MUSiC: Louis Cole

Well, I have to say it again, I love YouTube. Once again I find a new artist, to add to others I’ve discovered there, such as the brilliant Vulfpeck and, going back a bit further, the interesting antipodean King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard.

The last of these – KG&tLW – was a refreshing blast of young prog strangeness, a little off my usual map, but overlapping in areas (odd time signatures, some stuff leaning towards the jazzy/funky or even folky spectrum), whilst Vulfpeck (and Jack Stratton, Theo Katzmann and the Fearless Flyers, etc.) were gobsmackingly poifeck for me.

Louis Cole is somewhere between these two, in that his output is quite prolific, and kind of balanced between Knower, a duo/band project with singer Genevieve Artadi and others, and his own eponymously titled output.

The stuff he does with Knower is very interesting, and most often also very good.  But like KG&tLW, it’s a bit off my usual musical map. And, like the proggers from Down Under, that’s partly due to youthful exuberance. Knower has a level of intensity – I find their video-songs more enjoyable than the many live performances that are online – I find wearying!

You might say, ah, you sorry ol’ duffer. But, truth be told, I’ve always preferred the mellower thide of sings, even though I do like everything from Coltrane’s Interstellar Space to Slayer or some Meshuggah. And I love intense funk and rock, prog, folk, etc. It’s not intensity per se, it’s the particular qualities, or specifics of how it’s done in any given instance.

So, Knower aren’t always my cup o’ tea. But Louis Cole? Now that’s another matter! I love Vulfpeck and Jack Stratton. I really love ’em! But Louis Cole is somethin’ else. For starters, he’s a phenomenal drummer. And as a drummer I love that. Actually both Jack Stratton and Theo Katzmann (no to mention the many guest drummers they’ve had, which includes Louis Cole as it happens) are superb drummers. But LC is at an altogether ‘nother level.

There’s a drummer that used to live local to me, Ric (Byers?), who does stuff under the 05Ric moniker with Gavin Harrison. Any knowledgeable drummer will know Harrison is choptastically mind-boggling. But I actually prefer Ric’s ‘chaos jazz’ drumming style, over Gav’s metronomically polished super-clean super-tight style.

Louis Cole, on the other hand, can do everything from tight simple minimalist drumming to clattering jungle or chaotic jazz, and has that kind of bubbling polyrhythmic intensity that conjures all sorts of potential influences, from Tony Williams and Rashied Ali to Mike Clark, or possibly even Jake Leibezeit, or Dave Garibaldi?

Funnily enough (funkily enough?), however, it was only after I’d listened to him quite a lot that I realised how great a drummer he is. This was partly because several of the times I first encountered him found him playing with other folk (e.g. sitting in with Vulfpeck), or not drumming, but singing, playing keys, etc. (e.g. the monstrously magnificent Thinking Live Sesh, on which Nate Wood is drumming).

But even just seeing him pumping out the groove to Vulfpeck’s It Gets Funkier made it very obvious there was something different and special about him: looking like he’d just got out of bed, and still had on his jammy’s, he plays a deceptively intense funk groove open-handed – left hand on hi-hat, right hand on the snare – and looks like he’s in a world of his own.

And that last observation kind of captures the essence of LC: he really is in a world of his own. A musical one-man-band world of his own making. And it’s a beautiful world. It really is. Cole looks much more comfortable multitracking and multivideoing himself on YouTube than he does in most his collaborations (Knower excepted). As he says in an excellent talk he gave [where? Link?], when it comes to his own music, he’s a bit of a control freak, he knows what he’s aiming for, and he’s the best placed to realise his own audio and and visual visions.

I think he’s been putting stuff out, mainly/mostly via YouTube, for about a decade now. The vast majority of it is simply sublime. And even the stuff I’m less keen on (and there’s actually very little of that) is both very interesting in itself, and… well, I could blather on. Just check it out yourself.

His earlier material is slightly more lo-fi, not unexpectedly, seeing as he’s learning on the job as an online content creator. But it’s also more varied and eclectic. Some is downright weird, whilst other stuff can be quite ‘sweet’, it’s all both very good and very interesting. It’s still early days for me, in terms of exploring his complete back-catalogue, but at present my favourite of his earlier material is Below The Valleys:

That was a more recent discovery for me. The stuff I’ve been mostly diggin’ on is more recent, i.e. within the last year, and includes all of the following: Blimp, Weird Part Of The Night, Things, Sometimes, Thinking, Phone, Drive, blah…

So, not only is he a brilliant drummer, but he’s a superb singer – those high notes in Sometimes! – a sublime songwriter (and mixer/producer, etc.), an excellent keys player, and a dab hand on sundry other instruments, such as guitar, percussion, and so on. And as if all that wasn’t enough, he’s witty, edits/directs fantastic videos, and looks like (and appears to be) an incredibly cool cat! Damn!!

