Thursday, 31 December 2009

OMG It's NYE 2010

2010 sounds a little crazy doesn't it? I remember all the fuss over 2000 and the end of the world and all that jazz but 2010 sounds like the setting for some futuristic movie. Only we've totally failed with a whole lot of our futuristic expectations...

In the 1980's Back To The Future showed us hover-boards; where the hell are they? Surely we've worked out the technology to hover by now!
And why are we not living on the moon in tin foil suits yet?
Why are we still driving the same old four wheeled cars - with gear sticks?
Why haven't we cured world hunger yet? Or found a better source of energy? Yeah yeah, "Solar Power" I know... but what actually runs off solar power really? It's still too expensive for anyone to actually be running their houses off, or cars, or planes....

We failed our past selves with our rubbishness. I personally blame the fact that people want to make money more than they want to do science. We have way more technology than the everyday man can get his hands on, but nobody is selling up for less than more money than they could possibly ever need. Oh and those particular folk, who spend all day shouting that science is the devils work and ignorance is the only way into heaven.

So how do I plan to step into the under achieving future? Well I'm plan-less. Ok, that's not totally true - I have about 5 plans that I've yet to commit to as I sit in my room begrudging this need for celebration the world encourages, every time we make it through a year. I think I've grown out of all this celebrating and I'm really tempted to stay home and be a recluse. I enjoy the recluse life, but it's one the social person can get their head around.

Why would you not want to go out and get bladdered? Why would you not want to spend your evening surrounded by loud, sweaty drunks? You need to start the year as you mean to go on; with a party! 

I definitely do not want my entire year to be filled with drunken social situations. Been there, done that, can't be assed to hit repeat. Really if I want to start the year as I mean to go on, I should spend the evening writing and doing work in powerful attempts to achieve something with my life. 'Cause that's what I want a whole lot more than the drunkness and the sweat.

You see, I worked in a club for a year. And it wasn't any year, it was my first year at university. So every day for a year I was either out clubbing or in a club working (which amounted to the same thing up until I got bored of being on the scene). I wore it out. Can you blame me for not wanting to do it all over again?

And besides, what's so special about NewYears? It's just another day, it only looks like it's special because of the particular calendar we follow. But what if we followed a different one? There are loads of different 'NewYears' going on, so it can't be all that special. If I'm celebrating making it through a year, really that's kinda morbid... and on that logic shouldn't we celebrate everyday?

Yay! I've got a whole new today to look forward to! 

Woot! Let's celebrate tomorrow's arrival! 

Haha! I remember yesterday! 

I guess that's a good way to live, sort of. So long as the celebrating isn't daily over indulgences followed by massive hangovers. But just being happy, appreciating your life and all that love-y dove-y shit that nobody really does but pretend they do 'cause it makes them sound spiritual and 'together'.

I don't know.

While I'm on the topic of NewYears though, may as well discuss resolutions. I think it's pointless to make resolutions like, No more chocolate. No more fags. Exercise daily. Cold turkey, cold turkey, cold turkey! You're not going to achieve anything by removing something you enjoy on the premise of becoming a better person or whatever. It'll be a couple of weeks before you are back on whatever you gave up (or no longer doing whatever you took up) with twice the force to make up for lost time.

I think instead of empty resolutions we should reflect. Look at this year and see what worked, what didn't work. Look at yourself. Understand yourself. You can't 'improve' on something you don't understand so there's no point wasting your life away.

If you look back it'll help you look forward. It'll help you set real goals that you can actually achieve. So that's my plan this year, what's yours?

Movie Review: I Know How Many Runs You Scored Last Summer

Ok, you know what, the title says it all. And unless you get some sadistic pleasure out of forcing yourself through terrible horror movies, take a hint and stay away.

I on the other hand got a little bit excited trolling through Amazon for cheap horror movies I could laugh at.   Just look at the title, it has to be funny! They can't be taking themselves seriously with a title like that, right?

Well, I don't even know. I may be throwing in some spoilers here people, so if you're excited about watching this pile of wank then maybe you should look away, but I'm sure I couldn't ruin this film for you even if I tried.

It could maybe fall into the category of Aussie Comedy-Slasher or whatever, but all that means is a stupid film with lots of blood and unnecessary, over prolonged nudity. There is even a bit of body doubling from Miss Nude Australia going on, Miss Arianna Starr. Yes, there is a shower scene with the porn glow and hints towards masturbation...

Basically the film amounts to a pissed off bloke who was bullied by his cricket team as a kid, killing off his team members now that they're all grown up and he's developed super strength. There's really bad policing with one of those serial killer boards drafted up by the Australian sergeant, who is a bit of a tool. Then a British detective is brought in to aid the investigation, little do they know she is not part of the solution at all.

The cops collect up what's left of this old cricket team and put them all in a house in the middle of nowhere, calling it a safe house. Erm, I'm sorry but since when was a house in the middle of nowhere safe? Especially in a horror movie... So yeah story goes, they've put all the soon to be victims in the same house together to help out the crazy cricket guy kill the lot of them off in one go.

Dressed in a full cricket kit with a silly moustache and a big floppy hat, he goes around killing them with cricket related weapons. You have your state of the art cricket ball with nails hammered through, sharpened cricket stumps and of course the cricket bat. And if that wasn't enough, he also hammers (or screws?) nails into a cock guard (I don't actually know what they're called, but you know what I mean) to add a little bit of spice to his killings.

One guy sneaks off near the beginning to have sex with his lady friend - I don't know who she is, some woman who trekked to the middle of nowhere with a whip and handcuffs for a bit of a shag. Obviously, following the rules of a horror, he is the first of this lot to be knocked off. But not before getting his naked arse whipped by the killer a few times...

