http://www.juno.co.uk/ppps/products/352434-01.htm

button

i watched the formula 1 today. bahrain something or another. absurd. the two youthful english bbc commentators, both with large mouths and wearing clashing pink shirts, 'we didn't plan it, if we'd have known we surely would have planned differently,' the other commentator, older, in blue, who struggled for airtime. odd, but not really. robert plant shirking an interview on the grid. eric clapton saying hes the biggest fan of formula 1, also on the grid. the crown prince high fiving all around. everyone approaching him casually. the way the bbc would change the lap indicator, the laps done/laps total thing, before the leader crossed the line. the way the pit crews don't forget to put bolts on and as a consequence, wheels stay on. i realise now that all (or enough) that matters in formula 1 happens behind closed doors, the race is a forgone conclusion, a technicality, shorther than you might think it to last too.






meiburg

now now

i have a twitter now http://twitter.com/thekettle
i do not have a facebook now

i have zizek as a friend, though its most certainly not him. i was drawn.

to not belong anywhere
to have a niche
to belong

swift?

.oh my.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/sci/tech/8013709.stm

So give me a try at describing just how difficult it is
When you kinda love two girls to figure out which one you miss
Stumble away from your stairway with your perfume on my clothes
Well I kinda loved two girls but now I've kinda lost 'em both


avett brothers, theyve taken a long (4 year) crawl, but they have finally and officially cracked my top 10, that of course includes 50. and they're locals!

theres always a need

when you say nothing at all

for some reason i couldn't really think up what to say about 'arms like boulders,' though we don't realise that that is just as significant as saying 'something.' so in other words saying 'nothing' isnt really saying nothing at all.. actually there are a literally a million things about this topic. people levy this charge against seinfeld, that it is a 'show about nothing.' really, how? but i digress, the relationship isn't quite the same. in saying nothing about this song, im really saying so much more. this song has too many disparate parts to make into an inclusive post (something i never accomplish, but strive for nonetheless).

i thought about pointing out how it is a quintessential springsteen song, or rather, more accurately, springsteen-esque; though i soon decided it was most certainly not a quintessential springsteen song, or rather, more accurately, springsteen-esque'.

that was actually the only battle i was having here i realise. a debate over an closed term that is actually open. and an open term that is actually closed.

so what i should have done was to just discuss the quintessential springsteen song and the springsteen-esque, but no one has used the two terms properly over the last thirty years so any attempt would be a botched abortion.

that all being said, what do i really think o fthe song. well i've already told you that.

''and so now---yeah you're looking for sweethearts''-sex
''and you're, you're the kind---but i won't take my body down''-morning after, its not night anymore
''let me tell you---from difference of opinion''-i would not date this girl
''there is a song---yeah there is no snow when you're looking for your answers''--they always change the channel when its on right
''and you're, you're the kind---but i won't take my body down''-oops, he did it again.
''And by the time they get your letter of explanation---Yeah nothing will stop it''-you're too late when you have to explain yourself, he obviously had his mind made up from the first line.(but the song was written post- all this, so he obviously did not have his mind made up.
''And you're, you're the kind to hide your eyes from the sun---You'll have to lay everything down''-bye

the war on drugs

i got this album a months ago, and i didnt like it all. now i do.

sometimes i work.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xq6SBMI_c28

i love the lyrics. i only have 20 minutes so i cant do a proper look over of this track yet, thatll be later today. may even do the whole album if you're lucky and i'm lucky. perhaps i should have just waited until then to even mention this. this is a teaser then.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=grWTcdH7L1w

i might do something with this too.

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/04/18/science/earth/18endanger.html?_r=1&hp


finally. the problem with a neutral civil service is that they couldnt do this 8 years ago.

in scotland we have these things called wind turbines, theyre nice.

to the club.

quickie

right so im on an all nighter and what not but i have to allow myself to be distracted, all to easily i fear.



ive always liked welch and rawlings. and even more so since ive been here. or maybe not more so but i certainly have listened to them a fair few times. its all petit a really, just globalized i suppose. i never thought i would miss barbecue and okra to such an extent, though i should have guessed. that feeling is undoubtedly more pronounced as a consequence of the scottish diet. missing peach season is going to be gutting too i think. the ability to properly isolate myself is another thing, the highlands are great for it, of course even better than what i can do in the southern appalachians, but it could never feel the same. but other than these things its hard to think up much else. living in a city is weird too. its too easy to track peoples comings and goings on the street. i might enjoy that too much, but its a two way street if you know what i mean. im not trying to be subtle here. it really is a two way street.



the new silversun pickups is good stuff, #2 in line for the new zizek. what else

ok back to it. in line with tradition ive pushed the upper limits of the word count 4000 words so far (5000 max) and have yet to start writing about fun stuff yet. i think my book is going to be a sequel to infinite jest or bolano's 2444. but if only in terms of length (scope).

navy seals are pretty good arent they

post-war

its often the case that when i am meant to be writing a paper (on devolution in scotland, if you care) that i get distracted and fall into thinking about something much more pertinent to the human condition.

there is an m ward song called 'post war'. we can listen to it together.




