apolla: (Default)
I haven't mentioned Jim Morrison here on the Auld El Jay since (according to LJ Archive) since the sixteenth of January, which was only in passing while talking about Ronnie Drew. Before that, the last mention of him of any substance was on 9th December, the day after his birthday, and only in response to a news article. Those of you unaccustomed to my ways might think "Ah, she no longer cares. She's over it, she's moved on." As if I fucking could. Just show me how, etc, etc.

Actually, I only started onto that path today thanks to Bill Hicks. I finished reading American Scream (which is a biography of Bill) by Cynthia True while I was in Starbucks this lunchtime, and I turned to the Igby's 1993 bootlegs and listened with new ears. In some ways it was the same as the last twenty times I've listened to that gig, but somehow just a little extra context gave some of it a new, real edge. Of course, I missed him. At the end of this month, it is fifteen fucking years since Bill stepped into reality from this ridiculous dream we call 'life'. Letterman finally showed the censored show he cut in late '93. Thanks to the wonders of Counts of the Netherworld, I'd already heard the set many times, though not in that exact form. In fact, I think it's pretty flat and the 'let's hunt and kill Billy Ray Cyrus' bits seem a little 'off' outside the wider context of a full Hicks set. Mind you, fifteen years later and we're still dealing with the deplorably mediocre Cyrus family...

I started thinking about people who see the world as it is and say so, the people who call it as they see it, who see the world logically. Bill talked about the rise of 24-hour news networks spilling their sensationalist scaremongering into our lives, scaring us all into silence and compliance. How about now, kids? 

Then I started quite naturally thinking about Jim, who I always believed (and I suspect always will believe) was just trying to tell us the truth. Disagree with his methods and style by all means (honestly, non-Doors fans, I get your criticisms, I really do), but the man was just trying to tell us the truth about the world. That he, unlike Bill, held onto the chemicals long after they ceased being useful, doesn't make his truth telling any less valid, it just makes some of it clouded and cut short our supply. Incidentally, I really think that, had he survived and lived, your man Morrison would've been the conscience of his generation in a way only Lennon could compete with. Who else could and who has since? McCartney? Jagger? Clapton? Any of those fuckers who made their peace with the Establishment in exchange for money and privilege? Can you imagine Morrison accepting anything from the US government? Can you imagine the hay he would've made out of Watergate? Can you imagine that Lennon would accept anything from the Queen after sending the last thing back? No.

Interesting, isn't it? That these men who tried to tell us the truth ended up.... er... DEAD... while the ones who told us our cuddly bedtime stories about frogs and got into bed with the devil... oh hey! They go to polo matches and they get knighthoods and they have 'witty banter' with Brad Pitt and his waxwork lady. I find that to be an interesting coincidence.

The only person I felt sorry for during the Hicks set was Marky Mark, if only because it seems like he's actually tried to become something better, something more useful to the cultural and creative destiny of our society. I think he might even understand better than most people what Bill was going on about. He wasn't talking about actually killing Billy Ray or Mark, it was about what the fuck are we letting this shit into our lives for?

I occasionally think that I should become a stand up like Bill, because I really feel this stuff still needs to be said. It needs to be SHOUTED OUT TO THE FUCKING WORLD UNTIL THEY FUCKING LISTEN, but I'd just end up regurgitating all Bill's act, and Denis Leary already did that, the cunt. Oh yeah: Leary stole pretty much everything that made you laugh from Bill, including the angry guy persona, and he's now a movie and TV star... and Bill's fucking dead. If anyone tells me that the world is a just and right place, I will merely point this small, disgusting fact out as the proof that it's REALLY NOT.

There are real problems in the world. I don't just mean the economy being shit or genocide. I mean the WHOLE FUCKING THING. Even if I did stand up on a stage and say so, who would listen and who would care? We killed the guys who told us the truth and now we couldn't respond to the truth if it came and kicked us in the face. WHICH IT HAS!

