I find it ridiculous to eat in a (normally) overpriced restaurant with your hands. Eating foodstuffs with your hands in a public place normally involves such hearty fare as fish and chips, pies, burgers and fried chicken; foodstuffs that are often of dubious quality.
Sometimes its better to let the artificial commotion surrounding new releases settle down before deciding to listen to, read, or watch something. I've just started to read Dickens for the first time ever, and by today's standards, I'm already 170 years late on doing that.
Frankly, the music, the preponderance of olives on the menu, the shit art and over-use of galvanized metal in the furnishings, even the idiotic people themselves can carry on with my blessing. I am - contrary to popular received wisdom – a tolerant chap.
One acquaintance told me that after posting an article on (of all things) chair design, he was told where to go in no uncertain terms; doubtless by some obsessive chair design malcontent. I mean, why get upset about chairs?
Sorry we were away for a little while
We missed out on the Polyphonic Spree, due to extreme drunkenness, which actually may be a good thing, as we could have lost half of our editorial team to their ranks had the meeting gone ahead…
Mr Jon Dekel, flies in to celebrate his 21st birthday on the Lowlands weekend with all his Incendiary chums.
His hair is dyed an unseemly shade of metallic yellow, and his clothes look like they have been stolen from the deceased.
Booze, bands and a frisbee. What more do you need?
Haldern Festival. Germany. 5/6 August. We're going and so should you!
Metropolis; a festival where a drummer who shall not be named said that his favourite rodent was a cat........ Hmm...
A scorching month behind us bodes well for the rest of the summer festivals does it not?
Cats, furthermore, do it in much more manageable portions, which also seem to calcify at a much brisker rate. In a nutshell, cats know they are responsible for their own shit.
Lights were dimmed in most Amsterdam night-spots this month
We've had an interesting month to say the least starting with the shenanigans on Bevrijdingsdag
It all started with an email to some friends.
The last of the good, kind, honest and wise people left should come with me now, adorn their brows with garlands of wild roses and prepare themselves by drinking the annointed mead out of the blessed cups, prepare libations to their ancestors, pour sweet, fragrant oils on the ceremonial pyre prepared for them, and leave this Age of Idiocy.