Sunday, December 10, 2006

Black Holes & Revelations

Wanted to make a note of my most favorite band in the world as of today: M U S E.

I have been listeninig to their music since university times but never really appreciated them as a band but after seeing them live in concert 2 weeks ago, I have made up my mind. The concert was mind-blowing. They have an amazing stage presence; Matt Bellamy is very charismatic as a frontman and the showy side of the concert was very impressive without being cheesy. But most importantly the crowd was incredible. From the first song, everybody in the standing area became a single organism and started jumping around. But it wasn't aggressive. In fact, I just let myself go and drifted within the crowd. I have never felt like this before in a concert; the amount of energy was staggering. I realised that MUSE's songs inflate in a concert arena. They envelop the place. They are such good songs to sing-a-long and jump-a-long to. I must have lost 2 kgs in sweat in that concert; my t-shirt was soaking wet when I came out in the end. They are going to give a concert in Wembley Stadium next summer and I plan to be there.

And let's come to the second reason for this post. I have decided to put one of my favorite bands to rest: P L A C E B O. I have watched them live tonight at the same venue Muse played and the difference between two experiences was staggering. I haven't been a huge fan of Placebo's last 2 albums but I listen to them all the same. However, I always end up thinking how much better the songs in their first 2 album are. Anyways they come up to the stage and started playing. I looked around myself for a sign of the same energy that was present in the Muse concert. But it was nowhere to be seen. The crowd was so different this time; it was full of dorks, dopeheads, prepubescent or teenage girls shrieking in the highest possible pitch of their voices, posers, emos, goths etc. No rockers. Most of the people around me spent their times taking pictures, recording the concert on their mobile phones or texting. It was horrible. Nobody moved. I think the main problem with the new songs is that they are very formulaic. Write 3-4 lines and repeat all through the song. When they thankfully played Without You I'm nothing, the song rose majestically above the crap that came before. Another problem is Brian Molko still thinks he is in his early twenties; writing songs about teenager problems, which is embarrassing. He also acts like a diva. When a technical fault brought about a forced break in the concert, they all gone to the backstage, leaving the crowd standing there like we don't matter. I would expect him to take up a microphone and speak to the crowd, see the funny side of it. These things make a live performance special.

Anyways, to wrap up; I didn't want the MUSE concert to end and the band gave the impression that they didn't either; doing a 'bis' twice, playing 3-4 songs each. However, I was glad when the Placebo concert was over, which ended rather abrutly without any bis and the band just walking off the stage.

So long Placebo, thanks for the memories, thanks for the songs I enjoyed listening to from bootleg bands in tiny, smoky bars. And hail Muse; the band that rocks my world and makes me feel alive.

Sunday, November 12, 2006

British Neo-Cons

A couple of weeks back Matthew Paris wrote an excellent article on his column at The Times. In it, he criticized the neo-cons in Britain and their shifting attitude now that it's clear that the Iraq war was a huge mistake. The article says that the British neo-cons latest spin is blaming Americans for the botch up, and it's true. After reading the article, I thought about the recent speeches and press meetings hold by different members of the Britisih Parliament and sometimes even by the members of the British Army and if you listen carefully you can notice a sentence there or a word here, constructing a rhetoric which aims to tell people "if you want someone to blame, don't blame us".

http://www.timesonline.co.uk/article/0,,1065-2414249,00.html

Some other thoughts on Japan

Another post about Japan and certainly not the last. Not while my fascination with the country continues like this. However, this one is a bit different because I'm posting some other person's words on Japan. He summarizes my exact thoughts brilliantly so thought would pay him tribute.

He is Giles Coren, a columnist at The Times and the below excerpt is taken from his 28th October 2006 article, in which the main subject is obesity. http://www.timesonline.co.uk/article/0,,10653-2425205,00.html


"And another thing: I spent the first four days of this week in Tokyo, and if pollution makes you fat then why, in a city so polluted that a good proportion of the workforce feels compelled to walk the streets in face masks, did I not see a single person even as chubby as me? I went, in a bound, from being the thinnest man in London to the fattest man in Tokyo.
Indeed, after a couple of days among these beautifully dressed, impeccably polite and helpful, slim and well-groomed people, I had almost forgotten what a race of fat, feckless scruffs my own compatriots have become — until I caught sight, on the third morning, of a vast-arsed European male in shorts and trainers galumphing wheezily up the street towards me, looking for all the world like a giant toddler.
In Japan, only schoolchildren wear short trousers. Once past 10 they dress, as we used to in Britain, like adults, in well-fitting, modest clothes and lace-up shoes. Why did the flabby tourist not have the decency to identify the cultural inaptness of his appearance and modify it with more suitable clothing, or stay at home?
An even heftier reminder of the crisis in Britain came at Tokyo airport when I was checking in, where three Englishmen of 18 stone each or more stood in front of me, their feet wide apart in that stability-maintaining stance to which the morbidly obese resort, wearing the first tracksuits I had seen since I arrived (for I had attended no athletics meetings) and clutching vast Starbucks tubs of warm frothy milk drinks, just like mother used to express. This tubby triumvirate looked not like toddlers, but bona fide babies."


By the way, I myself unfortunately committed the above crime of going around in shorts in Japan, albeit a bit more gracefully than the said-European male, I'd think.

Sunday, November 05, 2006

Alien in Japan - Part III - Conclusion

What was my impression of Japan at the end of the trip? I have always travelled to West for tourism, France, Italy, Germany. So my first time in an Eastern country was bound to be very different. And of course I had certain ideas about Japan. But the reality I found was like nothing else. I sincerely think that Japan is at least 10 years ahead of Western countries on areas like public services and city planning. Not to mention technological advances. The most basic example; the train system in Japan was jaw-droppingly impressive to me. No delays, clean carriages with air conditioning, everything designed with a durable simplicity in mind. And it works so smooth. Travelling on Shinkansen was a revelation and it's a 10-year-old system. The difference was made more obvious on my return to London; there was no underground trains from Heathrow and people were expected to take buses to the next station. Thinking Heathrow express, which is supposed to be a fast train to the centre of London at a premium ticket price, would be a better solution was also proved wrong when I realised that those trains were running with 10 minute delays as well. Maybe this sound like nitpicking but I really felt dismayed at the time- actually I still do.