About 15 minutes is spent leading up to the death of one guy, with him sneaking around a room after finding a dead body behind him. I can only imagine this took so long because he was topless.

All in all the film goes nowhere. Everything took a really long time, but the film somehow felt incredibly short - however that works. And if it wasn't all ridiculous enough for you, they've thrown in a bit of incest at the end. Everyone loves a bit of incest when it comes to crazy murderous folk...

This film can now take it's rightful place on my list of worst films ever, along with The Forest and Wolf Creek etc

Go check it out =p

Monday, 28 December 2009

Just a shortie

Dear SuperArmy,

About a week later and the gas is apparently back! My house was one of the lucky few to get water in the pipes, meaning we got an extra three days of a cold house over the rest of the affected. After streams of gas men coming through my house, prodding and poking at pipes, today they finally hit their target! 3 visits from the gas men today, THREE. That's three moments of having the front door wide open letting the winter air engulf me that much more. But the cold is no more! No more shiverring and covering up in hundreds of layers!
Just thought I'd share my happiness at the prospect of a warm house (the house hasn't yet done the warming up part).

A big thank you to the wasters that caused all this fuss in the first place - I'm sure everyone loved having a cold house over Christmas and through the snow as much as I did.

Sunday, 27 December 2009

The ‘feminist’ shadow

For some reason the word ‘feminist’ comes with an array of negative connotations, it leaves a bitter taste in the mouth and has women running from being given the title. “I’m not a feminist!” becomes the theme tune for women too afraid to stand up for themselves, for fear of being seen as some unladylike creature. Feminism is un-feminine. All sorts of ideas about feminists haunt the air; they are all man-hating lesbians who don’t shave their armpits and bench press their anger in the gym whilst starting fires and breaking laws.

Fear of change has given birth to all the above stereotypes (along with however many others) to stunt the movement’s potential. The actual definition of a feminism (so says is ‘the doctrine advocating social, political, and all other rights of women equal to those of men’. All feminism is, is the belief that people should be equal – yet somehow it’s become a dirty word.

 "Feminism is the radical notion that women are human beings."
--Cheris Kramerae, author of A Feminist Dictionary, 1996

If it wasn’t for the feminist’s of our past, we wouldn’t have a vote; we wouldn’t have a voice. We wouldn’t have jobs or trousers or chances, yet these women in history don’t have our respect. They are hero’s, but are portrayed as nothing more than crazy, angry nightmares. The male-dominated power structure sees the threat and wants it destroyed, and what better way to destroy the opposition than to pump it’s being with negative labels to scare away new members of joining it. How dare those pesky women demand equal pay for equal work! How dare they try to make their own decisions about their bodies! What disgusting behaviour…

In people’s notion of feminism, they assume it is about women becoming the new power. About turning our society into a matriarchy, where women hold all the cards – but they’re wrong. It isn’t about power, it’s about equality. I personally think it is ignorant of human beings to assume anyone is better than anyone else, we all came from the same place and we are all going to the same place. What is so wrong in believing we should all be treated the same? Why is equality some evil that must be squashed?

People look at the state of men and women in our current climate and seem to think we have nowhere left to go; that this is equality. This is just another way of stopping us ever reaching an equal footing. Of course we’re not yet equal, and unless we see that we will never move forward. We cannot overcome what we cannot see.

Men are still paid more for the same work. Men still get more jobs over women applicants. Men are embarrassed if they’re ever over powered by a woman. The list goes on. On top of this, there are the women who think using their femininity to become successful is wrong and they must behave ‘like men’ if they want to succeed, but I think this is the wrong approach. Much of the system is based on male advantages and can be climbed with use of male characteristics, but there is nothing wrong with using female characteristics to get ahead and to build new ladders.

Somehow society has women fighting with one another, so they are too distracted to fight the state. Women see each other as a threat, as if only one woman can ever be successful or beautiful or happy so the rest are competitors. How can we ever be taken seriously in a plea for equality when we can’t accept such a concept within our own community.

I wrote this to submit to the feminist carnival with gender across boarders, check out more on The Feminist Carnival Here

And If you fancy submitting something too, click Here

Friday, 25 December 2009

Tis The Season…

…to get stressed out. At least it seems to be that way for most people. I think it’s something to do with the expectations rather than the season itself; people want too much from a day that promises the world without the power to deliver. There are the people who walk into Christmas celebrations, expecting it to be the best day of the year. They’re expecting a happy ending and love and peace and for none of those everyday things to matter; not on Christmas. But the problem with that is, everything still matters. If you don’t get on with someone, the day of the year isn’t going to change that. If you put a bunch of differing people in a room and force that specific spirit, it’s going to end with clashes and fisticuffs. If two people can’t sit a car journey without fighting normally, what makes people think today will be any different?

So we’ve got those people expecting the world, sat trying to force feed the realists their ideology. All this is doing here is pushing those people not absorbed in the lie, that much further away ‘causing people to try that much harder to convince you to get into the Christmas spirit; to have a nice day; to love them. The wedge, just growing and pushing so those over excited people are left disappointed and stressed out after a day of trying so hard and the other people wound up and hating the season that much more.

I think our best bet when it comes to getting through the season, is not expecting a thing. Can’t be disappointed if you don’t have things falling short of that bar. Expect the worst and then be happy when things aren’t as bad as they could have been. Enjoy the awesome food (‘cause Christmas dinner is clearly the best food you get all year round for some reason) and be happy this isn’t an everyday activity. Eat until you feel sick, then use it as an excuse to go lie down/have a nap… though this obviously has it’s downfall in the fact that eating too much leaves your jeans tight and your chin doubling (and the part where you feel sick...).

I am currently sat waiting for lunch (which I am actually looking forward to!) at my grans house. I have no internet, but the happy lappy came along for the ride to keep me entertained this year, so this gets to be an afternoon/evening post (if I manage to post it today that is).

