I am trying to make the most of London. Coming up with silly challenges seems to be the goal. So I am stealing an idea my cousin had for Sydney, but doing it in London. It’s a Food World Cup.
Basically, during the course of the FIFA World Cup, I am going to try and eat food from all 32 countries that have qualified.
A few thoughts going into it:
1) I am probably not going to get all 32, but I will try. Some cheating (diving?) might have to be done. Both Korean nations will get grouped together.
2) You’d be surprised how many of the obscure countries have a food presence in London. Ghana, South Africa, Brazilian, Argentinean, Swiss… all these are sorted. Add to that the wonderful food markets in London, and it’s going to make for a fun little exercise.
3) It’s not all going to be in London. There are a few trips already planned in the UK, and I will be looking for good food in those places.
4) It’s not all going to be restaurants either. Food stalls, fun snacks, maybe even some cooking on my part? Who knows.
5) I am going to play it pretty loose with the dates. In fact, I’ve got a two week head start. It is a summer project. And many poor friends have been dragged into this as well.
6) I wish the nation of Dim Sumnia made the World Cup.
30 for 30 – as I reach my fourth decade of being, I’m writing about some of the things that made the three that came before what they were. 30 – mostly trivial – things that have been a part of 30 – mostly trivial – years.
5. PODCASTS
Fresh Air's Terry Gross, hosting the show in 1987. Still the greatest interviewer we've ever had.
Something different for this entry.
Podcasts are awesome. They have been a big part of my life for the last 5 years. Every week, I spend hours listening to podcasts – which is more time than I spend on eating probably.
So it’s odd how little we talk about podcasts.
I’ve learnt so much about the world from them. They are such a rich source of interviews, entertainment, education, comedy – everything. All the things I loved about community radio and talk radio has now become podcasts. By subscribing to dozens of them, I have my own custom radio station, with just shows I like.
And it still seems like a secret world. It seems like most people I know don’t follow podcasts.
—
There’s also no discussion on great podcasts. Ones that help define the medium. I guess because it comes from all places – slick professional radio stations to one guy rambling into a macbook. Still, there is no critical council for podcasts – no reviews, no Oscars, etc.
It’s also hard to say what is best as there are just so many podcasts. It’s an utterly fragmented world.
—
So with that said, here are some podcasts I love. And some reasons why.
(Name – source/topics covered/format/frequency)
—
Fresh Air – public radio/general interest/interviews/daily website – iTunes
This the place to start with podcasts.
Running since 1975, it’s one of the most highly regarded shows in public broadcasting in the US. Hosted by Terry Gross, it covers the gamut of life – from presidential candidates to obscure singer songwriters. Soldiers, actors, scientists, historians – they are all here, completely engaging. Gross is probably the best interviewer in the world – she has a casual air that draws in the listening and disarms her guests.
I have lived with Fresh Air for about 5 years and it’s the perfect daily podcast. Mainly because I can skip past the repeat shows and the topics that don’t interest me. But In any given week, there are 3 if not more shows I want to hear.
Sometimes I think Gross knows everything in the world ever. She can quote Vic Chesnutt lyrics in front of Michael Stipe and she can explain the global financial situation.
—
Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me – public radio/news/game show/weekly website – iTunes
The best produced podcasts on the web. It’s a game show about the week’s news, with a panel of always funny contestants, hosted by Peter Sagal (and sidekick Carl Kasell).
There’s no shortage of superstars walking through either – from ZZ Top to George Stephanopoulos to Leonard Nimoy. Once you get to know the format and the hosts, the show is hugely rewarding.
This is the first podcast I listen to on a Monday. It starts the week in a good way – informed and amused. Who else does one deal with life?
—
Sunday Night Safran – public radio/religon, ethnicity/talk/weekly website – iTunes
There is no one else like John Safran. Shameless, fearless and tactless, he tackles the toughest subjects in modern life – religion and race. And he tears it apart, laughing the whole time.
Safran is joined by Father Bob, the 75 year old Priest who is a personality all of his own. Together they tackle the spiritial and racial threads in a variety of topics. Be it an art exhibition about a minority in Australia to interviewing Richard Dawkins.
I’m making it sound more serious than it is. It does make you think though, as Safran and Bob take things apart very cleverly (if they aren’t fighting).
It’s one of the few podcasts I follow from Australia, as most of the ones I loved has now stopped (top of the pile was Andrew Denton’s Enough Rope).
The Onion has been lampooning news since 1988. Their service offers two podcasts – audio news and video news.
Audio news sounds like a radio station news break. Short and sharp – the stories are usually under a minute (and always hosted by the awesome Doyle Redman). Some headlines include ‘God Cites Mysterious Ways As Motive For Killing’. It’s definitely out there.
The real treasure though, is the video stuff. Made like a 24 hour news network would look, with it’s own branded shows, the Onion News Network is some of the funniest things you’ll ever see.
Those are a few of many, many excellent videos. The Onion Sports Network is a spot on parody of ESPN, to the point where it’s been comissioned for a weekly TV show. I also love Today Now!, the morning magazine program. But really I love it all.
So the point is this. Some of the best comedy virals from the last decade have come from a podcast! Why aren’t we talking about it?
—
Popdose – original content/pop music and culture/talk/monthly website – iTunes
One of my favourite blogs is popdose.com. A few months ago they started a podcast – three of the writers sit around and discuss music, life, and make terrible jokes.