Another major difference; the people. Westerners, including myself, blame Japanese of being cold and distance. Even insincere. However, I also think that this is not entirely correct. It's true that although they are almost always polite, it's a rather impersonal politeness. They are not being polite for you but for themselves. But it still makes a huge difference. In summary, I found with my tourist eyes the Japanese people charming and civilized. This, however, is a sentimental view. I cannot fully explain this. But a small thing like not having people playing loud music on their mobile phones inside the train carriages was enough to impress me.

However, there is one very important point. The attitude of Japanese people towards foreigners changes drastically if you speak Japanese. Because Aysun speaks Japanese rather fluently, she was my point of contact with Japanese people. We would go into a shop together and the moment they realised she could speak Japanese, I would be ignored. Aysun would become the point of attention. I would only register if Aysun referred to me during the conversation, which is obviously not very polite. But strange at the same time. They get really nervous if they think they will need to try to speak English and it comes as a real relief if they don't have to. Also, I found it rather funny that the only tourist they could think of is Americans. In London, I got mistaken for being Italian, Spanish or Greek but in Japan there is only one option.

Shouldn't forget to mention about the food. Himm, the food. OK, I like sushi. No problem. But do I like it that much to eat everyday for 2 weeks? I found out the answer is no. After the novelty of the first a couple of days worn off, I started to long for a bit of western style food. Breakfasts in particular become a bit problematic. Eating a tuna rice ball for breakfast got some getting used to. OK, it's virtually fat free and very healthy but after a while I was looking for croissants and toasted sandwiches. On the contrary, dinner time was easier - I don't mind sushi or noodles at that time. I had one particularly weird eating experience in Shibuya. A friend of Aysun's took us to a sushi bar for lunch. There was a queue outside the place, a good sign. However, we soon realised that the queue continues inside the restaurant as well. In fact, the queue is part of the experience. You do the chatting during this time, waiting for your place at the bar. And when you sit down to eat, there is only minimal talking because you cannot stay more than half an hour in the restaurant due to it being very popular. So you eat as much as you can and if any time is left you talk a bit and then you leave. However, I have to admit that the sushi was extraordinary - extremely fresh and done on the spot so you don't leave the place unsatisfied. However, coming back to the health issue, there is no denying that Japanese cuisine is better than the Western ones. Low fat, low calorie and fish are the best thing you can eat. Have to admit that I have grown rather fond of boiled rice myself.

As a result, my first impressions of Japan were all good. I have even taken a decision to make an effort to learn more about the culture. It's a welcome change from the years somewhat forced Western culture. Also should promise myself another Tokyo trip. 3 days was not enough for that city.

Alien in Japan - Part II

OK part two.....

Flew to Okinawa on a plane covered with the pictures of Pokemon - with a huge profile of Pikachu on its tail. Okinawa was a strange place. It was Aysun's first time there as well so now both of us were tourists for the first time. We found it strange because it didn't feel like a part of Japan. OK it's an island off the coast of Japan so it's not a part of the country in a literal sense but the way of life, we thought, was different as well. We were going to stay in a hostel in Naha for the first night so again left the luggage in our room and went out to explore the place. Although it's the capital of Okinawa, it's a rather small touristic town. Little note about Okinawa; it used to be a separate kingdom before becoming a part of Japan so this could be one of the reasons why we found it different. Naha basically has one main street - Kokusai Dori or International str. - with shops and restaurants lining both sides. After going the length of this road we decided to go to the public beach to enjoy the sun and the sea. However, we found out that this wasn't going to be as easy as we thought. It took as more than an hour, asking several people directions and quite a lot of walking to get to the public beach. And it was extraordinary. I think that beach is unique in the world. There cannot be another beach in the world with a view of a highway overpass. When you are lying on the beach, you are watching trucks and cars go by over the sea. Spent quite a bit of time to raise Aysun's diminished spirits due to disappointment and exhaustion as she was expecting a prettier picture. Still, managed to swim and lie in the sun for a bit. The next day got onto the bus to go to the rather luxurious hotel we were going to stay for 2 nights. It was going to be a change after hostels. One other important information about Okinawa; there is a rather large American presence on the island as they have a couple of military bases. Hence, the reason for the steak houses. However, from what Aysun told me I understand that the local people is not too fond of the Americans. The hotel was rather good; standard facilities, swimming pools, a nice beach, a rather big chapel for weddings etc. However, when we went down to the beach to swim we realised something peculiar. The water was extremely shallow; after walking 500 m it was still at my knees. Very disappointing. So spent the day sunbathing. But in the afternoon, Aysun went to swim and found out to great surprise that now the water is up to her waist after a couple of steps. Aha - tide. All in all a relaxing day. The first holi-day; just sea-sand and sun. No sightseeing, no walking, no rushing around. Which all come back the next day as we decided to go to a nearby island connected to Okinawa. This again required a bit of effort to organize; which bus to take, where to get off etc. But in the end, it paid off because the beach we found was beautiful. Much better than the one back at the hotel. Clear water, white sand, less people. And sunburnt. The trip back was interesting - never thought I would have my first hitchhike experience in Japan. Ended the day with a Korean barbecue. Next day we had a plane to Fukuoka. We stayed just one day in Fukuoka but the place left a lasting impression on me. Fukuoka had a different vibe to it. The riverside, for example, was very colourful and entertaining with bars and street stalls. Ah, the street stalls. Hundreds of them. Salary men sitting on stools eating noodles, drinking sake. Drunk salary men playing catch-the-fish. This is a really strange game; in a big bowl of water there are live fish swimming around and you try to catch them without a bait. If you succeed, the stall owner cooks the fish for you to eat. Also have to mention the hostel we stayed in Fukuoka. It was a Ryokan; an old Japanese house - the kind you expect men and women to dress in kimonos. It was beautiful. It definitely was one of the reasons why I liked Fukuoka that much. Oh, one other reason was the Fukuoka airport. It's 10 minutes away from the city centre by metro. Probably, the most convenient airport in the world. It was really difficult to leave Aysun and Japan the next morning. She is a very dear friend of mine and it was a joy spending 2 crazy weeks with her, travelling through Japan. I also have grown fond of Japan; it's strange ways and charming people. However, London was calling me like the sound of an alarm clock waking you up from a lovely dream. It was time to go back to reality.

Saturday, November 04, 2006

Alien in Japan - Part I

OK rewind back to the beginning of September.

I have been meaning to write about this but I've been lazy again. Yes, beginning of September went to Japan for two weeks. I can easily say it was the trip of my life.

