/Gedudel/

did ever a diptych better capture the essence of its subjects?...

Sun, 28 Apr 2013 16:49:01 +0100

did ever a diptych better capture the essence of its subjects? even the head behind R agrees

[no subject]

Sat, 02 Mar 2013 17:17:51 +0000

purposefully he replaced the receiver and walked to the door

he purposefully replaced the receiver and walked to the door

he replaced purposefully the receiver and walked to the door

he replaced the receiver purposefully and walked to the door

he replaced the receiver and purposefully walked to the door

he replaced the receiver purposefully walking to the door

OkStupid?

Tue, 02 Oct 2012 22:45:38 +0100

created using text from around 300 messages sent to my OkCupid account between 23rd September 2011 and 10th September 2012.

A few points to note:

I removed various messages from the sample, including messages from the OkCupid staff, my own messages and replies to messages I sent. This was to avoid skewing the data.
I corrected some of the typos/ spelling mistakes in the original text so that these words would be counted together
What the website defined as ‘Common words’ have been removed

A few comments:

how the actual FUCK does ‘love’ score that highly?? (The 7th most frequently used word)… cynics look away now?
but it’s just soo generic - profile, message, hi etc are fair enough, but good, nice, interesting and pretty… c’mon!
it’s interesting that I’m appears over twice as often as you’re (although to be fair, this was spelled as your more times than I cared to correct)
actually a high number of words from my profile inc hip hop, capitalist, Stewart Lee, so maybe people do actually read them? either that or they just drop whatever stands out straight into their messages to make it look as though they have… *
I think my favourite section is at the top right: PARTY VERSES STYLE HOT TIME RAP ! There’s a Drake song there fo sheezy.

What struck me the most reading back through the messages was an overwhelming sense of guilt at how many sweet, (at least apparently) genuine messages there were among the rot… which of course I never replied to, heartless bitch that I am.

* I also love how Simon has made it in there. This is nothing to do with my profile, but just a guy called Simon who messaged me loads! Sorry Simon!

Log

Sun, 09 Sep 2012 13:05:31 +0100

18082012

- 2x scrambled eggs on wholemeal bread

- Pad Thai and Singha at Cats, Stroud Green

- Crabbies Spiced Orange Ginger Beer, Vodka Watermelon

19082012

- Eggs Royale and Assam Tea at The Blue Legume, Upper St Islington

- 2x Crabbies Ginger Beer at The Famous Cock, Highbury & Islington

- 2x Thornbridge Japiur at The Euston Tap, Euston

- Plantains, chips and dips / Fried chicken, red pepper / Soft shell crab burger, avocado and 2x Chilean Chardonnay at Shrimpy’s, King’s Cross

- 2x Bulmer’s No17 at Crown & Goose, Camden

- Bulmer’s No17 at The Camden Eye, Camden

20082012

- Porridge with milk and honey

- Kikuya tea at Speakeasy, Carnaby St

- Chicken Taouk wrap plus Mezze and Orange Blossom Lemonade at Yalla Yalla, Green’s Court

- Latte at Flat White, Soho

- ‘White’ Tea at The Luxe, Spitalfields Market

- Kopparberg Strawberry & Lime at Vibe Bar, Brick Lane

- Broccoli Soup with Sour Cream and Croutons / Pumpkin Risotto and Greene King IPA at the Stapleton Tavern, Stroud Green

21082012

- Porridge with milk and honey

- Aubergine and chick pea curry with basmati rice at the Hanger Cafe, Hanger Lane

- Kopparberg Summer Fruits at The Griffin, Brentford

- Pukka Pies Jumbo Sausage Roll at Griffin Park, Brentford

22082012

- Porridge with milk and honey

- Spicy turkey and sweetcorn kebabs with salad and yoghurt dip at the Hanger Cafe, Hanger Lane

- Risotto with prawn, lemon, spring onion and basil

23082012

- Porridge with milk and honey

- Risotto with prawn, lemon, spring onion and basil / Spinach and tomato salad

- Lilley’s Firedancer at the Cider Tap, Euston

- Peroni Nastro Azzurro and a Steak Bavarian (beef burger with smoked Bavarian Cheese and caramelised onion) plus Frites and a Latte at Haché, Camden

- Kopparberg Mixed Fruits at the World’s End pub, Camden

andron17: Buffalo Grill by Josh McFadyen I had this postcard...