This could be the best and worse of what podcasts have to offer. The three guys – Jason Hare, Dave Lifton, Jeff Giles – are pretty average pop music nerds. But that’s what makes it so great. It’s like talking to people who share your interests. I have never, ever, had a conversation about how much I think John Mayer or Daryl Hall are assholes. But I feel like I have with these guys.
It’s amateurish, but charming. Great stings. This is what homemade podcasting can be. I have big plans to ape this format.
—
Mark Kermode & Simon Mayo Film Reviews – radio/film/talk/weekly website – iTunes
This is the opposite of popdose. This is a proper BBC radio show – probably THE BBC film show. Simon Mayo is the best interviewer Britain has to offer. Mark Kermode is a fantastic film head too. Together they make quite a team.
The show goes out on a Friday afternoon. But I don’t have to worry about that. For the last year or so, it’s been my Saturday morning listening. I don’t even have to get up at the same time each week to catch it. It’s just there. I don’t miss a second of it.
Even if you’re a casual film fan, you must download this.
—
Coffee Break French – original content/language/educational/monthly website – iTunes
I’ve spent the last few years trying to get my French up to a conversational level. I take classes here, read books and of course, any excuse to visit France itslf is taken.
But part of it is Coffee Break French, the best of several French podcasts out there.
The advantage of the podcast is I can follow the lessons at my own pace. I can relisten at my leisure. There’s 80 lessons up there now, and I just make my way through them. It has helped me a lot. Just don’t ask me any questions in French.
—
Sound Opinions – public radio/music/talk/weekly website – iTunes
“The world’s only rock ‘n’ roll talk show.”
That’s how they bill themselves and I have to agree. Made out of Chicago, and hosted by esteemed music critics Jim DeRogatis and Greg Kot, Sound Opinions is the one must-have music show in the podcast world.
It skewers to the critics world – new indie, and old Mojo mag stuff – but they will dig out big names, modern heroes and underground treasures – often in the same show. Mixed with music news, desert island discs, live performances, new album reviews, classic album dissections – there is nothing else like it for music buffs.
—
There are dozens, if not hundreds more. This American Life. A Prairie Home Companion. Comic book ones. Doctor Who ones. The famous Ricky Gervais one. The almost as famous Stephen Fry one. The legendary BBC Desert Island Discs. And dozens of other music ones. Lots of great cooking ones.
Anything and everything under the sun.
So – let’s start a conversation about podcasts. What do you listen to? What do you like about them? What doesn’t work?
I’d love to know. Because I think podcasts are cool. And it’s time I started telling people.
30 for 30 – as I reach my fourth decade of being, I’m writing about some of the things that made the three that came before what they were. 30 – mostly trivial – things that have been a part of 30 – mostly trivial – years.
4. JD SALINGER
One of the very few photos of JD Salinger
I love the works of JD Salinger. He is best known for writing TheCatcher In the Rye, but also a series of short stories, many of which used the same characters. He died earlier this year, prompting me to revisit his work. It hasn’t lost any of it’s power on me.
—
I can’t remember her name.
But I can remember what happened. Clearly, like it was yesterday.
It was in the last years of high school, and I attended an all-boy’s school. But, thanks to lack of funding in the public school system, the music class for our school was merged with the music class from the local all-girl’s school.
It was cancelled entirely in my year (I mean, schools cancelling music. No wonder I’m such a left winger)…but the year below me was the first to take this new merged class. And Tristan, the bass player in our first band, was in that class. So thanks to rock ‘n’ roll, we got to visit the girl’s school.
O, that weird place known as the girl’s school! Such wonders. Such promise. Such mystery. We would exit those gates, watched by other jealous boys. And be greeted by suspicious looks of other girls, wondering what we were doing there.
Girls with guitars are so sexy, and there was one really excellent band from the girl’s school. They played late 90s radio rock – Hole, Blur etc. They’d play at, you know, school fetes and stuff. As would our band. But, we never really hung out with them. Thanks to Trist, there was another bunch of girls we hung out with. But those girls – they were the BAND.
Being in a band in a school in Nowhere, Sydney wasn’t actually very cool. And it didn’t help break down the gender boundary. Seeing a girl from the BAND at the train platform – they would be surrounded by their friends anyway. Even though we shared this bond of both playing in bands, I was not making it easier to go up to them and chat.
So one afternoon, I was visiting mum at her work, which was close to school. I got distracted and so it was about 5pm that I finally got to that train platform, to head home. The platform that is usually full of teenagers in uniforms mucking about – that exact thing that I can’t stand now.
Of course at 5pm, there was no one there. Regular life had set it, and those trains that are full of students had well and truly passed. In fact, the platform was pretty much abandoned, except for one girl.
The singer from the BAND.
It was the one and only time we ever spoke, alone. She was cute as a button and, of course, I had a massive crush on her. She was the singer and guitar player – just like me. I always figured we’d get along. In my mind, there was no one cooler than us two. Maybe if we got together, we’d be like the Damon Albarn and Justine Frischmann of our schools. That was the thought anyway.
She was reading a book when I got there – The Catcher In the Rye.
I’m not sure if we have ever been properly introduced but we knew who eachother were. And we talked; we talked about mutual friends. Some guitar stuff (like reaching those troublesome 14th and over frets). And we talked about Catcher In the Rye.
My clearest memory is saying how I thought it was such a boy’s book. It’s about a teenage boy, and all those silly boy-feelings of being a teenager. I asked her what she got out of it, and she said it was good to see how boys think.