Met with Aysun first time in 2 years at the airport. She was staying at Yamaguchi. She kept on saying how I'm going to feel jetlagged the next day and contrary to her expectations I woke up at a respectable time and we headed to Shimonoseki, where we rode bicycle all day, ate lovely sushi at night and I met her friend Eri. Second day she took me to her kendo training - at 6 o'clock in the morning. Completely amazed by the whole training session. It was held in a traditional Japanese training house with wooden floors. At the end of the training, a 'sword' master demonstrated to us the basic moves of Japanese sword technique. The man was easily in his 70s but in excellent physical condition. Difficult not to be impressed. The rest of the day spent in Yamaguchi and ended with a dinner in a lovely Indonesian restaurant with a couple of Aysun's friends – Gerry, Tomoko, Heki and Makiko. The next day left for Hiroshima and continued the journey, visiting popular touristic destinations such as Miyajima, Osaka, Nara (Todaiji) and Kyoto. Arrived at Tokyo on Friday night. Aysun was tired so left her at the hostel and went out to go to ‘famous’ Roppongi in order to make the most of the time I have. Took some time to find out how to go there but managed in the end. Didn't like what I found. Roppongi is full of Westerners. Not what I am looking for. I wanted to see how Japanese people enjoy themselves. After an hour walking through the streets of Roppongi headed back to the hostel and called it a day. I didn't enjoy my first hostel experience too much; trying to sleep in a dormitory brings one major problem. People come in and go out of the room almost any time of the day and night, making it very difficult to sleep. The next day visited some of the touristic spots of Tokyo and took the river tour, which was not very impressive as there isn't anything to see along the riverbank – contrary to London. At night, on the insistence of Aysun went to a bar called Castillo in Roppongi. To my dismay it was a bar with mainly Westerner clientele; English, Australians and Germans. Almost all middle aged. Took quite a bit of time to start enjoying myself but managed to dance a little bit thanks mainly to 4 bottles of beer. All in all not too bad. Next day Shibuya, Ueno park and Harajuku. All of them are amazing places – the amount of people n Shibuya, the crazy rock bands at the Ueno park. But especially Harajuku; with its dressed up girls and boys and crazy little shops. Had my strangest experience of my life that night by doing karaoke for 7 HOURS. It was unreal. Holed up in a room with 3 of Aysun's friends (Vicky, Gunner, Franz) and sang songs from 10 in the night till 5 in the morning. There is nothing like it. The last day went rather idly by, walking the streets of Tokyo, having dinner in a lovely izakaya, chatting to the Japanese couple next to us. Charming people Japanese. Ended the day, rather ironically, in the Starbucks looking over to the Shibuya Square, watching the masses cross the road and huge screens on the buildings blink at us, changing colours all the while. I felt that I am going to miss Tokyo. Early next morning went to the airport for our plane to Okinawa.

Eleanor Rigby

Fireworks are going off outside my window. Today is the Bonfire Day. Gunpowder plot and Treason. Guy Fawkes. The rest... I've been to the big fireworks show at Alexandra Palace this time last year. Difficult tot believe it's been a year. This is one of the problems I have with London. Time. It's too fast here. It's disorienting. At least to me. I'm still in disbelief that 4 years have passed since I came here. I only realise the passage of time on days like this. Bonfire night, Easter, New Year's, the day we take the clocks back. It's a very different type of living from the one I had back in my own country. There the time was slower. Or was it because I was younger? A carefree university student...And now an office employee working from 8 till 6. I don't particularly dislike my job but it's just so different from the university life. I still need time for adapting. Or maybe I shouldn't adapt. In fact I very much like to keep some of that spirit I had back then. I think it's a good thing to keep the door ajar instead of fully closed.

Monday, October 30, 2006

http://www.martimusic.net/history.htm

For all the journeys at the end of the night
For all the journeys to the center of the heart
If you believe wallpapers in motel rooms are secret maps
For sharing a dream together before the light tilts out

For All the love letters sent at the wrong time
For All the love letters sent at the right time
For All the love letters arrived when it’s too late
For all the trapeze artists
For all the waitress or waiters that we secretely adore
And All the guys with twitches
All the beat and broken bones
And all the cabarets in europe or at least the smell of it

For all the girls in pantyhose
For the head of my father
Because Chet Baker played better with no teeth

And Celine made big mistakes but wrote about life like no one
And so did Bukowski while hearing a termite with a banjo
Because when Freud and Jung were in the same room they say you could see things flying
If you believe all the rusts glitters in time
If you feel alive when you see your soulmate smiling
If your lovers sometimes has been sunday drivers of your heart

If you believe sooner or later the devil will sell all the souls he owns back because he finds them boring
If you buy things from her past
If you wish you had a time travelling machine chance so you could see her as a child
If you think a skeleton can hide a closet
If you are wise most of the times only when you sleep
Because nothing is really under control

Saturday, June 17, 2006

Lost

Another one of my lost days...A day when I don't know when it's started and when it's ended. Dozed off at 2.00am in my clothes on my bed while watching TV. Woke up at 4.00am, terribly disoriented and uncomfortable. Got into the bed again after changing clothes. Don't know when .00morning came. Can't remember when I woke up again ... 9.00 ... 10.00 I think it was 10.00 because I turned on the TV again and troops parade for the Queen's 80th birthday was just starting. First thought maybe I should go down there and watch it and then quickly forgot about it and turned off. Slapped up some breakfast at 12.00 .. or 13.00 .. Was planning to go out to shops to do some shopping for my summer holidays but postponed it to tomorrow. Downloaded some comics from the Net and read them to pass time. Checked what's playing at the cinemas. Around 15.00 got sleepy again and told myself that I'll just take a short nap and catch a film at 18.00 matinee. Woke up at 18.15. Did rounds of TV and PC. At 22.00 thought maybe I should get out and eat something. Terrible headache sets in. 23.00 came back and start writing. ..........

Saturday, May 13, 2006

Frank Sinatra - If You Go Away


Lyrics (J.Brel, R.McKuen)
[Recorded February 20, 1969, Hollywood]


If you go away on this summer day,
Then you might as well take the sun away;
All the birds that flew in the summer sky,
When our love was new and our hearts were high;
When the day was young and the night was long,
And the moon stood still for the night bird's song.

If you go away, if you go away, if you go away.

But if you stay, I'll make you a day
Like no day has been, or will be again;
We'll sail the sun, we'll ride on the rain,
We'll talk to the trees and worship the wind.
Then if you go, I'll understand,
Leave me just enough love to fill up my hand,
If you go away, if you go away, if you go away.