They tried to tell us the fucking truth, and they died. What does that tell you about the fucking world? If one more Oxbridge-educated upper middle class cunt tries to tell me to be scared of anything, I'll be after them, because I'm not going to be scared anymore. Life is but a dream. Viva la revolucion.
apolla: (Default)
I haven't mentioned Jim Morrison here on the Auld El Jay since (according to LJ Archive) since the sixteenth of January, which was only in passing while talking about Ronnie Drew. Before that, the last mention of him of any substance was on 9th December, the day after his birthday, and only in response to a news article. Those of you unaccustomed to my ways might think "Ah, she no longer cares. She's over it, she's moved on." As if I fucking could. Just show me how, etc, etc.

Actually, I only started onto that path today thanks to Bill Hicks. I finished reading American Scream (which is a biography of Bill) by Cynthia True while I was in Starbucks this lunchtime, and I turned to the Igby's 1993 bootlegs and listened with new ears. In some ways it was the same as the last twenty times I've listened to that gig, but somehow just a little extra context gave some of it a new, real edge. Of course, I missed him. At the end of this month, it is fifteen fucking years since Bill stepped into reality from this ridiculous dream we call 'life'. Letterman finally showed the censored show he cut in late '93. Thanks to the wonders of Counts of the Netherworld, I'd already heard the set many times, though not in that exact form. In fact, I think it's pretty flat and the 'let's hunt and kill Billy Ray Cyrus' bits seem a little 'off' outside the wider context of a full Hicks set. Mind you, fifteen years later and we're still dealing with the deplorably mediocre Cyrus family...

I started thinking about people who see the world as it is and say so, the people who call it as they see it, who see the world logically. Bill talked about the rise of 24-hour news networks spilling their sensationalist scaremongering into our lives, scaring us all into silence and compliance. How about now, kids? 

Then I started quite naturally thinking about Jim, who I always believed (and I suspect always will believe) was just trying to tell us the truth. Disagree with his methods and style by all means (honestly, non-Doors fans, I get your criticisms, I really do), but the man was just trying to tell us the truth about the world. That he, unlike Bill, held onto the chemicals long after they ceased being useful, doesn't make his truth telling any less valid, it just makes some of it clouded and cut short our supply. Incidentally, I really think that, had he survived and lived, your man Morrison would've been the conscience of his generation in a way only Lennon could compete with. Who else could and who has since? McCartney? Jagger? Clapton? Any of those fuckers who made their peace with the Establishment in exchange for money and privilege? Can you imagine Morrison accepting anything from the US government? Can you imagine the hay he would've made out of Watergate? Can you imagine that Lennon would accept anything from the Queen after sending the last thing back? No.

Interesting, isn't it? That these men who tried to tell us the truth ended up.... er... DEAD... while the ones who told us our cuddly bedtime stories about frogs and got into bed with the devil... oh hey! They go to polo matches and they get knighthoods and they have 'witty banter' with Brad Pitt and his waxwork lady. I find that to be an interesting coincidence.

The only person I felt sorry for during the Hicks set was Marky Mark, if only because it seems like he's actually tried to become something better, something more useful to the cultural and creative destiny of our society. I think he might even understand better than most people what Bill was going on about. He wasn't talking about actually killing Billy Ray or Mark, it was about what the fuck are we letting this shit into our lives for?

I occasionally think that I should become a stand up like Bill, because I really feel this stuff still needs to be said. It needs to be SHOUTED OUT TO THE FUCKING WORLD UNTIL THEY FUCKING LISTEN, but I'd just end up regurgitating all Bill's act, and Denis Leary already did that, the cunt. Oh yeah: Leary stole pretty much everything that made you laugh from Bill, including the angry guy persona, and he's now a movie and TV star... and Bill's fucking dead. If anyone tells me that the world is a just and right place, I will merely point this small, disgusting fact out as the proof that it's REALLY NOT.

