Disturbing Musical Tastes
Recently, the Comely Banking Crisis featured a post which, despite amounting to a selfless endeavour to share some quite extraordinary musical experiences, quite frankly fell flat. The problem? The music was far too obscure. And weird. And the taste, slightly disturbing.
And I'm afraid this issue runs beyond the blog and into one's personal Facebook activity also. Recently I tearfully shared knowledge of the death of the great Ronnie James Dio, a man who performed with both Rainbow and Black Sabbath - a truely lovely man with the voice of an angel (a heavy metal angel, obviously) - and got not so much as a 'like', lol, OMFG, or any such acknowledgement of shared grief. The man is credited with popularizing the 'devil horns' sign! The problem? Dispite Dio's dinosaur stature in a particular sub-genre, too obscure again!
So if you're unfortunate enough not to know his work, give him a try. He's dead now so we should all do the decent thing and try to make him more famous than he was while alive. I'm sure the current atmosphere of fondness for classic rock and metal stemming from underlying mockery à la Spinal Tap will help nay-sayers appreciate this 1977 clip of Dio with Rainbow performing Kill the King in Munich. This is the stuff metal legends are made of:
On another dodgy musical front, this is Eurovision weekend! Where will you be? I know where I'll be: at home, with friends, taking in the ENTIRE broadcast and attending my own glitzy after party. Love the Euro! Love the Eurovision! Because that is what's wrong with Europe and the Euro at the moment: not enough Euro-love!
Disturbing musical tastes indeed.
Passport to Edinburgh
This has been an exciting week in the realm of the Comely Banking Crisis.
The BBC reported on Tuesday that a bomb disposal team was called out to the University of Edinburgh to attend to an intimidating, apparently unexploded hand-grenade which some workmen found under a stair-well. It later turned out that it was not a live device.
I can picture the scene. Man A in mid conversation lifts a filing cabinet, and suddenly freezes in silent horror. Man B, his interlocutor, doesn't think. His experience in the service has taught him not to. He just grabs the menacing device and throws it in the direction of his other colleagues outside the door, who are standing around outside chatting and enjoying their bacon rolls. Then Man B leaps to the ground, hands covering head. Colleagues never speak to Man B again.
When the devise finally detonated, the resultant crater exposed a hoard of Burgundian treasure and a small document archive. Experts in the university have reported that among the latter is a royal charter stating that the university and its grounds are officially ceded to the Duke of Burgundy in perpetuity, implying that all students and staff of the university are now, technically, French.
On Saturday, I watched Passport to Pimlico. I am currently renewing my own passport too.
Key: truth; lies; speculation.
Undercurrents at Expo 2010, Shanghai
There's something paradoxical about the annual World Expo. Nations strive to set up (normally) exciting and futuristic pavillions, the host nation focuses on the favourable future for themselves and everyone else concerned: technology, design, art, environment - meeting national identity. This year's Expo is in Shanghai and features such exciting treats as Germany's Balancity and Maldives' Tomorrow (which focuses on environment, making me cry a little - bless them!) China is getting a Pavillion for pretty much every province and major city, which is reasonable I suppose since they're hosting the thing. Among these is the confidence inducing New Tibet, Better Life. Estonia's Save City looks interesting and suffocatingly topical - yes, that is 'Save' as in save money! And I'm sure you've already seen the Iran and North Korea pavillions, humorously juxtaposed.
All forward looking, friendly stuff, I'm sure you'll agree, but I've always had a feeling that the Expo has never really moved beyond the Victorian era. It was founded then, of course, apparently Prince Albert's idea. The idea that you exhibit new technologies and sciencific and aesthetic advances, if it originates in that era, is not the issue. The issue is that nations set up their own pavillions, displaying a watered down version of their national identity and often couching it in these technological and aesthetic advancements.
One gets the feeling that in this respect the Expo has never lost that ambition, that competitive sense that the world is caught up in an unstoppable process that will eventually lead to excessive imperialism that will cave in on itself and finally cause two world wars! Well, the world isn't quite like that any more. At least industrial powers have figured out that it's not advantageous to pound each other to mutual poverty and thereby waive superpower status and generally end up embarassed.
