Marching Forth: March 2026 in Review

MUSIC

'All To You' - Ellen McIlwaine (1973)

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'The Slide' - Tall Dwarfs (1991)

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'Black and Blues - Bobbie Humphrey' - Tall Dwarfs (1973)

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'Yellow Roses' - Heron (1970)

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'Don't You Know' - Jan Hammer Group (1977)

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'Inbetweenies' - Ian Dury (1979)

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'Sea of Nothing' - Drugdealer (2016)

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'Hymn' - Kevin Ayers (1973)

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READ

W H Smiths' Pocket Crossword

Assembly - Natasha Brown (2021)

A Confederate General From Big Sur - Richard Braughtigan (1965)

SHORT WATCHES

LONG WATCHES

MISCELLANEOUS

A Cul-de-Sac of Indecision: February 2026 in Review

Posted 10 March 2026

MUSIC

I now look like this again ↑ Something had to give, and I think it was the weather. I'm too pleased to have much to say on the subject.

Albums

Bundle of Joy - Land Of Loops (1997)

Dark Sunrise - Rikki Ililonga, Musi-O-Tunya (1975)

Destiny Street Demos - Richard Hell (1982)

Songs

Hurt So Good - Susan Cadogan (1976)

ASHKENAZY WHO? - Akiko Yano (1981)

Hell Rules - Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 (1988)

It's Not The Worst I've Looked - Lali Puna Remix - Two Lone Swordsmen, Lali Puna (2005)

Ode - CCFX (2017)

Charles Jr - Jorge Ben Jor, Trio Mocoto (1970)

Sanctuary - Bill Orcutt (2024)

Checking Out The Way I Feel - Yvonne Archer (1983)

I Guess The Lord Must Be In New York City - Harry Nilsson (1969)

That Hat - Peter Gordon and LOLO (1986)

READ

Lost my winning streak from last month I'm afraid.

I Dreamed I was a Very Clean Tramp - Richard Hell (2013)

Finally got roud to reading the autobiography of this big creep. I’ve had a longstanding affection for Richard Hell because he fits my annoying penchant for people who a common brand of music men disdain for superficiality (Eg. Tom Verlaine VS Richard Hell, Lennon/McCartney VS George, Joe Jonas VS Nick). It’s as great as an autobiography can be in exposing the alarming psyche of the writer, all the while they think you are just getting the scoop on their surroundings. His stream of consciousness makes for some undeniably comedic vignettes, for example, when describing the gardens of his late grandmothers’ nursing home, “The flowers had that unconscious bounty that makes you understand how women get compared to flowers. Gratitude welled in me for the pure generosity of flowers, not unlike the way I’ve been known to feel about a passing, unknown woman's breasts inside her sweater.” and thus the horticultural talk continues as if uninterrupted. This structure from unrelated observation to sexual divulgence that should be tortured out of you and right back to the original unrelated topic was my favourite thing to watch fold out and back in on itself. It is comprised mostly of horrifying descriptions of the various female fellow artists, or “species of girlfriend” he encountered. Perhaps an alternative format could have been to simply list the encounters with the names redacted and have readers guess the talented subject. Let’s try now: “a natural-born sex waif and a pretty-assed comedian” who would step out “all casual, if in-your-face, and jack out mind and body gush, giggling at herself … begging to be fucked, skinny as a rod, massive tits deceptively draped” . If you guessed Patti Smith, you were correct. It’s summed up nicely by a quote by Rachel Kushner that your interest in this book other than as a the warped diary of a man who's mental age never matured past adolecence depends on whether or not you believe that charisma is a form of intelligence. I spose I don’t. And if I see him posting up with another 20 year old on his knee clutching the reissue of his gay-poet-road-novel ‘Godlike’ I will have to report it.

Brave New World - Aldous Huxley (1932)

Spoke to my grandma about this and she was all like "ewww it's just terrible, they shouldn't be conducting the world like that", and I was only a couple chapters in so honestly I was a bit like gawd gma you're so square no need to squirm at the thought of a zippy leotard and contraceptive belt. I thought the writing was very rich and ripe for slurping up at first in it's world building but once they helicoptered out to John the Savage, I too felt a bit lost. For a dystopian novel from the perspective of the hyper-sheltered, the depiction of the "savage" world felt all too similar to books they make you read in English Lit where you feel the "unfamiliar" setting isn't being represented in it's fullness thanks to the unreliable racist narrator. Perhaps on purpose, but I felt it lost its lucidity for long chunks.

SHORT WATCHES

Polly II: Plan for a Revolution in the Docklands - Anja Kirschner (2006)

Solid Gold Tracy Beaker acting and flood edits. The portrayal of the Isle of Dogs I have been waiting for all my life. Watch this , and suddenly it's a documentary.

Good Taste Made Bad Taste - Tony Hiles (1988)

Watched this with no knowledge of him being Lord of The Rings guy.

Hey is Dee Dee Home?- Lee Kowalski (2002)

Just him talking in his funny voice for an hour. Would a dragons' drug of choice be glue?

Transformer AIDS - Paper Tiger Television (1988)

Regan adresses AIDS. More to come below...

Refuge @ Four Corners

Apologies none of these are available online but are certainly worth looking out for in future reference.

Two Hinges and a January King - Joe Rosen (2000) - Shots of homemade greenhouses in allotments overlayed with the flexes of one of their rightfully boastful creators. Heartwarming and even better to be viewed next to a fly-tipped-carpenter extroadinaire.