Happy Yuletide folks! If I get a chance to write you a Christmas poem I’ll post it up =p

Thursday, 24 December 2009

It's Christmas Eve...

And in the spirit of Christmas I figured it was time to share my thoughts on the season. I think Christmas lost it's magic a while back, somewhere in between learning the value of money and discovering the truth about Santa. When you're a child the concept of a big fat man breaking into your house isn't nearly as disturbing... it's magical and fascinating and fills you with Christmas. But then you start to wonder, how fast does he actually have to be moving to hit all those houses in time? And how fat must he be after all those cookies and pies? And I wonder if Muslim kids get presents too? Oh and what about those kids that don't get chimneys? Maybe there's some sort of correlation between chimneys and good behaviour in children... after all Santa sells Christmas to kids for good behaviour and if you know he can't pay you a visit anyway, what's the point?

I remember finding this aeronautical engineers report on Santa when I was younger (after I found out it was all a lie) that I'm going to share with you. Check The Truth Out Here for the maths behind why Santa doesn't make it. Turns out he has to be travelling at 650 miles/second with a grand total of 0.001 seconds to get out the sleigh, get in the house, leave presents, eat and drink the goodies, fill the stockings, get back up and get off. But hey, if magic's possible, breaking rules of time and speed shouldn't be a problem! Oh and if you're sat there wondering about how fat he must be (which I know you're just bursting to know) that answer is worked out for you too! The friendly fatty would have consumed almost 3000 tons by the end of the evening, which I imagine would be hard to stuff down a chimney...

On the topic of Santa, I do find his story a good one. We start off in the 4th century with a nice old bishop of Myra: Saint Nicholas. Nick was famous for giving poor folk generous gifts, most notably these three daughters of a Christian bloke who were given dowries so they wouldn't have to turn to prostitution and start selling their souls on the street for grub. Turns out German paganism influenced our Santa in those early attempts to hold on to their traditions through the painful Christianisation. Apparently Santa and Odin have a few things in common - 13th century literature tells us Odin rode an 8 legged horse that could pretty much fly which is kinda similar to the reindeer... ok that's not that great a comparison, but Odin had a long beard too... Kids would leave boots full of carrots or straw for Odin's flying horse near their chimneys and as a reward Odin would replace the snacks with gifts. That sounds familiar to me... Oooh oooh and Odin's horse is called Sleipnir which sounds a little like sleigh to me, though that could just be the way I'm reading it! There's loads more I could say on the subject but you're not here for a history lesson - one last point I'd like to point at would be the red. Yes, if you don't already know Santa was given his red suit by CocaCola to help sell Coke! Ok that might not actually be true, but it's something I heard out on the grapevine. I asked the mighty minds at CocaCola (meaning I had a look online) and they say it was some guy called Thomas Nast who made Santa red and they just used his interpretation... believe what you want.

Moving more to the Christmas part, I do find it all a bit fake. From the forced family time to the over stretched materialism beyond ones ability to survive in our cheery Capitalism. But even when we're all broke and in debt, spending money we don't have on Christmas presents no one ever really appreciates is what Christmas has become. I'm not big on the Christmas cheer, not because I'm a scrooge, but rather more to do with the fact that I hate being forced to love. It's all a load of - expletives - and you know it! If I love someone why should I wait for birthdays and Christmas to show them and shower them in gifts and attention? Why not do it all year round? Nobody appreciates things they're given when they're expecting, people are far more pleased with love and gifts on any other day of the year.

Before the Christians stole the day, it use to be a celebration of Solis Invicti or "unconquered sun". Basically celebrating any of the sun gods pre Jesus - everything is just on repeat with a different name. There are no new stories or ideas, just old ones shuffled for a new audience. Winter festivals were always everyones favourite, probably something to do with not having to do much work any more seeing as farming in snow is pretty pointless. When it was time for things to change the Pagan Winter Solstice was pushed out and replaced with Christmas, but we still decorate trees and give each other gifts. I am curious as to when Christmas will be pushed out and replaced by whatever comes next, but maybe that's just what all this mainstreaming of the holiday is about. Buy buy buy!! This is our new religion; over here in the West at least.

So to sum up, my thoughts were along the lines of buh humbug but with a few historical references. Let's see if my three ghosts pop up and answer some questions for me, hey?

Happy almost tomorrow chaps =] hope you all ('all' not referring to many people, but an important bunch nonetheless) have an awesome holiday season whatever it is you're celebrating. And if you're not into the celebrating I hope you enjoy not having to work or the snow or even just reading this, 'cause you've got to try to enjoy things otherwise it all just takes longer to troll through!

Tuesday, 22 December 2009

Tips For Winter

I've been ill for weeks now. Normally I just stay in bed until I feel better, but after a certain amount of time you can't really afford to waste away anymore. But then came the snow - and with the snow went the gas. Thanks to the hard working men who dug up the pipes to work on them (but got bored of all the hard work and went home, leaving the pipes uncovered in the fabulous snow) 3000 people in Barnet now don't have gas. I have no idea how long it's going to be this way, but it means no heating and no hot water. Yay...

They've supplied little heaters and electric hobs but it's hardly the same. Those tiny fan heaters don't compensate for the lack of central heating going on and I imagine I will be ill for another couple of weeks because of it. But moaning wont get me anywhere, so I'm going to share with you some of the things I've been doing to keep warm.