By all this, our train had come and we reached my stop. I said goodbye, and saw eachother around, but we never really spoke again. I have no idea what happened to that girl. She was smart, confident, musical and cute. I still remember her, and I remember what she said about The Catcher In the Rye.
And I can’t even remember her name.
—
The Catcher In the Rye was given to us to read in high school. It takes the honour of being the only book I ever finished in high school. And English was my best subject.
So how did I get through school without finishing a book? It was easy. And once I figured out the trick, I never looked back.
You see, they don’t TEST you on the ending. They test you on the themes, the characters, etc. And any book worth studying, well the characters make themselves known at the start and the middle. As for what happens at the end – the teacher will always tell you about it in class. Or someone else will.
Take Great Expectations. I still don’t like that book, and I’ve never finished it. But I know about the rich vs. poor thing, how Ms Haversham’s wedding dress is a symbol, blah blah blah. Pull out a few quotes, that were probably discussed in class anyway, and you are off.
And Great Expectations sux in the exact way that The Catcher In the Rye doesn’t. It isn’t obvious. The author isn’t trying to say “look at how smart I am”.
I was pretty hooked from the beginning and finished the thing easily. So it was kind of crap that the mark for my Catcher essay was worse than my Great Expectations one.
Guess you can’t explain love.
—
One last story about Catcher from my teenage years. There was another girl – a girl I deliberately wont name. I knew her from around.
It was a different sort of crush. And she was a very different sort of girl. She was my age but she wasn’t in school. Problems in her family meant she was living with some guy. But she slept around, did drugs, and got through life a day at a time.
She loved music though. She loved Oasis. She loved Supergrass. And like all girls that age, she loved Ash. She dreamt of moving to London, as most music fans did in 1997. And I was that music guy in her life. I would make her tapes, lend her NMEs and Q mags, and we would listen to records and smoke. Sometimes, we would kiss, but it was mainly me trying, and her forgetting to not let me.
It occurred to me, even then, that her dreams were so unrealistic. I wanted to probably draw comic books or play in a band – and I had plans on how to do both. Impossible plans, but plans none the less. But her – she just sat there, in this guy’s apartment, occasionally having sex with him, smoking her years away.
I thought she was beautiful. I can still see her face. I can still see it as it was sad, and then I’d tell her something like I have the new Blur single in my bag, and her whole face would smile. Not just her mouth, but her face – eyes lit up, eyebrows stretched high. Maybe those smile muscles had been waiting for a reason to come to life for a while.
My copy of The Catcher In the Rye at this time was stolen from the local library. It was a nice old, almost pocket sized hardcover. Battered to bits. Light blue cover with only writing on the spine. It looked so cool I had to have it.
She had never read a proper fiction book, and I guess I was raving about it. I figured it was the perfect book for a beautiful, broken teenager. So that copy of Catcher I had, I lent it to her. I’d ask her if she’d read it every time we saw eachother, but she never did.
She disappeared sometimes for weeks on end, but she vanished altogether shortly after that. What mutual friends we had never saw her again either. I was too scared to go to her place on my own, and by the time I thought I should, months had passed. I figured she’d moved on to a new life, and to leave her too it.
She took that copy of The Catcher In the Rye with her, and I wonder where it is. Is it in a police lock up somewhere? Or a bin? Or did she finally meet some guy, one who took her to London?
Maybe she read it on the plane there, and loved every word.
—
So I haven’t even talked about Salinger yet – but girls is one of the many things I love about JD Salinger. He wrote some of the best female characters.
There is kind of a stock female character that Salinger writes about, and it’s the pollyanna. The bright, sunshiney, curious gal. And so many of his stories are about what happens when someone who hates life meets someone who loves it.
In ‘For Esme, In Love And Squalor’, it’s a young soldier who meets a girl, before he goes into war. He promises to write to her. Then, in the second part, he writes to her, after having been through the most terrible experience in his life. The contrast between the two shows us what war has done to this young man.
But there is also women as a destructive force. It’s most powerful in the “The Laughing Man”. The Laughing Man is a fictional some superhero type, and his story is being told to some kids by Chief, the head of this boy scouts kind of thing. The boys love the story, and they love Chief. Chief meets a woman and the stories get more exciting. Chief’s girl comes and meets the boys – but one day she isn’t there. Laughing Man’s adventures dwindle, and Chief…Chief is never the same again.
That’s just two of many stories he wrote. And these amazing stories and characters I still know by heart.
I wish they would finally publish all his short stories properly.
—
The reason they don’t is because Salinger – the man – was a recluse. Most biographies conjecture that he was also a racist, a health freak, a Mormon and god knows what else. We don’t know what’s true and what’s lies – but we do know that shortly after The Catcher In the Rye came out, his first and only novel, he moved his family out of New York and was barely seen or heard from again.
He did make himself known in the control over his work. He had strict rules for everything – from book jackets to people wanting write books about him. A lot of the work he had done for journals like New Yorker, have never been collected.
I found all this out and did some hunting around. I discovered the wonderful Bananafish website. And all those unreleased or under-published works were all online anyway. I printed out several hundred pages on A4 and started to make my way through this hidden stuff. I got a nice folder for it and I still have these print outs.
It’s a bit like hearing a band’s demos actually.