Notun Din- Simon Ashdown (1986) - Mini documentary about Notun Din, a weekly Bengali Community Newspaper that ran out of Whitechapel/Shoreditch, I believe starting in the 80s. Great perspective of my beloved Tower Hamlets, with clips of the editor in his local cafe where he talks about how he hears of many stories from people notifying him over his morning coffee.

What's The Future for Harringay? - Andrew McTaggart (1974) - They really had some amusing people working for the council back in the day, floral kipper ties et al. Refreshing to spend so much time talking about local provisions which you might at first dismiss as trivial but that's just what the man has taught you to think to distract from the fact we don't have any. I will watch anything that includes my chapel of choice - The Wood Green Mall. Loved to see the original mock up promotional-technolopolis models of the architecture. Was it ever what they wanted?

LONG WATCHES

School Daze (1988)

I see that this gets criticism because it has it fingers in a lot of pies and perhaps doesn't commit/do justice to a selected objective. Certainly tackling "Old Hollywood" style musical numbers, typical college flick frats and divesting from apartheid South Africa are heavy plates to spin. That being said, I feel like it works because it rings true to how high school/college students have the channels of their passionate interests constantly flicking. The way that the incredible dance numbers just cut back to dialogue felt sudden but also reflected that feeling in school where you were balancing your obessive fantasies with movements bigger than yourself alongside your trivial everyday qualms. You get lost in them for a second and then you return. You can't be one thing all at once, particularly at that age - I think it was great! So that is certainly an objective acheived. Arguably simplified portrayalof women also ringing true to this age lol. Shoutout as always to neverwatchingmovies.

Jawbreaker (1999)

Some good old fashioned evil baddies vs lovely goodies. Fern was a baddie (of the other variety) before and after. I understand now why I was never allowed those sweets, you're much better off with a roll-on-style brain licker. Sequel idea perhaps? or toxic waste... They could've explored the choker-horror route more during the boyfriend popsicle blowjob scene. Probably better than Heathers and definitely better than Mean Girls.

Born In Flames (1983)

Took me a while to get into the rhythm but once I laid eyes on the hand sequence (cling film chicken legs → put condomon penis → wash culery → lay out dentist tools → etc.), I was like, yeah it's genius. and to this song ? Consider me radicalised. An artifact of Raegans America that still feels inspiring and more radical than so much we've been taught to be grateful for since. Arty Facts.

Palindromes (2004)

Insane concept - same teen pregnancy storyline with each scene featuring a different actor as the protagonist. Made me feel quite uncomfortable and apprrehensive in a way that I was impressed by while simulatenously making it difficult to finish. You are consantly having to rewire your brain alomg the tracks of the storyline so that you don't feel alienated from the people onscreen. At the same timeit just proves the more obvious point that it could happen to anyone you know, and it's awkward. You can't get too attatched so you feel uncomfortable by the combination of emotional issue and lack of bearings. It's certainly dreamlike but I get the feeling that the awkwardness would make for amusement to a future or past version of myself, instead for now, I just felt mildly offended. Definitely one I will need to watch again.

Bad Taste (1987)

It's not just Jermaine Clement, I really do love New Zealand. The documentary is essential viewing prior to the feature. Strong start with the parents describing how they'd put on a big pot of beans for "the boys"and how they respected the "oodles of patience" required for stop motion. They're a lovely couple and you can just imagine him being all embarassed that all his friends with clerical day jobs are spending their weekends reenacting games from childhood meanwhile his parents are sweeping under their feet and bringing through a tray of biccies. Goes to show truly great things can happen under these conditions- it's not just the glamorous extremes of budget and independance or fighting struggle. They made lots of great food references actually - like when they would have to have sausage because he was baking monster heads in the oven. So cool to watch the film knowing all the tricks, like the celluloid pinhole gun shots, knife pipe for bloody holes and the sponge mallet. Fabulous ending with the spinning house (acheived by putting a model of it on the turntable). Genuinely gripped by the walky-talkie storyline.

MISCELLANEOUS

Inaugral (Vegan) Borscht

Made my first ever (Vegan) Borscht. It's a crime it's taken this long considering the combo of my two fav flavours, cabbage and vinegar. Shoutout to the Eastern European section of the Whitechapel Sainsbury's for the Paluszki's that kept us going. Defo to be served with creme fraiche. Unfortunately I don't have a pic of it's gorg colour - only of my sous chef.

Jizz Attack

A Sunday night like any other. Popcorn resigned to the murky depths of the blue barrel. A gaggle of tween boys dart up the stairs. Using the toilets perhaps? Pocket money doesn't suffice for their wide cultural appetite? Fair enough. That is, until shouts erupt from the screen, bespectacled millennials stagger out clutching at jean legs shouting,”We’ve been hit”. At first glance the white sticky mucusish consistency is registered. The second to register is the remarkable smell - that indistinguishable savers aisle scent. This was certainly no bodily fluid, nor was it ingestible. Sweeping the screen after the film, I found the weapons that had seemingly been flung off the balcony onto the stage below. Loreal Paris Elvive Hydra Hyaluronic Moisture Boosting Shampoo for dehydrated hair* and Herbal Essences Reparative Argan Oil Conditioner**. They say get the kids off their phones but then they hate to see them pulling some good old fashioned japes. Nevermind my follicles (needles to say I took the weapons home for some worthwhile usage - review soon?), it was my faith in the next generation that was restored.