But whereas all this talent might make one nauseous, envious, deflated, or all three, Cole’s music, indeed his whole vibe, is so beautiful, so joyous, that many (clearly, from the comments on his YouTube videos), myself included, are utterly seduced and charmed, captivated and inspired, by his creative output.

I’m a bit of an occasional one man band myself. And I’ve got a fairly huge back-catalogue of music languishing on hard drives. The blissful intensity of experiencing the sound worlds of Louis Cole is making me wonder if perhaps I should pick up my own musical threads, and put it all out there.

Snooker: Bureaucrat Nearly Bosses Beefy in Comeback Special

After the drama of the world number one going out to an unseeded amateur, I watched Judd Trump go four-nil down to his older Thai opponent, Un Nooh. And now I’m watching two of snookers least charismatic players slugging it out at nine frames all.

In an interesting little article about how the BBC are wrecking TV sports coverage by changing the theme music from great originals to pale characterless modern imitations (e.g. the current snooker theme), the journo also bemoans the predominance of such ‘characterless bureaucrats’ as Graeme Dott in the modern game. Harsh!

But whilst ‘Beefy’ Bingham looks like a cabbie, and Dottie does indeed look like an accountant (in fact, he looks quite  like my accountant!), they both prove themselves to have some character after all, in a match which first sees Bingham go eight-one ahead, then nine-four. And finally, after Dott takes five frames in a row, they’re at nine all.

Bingham eventually won. Just. For two rather colourless players, this was a surprisingly exciting game.

Cahill Ousts Ronnie!

I was unable to follow this match closely, as I was working on teaching admin at the time. But I had it playing (glitchily!) on BBC iPlayer, in the background.

I came into it with Ronnie down, five frames to Cahill’s eight. Ronnie then took three rapid frames to level, at eight all. His eighth frame was so quick I missed it altogether by merely popping downstairs momentarily!

Then, as I did my Summer Term timetabling, for one of my schools, Cahill took his ninth frame, in a game thatcsee-sawed excitingly both ways, with Ronnie looking certain to win towards the end. But Cahill stole it in the end.

And then he took his tenth and the deciding frame, potting right up to the black, after Ronnie had an unlucky red in-off whilst potting the blue. What a win! An amateur and Crucible debutant beating the World number one in the first round!

Ronnie seemed out of sorts the whole game, only occasionally showing brief flashes of brilliance. Mostly looking irritated and unfocused, making numerous odd shot selections.

FiLM REViEW: Elizabeth, The Golden Age, 2007

ElizabethTGA

Oh dear! I bought this for Teresa, for 50p, from a local charity shop. She likes her period dramas. And, if they’re good, so do I. This was pretty dreadful.

I could tell it was going to be duff right from the opening sequence, in which some stained glass is rendered in a very modern way, finishing in a portrait of Elizabeth I as a very easily recognisable Cate Blanchett.

Unlike the Catholic Church, who were upset by the way they’re villainised in this film – and they are a set of sallow faced pantomime devils, no mistake! – what offends me is the way that modern filmmakers seem obsessed with rendering history as soap opera.

ElizabethTGA_Raleigh
Walter Raleigh, in his Chippendales period.

Clive Owen’s Walter Raleigh is a smugly self-satisfied himbo, and Cate Blanchett’s Queenie and her coterie of giggling ladies are about as Renaissance as cellphone selfies.

The music is sub LOTR. Kind of what one might expect from scene-setting sounds in a made for TV fantasy series with delusions of grandeur.

Rhys Ifan’s villainous Robert Reston is, whilst allegedly based loosely on Robert Ballard, pure fiction. Indeed, the whole film is a ludicrous patchwork of fictions. More like a fantasy film than a historic epic.

ElizabethTGA_Queenie
More Vogue than verité.

Art critic Kenneth Clark observes that a great leap forward was made when Renaissance artists realised that they needed to depict other ages not as reflections of their own times, but as they might actually have been. We appear to have stepped backwards in time, in this respect.

Like so much modern media, it’s all about surfaces. As a Cambridge local, member of the National Trust, and someone who likes visiting beautiful old buildings, it was fun to identify numerous locations as they appeared (the River Cam and The Backs standing in for The Thames, and Ely Cathedral’s Lady Chapel all dressed up, etc.). It is visually sumptuous, but that actually becomes annoying when there’s no real substance underneath.