He’s probably the most famous recluse in the world – up to his death earlier this year. There is something about recluses that fascinates me, and adds to my Salinger fandom. There are almost no photos of him. In this world of over information, a mystery is so seductive.
But now that he’s dead, I figure the flood will come. All the stuff that was around but trapped from before Catcher, to almost 50 years of writing since. I’m excited but scared at the same time. I hope it’s good.
—
So what does The Catcher In the Rye mean to me?
If I ever fell in love with language, it was here. Holden’s voice was so engaging – “all that David Copperfield crap”, “phonies”, “swear to god” etc. It wasn’t a story being told AT you. It was a kid telling you his story, and sounding like he doesn’t want to be there at all.
It’s the doom and gloom too. Holden feels trapped. He sees the worse in everything, but people around him are actually awful. The teacher who tells him he has to conform. The prostitutes, the phoney jazz musician, and people clapping at all the wrong times.
It helped define how I saw the world. How I treated people. Made me realise that adults can be idiots and to look out for that. And if people can be idiots, then maybe I’m not wrong about the world, and screw everyone else. I’ll be me then, not them.
But the most important lesson for me is the one that Mr Antolini tells Holden. To write things down. Because someday someone might find it, and it might help them. Part of the reason this bit of writing exists is because of that advice.
—
Although my fandom has died down, it still simmers lightly all the time. I bought yet another copy of Nine Stories when in France (because “For Esme” is set in France). I am always delighted to meet someone named Zooey because it’s likely from Franny And Zooey. My first stop in New York was Central Park – I wanted to see where the ducks go.
I made Karen see Finding Forrester, a kind of terrible film but was a homage to Salinger. She hated it. (Next time, on her choice, we saw Jurassic Park 3). Karen’s favourite Old 97’s song was Roller-Skate Skinny – a term that comes from Catcher.
I finally found a nice edition – a hardcover reprint with a replica of the original dust jacket – a few years back. When I saw it, I knew it was the way I wanted to own that book. Problem solved.
I’m still excited to meet people who love his work. And I still meet people who I think could be helped by reading Catcher. I haven’t read it in years but maybe it’s time again.
If you’ve never read one of those ‘classic’ novels, this is the place to start. If you have and don’t know anything else, I recommend Nine Stories. You’ll love it. I swear to god.
30 for 30 – as I reach my fourth decade of being, I’m writing about some of the things that made the three that came before what they were. 30 – mostly trivial – things that have been a part of 30 – mostly trivial – years.
3. CHESS
The men at the giant chess board in Sydney's Hyde Park
I play chess.
—
I learnt chess in year 6, from my teacher Mr Creek. He was very good, and could play 6 of us kids at the same time. Sure we were amateurs, but that’s still pretty cool.
After that, I found some books from the library and read further. I picked up some strategies and learnt to read notation. For a while, I was hooked. Yes, I was that Chinese kid who played chess at lunch times. I blame school for encouraging this. And Nirvana were still a year away from kicking everyone’s ass.
—
I don’t really play anymore – only the occasional game with a friend. In my early 20s I flirted with online chess. Macs come with chess so sometimes I play chess as I’m watching some movie that I’m forcing myself to sit through.
I’m also nowhere near as good as I used to be. It’s that thinking-5-steps-ahead thing. It’s hard to think about one thing over and over in this era of information overload.
You see, here’s the thing I like about chess.
1) There are rules. Pieces can only move a certain way. There is a finite number of possibilities of what the next move can be. There may be many possibilities, but they are finite.
2) Next, each move leads to MORE possibilities.
3) For me, good chess is about limiting your opponents possibilities. Create places they can’t move. Pin pieces down. My moves should limit your moves.
So it’s almost like a video game. This wave of possibilities coming at you, and getting rid of them, almost like some first person shooter. That’s how I visualise it anyway.
Maybe that’s why I find chess so much more exciting than most people. It’s like a shoot-em-up video game in my mind.
—
I have a style. I have certain moves and a certain way I like to play.
A find this akin to playing guitar. I can hear some guitar players and think – hey, they play like me. Not that I watch many chess games, but I have a style and I could spot another player’s style as being different to mine.
For example – I will always go for a Queen’s sacrifice. I will take your Queen if it means losing my Queen. Because, I hate the Queen. Too many possibilities – it’s too powerful.
The rest you will find out when you play me.
—
I love the big chess set in Sydney’s Hyde Park. If you’ve never been, it’s a big public chess board near the fountain in the north end of the park. The pieces are maybe a metre high, and it’s always old men challenging eachother. (There are smaller chess boards nearby)
It’s so close to everything, and you could just sit there with some takeaway after a day of wandering around town. I’ve been to other public chess places – Union Square in NY is one of the more famous. Another cool one in Amsterdam near the start of Vondelpark. I like the vibe of these places. There is something old fashioned about it.
(Who goes to Amsterdam and finds the chess? I do. Loser.)
Nigel used to work for the city council, and was responsible for bringing the giant pieces to the Sydney chessboard every morning, and picking them up at 4:30 in the afternoon. I imagine this dude, with a ute full of chess pieces, driving around the busiest part of Sydney. What happens when the pieces get damaged or stolen? I need ask Nigel that one day.
I wonder if these places are dying out. You don’t see many young people in these places. Mostly old men. And, quite cool, mostly strangers. All they have in common in the game.
Like in most places I guess, Sydney had a bunch of regulars. And they were hilarious. There is one guy – a tall, Dutch looking guy – who was obviously the Cartman of the group. The Regulars would heckle him, and laugh at his bad moves. In a joking way – it was friendly heckling. But taking the piss out of your mates in public – that will never die out.
