• New for Old

    Easter seems an appropriate time for a resurrection. I was trying to kill off this blog, which I've neglected for so long, but reading some of the posts and comments, decided I quite liked them and wasn't yet ready to commit my words to cyber-oblivion. So back comes Staggering Inanity as Dance of the Dead (title cribbed from the German designer whose Gothickly atmospheric template I used - Viel Dank !)

    Having principally used the old version as somewhere to drone on about various artistic obsessions, I thought I'd transform it into an explicitly arts-based bulletin. I'll try to post something at least once a week, along with links to other connected sites and pages. I'll steer clear of extraneous biographical material: if you really can't do without that, you're welcome to find me on Facebook !

    Hope you like this. Please comment, and link.

    Oh, and Happy Easter !

    Phil Simmons

  • Exam paper: Contemporary Sexual Mores

    A widespread taste for pornography means that nature is alerting us to some threat of extinction.
    J.G. Ballard: News from the Sun (1981)

    Discuss, with particular reference to (a) contemporary popular media, (b) recent court cases [e.g. Paul Gadd, Craig Meehan], (c) themes in films such as Boogie Nights, The Big Lebowski, etc.

  • Folk rocks !

    Following on from my last post, I thought I'd provide some examples of folk-metal, for those who don't know what it is.

    Eluveitie are a Swiss Celtic f-m band. Inis Mona is from their wonderful new album Slania:

    (Check out the bagpipe-player with the goat's skull atop his instrument !)

    This is currently on heavy CD-player rotation round these parts with Land by Tyr, a band of Vikings from the Faroe Islands. This is Sinklars Visa:

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    My missus reckons I've got obscure tastes in music. Can't think why.

  • Thin Metal Jacket

    This recently-published survey, http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/scotland/7598549.stm, purports to demonstrate that those of us who like Heavy Metal music are, contrary to popular misconception, sweet-natured, insecure and creative types. Soddit - sussed !

    Actually, the supposed statistics raise a whole load of interesting questions, most of which are pretty obvious. What about if you listen to a range of different musical genres - what personality traits predominate ? How did the researchers define their categories, both of musical and personality types ? What safeguards were used to ensure that subjects were using the same categories in the same way (a) as each other, and (b) as the researchers ? And which came first, the personality test or the musical questionnaire ? In other words, are we trying to establish a causal link here ?

    Since the exercise was conducted by a reputable academic establishment, we can assume that some standard techniques were used, but whenever someone makes bald statements like 'Fans of musical genre M are X, Y and Z' I suspect a gross oversimplification and dilution both of the experimental intentions and research data. I also wonder, of course, what possible use such a set of findings could be put to.

    Purely anecdotally, of course, I have known Metal fans with all kinds of different personalities. I'm sure the same goes for other genres. And there's also the question of how you define 'Metal.' I notice that in the info published on the BBC News website, it's lumped in with 'Rock' in general, which makes for a very broad church indeed.

    Dr Johnson's dictionary famously defined a horse as 'a neighing quadruped,' a description which, though beautifully succinct, would satisfy very few these days, least of all anyone who works with, studies, rides, or otherwise cares for horses. The same can be said for what goes roughly under the name 'Metal' in musical terms. One of the most durable of all forms of rocknroll, it has undoubtedly branched into the most varied in the 40 years since the early days of Black Sabbath. The uninitiated will probably be familiar with the subgenres of Thrash (25 years old), Death (about 22 y.o.), possibly even Black (15+ y.o.) But contemporary Metal is such a diverse scene that it's really only held together by the presence somewhere in its arrangements of guitar powerchords and loud, repetitive riffing - and even then, not always.

    An example. In the 24 hours since I started thinking about this post, I've been listening to Deep Purple (old-school blues-based early-70s metal), Eluveitie (Gaulish-language Celtic folk-metal), Tyr (Faroese Viking-metal), The Berzerker (industrial/techno drum-based metal)and Midnattsol (Norwegian prog-folk metal.) How anyone can even begin to try and homogenise this sprawling, multicoloured, variform musical culture into a simple set of triggers for a generalised set of behaviours I can't begin to understand.

    As well as being methodologically suspect, then, this exercise strikes me as completely without use or purpose. It reminds me of the discredited pseudoscience of phrenology, whose advocates claimed they could demonstrate people's personalities and likely behaviour from the shape of their heads. The principal difference being, of course, that head shape is largely genetically determined, while aesthetics are predominantly a matter of environment and socialisation. Attempting to view either as deterministic of individual character says more about a general human attachment to determinism itself than it does about the likely accuracy of a single deterministic theory.

    These people need to get out more. Listen to some music. Rock'n'roll !