*up to 72H moisture. RRP £8.00

** 96% natural origin. RRP £6.00

RIP KHole

Bore witness to the last ever night of Kingsland Road institution, the K Hole. Did so in the form of the Troxy work do, during which we claimed our unfamilarity to be down to our role as underappreciated bar staff (to which managers and sound engineers gave sympathetic nods and belated greetings). Definitely got in the yearbook picture. Had the honour of singing the last song of it's tenure, Madonna's "Like A Prayer". Didn't do the place justice but anything to stop another wimpy Cigarettes After Sex number.

Yorkshire Sculpture Park

Ventured up North for my grandma's birthday and stopped in here on the way. My God, how haven't I been here before. Definitely feelslike one of those places that wouldspring to mind when you were in the dentists chair as a kid and they'd say think of a happy place. Could've would've should've and shall spentthe whole day there, but managed to walk down the river route where this warped head appearedlooking out over the water. Really magical thing of dreams. I willbe back and hopefully sooner than in daydreams.

It’s 8:30. Do you know where your brains are?

Exhibition of Paper Tiger Television programmes at Goldsmiths CCA. Plenty of telly's to watch on and (perhaps my favourite) the original tapestry backdrops that would appear on shows. Mix of documentary, faux-news and the pariculalry popular "readings of", ecah ended with a proclomation of the episode's proce breakdown. Doing a (famously dubbed wishy-washy) Communications degree you really forget what the word means, but watching this brings it back into perspective. Some genius uses of green screen (eg. as a mask?) that I will totally be copying. There is so much to watch - if I lived in New Cross (like all the kids these days amiright) I'd be back, but the archive of their shows is also available online and I shall put it below. Hallelujah!

HONOURABLE MENTIONS GO TO ACCIDENTAL SUPPER CLUBS, THE GYPSY WEDDING HELD AT HARROGATE MAJESTIC, VALENTINES BIG BOMBAY AND MY ABILITY TO HUM ON DEMAND. DISHONOURABLE MENTION GOES TO BEING ESCORTED OUT OF SPOONS AND CLASSIC MATINEE ATTENDEES HATING ON MY BISCUIT SELECTIONS.

CLICK ON THESE

Anya and Millie's Radio Show

DO judge a record by its cover. King Missile mentioned.

Doll Archives

Awesome Art Compiled.

Paper Tiger TV Archive

What a wealth.

Start-As-You-Mean-To-Go-On? January 2026 in Review

Posted 04 February, 2026

MUSIC

I'm still in a real funk (more to come on this word later...) with music which is a shame because I'm used to it being like expanding foam to fill cavities of various sizes in my life. I can honestly say these entries were the only real contendors - no stiff competition to behold. One artist, one album, one single (+ Larry).

↑ At least I can offer this cute cellist GIF to make it worthwhile in honour of my saving grace of the month. ↑

'Barefoot in New York' - Arthur Russell (rel. 2019)

I've chosen this song in particular because it was the catalyst that immediately made me put Arthur Russells' biography on my Christmas list. Stammering over broken shoes, sirens and regretful offerings at a buddhist lecture then swirled into an allegorical cycle. When I listened to it, I felt I must stop what I was doing to walk through the verses with him, it all felt quite profound in a way I couldn’t put my finger on so I wanted to deduce whether this man was really was a mystic mentor or if I was simply being swept away by the hypnosis of the sounds themselves. Listening to old favourites like ‘Janine’ and ‘List of Boys’ as well as some ones I only found about through the book like ‘Is It All Over My Face’ (can't believe I only recently got the innuendo) and ‘Let’s Go Swimming’. Reading the book alongside listening to his output has shed a new light, like with the amazing 'That's Us/Wild Combination' which is about the pictures his family would take of themselves huddled on the lawn in the early hours before embarking on a roadtrip into nature.

'Daddy's Gonna Tell You No Lie / A Foggy Day' - Sun Ra (1983)

In the early mornings, I can easily become irate at the sound of most music, a bad association that I can trace back to the torture I subjected myself to between year 6-9 of waking up to the sound of Capital FM on my CD player. The percussion just sets the metronome of my brain at a nice rhythm, jolly without feeling like I'm being expected to cheer up.

Diamond Jubilee - Cindy Lee (2024)

Two hours and 32 songs, thisplays out more like a mysterious radio station than an album, spontaneous and a little haunted. I listen to it all the time absent mindedly so its come to feel like the musac of my brain as the lines between songs become more blurred as the record saunters on.

Larry Norman (1947-2008)

OK this is a silly one but I just wanted to store these quotes somewhere. Larry was a founding father of Christian Rock with the motto “Why should the devil have all the good music?” It's his righteous but playful approach to preaching that strikes me more than the music itself, although I remain partial to UFO (of course, the “unidentified flying object” in the chorus is God). Another favourite lyric includes, “My phone is tapped, my lips are chapped from whispering through the fence.” His last blog post, the day before his death read, “I feel like a prize in a box of Cracker Jacks with God's hand reaching down to pick me up.”