—
I tend to think of chess as a thing done in cold countries. I guess most of them, back when I was learning, were Russian with names like Karpov and Kasparov. I guess that’s why Bobby Fischer caused such a storm, being American and becoming world champion.
I played in a band that even had a song about Bobby Fischer. It was one of the most successful songs we had. I read a book about him once – he was a crazy bitter racist.
But chess is everywhere, right? Just in the last couple of years, I’ve seen it played in Lost, West Wing, Frasier, Flashforward etc. There’s Seventh Seal – where the Knight plays chess with Death. And then Bill and Ted ripped it off. There’s that scene in Charlie Wilson’s War where the weapon’s expert plays chess against several people. Or History of the World Part 1, where the King uses real people.
There are many famous chess players as well. Stanley Kubrick. Woody Allen. Bob Dylan. Schwarzenegger. It’s not just dorky young kids with thick glasses. Madonna does it too.
It’s everywhere. Catcher In the Rye. Harry Potter. I see one of those Twilight books has a chess piece on the cover. I know a lot of people who don’t play chess. I wonder why they never learnt? It’s fun – more fun than I’m making it out to be.
I don’t have any desire to see the musical Chess though. That looks shit.
—
The large Dymocks book store on George St has a basement full of games. Amongst them were chess boards. Some really nice, really expensive ones. I’ve always wanted to buy a proper one. I would walk past them all the time, see the price, then move on!
I have a little magnetic travel chess set. It does the job. Also, most computers come with chess these days, and I’ve even bought a decent chess game for my phone.
I’d like to get a proper one though. One day. And keep it out, all set up. Always in the middle of a game with someone from the other side of the world. Like I’m some sort of James Bond villain.
I just need someone to play with. I guess it’s something to bank when I’m old. I have many good friends who play. Maybe I’ll be writing about chess again when I’m 60.
30 for 30 – as I reach my fourth decade of being, I’m writing about some of the things that made the three that came before what they were. 30 – mostly trivial – things that have been a part of 30 – mostly trivial – years.
2. COMICS
The fold out cover to X-Men #1 - the highest selling comic book of all time
I went through two intense period of buying comics. One was from ages 10 til 17. The second was around age 25, just before I left Australia, up til now.
Fun fact: a week after I quit collecting comics the first time I started going out wth my first girlfriend.
That first period was mainly about superheroes. (Did you know that ‘superhero’ is actually a trademark co-owned by Marvel and DC? Such a joke – no wonder those two companies are still running the comic book industry.)
The second period has been more mixed. Some alternative stuff, lots of older stuff, still the occasional superhero thing. But the big defining theme of my second tenure in comics is the trade paperback.
—
I have no idea what my first comic was. It would have been borrowed off a friend at school. But comics taught me, at barely 10 years old, that I wanted to OWN something rather than borrow it. If I read a comic I liked, I went out and bought it. It’s something I’ve carried over into music, books, DVDs and more.
This was around 1991, so I was there to buy X-Men #1. At over 8 million copies, it is still the highest selling comic book of all time. Along with all the X-Men and Spiderman books, I had pretty much all the big guns – Daredevil, Fanstastic Four,Batman, Superman, the Flash, etc.
My teachers hated comics. And I was an argumentative little shit, and would ask why. Comics get a bad wrap, but even that highly commercial, glossy, 90s era of comics brought some real goods. Acclaimed books like Marvels, Kingdom Come etc are rightly considered in great BOOK lists.
(I was, of course, too young to have been there for the 80s revolution that has truly broken through to the mainstream. Watchmen. V for Vendetta. The Batman from the current movies is very much Frank Miller’s dark take on Batman)
I gave up around 17. It was a slow petering out rather than a big decision. I was buying up all sorts of music. I was seeing movies more. Hanging out after school with friends in the city. Meeting girls. All age gigs. And of course, end of high school studies.
And the comics got really shit anyway. Overblown, crass and saturated with holographic covers, trading cards, all sorts of stupid shit. It was all big events where you had to buy 30 comics a month just to keep up with the story…or maybe I just grew out of it.
The comic book industry as whole crashed in the mid 90s anyway. I was part of the reason. I had enough, and I left it to rot.
I went on and fell in love with Bob Dylan
—
I learnt a lot from those 90’s superhero comics. A hell of a lot. And I will go to my grave defending comics.
First and foremost, I learnt how to read. I make absolutely zero bones about this. English is my second language and I was reading English for maybe five years up until comics, and still spoke broken-ish English with a strong accent.
So every day, several times a day, I would read comics. And why it was different from reading books was because my English was not good enough to read Friedrich Nietzsche, but every issue of the 1991 mini series the Infinity Gauntlet started with a Nietzsche quote.
So I’m ten years old and I’m reading amazing stuff like “Battle not with monsters, lest ye become a monster, and if you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.”
And lets face it, I was not really going to come across this stuff in school.
“And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?”
That was used in the Incredible Hulk #425. Bet you didn’t know that shit at age 12. I did!
It wasn’t just random literary quotes. Words like ‘intergalatic’, ‘radioactive’ etc. Not only were they hard – they fired my imagination. I learnt words like ‘hybrid’ from comics.
Just run your eye through your average list of characters to find so much more. Morlocks. Nova. Doomsday. Even Daredevil. I didn’t know what a daredevil was when I was ten. I looked it up.