3,4 or 5 days ago i was in bastogne and foy, belgium. site of the battle of the bulge in world war 2. i think the line 'put a dollar in the machine and youll remember when' more or less serves as a thesis for what im going to be talking on, but of course im not guaranteed to finish on this thesis and in fact you should no expect it.

of course there are millions of battlefields on earth, in fact we might make a statement that the entire earth is one and ill let you make that case, so long as you let me focus in on the ardennes singularly (more or less). bastogne is the archetypal war site experience, for a tourist. you go, you see, you leave. it influences you for a day, no more. the violence has been removed entirely. yes there is a large monument, a sherman in the town square, now named mcaullife square after the 101st airbornes leader who refused to surrender the town, uttered NUTS, and tied up the entire german offensive, giving patton time to make it to the front. in fact, basically everything in town is named from a derivation of either macaullife or nuts or screaming eagle and it is tacky, quite. it is possible to make it through the town, looking hard for signs of the battle only to come up with nothing authentic. and this is the world's exposure to one of the most significant battles of the 20th century? yeah basically. you can buy a t-shirt though.

foy is a different story. within sight of bastogne, in the trees south of this hamlet was where easy company, (band of brothers) were stationed. and its here where something surreal happens. we (my belgian friend and i) walked from bastogne towards foy. it took 10 minutes to get there-that is 10 minutes from the city center of bastogne to the front. 10 minutes in any direction would have you reach the front, the germans were really that close in.

we were following a dirt track, created in the war and rarely used since, though it still remains a well worn track to follow. this was what the jeeps used to carry the dead and wounded from the front back to bastogne, and the little supplies that remained from bastogne up to the front. the track ends in the woodline, and its there that a recently erected and rarely visited monument, even given all their attention, to easy company. we went into the treeline, and then everything changed. rows and rows of foxholes, not deep enough to be used today, but at first glance you might not think that they were 55 winters old. i can think of no eerier moment in my life than that first sight of those foxholes. i know i stopped breathing and im not sure when i started again, and in all honesty all i wanted to do then and there was puke. ive been to places, from standing on the steps of the lincoln monument to the corner where jack the ripper cut someone up, and never have i felt as strongly affected as when i stood in those trees.

from out of the other end of the treeline, the hamlet of foy emerges, the company advanced on town as the siege was breaking. we followed the line that they took into the town, a half mile over exposed fields, though i found it impossible to imagine mg42 bullets flying beside me and artillery landing nearly on me, but maybe they were in the same trancelike state that i was in, i wouldnt be able to say.

foy has grown, now maybe it has 15 buildings instead of 9 and the road through it has grown substantially. nonetheless it is all that bastogne is not. every building from that stood in 1944 is still covered, absolutely covered rather, with bullet holes. i couldnt help but think that the man who's footsteps i was following in had been cut down 55 years ago. that feeling was inescapable and has not yet left.

what will happen when those foxholes fill in (50 years? maybe?) and those 9 houses are torn down as bastogne continues to grow? there will quite literally be nothing left. and there really is no answer, no choice but to let it fade, to dig the foxholes would be desecration. to shoot the new buildings would be,well, maybe not such a bad idea... but i digress. my views on monkey wrenching are well known. in essence, bastogne wins. i draw a similar parallel to the american revolution, was it in kings mountain or yorktown that the revolution was won? and what has become of yorktown today? there is a theme park and suburban encroachment. in kings mountain at least you can walk around unhindered.

it frightens me what has departed, and will soon depart our collective consciousness, if i can use that word and get away with it.

did i take a single picture? never, and how could you?





it is true though this. a characterization of war affects me, leads me to the site of the war, and then that actually changes me. existence wins.

hello update whatever have you

hi. ive covered some miles in the last few weeks. currently totaling how many miles exactly i noticed that in 4 days of trying to speak french (poorly) that for the time being my syntax in english has gone to shit. whatever. ill break the trip down, more for my sake than yours.


plane aberdeen to dublin. person sitting next to me (american that i had met 2 weeks prior) was amazed that i was able to point out what we were flying over. i wasnt, because google earth does that to you, and thats the problem (not really). the passion of flight is reduced by google earth, totally. this really is not a problem. dublin airport, like all european airports, is wildly inefficient. like heathrow, it has become too big for itself. the bandaids dont work. not my problem though. dublin has been destroyed. it has become a sick parody of itself. my 1 day with the americans (i had planned my solo trip, to find out 3 americans would be in dublin for the day i was there) was spent trying to avoid them in order to find joyce and beckett haunts and sight glen hansard. i was mildly successful. the one thing that dublin does well is to put these little placards up in places that joyce mentions in ulysses. thats ok. but dublin in itself has become piss. i left there for cork. irish countryside (county Tipperary) is nice, but not the best. not to mention i had that tune 'its a long way to tipperary' stuck in my head, as the meter fit with the train. so that was an interesting train ride.



tired of writing this so ill finish this some other time maybe. the good stuff is in my moleskine anyway, so dont worry.