  • Fireplace: Not everyone has a fireplace in their house but if you do, get some wood or coal burning and sit by the fireplace with any work it is you have to do. Nothing quite beats reading a book by the fire, I highly recommend it. Unfortunately we are almost all out of the wood we collected destroying old furniture and fixing up the garden during our redecorating this summer...
  • Layers: It's all about layering up when it's cold. I currently have a pair of trackies on underneath my trousers and a jumper over a t-shirt. I imagine I will be putting another hoodie/jumper on when the fire inevitably goes out. Two pairs of socks might be an idea too, one I've not got round to myself but I'm sure I will. And I reckon it's time to stop wearing those summer socks and grab the thick ones, your toes will thank you. The best sort of layering is just staying in bed... you've got a duvet and how ever many blankets you've thrown over it. You can tuck yourself in with your laptop and a nice warm drink (see below) and that's pretty much as cosy as you're going to get.
  • Hot Drinks: Making a pot of tea is a good plan. Keep the pot under a cosy so it holds the warmth and always have a mug in your hands - unless your hands are doing something that doesn't involve staying still and together. This keeps your hands warm and your insides warm too - but I imagine too much tea/coffee isn't the most sensible advice as a caffeine over dose can't do you any good. Hot chocolate works too =]
  • Electric Heaters: I've got one of those little fan ones that normally hang out under desks, keeping your feet warm. If you have warm feet it's only a matter of time before the rest of you follows suit (this brings us back to the sock idea)
  • Electric Blanket: I don't actually have one of these on my bed anymore. I came to the conclusion that they actually just make me feel kind of sick, which isn't the happy bed time feeling you want to aim for. But for some people they are amazing, keeping you toasty whilst warming up the whole bed. I'd recommend looking it to them if you haven't already, but if your body is as sensitive as mine it might not be worth the trouble.
  • Doors: Keep doors closed. The room will heat up faster this way, it just means the rest of the house will be a whole lot colder than you're prepared for as you step through thresholds. This is especially a good idea if you're working with one of those little electric heaters.
  • Cook: Cooking is always a sure fire way to heat up the kitchen and eating hot food is going to warm your insides up. Soup is one of those winter foods you should go learn to cook if you don't already know how.
  • Outside: Just don't do it. Don't go outside unless you absolutely have to, which I appreciate is actually most people as not everyone is a student or works from home. But if you're going to step outside wrap up! You want to be in gloves, a scarf and a coat if you're even thinking about braving the snow.

Have fun hiding from winter, I imagine you actually have heating in your house this Christmas so it's less of an issue. I will never take central heating for granted again!

Feel free to leave any tips of your own in the comments bit =D

Thursday, 17 December 2009

A New (albeit late) Discovery

I don't really like TV in general and tend not to bother watching it unless I am in serious need of some brain dead time or feel like I've been neglecting my mother and go watch some soaps with her over a cup of tea or two. This doesn't mean I don't like a good TV show when it comes around! There have been many to catch my eye, which for the most part I have streamed online when I can't sleep or slip into procrastinator mode. Now, there hasn't been a TV show that I have loved as much as I loved Buffy (snigger if you must but growing up to Buffy was fantastic). I'm not sure if my lack of loving is down to TV never being as good or just the fact that I got older and my love became harder to give away, but either way there has been nothing to make me feel the way Buffy made me feel. But perhaps this is a story I shall return to...

The point of this blog wasn't to reveal how much of a geek I am to the people who didn't already know, but instead to talk about Dexter. I keep hearing about it everywhere I go, but I've never put in the effort to watch it. I have no idea when it's on TV or even what channel airs it. Besides there are so many other things I need to be doing and other shows I need to work my way through (Insomnia is something that has been popping up since I was around 9 - but this is a story for another time too). Dexter even has Julie Benz in it, and generally having Buffy actors is normally reason enough for me to watch something...

So, about an hour ago I was sat at my laptop replying to emails and what not, mostly wanting to go to sleep but not being ready to give up on the day yet, when I decided to watch something to fall asleep to. I scoured watch-series for anything that I've not already watched that I would actually want to watch (scoured is kinda a lie) and came across Dexter. Sure, why not. People keep going on about it right? May as well give it a shot...

So here goes Episode one of Season one... and OH WOW. It is genius. How on Earth have I managed to miss 4 seasons of this show? Ok so they're short 12 episode seasons (unless watch-series is just lying to me, but I can usually trust it), but still - that's a lot of amazing to just pass under my radar. So here begins my new sleepless nights series. This year I have got through quite a lot - From beginning to either end or up to date - Grey's Anatomy, Sex and the City, Family Guy, Bones, Xena, How I Met Your Mother, Dollhouse etc etc for any I can't remember.

I realise I could spend my time more productively - after all if I have all those awake hours imagine how much work I could get done! Well - there was a time when that was the case. Perhaps I'll leave that story for another day too.

Wednesday, 16 December 2009

superpennie dot com

I have my website floating around in the cyber world just waiting for your lovely attention. Though it's not actually ready yet. I now own and will be making a website as soon as possible. So far it's just a page letting you know it's a process. Me and the freeola website are not friends, I have been battling with really simply things all day trying to sort out the website and the email addresses. Maybe I shouldn't blame freeola, I do have a mac and we all know that means everything is a little harder to achieve... I am looking forward to the day that it doesn't matter what platform I try to work on, because they can all work together. Mac does try to work with everything else, in their cute little way - but everything else seem to refuse to be mac friendly and I just don't understand. Ok and sure, part of my battle today is because I've never done this before and I am working it all out for the first time, but I am a firm believer in user friendly activities that don't discriminate against those unfamiliar. But maybe I'm just a little bit wound up that I can't do everything with ease.

I have stepped away from trying to sort all this out for the day to get ready for a performance this evening. It is really cold so I am delaying getting dressed and leaving the house (hence the blog entry)... I'm performing at Eastern Block tonight with a few other poets.
I used to work at a club called Ghetto when I was a fresher at university and it was by far the greatest club I had ever been too. But it was all down hill thanks to various factors - one of which being the government destroying Tottenham Court Road to build a cross rail - and is now under new management. As Eastern Block they are putting on their first poetry night, which if goes well may be repeated. So hopefully it'll be a good night.

