Well, whilst working on the shed roof, I watched the Morocco vs Spain game. It wasn’t the most exciting. For 90 minutes, then 30 more, the teams seemed pretty evenly matched.
I was rooting for Morocco. They played better.*
But when it went to the dreaded penalty shoot out? Then things got very interesting.
Morocco just beat Spain on penalties. And I have to say, they deserved the win. As I said above, it was not the greatest match I’ve ever seen. But Morocco dug in their heels, kept Spain under the cosh, and had the better opportunities.
This guy was a hero.
And when it came to the penalties, they were just better. They took them better, and their goalkeeper saved them better.
Achraf Hakimi’s penalty, and the celebration afterwards, were fabulous.
You could actually see it all in the player’s eyes. The Moroccans clearly wanted it, and believed they could do it. The Spanish, by contrast, were weak; you could see the doubt and fear in their faces. Astonishing!
* Oh, and I liked their kit better! I know this is silly, but sometimes I go with aesthetics.
On a separate but related note. I’m really digging this current England team. Just saw Grealish talking about facing France. The guy is as solid as his Giant Redwood tree-trunk legs. And he’s right. We have an excellent team.
With Sterling gone home, it’s interesting that the England team still have loads of firepower. France have Mbappe (ok, they also have Dembele, Griesman, etc.). But we have Kane, Saka, Foden, Henderson, Bellingham, and Pickford in goal (oh, and Grealish, lest we forget!).
That’s the spirit!
It’s unusual for me to say this, but I have faith in our team.
I was reading about the several ‘Sokal’ hoaxes recently, wherein folk (or squally scientists) have submitted fake articles to ‘critical theory’, aka Postmodernist journals, to see if these alleged organs of intellectual inquiry could be easily duped.
They’re named Sokal hoaxes because the first notable example was perpetrated by the physicist Alan Sokal…
After what seems an aeon, I’ve finally had a coincidence of time and suitable weather, and been able to get the roofing felt on.
As usual, nothing in the line of DIY is totally straightforward. I had one old roll of felt, and one new one. The old one was in a poor state, along one edge, kind of adhering to itself as I unrolled it. This caused the sheet to have a very tattered and ragged edge; fortunately along the outer side. But I was able to cover a whole strip nonetheless.
Getting the felt sheets in place.
The other roll did another two strips, with the three sufficing to cover the whole roof. I had to pop out for more roofing tacks, as I my old supply finally ran out. In the end I didn’t use the plastic sheeting. That helped keep the OSB board dry.I
had kind of wanted to have a plastic membrane under the felt. But it was too wet and dirty. So I opted not to use it. I’ll keep it, for possible future usage.
Hammer and tacks…
We also have the corrugated roofing sheets that came with the shed. The original roof! I didn’t want to just use that, as the shed was, in its previous incarnation, very damp, cold and drafty. It’s now much more hermetically enclosed.
There’s still a broken window and bit of open wall panelling to sort out. The biggest remaining jobs are putting in a floor and running electricity down the length of the garden, to supply this new workspace.
The current view from ‘up on the roof’.
I’ve spent quite a bit of time on the roof of this shed lately. I had to add the strips along the longer sides. I also added home made wood filling paste to all the joints where there was any air between boards.
Staying safe up there meant not walking in the middle of the boards, but instead sticking to the supported wall areas. I’ve had to sweep a lot of leaves, twigs, and – eugh! – guano, off the roof. I guess I’ll have to do so occasionally. If I don’t it’ll really build up.
Still clamped, even after tacking down.
I’m not 100% sure how I’ll finish the undersides of the felt, and attach it to the OSB boards. Plus I need to add a bit more cladding around the area where my new roof meets the walls. So there’s still plenty to do!
I’m also unsure as to exactly how I’ll do the floor. But that’s a job for the new year! I’d like to get the broken window and the gap in the cladding sorted. But I’m very happy to have got the roofing felt on… at last!
I have chronic conditions – psoriasis and psoriatic arthritis – that require ongoing medication. And to pay for this – in addition to the taxes we all pay* – I pay a monthly direct-debit towards a prescription pre-payment scheme.
*Or ought to, and by and large do. I my view it’s those wealthy enough to dodge such joint responsibilities that are our biggest problem.
On my last visit to the chemist, to pick up my regular prescription meds, after 5 or 6 years of never being asked for any proof, I was asked. I told them I had none, as I’d never been asked before. They told me I’d have to bring some proof next time.
I’m not sure what constitutes proof? There’s no physical document or card anymore. There used to be a card. But that’s been scrapped. Toryism shaving off another small fraction from the public purse, to give the fat cats further scope to skim off more cream. So I guess I’ll just have to print out an appropriate email, if I can find one.
The Tories have always disliked the NHS, and for decades they have been systematically butchering it. Tragically the Blair/Brown Labour govt. colluded in the expansion of rapine capitalism within the NHS, making an already dodgy situation even worse. In many ways New Labour was Tory Lite. Tragic!