Tue, 28 Aug 2012 22:28:38 +0100

andron17:

Buffalo Grill by Josh McFadyen

I had this postcard up in my room, but just yesterday replaced it with Tracey Emin’s Laying on Blue. Today it’s the featured photo on Tumblr. A sign? Of what?

Subterranean

Sat, 25 Aug 2012 00:31:00 +0100

dear jackie, jackie jackie why is it when i read you, it’s as if a knife is cutting open my own secret heart and i’m watching the blood pour out as words onto a page? how you write you write as though you’re there talking to me out loud i read it out and as if i were there jackie, the beat and the flow and everything is there on the page and in my voice going with you. never before such an experience it was - reading and feeling and experiencing it’s not just a book you know it’s what happened to me fucking rhapsodic i was and still am.

Supa Dupa Fly

Sun, 08 Jul 2012 01:18:11 +0100

Rain is so hypnotic. Just kneeling in bed, staring out the window. Covering lights and reflecting orange. A familiar illusion that this time is real; static lines.

The rush of white noise. Distant distorted operatic boom.

The smell of it, you can always smell it.

Restless.

Prometheus

Sun, 17 Jun 2012 17:30:00 +0100

Bedeck your heaven, Zeus,

With clouds of mist!

And toy - like a boy

Beheading thistles -

With oaks and mountain peaks!

But leave me my earth,

And my house –

Which you did not build –

And my hearth,

Whose glow you envy me.

I know of nothing under the sun

Poorer than you gods.

Sacrificial offerings

And breath-ed prayers

Do hardly nourish you –

Your majesty –

And you would starve,

Were not children and beggars

Hopeful fools.

When I was a child,

Not knowing in from out,

I turned my wand’ring gaze

To the sun; as if up there would be

An ear to hear my lament;

A heart like mine,

To have mercy on the oppressed.

Who helped me against

The Titans’ hubris?

Who rescued me from death,

From slavery?

Did you not achieve it all yourself,

Holy, glowing heart?

And glowed, young and good –

Deceived – your thanks

To the sleeping one up there?

I honour you? Why?

Have you alleviated the pains,

Ever, of the burdened?

Have you stilled the tears,

Ever, of the anxious?

Was I not forged into a man

By almighty Time

And eternal Fate,

My masters and yours?

Do you really think

I should hate life,

And flee to the desert,

Because not every pipe dream

Blossomed into fruition?

Here I sit, forming humans

In my own image,

A race to be the same as I am;

To suffer, cry,

Enjoy and to be happy,

And to disregard you -

As I do.

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (trans. E Berry)

Flashing Lights

Wed, 30 May 2012 00:13:25 +0100

why are some memories so saturated, as if overexposed at the point of development / and yet “on the other side of the glass in my memory’s museum”.

not just with colour but with everything; exactly what I wore, exactly how I felt, exactly how it was - split seconds - these moments captured in perfection and in their entirety but for what? for what.

appearing like popcorn, hitting the back of my mind as they expand, faster and faster. verging and verging but catching somewhere, not overwhelming.

without the images is worse.

Impressions

Mon, 23 Apr 2012 22:02:00 +0100

‘So where did you study?’

‘Oxford…’

‘Oh. Well that changes everything.’

Do we exist beyond others’ projections of our identity? As if I have no self; every aspect of my personality were pasted on by someone else. I am a construction of Others, a collage of their thoughts, lives and likes; ein Unbild.