I will be taking some copies of my album with me of course, in the hopes of making some sales *hint hint*.

Sunday, 13 December 2009

Kind of like a failure, but not really

I didn't get anywhere near my 50 poem mark today, it was a lot harder than I wanted it to be! The first few poems were fine, rolled right out but then I started running out of words. I didn't want to just be posting absolute shit (moderate is still editable =p) so I stopped when I had nothing left to say. Even though I was way out on my target I am still happy with the results. Speed writing isn't something I want to try in such large doses again, but forcing myself to write once in a while seems like a good idea if I'm having issues with productivity. I will go over the poems I wrote today during the week and touch them up a bit and maybe get one of them up on YouTube =]

I had some people suggesting titles at me over the past week which was nice and gave me lots of choices to work with and also means I have loads of left over titles if I feel the need to try any more speed writing! I even got a couple people joining in with me, doing a few speed poems of their own.

I think my favourite of today might be #10. Not Really Into Scaring Crows but I don't know...

#11. The Pink Clock Goes Tick Tock

The pink clock goes tick tock.
Biologically inside of me it calls for every
checkpoint. Joints disappointing artefacts
crumbling in time.
To wine and dine a masterpiece
To teach the ABC
To point to apples and to cars
and hear a tiny voice
repeating words that you have carved.

The pink clock goes tick tock.
The cat in the hat and the mouse in the house
douse rose water on the alter.
Faltering before insisting everything be
as you once saw it
behind your childlike eyes.
You create the same lies:
Of Santa getting stuck in a chimney
after one too many mince pies.
Of the tooth-fairy sneaking into bedrooms
and stealing children's teeth.
Of monsters under the bed
and red faces in the windows.

The pink clock goes tick tock.
Building blocks to podiums that we
never get to mount
as we run in a race that we
never even count. Bouncing glass off walls
in halls of shattered mirrors
getting nearer to that clearer end
hour by hour
minute by minute
the clock is not your friend.
It's pink is like a mask of joy
confusing souls to think their time will never come
running at the speed of light
to miss all our featured fights
we find ourselves on the last stretch
unappreciated; the unsung sketch.

#10. Not Really Into Scaring Crows

Rows of them sat up on that roof top
hopping around before they drop off.
Stopping our day while we all watch
that murder heard itself around us -
surrounding us and closing in.
Yeah it's called a 'murder' when there's
lots of crows,
did you know?
Figured I'd drop some literary references
dangle pretences in wet suspense
and question scaring crows at all.
How do scarecrows even work?
A stick and some hay in a shirt
poking out of the crops
maybe wearing a smirk.
These crows just sit on the wooden cross
lifting some failed hero stolen from the
horses, who'll now go hungry.
They are not afraid.
They're plotting. Something, I've not worked
out yet. Not that anyone would believe me.
"Hey mr, these crows over here 
are plotting to eat you,
rip apart your moustache and give you bird flu" 

The crows are growing. Evolving
into demons. Cascading into bullets
threatening the farmers wife.  
She's on the menu tonight
along with the dog, who's been taken for starters.
It's a scary place out on these pastures
it's no wonder he ran away.
When the girl with the sparkles
let the scarecrow down off his crucifix
he was shitting bricks.
Ran along the Old Road until he ran out
of all the yellow.
Mellowed out catching his breath
Left us here to watch them peck.
I guess I almost warned you
before they flew down and consumed you.
And I promise I didn't enjoy watching
them prize open the boy
or them deploying the second wave
wiping everything left out.
Not sure how they missed me
they seemed to resist me.
Bet your pissed I didn't try to scare the crows,
all those rows of them -

#9. Let's Get Back To The Spinning

Everything's always spinning; stopping is
for the end
pending an apocalypse or hieroglyphics
forced to bend out of the stone
and bone of ancient times
rewinding and fast forwarding
boarding chorus' of broken wings
it spins.

Missing the days the room moves
up and down
and round in circles
dolls speaking through skinless skulls
pointing to stars that never spun
running so far behind the speed of light
the dolls have us staring at a nothing
passing round a mirror
taking turns to move your world.
Purple sparks
burn through carpets
lighting buildings spinning mountains
under fountains planted by the dolls
you're not watching
'cause everything's always spinning.

#8. I'll Bribe Him With The Antidote

Sneak a peak behind the curtain
certain actions play routine.
I learnt his daily system
condemned him to his punishment
cementing his resentment in that
shallow whiskey on his desk.
As his heart starts to panic
he clenches at his chest
obsessed with this request on repeat
to stop the heat
to stop the pain
begging to let him walk away.
To see his pain makes things ok.
And in the fading minutes
as he cries and falls
I take it all and break his heart

#7. Slay Me A Werewolf In The Kitchen

It's like an invasion
on every occasion that the lunar
cycle takes a pause
and causes hoards of things with paws
and scary jaws that smile cold
to just pop up. Unfolding terrors
on my house
playing poker, joking about sucking 
my spouse. Lifeless
chewed through the flesh.
They make a mess and tear down walls
and smash my mugs
with angry calls of their own frustration
with the fur. Blurred entrepreneurs
running through woods
and knocking down doors
with floors of broken shards
just bleeding on my kitchen floor.
This is my call to arms 
for any slayers
ones who specialise in kitchen invaders
and have silver stakes. 