There are so many layers and levels to all the ramifications of the Tory ‘only money matters’ attitude (I won’t dignify it with the term philosophy!). One of these is to make parking at NHS facilities another opportunity for parasites to drain money from NHS workers and patients.
So not only am I taxed ‘at source’, to fund all our public services, including the wonderful institution that is the NHS. But, as an ill person – something that at its rotten core (I can’t say heart, Toryism has no heart) the right equates with ‘sin’* – I have to pay two more times: once more for my prescriptions, and again, to park.
Healthcare Tory style.
* There’s a barely disguised eugenicist Spencerian thread at the base of such ideologies, itself heir to the far older superstitions of religions, and dark pre-scientific (mis)understanding, which equates illness (and even ‘ugliness’) with sin and evil; outward manifestations of inner un-Godliness. Conditions that – rather than being understood and treated with due sympathy and care – are to be denigrated and punished.
I used to actively dislike football. Or at least I tried to, for a spell. What I really disliked (and still do) are: yobbism, the tribalism of some supporters, and the grotesque capitalism that has colonised and dominates the sport.
Anyway, mini-rant over, back to the footy. And tonight it was, mercifully, enjoyable. Well, at least it was if you’re rooting for England. And (I’ll forego my rant about patriotism and jingoism!) And I was/am rooting for England.
Bellingham and Henderson celebrate goal #1.
I won’t pretend I know much about the beautiful game. But I do know that I like Gareth Southgate’s managerial style, and the crop of players he has at his disposal. One of the ITV pundits – Gary Neville? – put it well, saying Southgate was ‘compassionate’, and that his team believed in him as a leader.
I also liked the sound of the cultivation of a team spirit by watching matches together, as opposed to players disappearing into solipsistic isolation in social media and gaming consoles, etc.
Kane hoofs in goal #2.
But to the match: Senegal started strongly, getting the first two best chances. But then England gradually warmed up. And in the last ten minutes of the first half, first Henderson and then Kane (finally!) scored superbly emphatic goals.
I have to admit my attention wandered in the second half. But then I’m not the worlds most ardent footy fan. And I often tend to be doing other stuff whilst watching matches. But when Saka scored goal number three – another real peach – it brought my attention back with a bang.
Saka enjoys the glory of goal #3.
I rarely bother with the pre or post match punditry. And tonight was, in that respect, business as usual, for me; hopped into a piping hot bath, and then off to bed! But it’s nice to have been able to enjoy watching England compete internationally and acquit themselves so admirably.
Grabbing whatever moments I can – when we’re both at home and the weather’s ok, a rare combo of late – I get a little time here and there to progress work on the shed roof.
I recently extended the longer edges, which previously didn’t project over the walls. This was to make sure rain would run off, not down/through the structure. I didn’t do the best or prettiest job.
Mixing wood filler paste.Mmm… yummy!
So today I mixed a paste of wood dust, wood glue, and a little water, and filled in the seams where boards didn’t meet quite as flush as we’d have liked. Hopefully this bodge will suffice to keep the pieces together, and stop water passing through?
Filling quacks…
What a rubbish photo the above is! My excuse is that I was more concerned with getting the job done than photographing the work in progress.
It’s good to be chipping away at what is a reasonably large job, and gradually getting nearer to completion. I hope I can get the roofing felt on before the snow arrives!
Wow! This is a pretty amazing animated film. The quality of animation is terrific. Especially for its (pre CGI) era. Whilst the visual aesthetic is not immediately to my own tastes, it’s so singular and powerful it kind of sucks one in. Well, me at least, at any rate.
I discovered the existence of this movie thanks to the inclusion of some music from it on the vinyl compilation Mindbending Nuggets, which a friend had bought. This latter is a great collection of slightly obscure music, with a good selection of odd and unusual but groovily funky tracks (released in ‘97).
The basic premise of the film (itself based on a book*) is that humans, called Oms, are kept as pets by Draags, big blue red-eyed and web-eared humanoid characters. These Draags spend most their time meditating and being a bit weird.
They live on a planet, Ygam, whose look reminds one of both surrealism generally, and in particular the paintings of scientist (and surrealist painter) Desmond Morris. All organic blobbiness, but with an appropriately ‘sauvage’ spikiness.
Tiva plays with Terr.
Apparently the movie was marketed as a stoner experience, best watched in an altered state. And I can see that that might well be a good way to see it. Although personally those days are, for the most part, very much behind me now.
The music, by Alain Goraguer is terrific. It’s often compared to Atom Heart Mother era Floyd. Although, to my mind/ears, it’s far more complex, focussed and funky than the Brit-proggers.
Funky keys, wah-guitar, and lush strings and vocals create the perfect aural companion to the visuals. It’s one of those rare instances where the music stands in its own right, and is as strong as the film it accompanies.
Mmm… sexy jazz!
Above, a bit more of Goraguer’s work. I’ll prob do a post on him at some point. But for this one, let’s get back to the animated film. Which is, frankly, visually stunning.