↑PS. Here Larry is as a lion, levitating and on a new desertous planet with fresh dip dye.↑

READ

My smug January self has only gone and managed to read 3 whole books - two of which I am shocked to find were coincidentally both published in 2009 (a year that made for plenty of material, what with Michael Jacksons' death, Obama's inaugaration and the worldwide swine flu scare, but you'll be disappointed to hear these topics remain untouched). Instead, we have on our hands here; Downtown analytics, sumptuous ditties for The King and some good old fashioned bougeousie gossip.

Hold On To Your Dreams - Tim Lawrence (2009)

An extremely thorough (bordering on catelogueish) divulgence of not only the life of Arthur Russell, from Iowa to NY via San Francisco, but of the Downtown Scene that sprouted where he stepped (it's differing dancefloor//record//performance politics et al.). Revealing nothing if not his extreme perfectionist tendencies, seeing his lyrics printed on paper reassures that his hyperbolic standards were certainly to me, acheieved; playful, accessable but every bit sincere. Packed with beautiful photos of him recording the sound of the sea, never without his walkman. Quite perfect in my mind, like something shiny.

Heavily influenced by Indian classical and Black dance music, the book sheds light on the lack of "avant garde" white musical artists being honest/aware of the POC they were isnpired by, if not plagiarise. Arthur was critical of The Talking Heads for this in the early days, and reveals that even Brian Eno used to walk around New York with a "FIGHT THE FUNK" badge. The book points to Lester Bangs' article 'The White Noise Supremacists' featured in The Village Voice in 1979 for its in-time analyses of the blatant racism of the punk/new wave scene emerging from CBGBs and Max's Kansas City. This is the first of the infamous Lester Bangs' work that I've read.

You can read 'The White Noise Supremacists' here.

I Love Dick - Chris Kraus (1997)

I can't remember the last time I felt such utter disdain for a book after reading just the first few pages, but I also can't remember the last time I finished a book in such short a time. Although I scoffed at its subject matter, my cynicism made me all the more thirsty for it (this level of self-indulgency is admittedly addictive), and I can admit that I became increasingly interested in its unusual form once we made it past that awful first act. Chris Kraus emotionally and literarilly cheats on Semiotext(e) founder Sylvere Lotringer in her stalkerish pursuit of Dick Hebdige, the midlands based author of Subculture: the meaning of Style. So this is what landlords get up to with all that spare time on their hands… What sympathy I had for Dick, whose final letter makes a disarming amount of sense, is somewhat quashed by the fact that as a god given Richard, he chose to be referred to as Dick, an undeniably attention seeking decision that in my mind, renders him deserving of any bad press. I’m quite sure a full time job could have stopped this.

Advanced Elvis Course - CA Conrad (2009)

Caught a bit of Elvis' comeback special on BBC and needless to say I was roused in a way that I had not previously been when Grandma and Nige used to put it on VHS in their flat. The book charts his majesty in all manner of formulas, through transcriptions of calls answering a “Call Elvis” flyer, the politics of the onion sandwich at his wedding to Priscilla and the ultimate Elvis formula inspired by The Sator Formula, an ancient magic square of protection. My favourite section has to be “Priscilla Presley’s Memoir ‘Elvis and Me’ as Divination”; recommending instructions as follows:

"Take a question.

Open and close the book (Elvis and Me, 1986 Berkley paperback edition) nine times with eyes closed, concentrating on your question, and you will find your answer somewhere on the ninth opening."

SHORT WATCHES

VPL (Visible Panty Line) - Vito Rocco (1992)

Would you go out with somebody who has a big nose? No. Don't do drugs.

Flames of Passion - Richard Kwietniowski (1989)

A gay twist on Brief Encounter with the national rail logo to censor the kiss.

I Was A Teenage Serial Killer - Sarah Jacobson (1992)

A 19 year old goes on a rampage against misogynistic men, killing one for each of the years she's been alive.

(A strong case for media made by 17 yr old girls.)

The Last Angel of History - John Akomfrah (1996)

Must watch filmic essay tracing science fiction within pan-African culture.

Lonely Paths - ZEEVIDZ (2008)

Hilarious and gut-wrenching in equal measures. Only Molly Miles could bring this to the ICA.

LONG WATCHES

Marty Supreme (2025)

Thoroughly entertaining but a bit too loud and chuntering for my personal liking. I was pleased to have watched it in the SoWo (nickname for South Woodford in a post-Gails landscape) Odeon, as I think this is my ideal venue for my few and far between forays into action movies. Disappointed to find out how much of it is an extension of the truth, especially as the real Marty Mauser had some unexplored plotlines such as a mobile tights business. Disdainful for the fact it attracted annoying men to cinema, causing them to double over in thought when Timothee abandons his preggers wife in the name of ambition. I wish I could weigh in on the Safdie brothers break up so I could pick a side Beckham-style but this is the first I’ve seen of either.

After Hours (1985)

I wasn't too fussed about this to be honest, despite my high expectations. Full of sexy crazy (and crazy-sexy) women but contrary to popular belief, that was not enough to capture my attention. Perhaps I was not privy to the full disorienting effect as the site I was streaming it on was of particularly shoddy quality. *SPOILER* Almost all made up for by the brilliant ending; what do you mean he was papier mache’d into an newspaper sculpture of a screaming man and carried off by some fly tipping enthusiasts who disparage him as pretentious modern art? Should've been a short film just to achieve this end.

