This Is Wrong On So Many Levels

2 + 2 = 5 stars! Radiohead on TV!

New to the Spotify Channel  While on tour with his band mates Thom Yorke is in a tour bus crash. Fortunately an Airbag saves his life but his bones are still seriously inured. Using the newest advanced technology a mysterious organisation known as the Karma Police rebuild him with bionic technology. Is he the new Six Million dollar man or just dollars and cents gone to waste? Lucky to be alive and assigned a plucky female partner, the earnest Ms. Honey Pablo, Thom uses his new senses to solve crimes while touring the world. Enhanced abilities, such as climbing up walls, innumerable calculations in his scatterbrain and with a new iron lung the melancholic singer fights for what is right and Just.  This is: NEW YORKE, NEW YORKE Created by Donald P. Bellisario                    & Glen. A. Larson While generally fitter and happier this new agent codenamed, the King of Limbs, must face a plethora of new threats, bodysnatchers, the mysterious spy (over)dubbed the Creep and a criminal kingpin known only as Mr. Magpie. Has Thom become a super enhanced  human or is he just a Paranoid Android in a shaky House of Cards? "Bullet Proof I wish I was."  HE IS NOW! Episode 1: "Everything in its right place" Newly re-built and operating at pitch perfect levels Thom's first case involves protecting a child prodigy known only as Kid A from the clutches of assassin The Eraser. Episode 2: "Hail to the Thief" A case involving corporate espionage as an Electioneering process goes awry for a high up political leader plagued by a campaign informant. Thom and Ms. Honey resolve to not let down their newest client. Episode 3: "How to Disappear Completely" People are going missing at Radiohead concerts and Thom is optimistic he can solve the case. Will he need to call on his OK Computer hacker friend Idio-Tech to help him out? Episode 4: "Life in a Glasshouse" Abducted by a foreign government, Thom is forced into gladiatorial contests against Hunting Bears to test his feral abilities. (Part 1) Episode 5: "You and Whose Army?" Concluding part. Thom is liberated by army forces and must discuss his time in Limbo with a new psychiatrist a Ms. Sarah Treefingers. (Special guest star Bjork) Episode 6: " Fake Plastic Trees" The band find themselves in a mysteriously perfect town while promoting their newest album. What dark secrets are concealed in this town when the band go to sleep?  Episode 7: " We Suck Young Blood" A Halloween Special as Thom faces an industrious vampire cult who are mass-producing victims in a warehouse packt Like Sardines in a Crushd Tin Box. Episode 8: "Amnesiac" Following an Amp explosion Thom loses his memory and joins Muse as a backing musician. Can the band convince him that anyone can play guitar for Muse and that he certainly doesn't belong there there?

Episode 9: "Jigsaw Falling into Place" The identity of the Mysterious Mr. Magpie is revealed at last as...Phil Selway!? Yes Radioheads most underestimated member has his knives out and attacks our hero. Episode 10: "Blurring the Lines"  Part of Spotify Channel crossover week. The band tour with secret agent act Blur. An Al-barn storming action packed episode. Episode 11: "Where I end and you begin" Having long denied his feelings for Honey, Thom must find a way to serenade his beloved or be left high and dry when she settles down with her mystery fiance.  Episode 12: "Exit Music (for a tv series)" The season finale sees Ed O'Briens career hang in the balance as Thom and Phil have a bitter fight that culminates in a Punch Up at a wedding... Honeys wedding to Johnny Greenwood!! Will Thom stop whispering his feelings for her and tell her the truth before it's too late? "No Surprises this is a show that won't make you sulk, as pleasant as a (nice dream) but with enough bends in the plot to keep you guessing. True love waits and it was worth the wait in this case!"-  Tuning(in)fork (not affiliated with Pitchfork) Authors Note: This is a dedicated to Paula Larkin for her birthday! one of the biggest Radiohead Heads I know!