* Based on this book:
All told, there’s something a bit odd, and slightly limp or disappointing, in the ideas or the narrative. The visual imagination and invention is terrific, but the conceptual side occasionally feels a little lame.
There’s a definite hangover of both WWII and the hippy era. The ‘de-Om’ing’, or culling of humans, clearly resembles the Nazi ‘final solution’. Most obviously so when gas releasing pellets – Zyklon B springs to mind – are used to kill Oms en masse. But in the end, and rather quickly, it’s determined that peaceful co-existence is the only way forward. And, rather abruptly (and dissatisfyingly), boom, the film ends.
It almost feels like they just ran out of either budget or ideas! Maybe not? Who knows. Either way, it’s a bit of a damp squib way to end.
Nevertheless, the sheer visual richness, and the soundtrack, make this essential viewing, in my opinion.
Just finished reading this. It’s a short and fairly easy read, albeit the prose veers between normal and ‘cut up’. Luckily there’s enough standard English to make it readable.
I’m fascinated by Burroughs. I think he’s prob’ a bit nuts, and possibly a bit of a huckster/charlatan. But he has a great command of language, and an amazingly vivid if somewhat twisted imagination.
In essence, a great deal of Burroughs writing – at least what I’ve read – is autobiographical. But rather than straightforward documentary narrative, Burroughs serves up a postmodern bouillabaisse of fevered drug-addled eroto-fantasy, interwoven with crumbling memories.
Burroughs wandering life as a trust-fund dilettante, globe-trotting in search of, essentially/frankly, thrills, and being both gay and – by dint of the latter, to some extent – Bohemian, lead him to live in all the places that crop up here: St Louis, Mexico City, London, North Africa, New York, etc.
Burroughs’ unusual outsider life – involving crime, drugs, and a sexuality that meant living not like but as an outlaw – all conspired to fuel a pretty weird fantasy world. And so The Wild Boys (and other writings) veers towards being his kind of heir to the Marquis de Sade’s vision of ultimate freedom in a melange of sex and violence.
Depending on the reader’s tastes, it can make for quite compelling and entertaining (or off-putting) reading. What it’s real merits may be, I’m very uncertain. In some ways I enjoyed this book. In others, I was disappointed.* As with much of Burroughs’ work, it’s like the somewhat choreographed dredgings of a disordered and fairly warped mind.
In some of his writings all of this is filtered through very standard prose, in others – particularly when he employs his cut up style – it’s practically unreadable. Here it’s a mixture, thankfully erring on the side of comprehensible. But the visions it describes are, well… read it. See what you think!
The book signs off ‘William S. Burroughs, London, 1969’. This was an interesting time in his life, about which you can learn more here.
Pop group Duran Duran’s hit song is named after the novel (more on this below). And I’ve read that cult gay film maker Fred Halsted was in discussions with Burroughs about making a pornographic movie of The Wild Boys. But that never came to pass, alas.
* The titular Wild Boys don’t really come to the fore till very near the end of the book. Making many of the ‘plot’ synopses of this work I’ve seen seem way too glib/conventional.
Notes
I made the following notes as I read the book. I forgot to do so for two chapters, so those are in [brackets]!
CHAPTER / Remarks / score Tio Maté Smiles - Cinematic surrealist Mexico City sleaze… **1/2 The Chief Smiles - Moroccan death sleaze … *** Old Sarge Smiles - St Louis nun-sleaze, with a sprinkling of racism… **1/2 Bury the Bread - Audrey moons, Old Sarge rants; a psychedelic melange… *** Penny Arcade Peep Show #1 - Funfair surreal gay sex dreams ***1/2 Le Gran Luxe - Big swanky party surreal gay sex dreams ***1/2 [Penny Arcade PS #2 - I forget!] [Miracle Rose - … er? Something to do with anii… & ‘rectal mucous’!?] Silver Smile - Frankie & Johnny gay sex dreams **** Frisco Kid - Klondike gay sex dream ***1/2 Penny Arcade PS #3 - Cinematic cut & paste Dead Child - Golf course gay sex dreams morph into shaman jungle dream *** Call Me Joe - Defection from the straight army to the Wild Boys **1/2 Mother & I - Perverts vs Police State: ‘Our aim is total chaos’. Wild Boys eroto-horror… *** Wild Boys - The title finally addressed… more of the same [gay sex dreams]… **1/2 Penny Arcade PS #4 - Tree-house-boat gay sex dream ***1/2 Penny Arcade PS #5 - Assassin gardener **1/2 Wild Boys Smile - Arrival, more of the same [gay sex dreams]… The End ***
FOOTNOTE:
The Duran Duran song, The Wild Boys, is of little or no interest to me, particularly musically, in itself. But it is a little intriguing inasmuch as it was supposed to be the theme song to another mooted attempt at making the book into a film. The ‘songfacts’ website says:
‘Duran Duran recorded the song because Russell Mulcahy, who directed their videos, bought the movie rights to the book and planned to make it into a film. The band wrote the song for the movie, which was never made. At the time, this was the most expensive video ever made.’