If you go, as I know you will, you must tell the world to stop
turning
Till you return again, if you ever do, for what good is love
without loving you,
Can I tell you now, as you turn to go, I'll be dying slowly till
the next hello,
If you go away, if you go away, if you go away.

But if you stay, I'll make you a night
Like no night has been, or will be again.
I'll sail on your smile, I'll ride on your touch,
I'll talk to your eyes that I love so much.
But if you go, go, I won't cry,
Though the good is gone from the word goodbye,
If you go away, if you go away, if you go away.

If you go away, as I know you must,
There'll be nothing left in the world to trust,
Just an empty room, full of empty space,
Like the empty look I see on your face.

I'd have been the shadow of your shadow
If I thought it might have kept me by your side.
If you go away, if you go away, if you go away.

Miscellany

Better use this motivation to put a couple of other things into writing as well. This post will be a bit like a news bulletin.

** A couple of months ago I was watching TV and there was this program on, called Worlds Funniest Animals or something like that. In it, they told the story of a swan in America. Apparently, the poor animal has fallen in love with an inanimate swan, which is simply a pedal boat with the shape of a swan. The things is almost 5 times bigger than the animal but because it looks absolutely like a very beautiful swan, he fell in love with it all the same. They show him following the boat everywhere on the lake and the shore. But then the management decides to take the boat away to put in storage. And he first waits by it near the trailer it's put on and then when the trailer pulls away, he starts running after it, crying this awful wail like sound. According to the carers in the park, he stopped eating and cried constantly after the boat swan was taken away.

I don't know if this is a made up or a genuine story but the footage was heart-wrnching. You feel both sorry and amazed at the love of a simple swan. It's even possible to draw a similar line for human romances; especially for a certin kind, the one-sided love. You love this person and him/her starts to grow in your eyes, he/she becomes something mythical. Although, all the while, the person is completely unaware of your affections, it doesn't bother you. Just seeing them, being near them, talking to them makes you happy.

Maybe the swan knew he won't ever be able to get anything back from his most darling love.

** One other thing I saw in the press a while back reads like this: " Faulty satnav system directs drivers to a cliff drop at the village of Crackpot." This is both a hilarious and unsettling piece of news. Hilarious because I'd like to see the face of the £30,000 Lexus driver when his precious car tried to kill him. But this is also unsettling because it just shows how much control of our life we have surrendered into the hands of electronic machines without thinking about the masters of these mechanical slaves and what'd happen if these masters became hostile one day.

** Lastly, a small anecdote. I was on a train to London. There was this skinny,young guy, wearing his trousers in that annoying fashion, looking all business and hip. So this guy gets up and goes to the loo, living his bag on the seat next to his. Then this Spanish/Mexican couple comes up the aisle, looks around, sees the seat empty, takes the bag up, squeezes it into the overhead storage and promptly nestles into the seats without batting an eyelid. They are cooing to each other in Spanish when the 'hip' guy comes back. He looks around first, probably thinking he is in the wrong wagon or that he passed his seat. Anyways at last he realises that his seat has been overtaken. But what does he do? Does he politely informs the couple that they are sitting in his seat? NO. Does he pick his bag and sit onto the empty seat behind, shaking his seat? NO. HE PICKS HIS BAG UP, APOLOGIZING ALL THE TIME TO THE COUPLE AND GOES TO THE OTHER WAGON. How spineless can you be? I was completely amazed by both the shamelessness of the couple but more by the disgusting meekness of the hip guy.

End.

Who is the real stranger?

I have tons of stuff to write about but they all look trivial in my mind's eye compared to a revelation I come to today.

As a legal alien in a foreign country, the biggest continuing problem of mine was loneliness. I have for varying reasons failed to make lasting friends or more intimate acquaintances during my time here. Of course I know people, people know me, once in a while we get together, speak about non-offending things and go our homes. I also had single-serving friends as Tyler names them - met in a dinner, cocktail, conference, party, but never saw them again. Back in the home country I had/have the best of friends; I laughed, cried, danced, drunk, ate, drunk, talked and talked with them. They are absolutely great and I'm grateful that they are my friends. Anyway, so coming from that to the current situation was like suddenly losing the ground under your feet. But today I realised that maybe I'm actually not alone in my loneliness.

Today I learnt that the husband of a couple I'm friends with has been cheating on his wife and the wife opens this secret, crying over the phone, to a person she has only been knowing for 3 years, who is now in another country. What's extraordinary about this? This couple has been living in London for 20 years. How alone and desperate you must be that you don't have a single person in the city you live in to discuss such an important issue with? I felt genuinely sorry for her - but not pity, I think showing pity is a very patronizing behaviour. I felt sorry because she is a sweet, intelligent, hard-working woman and doesn't deserve this (who does?).

Anyways then I realised that I know some other awkward examples. There are these two guys who are my time-to-time friends. They share a very nice house together. They both have been living in London for 7-8 years. Both is very bright, well-educated and nice guys. I'm not sure of all the details but I believe one of them made a bogus marriage to stay in this country and the other's marriage became a bogus one after the wife moved back to the home country after 6 months. OK both of them still have friends and they go out and have a good time but it seems there is a core in them suffering from the same lonely feeling. (Maybe I'm just trying to console myself*sigh*)



It's like you never stop being an alien. You change your skin, change your hair, your clothes, your voice but you can't change inside. You read the same books, you listen to same songs, watch the same things, laugh at the same jokes, feel bad about the same things as the people around you. But maybe these 'people around', the locals, doesn't want you to forget you're an alien by constantly referring to the country you came from in their conversations with you; sometimes subtly sometimes bluntly. Maybe they fear that if the aliens stop being alien, they'll feel alienated in their own country. So they try to keep you uneasy; even the most well meaning, most friendly of them.
Or maybe I am just a social cripple, lacking both the skills and the drive to meet people.

As an author says: "Who is the real stranger-the person who lives in a country but knows he/she belongs to another or the person who is not only a stranger in his/her own country but also who doesn't have another place to belong?"




Sunday, April 09, 2006

Friday, April 07, 2006

386DX

Ahhh at last I managed to find some time. I have quite a few things line up to write about but everything in its own time. Let's go.

