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My Student Bedroom

Sep 9 2005

So, I am in the same house as last year but this time I have been rele­ga­ted to the sma­llest bedroom. While this may seem bad, the room is actually the war­mest in the house, feels very homely, plush and is just much much nicer.

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My works­pace, com­pu­ter and shel­ves. Note the JS, MySQL and Elec­tro­nics text books.

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My large fit­ted war­drobe and bed­side cor­ner with God­father fra­med poster.

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The house plant in the cor­ner and an open war­drobe that reveals its tech­no­lo­gi­cal glories.

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An Overview

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More of the tele­vi­sion and hou­sed Xbox and PS2.

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Pim­ping my foo­bar, whisky ash tray (I don’t smoke) and iPod.

I abso­lu­tely des­pise cables and their assor­ted mes­si­ness. In these pho­tos you should only see a cou­ple, the hun­dreds of others are quietly and neatly hid­den away from view. The one trai­ling the bot­tom of the war­drobe is the anno­ying net con­nec­tion to the Xbox that wouldn’t fit through the dri­lled hole at the back (inside) where the power enters. It’s nice being able to hide away the TV and con­so­les when they are not being used. The room also has 5.1 surround sound setup with correctly posi­tio­ned spea­kers in cor­ners. The small shelf lying behind the screen makes a nice cosy area for con­nec­tor cables to come through from below (away from view); hou­sing the DVD wri­ter, iPod con­nec­tions, card rea­der and such. The screen also dou­bles as a USB hub. So I am happy.

Finding Art on the High Street

Sep 7 2005

I have recently moved into my stu­dent house for a second year. For my third uni­ver­sity scho­las­tic period I shall be gra­ced with the sma­llest yet plushiest of rooms in the old 3 sto­rey vic­to­rian resi­dence. There’s limi­ted wall space in this beige-magnolia wall and floo­red room and rather than cover the walls in a few tacky well known matrix and kill bill pos­ters I thought I would find some inte­res­ting art, pho­to­graphy or vin­tage film pos­ters. I have a cou­ple of large fra­mes already so today I deci­ded to spend some time in town trying to find something worthy to fill them. I have found plenty of art online that I enjoy; Michael Sowa, Tho­mas Bar­bey, Bran­don Bird, Ron English, Fran­cine Van Hove and assor­ted others. I often find pic­tu­res on the net and think “I would LOVE to have that on my wall”. There’s a good selec­tion of shops that sell art prints and pos­ters in town (Lea­ming­ton Spa / Coventry), Athena being one of them. 

I spent a good 5 hours at the shops today, mainly loo­king for some term-time work. But in my tra­vels I visi­ted and peru­sed every art shop I could find. I star­ted at Athena. There was the usual Vetriano collec­tion, black and white citys­cape pho­to­graphy, some quirky ani­mal pos­ters, blue washed beach sce­nes of John Miller, the odd Dali image and whor­des of black and white photo prints. These prints sho­wed Marilyn Mon­roe, Elvis, Muham­med Ali and John Tra­volta doing their ste­reoty­pi­cal thing. Four ins­pi­ra­tions for the current gene­ra­tion, one has Par­kin­sons, one is a Scien­to­lo­gist, one was over­weight and died from it and the other did nothing but look pretty until she also died. Great. Do I seem bit­ter about this? Yes I am. In every sin­gle shop I went into I was gree­ted with the exact same art prints, pho­tos and four icons. Some­ti­mes there was the odd Beat­les or Al Pacino addi­tion. But in all SEVEN shops I visi­ted there were the same prints and ima­ges. Nothing at all remo­tely inte­res­ting, inte­llec­tual, bri­lliant, beau­ti­ful or ins­pi­ring to me. Seven dif­fe­rent shops run by seven dif­fe­rent com­pa­nies stoc­king exactly the same shit obviously con­trac­ted from the same bulk pro­vi­der. There was not ONE ori­gi­nal image in any of these out­lets. It’s no won­der peo­ple are tur­ning to the Inter­net to purchase all their goods, the high street sells all the same tacky-kitsch stuff con­for­ming to the lowest com­mon deno­mi­na­tor for the unre­fi­ned mas­ses to deco­rate their ste­reoty­pi­cal lounge or bedrooms with.

