Monday, April 05, 2004
Went to the British Library and joined today, so I have yet another ID Card in my collection, yet still am opposed to an official ID Card. And the British Library is a lovely place.
Then down to the Science Museum for the Pain exhibition. Annoyingly I trolled all the way through all the levels of the museum before asking a member of staff for the directions, I think there was one sign in the entire building. It was a very average experience, someone had obviously raided the Museum basements for anything that looked icky, a torture chair with blades instead of a seat, primitive dentists equipment, films of a recreation of the experiments which made average people torture other ordinary people. What made me ill was not anything I saw or heard, but the fact that room one was pitch black while rooms two and three were pure white and mirrored. It was that, not man's inhumanity to man, that made me feel ill.
And I now have a copy of Issue #3 of Smoke. Hurrah!
And constructive criticism is the only way Smoke will ever get better - we've tried all the other ways. For instance, this time we're using bigger type whenever possible, and being more careful with backgrounds, because people told us Smoke#2 made their eyes hurt... We're also using softer paper, with gently chamfered edges, because people told us it made their hands hurt. We're also selling our mailing-list to junk-mail companies, because we realised you were all taking the piss.
Sadly Ian Sinclair (no relation to Iain Sinclair) doesn't make a reappearance.
Meanwhile the full horror of the month has settled in. Yes, it's the tenth anniversary of Kurt Cobain's death and the nations music magazines turn into a load of girls masturbating over their Nirvana albums. Look, the guy was good, but until he stops acting like a prima donna and comes back from the dead to make the fourth Nirvana album we should leave the guy alone. And this is a message that especially applies to New Musical Excretions who, barely a month after printing extracts from his journal and pointing out that his list of top songs didn't mean much because if asked the next day he'd almost certainly change his mind have marked the anniversary of his death by... putting out a CD of his list of top songs.
Then down to the Science Museum for the Pain exhibition. Annoyingly I trolled all the way through all the levels of the museum before asking a member of staff for the directions, I think there was one sign in the entire building. It was a very average experience, someone had obviously raided the Museum basements for anything that looked icky, a torture chair with blades instead of a seat, primitive dentists equipment, films of a recreation of the experiments which made average people torture other ordinary people. What made me ill was not anything I saw or heard, but the fact that room one was pitch black while rooms two and three were pure white and mirrored. It was that, not man's inhumanity to man, that made me feel ill.
And I now have a copy of Issue #3 of Smoke. Hurrah!
And constructive criticism is the only way Smoke will ever get better - we've tried all the other ways. For instance, this time we're using bigger type whenever possible, and being more careful with backgrounds, because people told us Smoke#2 made their eyes hurt... We're also using softer paper, with gently chamfered edges, because people told us it made their hands hurt. We're also selling our mailing-list to junk-mail companies, because we realised you were all taking the piss.
Sadly Ian Sinclair (no relation to Iain Sinclair) doesn't make a reappearance.
Meanwhile the full horror of the month has settled in. Yes, it's the tenth anniversary of Kurt Cobain's death and the nations music magazines turn into a load of girls masturbating over their Nirvana albums. Look, the guy was good, but until he stops acting like a prima donna and comes back from the dead to make the fourth Nirvana album we should leave the guy alone. And this is a message that especially applies to New Musical Excretions who, barely a month after printing extracts from his journal and pointing out that his list of top songs didn't mean much because if asked the next day he'd almost certainly change his mind have marked the anniversary of his death by... putting out a CD of his list of top songs.
