or (for instance) the unique Mummenshanz - who defied all categories of mime, mask, puppet, dance and comedy - transfixing a worldwide audience with a unique show, in which the audience formed the only soundtrack.

Mundo Parelelo seems full of possibilities to me. In this, its first week, it achieved a magical level of universal theatre - something that works outside of language limitations. I so look forward to its development and evolution.

My thanks to all the company and crew that provided the show this evening, and I wish you luck in pitching it to the wider world. Either way, and whatever your fate, thank you for a magical evening that reminded me of the best shows I saw as a child, all of which made me want to play in the arts in the first place. Recommended! Delightful!

The Back Story

2011-03-07T12:31:00.003Z

Work on the autobiography has slowed down...some of it has been computer problems (but those are excuses, while I still have pen and paper), some (as ever) technical problems with writing, itself.

How much do I remember? How much old archive stuff can I find to refer to? What can one safely say about people still living (in terms of their privacy, not in terms of being rude about them!)

I don't bear any grudges, to speak of (a few scars, maybe). As one get older it becomes possible to take a wider view of experiences...when I became an adult and an incompetent parent I became much more forgiving of my own parents (I realise they did they best in the circumstances they found themselves in).

Forgiveness feels so much better, anyway - forget the religious advice, or the moral stance. Forgiveness (even if only one-sided and not mutual) drops a whole burden of resentment, guilt, and other negative emotions.

I don't write this in expectation that many people outside my intimate circle would necessarily find it interesting (although I guess I have a pool of Star Wars fans who might find some of it interesting - and even people who wonder how New Circus emerged in the second half of the Twentieth Century. But I don't kid myself.

If no-one else, I would like my descendants to have a few clues to follow, as my own dad's early life seem wreathed in mystery to me. So for Yolande Philpott, my daughter from The Sixties, and her daughter Matilda (who thinks of me as Grandpa Toby, a role I love); for Keili Jorge Philpott (my son from The Seventies, now living in Oz) and for Finlay Pearl (who will reach the age of 16 this year) I want to put down at least a little of what I experienced, why I acted as I did, and made the decisions I did, etc.

It has been a fun life to live, maybe I can turn some of it into an interesting read.

Easy Come, Easy Go

2011-02-14T13:17:00.000Z

A parable from the Sufi as retold by Robert Anton Wilson

A man who had studied much in the schools of wisdom
finally died in the fullness of time and found himself
at the Gates of Eternity.

An angel of light approached him and said, "Go no further,
O mortal, until you have proven to me your worthiness
to enter into Paradise!"

But the man answered, "Just a minute now. First of all, can
you prove to me this is a real Heaven, and not just
the wild fantasy of my disordered mind undergoing death?"

Before the angel could reply, a voice from inside the gates
shouted:
"Let him in - he's one of us!"

Experiment with WebBrain

2011-02-12T13:29:00.001Z

To buy, or not to buy? That is the question.

2011-02-06T18:42:00.003Z

I have to entirely rethink my online life right now. The big hard drive (onto which I had put data from a couple of old HDs) died, but it never got on with the old motherboard, and Microsoft don't like to support XP Home any more, and so on.

It seems pretty symbolic that this PC base should pretty well die on me, as I approach 65.

I have enjoyed getting under the hood for a decade, but I have switched to wanting to write (or 'create content' as we now say) and not have to tinker with the software/hardware all the time.

The first clue was Scrivener Beta not installing, then updates not working, and the whole pack of cards slowly collapsed as I chased the bug.

I now have the choice to carry on cannibalising old machines, and bodging together bits and pieces from the cupboard, forcing them to work together and all that. Or just finally let it go (like the boxes of cassettes, old videos, and other stuff that lies around - data untranslated, probably never to be accessed again).

Beyond a couple of little panics, do I care about what was on that big hard drive? It was mostly stuff imported from older drives, and I have some backup on a 250Gb external drive, and some USB sticks, and such, so I doubt very much is missing...

I may clear my workstation, and just plug the netbook into the monitor, etc, when I get home, and use that. Or buy a new base, probably with Windows 7 - and have to go through all that re-installing of bought software, compatibility issues, finding old license numbers, etc. Or even skip the whole base thing, and go for a simple laptop to complement the netbook.

Meanwhile, this post is coming from an old HD dropped into the base and stumbling on...

I'll make the choice this week.

A Lack of Resolve

2011-01-04T16:43:00.004Z

I don't make resolutions for the 'New Year', myself, and not just because I hate making empty promises to myself, or don't buy an arbitrary change in date as the start of a cycle.

Most resolutions look (to me) like remorseful hangover promises along the lines of "I'll never do that again" - although usually tempered to something more achievable like eating less, drinking less, spending less, stopping smoking and getting more exercise.

I suspect it would work better if people made those resolutions on December 1st, so they didn't get themselves physically damaged and in financial difficulties in the first place, during the holiday period.

But hey, it's easy for me to say.

And people make further attempts after their summer holidays (having lazed around and over-indulged). Still, a tan can hide a multitude of unhealthy pastimes.

So, no, I don't make promises I can't keep... As Yoda says - in a voice pitched somewhere between Fozzy Bear and Miss Piggy (sorry Frank) "Do, or not do. There is no 'try'."

Mind Mapping

2010-12-30T16:21:00.011Z

I remember back in the summer that I started mapping what I use online, with a board and some Post-It notes...

Originally I just wanted to keep track of passwords and IDs, but then I became interested in what sites and software I had tried, the various places I had been, and had signed up for...

I started drawing lines as it got more complicated. (And I still have forgotten things spring to mind again, as well as joining new places, of course... )

It might prove useful in cancelling some unused subscriptions, as well as going back to stuff I liked and forgot about.

Then I tried putting it all into Personal Brain

I may put the dynamic/interactive version of the PB on the website eventually.

Finite and Infinite Games

2010-12-12T13:34:00.009Z

A finite game is played for the purpose of winning, an infinite game for the purpose of continuing the play.

*

Finite players play within boundaries; infinite players play with boundaries.

*

To be prepared against surprise is to be trained. To be prepared for surprise is to be educated.

I recommend this highly compressed meditational book, James P. Carse’s “Finite and Infinite Games: A Vision of Life as Play and Possibility"

Wikipedia will give you a brief glimpse, if you don’t wanna buy it, and you may notice the Kevin Kelly review of just that book, at the bottom of the Wiki page!

You might enjoy these extended notes, again if you don’t have time to read a whole book.

This could appear in the top ten choices of my desert island books...here's Kevin's complete (brief) review:

The wisdom held in this brief book now informs most of what I do in life. Its key distinction - that there are two types of games, finite and infinite - resolves my uncertainties about what to do next. Easy: always choose infinite games. The message is appealing because it is deeply cybernetic, yet it's also genuinely mystical. I get an "aha" every time I return to it.-- KK

Half Truth

2010-12-07T12:22:00.004Z

For some years I have contributed to a collaboratively written blog called Only Maybe, and sometimes I stumble over old entries that still make me smile.

A Zen master lay dying. His monks had gathered around his bed, from the most senior to the most novice monk. The senior monk leaned over to ask the dying master if he had any final words of advice for his monks. The old master slowly opened his eyes and in a weak voice whispered, "Tell them Truth is like a river.” The senior monk passed this piece of information in turn to the monk next to him, and it circulated around the room.

When the words reached the youngest monk he asked, "What does he mean, 'Truth is like a river'?"The question was passed back around the room to the senior monk who leaned over the bed and asked, "Master, what do you mean, 'Truth is like a river'?"

Slowly the master opened his eyes and in a weak voice whispered, "OK, Truth is not like a river."

Total Perspective Vortex

2010-11-17T14:41:00.005Z

Before viewing this vid clip, don't forget that Zaphod Beeblebrox may be the only living being who has ever emerged from the Total Perspective Vortex as sane as he went in.

My first experience of this kind of vertiginous view of our place in the universe was an extraordinary illustrated book called Cosmic View: The Universe in 40 Jumps by Kees Boeke (with us positioned in the middle between the infinitesimally small, and the mind-bogglingly large and deep...) This was done in drawings (1957) because among other things we did not have a whole view of the earth at that point, or maybe something from a satellite only? No human had seen the Earth from space.

Here is another link to an online version. And an eight minute animated film version.

And then emerged a short film called Powers of Ten, by the wife and husband team of Eames in 1977.

Shift happens

2010-11-16T20:22:00.003Z

In case you don't have time to commit to Bobby's well designed course, step-by-step introductions to all the major communication channels available (mostly for free), then just spend a moment with this (out-of-date) YouTube clip.

I dropped out of school in 1964 because I told them they were teaching me stuff that would prove irrelevant to my life (smart-ass kid, getoutofhere) - like, I asked them if I could learn Chinese in the sixth-form (pre-university level school - 16-18 years old - I have no idea what they call that in the USA, China, Japan, India, etc).

I think I might have got something right, even if they considered me a stupid smart-ass kid at the time.
If I could read/write/speak Chinese right now I could have a good job almost anywhere on the planet. Hey ho.

No, I don't have any Chinese (thanks, fellas) but I set out to 'get' internet at the age of 54 (what people who use the Christian calendar vaguely remember as The Millennium, or 2000) and have had a decade of fun - still learning...

People often ask me...

2010-11-16T19:52:00.005Z

...who I studied with online for 3 years. If you have 7 minutes, this YouTube clip might give you a mind-bending sample of the tutor I so enjoyed studying with.

This YouTube piece came from the online course currently run by Bobby Campbell, one of my fellow students.

Robert Anton Wilson's polio came back towards the end of his life, and he couldn't go out on lecture tours any more, so he set up an online study group. We had the pleasure of his company for his last 3 years...

Staggering through the early stages

2010-11-08T14:05:00.003Z

If you wonder at lessening blog posts here and there, I have once again joined the fray to write 50,000 words of fiction in the National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). Apparently even more people started this year, it was trending on Twitter (whatever that means), etc.

Family visits, travelling, gigs and various other incidents mean that I have barely kept up the pace as yet, but I have gritted my teeth and staggered on (surely I should feel this way at the end of a marathon?) And although I don't update my word count every day, you can see here that I am making an effort. Some of the shortfall is scribbled in pencil in a notebook, and awaiting typing up...

Flashbacks - i am stylin'

2010-11-04T14:06:00.003Z

One by one these interviews about Jabba emerge, taking me back to the summer.

Here's John C and me talking to KP from I Am Stylin' at Celebration V in Florida...

Fonts U Like

2010-10-22T13:51:00.002+01:00

I noticed in .Net's magazine that when they selected the top twenty fonts for online design a standard issue (free) font - Georgia - came out top.

Not Helvetica, or one of the modern 'designer objects', which seemed surprising.

So I took the opportunity to change the look of this blog (and make the letters in the main posts larger, while I was at it).

Carry on Tweaking...

God = x

2010-09-23T14:23:00.006+01:00

I recently got involved briefly in another of those interminable ‘how many angels can dance on the head of a pin’ type of futile argument/discussions…about whether atheists using the word ‘probably’ in their slogans sounds like a stupid attempt at placating those they actually hope to ‘convert’ or ‘debrief’.

There probably is no God. Now stop worrying and enjoy your life.

I remain a hard-liner in that I have no need of the concept of a Creator, but I don’t feel like a zealot. I have no desire to stop people believing nonsense, if it keeps them happy (although I do quibble about it when it seems to make them miserable, scared, vicious, etc).

foma - harmless untruths; lies that, if used correctly, can be useful. Bokononism.

"Live by the foma that make you brave and kind and healthy and happy."

I, however, prefer a sublime indifference to beliefs I don’t even begin to understand.

Julie mentioned the other day that most of the disagreements disappear if you replace the word ‘God’ with the word ‘Nature’, and I know what she means, but it doesn’t completely work for me. I have felt the same way since when I first came across Taoism (in my teens) and finally thought I had come across a group of people who saw things the same way as myself – describing that final ‘unity’ as a mystery, not only that can never be described except with inadequate labels, but never truly ‘known’.

The Tao that can be described in words is not the true Tao.