Before The Blues — The Early American Black Music Scene, Vol. 2

Sep 6 2005
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Title: Before The Blues: The Early Ame­ri­can Black Music Scene, Vol. 2
Artist: Various
Style: “Given that the his­tory of recor­ded blues corres­ponds roughly with that of the record industry, the com­pi­lers of the three-part Before the Blues series may as well be dig­ging around in the Gar­den of Eden for old records. The digi­ti­zed scratches on many of the 69 songs inc­lu­ded say one thing about this music: it’s old! And won­drous. We tend to attri­bute babe-in-the-woods inno­cence to music recor­ded under the shor­te­ning sha­dow of the 19th cen­tury, when William Howard Taft was still wadd­ling about and auto­mo­bi­les and air­pla­nes were novel. But these songs pro­vide evi­dence that bloodshed, subs­tance abuse (mostly drin­kin’ and cokin’), and com­plex human emo­tions were hardly taboo sub­jects for rural America’s musi­cal pio­neers. Volume 2 of the Yazoo triad of CDs is high­ligh­ted by selec­tions from a few august blues­men (Blind Lemon Jef­fer­son, Char­lie Pat­ton) and a bunch of long-forgotten black enter­tai­ners (Geeshie Wiley, Gol­den P. Harris). In tan­dem, they pro­vide a win­dow upon a time when recor­ded music was just fin­ding its foo­ting” — Ste­ven Stol­der
Review: Ama­zon | Yazoo Records | AMG
My Rating: 8/10

“A fas­ci­na­ting and highly enter­tai­ning explo­ra­tion f the early roots of black music in Ame­rica. This pio­nee­ring pro­ject depicts the rich Ame­ri­can musi­cal scene that exis­ted throughout the 1800s with clas­sic per­for­man­ces of rag­time, old modal songs, break­downs, ballads, reli­gious music and more. Fea­tu­red here are great per­for­man­ces by many of the most legen­dary names in Ame­ri­can music his­tory, and this pro­ject follows the evo­lu­tion of blues from its early modal pre­cur­sors and early fun­da­men­ta­list reli­gious music. Exten­sive notes and pho­tos com­mu­ni­cate and exci­ting sense of dis­co­ver, and outs­tan­ding remas­te­red sound qua­lity brings these rare old recor­dings to life.” — Yazoo Records Blurb

Trac­klist:
1. Dallas Rag — Dallas String Band
2. How Long — Frank Sto­kes
3. Skin Game Blues — Peg Leg Howell
4. K.C. Moan — Memphis Jug Band
5. Just A Spoon­ful — Char­ley Jor­dan
6. Dog­gone My Good Luck Soul — Hat­tie Hud­son
7. There’s A Brown Skin Girl Down The Road Somewhere — Eck Rober­tson
8. You’re Going To Leave The Old Home Jim! — Lulu Jack­son
9. Deep Blue Sea Blues — Tommy McC­len­nan
10. Cold Mor­ning Shout — South Street Trio
11. Been Lis­te­ning All The Day — Blind Joe Tag­gart
12. Mis­sis­sippi Bo Wea­vil Blues — Char­lie Pat­ton
13. I’ll Lead A Chris­tian Life — Gol­den P. Harris
14. The Old Folks Star­ted It — Min­nie Wallace
15. Vine Street Drag — Ten­nes­see Cho­co­late Drops
16. It’s Nobody’s Fault But Mine — Blind Willie John­son
17. Last Kind Word Blues — Geeshie Wiley
18. Gui­tar Stomp — Roland & Scott
19. Jack O’Diamond Blues — Blind Lemon Jef­fer­son
20. Reu­ben Oh Reu­ben — Emry Arthur

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Hurricane Fury

Sep 4 2005
I have found the res­ponse to this hurri­cane truly des­pi­ca­ble con­si­de­ring the notice given and the expec­ted devas­ta­tion. Surely someone should have plan­ned a com­prehen­sive relief effort should the worst happen.

I agree with these sta­te­ments and couldn’t word them any bet­ter, so here is a quote from Something Awful:

Rich, myself, Lives­tock, and pro­bably some of the other wri­ters have been watching the hurri­cane after­math with nothing short of dumb shock. There is a disas­ter going on right now and it is man­made. The disas­ter is three stran­gers in Mis­sis­sippi, together because they’re all that’s left and alone in a town without buil­dings, drin­king flood­wa­ter pollu­ted by corp­ses, shit and gaso­line. The disas­ter is a woman wading through waist deep streets hol­ding her daugh­ter and won­de­ring why the trucks won’t stop to get her out of the city. The disas­ter is ICU patients dying one after another because die­sel didn’t flow and order couldn’t be kept. It’s an unin­te­rrup­ted chain of per­so­nal disas­ters. It’s inept triage on a natio­nal scale. It’s unbe­lie­va­ble that this is America.

