Every quarter I get, and devour, a copy of Rabbiting On from the excellent Rabbit Welfare Association, and I’m always struck how it’s like those low-grade “womens” magazines with a happy smiley lady on the cover surrounded by the darkest of headlines. Aw, cute bunny! Oh, intestinal worms…
Partial solar eclipse, 29 March 2025, 11:53am, Birmingham UK.
Every few years I listen to The Stone Roses' I Am The Resurrection and am gobsmacked by how good it really shouldn’t be. The raw ingredients are baggy indie disco nonsense but something (chutzpah?) drags it to immortal genius. I also love the fadeout, implying it could, no, should go on forever.
It’s nearly 10 years since Kenneth Goldsmith wrote It’s a Mistake to Mistake Content for Content, his essay on Vilém Flusser which so radically informed my thinking about [gesticulates wildly] that I’d probably consider it the most consequential thing I’ve read.
I was reminded of it when reading the excellent AI Slop Is a Brute Force Attack on the Algorithms That Control Reality, the conclusions of which I think Goldsmith explains through Flusser wonderfully well.
UbuWeb is archiving avant-garde artifacts again.
In a moment when our collective memory is being systematically eradicated, archiving reemerges as a strong form of resistance… Together we can prevent the annihilation of the memory of the world.
Darryl Cunningham’s books were a question on University Challenge this week. 1990s zine Pete did not see that coming. Next week I’m expecting: “Luke Walsh’s 1992 work Weird Astral Detective Fiction features the Silver Ghost, the Green Ghost and which other colour ghost?”
We’ll see how it pans out, but Liz Kendall was quite specific about the changes to PIP and it would appear I will no longer be eligible for my disability benefit from 2026. I have post-viral chronic fatigue, barely leave the house and a trip to the supermarket sees me bedridden for 36 hours.
The CF specialist at Birmingham hospital reckons I’ll be like this for 5 years and any recovery is predicated on minimal exertion, even if I feel capable. I cannot “work” even if I want to (and I do).
I won’t be drinking this abomination a visitor left in our tea cupboard but I am grateful for the Fall earworm.
🎶 They were rooibos oranj. Brrrp ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba.
Woke up on the sofa, saw this, thought “that’ll make a good photo”.
I appear to be watching Oscar nominated movies this last week or so.
A Real Pain ★★★★★ Just gorgeous. I saw myself in both the cousins and wanted to give them a big hug.
Anora ★★★★☆ Felt a bit uncomfortable watching it but in hindsight that was the point. Nicely ambiguous, and I need to see his back catalogue now.
The Substance ★★★★☆ A wild fucking ride. Am amazed this got nominated for anything. Will be thinking about it for a while.
Conclave ★★★☆☆ Entertaining nonsense with a stacked cast but pretty lightweight and unmemorable.
My neighbour makes these neat little film analysis video edits and the latest is particularly clever.
Decided last night that since peanuts are botanically a fruit and potatoes in French are “apples of the earth”, a bowl of crisps and nuts is effectively a fruit salad and therefore a healthy pudding.
The Guardian has a multi-page excerpt of Becky Barnicoat’s new book on the reality of motherhood and it pulls no punches.
A three page strip by Art Spiegelman (author of Maus) and Joe Sacco (author of Palestine et al). When I heard this was coming I was expecting a book, but while this is slight it probably says enough.
Art Spiegelman: Disaster Is My Muse review
The reviews are coming in and this one on Roger Ebert is very positive. “A remarkably cogent and compelling presentation not just of Spiegelman’s life story but also his personality and art.”
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After I was signed off long term with chronic fatigue syndrome last year we applied for PIP, a government benefit. Today I got a message saying we’d been successful and it would be awarded, details to follow. The whole process was incredibly stressful so this is quite the relief.
Also, this means I’m now officially “disabled” in the eyes of the state, which is something to process.
Can You Put Dead Animals In Compost?
In short, yes, sensibly, but it’s not really worth it. (I’ve chucked the odd dead mouse and a drowned bird found in the water butt in mine - just made sure they were buried in the middle).
A lovely comic by Scott Finch who I came across randomly the other day and wish I could remember from where. More here.
Apotris is what Tetris looks like in the 2020s. I played the original DOS version back in 1990 or whenever until I saw blocks in my sleep. I’m shite now but this was surprisingly good fun.
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The Covid Alarmists Were Closer to the Truth Than Anyone Else
Not that it will make any difference to the prevailing consensus reality, and I’m not sure it makes me feel any better, but still, good to know, I guess?
A profile of Linder, whose art appeared on the cover of of the Buzzcock’s Orgasm Addict, to mark a long overdue retrospective of her work. Fascinating.
Am loving TCJ’s Edward Gorey week. This deep dive analysis of a 26 page alphabetical bestiary goes hard.
The Ippagoggy’s presumably fiendish face is hidden behind a flurry of paper. This page demonstrates the way a single-panel cartoon can imply sequentiality without satisfying its attendant expectations, like a melody without a resolving note.
I’ve been using hot spicy noodles from the East Asian supermarket for medicinal purposes (they do wonders for my sinus pain) but hadn’t tried this brand before. Reader, they are TOO HOT. Be warned. Epic pain, like needles on my lips.
My family’s curious correspondence with Edward Gorey
A delightful account of being a teenage pen-pal with Gorey
Over time, we discussed a range of topics: the Moors murders, the benefits provided by a ha-ha, Gustave Doré’s views about the London slums, Lillian Gish in The Wind, Japanese ghost behaviour in the Edo era, spirit photography, London’s cheap bookstores, Rudolf Nureyev’s feet, illicit dissections and why green wallpaper had killed Victorians.
TCJ is doing a series of features on Gorey for his centenary.