No Other Choice (2025)

Funnily enough, I did end up watching this out of having no other choice after missing Hamnet due to enjoying some Kung Fu Noodles (Manchester chinatown must). So glad we did, I would pick it over sad Paul Mescal any day of the week. Definitely one to watch in the cinema such beautiful wide shots of nature and angles where you can see round the bend. Out of the audience we were definitely the ones laughing the most.

Crumb (1995)

I came across Robert Crumb accidentally via his (comparably unremarkable in contrast to the rest of his work) Valentines Horrors when making Diary of a UFO. I went down a bit of a hole with buying Mr Natural and Dirty Laundry and watching the doc 'The Confessions of R Crumb", which really is not a patch on this. It barely covered his brothers which you come to realise are frankly the essence of his warped make-up. Literally existing inbetween their compulsions, a case is somehow made that the transferral of the abhorrace occuring in his mind to paper perhaps is in some sense important if not excusable. Truly the mot deplorable of humans. I love how they all have that same scathing, self-depracating, sarcastic drawl, right down to his son. Whether intentional or otherwise, the side by side comparison between the analyses of the smart women and the stuffy art critic made for real amusement. "Fantasies of dominating out of fear that the opposite is true". My favourite bits were to see into the Treasure Island comics they made as kids, the suburban street corner reference book, and the descent of Charles' comics into reams of writing.

↑ This is Roberts horror-Valentines card and my subsequent rip off ↑

MISCELLANEOUS

New Years Eve Review

Most successful New Years to date, although I try not to be too superstitious about these things seeing as last year began with the Wicked soundtrack and yet it wasn't a complete write-off. Ended up at a houseparty in an amazing house belonging to some mystery persons nan (only identifiable to me by analysing the many school photos that lined the mantlepiece). Plenty of novelty trinkets and company alike, including a Toby Jug collection and two seperate individuals called Paddy Smith and Warwick David. What are the chances? There was certainly something in the air.

AAAAGHHHHHH

Frightened's first ever gig at The Windmill. It is also the first time since their near-3 year hiatus that Harry and Sam have appeared on stage together since winning school Battle of The Bands as LSD/Long Shore Drift (a genius 16-year-old mishmash of exciting drugs and something we learned in Geography class). I appreciate that they weren't all wearing jumpers, otherwise I would've pigeoned them in as one of those "Jumper Bands".

Film Handling Workshop

One of my resolutions this year was to at least think about acquiring some new skills, seeing as my one skill of self-reflection led me to the realisation that I am nervous around things unfamiliar things that I guess I'll be no good at. Luckily this opportunity was thrust into my hands at LUX and although I did spend the tube ride there flustered about the possible reprecussions of my clammy hands, both the print and I emerged unscathed. Lynn, a projectionist from the BFI archive came in and showed us how to reel up (clearly I've already forgotten the terminology) a projector, check prints and use a Steinbeck.

Kerry James Marshall @ The RA

This is one of the exhibitions that makes your hands go itchy because you know that there is no amount of time you can stand there that will allow you to take it all in. I had been a surface level fan since finding his Souveneir series but seeing his work in that scale with all its nuggets to spot, from the ovarian scan in the corner of the barbershop to the lyrics seeping out from the boomboxes, it transforms into something active that sets your brain whirring in a way that a picture can't prompt. The squashed presidents were particularly interesting in their out of character style but I believe the series of paintings of public housing projects might be the best art I've seen in living memory (I love a dramtic statement).

Clockwatchers Thermos

Been enjoying using my "Toast" thermos inspired by the one Parker Poseys' character carries round in Clockwatchers. Thought it would be a funny reference to the fact I'm on my placement year, seeing as the film is about female temp workers feeling marginalised. Problem is I'm not nearly as rebellious, nor do I have anything to rebel against because everyone's been treating me great - this makes it more funny I think

Hoover Shopping

Had the absolute pleasure of exploring Curry's/PC World in pursuit of a hoover for Talitha. After plenty of trials involving ripping old gum packets onto the floor, we settled on the Vax Air Stretch for its nice girthy tube and easily detachable compartment. You still can't fit it right under sofas though, which adds to the list of reasons why Dragons Den is still going. Did you know there are now skinny cordless Henry's? It renders the whole face concept null and void but you have to move with the tides of change I guess.

HONOURABLE MENTIONS GO TO ALL THE PARENTS THAT WENT AT IT AROUND EASTER, AND WHO SUBSEQUENTLY BROUGHT ME THE DELIGHTS OF NORTHERN SOUL IN CELEBRATION OF ZAIN, DUMPLINGS IN HONOUR OF CHIA AND KARAOKE IN FESTIVITY OF TALITHA. ALSO TO MY NEWFOUND PSYCHOLOGICALLY NON-DETECTABLE STATUS. DISHONOURABLE MENTION GOES TO THE AI MUSIC PLAYING ON LOOP IN THE NAIL SALON, THE DEMOLITION OF THE MILE END TEXACO AND MY PATHETIC ATTEMPT AT CREAMY COURGETTE PASTA.

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Palestine Online

Palestine Online acts as a digital-folder archive of websites made in Palestine throughout recent history, from peoples personal homepages to art, culture, tourism and travel. Browse via theme or generate a random site to interact with some of the essential documentation the internet offers.