ElizabethTGA_PhillipII
Naughty King Phillip II of Spain.

The idea that some viewers might watch this garbage and take it for a historical account is more than mildly worrisome. It also panders to the very strong and growing tendency here in England these days to airbrush royalty, be it ancient or modern, into some chocolate box idea of ‘real’ nobility.

Not sure if I saw the earlier Elizabeth movie, by the same director. But watching this does not incline me to make sure I have. Nor would it surprise me to learn I had actually seen it. And then forgotten it completely. If it’s anything like this, forgetting I’d seen it would be a blessing.

ElizabethTGA_Armada
Naval-gazing…

I remember seeing trailers for Elizabeth, The Golden Age, at cinemas around the time it came out. I half thought I’d like to see it, in particular for the recreation of the Spanish Armada. But even that, impressive as it is on some levels, was actually a real disappointment, being ridiculous in its panto level rendering of events.

Visually lush, in most other respects it is, at best, anodyne, and at worst, mawkishly sentimental. History and substance fall prey to set dressing and fantasy. Don’t bother.

Home: Putting Up Pictures

Putting up pics
A few small acrylic studies.

Getting on for three years in our new home now, and still not put up any of our own artwork. I decided to put that right today, and put up six fairly old acrylic abstract painting ‘studies’, plus a print of a Brice Marden.

I also put up a small Samuel Palmer postcard in the lounge.

Part of the idea behind putting up my own stuff is to motivate me to start doing some new artwork. The same goes for Teresa. I’ve recently unearthed the printing press I/we bought her for her 50th, as well, with a view to getting her going on that (and, I hope, me to!).

Misc: Brexit stuff…

Teresa and I signed the ‘revoke article 50’ online petition. When we signed there were about 3.6 million signatures. It looks like it’ll exceed 6 million very soon. It’s by the far the largest number of signatories in a U.K. Parliamentary petition ever.

We, the signatories, have already received an email reply, saying the government will not revoke article 50. However, since then the Scottish parliament has voted in favour of revoking article 50. So the move to remain in the EU appears to be gaining traction even amongst some (S)MPs.

As well as signing the petition, I posted on FB encouraging everyone I know who shares similar pro-European feelings to do likewise, and I’ve also written both to my local MP, Stephen Barclay (Tory), and even Theresa May.

I doubt either will ever know I wrote to them, as I doubt either email will get past the filtering processes both undoubtedly use. So I thought I’d post my message to May here as well:

Theresa May

I have read online, in numerous places, that you have said to revoke Article 50 would be a ‘failure of Democracy’. In my opinion democracy as practised by the Conservative Party has already, and for a long time, been an abject failure.

For example, the Conservatives conducted a shameful and misleading campaign on proportional representation, a form of voting that could and should increase the real strength of democratic representation, which, like the Brexit issue, included the cynical use of a referendum.

In both instances the Conservatives were not seeking the best outcome for the people they supposedly represent, but the outcome that they themselves favoured. Properly implemented proportional representation would weaken the Conservative grip on power, and if the Conservatives really want to conserve anything at all (aside from, all too often, their own wealth) that grip on power would be it. And you’ve done a good job, occupying the position of ruling party for 75% of the time since WWII.

Mention of WWII brings me back to Brexit: one of the key reasons for almost all of the aspects of Pan-European cooperation since WWII has been to prevent the resurgence of petty nationalism, such as stoked the fires of the two World Wars. Yes, the institutions of Europe may be far from perfect. But many of us believe it is far better to work from within. If we leave the EU, we will almost certainly be precipitating further political fragmentation that may well usher in a more volatile nationalistic era in politics.

Do the Conservatives really want their international political legacy to be to return us to a pre-WWII state of affairs?

Whilst I doubt that you will see/read this, I hope that you do. And even more fervently I hope that you have the political and moral strength to admit that pandering to the anti-European factions in both your own party and the country at large was a mistake. Be strong, be courageous, be a real leader: revoke article 50.

Sebastian Palmer

What I think May really means, when she says there’s been ‘a failure of a Democracy’, is that there’s been a failure of Tory policy. The Tories opened this can of worms, but they don’t want to eat it. May now wants to worm out of her onerous responsibilities, by quitting her post when a firm steady hand is needed most.

The Tories have no fear or compunction about betraying or upsetting that part of the electorate that doesn’t agree with them. Their desire to ‘stand firm’ and not revoke Article 50 is entirely about conserving their own political following. Just as they didn’t want PR, ’cause it’d weaken their grip on power, they don’t want to alienate their hardcore anti-European followers. Screw the rest of us!