A couple of weeks back I went to a concert-slash-club night at the Royal Festival Hall. The headlining act was Ladytron; an electro-pop band from London, which is doing pretty good at the moment. There were other acts playing in the foyer and the concert halls all through the night. But one of them just mesmerised me. I was absolutely dumbstruck by the performance of the 'band' called 386DX. The 'band' is made up of a man and a PC; yes, a 386 Dx PC with 4MB RAM and 40MB hard-disk, running on Windows 3.1. The guy was apparently originally a Russian street musician but now he is somewhat famous with his act.

And the act is this; the guy programmed some of the most popular rock,pop and metal songs in midi and uses text-to-speech software for the lyrics. So during the concert he simply uses a projector as a screen and runs songs. Then, he very awkwardly uses a keyboard in a way resembling a mix between a guitar and keyboard to que riffs and etc. However, the star of the show is definitely the PC, 'singing' the songs in a flat, monotonus and otherworldy voice, which is completely devoid of any feeling whatsoever. Yes, it's so bad it's actually compelling.

Now, I can't really explain how I felt watching this performance. I felt sad, excited, afraid, angry, happy, amazed. Why you might ask? For the answer just download "Smells like teen spirit" cover from their website and listen at full volume. It's so weird. I had felt sad because listening to the song I remembered how Kurt Cobain sings it; with pain, anger and rebellion in his voice. But this version is just like a terrifying prophecy. Think about it; if a Russian guy with a crap PC can do this, we might be listening to synthetic singers and bands in a decade time. Singing the songs governments or corporates think are appropriate. Mellow, nonconfrontational, meaningless songs with sickeningly catchy choruses so that we won't be able to foregt them. Am I being paranoid? Maybe. But I think it's already happenning. A couple of examples; Gorillaz, Coldplay, all the girl bands and boybands etc. And this is coming from a guy who loves Gorillaz and sings along to Yellow or Trouble whenever they come on. But I long for unconformity; I want rock stars behaving like rock stars. I want them to do the things I can't do or say the things I can't say. I don't want them to be vegetarians with healthy monogamous relationships and uninteresting lifes. I want them to wreak havoc everywhere they go. I want them to do drugs, have sex with all the groupies, drive cars into swimming pools, jump off stages, smash speakers with their guitars. Where has all this gone? Why all we are getting is fancy light shows, fireworks, giant screens, security fences, CCTV cameras, orderly proceedings and singers with castrato voices? Why are the bands from my mum's youth more rock'n'roll then the bands of today?

I was going to do a separate post but I decided to mention this news item at the end of this post as seems more appropriate. During the week, I read in Metro (the free newspaper for commuters) that a guy was arrested and walked off a plane because he was listening to Clash and Led Zeppelin on the way to the airport. Apparently, the cab he was in had a iPod socket and he decideed to play some music, he played a couple pop songs and the cabbie seemed to like his chocies. Then, first he played London Calling - by Clash, and which the cabbie didn't like - followed by the Immigrant Song by Led Zep - which, unbelievably, the cabbie didn't like either. Afterwards, the cab driver reported the guy to the police after dropping him off at the airport. But what was the reason you may ask? Both songs are include lyrics which can be interpreted as war cries or rebellion against the state so the cabbie thought, the guy is a terrorist and that he will blow up the plane. I wonder if the bands of today will have an effect like this in 30-40 years time - if anybody remembers them that is. However, I think the most stupid point in this story is that the police actually took him seriously. Oh I forgot to mention that the guy that got arrested had colored skin - small detail, I suppose.


Friday, March 17, 2006

Wednesday, March 15, 2006

HATE MODERN


As a mid-week update and basically for the lack of anything else good to write about (and laziness), I'm posting one of my earlier articles which was going to be the first in a series headlined "HATE MODERN" but got stuck on my forgotten geocities website. The joys of self-gratification! (This posting will also uncannily resemble those cooking programs where the chef says something in the lines of "You go on toiling on that souffle for another 3 hours but, here, I have one I made earlier".) Enjoy... I order you!! -------------------------------------------------------
I was reading the Times' daily supplement T2 the other day and the feature article in it was about people (well mainly Americans) who got together for a Lord of the Rings convention. I have to make something clear first; I love the books. I find them highly entertaining, intellectual and original. But I'd never consider dressing up as Gandalf or Aragorn or any other character from the books and pretend that I'm an elf or a hobbit. It could have been understandable if the people who does dress up in this ridiculous clothes do so in order to have a laugh. But no; instead they put on curly wigs, hobbit feet and fake beards for far higher purposes than we, ordinary folk, can ever imagine. They do so because they love the environment, the animals and all the fellow human beings. One of them blurts out the reason for her looking like an extra from the movies as this: "The elves are so pure and they care about the environment, which humans have forgotten because they are so busy with themselves". Helloooooo! Wake up and smell the coffee little confused dimwit! What use to the environment a stupid 3-day convention where people practically only eat, shit, sit on their asses and talk incessantly, can somebody answer me? Do they collect some money to save a part of a forest? Do they decide to put up a protest against a company, which poisons a river? No, they just admire each others elf ears all day and try to get laid with a hobbit for the night! So elves are not so different than us humans then, are they?

Actually, as a weird twist of fate, I kinda liked the guys who dressed up as ring wraiths more. They never talk and you can't see their faces so in my opinion, they are braver than all those pre-pubescent teenagers who think they are all elven queens. Another one of them explains why they are extremely different from the Star Trek fans: "Unlike Trekkies, we help each other out. This is our own fellowship" Yeah right! I'm sure the only thing they help each other with is with your outfits and make-ups! Actually being a Trekkie is a much much better obsession; at least you get to learn about positive sciences such as physics or astronomy instead of just 'how to make the perfect elf ears out of Playdoh'! The real pathetic thing about all these type of people who become obsessed with all the wrong things about an intellectual work lies with their own psychological problems. Another elf queen explains this: "In Middle-Earth people do things for other people. They are not doing it for fame or to impress some chick or get the money". D'oh! So when you put your wigs, beards, and hoods on, you do so to help other people? Are you sure you're not doing it to impress other people? Of course, a very simple psychological weakness lies under all these behavior. When people cannot manage to, or don't want to, be content only with being themselves, they choose to hide behind masks, costumes and ideals; the easiest way out. However, the saddest thing about this kind of behavior is that the real message and the feeling that the creator of the original work wanted to convey gets lost in the process. Is there a single character in Tolkien's books who tries to be something else other than itself? For example, is there a human who decides to be an elf at some point of the story or a dwarf who wants to live as a hobbit? NO! On the contrary, the whole story is about believing in yourself, knowing what you can do and what you can't! It's not a story about a brave boy who sets out on a wonderful adventure to become the greatest hero of all time; it's about a normal boy who finds himself in a perilous journey and in the end, after terrible ordeals, deserves to be known as a great hero. Tolkien'd be more pleased with people think and act as their characters do, not look and behave like them. I don't think for one minute that on weekends he idled his hours away by putting on a pointy hat and a fake beard instead of doing something creative.

