Garrison Games 2

I mentioned previously the kerfuffle over the English rugby team coming to play in Croke Park. Much of the controversy centred on whether it would be appropriate for God Save The Queen to be sung in a temple of Irish nationalism.

Thanks to my learned colleague Wood, I realise that this issue may not arise in the future. Some David Kitchens fellow has started a petition on the 10 Downing Street website to replace God Save The Queen with a far less offensive tune: Gold by Spandau Ballet.

Thus far over 5,000 of his fellow Britons have signed: Gold Anthem

"Quit your jibba jabber, Time Fool!"

I am meant to be i) writing a research proposal ii) reading about the goals of different political actors in Morocco iii) writing a zine for Frank's APA (so that you will have intellectually stimulating material to read here in the future iv) attending to many other important tasks. Instead I am reading MR. T vs. THE CYBERMEN. It is the ultimate battle between the Robots of Silver and the Man of Gold.

Do you want to play the Book Game?

There is this game called The Book Game, in which people make up first lines for books and then try to guess the real first line from among all the made up ones. If you fancy playing it with mentalists from the Internet, go here: The Book Game. You will need a LiveJournal account to play, but such things can be arranged.

Garrison Games

I live under a stone, so I missed the chortlesome story about a man protesting against foreign games while wearing a t-shirt for a foreign team who play a foreign game. In a way, this was our get a brain morans. [picture from Daily Telegraph article 'Demonstrators fight losing battle']

In other news, Sinn Féin's Ard Fheis has unanimously voted to change the name of Merrion Road to Bobby Sands Avenue, this being the street where the British Embassy is located. "What is good enough for Tehran should be good enough for Dublin," John Crowley of Armagh is quoted as saying in The Irish Times.

Concert: Acid Mothers Temple

By now you know the score - Acid Mothers Temple are the crazy ass hairy Japanese guys who play space rock wig out music. I too know the score. They came, they played, they rocked. One of the tracks they played was recognised by me as 'Pink Lady Lemonade' - which is interesting, as I do not seem to have it on any of the recordings I have of this great band.

I picked up a couple of records at the show. Electric Heavyland was electric and heavy, while Starless and Bible Black Sabbath (a homage to the Sab) rocks like the proverbial motherfucker and demands to be turned up to call-the-cops volume levels.

OMG PHEAR TEH CUET

The BBC reports that two pairs of little orphaned baby orangutangs and baby tigers have become inseparable friends: In pictures: Baby animal love story

Sadly, the cuteness cannot last, as when tiger cubs reach three months old they turn carnivore, and so could end up eating their friends.

"The Lincolnshire Poacher"

I have been discovering the magic of the Numbers Stations. You can listen to some of them here: "numbers stations"

Swedish Rhapsody is particularly creepy.

As you know, Numbers Stations are mysterious radio stations which broadcast... numbers. It is assumed that they are sending coded messages to spies. An endless succession of distorted voices saying numbers or letters and nothing else is very creepy. Nothing really compares to it except the wierder bits of Chris Morris' Blue Jam or the celebrated Unexplained flexidisc of voices from beyond the grave, as recorded by Konstantin Raudive et al.

Film: Pan's Labyrinth

I take it you have seen this. I like the fantasy stuff more than the Spanish Civil War stuff, as the latter seemed a bit formulaic and too goodies and baddies. Still, I was interested by the idea that the fantasy story featured moral ambiguity while the people in the "real" story had the kind of Zoroastrianism that one typically associates with fairy tales.

Those Spanish nationalist soldiers – they were rubbish! I was struck by how they could not fight their way out of a paper bag. It was hard to see how, with tards like these, Franco had managed to win a bloody civil war.

A clarification

I would like to make it entirely clear that my post last monday headed Orbital Mind Control Lasers was meant as a joke, and that the linked-to article is also intended either as humour or else is a hoax. I do not in any way believe that the government is beaming thoughts into people's brains or using secret technology to read minds and control behaviours. Furthermore, I am making this statement entirely of my own free will and have not been subjected to any coercion. Nor is this post being written by a replicant.

Have you ever been to Drogheda?

I was at some events in the RTE Living Music malarky last weekend, of which more later. Now I am mad for the weirdo music, and was excited to be handed a flyer for some concerts of Terry Riley music up in Drogheda, as part of some arts festival. Terry Riley is one of those modernist composers about whom people go on, especially my homies in Frank's APA. He has this piece called "In C" which is meant to be very good, and up in Drogheda it will be performed by the Crash Ensemble, so I reckon I will go to visit. It's on over the May bank holiday weekend, so staying over is possible. On the day after I can check out the sights of Drogheda... eh, don't they have a shrivelled head there or something?

I am curious about this Drogheda Arts Festival... I wonder to what extent they will be importing both performers and audience.