Retro God Blog

Archive for September 26th, 2007

Party Pooper T-Shirt by Retro God

Party Pooper T-Shirt by Retro God

Party Pooper

I confess - I am a party pooper. It must be part of the ageing process. I wasn’t exactly Fun Time Bobby, but my catchphrase throughout my late teens was ‘Where’s the party?’. It was a sincere expression, I truly wanted to party every weekend. I know that means screwing in the USA, but I just meant house parties. Now don’t get me wrong, this isn’t like your Fresh Prince kinda house party, all I needed was a house, booze, attractive girls and music. That constituted a house party. I loved it, just when the whole concept went tits up.

I had a house party once, it was awful, my family returned home early, everyone was bored to tears, the music was, shall we say limited to a bunch of miserable records I’d stumbled across in 2nd hand vinylshops, and yes they were all badly scratched. It made me realize that no one who has regular house parties has a home. My place was trashed like everyone else’s. It was just nice for a while to be somewhere more personal than the dingy pubs and clubs around at the time.

These days there’s more atmosphere at a supermarket or an airport than some clubs I could mention. Super clubs are the worst. Vast warehouses, that unless you’re on some kind of mind altering substance, you soon notice just how ugly the whole place is, the girders, the rafters, the pidgeons in the eaves. I’ve worked in a few factories in my time, and to tell the truth, they were friendlier places.

These days it’s almost impossible to find a real good quality party run by amateurs, out of the goodness of their hearts, just for the kicks. Nope. There’s always some agenda, networking usually. I’ve been drawn into conversations on all sorts of crap, but costume jewellery and health products, that really is the pits. You can get Ann Summers parties, now they could be more interesting if they actually invited the blokes along too, but they know that business would be pushed aside and everyone would end up drunk as usual. Shame that.

There are swingers parties (god forbid), I’ve seen a Channel 4 doc on that whole scene, and if you are over fifty, sex mad, sport thongs, and enjoy rolling around in a dark room full of oily bodies, then good luck to you. S&M parties, why on earth anyone can enjoy pain, I don’t know, I was caned at school (corporal punishment incase you are a confused stoner). I didn’t enjoy it. Being punished doesn’t sound like a fun night out to me.

I suppose I must resign myself to the prospect of dinner parties (now they are not parties) and restaurants, theatre, film, art, the usual haunts of the reserved. I miss the party people, but unless you’re off your face you don’t want to bump into them anymore. Most of them are far uglier than I remember, but their hearts are as good as gold, as long as the drugs don’t wear off.

The people who scare me the most say they are ‘High on Life’, that sounds absurd to me, then again I am a miserable git. Who knows - perhaps they have a enjoyably toxic reaction to breathing air, or smiling makes them orgasm, their brains must be wired in a completely different way, an alien way, perhaps they are the future. I am certainly not. You can’t get me excited anymore, I’ve had my share, I’m a party pooper now, if you do invite me I am guaranteed to stand in the corner of your kitchen for ten minutes before making my excuses.

 


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  • A massive Escape Button surrounded by crowds of tourists. It would be nice if we all could really get away. Another planet, another dimension, somewhere where you’ll meet few if any humans.

    My partner would always point out beauty spots of the countryside whenever we travelled on a motorway. Not so much now though. I heaped a debate on her, and she wasn’t really asking for one, but I did anyway. It went something like this…

    What actually enabled us to see these beautiful places, from afar, from a car. The motorway (or freeway if you want me to go all American on you - besides that’s probably a misnomer by now anyway… I mean with the amount of toll roads these days I doubt few of them are actually free anymore.).

    If you can see a beautiful place from somewhere as ugly as hell, you are spoiling the view. It’s kinda difficult to quantify what spoils a view. I have no problem with Wind Turbines for instance, I know a lot of nimbys do (nimby = not in my backyard). A blott on the landscape for me has more to do with function than form. It’s not how it looks so much as what it does, or rather how efficiently. All the Post Modernists back me up on this, form and function is a symbiosis of two essential disciplines. Anything that strips one from the other is a failure as far as design is concerned.

    A wind turbine is essentially a beautifully ugly thing. It’s beauty comes from the knowledge that it does little if any damage to the environment in as efficient way as possible. From the belief that it is the way of the future, anon-polluting one at that. There are areas of the UK that won’t let you put up a satellite dish because it spoils the look of a listed village, a historical town, a heritage centre. I love history, but if it meant isolating myself from the present then I’d rather give it the heave-ho. Imagine what all those nimby council planners think about solar panels and wind turbines. Here’s a quickie, how about a wind turbine on every church steeple (how many are left now?) and disguise the top with a weather vane. It would be ugly, it would be inefficient, but if it gets past the beady eye of a planning officer with a heavy historical bias then it would be worth it.