So, I hate all the pointless, commercialized Tolkien conventions, elven queens with Mr.Spock ears and people who think they are helping the Greenpeace by attending to a stupid convention or reading a book 15 times. But I hate most the people who mock a brilliant piece of work by a lack of understanding.

Sunday, March 12, 2006

Sunday Bloody Sunday


I think I have a love and hate relationship with Sundays. I love them because it's weekend, it's holiday, no work, I can do anything I want to (until 00:00). However, things usually don't turn out like that for me. Sounds impossible but I manage to get this existential rage and indifference at the same time on Sundays. Sundays are the days I mostly,

- hate globalisation,
- hate that there are no dogs or cats on the streets of London,
- hate cars,
- hate restaurants which have misty eyed couples staring or talking in whispers to each other over little candles on the tables,
- hate Coldplay,
- hate all electronic and electrical appliances, most of all computers,
- can't decide what to do for dinner - eat in or out, if out where, what, when etc - and end up eating rubbish at 22:00,
- want to listen to Linkin Park at full volume while singing along at the top of my lungs,
- want to go for a run in the park and fail miserably afterwards,
- want to go to the city centre and then change my mind,
- want to wake up early but never manage to get out of the bed before 11:00,
- want to go to bed early but end up staying up till 01:00 (well it's BBC's fault to put Family Guy on 00:00) ,
- want to be living in a small country town or Paris while knowing at the back of my head that I'd feel the same,
- want to escape to the Bahamas,
- think about going back.

Saturday, March 11, 2006

A Day in Cymru

Living upto the disclaimer on the top of the page I have failed to update the blog for some time now. But I had a legitimate reason (at least in my opinion); I have been waiting for a genuine experience to write about. And it came along today in the form of a Rugby Match.

With a couple of colleagues from the office we bought tickets for the Wales v. Italy match. Our group was composed me, a Norwegian, an American and a British. We met on 8:30 at Paddington station to get onto the 8:45 train. However, there was a problem; the American was late. Although we waited till the last minute, he failed to show up and we departed without him. With a little bit of disappointment because of the mishap, we set out on our 2.5 hour long journey in our comfy table seats. At the halfway stop, a group of gentlemen that just got on co
me to our table and without any entrances "subtly" blamed us of sitting in their seats. Now let me explain what was written on our tickets: E 01-2-3-4 FN. We were in Coach E and we were sitting in seats 1-2-3-4. But their tickets were E-01-2-3 as well but they got B on their tickets. Now nobody knew what the letters meant. I ceertainly didn't expect a train ticket to puzzle this many people. After a bit elaboration though we realised that FN meant forward facing seats and B meant backwards. And yes, actually we were sitting in their seats, sort of. By this time, the American called and we told him to get onto the 9:45 train.


At 11:15, we arrived at Cardiff. We got out of the train station to a sea of red t-shirts, scarfs, socks etc. Everybody was there for the match and most of them was Welsh. I say most of them because there were a couple of Italians as well; some of them wearing blue wigs (blue is their team colour). We decided to explore the city for an hour and then come back to the station to pick up the American. Now as a Londoner two things especially caught my eye in Cardiff at first; the signs in
Welsh and the non-existence of any kind of minorities. It was as if there was not a single black or Chinese or some other minority family living in Cardiff. On the streets, everybody w
as white and British (or Welsh). This didn't disturb me as such but I felt a little more alienated, maybe. Walking through the city, we realised something else; the city was almost shutdown for the match.
The roads were closed the traffic and everybody was crowded into the pubs or were drinking beers outside. Actually all of the city was like an open-air pub. I've never seen that many men (and quite a number of women) with beer bellies in my life. One other quirky thing was the shop names; I got the impression that Welsh doesn't like to elaborate too much on things. For example, the name of one chip shop wa "Chippy" or one stationery store was called "The Pen and the Paper" or the sandwich and fruit juice store called "Fresh". Very refreshing after new-age, made up nonsense shop names you suffer in London, like wagamama, pret a manger or Le Cafe du Maison (a local one).

After a short stroll, we arrived at Cardiff castle but we just looked from the outside and went onto
have our first pint of the day. Now, to further demonstrate that Wales is a strange territory I will tell you the name of the local brew: BRAINS. It's a creamy Guiness-like beer and you order it like this: "3 Brains please." I made up this joke after learning the name; drink 5 pints of Brains to lose your mind. Surreal. And, no, it's not the result of a 200 year old typo.

Anyway at 11:20, we met up with the American. By this time, the doo
rs to the stadium was open so we decided to go and get our seats. The Stadium of Light is a beatiful stadium. It's new and very modern. It's also an engineering achievement as it's possible to close the roof of the stadium against adverse weather. As we get into the stadium, I didn't expect much from out seating. But as we got closer to the place on the tickets, I got curious. And when we at last found our seats, I was gobsmacked. We were practically 10m away from the pitch. Everything was going to unfold in front of eyes when the match started. I was delighted. And hungry. So we downed another pint with hotdogs and waited for the kickoff at 13:30. However, first we had to watch the procession of the National Guard with a very spurned up and important looking GOAT on tow. WE guessed it was like a mascot. The NG was followed by a choir which sang hymns or something like that. Not much people was paying attention to them, at least we weren't, because behind them a group of cheerleaders was following. They did a short dance routine in front of all 4 sides but I though we got the worst routine; not much hair throwing and booty shaking. By this time, beer had went through my digestion system and arrived at the waste disposal unit so I rushed to the toilets. And suffered a small shock the moment I entered it. THE PEOPLE WERE PEEING INTO THE SINKS. How gross is that! My mind simply rejected to accpet the scene for a split second. But, unfortunately, reality always win. Anyways, putting that image behind my head I entered a cubicle, got rid of the beer in me and ran out looking at the floor. When I got back my seat, I dutifully advised my companions not to wash their hands at the toilet and explained why. For some reason, they weren't too fazed.