Only later did I discover in the Western tradition that several Gnostic sects had taken the same approach – that any attempt to describe or understand the source or ground of being appears doomed to failure. ‘God’ as remote and ineffable. The Unknown God.

I acknowledge one great invisible God, unrevealable, unmarked, ageless and unproclaimable

And in fact if everyone used the word to mean that, then I wouldn’t see any problem with it. Unfortunately, it is what Korzybski called a multi-ordinal (word with multiple meanings) which can lead to all kinds of misunderstandings.

I can never even work out whether people who use the word imply ‘God is love’ (trust that a benign higher being has a plan and a purpose for you) or ‘God is very strict – a firm but fair father’ (the god-fearing person as the ideal human), etc.

The Church of God the Utterly Indifferent appears in Vonnegut’s Sirens of Titan.

And why a father and not a mother?

So anyway. Many of these discussions would vanish if we simply used the word to mean the completely unknowable, rather than assuming some kind of conscious being can ever be found or contacted. It would then seem obvious why religious people think of much science as somehow blasphemous or pointless - trying to explain the ultimately (by definition) unexplainable.

God moves in mysterious ways

If we treat the word ‘God’ as just a marker for something we don’t know at the moment, as in algebra we use ‘x’, then we leave it open that we may ‘solve’ the equation at some point, although it seems likely that we may end up with the kind of odd results that led mathematicians to have to describe and accept ‘imaginary numbers’, ‘irrational numbers’, and other curious outcomes.

Accept the Mystery

I doubt that we can ever ‘solve’ what people mean by God to some simple answer, especially if we use the label to describe the Great Unknown – Tao – Process – Nature.

Update: Friday 24th September - the influence of my Theosophical father must not be ignored, so I guess it might intrigue you to read this lecture from Stephan Hoeller, from 2003, which clarifies the Gnostic belief system, and myths as educational tools, and much more (including, perhaps, my own antagonism to the established church). I mentioned a lot of this (and more) in a post to this blog, from 2004, called Follow Your Bliss.

Leaving no trace

2010-09-20T16:55:00.003+01:00

I am amused to find how many people want to make a mark on the world.

“…some are building monuments, others are jotting down notes…”
Quinn the Eskimo/Dylan

From when I was quite young I hoped to slip through this life unnoticed, leaving no trace. I certainly don't understand the modern desire to 'be famous' (in the spotlight the whole time). I didn’t find much support for this atitude until I came across Buddhism, and especially the Zen version of that ‘belief system’ or ‘approach to life’.

"When you do something, you should burn yourself completely, like a good bonfire, leaving no trace of yourself."
---Shunryu Suzuki, Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind (1970)

Even better than that advice about immersion into the present moment, and current activity, I liked the fact that Zen practitioners seemed to perceive the whole of life as ephemeral:

To what shall I compare this life of ours?
Even before I can say
it is like a lightning flash or a dewdrop
it is no more.

- Sengai

It even seemed that both the conscious mind and the perceived world might not only disappear, but perhaps were ‘never here at all’ as separate entities (and other such tricky ideas).

True dhyana is to realize that one's own nature is like space, and that thoughts and sensations come and go in the 'original mind' like birds through the sky, leaving no trace.

This calls to mind the famous, beautiful couplet from the Zenrin:

The wild geese do not intend to cast their reflection;
The water has no mind to receive their image.

Watts, Alan. The Way of Zen. New York: Pantheon, 1957 pp 93-4)

So I find the urge to write a book rather like trying to write my name on the surface of a pool of water. But I guess the image of a life as a series of waves after a pebble gets thrown in, rippling out to the edge of the pond and back towards the source (creating complex interference patterns of overlapping waves), and finally settling down (leaving no trace) always appealed to me.

Even when we do leave a physical mark like a book or a piece of art, a building, a wall, a map or a drinking well, it probably still has a finite life span before it becomes lost or forgotten or simply falls into disuse.

And in this particular life I mostly worked as a performer in live events, passing shows which linger only in the minds of the audience, for a while. The ephemeral arts.

It feels strange to realise that I have now left performances on film, which will get copied forward into new media, and possibly not fade for a very long time…I feel pleased that they are not images of me, though, but of a fully-realised character, who can live on without further input from me.

Leaving no trace, or making your mark, both work on many levels. You may not be credited with some changes you made, which nevertheless continue to influence others. You may have no idea about your descendants, and what they might achieve.

And on a daily basis, we have campaigners who want us to go out and enjoy nature, to escape from the city, but to attempt to leave no trace of our passing…while others prefer to erect signs, create trails, and otherwise help others who come behind them. Neither path seems like the whole truth.

Leave No Trace Dude

Oh no, I may be going viral...

2010-09-06T12:30:00.012+01:00

Although a couple of people shoved microphones at me, when I was in Orlando, I never expect such moments to be anything much more than a local radio station, or a fan website, etc.

Great fun, but I never assume anyone outside the fan base (however large that is) will come across it.

This anecdote (and I hope Carrie Fisher doesn't pop up and tell me I got it wrong all these years - which could happen, because the story is actually about how little we could see, and how little we knew about what was going on. If I had been invited to see the rushes I could probably tell you what actually happened...) ahem, anyway, this anecdote seems to have caught the ear of an editor somewhere, and after appearing on the Moviefone site it has migrated to the AOL/Video page, where it is apparently getting lots of hits!

The Man Who Licked Princess Leia: An Interview With Jabba the Hutt Puppeteer Toby Philpott

Here, there, but not everywhere

2010-09-04T13:23:00.002+01:00

I don't understand quite what the changes at FB involve, but don't want to lose this map, so have exported it. I have got about a bit, which is surprising with no money to speak of, but have never been south of the equator (for instance) or to India or Africa (a couple of big continents you might think it hard to miss). Hey ho.

Create your own travel map or travel blog

Find the best holiday rentals at TripAdvisor

Turn your blog into a book

2010-09-01T10:21:00.002+01:00

It still strikes me as funny that people keep predicting the end of 'the book' as a tangible, portable object - and yet the new print-on-demand technology means we can print off short runs (just as many people still print out emails to read, etc).

And now blogs can be reproduced as books (it's another form of storage after all, for when we run out of oil/electricity/internet).

Blogs2Print

Fifty Writing Tools: Quick List

2010-08-31T21:39:00.000+01:00

Fifty Writing Tools: Quick List

2010-08-21T09:53:00.001+01:00

Contents by Ernst Jandl

I've got nothing to make a poem

a whole language

a whole life

a whole mind

a whole memory

I've got nothing to make a poem

Ernst Jandl on Ubuweb

Mindset

2010-08-20T10:39:00.002+01:00

I just got an invite to an online seminar (Library 2.0) with the author of Mindset, with these intriguing notes attached:

According to Dweck, individuals can be placed on a continuum according to their implicit views of where ability comes from.

Some believe their success is based on innate ability; these are said to have a 'fixed' theory of intelligence. Others, who believe their success is based on hard work and learning, are said to have a 'growth' or an 'incremental' theory of intelligence.

Individuals may not necessarily be aware of their own mindset, but their mindset can still be discerned based on their behavior. It is especially evident in their reaction to failure. Fixed-mindset individuals dread failure because it is a negative statement on their basic abilities, while growth mindset individuals don't mind failure as much because they realize their performance can be improved.

These two mindsets play an important role in all aspects of a person's life. Dweck argues that the growth mindset will allow a person to live a less stressful and more successful life.

"This is important because (1) individuals with a 'growth' theory are more likely to continue working hard despite setbacks and (2) individuals' theories of intelligence can be affected by subtle environmental cues. For example, children given praise such as 'good job, you're very smart' are much more likely to develop an fixed mindset, whereas if given compliments like 'good job, you worked very hard' they are likely to develop a growth mindset. In other words, it is possible to encourage students, for example, to persist despite failure by encouraging them to think about learning in a certain way."

Notes towards the record of a journey

2010-08-12T04:23:00.002+01:00

Day One - Tuesday 10th August 2010

For all the safety margins, of allowing two hours for check in, and all that – I don’t really trust the rail network, and the really early trains cost a fortune (travelling in the rush hour) so I decided not to risk the tight connection, and travel down the night before, and stay in a cheap room near the airport.

The first train was half an hour late, so I missed the connection at Reading, so arrived an hour after the planned time – exactly the sort of thing which would have left he in a cold panic if I had travelled on the day with no room to manoeuvre.

When I was a performer, moving around on public transport, I always used to find the appropriate train/bus/plane for arriving at the gig, and then take the one before that, a system which often meant I arrived early (which rarely bothered the people who were hiring me, they could tick one more thing of their organiser’s list) and gave me time to check out the venue, size up the crowd, warm up the bodymind, and generally settle down. When that transport failed or was delayed I still felt pretty secure. Only in extreme weather conditions (say) or bomb scares, would both completely let me down...and I would usually have figured out alternatives then, too.

Funnily enough, the only gig I ever missed was one where I overslept, woke up horrified to know that I wasn’t going to make it across town in time for a school show, rang the school in anguish to apologise (thinking I would get the ‘but we have a hall full of children all waiting to see you’ sob story) only to hear a relieved voice, explaining that they had had to close the school (an epidemic or something) but couldn’t find my number to let me know not to come!

Result!

What a great thing it is to have a telepathic subconscious which allowed my a lie-in, and saved me rushing all the way across town and trailing all the way back forlorn. I could have done without the moment of cold sweat, however!

As these convention gigs lie somewhere on the spectrum between ‘working’ and ‘fun’ I don’t feel quite the same amount of stage fright (though I get some, of course, heading into the unknown where you might suddenly find yourself talking in front of 2000 people, or interviewed on television). But I still hate panic adrenaline, which seems different from the stage fright rush/buzz.

With panic, the most you can hope for is relief (catching the plane) and the worst case scenario remains that your deepest fears get realised. With stage fright you can have good shows and bad shows.

Day Two – Wednesday 11th Aug

Got up calmly enough, and now sitting chilled in the lounge, one hour ahead of schedule...no rush to get to the airport, as I have done an online check-in. I won’t start to fret again for half an hour or so...

Tranquil lift to North Terminal, long lines for baggage drop, but no rush. Security did want to look through my little bag, but I guess I have a lot of little gizmos to go with the netbook, external hard drive, microphone, headphones, and a camera, and Blackberry – I really seem to have become quite a major geek, but then again I always liked gizmos, it was just that (for instance) the magic ones were things the public should never see...as he unpacked I noticed a pack of cards still accompanies me, even though I never perform (or even practice) magic tricks any more. Some of these things remain ‘superstitions’ (hangovers from previous beliefs), and lucky charms (jujus) like the silver half dollar (1920), old English penny (1964)and Irish pound (punt)coin (1990) in my back pocket.

Some are actually useful.

I enjoy people watching at airports, but I don’t know if I really have the novelist’s eye, or the curiosity which attributes back story to people (the way an actor might).

It’s interesting how slowed down all this people management is again. In movies of the Second World War movement around Europe (mostly by train, I guess) was always hazardous, and crossing borders became very difficult for many.

In that first boom of tourism back in the Sixties, when people started taking holidays outside their home country, the whole plane travel thing seemed pretty smooth, although it has always been true for me that it takes longer to the airport and into check-out, than the whole flight combined, which still seems weird to me.

There’s something redundant about moving all these bodies around, with all their ‘stuff’, when so much of what they are doing could now be done remotely.

OK, you can’t enjoy a virtual sun tan as much, or hug your relatives through a screen, but much business can surely be done remotely – you only need face to face for that final handshake of trust. This brings up my old obsession (previously discussed as Body Mind duality) – with the body in a particular place, the skeleton which limits the size and orientation, the fragility and resilience (self-mending) of the body...and (for so many people) the identification with the body, including the grooming, the feeding, the exercise, the sex life and all that. It’s also the body they lock up, or torture, of course. Houdini was one of the few people for whom a pair of handcuffs did not simply but effectively incapacitate a person.

Minds can communicate across centuries, across the world, through various media (let’s skip telepathy for a moment!) Mind (s) does not appear to have a location, in spite of attempts to locate consciousness in the brain, the pineal gland, the heart, etc. It appears fully distributed through the system, and not just the sub-system of the body, and nervous system, but through the environment and cosmos.