There are real problems in the world. I don't just mean the economy being shit or genocide. I mean the WHOLE FUCKING THING. Even if I did stand up on a stage and say so, who would listen and who would care? We killed the guys who told us the truth and now we couldn't respond to the truth if it came and kicked us in the face. WHICH IT HAS!

They tried to tell us the fucking truth, and they died. What does that tell you about the fucking world? If one more Oxbridge-educated upper middle class cunt tries to tell me to be scared of anything, I'll be after them, because I'm not going to be scared anymore. Life is but a dream. Viva la revolucion.

Oh my me

Tuesday, 2 October 2007 21:30
apolla: (OTP)
Numerical, I think.

1. I think I might become the new Bill Hicks. Y/N?

2. I get the feeling that actually, Bob Dylan is the greatest of bluffer-piss takers in history.

3. Stephen Fry's documentary about HIV is breaking my heart.

4. There is a part of me that really does think putting the entire world out of my misery is a really good idea.

5. Seriously, this programme is really, really making my soul sting.

6. Dylan said after Love and Theft: "these so-called connoisseurs of Bob Dylan music...I don't feel they know a thing, or have any inkling of who I am and what I’m about. I know they think they do, and yet it’s ludicrous, it's humorous, and sad. That such people have spent so much of their time thinking about who? Me? Get a life, please. It’s not something any one person should do about another. You’re not serving your own life well. You’re wasting your life."
I'm no Dylanophile, but i think he's probably right. How do I cut myself free of the ties that bind?

7. No, honestly, I want to weep and sob and scream for these poor people with HIV/AIDS. I also want to beat the idiots who don't look after themselves (and by extension other humans) around the head with a shillelagh.

8. Mind you, I've eaten at the restaurant he's doing an interview with an expert at.

Oh my me

Tuesday, 2 October 2007 21:30
apolla: (OTP)
Numerical, I think.

1. I think I might become the new Bill Hicks. Y/N?

2. I get the feeling that actually, Bob Dylan is the greatest of bluffer-piss takers in history.

3. Stephen Fry's documentary about HIV is breaking my heart.

4. There is a part of me that really does think putting the entire world out of my misery is a really good idea.

5. Seriously, this programme is really, really making my soul sting.

6. Dylan said after Love and Theft: "these so-called connoisseurs of Bob Dylan music...I don't feel they know a thing, or have any inkling of who I am and what I’m about. I know they think they do, and yet it’s ludicrous, it's humorous, and sad. That such people have spent so much of their time thinking about who? Me? Get a life, please. It’s not something any one person should do about another. You’re not serving your own life well. You’re wasting your life."
I'm no Dylanophile, but i think he's probably right. How do I cut myself free of the ties that bind?

7. No, honestly, I want to weep and sob and scream for these poor people with HIV/AIDS. I also want to beat the idiots who don't look after themselves (and by extension other humans) around the head with a shillelagh.

8. Mind you, I've eaten at the restaurant he's doing an interview with an expert at.
apolla: (George and Arthur)
So, one of the get-back-to-sanity methods I've used this time is Bill Hicks.

I first discovered Bill through my little brother, who sat me down in front of Revelations a few years back, then there was a documentary on Radio 2 which I listened to at work the other day. Ordered the DVDs on Monday, they arrived on Wednesday and since then...

It's a bit like the first time I discovered Jim Morrison (insofar as I can remember those strange, long-ago days). It's a lot like the first time I saw V For Vendetta. There's not many things that actually make me really really think about the world, but Bill Hicks is one of them. For that, I hope Bill knows, sees and is glad.

Like many things, it's something I needed to get to at the right time. I saw Revelations years ago, and although I really liked it, it didn't hit the same thought-chord as it does now. Perhaps I needed The Daily Show, The Colbert Report to show me that satire in America now is good, but not great... to point me towards Bill from the right context. I also needed Cook & Moore and their Derek & Clive, the British satire boom, to put it all into context.