Diwan

Sun, 18 Mar 2012 23:19:07 +0000

Diwan

Aspirations

Sun, 04 Mar 2012 19:06:41 +0000

Aspirations

Dreaming in Blood

Tue, 28 Feb 2012 22:40:15 +0000

I am being haunted by blood.

I woke up in a film of sweat, clutching a tissue which I was convinced contained blood. First horror; confusion. I searched frantically for the origin, but was unable to locate it. As consciousness dawned, the red faded and what had once been so offensively vivid was grey once more in a world without colour.

A. was meant to give blood, but her appointment was cancelled. The blood had, however, already accepted its departure from her body, it seemed, and so chose to exit it another way. A series of nosebleeds. M&S Lingerie Department. Kitchen. En route.

I am not squeamish, usually, but something about the nose I find particularly nauseating. Noseeating. Instead of helping I had to turn away, hide amongst hats.

Is this the way dread manifests itself? Even the book I am reading is dipped in red; “the color of blood, which defines us.”

Do I fear what I expect?

Moschee [Ort der Niederwerfung]

Mon, 20 Feb 2012 16:11:15 +0000

Moschee [Ort der Niederwerfung]

London (In A Sentimental Mood)

Mon, 23 Jan 2012 17:48:57 +0000

The city is sticky. clichés glow orange, inscrutable.

lately dreamless, a living sleep.

corners, a vista’s refraction.

to smell is to shiver. salt and bitter. bitter and salt? and always damp. earthy.

Jazz down tiled tunnels -

metallic -

closeted air, rushing.

syncopated.

“If you care, don’t let them know.”

a distraction from…? falling in time. familiar, and yet and yet.

I want to,

one day.

Am Strand

Mon, 16 Jan 2012 23:00:10 +0000

Am Strand

Office

Mon, 09 Jan 2012 12:53:41 +0000

there is a building opposite my office where the sun always shines. no matter how dark or overcast the rest of the anonymous blocks may be, this white building is always bright in the sunlight.

i wait for the kettle to boil and stare at the building as if into space. an eternity. at the top are decks and below, windows. on the top decks are plants and chairs; glass and metal. below that is a window onto a room full of books, which is always lit as though by a fire. below that ..? the angle of one window is such and the tint of its glass is such that smoke rising from the building opposite - out of my sight - is reflected as though it were clouds passing by and the building were flying through the sky. a spaceship.

the building is reminiscent of a ship, like houses on the sea front in seaside towns, faded glamour of victorian facades. i used to wonder if they were in fact ships which had travelled so far and grown so weary, that they had crawled up onto the beach and put down their roots to become houses, and rest at last. there is a flagpole at the stern but no flag.

there is a building where the sun always shines. but today, it is switched off.

[0]2[0]12[0]12

Mon, 02 Jan 2012 13:10:56 +0000

words appear in front of my eyes as if projected on a screen. a nonsensical and arbitrary sequence. (paradox?)

feeling disjointed and displaced. back home in LDN, it’s as if i have changed shape while away and don’t slot back in properly. missed my bed, my ukulele and my pumbaa most of all. a full house has now been emptied and only bottles instead of people remain. my feet are dirty but there is no one here who will clean them. i miss JJ. on the verge of sentimentality.

the changeover into a new year seems generally advocated as a time for reflection. january is named for the roman god janus, characterised by his 2 faces so he looks both forward and back. but resolved to do only the former, despite being surrounded by others’ meditations on 2011 and ring-fenced by people from the past, mostly but not exclusively old friends. so blinkers on, dread and schemes and excitement combine.

in the International Players Anthem (I Choose You) andre 3000 says, “Spaceships don’t come equipped with rearview mirrors”. not sure how andre came to be such an expert on the design of vehicles used for spaceflight, but something about the lyric endures. the internal rhyme makes it somehow beautiful and ridiculous. i look forward to space.