  • I may live to regret this...

    ...but having been quite sick since well before my last post I thought it might just be time to put myself out into the world again. So here goes...

    PS: I doubt that I'm the first to notice it, but what the f*** are the bloody Scientologists doing advertising on this site ? Let me say, echoingly, from the bottom of the deep and fetid well of my personal experience, that L. Ron Hubbard's little box of electronic tricks is NOT the cure for mental illness !!!

  • Fanny, Alexander, and Alex

    This might well seem a bit out of date, but today I was delighted to find a DVD of Ingmar Bergman's "Fanny & Alexander" - the full, 5-hour, 2-disc, Artificial Eye deal - in our local HMV sale for 7 quid. And this put me in mind of a singularly badtempered and inaccurate attack on the said film written by Alex Cox, in a "Guardian" column last year.

    In fact, it was nearly 2 years ago (see my Guardian clippings at http://books.guardian.co.uk/review/story/0,,1679921,00.html), which probably goes to show how sensitive I am to a grudge even at second or third hand. But it's worth noting, I think, that Cox - whose first major feature, "Repo Man," was both wonderfully imaginative and funny - has not managed to sustain either his inspiration or wit in anything he's done since. In fact, for all his punk credentials, his take on the 1978 Sex Pistols debacle, "Sid & Nancy", is a strong candidate for the worst film ever made.

    Alex, I'm an even bigger artistic failure than you, mate. I love "Repo Man", supported the Sandinistas, and am grateful you gave the great Joe Strummer his break in the movies. But "Fanny og Alexander" (that's Swedish, that is) is a great film, by a director whose Doc Martens I would suggest that you are barely qualified to polish. To seek to discredit it for its theatrical structure, or the upper-middle-class milieu it portrays is equivalent to a member of The Lurkers having a go at Beethoven about the price of violins.

    And I liked The Lurkers.

  • The Unbearable Slightness of Blogging

    Some observations in a lengthy "Guardian Review" piece today by Doris Lessing that interrogate our online culture in a highly intelligent, sceptical - not to say devastatingly precise - way. They can be read at "Guardian Unlimited", and for ease of reference on my clippings page there at: http://www.guardian.co.uk/users/whitecat77/clippings

    (I don't know if you have to register at the site to read the clippings, but it doesn't cost anything.)

    Any thoughts ?

  • Patrick McGoohan IS Samuel Beckett

    Back in July I spent a week at my mother's, accompanied by my 13-year-old son. It's always a strange experience for me, spending time with my Ma, because of all the usual difficulties & contradictions of being a son, particularly an eldest one. Therefore, of course, the presence of mine only compounded matters. One interesting aspect - and one I have yet to mention to my psychotherapist - is that while I was there I found a virtually-complete set of VHS tapes of Patrick McGoohan's legendary 1960s TV series The Prisoner in a charity shop, and, of course, bought them for a quid a copy.

    The psychotherapist bit - The Prisoner - comprenez ???

    Anyhow, I've been working my way through the series, which only ran to 17 episodes, ever since. A number of things have struck me, principal of which is the fact that, even tho' I cannot have been more than 8 years old when I first saw it, The Prisoner made a huge impact on me. But secondly, it's clear that the series, in its resistance to closure and easy explicability, is akin to the drama of Samuel Beckett, a great literary hero of mine, whose work eschewed easy psychologising in favour of the physical demonstration of daily obstacles facing human beings in their search for comfort and familiarity, with the clear implication that this might well be the sine qua non of being human.

    Hmmm, that was yet another overlong sentence, but ya know whadda mean, dontcha ? Let me know.

    Almost forgot - a great piece of "Prisoner" analysis in someone else's webpost:

    http://killthesnark.blogspot.com/2006/05/patrick-mcgoohans-prisoner.html

    READ IT !

  • Magnolia

    Love this film !

    http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0175880/trivia

    Btw, why didn't Cruise get the Oscar for it ? Might've saved him from Scientology.

  • Parenthood, Part 579

    So we get a sitter, and wait till they're all in their own rooms, pretending to be going to sleep. Then we pretend to be there still, whilst sneaking out of the side door... To a restaurant. A very bad restaurant. Where the meat is undercooked, and the bread burnt, and the wine hardly worthy of the name, and the staff spend all evening talking among themselves, and anyway we're the only customers (hardly surprising, given everything else.)

    But we have an hour to ourselves. No disputes to settle. No rules to enforce. No repeated viewings of inane videos for the sake of somnolence. Nothing that relates to anything except ourselves. And we even manage not to talk about THEM. In fact, we hardly talk at all.

    Peace. Bliss. An hour's freedom.

    This is what it does to you.

    Think carefully.

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