The world expo is very much 21st cenutry in China, but is still 19th century when it comes to coolness. We're used to receiving our aesthetic, technological pleasures from large multinationals these days, so the nation-state focus naturally bamboozles one a little. Not so much Apple as Eritrea. So, traditions and things from Spain pavillion? No: futuristic things. What?
Actually, to be more specific, a giant robotic baby from the dark pit of your worst nightmare. Imagine this thing crawling along, upside-down with its head facing the wrong way, on your ceiling!
I've never seen a baby with an eviler look on its face! Think I'm being harsh? Okay then, go ahead and instead imagine it in a cot, gurgling away, in your house, crying in the middle of the night! Fancy that?!
Don't get me wrong, I'd absolutely love to go. Some of these pavilions look truly amazing. But listen: I'd also like to watch Isambard Kingdom Brunel building a bridge, or have dinner with Queen Victoria. Maybe the darker side of my personality would even like to see Franz Ferdinand assasinated, just to be there, you know? But I'd rather do this without all the nationalism, thanks very much.
Let’s put this into perspective
The Comely Banking Crisis has been a stressful working crisis for the last two weeks and as a result my blog has been hit by its first dry patch. But there's been plenty of election-related action to follow on every medium available so why would I spend time blogging when I could be playing with the BBC's absorbing, interactive election map. And more to the point, why would YOU be reading this? With all that excitment?
Anyway, to finish this spate of election related blogging, now that the sorry affair is over, I'm kicking back and putting things into perspective. Pleased by the current winds of change? Fancy a younger, handsomer PM? Let's not get carried away by such indulgences and contemplate who's running the UK now. And by the way, did you see that smile on the Queen's face? A Tory at last!
The Electoral Matrix
Honestly, I must move on from politics soon and get on with matters more aesthetic and sublime - we've all got the Guardian, Times, BBC News, etc covering this election anyway.
But I want to make one vaguely aesthetic or cultural point about this election's media coverage, and to make this point I shall marshall two pieces of evidence:
1) The BBC's coverage of the election in general; and
2) Derek Jackson from Land is Power, the so-called Landless Peasant party, who has already become a facebook hit since holding a Black Land is Power Salute behind Gordon Brown during the PM's entire Kirkaldy and Cowdenbeath election victory speech.
As my friend Gareth observed during our election extravaganza last night, don't you think there's something seriously Matrix-esque about both features?
We spent all night watching Beeb presenters walking through virtual Commons, virtual Number 10s, floating over electronic UKs. And then we have Derek, resolutely sporting his "peasant" look with a pair of indoor shades and a carefully sculpted goatee. Is he supposed to be some sort of activist Agent Smith? Look at him there!
Cameron’s Common People
This election, even if it is the cruel advent of a new Tory age (let's see), has at least brought us a lot of entertaining media, spin and spin-off. The potential Tory take-over has also caused many commentators to remember, and remind us, why they variously distrust, hate, or despise the Conservatives. It's been a useful month for jogging one's happy memories.
Here's something useful and entertaining that came out of it:
(I wonder how many blogs it has featured on already!)
Thanks Icy Penguin for bringing this to my attention.
Give us a change Nick!
Wow! So the Guardian is in total, enthusiastic editorial support of the Liberal Democrats and on Friday told us that they would vote that way if only newspapers had a vote. A little conceited, if you ask me, as surely newspapers account for thousands of votes, but I know what they mean. Just a bit of artistic license to tell us how they're officially set for next Thursday's general election. Well, the Comely Banking Crisis has received voting papers, and along these lines, I thought I'd write a brief, open letter to the Lib Dem's great and mighty leader, the one and only Nick Clegg:
Dear Nick Clegg,
This week is election week. I'm sure you're very busy running around the country scraping up those last few votes you can beg, borrow or steal - and let's face it, out of our first three UK 'presidential' candidates ever, you're the one who needs to do the most work.
However, I hope that in the midst of the final tumultuous week on the campaign trail, somewhere between rallying exhausted supporters and eventually having your photo taken at the polling booth on the big day, you might find a minute or two to contemplate the following (Bad Religion songs are, in fact, very short and so eminently suitable for the listening to during a quick breather on the campaign bus):
Yours, etc,
The Comely Banking Crisis