It’s all very mysterious. But hey, for all the remote communication I do, some fans want to meet, shake hands and talk direct, so here I sit in an airport, about to use up everybody’s carbon ‘allowance’ to move this ageing body across the world for a week (and, hopefully, back).

The vegan meal turned out a pleasant surprise, just like the window seat. The movie screen is a bit scuzzy on the inside (can’t clean it) but I kinda enjoyed From Paris With Love – silly though it is. Jolly special agent sociopath played by John Travolta (complete with self-referential Royale with Cheese) kills dozens of peoples quite carelessly, without getting a scratch – only the hesitant side-kick gets hurt (“when I say shoot the fucker, shoot the fucker,” urges John T). He redeems himself by bracing himself to shoot his girl-friend in the head...

I know the old hero legends don’t pretend to claim reality, but these kind of shoot-em-ups owe a lot to computer games, I reckon – where the hero doesn’t ever risk anything more than resetting the game and trying again.

Reverting to the one little body, one big mind theme. You only got the one body in real life...take care of it! These are just mind games. All in your imagination. No post-traumatic disorder, no shock, no stress... These don’t resemble real people at all (except for, maybe, sociopaths). Calling them ‘professionals’ just doesn’t cut it, really, as though you just learn to be cold-hearted.

Hey ho, back to the book, or shall I sample another unsatisfactory viewing experience (the interior light reflecting me onto the screen, combined with the person in front leaning their chair all the way back does make it the film equivalent of that tinny noise you hear off someone else’s headphones (in the days of Walkmans). Now people just play it at you so you can envy their mobiles...

Even typing is hard when this close up. I guess I have to declare the apples and peanuts I have in my bag, and they will probably get confiscated (sigh) but being in the overhead locker I really can’t get at them and eat them before arriving...

I remember getting stopped going from California to Arizona, and being forced to eat the oranges out of my rucksack, if I didn’t want to leave them at the border...back in the 70s... but I don’t remember declaring illegal import of fruit and vegetables since. Perhaps Florida has different rules from California...

Just set my watch to Orlando time, but it won’t help a lot if they sit me down to sign hundreds of photos for crew and the Official Pix shop. I got RSI last time I attempted that in Indianapolis. One day at a time...

Time seems to be passing OK....given that I only stood up once in the last 5 hours...
I elected for the recent Sherlock Holmes, with Robert Downey Jr, not something intended to go to the cinema to see.

Jude Law, too, of course (Watson taller than Holmes). Plenty of Guy Ritchie gimmicks, most of which are very amusing, but I really do get tired of cgi awfully quickly (either find a location or build a huge set, to impress me). It detracts from any sense of peril at all (and why is gravity so hard to simulate? Anyone?

Still, it was a couple of hours of anyone’s life, and all reasonably amusing, especially as it had all the fun of black magic, while holding onto Holmes’ (and my) rational universe. A series of (improbable, Magic Christian) conjuring tricks, bribed folks, and other sub plots…including Moriarty with an agenda of his own…

An amusing couple of hours though, because I like Mr Downey (although he truly reminded me of Emil Wolk in this particular guise…) Emil was my first clown mentor.

Ahem. Orlando airport was a shambles, it took three hours to get out. They had had a system down scenario, and the backlog was evident.

CUT!

I don't want to detail those hours right now. I finally (finally!) arrived at the hotel, only to feel like Mafia Royalty. Swimming pools, palm trees, Florida posh hotel. I'd normally be in the cheapest little beat room in the red-light district or whatever.

So life continues to throw contrasts at me, and I get to roam through the spectrum of 'how others live'. That was possibly the joy I had in the 70s as I worked in the role of jester/clow/comedy juggler/workshop leader - and found myself entertaining street parties in Liverpool one day (they put us up in a squat) and a children's party at the Peruvian Embassy (or whatever) the next. I did sleazy banquet gigs, but also spent the weekend as an invited guest at Knebworth House, sitting around the pool with minor aristocrats, and people who ran big stores in London, etc. Contrast. Doing a free gig in a children's hospital one day, and attempting to entertain a coachload of Coca-Cola executives the next.

Don't get me started, this is autobiography material.

Didn't see the others just yet, so scored a bottle of red and logged onto hotel internet.

mis-attributed jokes

2010-08-04T14:13:00.000+01:00

"God is a comedian performing for an audience that is too afraid to laugh." - Voltaire

Or did Nietzsche write that? The Internet seems unsure...

Nothing New

2010-07-31T14:46:00.003+01:00

Julie has pointed out to me how rarely I update this blog.

I don't want it to turn into just another empty vessel cast adrift like the Marie Celeste on the ocean of internet - the flotsam and jetsam of abandoned sites, great ideas that withered away, ambitions that faded.

I'd prefer to take it down than that.

Still, it proved useful over the last decade, as a diary and such, but I have expanded my repetoire, and my blog count, and seem to have a specialised one for most of my interests, so this 'generalist' one gets neglected, and maybe I only update once a month or so.

Here's a selection (not a definitive list, but indicating the variety):

Intelligence Increase (a blog about magic, cons, scams, manipulation, etc)
Right...Well... (created as a temporary notepad for my attempt to write a film script in a month - with Script Frenzy - I have decided to keep it on as my 'creative writing' blog)
Anon the Librarian (created as part of my demo to people at work of the use of modern social networking and publishing media)
Ty Cariad (supports the website for the cottage, while it is being rented out as a holiday destination)
Only Maybe (a collaborative blog I established for students and graduates of the Maybe Logic Academy)

Those are all on Blogger, but I put this e-Tutor one on WordPress, when experimenting as part of my Net Trainers course.

Pen Names

2010-07-06T17:30:00.004+01:00

Although (and of course) a lot of the fun of the Internet arises from using avatars and sock puppets and other simulations, masks and disguises...I have begun to map the various places 'I' have set up camp.

It may turn out that I don't want people to make all the connections (different hats for different sub-personalities), so the final hyper-linked map may remain just for my own use, but to give you an idea, here is the board with Post-It Notes that I am using to begin to trace all the places I use. Every now and then I get an "Aha!" moment and have to add another whole thread...

Without this, some blogs just become empty vessels, messages in bottles drifting helplessly on the cybertides; websites become boringly out-of-date and redundant, etc.

Here, there and everywhere

2010-05-26T19:07:00.004+01:00

I don't come to this blog as often as I used to - it's been around a long time.

I have all kinds of other online presence, and sometimes I forget to keep all the balls in the air.

What I like about this one remains that I can dig back through it like old diaries.

A simple keyword in the Blog Search, like "Paris" takes me back to 2008 (Maybe Logic meet-up), 2004 (Paris Star Wars convention), 2002 (First visit to Paris with the Star Wars group), etc.

I will be heading off to Denmark tomorrow - for a long weekend...

Wanna simple domain name?

2010-04-27T21:07:00.002+01:00

The clunky old address came for free with my ISP, and they have since changed from ntlworld to Virgin, without changing their URLs, and all that. But http://tobyphilpott.tk/ will find me.

I decided to take a free domain name from Dot.tk - this remains free so long as you have (I think it is) 25 visits per month or something. Anyway, I used it, and eventually decided to upgrade to the paid domain name, because it seems like a good cause to help people whose island just might disappear if the oceans keep rising, for instance. And, anyway, I love that each country got its own little part of the Internet.

TK = Tokelau.

According to that Wiki piece "Tokelau has added more than 10% to its GDP through registrations of domain names under its top-level domain, .tk"

So click on the image below, if you want to find out more...

It's too damned quiet!

2010-04-15T17:13:00.003+01:00

If anyone wondered where I went (I doubt it) then you should know I have written a film script in the last fortnight.

I didn't say it was any good (or even finished) but I completed the first draft in half the time allotted by Script Frenzy.

Here's my entry page on Script Frenzy - already at the 100 page mark, as planned for the end of April.

To help me focus, I started a separate blog for the Script process, and may keep it going for writing projects generally.

You can find that here: Right...well...

Busking and Hat Fairs

2010-04-09T12:19:00.007+01:00

It was great to hear from Mike Read the other day. He's the man behind the original Covent Garden Hat Fairs (1973/4) - long before the 'official busking for tourists' that you now see.

When I was a kid the theatre queues around Covent Garden had entertainers to amuse them while they waited to go in. The tradition had faded, but quite a few of us had started to rebuild the busking tradition. I did juggling, magic, acrobatics and fire-eating - working solo, as well as with The Raree Show, and with Justin Case (as Foolproof).

While Covent Garden was still a fruit and vegetable market, and an unusual and atmospheric place (working through the night, pubs open at dawn, etc) Mike got permission for people to busk anywhere within the area for a couple of days a year. No booking in advance, no payment, no auditions for quality and very little supervision. Wonderful, joyous anarchy in the streets.

A culture clash (and local politics) eventually drove the Hat Fair away, but it landed in Winchester and has thrived for 36 years now. London's loss, as far as I am concerned.

Winchester Hat Fair.

Anyway, Mike is writing something about the period, and was digging around for stories and photos, etc. On my website I had quoted a delightful impressionistic piece by Gerard Benson (Poet Laureate of Bradford) which appeared in the New Statesman at the time - Hats in the air.

Clocks go forward - it's gonna be later than you think

2010-03-28T04:06:00.002+01:00

Of course, when I won't get any sleep anyway I start playing on the Web.

All the people we used to know
They’re an illusion to me now.
Some are mathematicians
Some are carpenters’ wives.
Don’t know how it all got started,
I don’t know what they’re doin’ with their lives.

If you know Dylan, then you know the lyrics of Tangled Up In Blue by heart, so you can enjoy him just grinning through it live on a fan video from 1999 (he does a good live show, with a great band, as ever)...

If you still don't understand what he said (like yer dad) or what he did to lyrics (not just words, or 'poetry') then you can read them (hear) as subtitles here.

And if that just don't do it for you, try K T Tunstall really storming the whole thing.

Script-writing

2010-03-18T11:24:00.003Z

The countdown is already getting like the clock on the bomb at the end of the movie, when the hero tries to guess whether to cut the red or the blue wire.

It's not so much a device for blowing people up, as for winding up the tension for a climax.

It actually allows you to put a clock on the screen (but editors manipulate 'real time').

Why do you find me mumbling to myself? Well, I have made half a commitment to take part in Script Frenzy, and I suspect a bit of planning might prove more important with a screenplay, than with a novel.

And I haven't done any planning, and April looms.

Writing for the hell of it...

2010-02-27T09:25:00.003Z

Didn't pass the audition

Well, I didn't make the first cut at CreateSpace (the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award) but wasn't entirely surprised as I entered on a whim, and didn't really understand what I had to do to 'pitch' it, having never written to an agent or publisher, etc.

I am so diffident that (without looking back) I suspect I said I had written it in a hurry, done very little editing, felt rather pleased with myself, etc. Well, no, actually, I described it as an adrenaline-free book, a gentle soul...

[oh, OK, I'll dig out what I wrote some time - the first odd thing about the set-up was the lack of confirming emails when uploading - to the point that I began to feel unsure I had even entered successfully...]

Waiting to hear

Anyway - it was fun to join the countdown, and read all the forum entries, although some people seem to suffer real angst (like people who enjoy the rush of the lottery numbers announcement followed by the almost universal disappointment). I got a little excited, but not a lot - I prefer surprising success to over-optimism followed by depression.

Still, some people obviously put a lot into this, and hope to write their way out of poverty, or give up the day job, etc - and I simply don't expect that sort of thing to happen. If I could write something people enjoyed, and maybe make a little pin-money, I would be perfectly blissed out!

Been there, done that

Mick dreamed of writing his way into a livelihood, and got very down about his 'failure'. You have to be tough to take such rejection. It's why I could never be an actor or a chorus dancer, endlessly attending auditions, then going back to waiting at tables. It would destroy me. I got into show-biz by learning something unusual, then going out to offer it on street corners as a solo performer. Of course, the roaming public are critics, too, but they simply don't have to pay you, they don't have to analyse why. And if you enjoy what you do (I loved juggling) you can do it anyway without an audience. At the moment I write for my own amusement.