Interestingly, and tellingly/unsurprisingly, the way the Tories are handling Brexit, including their use of referenda, relates very notably to their approach to PR, by which I mean proportional representation. The 2017 general election saw a difference of approx 2% in the number of votes cast for Labour and the Conservatives. And yet, with our current system  that translated into an 8% difference in number of seats. That’s the kind of ‘democracy’ the Conservatives are so keen to, erm… Conserve!

And the will of the people? Which people? The turnout for the Brexit referendum, from a potential total of just over 46 million voters, was about 72%. And of that 72%, about 50% voted leave, and 48% voted remain. So, just as the first past the post system we currently employ can and does deliver a party into government on an approximate one-third support basis (and not even necessarily the party with the highest number of votes*), so too with Brexit. As things stood at the time of the referendum, the leave vote represented roughly one-third of the eligible electorate.


* This has cut both ways: in 1951 marginally more people voted Labour than Conservative, but the number of seats didn’t correspond, and the Tories won. In 1974 the roles were reversed, when a fractionally higher Tory turnout returned a Labour government!

MEDiA/MiSC: Thoughts on the Christchurch shootings.

An infamous image: Australian Brenton Tarrant turns his cam on himself, during his murderous live-streamed rampage.

Yesterday, whilst reading online about the recent Christchurch mosque shootings, I watched two clips from the shooter’s infamous livestream footage.

The first was an approximately 5-6 minute segment in which he – Australian Brenton Tarrant – drives to the location of the first of his two attacks, a Mosque in Christchurch, NZ. This first video clip contained no graphic violence. I saw it on a British online mainstream news website (I forget which network it was).

Like so much POV media one can see these days – and there’s a lot of it online, from extreme sports stuff to the body-cams of cops or soldiers in shoot outs or combat – the initial impression is one of everyday banality; man in car drives around, talking to himself/his assumed audience.

Interestingly, what this live-stream ‘selfie’ video culture does, is make real a narcissistic fantasy we all share, to differing degrees, re the interest (or lack thereof) others might take in our ‘private’ lives.

Here, however, beyond the immediate everyday banality, there are a number of worrying things to be seen and heard: the ‘first person’ view reveals the driver is wearing combat gear; the passenger seat is strewn with firearms (the weapons themselves covered in weird white writing); something in one of the footwells flashes continuously[1]; the driver’s talking in a manner calculated to alarm anyone who isn’t a racist lunatic feeding on a diet of conspiracy theory bullshit; and a weirdly eclectic playlist of music – including the pop song Fire, a British military march and a Serbian song popularly known as ‘Remove Kebab’ – accompanies the whole bizarre scenario.

Less than a week after these shocking events, which occurred on March 15th, 2019, I spent about an hour or so reading a number of versions of much the same content, splashed across multiple online mainstream media outlets.

Frustrated at their uniformity and lack of detail, I decided to try digging a bit deeper. The result was that I found a longer version of Tarrant’s footage, which appeared to contain the entirety of his first attack. Most of the images in this post are screen grabs from this longer video.

Behind the wheel, some of Tarrant’s sizeable arsenal can be seen on the passenger seat.

The homicidal zealot exits his car, intent on killing. Note combat gloves.

One of the most horrifically iconic images from the livestream; approaching the Al Noor mosque, Tarrant prepares to open fire.

A chilling view, Tarrant hunts for further victims, in the mosque car park.

The location where I found what I think is the full livestream video (about 15 or so minutes?) – bestgore.com, an infamous shock site [2] that has subsequently closed – also featured a large number of user comments, mostly of an appalling sort that I won’t dignify with further attention.

What I will do, is say a few things about having seen this video, a video that most corporate sources, from governments to the media itself, quickly sought to suppress. More on this latter issue later.

One of the strangest and potentially alarming things, to my mind, and this probably reflects the saturation of media violence one is so inured to in Western culture, is that – and I guess this will surprise and upset some people who know me – I wasn’t really very shocked by the violence in itself. Why? Well, apart from the already mentioned jaded/overexposed aspect, it all resembles those very popular POV video game shoot-’em-ups.

I knew, or at least believed, that what I was witnessing was real [3]; appallingly so. But it doesn’t look any more real than countless scenes from films, or the action in many popular first-person shoot-em-up video games. Popular entertainment has revelled for so long now in much more overstated and gory violence, and to such an intense degree, that the real thing sometimes looks, ironically, ‘less than real’.