A Contortionist Writes a Poem about his Job

We fit into boxes when             needs be I can bend my arms sdrawkcab the same with my                          knee I both meta(liter)phorically(ally) put my mofootuth                                           north When something should be        its usually                                             south. They dont need to twist my arm much you can see from how flexible my skkkkiiinnnn is I'm a soft enough touch.   I do get tangled pu at the best of times and in most social situations I'm all thumb(x1000000) I can fit in any drawer, use it like a bed I love my work from toe to head,   the act of c   n   o  t  n                     o   t   r   i  g is my life's work. I make my living from a quirk it's what I'm head                   heels for its what pays for my meals I cant ask for any more.

Total Crop Out

A lot of people would not like my life. I get it. I mean when your entire world is basically 4 x 6 and you're frozen to the spot, stuck in a continuous moment of "action", it can get pretty tedious. But see, I don't view it like that. I prefer to think I have a smile on my face forever. Stuck in a moment of happiness, my arm around the person I assume my real life counterpart is involved with. Well that may be way off the mark. Once the picture was taken, my whole universe cooled into existence, but I'm the reflection of what I hope is a happy memory. I see my picture-mates real life counterpart hovering in the sky every so often. She owns us. Her hands are soft and she takes care of our reality. Minimum bending. Now the real person I represent isn't much to look at, so I share that burden but who do I have to impress? I got my version of a gal right beside me. Although...she can be a bit much at times. Manic Pixel Girl. You know the type.  As a life though this is limited but rewarding. Sure it has its other problems. Being on the other side of the gloss can be uncomfortable and those photo albums are dusty and full of bugs. And if you're framed, there's an awful glare that bounces back at you. It's also like one gigantic contact lens hitting your eyes at all times. It makes me squirm. At least I don't have those red eyes some of my friends got though. It's funny, a whole underground scene has popped up about that, because those afflicted have tried to spin it in their favour. "Hey baby, it's not red eye...we call it "Lens Flair" and I got it!"  Ha! Good luck with that. It's a little strange knowing I have a digital twin who has probably been copied a million times by now. That day was odd. Like going to the dentist if I knew what that was like. I may have an eternal smile but it's thankfully a toothless one! But yeah, the Day of the Scanner. It was very invasive and to be digitally reproduced like that was unnerving to say the least. If that's the only way for us to have offspring, count me out. So yeah all is pretty goo...Wait a second. I see something strange in the sky of the photograph, a silver streak moving across it. It is coming in at an unusual angle and the whole world seems to be bending to accommodate this strange device. It suddenly has a sibling, another stretch of gleaming silver. They have now come incredibly close to each other and appear to be...kissing? Maybe sibling is the wrong word and these two are...lovers?  I don't know what's happening but the backdrop, my home for the last few years is falling away. I'm being plucked out of everything I've ever known. I still smile because I can't do anything else. I want to shut my eyes but I wasn't a blinking shot.  If a photograph could bleed I would be now as I've just lost my arm, most of it staying behind, as it remains awkwardly wrapped around my co-star. She whispers a heartfelt goodbye and as much as I'm in pain I can't help but feel even worse for her. She now has a wound in her entire world and she's stuck there beside an abyss where I once was. The way I see it, I have no idea where I'm going to end up, the slums of a scrapbook, the gallery of a notice board, the grim black of a bin or bag, exiled and torn, a two dimensional reject left to crumple. Maybe worse, it could be the flames of perdition through an ordinary fireplace. Cool wood. I am flat down on a desk. **************************************************************************************************

So this is it. I have been assigned my new position. The face who most often looked at me from the heavens, smiling, is now some distance away but I can still make her out but only as a silhouette. She laughs sometimes, when the darts hit a certain part of my anatomy, a point below my belt. She always gets one right in my forehead as well. She has impeccable aim, no doubt spurred on by anger. The first dart is usually off target and hits the spartan white wall I now call home. Staring across its vast never-ending plain offers two things, the hint of escape and the certainty of how futile that would be. Traversing the white would be impossible and besides I am pinned here at the sides.

People say things are gone in a flash. That's where it began for me. All I can do is wait for the onset of stains and the approach of natural fading. I've heard that on some days, in a certain light, it looks a little like Sepia. Well, I always wanted to be so rich.