Oh, and I self-published the best cut I could make of Mick's book, too. Another Kinda Time.

Writing by Numbers

2010-02-19T15:51:00.007Z

I did some inventory work for the library yesterday, and found myself doing the Crime, Mysteries and Thrillers section.

I see a lot of post-Dan-Brown books - keywords: conspiracy, secret societies, etc.

Perhaps I should try one of those. Let's see, I'll need some kind of formula. It won't be easy for me because even though you can avoid sex scenes (the same way old sci-fi used to) you can't avoid death, and preferably torture, sadism, disfigurement and a lot of other stuff far beyond tying your heroine to a railway line - which I may find hard to write.

However - I can't give up before starting, so, let's see. I'll need these elements:

Famous Location(s) - Tourist attractions, cathedrals, special cities, etc. which might (or might not) like the publicity your book generates.
Famous People of the past - Who's been done? Mozart (Freemasons), Van Gogh, Gaudi, Da Vinci (or rather Leonardo) of course, Jesus and Mary, Shakespeare, Kennedy Bros, Elvis, Marilyn.
Imaginary organisations (or imaginative alternative uses for existing ones) or very secret societies - [eldritch rising organ music]
Scary events - Bond villain plans for the world – religious prophecies – natural catastrophes – alien invasion – ritual murder – abduction
Alternative Historical interpretations of source of civilization/religion, etc
Money (almost infinite resources to jump on planes, etc)
Religion - and esoteric belief systems of magic(k) or witchcraft
Espionage – codes and cyphers
A MacGuffin everyone is looking for (manuscripts, formula, Holy Grail, magic spear, etc)
Ingenious methods (technology from Q, magic from Jonathan Creek)
a couple of investigators - partly qualified but a little out of their depth
some innocents dragged into the whole thing – often in jeopardy
plenty of disposable villains (for getting their come-uppance)
the Grinning Sadist – boss’s sidekick or lone wolf?
a worthy opponent for our heros (curiously charming - but dangerous - Big Boss, or terrifyingly unhinged tyrant)
Special helpers (Mycroft Holmes, professors, etc) - usually die, too
Anonymous super-rich people (malign or benign) – provided with helicopters, forts, wodges of cash, etc
Celebrities (who, like police and spies, have access all areas – assistants, second homes, etc – disadvantage – easily recognised)

One obvious advantage of 'professors' is that they can lecture the protagonists with all the author’s research notes – just as they can explain their own specialities ad nauseum.

Although our protagonists should feel attracted to each other, for a little sexual frisson, they should be too busy running for their lives to actually find time to get it on, as they might in a bodice-ripper – and if you really want to make the goodie angry, try killing the woman he intended to commit to (leaving him an embittered but free bachelor for the next book).

It used to suffice to have a killing for murder mysteries, but jaded palates mean that you now have to have at least a serial killer, ideally a child killer, and perhaps multiple rapist as well (if you can sneak in the paedophile ring of respectable people, even better). The grinning sadist fits well in here. If even that doesn’t suffice you may have to escalate to genocide and dictators to give the reader a thrill, or even the end of the world and the human race.

Best to try to avoid farce at this point (DNA's starting point for H2G2 is the Earth being blown up by a Vogon Constructor Fleet developing a hyperspace bypass).

I guess if I want to make people squirm and curl their toes, without describing the torture of humans, I may have to do a very graphic scene in an abattoir, maybe.

Another novel idea

2010-02-15T16:47:00.003Z

You don't see me much in here, but that's because I work on several blogs and forums, etc - not because this blog has died!

I came across The Blooker Prize today - originally a Lulu idea, for books based on blogs or websites, etc.

Their blog may prove more informative, as that new site still has some dead links, etc.

Cory Doctorow remains good value, as ever - so worth at least a quick look at the blog.

Some radio alternatives for when at the computer

2010-01-30T19:12:00.007Z

Spiritplants Radio

Radio Free Amsterdam - (with John Sinclair - and sometimes DJ Fly Agaric)

GD Radio - (Grateful Dead and more)

MacVooty Radio (Slim Gaillard)

The 2 Zillion Year Old Hippie (podcasts)

Writing On...

2010-01-13T21:04:00.012Z

The piece I wrote in the novel-writing competition – NaNoWriMo - needs a LOT of work...and I have done a bit of thinking about it, but haven’t seriously ripped it apart to attempt a re-write, yet.

I decided to send a brief version of my story into the BBC ‘My Story’ competition, why not? Just keep on practising. So you can see “Amusing and Amazing Myself” posted up, under Achievement (see link above). I didn’t feel entirely happy with the category, but I didn’t really fit into any of the others available. I feel a bit sheepish, aligning myself with dyslexics who wrote books, paraplegic athletes, and the currently very-popular-with-publishers “survivors of traumatic childhoods”...but hey.

Another strange thing.

I always like ‘learning by doing’, so have experimented with Lulu Print-On-Demand, knowing full well that I wouldn’t expect to sell any books (I don’t kid myself about having any kind of profile in the internet) except for the ones I buy myself, to get hard copies in my hands, or to give to friends or family.

I say all that because I discovered something strange yesterday. I had put a price on the various books I have published, as a series of experiments in formats (spiral bound, large paperback, small paperback, etc) – and the price mostly just covered the actual cost to Lulu. As I wasn’t expecting to sell any, there didn’t seem much point in marking it up. And I made downloading PDF copies FREE.

I buy my own copies at cost, of course.

But then I went onto the site, and rummaged around in the account, to find to my amazement that three of the books have been downloaded (free) more than a hundred times. Astonishing! Would that have happened if I had charged a quid? I doubt it. Free downloads are so easy that there is no guarantee that anyone who downloaded stuff has actually read the things.

Still, it’s surprising to me.

[Update: 26th January: although all the tax requirements of CreateSpaces offer of a free draft copy stopped me applying - I still use Lulu - I decided to put Infinite Monkeys (from 2008) into the 2010 Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award. Why not? It's all a learning curve, including rejections.]

Wish me luck for round one after February 7th!

George Carl always makes me laugh - Merry Christmas!

2009-12-23T11:22:00.003Z

Handwaving first draft (draught?)

2009-12-10T14:49:00.003Z

While writing this first draft of a novel I discovered Auto-Summarize in Word. It's a bit clunky, to be honest, but another fun toy like cut-ups, word clouds, etc. These are the 500 words it chose, when asked:

Frank pulled the door shut behind him, for the last time. Another TAZ gallery closed.

People strolled by, and glanced into his room, but kept going. Frank sighed.

“Feel free,” said Frank.

The women fluttered a little, then looked around the room again.

“Sure,” said Frank.

Frank nodded.

The room had begun to become an attraction. For some reason, many people seemed to enjoy his room more than reverently wandering around other rooms in the gallery, discussing the works in hushed tones.

With his folio of material, and his guest book, Frank had little trouble getting another white room in a gallery. “OK, Frank, see you later.” The other two people seemed younger than George. Most of the public rooms are more like a museum, art gallery sort of thing. “Do you mind if I take photos?”

“Sebastian,” he said.

“Not so much a drawing room, as a withdrawing room,” he said.

Frank left the building.

The older man laughed.

Frank paid attention again.

“Frank is bringing to life a room with a future as just one room in an art gallery. “Air.”
“Art?”

Sebastian being oblique.

“George’s three initiations.”

said Mo, turning to Frank. “If we can find the right room,” added Sebastian.

George’s little soirees seemed catalytic for many people. Frank stood next to Sebastian for a while.

Sorry if that sounds superstitious.”

Tina and Izzy had arrived back, having chosen their rooms.

“Wow, again,” said Frank.

Frank had kept his London flat. Sculpture has presence in a room.

Just the thought of art. A room where I can remember other galleries, other rooms. The world already has enough rooms. We can’t all visit all the rooms.

“Never heard of him,” said Frank.

Sebastian smiled. Owl looked sideways at Frank. There were times when Frank sat in his room wishing he had some input. “Meh,” said Sebastian, “it’s just art and money, dancing.”

The L-Shaped Room.

Your room gave him freedom for a moment, from playing the old man.

The art of chess, the art of war.

So you pretend to make art, or you make pretend art?” Frank smiled at the boyish glee. “The art of Buster Keaton?”

“Hey, real art!”

“Yes, I always enjoy it when people play in my room, and make the art for the next visitor.”

Just gimme a white room.”

I’d love a white room with a passive artist in it. Up-time. “Why is it not art?”

Frank just sat.

The Marquis came into the room. “Is Frank here?”

There were times when Frank sat in his room wishing he had some input. The screen effectively divided the room. George smiled.

“Great!”

Frank was astounded and appalled. “George!” “To politics, art and money!” “Okaaay,” said Frank, cautiously. Izzy looked at Frank, puzzled.

“Relax, Frank,” said George, which didn’t help a bit.

“Relax, Frank!” “Frank,” said George. Apart from frivolous art investments.”

Look at the size of that!

2009-12-04T12:13:00.004Z

check out the NaNoWriMo blog for more details, updates, etc.

2009 Stats:

This year, we had 167,150 participants, up 40% from 2008's total of 119,301.

We wrote a total of 2,427,190,537 words, up 48% from 2008's collective word count of 1,643,343,993.

(that's over 2 billion words from the typing monkeys!)

This averaged out to 14,531 words per person.

We had 32,173 winners, up 48% from 2008's total of 21,683.

This gave us a 19.2% win rate, the highest in modern NaNoWriMo history. (Last year we had an 18.2% win rate; in 2007 it was 15.1%).

Another rough draft completed!

2009-11-30T15:29:00.006Z

When I used to write articles I didn't even do a 'first' draft, but would start with a 'zero draft' which had no pressure on it at all, just a brainstorm of ideas poured out onto the page.

I guess that's what NaNoWriMo novels feel like - no hesitating, no re-reading, just get it down.

Somerset Maugham, the renowned novelist, once joked that, “There are three rules for writing a novel. Unfortunately no one knows what they are.”

So now I have done that, I may take the raw material and try to make a 'first draft' at some point. Perhaps I should put it away, to cool down, for a bit.

But I have 50,000 words to play with, cut-up and mess around with.

I know many people have little curiosity about the game (or not enough time) but if you do want to know more, go to my NaNoWriMo account, where you can see an excerpt under the Novel Info tab, etc.

And please don't, as most people do when I say I have written a book, ask "What's it about?" because I can only at the moment offer a slightly sarcastic, "It's about fifty thousand words long."

[I stole that from Marilyn Monroe, who, when asked about her nude calendar by a prurient reporter, "Do you mean you had nothing on?" replied, "Oh, no. I had the radio on."]

Future Wave?

2009-11-14T14:33:00.002Z

Just received my invite to beta test Google Wave, which is fun!

Of course, like the first person with a telephone, you lack someone to call!

Fortunately, at least a couple of friends have already found their way in, so we can start testing, probing and playing to see the benefits.

I won't do the rant here, yet - as I have only seen the video! Inevitably, such an interactive piece of future software remains blocked at the library where I work, but here in Starbucks (hiding from the rain) it works fine on their BT FreeZone, although a netbook screen is possibly not ideal for such a complex front end.

Like I say, I don't like to judge until I have played with the settings, got used to the navigation, etc.

Anyone else out there on Wave, who reads this thing?

So far, so good...

2009-11-01T17:55:00.006Z

Having passed 32K, slightly ahead of schedule for us 50K folks (I know others do even more!) I took a moment to make a word cloud of 'Handwaving' so far, I don't know if I have the balance right at all yet, but I have enjoyed a fair percent of the writing - sombunall (some but not all).

Playing with Clouds

2009-10-27T20:06:00.001Z

I just went off to Wordle, to try making clouds...

Serendipity and The Fairy Feller's Master Stroke

2009-10-16T15:09:00.004+01:00

I do love browsing libraries (and secondhand bookshops) because of the accidental finds.

The other day I saw Michael Chabon's The Wonder Boys, and having enjoyed the movie decided to read the book. It turned out excellent, so I checked him out (Wikipedia, etc) and then went back to our shelves to see what else we had by him.

