As February approaches, and I have just over a month to find myself a new, satisfying and well-paid job to occupy my time, my mind is increasingly turning to SXSW. I’m desperately pining to attend – I don’t know that I can cope with everyone writing about what a laugh it was – but I just can’t see how I could do it. The cost is just too severe – there’s airfare for a start, which alone I could probably manage, but then there’s transport to Austin, hotels for three or four nights, the cost of the conference itself, and that’s before I’ve even started drinking. It seems bizarre to me that I can afford to go and visit Kerry and Sean in LA next month (flight only) for a week, but I can’t scrape together the money for Austin (which is nearer) for three days.
• (to David Gentle): I don’t think you come across as a dork in e-mail at all, although you sure do send a lot of it! And the reason that Waterstones don’t have a proper comics selection seems clear to me – the image of the shop is built around popularising reading as a cultural rather than purely entertaining activity, and as ever with people with pretensions, they are unable to tell the difference between what they find interesting and thrilling and what they think they should find interesting and thrilling.
• (to Zenith): Christ alone knows why you find the Underground so intoxicating, old chap, but it’s happened to a lot of other apparently intelligent and creative people, something that I feel tremendously happy about.
• (to Darren Shrubsole): Yes, on occasion I have been heartily pissed off with weblogging. These things ebb and flow – when you are writing stuff that you find entertaining or important or interesting then it all seems instinctive and satisfying. At other times it seems like a grinding drag – fighting to find words to say. It’s worth sticking at, though, because it’s become such a staple part of my life that I can’t imagine being without it. As to your other question, my plans for barbelith.com seldom get implemented because of time restraints, but at the moment it goes something like this – a webzine on the front which integrates completely with the discussion forum with attached weblogging columnists. From that stage, an anti-advertising server (joint project with Matt, and then free web-mail with barbelith.net addresses. Or something like that.
Next!
I received a referral today from Google via Yahoo!. Someone had typed in “load urge rectum girl”. I was, of course, the first result. Which fills me with worry. Am I fulfilling the needs of the Load Urge Rectum Girl community? Are they satisfied with the information on my site? How can I turn their initial browsing into a recurrent user pattern? Will they become a repeat visitor? Oh, user behaviour analysis is so very tiring…
Art Collective Sues Dot-Com For Trademark Infringement
In what might possibly be the most superbly postmodern twist to a wonderfully subversive story, etoy is suing the arse off etoys.
“Etoy, which may be the world’s only artists’ collective with a business plan, alleges that because it was around before eToys, the toy retailer should not be allowed to use a similar name that could be confused with its own.”
• (to Nick Cornwell): No, dear chap, I was not ‘pulling your pisser’, and should you wish to know what the conversation was about, then merely scroll further down the page.
• (to Whalen Toni): Yes I have indeed read slash fan fiction. Back in the mists of time I used to spend a lot of time over at alt.tv.er, uk.media.tv.er and alt.fan.noah-wyle, which is where I first stumbled upon the phenonemon. I have to confess that I find the idea of women getting turned on by writing about men having sex with each other slightly strange (I assume this is the point). Most of the women I talk to swear that this does nothing for them. Well it certainly does something to me… There is a particularly interesting (and well written) series about Dr John Carter (from ER) and Skinner (from the X-files) which everyone should read immediately. If anyone has the URL I’ll link to it ASAP.
• (to Marshall): Until this point, my feelings of inadequacy did not apply to Furbies, but now you have pointed out that said creatures can launch into a thousand languages while running on an Energizer battery, I feel crushed and pointless as a human being. Thanks a lot.
Spread the word. I want it on all of your sites by the end of the day: “Backslapping Wank for the 21st Century: Vote plasticbag.org for Anti-Bloggies ‘Most Banal Content’!”
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Campaign Supporters: Not Enough Of Me
Tom Coates Explains Everything
• (to PJ Gallagher): Your impulse to eat corn dogs and grape juice is more likely (in my humble opinion) the cause of your shit days than a result of them.
• (to Kylie): The official plasticbag.org line on queercompany is that anything that aggravates Middle England is OK with me, but that I am interested to see whether or not the image of two men kissing is more offensive to the masses than women getting it on.
• (to Kali): No, strudel is beyond my meagre talents in the kitchen, I’m afraid. I think I missed out on many of the important gay genes that make you able to decorate effectively and not fart in public. The straight men who are not completely insensitive to a woman’s feelings (like my mate Nick) have an evolutionary advantage and will gradually erase homo crapulence from the planet. You have my word.
Thanks to Matt for posting the Geographical Tube Map – I’ve been wanting to see one of these for years. Now if they’d make it a multi-layered operation with an overlay of London streets on it, then it would be incredibly useful.
1990: Travelling around America aged 18, Tom has bought himself an ironic Mickey-Mouse cap.
1993: Travelling around Europe by rail aged 21, Tom has grown his hair ironically long.
1994: At his graduation aged 22, Tom ironically makes a pass at a completely uninterested classmate.
1995: Living alone in his first year as a postgraduate, Tom takes to wearing tight shirts that used to belong to his grandfather. Ironically.
1996: In Bath, Tom develops an ironic overbite and a Brideshead Revisited look.
1997: At a friend’s party in Bristol, Tom appears with a nice hair-cut and an ironic goatee beard.
2000: Our long journey comes to an end. Look how far Tom has progressed in life! Stick out that ironic tongue, Tom! You know we love it!
2002: And now some later additions: With loony stary eyes! Being ironically creepy-looking! Check it out – my eyes move in opposite directions!
2003: A trip to Helsinki leaves Tom contemplating a simpler life as a fisherman:
2004: A few months of systematic hair-growth (my hairdresser refusing to cut my locks) leaves Tom looking like an ironic tramp or a cult leader.