Digging w/ Dev Hynes & Laurie Anderson

Seems silly to recommend NTS but I really think the interviewer Flo naturally puts the guests at ease and manages to draw out conversations that would often go untouched. The conversation with Laurie Anderson about their different opinions on AI is very interesting, with her coming at it from an avant-boomer Brian-Eno-tubular-bells stance in contrast to the allotment dwelling zillenial terror. Dev Hynes talks his return to Ilford after his decades in New York, listening to the same music he did when working as a flower arranger at M&S.

Casual Archivist

A newsletter that spotlights different archival material according to a theme. This link takes you to a series of spreads from Sinclair Programs, a short-lived magazine published between 1982 and 1985 for users of Sinclair Research’s line of home computers. Their most popular home computer was the ZX Spectrum, a small 8-bit model released in the UK in 1982. Programs, and subsequently these manuals, have a truncated “visual identity”, each subtly aimed at a different kind of home computer user—from the buttoned-up professional to the weekend hobbyist. Check out the other posts too there's everything from concert tickets to chopstick sleeves.

↑This programme offers a romantic alternative to fruit ninja↑

↓ PS. I Found my great grandad Len featured in the Leicester Evening Mail! ↓

Remember January is only a practice! The year of the horse begins now...

JUMBO! December 2025 in Review

Posted 02 January, 2026

MUSIC

I have really ground to a halt with my music discovery which is symptomatic of my seasonally foggy brain. The fertile ground for musical digging was indeed further hindered by the Cameron Winter preoccupation I descended into that took up the best part of November; an obsession born of precisely measured seasonal fragility and the lingering residue of frantic teenage lust, still capable of curdling into something corrosive at my big age. Once I regained my senses, I found myself relistening to some of my old faves that stir nostalgia for the year elapsed.

Artificial Flowers - Bobby Darin (1961)

I first heard this song last summer in a second hand shop in Margate, I was trying to hide from one of my uni tutors who was working behind the counter, but was so hooked by the story I couldn't leave until the song was over. Hidden behind a rack of sequined dresses, the vibrant brutality of the lyrics were better than any book I had read for months. The image of little frozen Annie with her long-awaited garland of real flowers WATERED WITH ALL HER YOUNG TEARS has been stuck in my head ever since. Jaunty and desperate, like all good things, the combination of tragic and flashy (trashy?) really gets me in the festive mood. It reminds me of Wayne Cochran's Last Kiss which depicts the equally morbid concept of accidentally killing your girlfriend in a car crash with a similar helping of showmanship (he also has the most incredible, tallest snow white pompadour you’ve ever seen - I insist you look at it).

Yesterday Once More - The Shaggs (1981)

A Carpenter's cover by the Wiggin sisters. I found this because I love the song before it on the ‘Shaggs Own Thing’ compilation, ‘My Cutie’. I wish they weren’t remembered by Frank Zappa's approximation or that frankly offensive musical. However positively intended, I reckon both these depictions flatten their charm.

Strange Overtones - David Byrne and BAE Brian Eno (2008)

I got super hooked on this during the long car journeys through the services and shires to visit my grandparents for Xmas. Maybe subconsciously because the album cover aligned with the views as I looked out the window at all the red brick new-build estates boasting no real infrastructure except the M1 and intense neighbour surveillance. I imagined the storyline playing out between those walls - there is an uncannyness in the song that matches these places I think. The albums title ‘Everythig That Happens Will Happen Today” suits my imagination too. There can be something rather sinister in the daily repetition of these remote routines but all the while your head stays bobbing to the beat.

Ain’t that a Kick - Peter Ivers (rel. 2019)

I could and maybe will do a whole seperate post on Peter Ivers so I won't clog this page with rants about his spandex, academic prowess, connnection to David Lynch or the fact that Muddy Waters called him the best harp player of all time. What I will say is that I find myself coming to him after a kick in the head moment because he's a great soundtrack with which to perform a bemused shrug at the camera / or God / or whoever you believe is keeping an eye on you.

Oh To Be In Love + Suspended In Gaffa - Kate Bush (1978 + 1982)

Need I say more? When I played these in the car with Harry on Boxing Day I almost caused a collision on Redbridge roundabout - that's just the kind of effect she has.(I actually had my first experience behind the wheel in Melton Airfield this month and took this as a mental note for any further driving endeavours - I dread to think how many roadside injuries she may be responsible for). Her songs make you hold your breath and then take the deepest most vitalizing inhale you feel you've had in ages.

↑He is entirely irrelevant but here's Wayne↑

READ

One skinny book and two short-form sexual enlightenments.

Good Morning, Midnight - Jean Rhys (1939)

I find it really difficult to choose what to read so I had a google of titles related to two of my favs 'A Confederacy of Dunces' by John F Kennedy Toole, and 'Narrow Rooms' by John Purdy. Turns out they are both on John Waters' ultimate books list so I decided to crack on with another off it. After reading it I have to agree with his claim, "To hell with Charles Bukowski, Jean Rhys is the best alcoholic writer of all time". Her inner monologue is infused with a melodrama that makes for amazing one liners, everything feels impossibly difficult and embarrassment hangs around her like a thick, itchy cloak which restricts use of her arms. I spent half the time realising the voice in my head almost reads hers like a script, and the rest of the time being tired of her whinings (the call is coming from inside the house...). Made for a pretty introspective experience I'd say.