It’s hard to com­prehend that these repea­ting ima­ges of herds of peo­ple without food or water or medi­cal treat­ment after nearly a week are hap­pe­ning on our soil. They’re our fellow citi­zens and while the poli­ti­cians, direc­tors, plan­ners and gene­rals con­gra­tu­late each other at press con­fe­ren­ces they are suf­fe­ring and dying. I have seen some efforts in the media to pres­sure offi­cials to accept res­pon­si­bi­lity. None have, because in public office the buck stops nowhere. The only per­son I have really seen come close to cap­tu­ring the raw fury of the peo­ple trap­ped in New Orleans or for­got­ten in Mis­sis­sippi and Ala­bama is CNN’s Ander­son Coo­per. He con­fron­ted Democ­ra­tic Sena­tor Mary Lan­drieu on live TV, chi­ding her with a voice crac­king with emo­tion that he couldn’t believe the poli­ti­cians were pat­ting each other on the back over a job well done when he just saw rats eating a woman’s body in the street of Biloxi. On the Inter­net I’ve seen peo­ple bla­tantly pla­cing blame on Bush, FEMA, Con­gress, the Natio­nal Guard, and even Home­land Secu­rity.

Who is res­pon­si­ble? Who should be bla­med? All of them. This is a colos­sal fai­lure of our govern­ment to care for and pro­tect its citi­zenry on every con­cei­va­ble level. The heroes are the men and women on the scene doing their utmost to help those in need. Coast Guard res­cue wor­kers pluc­king peo­ple to safety and Red Cross wor­kers fee­ding peo­ple from emer­gency kitchens are heroes. The man who com­man­dee­red a bus and got peo­ple out of New Orleans when the govern­ment was woe­fully impo­tent is a hero. The woman who smashed the glass on a con­ve­nience store to loot bott­led water for fif­teen kids who should have been abso­lu­tely inun­da­ted with sup­plies by then is a hero. The doc­tors and nur­ses hand-bagging ven­ti­la­tor patients 24 hours a day in dark hos­pi­tals are heroes. In the ine­lo­quent but true words of the Mayor of New Orleans: “Don’t tell me 40,000 peo­ple are coming here. They’re not here. It’s too dog­gone late. Now get off your asses and do something, and let’s fix the big­gest god­damn cri­sis in the his­tory of this country.” CNN was bet­ter pre­pa­red to deal with this disas­ter than FEMA was.

I am asha­med of my country’s govern­ment in a uni­ver­sal way right now. Repu­bli­cans, democ­rats, oppor­tu­nists, it doesn’t mat­ter; they’re all guilty in this situa­tion. In a magi­cal world where jus­tice is actually ser­ved most of these peo­ple would not have jobs in a month or two. Ins­tead the peo­ple without jobs will be the millions who have lost everything and found their govern­ment with its back tur­ned. Remem­ber that peo­ple are still dying because of this incom­pe­tence. Remem­ber that when each and every one of these fools appears on TV for a photo op or com­plains about “pla­cing blame later,” because pla­cing blame now is the only hope Ame­rica has to change the situation.

In the Uni­ted King­dom somebody’s head would be taken for this. A great num­ber of poli­ti­cians would have accep­ted some ounce of res­pon­si­bi­lity and in hind­sight resig­ned.  It dis­gusts me that no one can step up and say “I was wrong” or “I should have done more”, “It is my fault”. The most power­ful country in the world is doo­med if its lea­ders and offi­cials are only going to cover their own asses and not solve the nation’s problems.
From the BBC:


New Orleans cri­sis sha­mes Ame­ri­cans


At the end of an unfor­get­ta­ble week, one broad­cas­ter on Fri­day bit­terly encap­su­la­ted the sense of bur­ning shame and anger that many Ame­ri­can citi­zens are fee­ling.

The only dif­fe­rence bet­ween the chaos of New Orleans and a Third World disas­ter ope­ra­tion, he said, was that a foreign dic­ta­tor would have res­pon­ded better.

It has been a pro­foundly shoc­king expe­rience for many across this vast country who, for the large part, believe the home-spun myth about the invul­ne­ra­bi­lity of the Ame­ri­can Dream.

The party in power in Washing­ton is always happy to con­vey the impres­sion of 50 sta­tes moving for­ward together in social and eco­no­mic har­mony towards a big­ger and bet­ter America.

That is what pre­si­den­tial cam­paig­ning is all about.