I now have a copy of The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay (if I can find time to 650pp, however readable!)

More interestingly, nestled next to it I found a slim novella called The Fairy Feller's Master Stroke by Mark Chadbourn. I have been to see Dadd's extraordinary painting live (no reproductions do it justice - it's 3-D in oils) and it remains one of my favourite ever pictures. This novella comes with an Intro by Neil Gaiman, too. Looking forward to reading this one fast, and first.

If you don't know about Dadd, his madness, and his masterpiece, Bohemia Place has a good reproduction, some commentary, links to Queen's tribute, Dadd's complete poem, etc.

This biography page has some interesting stuff, including blaming his madness on smoking in Egypt. Some of the links are broken, but I didn't check them all, yet.

Then back to Chabon.

Ah me, I feel like a Dadaist...

2009-09-18T01:09:00.004+01:00

...it reminds me that I shouldn't trust what I get through da medja.

Fair enough, they spelt my name right (possibly a first in newspapers and tv) and called me a 'circus historian' (which I find hilarious, even if I do actually find that stuff fascinating - I even help run a website about modern circus since I retired from perfoming.)

They put incorrect name checks on Kevin (aerialist) and Marco (riding the Penny Farthing bicycle) - then cut to Le Grand Cirque (much cuter) and some funny stuff with orange balloons that humans can get inside (something I witnessed back at a juggling convention in the early 80s - still funny and novel to the public, of course) - and finished with 'the show will run until 27th September" - without pointing out that NoFit State and their show Tabú (about human fears) does not include comedy balloons (or even the fear of asphyxiation).

That funny, cute bit (for your kids) - they should have said - comes from a show you have missed this time around.

hey ho.

I don't even know why I feel even slightly surprised.

Don't get me wrong, if you want another Cirque du Soleil clone, then Le Grand Cirque probably will suit your family perfectly.

It just misses what NoFit State Circus attempts to offer people (participation)... (I feel tired now, perhaps I'll go lie down).

They've only been working at this for 25 years, perhaps da medja will get it, one day. As well as the main show, Nofit State do community outreach stuff - check out the Parklife blog. Real people, remember them? Parklife - Nofit State's outreach programme..

But anyway - NoFit State's Taboo show runs until September 27th in Cardiff.

You don't get to sit down, but walk around in a club atmosphere with stuff happening all around you. Really, this stuff is aimed at young adults (who probably don't think 'circus' has much to offer them). It works (and wins awards) all over mainland Europe.

In the UK new circus still hasn't trained (or attracted) a suitable audience of grown-ups. One of the reasons for the group dropping the word 'circus' and going for NoFit State©.

You have been warned (surely) that 'the bar is open'.

G'night. (I'm sure the current troupe don't need me as an advocate of 'shows I recommend'.)

Watch us all on tv tonight!

2009-09-17T17:25:00.004+01:00

For those of you in the area (or who can receive ITV Wales) an arts programme called The Wales Show will do a feature on NoFit State this evening at 22:35.

Your humble reporter may even show up, in the guise of a 'circus historian', to put the New Circus concept into context compared and contrasted with the traditional images of circus.

Or hit the cutting room floor, for waffling. :-)

NoFit State in Cardiff Bay

2009-09-10T21:08:00.009+01:00

NoFit State will feature in ITV Wales' "The Wales Show" at 10.35 on Thursday, September 17th 09.

I know this because I went down to see the NoFit State crew today, already set up outside Cardiff's Millennium Centre. I even ended up being interviewed myself - to describe 'New Circus' in the context of the traditional image of the circus - by the charming Frances Donovan.

You can check out a Timeline I made on the Circus Arts Development Agency website (which I work on) - to see that circus has always been an early uptaker (they used gas lighting, then electric lighting), has always incorporated new tricks, stunts and toys (the unicycle developed from the Penny-Farthing bicycle, but BMX stunts began to appear in Archaos back in the 80s), and originally appeared in outdoor ampitheatres and temporary wooden structures before tents became used for touring.

Circus history remains predominantly oral, and some of it should be taken with a pinch of salt (as hype became part of the circus style in the days of Barnum). Daredevil stunts, exotic people and animals, extraordinary visions, exciting live music - these have formed part of what the circus had to offer as it travelled around the globe, but fashions keep changing in what people want to see and experience.

We mostly agree that animals (apart from those great apes, 'the humans', of course!) should no longer feature in shows, and NoFit State doesn't aim so much at 'the family audience' as at young adults (although everyone is still welcome, of course). It offers a 3-dimensional sensurround immersive experience -something you can't entirely appreciate through television - you have to be there!

Don't miss the unique opportunity to see this award winning show!

See previous posts for further details, links and video clips.

Tabú

2009-09-03T01:22:00.004+01:00

Cardiff's own homegrown 'new circus' - now an international touring company - soon appearing at the Millennium Centre for a short run (11 September 2009 - 27 September 2009) - a brief glimpse of the award-winning show

“This is the future of British circus” The Guardian

Tabù
Uploaded by nofitstate. - Arts and animation videos.

NoFit State return in triumph to the Millennium Centre

2009-09-03T00:57:00.003+01:00

You can see what a hive of busy folks can do, to keep you entertained.

NoFit State tent getting erected last year at the Millenium Centre.

The WMC promo for the international touring show

The NoFit State promo

A glimpse of the current show on DailyMotion - not the Hot Chip clip on YouTube...

And yeah, the NoFit State community work carries on as the main show tours...see the link to Parklife in Stockton and the Parklife blog.

Getting silly now

2009-08-29T23:54:00.005+01:00

After enjoying John Sinclair (up in Stourbridge live, but listen to Radio Free Amsterdam) touching on the Beats and Jazz, and Bob D still turning out Theme Time Radio - drawing on all the roots music of the last (say) 8o years - although the 100th edition entitled Goodbye might prove the end of a cycle - I have run out of sensible drug connections and ended up with 'what's legal', a very limited (and limiting) choice of alcohol and nicotine.

Hey ho, walk the dog, and regret nothing.

XM Radio have now (it seems) more or less stopped their free trials (which let me, with random Yahoo addresses, listen to Bob every Wednesday in the UK) and BBC Radio plays Bob repeats (only within the UK) but the run has reached an end point.

Fair enough. Get a life (and start torrenting). The artists have to get paid, I know, but they also need 'airing'.

(blush) OK, XM let me again (7-day free trial), check out Deep Tracks, so superb, as a mix....
Taking the dog out now, to wander the mean streets, and just hum the stuff I'd like to hear for real...

What a Long Strange Trip it's been

2009-08-17T08:27:00.011+01:00

I had real fun leaving work early on a Friday, to make my way (via 4 trains) to Stourbridge to see a genuine 60s hero working with a friend of mine. A showing of the movie TWENTY TO LIFE: THE LIFE & TIMES OF JOHN SINCLAIR (87-minute documentary film by Steve Gbehardt, 2007) then John Sinclair doing his poetry, and DJ Fly mixing musical accompaniment (although I bet that ain't the word for it these days).

Not only did I enjoy the gig itself, but had one of those smooth journeys, as though the universe wanted me to get there, nice and easy-like. The trains went on time, I met Nick outside the gig, we walked into town and bumped into Fly and Janne. After the gig I met up with Jack and Tony, and got whisked away to take tea and talk all night. A little sleep, more tea, then a ride into town on the extraordinary Hankmobile (thanks Hank!) a really fun way to travel, where I immediately met up with Fly and Janne again, then sat with Mr Sinclair for a short while, before strolling to pick up train connections (complete with a guard who advised me of a better route, saving me a couple of hours!) All very smooth. More on this later, gotta go back to work!

Check out John's new book, "It's All Good: a John Sinclair Reader".

His touring website - On The Road.

John's Wiki entry.

DJ Fly Agaric 23 on MySpace

Listen to John’s shows on
Radio Free Amsterdam

Episode #276 of the Radio Show (with DJ Fly Agaric) uploaded at SoundCloud

Fly on MySpace

Berlin and back

2009-07-26T22:27:00.009+01:00

The online study group I belong to meet up once a year, in different places.

Last year in Paris.

This year Tons invited us to meet in Berlin, and we had a fine old time...

My internet connection seems slow to useless at the moment, so I don't intend to upload anything much right now. If you care, you can see some pictures of the Maybe crew in Berlin on Only Maybe.

Jabba the Hutt recommends the Rock 'n Roll Herbege in Berlin!

Fly Fuzz and I stayed at the Rock 'n Roll herbege, which proved an excellent choice for those of us who stay up late, and like to mess around. Highly recommended!

@Gnosis

2009-07-17T01:45:00.003+01:00

I do hope some of you follow @gnosis - one of Bobby Campbell's masterpieces of collaborative work. It gets better all the time...

Bobby scripts this stuff and also does illustrations of his own, of all kinds, for all sorts of output - including covers for my first attempts at making a book.

See post for 7th July

Bard in the Bardo

2009-07-14T16:51:00.003+01:00

I am still experimenting with the webcam on this netbook, and as I have had to do 'serious' voice-over (PA announcements) for the library, recently, I (as ever) gave myself a real project to do - rather than just mess about.

So here's a poem by Louis MacNeice, written in the UK during The Blitz (1944). I found myself born shortly after that, so it always seemed somehow personal (at least to my generation of heavy-metal babies - Hiroshima contaminated the planet while I was still in the womb).

Here's Louis reading his own poem (if you have Real Player).

Poems for Paranoids

2009-07-14T01:30:00.001+01:00

Quentin's message of hope

2009-07-10T03:34:00.001+01:00

If you’re on a tightrope when you first set off you don’t know how much play there is in the rope, but when you get into the middle between the ages of 20 and 40 the thing rocks like mad and it’s too late to go back even to look back.

But if you go on as carefully as you can, you see the other platform and then you just make a dash for it not bothering with what the audience thinks, or waving your arms or looking dangerous, and difficult and prodigious.

What you grab hold of when you get to the other side in fact the edge of your coffin. And you get into it and you lie down and you think, ‘my cuffs are frayed’, ‘I haven’t written to my mother’. And then you think ‘it doesn’t matter because I’m dead’.

And this is a message of hope. It will come to an end. It will come, we cannot be blamed for it and we shall be free.

Quentin Crisp

Infinitely Monkeying

2009-07-07T16:59:00.004+01:00

Have a Little Fun
Make a Little Money
Do a Little Good Christopher Hyatt

I just received a draft of the cover for my recent NaNoWriMo novel, so now I have no excuse to not complete my proof-reading and tweaking and get the finished thing up in my Lulu storefront.
Actually, you could have got the work-in-progress already, warts and all, but now I will try to tidy the whole thing up.

I have spent a little time making small corrections, but have failed to savage it, rip it up and re-write - as all the advice suggest a writer does to a first draft, hey ho. I still quite like the simplicity of the story and style.

I'd rather do another one, and keep going until I get the hang of it.

Even more fun, I don't have to write juvenile novels and shove them in the bottom drawer, as people used to. I can publish it for my own amusement, to learn all the different processes of layout, commissioning covers, and all that.

I have never waited for approval first.

I started juggling to pass the time, rather than go look for a job. Then people stopped to watch me practising, and eventually passed a hat around for me, so then I had a job for a decade.

I'll just keep writing, although I can hear Lou Reed's devastating put-down of an incoherent heckler "If you're a writer, nobody reads you!" But in the modern world of blogs and tweets I don't feel alone in this. Just reminds me of the days of juggling on street corners with busy commuters avoiding my eye, and scurrying past... I still enjoyed myself juggling, even when I didn't get a crowd.

So do if you do it for the fun, even if you don't make any money, you do at least have some fun to show for all the work... Fortunately (or 'like magic') I have found a very creative collaborator, who can do this stuff for me - he's cheap (or rather, I'm poor - I'd pay him more if I could), he's fast, he has fun.

Strange Brew

2009-06-14T03:07:00.003+01:00

You may wonder how an ageing library worker spends his time. Well, one way involves learning how online education works. Of course, as part of the job, he has to roll out staff training, etc – but the best way always seems (to me) to experience the role of student – so currently I find myself doing this course on Chapel Perilous.