When there’s so much deliberately pornographic violence out there – from Tarantino movies to the endless quest for shock-horror baseness that underpins entire careers (Rob Zombie), and spawns such things as the Human Centipede franchise (leaching into popular culture to the extent that the latter is referenced in The Simpsons!) – in the mainstream media, the real thing, rather like a trip to Niagara Falls (which, unlike US style mass-shootings, is something I’ve experienced), winds up having less impact, even when it’s ‘real life’.

Much of the media I read before seeing the unexpurgated footage talked of ‘deeply disturbing’ footage of ‘men, women and children’ being shot. The quality of the video I saw was not HD, but blurred and grainy. And the helmet or head-cam POV makes it harder to see things clearly. Pretty much all the individuals I could make out, on first viewing, appeared to be adult males. [4]

There is one notably unfortunate woman, who crosses Tarrant’s path outside of the mosque. How he dispatches her is, perhaps somewhat strangely – given she is just the one person, whereas the men he kills are many – one of the more disturbing parts of the video. He shoots but doesn’t kill her. Leaving her wounded in the gutter, audibly crying out for help. A little later he appears to drive over her prone body. Is she dead yet? We don’t know. Clearly the callously sadistic Tarrant doesn’t care.

Tarrant pleads guilty to all charges via video-link to the court.

Aside from this lone female victim, one of the only moments that seemed less ‘abstract’ and video-game like is when someone inside the mosque makes a desperate attempt to run past Tarrant. In doing do their head/face pass very close to the headcam. This gives a momentary semblance of individuality and humanity to what otherwise appear as random undifferentiated bodies. It’s hard to see what happens, but I don’t think this brave but terrified individual escaped alive.

Amongst the tsunami of sickening verbal effluence posted in the comments at bestgore.com, one or two people posed a counter-view. I mention these comments again because I concur with one or two points some of the more sober commenters made about Tarrant: one concerns the obvious hypocrisy of a white male of Australian nationality perpetrating such a ‘race-war’ style crimes in another similarly colonised land, New Zealand.

Tarrant published a ‘manifesto’ (a cut n paste hodge-podge of racist right wing memes and conspiracy theories which I’ve read about, but not actually read) in which he seeks to explain/justify his actions. According to summaries of its contents it’s a familiar toxic mix of far-right white-supremacist nonsense (Great Replacement Theory type stuff). In it Tarrant describes muslims and immigrants as The Invaders.

Not having read his ‘manifesto’ I don’t know if he addresses the fact that, if you follow his own logic to it’s natural and inevitable conclusion, the Maoris of NZ and the Aborigines of Australia ought to be out en-masse, rampaging through the churches and shopping malls of those nations blowing the very real white colonial Invaders off ‘their land’.

So the first critical point has to do with Tarrant’s appallingly limited , indeed, moronic lack of understanding of human genetic diversity and movement around the globe.

The second has to do with his m.o. In the footage after the first massacre, he drives off at some speed, through the streets of Christchurch, presumably en route to his second killing spree, and says a few things.

One of the things he mentions is leaving unused ammo lying around. Another is, I think, not being as methodical and thorough in his slayings as he’d like (I think he may also mention something about the victims being mostly adult males).

In this latter reflection he refers to his totally one-sided murder-spree as a ‘firefight’. Clearly, in his poisoned mind, he’s in a battle. But, obviously, a firefight requires that your enemy is also armed, and firing back. A firing squad is not a firefight! Nor was Tarrant’s brutally one-sided butchery.

Mid-massacre, Tarrant returns to his car, to re-equip; this is what’s in his boot. The red fuel canisters were intended for use as petrol bombs.

Click here to view a video synopsis these events.

And this brings me to the core of what some of the less demented commenters on bestgore.com were concluding: Tarrant is clearly a dumb and deluded coward. Many men turn their frustrations on themselves and commit suicide. But some, like Tarrant, turn their anger cans frustration on the world.

From serial-killers to warmongers, such folk seek to displace the sense of threatened inadequacy they feel in themselves, by manufacturing a conspiracy they can go to war against.

And for Tarrant, as with disturbingly large numbers of extreme right-wing racists, this is a war that he seemingly happily feels can be waged by the armed against the unarmed. A ‘war’ that includes as legitimate targets not only the apparently ‘fair game’ of adult males, but also women and children.

His manifesto is where he allegedly sets out why this is so: Islam seeks to displace Christianity – I don’t know where his ‘facts’/figures come from (if he has any?), nor if they have any relation to reality or not – and ‘they’, the ‘Invaders’, aka Muslim immigrants, are outbreeding whites.