Total Recall

Mon, 19 Dec 2011 00:43:53 +0000

how memory works. why do we celebrate on anniversaries, birthdays etc? why is it only accepted to commemorate one’s birth on one’s birthday? is it that arbitrary? individual reflection on events can take place whenever, but communal remembrance only seems possible on that one date. is it conversely also necessary to remember events at some point during their anniversaries?

today memories follow like a flock of birds. now and then they appear in peripheral vision, but turning to look makes them disappear. in attempting to out-run the birds, i’m only more aware of their presence. an active prevention of remembrance is impossible, because the act itself is a reminder. obviously. what a sticky situation we find ourselves in! other people’s actions only serve to remind you more, if possible, but ironically their actions only demonstrate the extent to which they have ceased to remember.

a song. a word. a place. a thought. a photo. am i being forced to remember or forcing myself?

Dory: No. No, you can’t. …STOP! Please don’t go away. Please? No one’s ever stuck with me for so long before. And if you leave…if you leave… I just, I remember things better with you! I do, look! P. Sherman, forty-two…forty-two… I remember it, I do. It’s there, I know it is, because when I look at you, I can feel it. And…and I look at you, and I…and I’m home! Please…I don’t want that to go away. I don’t want to forget,

Marlin: I’m sorry, Dory. But I do.

i want some porridge.

Po-Po Shut Us Down

Mon, 12 Dec 2011 01:46:00 +0000

So, I hear you ask, what pointless task did I stay up late doing this evening in a foolish and futile attempt to postpone the coming of tomorrow and my own personal hell in the office? Well, I’ll tell you… Are you sitting comfortably?

So, a couple of months ago I found this site called RapGenius which is kind of like a Wikipedia for rap songs. So, like, if you’re listening to some rap choon and you wanna find out what some of the lyrics mean or just some fun hilarious stuff about it, then you can look it up on the site. Like, I KNOW RIGHT. As you can imagine, I was enthralled and super excited.

I’ve been wanting to contribute to the site for a while, and so today there I was.. just maxin’ relaxin’ and listening to Lethal Bizzle’s Police On My Back. So I decided to see if it was on the site and if there were any enlightening comments about it. It wasn’t and there weren’t. So I bit the proverbial bullet and fucking added that shit! You can check it out here. Yeee boiiii!

The song is basically an old school anecdotal style rap about how Lethal used to be a full time criminal before he was a serious grime rapper. Cos he’s from the streets yo! He keepin it real! Although it’s essentially a tongue-in-cheek and light-hearted take on his own misspent youth, some of the overarching themes do tie in with some significant and relevant issues for the UK at the moment, including juvenile delinquency in general and the recent riots in LDN in particular (about which Lethal actually has some proper insightful and intelligent shit to say - I’ve tweeted about it before but here’s the link again. He also called David Cameron a donut - I mean, can you get any fucking cooler?!). The causes of which include, but are not limited to, enmity towards the police (or boydem, if you will) and the whole ‘consumerism + lack of material wealth => people stealing shit they want’ thing (in the song, Lethal sells stolen cars to people in his local area).

Mainly what Lethal is saying is that politicians should listen to grime artists like him, as they act as mouthpieces for what’s actually going on in the streets. The disenfranchised youth do not have their own voice, so people like him are speaking for them (cf. also Devlin’s Community Outcast, where D is representing for people who cannot represent themselves). With the riots, all the rappers had been talking about the violence, crime and general lack of opportunity in those areas for years, but no one had heeded them and in some cases they had even been blamed for it (which, let’s face it, is fucking retarded).

Anyway this has all gone on a much deeper turn then I had originally intended. A brief scan of the RapGenius website reveals that many Dizzee Rascal songs have yet to be explained, so I guess I know what I’ll be doing at work this week… in the meantime, I’m gonna go jack the shit out of some cars and fully intend NOT to co-operate with the ensuing police investigation! Cos Lethal told me to innit.

So I’m in my Punto, yeah, an’ I see the boydem in the rear view. An I’m thinkin, “Shit! What’mI gonna do?! This car’s slow, s’only a 1.2!”