Review: The Music Tapes w/ The David Nelligan Thing - Cyprus Avenue, Cork, 12.07.13 - Noise

Review of The Msic Tapes w/ The David Nelligan Thing at Cyprus Avenue in Cork July 12th 2013.

A review I did of Elephant 6 outfit the Music Tapes for wearenoise.com.

Pre-Nups and the Pope- A Poem for Exit Strategy

A little while ago the talented duo Leah Hearne and Eszter Nemethi asked me to contribute a poem to their excellent genre-straddling piece of work entitled "Exit Strategy". It deals with the theme of people having escape plans from situations and aspects of their lives.  Given the title "Pre-Nups and the Pope" and a loose idea of what the play was about I went to create something flippant and word play heavy. I tried to structure it a little like a song, even though I know that some of the phrasing would make that next to impossible but it's why I added a  "chorus" of sorts and a "bridge part"! It was also to see if I could find enough rhymes for "Pre-nups". The poem, alas, did not make the play but I'm proud enough of it, so I present it here instead.

While some people like to see how things will play out, Others even at beginnings always have  a way out, Despite a strong mind or any designations, People are resigned to their many resignations People will risk some damaged cred to escape from this, their marriage bed

But when it comes to leaving others get on their box of soap We all live in a world of half filled cups and those who mope a world of pre-nups and the Pope. You think half way through surgery the Doctor skips out? Or that a sea captain is in a hurry to leave his vessel once it ships out? It is a truism to sing that a winner would never quit Truer wisdom is something to which you must fully commit If people are ready to try and opt out Couldn't that be just nothing more than a cop out?

But when it comes to an exit some people just say "Well nope", We all live in a world of hang ups and those who can't cope a world of pre nups and the Pope.

When you make a promise you stick with it to the bitter end, If you're honest you shouldn't be quick with it to run out my friend Despite a Holy and divine Edict He was still able to resign that Benedict You think if Jesus had said "Anyone instead of me!" He would have been waiting around in the Garden of Gethsemane!

Of the human condition this is but a recurring trope Everything is a potential prison and we all look beyond our scope to see whats what's up in this kaleidoscope in this world of pre nups and the Pope

(Bridge part)

Following a Crowd, before ducking out A situation that is probably sucking out your time and your very own space When you were a kid, did you ever leave a race?

There should always been a safety net But bravery usually means "not safe yet" You're turning your back on faith, well that's just atheism You're running out on your country, where's your patriotism? It doesn't matter if you're a fool or a prodigy Everyone is after their very own exit stratey.

And we all in our various ways go through this type of thing in these precarious days We all walk the tightrope Don't look down at the sheer drops or the steep slope Oh dear, the pre nups and the Pope! Authors Note: Exit Strategy have set up a fundit to take their production to Dublin. Support it if you can here: http://www.fundit.ie/project/exit-strategy-to-dublin-fringe-festival