According to those who have read his bilious outpourings, Tarrant specifically justifies the killing of children in terms of a strictly utilitarian argument: kill as many as you can now, including children, so your own kids have less to kill further down the road. The cold logic of such ideas is, to me, as shocking as the acts it prepares the ‘believer’ for.

Whilst on the subject of belief, I once read a rather difficult book (difficult more for its stodgy academic style than it’s disturbing content) called Believe And Destroy, which aimed to examine how and why intelligent people willingly murdered fellow humans in pursuit of Hitler’s Nazi racial policies.

The author, a Spaniard named Ingrao, reasoned that Nazism worked like a religion, cultivating a sense of belonging, and also a sense of ‘faith’. Together these would prepare believers for the transition from ordinary law-abiding citizens into mass-murderers.

I’ve also read books claiming that the category or concept of ‘race’, as commonly understood, is a false one, in terms of ‘true’ scientific categories. Whatever the reality of this latter point may be, certainly Churchill put it very well when he described the alleged reasoning behind Nazism as ‘a perverted science.’

And here we get to the rub: for Tarrant his killing-spree is justified as being an attempt to actively coerce evolution in the direction of favouring his own supposed in-group, which he identifies in terms of race and religion, i.e. white Christian.

But, of the trio of Abrahamic religions born of Jewish decent, it’s only the founding branch that, as far as I know, holds to a specifically ethnic tribal/clan/blood view of belonging (God’s chosen people, etc.). Christianity and Islam are, in theory/by contrast, open to any and all (even Judaism has evolved to the extent that non-Jews can ‘convert’); as long as the faithful meet certain criteria – wide and varying, depending on the particular sect/brand of any given religion – then racial origin/identity is irrelevant.

Temel Atacocugus survived being shot nine times by Tarrant!

Sam Harris, in his book The End of Faith, makes a cogent and I feel very reasonable argument as to why people might reach a point of saying ‘this far but no further’ (or, more bluntly, ‘at this point we go to war’), over how one is free or otherwise to live. Harris’ vision pits a basically rational humanist one against the devout religious believer. And I share his basic views.

It’s kind of facile and, much worse, potentially very misleading, to observe that Harris and Tarrant share some aspects of thought process: an enemy is perceived, and a stand against that enemy is taken. Crucially and very significantly it’s where they part company, massively, in how those boundaries are negotiated, how differences might be resolved, and how such social visions are manifested in personal action, that shows the gulf between their outlooks.

Harris hopes that a secular culture can grow robust enough to collectively deal with such threats, whereas Tarrant seeks the ‘lone wolf’ path of the individual terrorist, of whatever race or creed.

What all these ideas begin to reveal are complex multifaceted problems: to those who admire Tarrant’s actions – a frighteningly larger number than many would wish to believe – he’s fighting fire with fire, and taking on a personal role/responsibility, something they believe liberals like Harris comfortably abnegate, instead delegating such action to others (law enforcement, the army, etc.).

And they argue further, that liberals and intellectuals and suchlike – known disparagingly these days as ‘woke’ or ‘snowflakes’ – are like the appeasers of Hitler, failing to see in the rise of fundamentalist Islam it’s real degree of intent and threat.

If you hear some of the talking heads interviewed in Richard Dawkins far too short and overly simplistic TV series The Root Of All Evil, you might well think, as I did at the time, uh-oh, there really is a danger of Islam seeking to overthrow ‘The West’. Certainly Islam, the adolescent to Christianity’s father figure, and Judaism’s grandfather figure, can oft-times appear the most juvenile and belligerent of the three branches of Abrahamic religious descent.

Scrawled all over spare ammo clips, white-supremacist Christian vs Muslim graffiti. Tarrant’s weapons and body armour were covered in such texts.

When I hear someone like the American ex-New Yorker convert to radical Islam (I don’t recall his name), in the aforementioned Root Of All Evil, ranting about ‘your women’ being ‘dressed as whores’, it is worrying. It ought to be merely sad, suggestive of, in his case, unresolved developmental and relationship issues.

It’s much the same problem we encounter in Tarrant: personal inadequacies are cloaked under a mantle of perceived societal threats. Strange fantasies evolve, allowing the individual to act aggressively in seeking to make the world conform to their damaged perceptions. Or, failing that, exacting revenge on a world they feel is letting them down.

It’s stating the obvious, I know; but tragedies like the Christchurch massacres just go to prove that, even if categories such as race or religious creed are perhaps redundant or fallacious, they remain potentially fraught and divisive ideas.