#6. Trading Poems For Jeans

On goes the hippie-hat
batting dreams of saving people
and breaking free of shackles
strapped to ankles of those working bees
left freezing out where violence
has it's podium
and human life has no value.
Grown from the Beat to embracing
sexual changes
sometimes all you need is love
or a cheesy line to strummed guitars
far out in fields
moments no longer real
and memories hazed over
by that puff of smoke
where the caterpillar recited poetry
and everybody ate the mushrooms
leaving behind a whole bunch of yesterdays
with very few tomorrows
rows lined up. Piled up.

#5. Voices In The Background

Sometimes they're real quiet
So you're left straining to hear them
Stemming from the back
Somewhere in the distance
Starting out by whispering answers
And helping you through tests
Contesting any ignorance
Prancing through protests with dance.
Advancing to your consciousness
Pulling on your ears
Until they start to drown out the foreground
Mounds of needs they need filling
Billing your being with a filling so dense
It just weighs you down.
Frowns get more frequent
Denting violent accents to your spine
Leaving twitching imprints
Hinted at from squinting flints found
Somewhere in youth.
In some undetected prodrome
Roaming all the corners
Your brain kept you out of.
Friends morphing into enemies
Banging violent energy confusing hopeless
Silhouettes getting lost in the shadows
Of white empty rooms
Assuming certain fumes will one day
Show their tombs

#4. When You Wish Upon An Alien

He grows up believing in some magic above
hovering in rain clouds or beneath
wings of a dove flying over arches made of gold
and gates never cold. So he'd hold his palms clenched
and close both his eyes
as he wished he could rise to the skies like the birds
and be free of the terrors inflicted on Earth.

He grows up asking the powers that be
to accept his fair sacrifice
and just hear his plea, for a life somewhere better
with a unicorn or two
where he'd play cards with Jesus
and get a new tattoo. One that could dance,
like the arms of cartoons. He wants a woman with boobs.
And muscles like Arny (when he toned down a bit).
He asks for more money
and for sex and a car. And just to be funny
John Lennon's guitar.

But as he gets older, he's being ignored
He hates the cold shoulder, the lord struck a chord.

He hijacks the radio waves,
slaves away for days to save
a brave youth with no responsibility
and a bank account with close to zero equity.

They found his body naked
with red circles on him painted
fainted in a forest, nests of game disturbed
pecking at his balding scalp
which crushed some baby birds
and murdered families once hiding in trees.

#3. Cross Fade To Purple

Interludes and endings always
fade to black or white.
They don't invite any intervention
to suspect a perfect height. Fighting
off all creation as it tries to fade away
as those moments of tension are
lost to fleeting greys, paying tribute
to contributing artists arresting their dreams.
Shelving all their projects above golden
speckled reams of wasted chances
and feared outcomes in the rows
or ordered chaos the boss had them
clean up.

Thirty-one-thousand days
wasted away. Hiding in his tinted purple box
to gleam in the light
to blind the teary eyed monsters
paying men to take him away
to a place hid in darkness
and eaten by bugs. Beneath rugs
of purple dust settled
he lays in wait.
Silently. Motionlessly.
Feeding soil and growing trees.

#2. The Likelihood Of Being

Our very existence is
a dot on a map. A tiny statistic in
an infinite wrap of disasters and
chance meetings. Our parents
through to ancestors.
Each decision domino-ing back
smacking any sense of anything
we currently might hold
until it's rolled to the very beginning of time.

On the theory it's not infinite that is.
Or completely static -
Finite and complete
Deceitful pre-made stories
so we can never see.

To understand this probability
is more than probably unlikely.
Freeing sperm and ovaries
combining pleas through time.
It makes no sense that we exist
but it couldn't be any other way.
The past is written by our hands
with no eraser to console.
We are unable to see our conclusion
and fail to see our sum
running from understanding
demanding a forced landing
running into forests to ensure we're always lost
on a mission to see something
we paint upon our faces.
Battle through to see ourselves
but we're simply self defeating
fleeting aims of grander
blander hopes of praise
raising eyebrows not children
to an ever failed race.
It's easier to believe that nothing is real
than to deal with the chance this
surreal shit reveals some crazy
yet accurate fractured ideal.

#1 The Mad Man In The Bush

His arms are spectacular
scarred by life's demands
they drip a certain kind of sweat
which charm those swooning hoes
blowing his troubles away.

I can see him through the window
sporting an indigo wife beater
and surfer boy shorts.
There's always wasted women
hanging from his limbs
playing games to win him
for an afternoon of bliss.
My jealous little heart doth bleed
to see them touch his bones
to lick away his misty brow
and steal my rightful moans.
To be the one to scream with him
well only time will tell -
Restraining orders are a pain,
he's dragging me through Hell.

Today's The Day

So it's 6.20 in the morning and I really wasn't expecting to be up and starting this early, but I'm here so I may as well start. Truth is, I kind of fail at the sleeping thing most of the time - apart from every so often when I am amazing at the sleeping thing and can do it for 20 hours... Guess which of those states I'm currently in...
At 2am I contemplated starting on the poems, but it almost felt like cheating. Like 2am was last night, not this morning and I was breaking some sort of rule. It's strange how we create rules and guidelines for acceptable ways to do certain things even if they, in reality, don't actually hold much value.

This is just a game, a challenge to see if I am capable and what I will come up with. I'll post them here as I go along and the titles'll go up on Twitter in case anyone decides to join in.
If any of them turn out good, then YAY. But who knows...