But what the devas­ta­ting con­se­quen­ces of Katrina have shown — along with the res­ponse to it — is that for too long now, the fabric of this com­plex and overs­tretched country, espe­cially in sta­tes like Loui­siana and Mis­sis­sippi, has been neglec­ted and ignored.

Borro­wed time

The fit­ting metaphors rela­ting to the New Orleans debacle are almost too nume­rous to mention.

First there was an extraor­di­nary com­pla­cency, mixed together with what see­med like over-reaction, before the storm.

A genui­nely heroic mayor orders a total eva­cua­tion of the city the day before Katrina arri­ves, kno­wing that for deca­des now, New Orleans has been living on borro­wed time.

The Natio­nal Guard and fede­ral emer­gency per­son­nel stay tuc­ked up at home.

The havoc of Katrina had been pre­dic­ted count­less times on a local and fede­ral level — even to the point where it was ack­now­led­ged that tens of thou­sands of the poo­rest resi­dents would not be able to leave the city in advance.

No offi­cial plan was ever put in place for them.

Aban­do­ned to the ele­ments

The famous levees that were breached could have been strengthe­ned and rai­sed at what now seems like a tri­fling cost of a few billion dollars.

The Bush admi­nis­tra­tion, together with Con­gress, cut the bud­gets for flood pro­tec­tion and army engi­neers, while local poli­ti­cians fai­led to gene­rate any enthu­siasm for local tax inc­rea­ses.

New Orleans partied-on just hoping for the best, aban­do­ned by anyone in natio­nal autho­rity who could have put the money into really pro­tec­ting the city.

Meanwhile, the poo­rest were simi­larly aban­do­ned, as the horrif­ying ima­ges and sto­ries from the Super­dome and Con­ven­tion Cen­ter prove.

The truth was sim­ple and appa­rent to all. If jour­na­lists were there with came­ras bea­ming the suf­fe­ring live across Ame­rica, where were the offi­cers and troops?

The neglect that meant it took five days to get water, food, and medi­cal care to thou­sands of mainly orderly African-American citi­zens des­pe­ra­tely shel­te­ring in huge down­town buil­dings of their native city, has been going on his­to­ri­cally, for as long as the ina­de­quate levees have been there.

Divi­ded city

I should make a con­fes­sion at this point: I have been to New Orleans on assign­ment three times in as many years, and I was smit­ten by the Big Easy, with its uni­que charms and temperament.

But behind the ele­gant into­xi­cants of the French Quar­ter, it was clearly a city gro­tes­quely divi­ded on seve­ral levels. It has twice the natio­nal ave­rage poverty rate.

The govern­ment approach to such depri­va­tion loo­ked more like thought­less con­tain­ment than anything else.

The nightly shoo­tings and drugs-related homi­ci­des of recent years poin­ted to a small but vicious cul­ture of lar­gely black-on-black crime that ever­yone knew exis­ted, but no-one see­med to have any real ans­wers for.

Again, no-one wan­ted to pick up the bill or deal with the rea­li­ties of race rela­tions in the 21st Century.

Too often in the so-called “New South”, they still look posi­ti­vely 19th Century.

“Shoot the loo­ters” is good rhe­to­ric, but no las­ting solution.

Uneasy para­dox

It is asto­nishing to me that so many Ame­ri­cans seem shoc­ked by the exis­tence of such con­cen­tra­ted poverty and social neglect in their own country.

In the wor­kout room of the condo where I am currently sta­ying in the affluent LA neigh­bourhood of Santa Monica, an exe­cu­tive and his per­so­nal trai­ner igno­red the anguished tele­vi­sion reports bla­ring above their heads on Fri­day evening.

Either they did not care, or it was somehow too pain­ful to discuss.

When Pre­si­dent Bush told “Good Mor­ning Ame­rica” on Thurs­day mor­ning that nobody could have “anti­ci­pa­ted” the breach of the New Orleans levees, it poin­ted to not only a remote lea­der in denial, but a whole poli­ti­cal class.

The uneasy para­dox which so many live with in this country — of being first-and-foremost rug­ged indi­vi­duals, out to plun­der what they can and paying as little tax as they can get away with, while at the same time belie­ving that Ame­rica is a robust, model society — has reached a cri­sis point this week.

Will there be real invest­ment, or just more buck-passing bet­ween fede­ral agen­cies and states?

The country has to choose whether it wants to rebuild the levees and des­tro­yed com­mu­ni­ties, with no expense spa­red for the future — or once again brush off that res­pon­si­bi­lity, and blame the other guy. 

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