The point I’m trying to make is I was buried in thoughts, words and ideas.
—
There was great sophistication in the writing too. Great science fiction ideas. The Hulk meeting an evil future version of himself. The wonderful Marvels series, which we are told classic stories from the point of view of an average person on the street. My mind exploded every week from all the cliffhangers, plot twists and mysteries.
As I got older, I cared less about the big graphics and more about the stories. It led me into my next phase of comics. More ‘adult’, thoughtful, character driven books like Starman, Bone, Sandman Mystery Theatre, Zot!, Astro City and more. I’d also read books ABOUT comics like Scott McCloud’s Understanding Comics. It’s this era that I really, really loved comics. This stuff is so great, I can’t even describe them to you.
A lot of that stuff was independently published. Or if it was published by Marvel or DC, it was on an imprint. (The most famous work of this era, of this style, is probably Neil Gaiman’s Sandman)
I learnt a million things from these comics. I mean – Oscar Wilde was a recurring character in Starman! It’s the same neat trick that stuff like Doctor Who pulls off – it’s entertaining and educational. What a great head-fake.
—
I would buy comics from everywhere. A lot of those places depress me now.
Comic Kingdom on Liverpool Street. God that place just depresses the hell out of me. It still looks like the 80s, and I’m pretty sure the staff is still the same people. They just never got the memo that the 90s and 00s happened. They were too busy reading old issues of the Phantom.
Comic Kingdom’s main competitor is Kings Comics on Pitt Street. The staff are young and hip. There are plenty of girls on both sides of the counter. They have lots of movie merchandise, toys, posters and stuff. The store looks great too.
The thing that depresses me about Kings Comics is the same thing that depresses me about indie record shops. Every time I’m in there and I want something and they don’t have it, it just destroys them. And it’s so much more expensive than Amazon.
Not that Amazon is any good. They never have anything in stock. They don’t sell single issues. There is a massive gap in the internet for a comic book online shop – deals with the distributors directly, digital comics, single issues, rarities and old collectables, etc.
I wonder how the iPad and such devices are going to affect comics. I like physical artifacts – but I love the promise of a good story and with great artwork a lot more. It will b like music I guess – some digital, some physical.
—
Funny how people talk of in-demand entertainment, I think of comics. This is what I had for years. I would buy a stack of them. But once I had them I could read them any time, at my own pace, and re-read them at my leisure. I didn’t wait for a TV show or make sure I’m home at the perfect time. Or wait for a repeat. I’ve been doing in-demand for 20 years.
I still probably have 10K+ comics at my parents house. They are mostly protected in bags, and they are in nice boxes. Although they haven’t been taken care off and I lug them everywhere I moved when in Sydney.
—
These days I buy Trade Paperbacks. If you don’t know the term, it’s basically a bunch of comics grouped altogether in a book. Most bigger bookstores carry them now.
I don’t know how I got back into it – but I blame the internet. It was just so easy to come across news. And slowly, I peeked back to see what my old friends in tights were up to. I never went back to X-men, but I’m amazed to see that X-Men #1 is now up to 236. But my tastes have changed, and I walk right past the kiddie stuff. Although, I don’t look down on it one bit. I wonder who all these new superheroes are…
So I’ve re-bought a few of those comics I loved as trade paperbacks (or even some fancy hardcover versions). I will probably get rid of a lot of them when I get home. There are lots of valuable ones in there. It might take some time to sort it all out.
I read all the comic book news because some of the websites are really good (Comic Book Resources and Newsarama in particular). I think the music industry could learn a hell of a lot from how the comic book business works. A lot of what I read and see on those sites informs a lot of the ideas I bring to my own work.
The best example of that is this Saturday. Free Comic Book Day was a daring initiative to bring both new and lapsed readers into comic shops, with exclusive products on the day, and creators doing instore events and working behind the counter. It is basically the model for Record Store Day. So if you’re around on Saturday, go visit your local comic shop. Cool things will be going on and pick up a free comic while you’re there. There will be something for everyone.
—
Finally, for me now, I still buy comics. I get the eventual trade paperbacks, collecting six months or so worth of stories. So I dip in and out – I don’t hang out at my comic shop several times a week anymore. I am going to back and reading old stuff, and trying to keep on top of all the great new work that is being created every month, if not every day.
30 for 30 – as I reach my fourth decade of being, I’m writing about some of the things that made the three that came before what they were. 30 – mostly trivial – things that have been a part of 30 – mostly trivial – years.
1. SMOKING
I had my first cigarette in school, like most people do. But it wasn’t until I was around 20 that I really, really took to it.
Now, I know there’s no way to justify smoking. There just isn’t. It’s utterly indefensible. I don’t really support people taking up smoking – although if you are a smoker already, then chances are I love having a cigarette with you. The best way to avoid it is t0 never start.
Tara once told me, quite matter-of-factly, that she just went for that whole ‘Just Say No’ campaign of the 80s.
So, with that said, none of the following justifies smoking. I’m going to say stuff like how much “I like Zippo lighters”, for instance. And an adoration for Zippo lighters in no way justifies the slow destruction of my body.
—
These days I am down to a pack every 3 or 4 days. A couple during work and a couple at night. Packs in London are only 20s, whereas in Sydney for many years I was half a (25) pack a day.