Thursday, 10 December 2009

The vampire fad of late

So, unless you've been trapped under a rock somewhere you have probably noticed vampires are in fashion. There's the Twilight madness and the Trublood thing happening as well as Brad Pitt jumping on the band wagon with talks of Vlad. Now vampires aren't a new sort of fad, people love vampire stories and have done forever (ok, forever is probably a lie) but suddenly it's a little different. There are vampires everywhere and everyone in the media world is grabbing hold of the vampire whirlwind, especially with Twilight doing so well (did I mention the madness).
I am a massive vampire fan, dating pre Robert Pattinson. Even dating pre Buffy but that was obviously the best vampire moment anyone has ever created. This being said I am enjoying all the vampire themes flying around, it means I have lots of choice over what I get to watch. It means I get to indulge in the sex, blood and passion of vampire stories, but it also leaves me a little worried. I am scared that with all the pushing of the vampire genre they are going to push it straight out the door. There is a pretty good chance they are just going to kill it and move on. And sure, the media couldn't care less if this is what happens, they'll just pick up another fad to tell everyone to like, do to death, and then move on from that too. But I don't want vampires ruined. I love vampires. I've loved vampires since I was four years old and walked in on my big sister watching a horror movie I didn't get shoo'd away from, where I got to see a sexy woman bite a fat man in a hospital and him running around scared and bleeding into public telephones attached to the wall, which had been cut off (if anyone has any idea what film this was I will love you infinite amounts).
I remember reading about Elizabeth Bathory for the first time sat in the library and getting an insane amount of excited at a 'real life vampire'. And then having that excitement rekindled reading Tales Of The Slayer where there's a short story about her (and a slayer... it was a Buffy book).
I was about to go on and tell you about all my exciting vampire connected memories, but I'm going to stop. I really am worried about the future of vampire stories, but I know that even if Hollywood kills vampires, it can't last for long. Maybe just a generation at most, but that wont really affect me. I'll always have Buffy as well as all the other great vampire shows/films around. Though I have to say, I had real issues with 30 days of night. Partly because the vampires were ugly, but mostly because humans could out run vampires occasionally. And the vampires couldn't always smell the people. It's like they were just picking and choosing when to follow rules. And this isn't about them changing rules, it's them picking rules for the film and not even succeeding in following those ones for the duration.

Wednesday, 9 December 2009

Rrrants In Camden

Last night I performed at the Rrrants gig at the Camden Eye. It was an amazing night, the best Rrrants night I have been to in fact. There was opportunity for open mic before all the poets who are part of the collective got up and did their thing. Rhthmical Ravings and Rants is a poetry collective and this year, have collected over 40 poets plus a whole bunch of musicians as well as getting an anthology out. To see any of the products they have on offer check out the online shop:

We all went up and did two 5 minute (ish) slots in a friendly and relaxed environment. I performed Eye for Eye and Prince Charming first, which went down well. I was a little scared I wouldn't remember Prince Charming, seeing as I've only performed it in front of people once before. Trying to perform poetry when you can't breathe and your throat hurts is not a fun time - I'm just going to throw that one out there. Winter is not my friend.
Last night also saw the likes of The Anti Poet, Mat Lloyd, Rob Auton as well as a whole bunch of others who you can check out on the rrrants page:

I got to see some people I have never seen before, which is always nice! Next year hopes to be even bigger and even better with the introduction of BardAid - a charity created to get contemporary poetry books into schools. I think this is a brilliant idea! I know most people's reactions to being invited to a poetry night just screams "GROSS!" and/or "BORING" so giving kids a chance to grow up reading poetry other than Shakespeare has got to help the poetry scene's reputation a little bit.

For now, I'll just keep plugging away in hopes of drumming up support the old fashioned way. But infiltrating young minds while they're at school is definitely the way to do it. That's how they mould society, by what they teach the kids at school.

Thursday, 3 December 2009

Gordon Brown invites What's-her-name over

I'm not a news blogger, I just found this a little funny. I don't know if you remember Gordon Brown getting the name of a soldier wrong not that long ago causing all sorts of upset, well he's only gone and done it again. But don't worry, this time wasn't the same sort of upset, telling MPs: “I’m very grateful that Renée Witherspoon is leading this campaign. She spoke movingly at the funeral of Anthony Minghella and I welcome her to the House today.”

Anyone heard of Renée Witherspoon? It was actually Renée Zellweger who spoke at Minghella's funeral. Reese Witherspoon was the one to pay a visit to Parliament yesterday.... 

Brown keeps falling into these embarrassing situations, I guess he's just getting on a bit. But saying that, he's a 58 year old man - should we really expect him to know the name of the lead actress in Legally Blonde? Maybe it's ok that he didn't know the name of the women he was inviting over, he's got to fill his head with all the worries of the UK as it crumbles around him. So long as he can do something productive in his attempts to save us, who really cares if he has a hard time remembering the names of certain people? 

Wednesday, 2 December 2009

My 50 Poems In A Day Project

On the 13th December I will be attempting to write 50 poems. I've never done the speed writing thing before and was inspired by a guy called Tim Clare who wrote 100 on the 26th November ( I don't think my first attempt at speed writing should be so grand, so I'm aiming for a semi-spectacular feat of 50 instead.
Normally with poetry the title is the very last thing to come, it's something that reflects the poem, but with speed writing you need a direction otherwise you'll just get lost in the sea of possibilities and never get anywhere. You need to be specific to get things written quickly, so I am compiling a list of titles and will be posting on Twitter as I go along so people can play along if they want =]

Follow the adventure: Twitter

I'll post the creations up on a blog (either on this one or I'll create a separate one and link to it).

I don't expect to create 50 pieces of gold, but let's see what I come up with.

Because I had never tried the speed writing thing before I gave it ago yesterday and rolled out three poems. The first two of which I actually really like and will probably do something with and the third of which I actually deleted. From this experience I have a feeling that the 50 poems may get increasingly worse as the day goes on...

I imagine I probably need to do some sort of math and work out how long I can allow myself to spend on each poem and give leeway for toilet breaks and snacks. I'll do the coffee thing so I'm awake and not hungry to save time on the cooking and the eating.
I think if I wake up at 10 (I am not a morning person...) I'd leave my self 15 minutes a poem until 11pm. This allows for me to go over if need be in the last stretch to midnight. So if I aim for 10-13 minutes a poem that should allow for the little breaks here and there.
I just hope I wake up....

