This guy has made a WordPress Plugin that’s a fully working PacMan game to celebrate 30 years of Pacman…. (link here). So happy birthday, Pacmen! I remember it and Space Invaders very well, and the loathing I had for their incessant racket in waiting rooms and taxi booking offices all over the North-East.
…and following on from the previous post, here’s a recently provided scan from Holly of a (now defunct) Sounds magazine (four star!) review of the vinyl LP, Waqqaz, by Crawling Chaos, back in June 1986, when I was in France.
Quoting Dave Henderson;
THE CRAWLING CHAOS ‘Waqqaz’ (Foetus Products F4) ****
AND CHAOS came back again. Former Factory workers ex-eccentrics from the wild North East, The Crawling Chaos are still alive, being driven barmy by the ineptitude of their drum machine and turning in classic songs.
It’s a bumpy unpredictable road between the simple worlds of Der Plan, Throbbing Gristle, the Dr Who theme and the primal Factory sound, but all and sundry were fed into the Chaos cut price computer. The result coughs and splutters with a truly odd musical catarrh.
Of course, in this case, the worst possible thing for me, is being on the same page as a Genesis review…
It’s Just Like Bladerunner, And Not Just the Weather!
Tears in Rain
Just Like Bladerunner? This morning's View.
Bladerunner, the movie, based on an old Philip K Dick science-fiction story, was made by Ridley Scott from North-East England, someone I’m distantly related to. Made in 1982, it presents a very grey, wet, bleak future, heavily referencing Scott’s (and my own!) upbringing of wide, breathtaking Northumbrian vistas, interspersed with the constant oppression of continuous rain in a dense urban landscape. It’s a metaphor for the continuous duality of freedom and slavery.
Back in 79-80, when Jeff and I made Crawling Chaos’ Sex Machine, I saw it as a neat tune, with our comically scientific words slapped on top. The words humorously refer to a future of gene control and designer-led bodies. Because humans are so sexually fixated, we postulated that this may become the be-all and end-all of most technology, with real work for the betterment of mankind taking second spot. And of course, the more sex, then the more sexually transmitted diseases (STD) there’ll be. It’s all in the words.
Amazingly, apart from the flying cars and an army of androids, the world is very much like Bladerunner. Floods (like the recent ones in the UK, and 2007, and 2005 etc), storms, heatwaves, blizzards, insect plagues, species extinction. The whole world has had them in increasingly bizarre locations and strengths.
And yet while disasters hit us, those in The West, certainly, are more concerned with celebrity gossip and inane personal acquisitions. The pursuit of the self.
The scientists trying to model vast climatic changes are ridiculed for doing so as their words are endlessly quoted out of context by the vested interests of the climate-change-sceptic lobby. All science indeed is held in contempt by the ignorant classes, except if it can be used for sex or death.
Pudenda and Hymen
Remarkably, there’s now a huge cosmetic industry devoted to amending women’s pudenda to some ‘ideal look’ more akin to pre-pubescent girls!
Now, in a neat twist on Barry Bucknell‘s DIY skills, there are online designs and instructions so that anyone can make their own sex machine…. a machine-driven giant cock with a flywheel! Ordinary dildos are not enough! For males there is an army of sucking machines of various types.
Even more bizarrely, women are now having their hymen repaired – just so that they can be filmed having it ‘broken’ again for the porn industry. And then they get it repaired again! So it can be filmed being broken, again.
Men have penis inserts and painful extensions both mechanical and physically while parliament is petitioned for the ‘rights’ of non-breeding couples to be somehow mated and made to conceive children.
Breast implants and augmentation are hardly worth mentioning, they are so commonplace.
Ordinary Sex Machine
All of these things are done to ordinary people. They are not deformed or burned like some WW2 fighter pilot or Elephant Man.
They are just ordinary folk.
So what is it about ordinary people that makes so many want to be less-ordinary, sexually? They are not sex slaves, but are slaves to sex, so much so that peer kudos is their sole reason for existence.
Tears in Rain
For me, our song Sex Machine does not sound so odd now, despite the ignorant comments made towards it. And Bladerunner now seems so prophetic, it’s scary.
Rutger made up the line “Tears in Rain” on the spur of the moment. It was unscripted and has become one of the most famous lines in film.
A 55-year old Japanese monk writes a letter to a proud, hot-headed Samurai warrior who has the absolute right to cut his head off with but a moment’s notice, (swish!), almost without reason.
The Samurai know all about honour and don’t like to be lectured by anyone, especially those that are considered inferior, like fish gutters….
The monk writing the letter, Nichiren, came from a fish-gutting family. A bit like a Cullercoats fishwife from my part of the North-East of England..
This is part of the letter that the fish gutter wrote to the Samurai…
It is rare to be born a human being. The number of those endowed with human life is as small as the amount of earth one can place on a fingernail. Life as a human being is hard to sustain- as hard as it is for the dew to remain on the grass. But it is better to live a single day with honour than to live to 120 and die in disgrace. Live so that all the people of Kamakura will say in your praise that Nakatsukasa Saburo Saemon-no-jo is diligent in the service of his lord, in the service of Buddhism, and in his concern for other people. More valuable than treasures in a storehouse are the treasures of the body, and the treasures of the heart are the most valuable of all. From the time you read this letter on, strive to accumulate the treasures of the heart! – Nichiren Daishonin, The Three Kinds of Treasure (WND 1, p851). Written to Shijo Kingo on September 11, 1277
From the time that Nichiren decided to speak out for common-sense and against injustice, Nichiren was persecuted almost until the end of his life. During this time, he transcribed his thoughts and wrote letters to people, much of which survives to this day in his hand, or as copies by his immediate associates. Much of his work he wrote in an informal “peoples” script, not the educated hand-writing of the ruling classes. This was so that his message could be heard and used by the masses, not hidden away as a secret to be guarded by an elite.
Last week I arrived in Croydon to a week’s worth of knife deaths, convictions and escapes. It seemed that the whole place was a blood-bath. In examining them closely, some deaths were national news – and deservedly so, but mostly, there is no world outside of London for all the meeja types.
A quote on last week’s “Question Time” made me jump. Apparently the worst place in Britain for knifing is Glasgow, not some London Borough. It’s twice as bad!
I was making this point to nice old lady from St Ives on the way home on the train – specifically relating to the high incidence of tornadoes and waterspouts (you had to be there) running up the Bristol Channel into Bridgwater and Somerset. Having seen several myself, they are quite common, but never reported on the national news despite recent severe damage in Bridgwater and Burnham. Jillian Greenwood’s poetry book “Western Tornadoes” is so titled for precisely these reasons. This compares to the one in London last year.
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