April 25, 2011

April 16, 2011

www.thesixtyone.com

this website is fucking great, basically a free stream of independent, user-uploaded music. it's like being able to sit in a different hipster's bedroom with each click of the button!

and it's getting to that time of night when it's weird to be awake, so piss off and sleep tight xx

i'm under this town

if every night was as rad as tonight, aside from half of my hometown turning into dante's inferno, i'd probably be one of those annoying optimistic people.

also, i just remembered that i used to fucking love this song, seems oddly appropriate:



(at least now we know whose fault it is that somerset west is burning down. billy joel, you're a bastard.)

April 10, 2011

the zombie apocalypse is here - if you're an ant



creepy. turns out this whole "zombies taking over the world" idea isn't too far-fetched. stocking  up on a shotgun and some tinned food just in case, you can't ever be too safe.

April 9, 2011

it's ok to poach ideas, but not animals


so ogilvy paris fucked up a little - they've just done a campagin for the WWF that (coincidentallyhappens to be identical to a project by two third-year students from vega in 2009. the ads featured fish wearing masks of various endangered animals, bearing the payoff line "would you care more now?" - whereas ogilvy's version features (you guessed it) fish wearing animal masks and copy that reads "would you care more if i was a gorilla/panda/rhino etc." the students' work won a silver award for print advertising at the 2009 sappi think ahead awards. have a look at this if you want to find out more.

i guess you could argue that it's a co-incidence. if you're one of those people who thinks that the dude from survivor really lives on an uninhabited island between shows.

today i got to play videogames for school

seriously though, part of the project i'm busy working on actually involves me playing games. that's my idea of good education. fuck you, essays and exams and other things of that nature, we can all learn something from duke nukem. (even if it is just how to kick ass and chew bubblegum)

April 7, 2011

so i go through phases of recording semi-shit songs in my room on a laptop, and i think i'll start uploading them here since there's not much else i can think of that counts as procrastination at the moment. this one is called headwounds, no idea why.

April 6, 2011

dear god, thank you for stumbleupon. amen.

this is pretty crazy, i saw someone doing a similar thing in scotland once, no idea if it's the same guy. probably not though, "youtube" sounds really stupid in a scottish accent so i bet nobody there takes it seriously.

either way, he is one talented trance-bro.

and you're saying youtube in a scottish accent now, aren't you.
never thought i'd find myself saying this, but this made me look at paperclips in a whole new way.
today's been great, i feel like i could high five a fucking whale.

April 4, 2011



this is a band i've been playing in recently called SUPERCANCER ...the track is called expendable friends and was recorded by gideon de kock at city varsity. you can download the two-track for free on our bandcamp or just in that thingy at the top of this post, convenient.

YOU'RE SO
HIGH
UP IN YOUR CLOUD OF BLACK SMOKE
YOU HAVEN'T NOTICED THAT THE COINS I'VE
THROWN DOWN
IN COBBLESTONES BETWEEN YOUR TOES HAVE
WORN OUT
TO PEBBLES IN YOUR PILLOWCASES

SOME DAYS RUN DRY THE SAME DAYS SCRAPE US BY

I'M SO TIRED OF TRIPPING
OVER FAULTLINES
I'M THROWING IN MY LAST SIGHS AND I'M BEDSIDE
WITH FINGERPRINTS ALONG THE NOTES I CAN'T FIND
IN EMPTY POCKETS
BUT I WON'T LET IT LIE

[SOME NIGHTS LIGHT SKIES THE SAME NIGHTS RUN DRY]

SOME NIGHTS.


as objectively as possible, this is one of the fucking raddest flyers i’ve seen. ever. designed by franco fernandes (who is less mexican and as attractive as his name implies) also, it’s for a band i play in called yes sir! mister machine and you should come and watch.

this is life and limb by a band called fugazi. if you don’t know who fugazi is then you should go back to school. easily one of my favourite songs, even without ian mackaye’s bear-voice.
when the bit pulls tight the grip is sewn into the reins
can’t breathe it out you’ll just breathe it back again
you mental-pack your chambers full for no reason you can name
a boil-in-bag blood supply you know it’s murder on the veins
don’t you feel it now?
viva viva viva life and limb
viva viva viva threatening 
hey - we want our violence doubled (no but really in a loving way)
hey - we want our violence doubled (no but really want it right away)
the national temper you know it’s written on your face
etched and scratched and mirrored back don’t you know it’s all the rage
don’t you feel it now?
violence is the last refuge of the incompetent.
isaac asimov
there are, i’m assured
plenty of
fish in
the sea.
there were, i’m assured
prophets who
ate selflessly
from what, i’m assured
proved testament
all men would feed
on earth, i’m assured
and above
satisfactorally
yet the problem, i fear
under all
of the waves at my feet
is my love in its pure
is the ocean,
and not of its meat.
















self-portrait as a cancer cell. ink on cardboard.

therapist
i paid a Man
who
sat me down,
stared into the screen of
His computer
asked His questions
listened to His
patient
raised His eyebrows
planned His foray
checked His Watch
watched His check-
list
     turn to pâpier-maché
as I
sat him down
with a small sentiment:
i know i’m probably wrong.
“well, I think you might be right, actually”
I took My money
and was gone.