Judo Intellectuals

The crowd was going wild as the two combatants social circled each other ready to pronounce, if the chance presented itself. They began to chant the name of the younger fighter, an artist who was given the public tested nickname of Sugar Man Ray Leonard. Thing is he was called that because he was boxing clever. But that would do him no good. This was judo. The more experienced fighter was dubbed the Obscure as he had a plethora of knowledge that served him well in his previous matches. He had swiftly defeated Thesaurus Rex and the Hip-Ocrite was no match for his peerless learned off references and his relentless posturing. He bristled at his nickname, fearing some people would assume a thematic link to the band The Cure, a musical outfit far too well known for this individual to associate himself with.  His coach stood on the sidelines, chewing on his stereo-gum mouthing the lyrics from a million Japan only released b-sides. He had prepared his fighter well but you never know where a heated conversation could go. In this world of Wikipedia as the ultimate training tool, fighters had it tough. Everyone was so well informed these days. As Sugar Man Ray unleashed a shaky but compelling treatise on the disestablishment of outdated draconian governmental ideals the Obscure felt his intellectual mettle take a bit of a knocking. Politics was a weak area and he had made the mistake he always did. He wasn't holding a liberal arts magazine in front of his face as protection. He began to sweat and looked towards the timer. Was it really the same round? It had felt like this particular period of time was stretching on as long as a contemporary art installation. The polymath just didn't add up. Following another well timed satirical swipe from Sugar it was clear he was struggling with his topics and lazily slurred a passage from Franny and Zooey in an attempt to steady himself. "That's as deep as you go Salinger-wise buddy? Pathetic!" his opponent taunted him. "Let me introduce you to my little friend Seymour.." Another direct hit. The Judgemental corner began scribbling in their moleskins and this fight seemed to be ready to Finnish like it was Apocalyptica.  To be fair, in traditional judo punching isn't allowed but the other fighter had gotten in his punchy prose before anyone was talking about getting punches in. Things hadn't always been this way. He had loved to absorb cultural touchstones as a child for the sake of proper learning but it was when a teenage desire to "take on the system" had mutated into a smug 20-something hubris did he realise he had lost his way. What was once a Scott Pilgrimage for him had now become just another Ghost World of thwarted ideals and expressionistic graphic novels. And the fighting industry wasn't the same either. The "Psuits" had it all sewn up, in both meanings of the phrase. Obscure wasn't ready to just fade into obscurity that easily and with a well planted zinger on his opponents moniker. "You should be called Sigur Ros Leonard!" he got his second wind. But it was probably the first wind most of the crowd had heard of. He stepped up his game, readying his signature move, a complicated maneuver his critics had called "The Pullman". It was just an elaborate name for back-Philip that he'd poetry slam on Sugar but the timing was very important. It was his turn to taunt. "Stop hitting your Will Self! Stop hitting your Will Self as he spun his way around Sugar Man Ray he began spouting film reviews of of French New Wave cinema, adding some bland platitudes about a cultural Renaissance. His mixture of classicist film critiques before a swift super(upper)cut of famous film quotes and insults proved too much for his once formidable foe. "I always said I'd hurt you,"The Obscure said in a moment of faux sincerity to his enemy. " I told you I'm a fuck up who would mess you up in the long run." Sugar Man Ray conceded defeat, reasoning that he had a mean Left Agenda. "But then I lean on my left a lot too," he consoled himself. Retiring to his library just outside the ring he began to lick his wounds and apply for unrealistic environmental drives. The Obscure had won the day and perhaps garnered too much acclaim. He knew his career was over but he was going out in a big cult classic way.  The Referee/Lecturer held up his hands to the build of an ecstatic crowd cheer.  This was the crowd who had just minutes ago wanted Sugar Man Ray to truimph but they had quickly changed their minds. I think it's called backlash. "Well Educated Ladies and Thoroughly Well Researched Gentleman. I present to you The Obscure who is our new Noam Chom-pion!!"

Batman and the Case of the Circular Haiku!

Thinking about the 1960s Batman series a lot lately, prompted me to consider how often some very surreal threats loomed over the Dynamic Duo. They were to be turned into musical notes or ice cream cones or put through various other outlandish ordeals. So I wondered what would happen if "classic villain" Circular Haiku turned Batman into that most sinister of syllabic sadism?  Will the Maniac of Meter crush the Caped Crusader? Does this (P)rose have the sharpest thorns of all? And will it be Haiku or HIGH NOON for our heroes? Find out in "From the Sonnet to the Slaughter House!" Arkham's gates clattered Batman had to fight his foe Circular Haiku Robin was reading Some dusty Wayne Manor book Message from Dark Knight So Robin read on "Something has occurred old chum Changed into text." "Holy Pulp Poetry! Must find some way to reverse  This nefarious verse!" Batman remembered How in the past he had shown Flair for beat poetry.  Ka-Pow! Zonk! Gins! Berg! Poetry Slam! Zap! Wham! Kero-Whack! Batman freed himself. Back in his body "Haiku you are out of line! Poor deluded poet." Used his punchy prose And Haiku was defeated. "Keep on Reading Kids". Batmobile sped up Haiku was brought to Justice. Arkham's gates clattered...