The Goon Squad – Daniel Holitz (2025)

James recommended this terrifying investigation into the sexual lives of the men of my generation - a topic I can scarcely stomach pondering. To think I've been casually throwing the word goon around in reference to some good-old-fashioned-innocent masturbation is horrifying to me now. Definitely a gripping must-read, and one that might motivate anyone battling a less severe but still brain-poisoning reels addiction — which I’m currently trying to rehabilitate myself from.

Jenny Hval in Worms

In a Worms issue, Jenny Hval talks about the film Deep Throat in which the protagonist has a clit in her throat - she then links this obscurely to the tantalising phenomenon of covid tests. I just think this is a fascinating link that I hope someone explores in the next 2020 themed amateur-psycho-sexual-dystopian-apocalypse film.

SHORT WATCHES

Rat Life & Diet in North America - Joyce Wieland (1968)

Canadian nationalism at its bravest.

Body Beautiful - Joanna Quinn (1990)

You are probably thinking about yourself too much.

The Moon Man - British Cryptids (1974)

I have mistook many a distant lamppost as a glowing head since watching.

Kate Bush and Peter Gabriel sing Another Day (1979)

Always blesses cable telly this time of year.

LONG WATCHES

Let Us Flow (2023)

I watched this in the “black box” at LUX, who are doing an online exhibition of it in the new year. It was made in collaboration with the highland communities of Tusheti in Georgia and is a fascinating look into how remote communities are affected by the technological updates of the modern age. It also boasts some of the best gopro footage I have ever seen (which admittedly isn't saying much because I don't like extreme sports POVs).

Rockers (1978)

Screened by the very best programmer in London, Never Watching Movies at The Rio. A documentary turned feature film, it remains super immersive even while underpinned by a robin hoodish narrative and of course a sooooper soundtrack. I really enjoyed the ending as I get a kick out of seeing furniture out of its usual habitat.

↑This picture of the dollshouse items I got for my work secret santa reminds me of the fab final scene.↑

Pillion (2025)

I liked it but I was ready to love it. This month I learned what precinct meant so it felt appropriate in terms of the blowjob scene. Where is the barbershop quartet resurgence that this should have triggered? Someone please take the gauntlet, whether that's purely with the honourable objective of attracting a 6'4" sex god or otherwise.

The Holdovers (2023)

Definitely one of the best examples of me being won over halfway through. I was quite sure I disliked it at first, mostly because I was being forced to watch adolescent boys interacting after spending my own adolescence successfully avoiding witness to that riff-raff. My heart was warmed by the end.

Indecent Proposal (1993)

Honourable mention for being so mind numbingly dull. Why were all of the letterboxd criticisms just that Robert Redford is much hotter than Woody Harrelson? Not only are you wrong, you also have far too much time on your hands to have staggered through the entirety of this Epstein-infused energy-hoover of a film.

Sick: The Life & Death of Bob Flannagan, Supermasochist (1997)

I found out about Bob Flannagan through finding that Hanuman are reprinting Fuck Journal. This documentary may be the best I’ve ever seen, and I recommend you do so too using the link above because *SPOILER*; a penis gets nailed to a wooden plank and this version is just pixelated enough for it not to be too gut-wrenching. Make A Wish are truly doing themselves a disservice by not boasting their part in Sarah getting her nipples pierced with her hero. A reclamation of pain, the footage of Bob's death changes the way you anticipate your own and I often find myself returning to his reading of ‘Why?’. Its position at the end of the documentary is (and I won’t say this much) just beautiful.

MISCELLANEOUS

Rack n Roll, Leicester

Tell me you aren't itching to go in here. Driving through Leicester, there are so many derelict spaces so it was exciting to see that of all things, this was alive and kicking. (PS. What's even better is this wasn't even in ‘Leicester Square’, some entertainment buildings just have the signage up as a novelty poke at London.) Hopefully next time I can venture inside.

Sausage Roll Wreath

The making of a Jamie Oliver sausage roll wreath is a tradition in Harry’s house and this year I had the honour of joining in. I'm usually always looking for an excuse to be the first to put Jamie down (flag shagger; fact or fiction?) but this was an amazing experience - something so novelty created from just two readymade packets and some egg - totally my skill level. You may (or most likely may not) be able to tell that I tried to embellish the dodgy plait areas with a bow and a heart - unfortunately neither blossomed into their likeness in the oven.

Rum Rum Rudolph

Went to Jakes for “A Very Croydon Christmas” which was a highlight of the advent for me. I hadn't been to the London Borough of Culture since the pub crawl to the Northern, Eastern, Southern and Westernmost points of London, during which we travelled South last. Needless to say that this time I viewed Croydon through comparably rose tinted spectacles. I loveee a themed drink and Jake made these Rum Rum Rudolph cocktails using cranberry juice, cola and… you guessed it - rum. The star of the show however were these little reindeer embellishments made with my favouriteee maraschino cherries and sprigs of christmas tree. Leaving this here to remember for next year.

Phở Bánh Cuốn 14

Most delicious Pho ever tasted was officially found this month in Paris' Chinatown. I keep dreaming of it because I was criminally hungover with the shakes and getting increasingly distressed by the wraparound mirrors, so didn't enjoy it to it's full capacity. Alex lives nearby to it on the top floor of a towerblock where it looked as though the birds would splat straight into the window.

Clara Bow

Hannah sent me this wonderful festive image of Clara Bow and said it reminded her of me. I love when this happens so I shall store it here.