Most of all, I needed to see comedy like Bill in the context of finding it funny but not necessarily laughing out loud. Besides, after Derek & Clive, nothing Goatboy says can possibly turn my stomach - after the i-watched-the-coverage-of-the-dead-pope-and-i-got-the-horn bit, everything seems rather tame.

There's not much that I could say about Bill Hicks that hasn't already been said, and probably better said. All I can say is that I've sat here nodding, smiling and laughing since Wednesday. This is a man who, like Dave Allen, told life as it was. He was a man of great humanity, no matter how vitriolic his shows might seem (mostly to those who disagree with him).

Isn't it great to have a comic stand there for an hour and a half pointing out all our faults and flaws, and the evil in the world... who then ends by saying "hey man, let's take all the money we spend on war and instead use it to feed the world and explore space!" That's the kind of program I can get with.

Besides, the man was cynical, barbed and loved rock music. He's me, only funnier. Maybe if I drank, smoked and 'shroomed, I'd be Bill Hicks. He spoke of the people who came to us and said "it's only a ride" and were killed for it... and then became one of them. Listen to him, man, because the man, he makes sense.

Mostly, I found myself sat here thinking "God, I wish Bill was here to talk to us about now." The great irony of this statement is that you can watch him, in Revelations particularly and none of it is out of date. Hell, most of the fucking names are still the same! All  you do is swap Quayle for Cheney, Major for Blair/Brown and... oh me my!

*

As part of my rehabilitation to re-enter the world of humans, I went to the National Gallery & The National Portrait Gallery this afternoon. I could've sat at home watching shite old movies (or Bill Hicks), but I forced myself to clothe myself and travel over to Trafalgar Square.

I like very old paintings of myths and religious episodes and I like portraits, so it's my kind of bag.

Of course, it made me feel better. There's not much better than having Dylan piped into your ears and surrounding yourself with some of the most wondrous works of beauty and art in the world. Stood in front of St Catherine and the Madonna of the Pinks by Raphael, or the Virgin Mary by Sassoferrato, or the Da Vinci cartoon, or the rest of it, it's easy to believe in the ability of humans to create great beauty instead of just destroying it.

At times like those, I allow my cynicism to melt away just a little, and allow myself to believe that actually, humanity might not be totally doomed. Were I rich enough, I would travel around the world to seek out the works of Raphael - no print in a book or online compares to the experience of actually seeing a painting close enough to see the brushstrokes.

Of course, seeing those paintings, I now yearn and wish for Florence. I can't win.

*

I have excellent friends, by the way. I have no idea why they put up with me, but I'm very glad they do. If I feel better, it's because of them first, Bill Hicks a distant second and Raphael thirdmost.

I suppose that the way to tell a true friend is the same as a true love- you can show your worst, your very worst qualities to them and they will still look you in the eye and care about you, love you.

I get the feeling you know, that in Friends, they all rather go their own ways after the end, no longer kept together by easy geography. I live no closer than 80 miles to my very very best friends, and it doesn't matter. I just need to scuffing remember that.

*

In other news, the Dylan movie, I'm Not There, in which like, seven people play The Bob, looks like it's either going to suck big time or rock big time. Being cynical and having seen the trailer, I'm going with the first. With someone like Dylan, I can't imagine who'd rather watch other people pretending to be him when you can watch the man himself in things like Don't Look Back.
apolla: (George and Arthur)
So, one of the get-back-to-sanity methods I've used this time is Bill Hicks.

I first discovered Bill through my little brother, who sat me down in front of Revelations a few years back, then there was a documentary on Radio 2 which I listened to at work the other day. Ordered the DVDs on Monday, they arrived on Wednesday and since then...