Tuesday, 1 December 2009

World AIDS Day

Today is World AIDS Day and the media is red all over the place, so I'm going to share some facts I picked up from the World AIDS Day website.

In the last ten years the number of people living with HIV in the UK has trebled. Three times as many people in ten years! How could we have let this happen? We're an advanced society and we have access to a world of information yet somehow people just don't know much about it.

When people think of HIV or AIDS, normally they either think of people in Africa or the gays. AIDS is just one of those far off things that doesn't affect you... only we can't all be so blasé about it anymore. We need to spread the word, so at least everyone knows what we're even talking about. HIV is a virus that attacks the bodies immune system, it destroys the bodies defence against things we otherwise would have been able to cope with. The difference between HIV and AIDS is its development; someone is considered to have AIDS when the immune system is so weak it can't fight off the diseases humans can normally handle. Imagine an everyday cold escalating into something dangerous, all because your immune system has been shot to pieces.

HIV can be passed on through blood, semen, vaginal fluids or breast milk if infected. The most common ways it can be transmitted are, 1) sex without a condom, 2) shared needles/syringes and 3) From a HIV+ mother to her child during pregnancy, birth or breastfeeding.

This is something that is affecting more and more people and has no cure. Now days we have pretty effective treatment for HIV to keep the immune system healthy but if left too late that's not going to be all that useful.

Let's all try to raise awareness. That's what World AIDS day is all about, along with raising money, fighting prejudice and increasing education. And if you want to do more check out the link below for ways to help raise money or for events.

HIV is a threat to men, women and children all over the world and shouldn't just be dismissed as something that could never affect you. There is a lot of stigma around HIV/AIDS, either down to peoples own fear or ideas on what it must mean about a persons lifestyle if they have the disease. This stigma often fuels other prejudices, such as homophobic behaviour. A lot of the time prejudices are the result of little or no real understanding on a subject. People fear what they don't understand. So let's take a stand to tackle this stigma and to try to help the people affected.

Thursday, 26 November 2009

Behold, The Album!

Hello Internet.
I have created an album consisting of a collection of my poetry, including a bonus track which cannot be found online as well as a few other never before heard tracks.

Artwork by Gregory Gaige

It only costs £4 plus P&P and any money I make is going towards the budget of my first short film. I need to get prosthetics and make up and stuff -

You can check out my poetry at my Myspace or on YouTube to get an idea of whether it's something you are going to like or not. It's Christmas time, so what a wonderful present it could make for someone =p


Buy my CD!

SuperPennie - From The Outside In
£4.50 + p&p
Be sure to click either the UK or Worldwide option to ensure the postage is right =]

SuperPennie - From The Outside In

Friday, 13 November 2009

I am sat here with my best mate making some sort of steps towards something... I've got him drawing my album artwork so I can start selling CD's of my poetry at gigs and online. I do love artists. I feel like I missed out on valuable skills growing up, I can't draw, I can't do music, I can't do science. These are all things I imagine make life that little bit better. But I can read and write and I guess those are the basics, so they have to be worth something. Still though, can't help but being a little jealous of everyone with skills I don't have. I guess that is just the way things go, everyone wants what they can't have. Human nature and all that. At least my issues lie in talent and not material possessions, I've accepted writers hardly ever hit the real money.

I went to a careers in the media course this week, at which I discovered a) to succeed you need to be really lucky, b) you need as much experience and (useful) qualifications as possible and c) it's all about who you know. And ok, all that being said, I didn't really 'learn' anything new. So with very little faith, I am left with a challenge I can either chose to attempt or walk away from. I am obviously tackling the challenge head on, I wouldn't want to do anything else. I love writing.

That being said, I will work out how to sell my album online and I think you should all consider purchasing it, as if all goes well it will be the cheapest way to get hold of my poetry. Fingers crossed all goes well =]

Tuesday, 10 November 2009

And So It Begins

So, here I am. I have to admit this whole 'blogging' thing seems strange to me, it's as if I am baring my soul for the world to see. It almost makes me feel a little uncomfortable how close to me readers could get, it's the same sort of feeling I get from Twitter. Suddenly the world has full access to my every thought. At least with Facebook you have some control over who can see you, who can scour pictures of your face and read you mind with each status update - something like this leaves me defenceless. Ironically, I'm a poet. Or at least I like to think I am. Poetry is traditionally about such soul baring, shouldn't that be the same thing? Well, yeah sometimes. But poetry gets to come under the guise of 'art', almost as though it's the baring of someone else's soul instead.

Right, so I'm going to stop saying 'soul baring' 'cause in effect that doesn't even mean anything. It's just an empty saying to express some idea I expect you all to be familiar with, without actually offering up anything of itself. What is a 'soul'? If I had an answer, this wouldn't be the entry to divulge it in.

This is the part I introduce myself to the world (for the millionth time no doubt). I am Pennie Varvarides (aka SuperPennie - look me up if you're curious) and words get me off some kind of crazy. Like an actor as he takes a stage, writing something I expect people to see leaves me tingling and anxious. It's that sick to your stomach feeling you get when you're nervous and excited and embarking on a new adventure. And ok sure, blogging isn't much of an adventure but who knows where it'll lead me.

I plan to get a real website at some point. Some point soon (Jingle bells, Jingle bells....), until then this can be my playground. I can't tell you what to expect, other than me waffling on about the things that make me happy - or more likely angry. I'm not even sure how likely it is anyone will ever read any of this beyond my immediate friends. But heck, I just want to write something that isn't a philosophy essay.