Love On Trial

Love waltzed up to the witness stand

He had nothing to hide, he was a legitimate

business man,

in a dapper suit, looking like a real beaut,

he took an oath on the bible, crossed his heart,

after a sip of water the cross examination could start.

The lawyer paused, his mind filled with thoughts

of old flames burning, nostalgia out of its box "Mr. Love" he stood as he began,

his tone the biased one of the celibate man,

"Tell the court what it is you,

as the embodiment of Love actually do?"

"Well," replied Love, with a strong baritone,

" try and make sure no one ends up alone".

"That dance in your stomach when you notice someone

Those days that look bright even in the absence of Sun

When you notice special people,

the ones that spin in a circle

inside your head.

The Chills, that's what I give you, it pays the bills

and keeps me well fed."

"So, you're a humanitarian, can turn the bookish boy

into a barbarian,

you inspire poets and the don't know its,

the dreamers, you give truth to believers,

Well Mr. Love you're caught out, if that's even your

real name which I very much doubt.

I propose you're a fraud, a money grubbing toad

who was making a living, of sucking people in

and you feel you'd sweeten the deal

by allying yourself with that man!

Let the record show, that I did and know-

­lingly point to the month of February not Jan!

That both of you started to hope,

that if you schemed, you could be teamed

up and take, the money people make

with a dirty trick of telling folks,

to be romantic on this day more than most!"

Defence counsel objects, "This is a terrible outburst

it makes no diference, he hasn't the evidence

to back up his claims, alibis check out, I don't see any names

of people to support or refute, but I guess it doesn't hurt to dispute

but his argument is to his cases detriment

it makes him look witless,

your honour, please use your power,

he's badgering the witness!

and Romance isn't dead,

the bullet only grazed his head.

He's in a bad way, I think he's in a coma,

We'll have to wait see if the police locate

that blue Toyota.

There's no case here, they're in denial

I say we move to a mis-­trial!" The Judge stony faced and taciturn

remarked "When it comes to love

even the scholarly have much to learn.

I don't know if Mr. Love is indeed

a co-conspirator in this act of greed.

If he and Feb got together,

to see if they could help one another,

but Love has made mistakes in the past

the crimes committed in his name are vast.

Then again the man has made such beauty

that even a old warhorse such as I am forced

to concede.

Romance was the first victim

but this isn't just about him

I say this to you Prosecutor.

Where was the defendant on the night

of the Valentines Massacre?!

Oh I've been a judge a long long time

but even I think this a heinous crime

and the case is a mess,

Let me consider the evidence presented,

is Mr. Love a good man or is he demented

I'll make my ruling after a short recess!" While I hate to end on something of a stiff clanger All questions of Love must invariably end on a cliffhanger...

My top 10 Favourite "End of Year Lists" list

10. My own Facebook statuses and Tumblr posts - Quality, naturally, but back at the end due to my relatively low audience compared to the rest of this list. 9. Rolling Ston...- Ha can't keep a straight face for that one! 8. Stereogum - Premature end of year list happened back in Feburary. 7. Empire On-line- The Empire fails to strike back. 6. The Ticket- Sign o' the Irish Times. 5. Uncut albums of the year -what's the latest Americana release to completely pass me by? 4. Pitchfork - hip hop is the new indie...We swear! 3. Culture Magazine -Camilla Long is the worst film critic I have ever read. 2. Wire - decoder ring to follow in January 2014 edition. 1. Sight and Sound- Both comprehensive and at times incomprehensible.

Left

the first time we hold

on this earth

was to the most perfect

flirty dirge

and blessed are the mixed

signals

because it's where false hope

does flourish

in dreams to the left

and in the most solid gray

the amber eyes of the past

with flies out my mouth when i

should have something to say

I can not speak for too many of

this times so called men

but I echo the thwarted

when I say

get me something sharp that I can wield

again