Week 4 involves (among other mixed media) the ‘Ode to Joy’ from Beethoven (the first piece of recommended Beethoven I recognised). Of course, with no decorum, I aimed other students at the Beaker version from the Muppets.

Extraordinary to think I got to work with these comedy geniuses just as they decided to work on a ‘serious movie’ like The Dark Crystal – but I actually had Beaker on my hand for a brief sequence in Muppets Take Manhattan (part of my training period) leaning out of a bus going around Trafalgar Square.

That’s when you find out the power of the movies (filming late at night when there is little traffic, they had to negotiate to keep the fountains lit).

Following the link out on YouTube I then remembered us doing a memorial for Robert Anton Wilson at a Maybe Logic get-together in Amsterdam, when we ‘kept the lasagne flying” over the lake in Vondel Park.

And watching that took me to another YouTube upload – a film clip of some of us Star Wars buddies in a bar in Japan – the staff heard we were Star Wars ‘stars’ and that I worked as a puppeteer (on Jabba) so they brought me a rat puppet from behind the bar, to challenge me to bring it to life...

PS: no I didn't write my own Wikipedia entry (or the Wookiepedia entry, where it came from) .

Out and About with Star Wars

2009-05-21T14:17:00.006+01:00

Although still connected to NoFit State (the circus) and working in the library and supporting the circus info website and helping Julie get the holiday cottage project going and writing for my own amusement and figuring out how to publish on Lulu and studying online and learning e-tutoring and web content design and walking the dog and so on - I still (very occasionally) go out to meet some of the Star Wars fans.

At the end of May I will be off to Swansea for the day...

to a Private Universe event.

I am only sorry that I can't take the dog, he does a good Chewbacca...

What's going on?

2009-05-13T00:47:00.007+01:00

For anyone who wondered why this blog went quiet, things have been quite hectic.

Julie has been putting the finishing touches to her latest magnificent project, the cottage in the country.

She has totally transformed it, inside and out, lavishing time money and her artistic eye on every detail. Even renamed it 'Ty Cariad' (something like 'beloved house' in Welsh). I have started a website for Ty Cariad, still in progress.I have never been a DIY person, but even I went up last week, painted the exterior in what I insisted was some kind of yellow, which Julie assures me looks golden in some lights and green in others. It turns out she had chosen 'Churlish Green' just to suit my temperament. :-) Well, maybe. I also varnished the magnificent new porch, made a compost heap, and helped remove an unsightly old tv aerial.

Dandy sits around looking beautiful and decorative, sighing and yawning occasionally at all this human activity that does not involve walking in the beautiful surroundings often enough for his liking. At the end of my day I usually found time for a strenuous trek - or Julie and I would drive to the Nature Reserve for a gentle amble.

And so on. More soon.

You may seem like your own worst enemy

2009-04-27T21:34:00.004+01:00

With a film of The Prisoner on the way, I don't want to comment on 'remakes'.

I guess Zeitgeist comes in here, somewhere - but also the tendency of great art to escape its context and become universally relevant, and evocative.

The Prisoner cycles around - just like Finnegans Wake - the end could equally seem like the beginning.

Anyway... Heeeeeere's Patrick.

Everything that happens will happen today

2009-03-28T22:27:00.004Z

When I went to Norway, to catch Brian Eno at the Punkt 08 festival, he said (at his lecture) that he had been working with David Byrne on a new album.

Well, here it is, available only from this website, in every format you can think of, from MP3 download to Vinyl, CD, etc.

For those who like that sort of thing! David Byrne added words to instrumental tracks that Brian Eno had already written.

I may add more, when I have listened to it all.

Enjoy.

[later addition/edition] - current favourite track "I Feel My Stuff".

Eclectic Reading

2009-03-27T13:27:00.012Z

I have always read widely, and self-employment gave me a lot of time to do it – not just because of working less hours per week than others, but because of all the travelling by public transport. Drivers don’t have that joy, of a train-ride and a book!

Gonzo Poet

Among recent books I enjoyed, I would include Oh Dad! A Search for Robert Mitchum, by Lloyd Robson. Not that I come from the generation where Mitchum was at his peak (one of the only actors who managed the difficult trick of being a man’s man and a woman’s man at the same time. Perhaps Sean Connery also managed it), but I liked him when I saw him.

The book is a gonzo adventure through America (the kind of thing usually done as a tv documentary these days) in search of the places and events in Mitchum’s life – motivated by the fact that Lloyd Robson is a poet (from Wales, indeed) and he discovered (perhaps improbably) that Mitchum was a poet and writer – and that beneath the ‘bad boy’ image lay a wit and intelligence that Bob concealed pretty effectively.

The Great Game

I have also been delving into The Great Game – the battle for central Asia between the Russian and British Empires. I haven’t even read Kipling’s Kim (though it is lying around waiting) but that is the period of time I find intriguing. I mostly don’t do history or war, but my attention got drawn to the subject not only because of simply not understanding what the hell is going on in Afghanistan (for instance) but discovering just how long all this had been going on.

For instance, the UK is full of Free Tibet supporters (and I agree with them) but do they know the Brits fought their way (viciously) into occupying Tibet back in 1904? China is not the only guilty party. Just as the image of China as an opium den is really propaganda, as it was the Brits who flooded the Chinese market with cheap opium (they produced in India)to subjugate the population – and the Boxer Rebellion was in response to this.

So yes, I have always found the hidden history of drugs interesting (and even consumed a few myself) – and particularly the hypocrisy involved – when people who worry about my nicotine and alcohol habits (from a health point of view) can be sipping caffeine with their sugary chocolate cake at the same time, without acknowledging the parallels. Most 'drugs problems' I have heard of involve doctors (the uppers and downers, pick-me-ups and sleepers, Mother's Little Helpers) or alcohol (from hooliganism to wife-beating, from driving accidents to premature death), and yet The War on Drugs remains pointed at the 'illegal drugs' (an ever-shifting border, and not a scientific description).

Policemen on the tv (and in real life) retreat to the pub for a drink when considering how to trap 'drug dealers', like New Tricks or, like Morse with his bottle of wine at home - solitary drinking. In all those home make-over shows they point to the new patio as a place for a nice G&T in the summer, but never 'settling down with a nice spliff'. And they celebrate the completion of the project with champagne, just as we give all our sports stars (!) alcohol as a prize. No wonder the high-speed drivers squirt it all over the crowd, rather than drink it! Drunk at 200 mph? i don't think so. Only Skins and Shameless (of shows I watch)appear to 'normalize' drug use. To describe how things really are is not necessarily to condone them. But the media have trouble separating these, as Noel Gallagher discovered when describing a spliff as normal as having a cup of tea (that's caffeine again, of course, another drug, often taken with sugar, an inert speedy substance without nutritional value).

I wept with laughter when reading Operation Julie, at the repetition of 'real policemen' going to the pub every third page, while trying to catch the acid manufacturers. That great escapade probably led to the absence of really good acid ever since, and its replacement with all kinds of unfortunate concoctions which further contributed to its bad name. Curiously enough, Albert Hofmann, who discovered/invented LSD, lived happily until the age of 102, still taking small doses. But facts don't work as well as myths.

But this time I am not writing about drugs (although, legal at the time, they necessarily appear in the story) but the reconnaissance, espionage, political manoeuvring, etc around the turn of the Nineteenth Century. I first noticed the curious fact the Madame Blavatsky (Russian), Gurdjieff (Armenian/Greek/Russian?) and Aleister Crowley (British) had all, at some time or another, been suspected or accused of espionage in this region. Since then, apart from reading their biographies, I have read The Great Game: the myths and realities of espionage, and am in the middle of Tournament of Shadows, among others.

On a more intriguing note, I read Tim Maroney's edition of HPB's Book of Dzyan, in the intro of which he draws some interesting parallels between sci-fi fantasy writing (so big in the 20th Century, but he references HP Lovecraft) and the strange world models of HP Blavatsky, offered as 'true'.

ESPionage and magiCIAns

I also read the biography of Charles Fort by Jim Steinmeyer (the inventor of illusions, but also an excellent writer – I really enjoyed Hiding the Elephant, and Glorious Deceptions. And yes, I see a strong connection between conjurors and their skills, and espionage. In this murky cross-over world I end up implying some connection between magick of the occult variety, and what people so loosely call ‘the stage variety’. It really upsets some of the esotericists when I imply any connection at all – as if I am implying it is ‘all manipulative tricks’ – where actually I want to point to the area of common ground, hypnosis, belief systems, the unreliability of our perceptions, etc. I battle on. One day I might be able to put it in a way that didn’t upset so many folks. And shamans have always used ‘little tricks’ to draw people into more suggestible states, like many gurus (think Sai Baba and his mysterious ‘ash’ and occasional jewellery, or Geller in his guru phase with ‘teleports and metal-bending, or Blavatsky suspected of chicanery).

If any of the espionage, magic and occult stuff sounds interesting, you will find longer contributions, and further links, from me (the bogus magus) over at Only Maybe - e.g. ESPionage and magCIAns.

If conjuring on its own seems sufficiently interesting, then I gather interesting links on the Intelligence Increase blog.

Fun Stuff

And, just for laughs, I read A Load of Bull by Tim Parfitt, a really hilarious 'Englishman abroad' book about Spain in general, and Madrid in particular. Hilarious!

Just for Laughs - memories of Vaudeville - George Carl

2009-03-22T01:40:00.004Z

When I have a day when I shouldn't have got up, I tend to go for comedy. I ended up doing it for a living (loving) because I couldn't see enough physical comedy in my childhood (no tv, rare films, etc).

10 minutes of George Carl – possibly the greatest clown (in my sense of the word, nothing to do with circuses) with a rather slow audience in Sweden.

A thousand physical gags he could do in any combination of 3 minute spots, 5 minute spots, etc.

It seems like a fairly subdued audience (the jobbing professional) in this 10 minute set (with good quality footage) you can see some of the range, not only of clumsy gags mixed with dexterity (the style I chose to adapt) but with a wonderful Max Wall legs ending (to go with the resemblance in the face).

Here’s a 7 minute set on Johnny Carson, with dozens more variations. A couple of misses (for the jugglers) but more gags per minute than many people achieve in a lifetime – even the magical penetration of the microphone stand (I can live with the buzz on the soundtrack, and this audience seem to really get it!) You get the lot, hat, mike stand, funny legs. His misdirection is worthy of a magician (did you see the microphone go down his trousers? I didn't.

Here’s 6 minutes of lower quality video for Jerry Lewis, and you know some of the gags by now, but he’s storming. And he has a proper vaudeville drummer hitting the highlights. And the audience even notice and appreciate the mike penetration!

OK, OK I stole a couple of gags out his collection of hundreds...but I have no record of any of my live shows (before video phones, and all that). Maybe Reuven Hannah still has footage (he filmed it on roller skates) of a show I did at Riverside Studios, with a genius drummer (we improvised the whole thing for 300 people as I was in a bad nervous state (personal life events) and they carried me through.

And Tim Bat may one day retrieve some low-grade footage of me trying to do my (until then original) juggling act, following a whole evening of juggling acts who had done just about everything (that we knew at the time) already. 11 of us turned up to the convention (from 5 countries) and nowadays you will find several thousand people attending such events.

And finally, a part of the Royal Command Performance (the kind of glimpse I had at the time) of George Carl. If I achieved 1% of the shared fun I can die happy. Peace and humour. Amor et Hilaritas!

Old Dog - New Tricks

2009-03-14T22:42:00.007Z

OK - the new library opened, and we did good!

On Facebook, I started as an avatar (testing the system for work, not wanting to get involved) - and joined as Sid Scribe. He has (in his iLike field) a track from later Pink Floyd (obscured by clouds type film track) called Free Four...

"The memories of a man in his old age...

Are the deeds of a man in his prime -THRUMMMM."

Since then, I joined Facebook for real, and now have linked to heads from the 60s, street performers from the 70s, film folk from the 80s, circus people from the 90s, all my family (more or less) and library co-workers (and other online friends) from the 21st Century. And of course the Maybe Logic crew, but we already have other channels of communication.