The real numbers come up when drinking. I can probably go through 2 cigarettes a pint, and I’m consciously pacing myself. If I’m drinking at a beer garden and sure no one will notice, I will chain smoke when I drink.
—
Smoking suits my restlessness. As Jo said to me once, it’s really unfair how she, as a non smoker, doesn’t get to just go out of a building and have a few minutes to herself, several times a day.
I especially loved this when I was seeing gigs and going to pubs and clubs. 2am, sober, surrounded by drunken hipsters and loud music – the excuse to get out of there for a few minutes is heaven. I don’t know how people stand being in those places for hours upon hours. Grabbing your drink, a fellow smoker, and getting a break from all that – it’s brilliant.
Constantly heading out for a cigarette – a few times a day for ten years – I wonder how it’s affected me. Has it turned me further into an introvert? In any given situation, I can get up, go, and just be in my own thoughts almost straight away. Just stop, and think.
The other thing is I’ve perfected is the five minute conversation. Heading out for a cigarette is an open invitation. Basically, anyone in your little party is allowed to join you. And you have five minutes to find that common ground, roll around in it, then head back inside. It doesn’t matter if you’re a friend of a friend of a friend, etc who just turned up for a little bit.
I have gotten to know a lot of people this way. Not many friends I know are smokers – but most of my best friends are. We just spend more quality time together. I think of my friend Piero, who I worked with for a few months. But our cigarette breaks were where I really got to know him. People I’ve worked closer with for 4 times that length – I know nothing about them.
—
My Dad smokes. And I don’t remember anyone else in my family smoking, growing up. I think my brother must have when we were younger. Mum hated the things and still does. Even aunties and uncles were pretty much non-smokers.
Not that Dad ever gave me a cigarette. It did his health no good in the end. He shouldn’t be smoking, but it’s hard. He’s old, and he’s been doing it all his life. Think about how easy it would be for YOU to give up something you’ve been doing several times a day for decades on end.
Don’t give me that “It’s killing you” bullshit. If I said to you that you had to give up ice cream, or chocolate, or coffee, etc. After you’ve had it for DECADES. It’s not easy. And it’s not like it’s a sudden, allergic reaction. One bit of ice cream is not going to kill you. But it will make you sicker, as your whole body is getting sicker anyway. So get off that high horse.
But I bring that up because that is justification for my Dad. I still have the odd cigarette after dinner with Dad in our backyard when I’m home. It’s our time together. We both wait all day for that moment. Who wants to live longer if I can’t have those moments.
—
I can’t roll cigarettes. If I could, I think I would have saved thousands of dollars over the years. In a way, it’s the coolest way to smoke. And so often, I feel like a few puffs but not a whole cigarette. Rollies would be the way.
Learning now kind of feels like giving in. Learning a new skill to help improve my smoking, and to save me money in doing it, seems like a big commitment. And every smoker is trying to cut down or quit. That just seems a step in the wrong direction.
Also, learning seems embarrassing. I know in theory how to do it, I just need to buy the filters and the tobacco and practise. Just sit around one weekend and smoke and practise.
But buying tobacco and filters at the same time, makes me feel like I’m a kid smoking for the first time. You know when you skipped school and you could smoke, but of course you didn’t even own a lighter? And you would buy smokes AND a lighter and it would give you away? I’m turning 30 and I still feel that way. I feel like if I buy filters and tobacco at the same time, the guy behind the counter will declare me an amateur and take away my smoking rights.
—
My brand is Marlboro Lights. On the odd chance there isn’t Marlboro Lights I would smoke Camels. This has happened maybe 4 times in the last decade. In France I smoke Gauloises because I am a try-hard Frenchie and I would do anything to pretend I lived there.
Why Marlboro lights? Mainly because the musicians that I liked who smoked, they smoked Marlboro lights. Before you declare me superficial, this is the reason why music sponsorships are a multi million dollar industry. Also, I’m not alone in this. Marlboro Lights are what the Strokes smoke. I know nothing else about the Strokes. But In know THAT. Because someone told me. Also, I know what my friends smoke. It’s just something I notice.
I try to get soft packs if I can but they are harder to find in London. There is a very specific way of ripping part of the foil at the top (on just one side of the sticker on the top face) so they dispense easily but the pack still keeps it’s shape. The advantage of the soft pack is they don’t destroy every pair of jeans you own with sharp cardboard corners. They also look a million times cooler.
—
My first lighter was a proper sized Bic lighter. I still have it, I know where it is. I prefer the smaller Bic lighters, the ones that are like 5cm tall and run out in barely a week. I went through so many of these. They are also light and small and slip easily into a soft pack once you’re had three or four.
In London, I use clipper lighters. This is because one of my first jobs in London, the company I worked for created boxes of promotional lighters. Then they worked out they couldn’t send lighters with flammable liquid in the mail. So I took a few boxes. 4 years later I still use them.
I have been given some great smoking presents. My favourites are the Zippo with the Fender logo on it (Casey), a cool 1930s looking robot ashtray (Marianne) and a flip top ball thing that was also an ashtray, that I adore (Johanna).
—
When am I going to quit? I really don’t know. Honestly, I probably never will completely.
There’s that age old image of the old man having a cigar after dinner. Maybe with a bit of whiskey. Knowing my friends, that cigar will be a joint. A small indulgence. And smoking will be mine. If I ever do quit for a while, and I start again, then that’s just the way it is. I don’t really take the idea of quitting seriously.