I often read things, for example I recently read Against Hate (Emcke), or before that the far superior Better Angels of Our Nature (Pinker), which appeal to reason as the way to resolve these problems. I hope fervently that this is how we proceed. But the pessimistic part of me does worry about where we’re currently headed…


NOTES:

NB: These include some stuff added much later than my original drafting and posting of this stuff, most of which was first written in the week after the events of 15th March, 2019.

If you’re interested in how the NZ government reacted to and dealt with the livestream footage that Tarrant put out, and which was viewed a lot online at the time – some of which I saw – and for some time after the events, read this.

It’s also worth knowing that people seeking to distribute the video in NZ have been jailed for their actions, under the legal codes to which the above link relates.

This still from Tarrant’s livestream video shows him firing through the front windscreen (whilst driving!).

[1] This turns out to be a strobe light weapon-fitting, used to disorientate ‘targets’, making them easier to dispatch.

[2] Hosted by Mark Marek, an Eastern European guy living in Canada, bestgore.com achieved worldwide notoriety when Luka Magnotta posted his home-made snuff movie ‘One lunatic, one ice-pick’ to the website.

[3] The bestgore.com posting of Tarrant’s livestream footage was littered with comments suggesting the video is faked. Most of these comments were, it was clear from the context, not worthy of the slightest attention. One or two, however, did make mention of a section in the film where Tarrant fire one of his guns through his own front windscreen, with – they allege – no discernible effect on the glass. On first viewing it did look that way. I must admit I did find that surprising and weird. But close study of the still above suggests one can see window damage, in the form of cracks. Tarrant also fires through his left passenger side window at one point, and the glass shatters, as you’d expect it to. The whole firing through the front windscreen bit makes me think that if he is indeed doing what he appears to be doing, then he presumably knew that he could do so. Me being a firearms dunce, having almost no experience with them, I would’ve assumed that one ought not fire in an enclosed space (ricochets, flying debris/shrapnel, etc.). Perhaps the weapon has such a high-velocity it can be fired through glass or whatever without significant deflection? And perhaps it’s simply that the video resolution is sufficiently poor it’s hard to see the holes the bullets make in the front windscreen? Anyway, as far as I’m aware, the overwhelming consensus is that Tarrant’s footage is, tragically, all too genuine.

Misc: Revoke Article 50 petition.

Right, first off, a  link to the petition so you can find it and sign it quicker than I did. Every piece I read online about it appears to omit this.

Teresa and I signed it this evening. The number of signatures when we signed stood at about 3.6 million. I’m encouraging everyone I know to sign it. Ok, so Europe and her institutions are far from perfect. But better to work from within, than outside.

Misc: Sunny O’Rollivan’s Comeback Rollercoaster

OSullivanTrump_Final

I’ve liked snooker since I were a nipper. I think partly ’cause dad would watch it occasionally. We even had tiny kiddie’s table for a while! But as an adult I haven’t  watched or followed it much at all.

Just recently, however, during an extended period of complete mental and physical exhaustion (probably caused by my medical conditions), I’ve been getting really into it. For one thing, there seems to be more tournaments on, and very rapidly, one after another.

I’ve  even taken to exploring archival matches on YouTube. But yesterday/last night there was a live treat, in the shape of a Judd Trump vs. Ronnie O’Sullivan quarter final, in Llandudno, Wales.

The series is part of one of many sponsored by a betting company (see my recent rant about the rising tide of betting).  The players, in their dark and Conservative garb, and like the arena itself, act as advertising hoardings for the sponsoring companies. I try my best to block out this this tidal wave of in your face  mind-manipulation. But whereas I can mute the TV ads in the breaks, I can’t ‘mute’ auch visual material – eye-pollution – from within the game.

Still, onto the real meat of this post: I’ve discovered that I, like many others I would imagine, am a great fan of snooker in the ‘Hurricane’ Higgins/’Rocket’ Ronnie mode. And consequently the Trump/O’Sullivan match promised much, both players being renowned for flair and speed.

I didn’t see all of the afternoon session, but I saw enough to know Trump had gotten a 4-1 lead. And this conformed in many respects to the new kid on the block formula, of the younger Trump usurping the elder king of the game. The commentators, including Stephen Hendry, clearly favouring the young lion over the senior silverback.

When I picked up the game again properly, Trump’s lead had grown to 8-5. With Trump needing just two, and Ronnie needing five, on the form they’d been showing thus far, Trump remained the strong favourite.