Check out our ongoing blog at Only Maybe (just put that in Google to find it), the online magazine we made 14 issues of (followed by a hard copy - ask me for one if you are interested, I still have a few in a box) - or just go to the public bit of the campus for a glimpse.

Life goes on.

I have written two not-great books (just for the hell of it, and as a personal challenge, like a sedentary marathon), but I carry on learning, and may offer you something readable eventually.
I have also dabbled in online publishing, just to see how it works - the things remain full of typos, but I am improving all the time. I'll try to keep it short.

But then again, some people like great epics (who actually reads the whole of The Lord of the Rings? Maybe the folks who read all of Happy Potter?) No problem, we all have our epics. Just as Bill Hicks remains relevant - so does Illuminatus! even if it got written in the 70s.

Predictive text, indeed.

Greetings to all sentient beings...

The room got crowded, but it's kinda fun.

Grandpa Takes a Trip...

2009-03-07T12:24:00.008Z

...Down Memory Lane.

Strange circumstances led me to go to a Sixties Night at the Globe in Cardiff.

I did kinda assume that this would be an opportunity for people to dress up (I know there were Mods and Rockers, and Kings Road chic Mary Quant 'hippies', as well as scruffy Notting Hill 'heads and freaks' like me), but we didn't have one style - we raided the dressing up box, so you might see a completely silver alien chatting to an 18th Century dandy.

Given that people seem to like dressing up as Vicars and Tarts, etc - it did seem likely. Sadly, even in my mildest outfit (mirror waistcoat, sand-dollar on macrame necklace, velvet jacket) I seemed over-dressed. I thought it would look appropriately sedate for a granddad. Hey ho. The only long hair was on the girls.

In spite of incense, and a bubble machine and being handed a bedraggled flower by a young woman it couldn't really feel like the 60s with everyone drinking, and nobody smoking. We didn't have alcohol at UFO, or Middle Earth, or Les Cousins, Bunjies, etc. Not to say we didn't drink, but only in pubs (playing darts in The Pillars of Hercules and drinking Newcastle Brown before going down to Cousins). And although you could get nine months (not just a caution) for possession, you would almost certainly smell hash at an all-nighter...

Still the band - El Goodo - were pretty good (although I never heard any kind of country music until the 70s, when Dylan did Nashville Skyline, and I got to The States and heard the non-redneck versions from The Flying Burritos, New Riders of the Purple Sage and all that) but their extended riff at the end hit the spot - and the light show improved, and I met a few nice folks, so I don't consider it a wasted evening (in fact, for lack of spliff, I wasn't wasted) but maybe a wasted opportunity. And no, I didn't get any acid flashbacks - more's the pity. Peace.

Cardiff avoids disaster

2009-02-09T13:21:00.008Z

I gather the weather remains pretty foul everywhere, but here in Cardiff we may live in a micro-climate.

OK, it's cold and wet, but hardly a threat to life and limb - or any kind of excuse to close schools and stay off work (much though I'd like to right now).

I guess there may be more snow on the way - and no doubt it remains pretty heavy up in the cottage (where Julie and Dandy are right now), but I just got a wet, grey Monday to contend with. Oh, actually the webcam at Pontrhydygroes shows the snow clearing, right now.

These blog entries are drifting from serious Thought for the Day, to a weird bland blend of Facebook and Twitter (and pictures of the dog).

"What RU doing right this moment?"

(typing, of course!)

Broken-down metaphors

Hey ho. I amuse my friends by using car metaphors, when I can't even drive, but I suppose I see

websites as for stick-shift drivers

blogs and forums for people who like automatic (less to know or think about)

Facebook and Twitter, etc simply seem like Dodgems /Bumper cars...great fun, for some, but so limited as to be almost useless for 'transport purposes'. IMHO Although communal picture albums seem fun (you could also try Flickr).

At least on MySpace musicians can easily upload music samples, which I like - and YouTube lets you share vids, etc

But each to their own, of course. I'd hate to sound like a snob, when I hardly devise websites (HGV license?) or write code (racing drivers?) or innovate (world land speed record?)

Metaphors always end up over-stretched, eventually - sigh.

Not quite gone this morning

2009-02-03T13:23:00.004Z

Not as glamorous as by night, but the garden still had snow this morning, and, in spite of the pleading look "can we go out again, can we, can we, can we?" I had to go to work (sigh).

Mooching Pooch

2009-02-03T01:41:00.005Z

Dandy has never seen snow in all his two years...not great pix with my camera battery dying, but it could be gone by morning. This was our midnight walk!

Dropping like flies

2009-01-29T17:13:00.006Z

I had every intention of dropping in here to celebrate W.C.Fields birthday - a favourite fellow juggler, fellow Aquarian, and fellow curmudgeon.

Now I heard that John Martyn died this morning, and I don't feel quite so jolly, although I still want a serious drink, in honour of both of them.

I knew John back in the days when he looked and sounded like an angel. I knew him well enough to know that he was a bit tougher than that, but I was so astounded by his talent that I felt honoured to just sit and roll joints for him, and listen to him play. I never even had the bottle to grab a set of bongos, and try to accompany him (sigh).

It was only a few weeks ago that Davy Graham died - who was the hero to just about all the guitarists at the time - and I met many of them, just from working at Bunjies Coffee Bar, and (more importantly) at Les Cousins Folk and Blues club (the place to be).

I never did show any talent for 'talking music' so I never got really close to them...as they would get bored with words, and start talking through their instruments. I was still pretty happy to just be the tea boy (in both senses of the word).

Anyway. He's gone. And I never got to say thank-you just one more time.

Talking 'bout my generation...

Or rather - I feel like screaming along with Joe Cocker:

You feeling alright?
I'm not feeling that good myself, yeah
Well, you feeling alright?
Hey, I'm not feeling that good myself.

Woah, you feeling alright?
Yeah, I'm not feeling too good myself
Woah, woah, I'm lonely
But I'm not feeling that good myself.

You can turn away
You feeling alright?
I'm not feeling that good myself, I tell you.

Stuff going down

2009-01-21T12:57:00.006Z

Family News
Julie has gone back up to the cottage, but had a near miss with the car on icy roads in the mountains, so all and any good wishes you want to send her would be welcome. She and Dandy survived unhurt but shaken, and it sounded a bit scary to me.

Circus News
Joke Schot had taken some great photos of NoFit State's Tabú show, so Kaskade Juggling Magazine contacted the circus asking for some words to go with them. I hacked some together for them (I used to write regularly for Kaskade in the early days, and worked for the circus way back when, also).

The article is out. I am pleased with it. That link goes to the words, at least, on the review page at the Circus Development Agency website (I do content management there) - because I doubt that it will reduce sales very much for my words to leak out elsewhere. I recommend Kaskade, not just for juggling, but all allied arts throughout Europe (they have a great listings page for events, as well as addresses for all equipment makers, etc. )

You can also find online a rough draft of some footage of one of the NoFit State outreach projects, when the local Community Circus did a show for Swindon Festival. Here on the Ideal Films site.

Library News
I started a blog focussed on my library work (as a library sub-culture is heading towards an ephemeralized online library to compliment the physical buildings, etc.

You can check out Anon the Librarian for that part of my life -as we move into the new 'state-of-the-art library' in the next month or two. I hope to extend the work I did on the NetTrainers course, and with the Council's Moodle/Learning Pool site - becoming less of an IT person, and more aimed at staff and public training...

The Prisoner may have finally escaped, who knows?

2009-01-17T19:43:00.003Z

Very sad to hear that Patrick McGoohan has died at the age of 80.

The Prisoner remains one of the best pieces of tv I ever saw - even though we originally watched it on black and white television(1967 in London) - he was shrewd enough to get it made on film stock in colour, so that it has survived (unlike a lot of tv from the period).

I feel very ambiguous about the attempt to make a film of it. After the shambles that I consider the film version of H2G2 to be. After 'their' significant failure to reproduce The Avengers (another great series of the period) as a modern film.

I'll wait and see, with the stoical patience exemplified by Number 6's view of the world around him, a role model I adopted and continue to employ to this day.

Fool on the Hill

2009-01-05T17:07:00.006Z

It was great to have a visit from A & A - and they saw both a crisp bright day, and then another when it was almost snowing - misty in the valley, sleet, I guess, quite gloomy.

I am a bit gloomy, too, as I had a mild 'waxy ear' so used some drops which obviously softened the wax just enough to go deep into the ear, making me actually deaf. Doh! It really wasn't that bad before, just a slight crackle when I moved my head sometimes.

Now I am only half-tuned into conversations, television and the sounds of nature (good to stay alert with a lively dog, and unknowns everywhere, from sheep to loggers).

One unpleasant side-effectof the deafness is the pounding blood in my ear when walking these steep hills. As it is a little warmer up in the sun, Dandy and I have tended to go up, rather than along the bottom of the valley, and I went to the highest point (308 metres above sea level) I could see for one panoramic view. You can see the Ystwyth valley, the iron age hill fort - Castell Grogwynion - and a farm by the road on the way to Aber. You might want to click on the pic to see it larger (I haven't done anything to the images yet, as battling working on a Mac which does things whole different ways, etc.)

Where the sun don't shine

2009-01-03T16:13:00.004Z

We had a crisp clear morning up here in the hills, so I walked the dog along the sunny ridges, but once you dip into the valleys, where the sun hasn't penetrated, it remains really cold...

Library Angels

2008-12-29T20:17:00.007Z

As a lover of libraries, I found the internet an infinite amount of fun, because it allows the chasing of footnotes and cross-references (previously a leisurely activity, browsing and grazing) into quite a high speed sport. Well, sometimes. Occasionally I still slow down to book speed, carrying cross-references around in my head, or on a USB, or a little white library card...

And when you start hunting specific information it becomes quite a lot trickier, assessing sources.

But still the library angels come to help (those pony-tailed people from Wings of Desire, leaning over the shoulders of the readers at the Berlin library) and in haphazard skimming I come across little gems. Don't ask me how I found this, I forget, but I have always liked Auden - a lucid poet.

The Labyrinth

Anthropos apteros for days
Walked whistling round and round the Maze,
Relying happily upon
His temperament for getting on.

The hundreth time he sighted, though,
A bush he left an hour ago,
He halted where four alleys crossed,
And recognized that he was lost.

"Where am I?" Metaphysics says
No question can be asked unless
It has an answer, so I can
Assume this maze has got a plan.

If theologians are correct,
A Plan implies an Architect:
A God-built maze would be, I'm sure,
The Universe in miniature.

Are data from the world of Sense,
In that case, valid evidence?
What in the universe I know
Can give directions how to go?

All Mathematics would suggest
A steady straight line as the best,
But left and right alternately
Is consonant with History.

Aesthetics, though, believes all Art
Intends to gratify the heart:
Rejecting disciplines like these,
Must I, then, go which way I please?

Such reasoning is only true
If we accept the classic view,
Which we have no right to assert,
According to the Introvert.

His absolute pre-supposition
Is - Man creates his own condition:
This maze was not divinely built,
But is secreted by my guilt.

The centre that I cannot find
Is known to my unconscious Mind;
I have no reason to despair
Because I am already there.

My problem is how not to will;
They move most quickly who stand still;
I'm only lost until I see
I'm lost because I want to be.

If this should fail, perhaps I should,
As certain educators would,
Content myself with the conclusion;
In theory there is no solution.

All statements about what I feel,
Like I-am-lost, are quite unreal:
My knowledge ends where it began;
A hedge is taller than a man."

Anthropos apteros, perplexed
To know which turning to take next,
Looked up and wished he were a bird
To whom such doubts must seem absurd.

WH Auden

Auden at Poetry Connection

apteros = wingless

NoFit State Circus in Mumbai

2008-12-20T16:55:00.006Z

The circus is appearing at the Mood Indigo festival in Mumbai next week.

Article in The Times of India

In the coming year, you can catch them at The Roundhouse, London...

28 MARCH 2009 - 19 APRIL 2009

NoFit State website

I really got the Dark Day Blues

2008-12-18T18:31:00.002Z

Hey ho - the solstice is on its way, and now I walk the dog every evening I will notice the lengthening days much quicker than the average city dweller.