So, at last, the teams got on to the pitch, anthems sang and the ball got kicked. Now let me remind you that this was my first Rugby match and I don't know much about rugy, either. Which, leads to British guy getting questioned constantly; "why did the referee stop the match just now?", "was that a penalty?" (him:"yes") "Why?". I also asked the American's opinion, whether it was similar to American football or not. He didn't seem to be too much impressed with it but was enjoying himself nonetheless. His understanding was definitely better than mine.

What is on my opinion on Rugby after watching a full match
? Well it's, of course, a rough sport. Some of the 'tackles' endured by the players was awful. You think no sane person would willingly take that kind of treatment. But when one of the sides starts a charge for the opposite side's goal area, it gets very intense. Also, the excitement of 74,000 people surrounds you and affects you. These were the goods.

Alongside the occasional excitement, most of the match was a bit slow. There were a lot of stops to form 'scrums', to treat players' sprained ankle or hurt toe or something. Play just stopped every now and then; which makes the game a bit pedestrian. Another thing was the spectators. At a football match, the spectators are usually alive with chanting. The stadiums tremble with songs and cheers. Enormous flags ripple above the crowds. Plus mexican waves. What was it like during the Rugby match? It was quiet. The majority of the crowd just sit in their se
ats and watched the game like they're watching a beauty paegant or something. I didn't feel a sort camarederie or overflow of emotions. There was the occasional mass cheers of "WA-LES" but otherwise it was very sterile. One last thing is the end of the match was a disappointment; and not because it was a draw. There is no extra time in Rugby when the time is up, the game ends. And it just ends. The second the clock ticked the players dropped the ball and quickly left the pitch. That's it. No saluting the crowd, no victory runs, nothing. I got the feeling they were just glad that it has ended and they can go to the pub and have a pint of Brains.

After drinking a couple of pints of our own, we got on the train for London, which was packed and we didn't have reserved seats so we helped ourselves to some empty First Class seats, which luckily nobody claimed afterwards.


Sunday, February 19, 2006

Story of a £5 Well Spent

Today (Blogger's Note: This is the Saturday entry) got rather interesting as I was walking idly down the Oxford Street. In front of one of the shops, there was a small crowd. The shop got posters on its windows claiming to sell ipods for £5.00, digital cameras for £10.00, PS2s for £20.00. The faded mark of the "Sockshop" could still be read, which meant that the shop was recently evacuated. Of course, all my bullshit bells rang but I stayed on. Soon, a man with long curly hair opened the door and started to let the people in. Inside, the empty shelves from the previous business was still present. At the far end of the shop was a desk with a man behind it. So that was the reason for the unbelievably low prices; they were only starting prices; they were going to auction the goods. How wrong was I!

The man put on a microphone set and started the show by a monologue. He was talking fast and explaining how we were so lucky an that this wasn't a joke. But after 5 minutes another guy, middle-eastern looking, appeared behind him and promptly replaced him. Now, the moment I saw this guy any doubts in my head as to whether this is a scam or not, completely disappeared. Think about all the villains in comic books like Tintin or Lucky Luke and you'll get the picture. The guy even had the crook eyes; you know, one eye slanting and smaller than the other giving a mischievous gaze.

The new guy, Michael, was a master at controlling a crowd. Between his speech, he asked people where they are from and made small jokes, creating an informal and friendly air. He was supported by a sidekick; Sebastian, who apparently was assigned to be the comedic element as Michael peppered his speech with jokes about him being gay. By now there was 40-50 people in the small shop, most of them tourists. Soon, also, the purpose of the wooden stick in Michael's hand was understood. Think about a school teacher with a ruler in his/her hand, which she/he slams on to his/her desk from time to time to cease the talking between the students. It proved effective here as well. It was as if he was hypnotizing the crowd and didn't want them to be distracted.

He started by handing out some cassettes for pennie and walkmans for £1, with free batteries. Moved onto Gameboys for £5. The boxes of the goods looked very worn and tatty, which he accepted but guaranteed that the devices were in excellent condition. He even handed out a bundle of electronics including an ipod Shuffle to a guy for £5. Madness, right! After half an hour, the game changed. He asked for £5 from every person in the shop who were willing to walk away with another bundle of electronics. So Sebastian and another aide started collecting the £5s and giving out tickets. Michael also introduced a level of gamble into the game; he asked from the people to raise their hands if they'd pay £30 for anything on his mind and then selected a guy. However, he didn't hand out the goods for £30 but for £5, claiming to be charitable etc. This practice was clearly aimed at building a trust for himself and to encourage people to part with more money. Soon, the tickets got replaced by "electronic organizers" - a little gift - and anybody without them was excluded from the sale and lead out of the shop. In other words, the crowd was canvassed.

He again built up a very impressive 10-item bundle in front of him; including a sony camcorder, an ipod and a Sony vaio laptop as a "treat". He asked if anybody was willing to pay £150 for this bundle. Hands raised up; some with money, some with cards in them. Again a person selected by him, promptly handed the money in neat £20 notes. THAT'S £150 IN CASH! No sane person goes around for a bit of Saturday shopping with that kind of money with him. By now, the whole thing was begininning to turn sour for me. So I headed out.

I only figured out the full genius of the whole thing at the end of the day. My theory is like this; put 5 of your people in the crowd, when you are handing out an e
xpensive item such as an ipod select them and make them the "lucky" person. And when you're giving out rubbish items such as "proton" CD players, select a genuine person. He was only dangling a PSP or an iPod as a carrot in front of the crowd to goad them on. When you think about it, after he collected the £5 to stay in the game from 40 people, he had made £200. And I think they did 3-4 sessions during the day, which makes at least £600. And I don't know if any other money collection was done or not. Neat, eh?

So why do I think that £5 was well spent? For that money, I received a masterclass lecture in scheming and crowd-control. I got the chance to see how easy it is to manipulate poeple. And don't forget the "organizer". So, all in all, very good value in my opinion.

Spotted: - Young guy in Soho, dancing brilliantly on one of those electronic dancing games in an arcade. But there was a difference; instead of feet, he was using his hands to do the moves and he was awesome. Brought a smile to my face!
Played: - GOLDEN AXE! Couldn't believe it! I used to play it in coin-arcades. This time it was on a PS2 in a GAME store on Oxford Street. Ahh, the old games are the best in my opinion.
Read standing: 1st issue of manga ".hack sign" (slight
ly amusing, in my opinion) and quickly Authority:Revolution (Warren Ellis, we miss you).