And then came a pair of very long tactical frames. I suppose these are an essential part of the game. But, as the commentators themselves concede, they don’t really make great televisual viewing. Hendry made me laugh heartily at one point, clamming up for a while, before wryly asking his co-commentator, in a long-delayed riposte to the question ‘have you taken a vow of silence?’ asked what his favourite kind of food was. Yep, this may have been a gripping match of wills for the players, but endless safety shots leave viewers at risk of losing interest.

After Trump won the single longest such duel, of something over 45 minutes, to take the lead once again, it looked to be all but over. But what’s this? O’Sullivan found his vintage and celebrated form, storming to victory in the next two frames with consecutive century table clearances.

Any true snooker addict, I would assume, and certainly this one, prefers a decent fight to a whitewash. And at nine-all, that’s what we were enjoying, no mistake. But, like a well directed film or play, the greatest excitement still lay in store.

The final frame was a real peach: first Trump did what he’d been doing all through the match, playing superbly, and establishing a strong 50-0 lead, looking every bit the winner. But then he missed a fairly ordinary red, and Ronnie leaped in.

Then, after a decent but not long or strong enough visit, it was Ronnie’s turn to fluff it.

As Phil Yates observed, by this time they must’ve been running on adrenaline and instinct, which was no doubt a strong element of what made the final set so volatile and exciting.

Trump had had many chances to put the frame and match to bed and, on the yellow, looked like he couldn’t fail to do so. But playing like his younger less mature self, he tried to power it in. Rattling in the jaws, it stayed out.

Yates couldn’t believe he hadnt just rolled it in. Nor could I. Yates’ co-commentator, David Hendon said that wasn’t Trump’s way. I know what he means; Trump is known for his brash flash potting. But there had already been many times in this match where he’d shown exemplary delicacy of touch, rolling in slow wafer-thin acutely angled pots, many much tougher than this match-winning yellow.

Where Trump needed just the yellow, Ronnie needed all the remaining colours. And he proceeded to coolly pot them, taking his time, showing the maturity that’s given his extraordinary talent that added longevity. The match had truly been, as Jill Douglas excitedly and accurately described it, ‘epic’, even in the truly Tolstoyan sense, with the two 40-45 minute plus frames.

And in the end it came down to the final ball of the final frame.

When O’Sullivan potted the black, I was ecstatic, clapping at the TV like a truly demented loony fan, grinning ear-to-ear. The crowd loved it, the pundits loved it. Ronnie, punching the air and beating his chest, clearly loved it. What a match! Sports at its best.

I’ve only just learned of the existence of Judd Trump, which shows how long I’ve not been following the game (when I last ‘followed’ it, via my dad, ‘Hurricane’ Higgins, whilst past his best, still looked human). I really like Trump, and against most opponents would’ve been rooting for him.

But Ronnie really is a legend, with some sort of dark powerful charisma. I hope he goes on to win the series. He’s recently threatened to quit the game altogether. I hope he doesn’t. But if he won this, reaching world no. one again, and then quit. That’d be, like this match, high and nigh-on fairytale drama.

Oh, and this post wouldn’t be complete without mention of that pink.

MUSiC: Joni Mitchell Discography, 1968-1980

In the wake of my post post yesterday, on the March 2019 Mojo feature on her, I’ve decided to start posting my album by album critical review of her discography.

I’m only planning to cover up until Mingus. From Wild Things Run Fast onwards, if I’m honest, she never attains the same heights and depths, for me at least. Or perhaps what I really mean is that the music only rarely connects with or moves me from that point on.

From her 1968 debut, Song To A Seagull, through to Hejira, in 1976 – in other words her first eight albums, recorded and released over eight years – her music is totally sublime, as far as I’m concerned. Or, to misquote Johnny Mercer, she’s just too fabulous for words. Still, I won’t let that stop me!

But I’m going to include the two live albums, and her last couple of jazzier studio releases, Don Juan and Mingus as well, giving a total of twelve recordings from what I regard as the ‘golden age’ of Joni.

This post is intended to act as an index to these discographical posts, once they’re all in place.

Joni Clouds
Clouds, 1969
Joni Ladies
Ladies Of The Canyon, 1970
Joni Blue
Blue, 1971
Joni Roses
For The Roses, 1972
Joni Court
Court And Spark, 1973
Joni Aisles
Miles of Aisles, 1974
Joni Hissing
The Hissing Of Summer Lawns, 1975
Joni Hejira
Hejira, 1976
Joni Don
Don Juan’s Reckless Daughter, 1977
Joni Mingus
Mingus, 1979
Joni Shadows
Shadows & Light, 1980

This post has sat in the drafts folder for aeons (I’m typing this in late Sept’, 2021!). But I’m re-inserting it back into the chronology of posts where it was first intended to be.