    Motorways are ugly. Cars can be beautiful in their own way, from a design perspective I mean. But get a thousand in a tailback with a cloud of smog overhead and you’re not painting a Turner are you? Until cars can hover we are stuffed. Let’s face it, we won’t have any countryside to tear through within fifty years. Even if we do learn to hover, we’ll still have difficulty seeing anything through that smog. How many years does it take to clean the sky anyway?

    Getting back to the point, you can’t see beauty without ruining it, if man get’s his dirty mitts on anything beautiful, whatever his intentions, he does usually end up ruining it. I know we’ve got a few National Trust parks, they still get the smog but at least they’re not twelve lane bypasses for nearby cities. But what about the rest. It takes millions of years to form a landscape, man has always played with it, digging a tunnel here, building a bridge there. But now he can flatten it, raise it, put it out to sea, you name it. By the way - how long will those ornamental islands in Dubai last now that we know the world’s sea levels are rising?

    Yes, yes, this has entry has turned in to one of those awful eco-rants you read just about everywhere. I’ll stop badgering you, I’m no better. Sure I recycle, I don’t even drive, but this old house we live in could never be described as ‘ecologically efficient’. I could do a lot more to help, but as the years have passed I’ve come to accept that what I remember is so drastically different from what the next can recall that soon a tree will be a surprise for the kids growing up these days.

    I was on a plane recently, first time in years, I didn’t plant a tree, I didn’t carbon offset. But when I saw all those businessmen who use planes the way I used to use buses (get a bike), it kinda knocked me back for six. There is no great escape, no getaway. Next time you think you’ve managed to get away from the world, look up, that guy in the plane staring back, he’s thinking of putting a Starbucks franchise just where you’re standing.

    The Great Escape

     The Great Escape


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  • Loony Bin T-Shirt by RetroGod.com

    It seems that mental health has always been a no-no when it comes to general conversation. You can say you are crazy about snowboarding, football mad, you can say your job is driving you insane, you can use the words, but never play out the actions. Until now.

    Loony Bin T-Shirt

    Loony Bin T-Shirt by RetroGod.com

    General society has until recently treated mental illness like an infection, don’t talk to mad people or you will end up exactly the same way, talking about god knows what conspiracies, impossible tales of impossible deeds. But funny enough it seems that all you normal people out there have accidentally embraced lunacy without realizing it.

    I’ve had my turns, it’s true, I’ve suffered from manic depression, I’ve had suicidal friends, a lot of well-meaning straights would love to blame the drug culture, but when you take a closer look, you have to blame culture, nothing more than that.

    Noise drives people crazy. City dwellers beware, noise does screw you up. The reason there’s so much noise these days isn’t just a matter of over-population, it’s the fact that everyone wants to make more noise. Their phones, their cars, their offices, their homes, their lives are noisy. Their friends are noisy, their bosses are noisy. Why do you think so many retire early from the Stock Market?

    I met a retired stockbroker once, he was in his late twenties, he was jumping up and down in the train carriage as I played a stupid little Casio synth I was absorbed by at the time. He came over, wiping what seemed to be coke from his nose and grabbed it. He offered me double its worth in cash, I accepted, he didn’t have any cash. We laughed and he told me to play my junk, I just made it up and he stared out the window contemplating.

    He started to recall his life, almost as if to no one in particular, he had made millions from junk bonds or god knows what, and blew almost all of it on coke parties. He told me I was better off out of it. I took the advice to heart. The point is this guy was no different than any crazy I’d met at The Priory. He had his nervous twitches, his pharmaceutical love of white powder, and a tendency to place his conversation in the context of the earth and the human race, rather than an individual one.

    Look at TV and film these days, I’ve always loved the tools of Sci-fi, not so much the gadgets as the endless conveyor belt of what if’s, it seems that everything I see has appropriated the predictive nature of that once cult format. It seems that most celebrities are now officially a little crazy, some more than others. It seems the same can be said for scriptwriters too. To me it’s all old hat, I’ve been mad for years so I and many of my crazy friends from times gone by are prepared.

    If you think normality still exists, you are outnumbered. Originality is such a sought after commodity now, that no matter the market, medium, or craft, no matter how little sense it makes, if people like it, it’s a roaring success. The point is sanity has become boring. People try to escape the cold harsh light of reality everyday. Women who let advertisers fool them into believing in eternal youth and beauty. The promise of wealth. The illusion of sophistication and glamour. Take a ride into space for $20m and wonder what it’s all about. Smoke a doobie and wonder how you are going to make that much money in the first place.

    The lunatics escaped from the asylum a long time ago, they run the media, the government, the corporations, they design your clothes, paint your art, start wars, sell reconverted asylums as executive apartments with panoramic views, they’re everywhere. Get used to it.


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