I’ve put a reading of a new short story called “Good Game” onto my Bandcamp page. There is some strong effing and jeffing so best to not listen while little uns are about. Other than that… enjoy.
I don’t like the Internet all that much anymore.
See what I mean?
Now look, I know I’m writing this on the Internet and that video is on the Internet. I know. I’m not saying the Internet is Satan or anything. But it’s definitely an incredibly funny but unstable child with a fixation on stabbing and easy access to a chef’s drawer. You’ll risk getting close for a joke or two but best to keep it at arms length.
A few things have happened recently and the main culprit has been Twitter. I could go on and on about what I’ve seen but trust me. It’s been a slow drip feed of bile and nonsense.
But I tried something today. A kind of last throw of the dice if you like. Someone mentioned Brexit and Y2K in the same tweet. I found this weird because this weekend I started reading a book called “Flat Earth News” by Guardian journalist, Nick Davies. Now, remember that title, it will come into play soon.
In the book Davies talks about Y2K, the media response and the IT response. I was working in IT when Y2K happened. I was also studying journalism at the time. It gave me an unusual insight into both worlds. I spent a lot of 1997 – 2000 laughing.
So today, I expressed an opinion and then cited my most recent source, the book “Flat Earth News” by Nick Davies.
Here is my favourite reply I received today.
This person, who was on the Internet, failed to do even a cursory Google search for the very book I was citing.
My only comment to that can be: #ThisIsWhereWeAreNow A vast amount of human knowledge in the palm of your hand and you can’t even type a book name into a default search engine. Wow.
Don’t get me wrong not every conversation I had was so bad. Some were quite nice but there are kids shitting in this sandpit.
This is where we are now. In a shitty sandpit. So I’m going to the other end. Where there isn’t any shit.
I’m not quitting Twitter. It still occasionally makes me laugh and teaches me things. So I’ll tweet and retweet things I find funny or interesting and I’ll let you know of events and media I think are good. The rest of it… I’ll leave over there. It might be where we are, but I don’t want to be there anymore.
As I finished filing my tax return for last year it dawned on me… I don’t mind doing this.
Then it dawned on me how weird that thought seems to be in a world of massive corporate tax avoidance. So I did this:
Obviously I don’t mean ACAB (Google it if you’re unsure; but do it at home). But something happened today which reminded me of a kid at my school who would carve ACAB into school desks. Why did he do that and what reminded me of that?
We don’t use the word shenanigans enough.
Anyway, I’ve got an update on my problems in putting on a single bet.
I’ve been a bit busy recently with a stupid thing. I want to put a bet on my beloved and newly promoted Wolves to win the Premier League AND the Champions League within 5 years. I know some people think this is a crazy bet but hey, it’s my money.
Sadly, no bookies will accept the bet. I’ve started vlogging about my problems. Here are the first two.
I suspect more will follow.
It’s kind of crazy I had to film this in 2018. I mean, it’s kind of crazy I’d have to film this at any point in human history because I’d have thought we understood this but obviously not…
Can we stop blaming victims please? Thanks.
I’ve just completed a Twitter Purge. It felt good. Like I was stripping wallpaper and I grabbed at a small corner and the whole strip came away in one go leaving a perfectly flat bit of plaster.
The purge itself wasn’t of people I follow but my own Tweets. It’s not the first time I’ve done this and I’m aware they’re probably knocking around in archives on various websites but they’re gone from Twitter itself and that’s a good start. If you’re so desperate to know something about me you knock around on Wayback Engine then seriously, just ask me and I’ll tell you. You’ll quickly find I’m not that interesting.
So why did I delete them? Tweets always feel a little bit “of the moment”. And what’s the point in having tweets “of the moment” when the moment was 3 years ago. Oh look, I did a gig in Birmingham which was mildly important 2 years ago but of no consequence now.