It's a bit like the first time I discovered Jim Morrison (insofar as I can remember those strange, long-ago days). It's a lot like the first time I saw V For Vendetta. There's not many things that actually make me really really think about the world, but Bill Hicks is one of them. For that, I hope Bill knows, sees and is glad.

Like many things, it's something I needed to get to at the right time. I saw Revelations years ago, and although I really liked it, it didn't hit the same thought-chord as it does now. Perhaps I needed The Daily Show, The Colbert Report to show me that satire in America now is good, but not great... to point me towards Bill from the right context. I also needed Cook & Moore and their Derek & Clive, the British satire boom, to put it all into context.

Most of all, I needed to see comedy like Bill in the context of finding it funny but not necessarily laughing out loud. Besides, after Derek & Clive, nothing Goatboy says can possibly turn my stomach - after the i-watched-the-coverage-of-the-dead-pope-and-i-got-the-horn bit, everything seems rather tame.

There's not much that I could say about Bill Hicks that hasn't already been said, and probably better said. All I can say is that I've sat here nodding, smiling and laughing since Wednesday. This is a man who, like Dave Allen, told life as it was. He was a man of great humanity, no matter how vitriolic his shows might seem (mostly to those who disagree with him).

Isn't it great to have a comic stand there for an hour and a half pointing out all our faults and flaws, and the evil in the world... who then ends by saying "hey man, let's take all the money we spend on war and instead use it to feed the world and explore space!" That's the kind of program I can get with.

Besides, the man was cynical, barbed and loved rock music. He's me, only funnier. Maybe if I drank, smoked and 'shroomed, I'd be Bill Hicks. He spoke of the people who came to us and said "it's only a ride" and were killed for it... and then became one of them. Listen to him, man, because the man, he makes sense.

Mostly, I found myself sat here thinking "God, I wish Bill was here to talk to us about now." The great irony of this statement is that you can watch him, in Revelations particularly and none of it is out of date. Hell, most of the fucking names are still the same! All  you do is swap Quayle for Cheney, Major for Blair/Brown and... oh me my!

*

As part of my rehabilitation to re-enter the world of humans, I went to the National Gallery & The National Portrait Gallery this afternoon. I could've sat at home watching shite old movies (or Bill Hicks), but I forced myself to clothe myself and travel over to Trafalgar Square.

I like very old paintings of myths and religious episodes and I like portraits, so it's my kind of bag.

Of course, it made me feel better. There's not much better than having Dylan piped into your ears and surrounding yourself with some of the most wondrous works of beauty and art in the world. Stood in front of St Catherine and the Madonna of the Pinks by Raphael, or the Virgin Mary by Sassoferrato, or the Da Vinci cartoon, or the rest of it, it's easy to believe in the ability of humans to create great beauty instead of just destroying it.

At times like those, I allow my cynicism to melt away just a little, and allow myself to believe that actually, humanity might not be totally doomed. Were I rich enough, I would travel around the world to seek out the works of Raphael - no print in a book or online compares to the experience of actually seeing a painting close enough to see the brushstrokes.

Of course, seeing those paintings, I now yearn and wish for Florence. I can't win.

*

I have excellent friends, by the way. I have no idea why they put up with me, but I'm very glad they do. If I feel better, it's because of them first, Bill Hicks a distant second and Raphael thirdmost.

I suppose that the way to tell a true friend is the same as a true love- you can show your worst, your very worst qualities to them and they will still look you in the eye and care about you, love you.

I get the feeling you know, that in Friends, they all rather go their own ways after the end, no longer kept together by easy geography. I live no closer than 80 miles to my very very best friends, and it doesn't matter. I just need to scuffing remember that.

*

In other news, the Dylan movie, I'm Not There, in which like, seven people play The Bob, looks like it's either going to suck big time or rock big time. Being cynical and having seen the trailer, I'm going with the first. With someone like Dylan, I can't imagine who'd rather watch other people pretending to be him when you can watch the man himself in things like Don't Look Back.

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