Double Decker Tubes

I took the double decker train out to Fontainebleau to visit Ruby who is living on the grounds of a school teaching as a language assistant. When we first made the journey out in the dark I had assumed we were travelling through ugly retail parks like Milton Keynes but when I returned in daylight the ride was gorgeous with woods on either side. And to think its a flat metro rate too, meanwhile even the Elizabeth line through the riveting views of Romford costs you an arm and both legs. This was the first time since I’ve grown out of my debilitating motion sickness that I truly enjoyed a journey. Who knows maybe I will sample a steam train next.

Xmas Cracker Dress

I simply must recreate this Christmas Cracker dress: DON'T PULL UNTIL XMAS!!

HONOURABLE MENTIONS GO TO SNARESBROOK TOBY CARVERY AND THE SHERBORNE GARDEN CENTRES' ANIMATRONIC PENGUINS WHO SING THE BEACH BOYS. DISHONOURABLE MENTION GOES TO ICE SKATING WHICH I CAN CONFIRM IS AS BAD AS YOU REMEMBER IT BEING.

CLICK ON THESE

This winter I worked on Montez Press Radio's blog which ended up introducing me to some great things. A shortlist of my faves below:

Nanarchism

Tinned Soup, Orange Sherbert and Jigsaws... Just Stop Oil are powered by hobbies our nans have been preaching for years.

Forensic Architechture

This is an amazing site that reconstructs histories of sites all over the world where stories have been deliberately erased by Western powers throughout the 20th century. They work with archive materials and oral histories to make some really expansive rediscoveries - there is so much information so it is something to return to.

Khajistan

I found out about Khajistan because of their new publication Smut Of The Middle World, Vol 1: Pakistan which features the censored archive of banned Pakistani erotic magazines from the 1960s through the 2000s. Focusing of digitizing overlooked histories, their website has the most incredible resources including an image archive, film vault and downloadable archive publications, many of which are FREEE!

↑This is a page from the 2004 edition of 'Family' mag which is available as a free download!↑

↑PS. Finally found my signed photo by the saving grace of celeb Gogglebox.↑

I hope everyone had a lovely break and/or Xmouse!!

First Contact

Posted 02 January, 2026

One evening at work we were checking our astrological predictions and Zains read “take a moment to reflect on your legacy”. Over the whir of the popcorn machine’s stir we erupted into inconsolable laughter, accusing anyone who seemed to have drifted off into their mind of ‘holding space to reflect on their legacy’. There’s something very American about it, very Wicked press tour, that got everyone I mentioned it to afterwards on board with the joke too. We all are united in doubt for our own capacity to make a momentary noticeable impact on the world, let alone change it. Yet in the moment, my mind went straight to one man and one man only; Diamond Geezer.

Rather than the “loveable rogue” played by David Jason in the 2005 sitcom of the same name, Diamond Geezer is the author/historian/urban legend behind the one blog that I have an fervent devotion to. He is a gentleman who lives, by what I can make out (which is a great deal thanks to his thorough documentation), a stone's throw away from where I grew up. The blog is older (and certainly wiser) than me - DG has written in explicit detail every single day since 2002, a period across which there is scarcely a perambulation he hasn’t paved. The consistent quality of his entries are so reliable that I need only look to today's offering for an example of his brilliance; titled ‘26 things I saw on route 26’ (Route 26 from Hackney Wick to Victoria is the bus of the year - obviously).
Number 9 and 15 speak to me the most;

“9) Rick Astley is the joint owner of that bar which serves pints of Birdbarker Sparkling Cider, Nimble Like A Treefrog and Grandma's Fridge Cake.
15) Over 100 red, white and black bollards weave across Bank junction, strategically positioned along every twisty pavement edge so it looks like a Bollard Convention may be taking place.”

Observations cut with a poetic edge, and peppered with many a novelty fact, Diamond Geezer is the master of blogging in the /(lower case) b, (capital) LOGGING\ sense. His earnest pursuit to document is one of my favourite uses of the internet; a miraculous portal that can allow you to see history being updated in real time. Now that’s a legacy to reflect upon.

As a DG fan, I know I don’t want to have a separate online presence estranged from my own daily life, who I am constantly traipsing around after, and who sits with me on the sofa relentlessly humming in my ear while my mind is elsewhere. I've always felt the presence of a middle man on certain sites and although I wouldn't describe myself as shy or guarded, I realise that I could come off in this way provided I feel a middle man is-a-snooping. After all, three’s only company for the blessed trinity. I've made this seperate portal inspired by DG because I love the Internet Archive and Waybackmachine which share a similar fanbase and media as neocities. This website won’t be a feast for the eyes nor a literary escapade, but rather a stream-of-consciousness self-satisfying exercise centred around the methodic (if tedious) process of inputting information. Things take me quite a long time to digest, so taking a long time to log them makes lovely sense to my brain.

PS. I seem to remember that there is an anonymous blogspot of mine out there somewhere which may or may not have a poem lamenting the torment of seeing your crush in the school hallway based on (or should I say bolstered by, nigh on plagiarised) the lyrics to the Mission of Burma song ‘That’s When I Reach for my Revolver’. Basically I wanted to shoot him so as to not feel embarrassed by my own nagging presence - some real solid gold tween angst that narrowly escapes being flagged as an FBI safeguarding issue. If that was to have taught me anything it is that you ought not to make a blog so as to save yourself from chronic eye-twitching recollections. That is to say I haven’t learned my lesson.