I have so often been the 'bringer-down' or ghost at the feast at this time of year I almost have a role to play as Mr Bah Humbug.

I never have felt particularly against people having fun, but I do think we should attempt it every day of our lives, not just for some narrow season.

Still, everyone claims the excuse of illness these days, nothing is ever their own fault. There's a symptom, a syndrome, a genetic tendency, anything you like, but whatever you suffer from it's not your fault.

So I am going to finally suggest that I get ill and fatigued with S.A.D, and those factors make this time of year stressful for me, because of the 'busyness', socialization and all that.

My irritability and sneering don't arise from bad attitudes, I just feel a bit rundown.

The festival isn't lowbrow (although a house around the corner has a Nativity Scene complete with Mary, Joseph, Jesus, Santa and a Snowman); the shopping and sales aren't a frenzy of consumerism; the family get-togethers are not all miserable; the religion isn't all empty of genuine sympathy for homeless people (who only need a place at the inn) or the sixth of the planetary inhabitants who don't even have fresh water.

No, I am just under the weather. Nothing to worry about. It'll soon pass.

And I wish you all a very merry christmas time!

Another one gone

2008-12-17T14:09:00.003Z

Very sad to hear that Davey Graham has died.

Back when I worked at Les Cousins I saw all the guitar greats of my generation, a privilege I can't even explain.

I recently met someone who was equally into that generation of guitarists - and it reminded me of all those magic moments, hanging out with Roy Harper, John Martin, Bert Jansch, John Renbourne, and on and on - even though I wasn't a musician, just the tea boy.

Davy seemed like the grand master of the group, even though he never was as famous.

Hey, get some quality time online...

2008-12-05T02:12:00.011Z

Anyone (if such a person exists) who looks at this blog even erratically, will know about Bobby Campbell, an artist who I have collaborated with (remotely) for some time.

Mostly (mostly) I have done words and he has done images for short pieces, but he also scripts extended artwork for other people to draw.

So to sample that particular mixture, try the online graphix here @Gnosis where you can read a free comic adventure for the curious of mind (weekly, updated Sundays).

This - drawn by Marcelino Balao III, written by Bobby - a whole different graphic style and magical words, wonderful to behold.

Check it out. Stretch yer mind a little.

[Update 29th December: Bobby has begun contributing a regular-ish Thorsday posting at OM,Dreaming@Wake.

Worth visiting for the Toynbee Tiles alone!]

Ever so 'umble

2008-11-28T15:33:00.005Z

This year the first draft for NaNo came easily, but I intend to give it a bit more time, and really look at re-writing it, editing, etc.

I can already tell (without looking at, or remembering, what I wrote) that this would be a large effort, and I know one has to be able 'to kill one's darlings' (i.e. be ruthless with those favourite phrases that don't fit, or those characters who never went anywhere, and maybe wandered in from a different book, etc) and I still have relatively little grasp of 'page-turning' qualities.

Pulp Fiction in the UK in the 40s would have 12 chapters of about 3000 words, each ending in a climax, apparently. They were short (40,000 words) and aimed at a non-intellectual crowd (cowboys, sci-fi, detective fiction, romance, etc) and hardly feature in reviews of 'literature' at all. That structure (or formula) has worked fine for Dan Brown, for instance, and he's laughing all the way to the bank, about people like me who thought the books a bit thin.

Anyway, I need the practice. I am still working my way towards something between a memo, essay, autobiography, half-conceived at the back of my brain, and fermenting even as I type. After the fermenting comes the distilling, I guess.

I don't kid myself one life is that important. In fact, I first found my feet when looking at the vertiginous nadir picture by Escher (somewhere in Mexico) when I realised that trying to make myself large enough for the world to notice was ludicrous (Pop Idol, and all those other desperate attempts at 'celebrity') as we all remain ants. That picture didn't make me religious, but I saw the market place from above, in just the same way, and realised I needed a little circle of people around me, each willing to help me eat and survive. That's all I needed, not a stadium full of fans, a world-wide audience, etc. And I went out to become a street performer in the markets of Mexico, and never looked back.

I made it, already!

2008-11-18T14:50:00.005Z

I have no idea quite how (or why) I have managed to write 50,000 words in two and a bit weeks, but I have.

Unlike last year, when I battled along, squeezing out the minimum necessary to make it to the end, this year I always knew roughly what I would have to write the next day.

No doubt the thing is still full of loose ends, ideas started and not completed, characters who either need filling in, or removing, more plot tension (people like tension apparently), and all that.

But that's for the editing and re-writing stage.

Last year I didn't even bother with that, as I knew it was merely a personal challenge, and not necessarily for others to read, or care about. It might have proved an interesting insight into what I can do in a panic, but it didn't seem worth the effort to re-package it.

This year I not only set myself a fictional goal, but feel willing to go back and rework it a bit. Not right now, but later on! Maybe I'll make another silly video!

I have to write an article for Kaskade now, and catch up on my Net Trainers' homework, and look after the doggie on my own (with Julie away for a few days) so I'll probably take a rest from the book for a moment.

But I finished it already! Yahoo and Yippee and all that jazz :-)

Someone immediately asked me what it was about.

What are your songs about?’ Bob Dylan was once asked.

‘Oh,’ he said, ‘some of them are about three minutes, some of them are about five minutes, and some of them, believe it or not, are about eleven minutes’.

My book is about 50,000 words...

Bogus takes a break from writing

2008-11-07T23:12:00.003Z

I have amazed myself by getting in front on the writing numbers. This has even left me time to actually explore a little what other people are doing.

Normally, I think of wandering around forums as the almost perfect procrastination tool! It amused me to get a sound bite into the WriMo radio podcast, so I decided to dig out an old webcam, crash my machine with out of day software, Restore (sigh) download something a little newer, and then rattle off a video for the NaNoWriMo video blog corner.
Why not? I learn by doing...never did seem very good at theory.

How good the first attempts come out doesn't bother me much. Well, I died the death when things didn't work in my show, so did lots of rehearsal and practice, but in workshop situations (which I consider trying to write a book in a month as) anything goes. That's the general principle behind it - Go for it, shut down the Inner Critic, just try stuff out.

So I know how bad this appears. Julie told me the lighting makes me look 100, but I was attempting the Magus in the den look. Perhaps I should have adopted an eldritch voice, to, to make it clear. Sorry Julie, I know I don't really look like this, except maybe first thing in the morning with a hangover, feeling my age! With the Keith Richard craggy lines, and all.

Oh, and the howling fan on my elderly PC just swamped the mic, so Brian Eno's Discrete Music is rather too loud. Hey ho, I'd do Take Two if I could be bothered, but this is a month of not looking back, not editing, just do it and move on.

I'll try to improve on it with the next one, maybe take a little time!

Monkey Notes

2008-11-03T20:32:00.008Z

Ah, me, what a hectic day!

Julie and Dandy the dog just went back to the cottage to work on it, so I am a DIY Widower again. :-)

I started my new novel-in-a-month "Infinite Monkeys", so perhaps not having to walk doggie for a bit fits quite well with hammering away at the keyboard.

So far I am ahead of schedule, and still bubbling with ideas, but (like any marathon) I don't kid myself that I won't 'hit the wall' at some point.

Last year something like 100,000 people set out, and at least 15,000 completed their 50,000+ word books in the month. I am using the Bogus persona for this...

I gather even more people have started this year! As well as adults, a lot of young people also go in for this...

I love it, it's a project dear to my heart that people should write and have fun!

Today, I noticed they wanted 'people over 50' to talk on the WriMo radio, so I volunteered, and may get transmitted on Wednesday.

Of course, Universe having a sense of humour, just as I psyched myself up for a Skype interview, the door went, and Calum turned up (bless 'im! - I miss hearing someone singing their heart out in the loft) so I ran up and down the stairs, and then hastily babbled down the phone, to Santa Barbara, for 15 minutes. I have no idea how that will sound...

Rather like writing a hasty novel, with no going back to edit, or doing a re-take...

Spooking the Herd

2008-10-11T16:25:00.007+01:00

A lot of people still seem to believe in money – and therefore seem to think that something dreadful has 'happened to it' recently – as though it resembles the weather, or something outside our control - rather than the behaviour of human herds.

A million pound note sold for a mere £78,000. (This evokes the Mark Twain story)

Our Maybe editor Kent did say “get into gold” in his “Will You Survive the Coming Financial Crash?” and he appears to have been right in predicting that, although (ironically, given that he got the economics right) he didn’t survive it for medical reasons. (sigh)

And hyperinflation wipes everything away (if you think a million pound note improbable).

I still don’t really understand why gold works for people when paper doesn’t, however.

With a very little brain like mine, I find it easier to use a metaphor to understand what people think of as ‘money’.

The casino movie

where rich people gamble, and then run out of ‘cash’ so they put their shirt, their family inheritance, whatever – on the turn of the next card – and end up in debt.

As often as not, to get that IOU back they have to do something for the casino owners that goes against their normal behaviour - or just accept the 'pearl-handled revolver on the terrace'.

Now that’s just debt from bad judgement (selling the family jewels).

You get more of a plot if the casino needs some leverage over someone, so raises their hopes, encourages their gambles, and over-extends their credit (knowing full well that the odds favour them – eventually – winning it all, and ending up with power over the unfortunate gambler). And in such a plot, if luck started to favour the gambler, it seems safe to think that the casino would cheat to make him lose.

Lending money to sub-prime users could just be bad judgment, but it seems far more likely (to me) that it had a hidden agenda. Would you lend your own money to someone unlikely to pay it back? No, neither would I. Of course, if you lend money (at interest) to lots of people, perhaps you thought only a small minority would fall down…covered by the profits from the others. Um. It does seem a good way to scare and enslave people, however.

The only way (back in the movie) for the trapped person to escape the obligation usually involves borrowing from someone else (only temporarily solving the urgency of the problem of meeting a deadline), stealing, or selling something valuable (if you have anything at all left).

As money doesn’t really exist, this is not the same as just a bad crop, or shortage of apples for the year.

The government gives the banks the right to print money, and then the banks lend that ‘magic money’ back to the government at a rate of interest. There’s nothing there but IOUs! Check out my previous entry, or go straight to the excellent video of Money As Debt for a lucid explanation. It'll only take 30-40 minutes of your time, and worth every second!

So long as people 'believe in money', or trust others to eventually ‘pay back’ with something tangible, this imaginary system works. Once you have lost confidence it is hard to get it back.

Writing another, bigger, IOU doesn’t really cut it…I am the casino boss now, and I want my pound of flesh – no more promises, pleadings and bits of paper.

Any house of cards has always seemed a fairly unstable model (although here’s Bryan Berg the world champion card stacker) – except for the magicians’ special-effect version which instantly erects itself for a big finish appearance. And magicians (ever topical) can now produce a card castle made from credit cards! heh heh

So, returning to our unfortunate gambler – now enslaved to whoever owns that IOU (and they do get bought and sold and passed around) – does he know he’s been manipulated? Can he just shrug? Perhaps he can get the obligation written off or forgiven? Not usually out of the kindness of anyone’s heart – more likely for some great favour done (think Pulp Fiction).

After a period of apparent democratisation, and sharing of wealth with the workers, and self-sufficiency (“own your own home!”) – the real wealth (stuff) seems destined to fall back into the hands of the very rich individuals, and the institutions (banks, governments, etc). They don’t really care if the ‘value’ of the property has gone down, as those figures were only as imaginary as the bait of lottery wins anyway. But they do end up with you wage slaves paying them rent again. Lovely!

At this point, my own bets (that I wouldn’t receive a pension, so why invest? That savings would get wiped out, so why save? That borrowing would end up enslaving me, so why borrow against an uncertain future?) seem quite good.

I am rarely more than a couple of hundred pounds away from ZERO – sometimes up, sometimes down, but never very far each way. I have been considered poor by most people’s standards, of course (no credit). Right now I am little better or worse off than during the rest of my life (Freedom, as Janis so rightly pointed out, is just another word for nothing left to lose).

Hyperinflation - in simple terms