Wednesday, February 15, 2006

Wine & Sympathy

Owwww...got a very annoying headache....there was a cocktail at the workplace all day thrown for our clients and spent the most of the day with a wine glass in my hand, eating cold japanese cocktail food and having small talks with mildly interesting people. Thanks to the unusually pushy waiters must have drunk a bottle of wine without realising. Still worse they were pushy towards guests as well; poor guys were constantly trying to shoo them off. However, in the end, it was a satisfactory function for me as I met most of the people I was expecting to see and some I wasn't.

Don't want to see any sushi for another 3 months.

Tuesday, February 14, 2006

Bloody Valentine's Day


Ahhh great, Valentine's Day!!! The day of the cheese. The epitome of schmuck. The day in which you get to see couples crowding every 2nd rate restaurant and hotel in the land just because Clinton's told them to do so. And the next day it's back to chinese take aways and "early night"s. I can hear some saying "oh but it's an opportunity to cherish the beauty and warmth of love, to feel unashamedly in love, and to show it out to everybody." bla bla bla. No people all you cherish is the tills of Messrs DeBeers, Harvey Nichols and Lord Selfridge. How many of you wanted to give a beautiful ring to your beloved on 28th of January and then thought "Well Valentine's is coming, I better wait so that I won't have to buy another thing on the day." Himm? Tell me. If you did, yours is not true love. Plain and simple.

OK now that we took care of the cynical commenting I can explain how I really felt at the end of the day. Well, a bit sad, which wasn't surprising. I said to myself, you feel sad because nobody called and celebrated your Valentine's Day (OK to their credit Edi&Budu called, but, although sweet, it just doesn't count) I thought about my other friends who are single at the moment and which, didn't receive a call as well. So I decided to call them and celebrate their Valentine's Day; this way we 'd be able to share our sadness and feel much better. And it worked. They sounded really happy at the other end of the phone. And I was happy, too because I had made another person happy, which was the whole point of today, wasn't it?
(NB: I only called the girls though. The boys would probably shut the phone on my face ^_^)

Spotted today:
- Shoplifter grabbing a handful of Brit Awards Nominees CDs from the HMV in Piccadilly and walking pass the sensors only by holding them above his head. Helpfully, but unwittingly, held the door to the guy as well.
- Read standing: Issues 3-4 of manga Demon Diary (feature article being planned)

Monday, February 13, 2006

I'm back

Yes, at last, I managed to find a plausible reason in my head to update this blog. It took me 1.5 years but never mind. And the reason is this; these entries will act like my memoirs (hence, the title change) of my time in London. It's a shame that it's been almost 4 years now already but don't fret, God willing, I'll have another 4 (no, I'm not a born-again Christian now).

Ok so let's have a little recap.

2003
- at last finished the post-grad degree, got rid of the thesis, got hold of the diploma. Yayy!
- got run over by an Indian delivery boy's moped, opened eyes in the hospital in a surprisingly calm manner without any clothes and recollection of the accident, got numerous stitches in the head and a black eye, depressing but amusing (go figure!) graduation ceremony photos.

2004
- July, found a job, happy but a bit dazed, there is a Russian, a Cypriot and 4 Ts in the office (yeah sounds a bit like a joke)
- August, started the rite of passage called "the work permit" ... Shiver! Parents were, which will be referred as Edi(dad) and Budu(mum) in future posts, moving house in a completely tedious way; in luggages. My father looks like someone between a very busy serial killer and a homeless person, dragging luggages continously between places all day.
- September, still struggling with the WP, also the workload had become ridiculous. Moving was a revelation for Budu; she realised how many things a person can stuff into closets and cupboards. Edi went back to home country; leaving us with the rest of the moving. Oh joy!
- October, yep, still; WP!!! Making exquisite plans of highly original torture methods about the lawyer, who in a very perplexing way treats her clients like daycare children in Cambodia. Made Budu to agree to a cunning plan involving moving stuff, which I cannot retell here because of confidentiality but it involves a Yellow Box . Nihahahaha! v_v
- November, WPPPPPPPPPPPPPP! Arrrghhh...
- December, at last got my spanking new WP and come back to London after a very relaxing 1 month at home country. Did I feel relieved!!

- New Year, Budu went out with her friends, I went out with mine (Duncan & Peri), watched the fireworks at London Eye, for the first time. *Sigh*

2005
- Budu left me as well and went back to home country in February. Duncan and Peri left as well. Suddenly felt really lonely. Ahh well.
- March, went to Munich, beautiful city, loved it, cycled all day around it, but it didn't feel too good seeing places by myself so made a note to self to arrange a tour next time.
- May, OMG, how stupid I can be! Practically got myself fired from the job over a completely idiotic and frankly pointless error of judgment. Chaos ensued. Luckily, had previously arranged a 10 day visit to home country.
- Best pal (BP) got married, beautiful ceremony and a better party in the evening, never felt that happy for a long time.
- Lovely day at the lake, picnic in the sunshine, beers in the boat on the lake, superb! *Sigh*
- June, Back to London, pouring over job ads on the internet, filling forms, sending CVs. Also MB asked me if I'd like to work in his shop till I find a job. Promptly accepted.
- July, FUCK ME! A company came back to me out of nowhere, made the interview, now very nervous, waiting, London bombings happen on the trial run at the company, 2 weeks goes by, finally they hire me!!! Couldn't believe it being a loyal pessimistic, was again in a daze.
- August, welcome to the beautiful world of WORK PERMITS! AGAIN! SAME LAWYER! ARRRRGGGGHHH! Got it at the end of month. Phew!!
- September, learning the new job etc., the colleagues are a funny bunch, very laid back, very different from the previous job.
- October, 3 dates with a girl, G, lost interest after the third (sorry it sounds cruel way but I was a gentleman through it all) broke up in a tad awkward way involving her prophetic girlfriend and a 500m walk side by side after the break up. Went and watched the Nightwatch afterwards.
- December, new year at the home country with friends and family. Nice food, nice weather, better company. Very satisfied and happy. In the mean time, Edi and Budu again moved to their new house this time, in which they almost need walkie-talkies to speak to each other. ^_^

And 2006..


Spotted today:
- a boy wearing a day-glo green trousers and bright red jacket, crossing the road at Piccadilly.
- a man wearing a top hat, shaggy suit, gloves and a red rose, browsing the Jazz section at Virgin.
- CDs: sparks, vitaminrecords.com - some awesome tributes, Serge Gainsbourg
- Read standing: first 2 issues of manga Priest.
- Read sitting: still Belle du Jour (main influence for blogging again)