thanks to mw for this. very true indeed.

quantum glitch:
i blame this “end of the world” business on this.


everyone is my friend, by owls. such a thoroughly fucking great song.
may we all make it home safely


doodle 3. it’s blue and made out of ink and paper.
 
fataloly
your errors in time
in Time
will tie our pockets to our 
ties
in Time,
drip copper from our 
wallets,
in Time
will time the Times we climbed
through climes of Diamond lines
to fill an Empty Pride
of sides in hides of men
who silhouette the Sun again
and travel with the Moon
to Spend
the night in revelation,
or revels, 
losing any shed of skin
(should teeth present their 
indentations) to the willing
and the drunk on tar and
Oxygen
until the Sun begins again
to reprimand
and freedom ends
stop living in seconds
and
be free as firsts again.


another doodle thing. maybe a sticker. done with ink and a brush, some paper and a scanner. (need to get better at these art-words)
the creation of love is the love of creation


this is a doodle called i am. doodle, meet the internet. done with a pencil, a fineliner, a scanner and a photoshop.
the only false prophet is profit
this is a drawing on a piece of paper towel by a friend of mine named karl schulschenk. go and vote for it at the Carrol Boyes Functional Art fanpage, there are some other pretty good entries too, so like what you want!
head to his flickr and see some of his work, not sure how frequently he updates it, but its all very good. give it a glance!
still like this photo several years later even though it’s shit. jonathan “anti-fringe” ueckermann, james “james acker” acker and mike “anti-emo” tymbios. also, bruce tait’s kitsch collectables should never have closed down.
so i thought this would be appropriate to follow theyes sir! mister machine song i posted yesterday.



here’s another song i wrote when i was 19 (or somewhere around there) called i’m over this town. it’s basically about regretting writing something, and the “something” in this case was the old yes sir! demo. we recorded five of our songs and fell out of love with them pretty quickly, so this was a really angsty, teenage way of expressing my disappointment in that. lol. the angsty teens playing angsty instruments are the same as in the coast of arms it goes like this:
murder the words!
we’ll tear
every page from the
Book
let the hammers fall
on the ink bearing history to
this
murder the words!
we’ll tear every
Page from the book
and let the hammers fall
on the ink bearing history to
eyes to this mirror, eyes to this mirror,
eyes to this mirror!
my mouth bled ink
every night
and it took more than shaking the
Walls
from the rooms bearing witness
my mouth!
bled ink every night
and it took more than
shaking the walls
from the Rooms bearing witness to
it won’t end
with Her hands
She held back
the ocean.


this is prime, considering it my daily reminder of why i love living in this place. and of course why i’m glad to have such talented friends, like mr michael s. davies.
Selected vantage points around Cape Town, South Africa
Nikon D90, Nikkor 18-105
© Michael S. Davies 2011
the best news i've heard in such a while
i took this photo 8 years ago on a month-long trip we did at my highschool called the trek - basically, we spent 28 days hiking, cycling or canoeing from somerset west to de hoop nature reserve over a distance of about 350km.
i probably had about as much fun as anyone can have being forced to hang out with 15-year-old private school kids in the wilderness for four weeks, but it was an invaluable experience and i learned a lot about my private-school 15-year-old self in the process.
we had to pretty much find our own way around with an a4 map of our route each day, so getting lost became a regular activity. on this particular day, we got lost at a dam and spent an hour or so trying to figure out which way to hold the map, so i started carving a face into this chunk of clay.
draw as many parallels to lord of the flies as you want, i’m just glad i ended up mutilating a rock into an idol and not something cool like a pig.


this is a song i wrote when i was 19 for a band called yes sir! mister machine. on the recording, franco fernandes is shouting some words, i’m playing the guitar and shouting slightly less words, seabass du toit is playing the other guitar, gideon de kock is slapping that bass and julian brookstone is the roboctopus hitting the drums.
it’s called the coast of arms and it goes:
is this your idea of being divine?
i’m neck-deep in varicose veins today
but i can’t help,
notice that the day that you left
you left lead
in my veins like the
Hand that played anchor
and all you could do
was set fire to the sails
and i still hear the sound of incisions,
like sirens,
calling my name to the hospital bed
(that you never escaped)
you were only a Name until today.
there’s no pride in the seas that we became
but in the absence of God, what’s left but
making Names?
and fame to blame (each other) to cover up the shame
there’s no absence of hearts and spades
but diamonds elude us like snow into rain
like the rain that played bells on your funeral day
as you lay as you lay as you lay
it’s too late for trivial exchange of
words to pacify the way in which
we built our houses and shut the door
to anything but hate
parting is such sweet sorrow
(but lingers so seldom)
becoming the taste of ash
(in the mouths of our past)
and smouldering all the while
and i still wonder as to how far
we’d have strayed if you’d but stayed
a moment longer but now
let’s sit in circles and judge each other let’s sit in circles and
judge each other let’s sit in circles and judge
each other let’s sit in
circles and judge each
other let’s sit in circles and
the queen is dead.
"that sounds [al]most [im]possible"