It’s not the first time I’ve done this. I have a clean out every now and then. I know for some this feels like a major thing but it’s just like clearing out the drawer stuffed with underwear. Sure some of those pants meant something at some point but there’s nothing like the feeling of new under crackers, is there?
This is something I intend to do regularly from now on. And you could very well be saying, “Dave, why bother?” But we could say the same about Twitter in general, couldn’t we? We could say the same about so many things. And let’s be honest, if you have thousands of tweets how many people scroll through them? Do you scroll through either your own or other people’s? I don’t.
And yes, data mining has been back in the news lately and it feels weird that these little thoughts I had while drunk in a field in 2014 can still exist somewhere to be targeted by advertisers, political parties and three letter agencies.
Plus, maybe it means next time we meet you’ll have a means of starting a conversation. You’ll question me and we’ll talk and breezes will be shot. One of us will get liquid refreshment then the other will feel the need to reciprocate. Cake will probably be consumed. At the end we might not feel any more connected but we’ll feel it’s been a fun couple of hours talking in a social setting and our phones will have remained untouched. And we will never Tweet about it, or register our attendance at this place on Facebook or post an Instagram picture of a cake. It’ll just live in our memories… and it’ll feel special.
Or we’ll forget each other exist.
This morning I awoke to this story:
And I have to admire anyone trying to convince these drama schools to reduce their audition fees but I do find the situation futile.
We have to accept that there is every possibility they don’t want working class actors.
You see, there are two reasons for why they introduced these fees.
- They wanted to stop working class people infesting their drama schools.
- They did it for “another reason” and were too stupid to know charging a fee would discriminate against the working class.
If it’s 2 then they shouldn’t be doing that job. Chances are, it is 1. They simply do not want working class people infesting their drama schools. Imagine them coming in with their accents, comprehensive school educations and a packed lunches made by someone who isn’t an multilingual nanny.
Chances are these fees will be stopped. The current campaign will see to that. But the attitudes behind them won’t be. Behind locked doors the people who instigated these fees will still be gate keepers. Either stupid gatekeepers or prejudiced gatekeepers. But probably prejudiced.
Prejudice is prejudice is prejudice.
If you’ve been here before you’ll know things have changed… this web site for starters. There were some issues with things in the background. All round top bloke Alan who does wonderful web wonders for me moved servers and when I did I realised I hated the look of my website. I then spent a couple of days tweaking things, bashing stuff with a hammer and Googling phrases like, “Adjustment layer Gimp”. My search history is forever tainted.
So yes… brand spanking new website. Does it mean I’ll update it more often?
There’s a lot happening, you see. I don’t have a lot of time. But stuff is happening. Here is an example:
Yes, that’s a You Tube playlist of 10 poetry videos. It’s all part of project I’m involved in with the Poets, Prattlers and Pandemonialists collective. We’ve had Arts Council England funding to produce The Black Country Broadsheet. We will be handing out the broadsheet to people over the coming weeks and chances are you’ll find some knocking around your Black Country town. The broadsheet links to the videos above (you see, it’s all making sense) and we’ve even got each poet to have some pictures taken by the fabulous Nicole Lovell.
On top of that are a series of live shows featuring different poets and some open mic spots.
That’s going to be a corker of a night and we have more planned.
On top of that our PPP show is still spreading its wings. We’re in Stourbridge on Thursday 12th April 2018 at The Duke William. Tickets are £5. We’ve also got gigs in Swindon, Birmingham and somewhere else I can’t remember lined up. It’ll probably cause me to make another blog post closer to the time so it’s probably best if I don’t look them up.
In other news…
- I’ve got a one man fringe show planned for January 2019 but it’s already on draft 2 and it’s quite scary how much I have written.
- PPP are working on a new project which will be performed in November 2018.
- I’ve had a rejection letter come today which had a major typo in the first line. I don’t normally comment on typos because we all make them. But if you’re saying someone isn’t good enough you need to make sure you get it right otherwise you look like a dick. The dick.
I’m off now… until next time…