From the very first time I ever heard Hey Jealousy on the airwaves, I loved this song. It was by a band called the Gin Blossoms – on the surface, one of dozens of alterna-lite bands that broke through thanks to grunge. But their story, and their songs, were much more than that.
The biggest part of the story revolves around the death of guitarist/songwriter Doug Hopkins. Hopkins wrote Hey Jealousy and Follow You Down – two stone cold pop rock classics, and both huge worldwide hits. Hopkins had formed the band, wrote some of their best songs, developed their jangly guitar sound – but had constant problems with drinking. As a teenager who had one ear stuck on the radio in suburban nowhere Sydney, I knew none of this at the time.
Hopkins‘ drinking and behavior had taken it’s toll on the others, and he was fired from the band he had formed just before the release of New Miserable Experience, the Gin Blossoms‘ proper debut album. The album that would spawn those two big hits and sell 2 million copies. Hopkins would watch from afar as his former friends rose to fame on the back of his songs. He could not beat his chronic depression, or the drinking.
New Miserable Experience came out in August ’92.
In December ’93, Doug Hopkins took his own life.
A fantastic article about Hopkins, written by a friend of his, can be found here – http://www.metrotimes.com/editorial/story.asp?id=12123. It’s a wonderful, wonderful article. We meet some lost suburban kids, one who could write songs, who loved girls but was awkward. Who drank too much, and knew it, but had nothing else to do to help the time pass. About horrible phone calls bearing bad news, and beautiful songs that you can’t believe were written by mortals. A must read.
Hopkins left us with barely a dozen songs, and only a handful are on that debut Gin Blossoms record. But he definitely had something. God knows the world of blogs don’t need anymore proclamations of genius – but he had all the elements. He had a natural sense of pop hooks – growing up on REM, Tom Petty and Big Star. But his lyrics were really special – one reviewer at the time remarked ‘misery never sounded so good’. It’s one thing to be a drunken suburban fuck up who fell in love too easily. It’s another to express that feeling so clearly in song.
The Gin Blossoms story is not just the Doug Hopkins story. As great as the songs were, the golden ticket for the Gin Blossoms was Robin Wilson‘s voice. That clear, high, longing voice – sitting above it all. Restraint yet passionate, young yet wise, sad yet hopeful. Jesse Venezuela and Scott Johnson (Hopkins‘ replacement) captured the bright, Byrds-y guitar playing right where Hopkin‘s left it, and all the time providing fantastic guitar solos and riffs that served the songs but were memorable in their own right.
New Miserable Experience is the masterwork -where it all came together. That amazing sound that still sounds completely modern was mixed in with hopeless-romantic Hopkin‘s great songs, then topped Wilson‘s great voice. The record captured a generation of disillusioned kids – of which I am one. Almost everyone I know who loved music during this time loves Hey Jealousy. Present tense – they still love it to this day.
Interestingly, one of the very best lines on that track is
You can trust me not to think
And not to sleep around
If you don’t expect too much from me
You might not be let down
Originally, the ‘think’ was ‘drink’.
Universal Music had the foresight to reissue New Miserable Experience in their Deluxe Edition range. Which means it joins hallowed company like Marvin Gaye‘s What’s Going On, Sonic Youth‘s Daydream Nation, the Velvet Underground & Nico and dozens of other acclaimed records.
The band continued on – but they were a wounded beast. But there were highlights as high as Hey Jealousy to come. Their biggest hit ended up being Til I Hear It From You, the lead track off the movie Empire Records. It was co-written by the legendary Marshall Crenshaw. And it was all still there – the melancholy, the voices, the jangle.
Check out Robin Wilson‘s much classier stubble and short hair look. The band looked a million bucks, and a long way from flannelette.
Their second album, Congratulations….I’m Sorry, would be their last. The lead single was Follow You Down – another great song. It sold half a million – but the band was in tatters. They all went their separate ways – new bands mostly. None recaptured the magic – or public imaginations – that the Gin Blossoms had. (The band did reunite for a new record in 2007. I’m still yet to hear it)
My brother had New Miserable Experience. I remembered thinking how mysterious the record looked, with all the squiggy artwork and stretched perspective photos. But God, did I love Hey Jealousy. I was too young to drink, to drive, to fuck – but the song just got me. I loved the hit songs, and it was all I knew until years later, in my 20s, earning money, and I finally bought the album for myself.
Of course, I caught up with the song. And all the others – that loser feeling, that desperation for that beautiful girl. Late nights, rock ‘n’ roll, jealousy, alcohol, cars and girls, girls, girls. It was all there in Hey Jealousy, and all the other songs too. As I approach 30, I still come back to this band, those songs, those records, those feelings.
In the end though, it all just makes me think of how fragile these things we call ‘bands’ can be. How magical, and how fleeting. How young, emotional boys fall in love with girls and music, and how they give up their lives – literally or figuratively – so the world can have a great song.
We’ve been seeing quite a few great sites of late, and it’s inspired us to write again, if only for Wednesday Web.
Recordjunkie.com is a simple idea. It lists, and breaksdown the list, of great record shops around the world. It’s seems this is more important now than ever. In the past, great record stores depended on an international network and was tied to mail order and later online purchases. Great stores like Amoeba in LA or Rough Trade in London were known around the world.
Not saying that Recordjunkie will start a revolution. But it’s a solid idea and should be supported. You can read people’s store reviews as well.
It’s still in Beta, so hopefully more functionality will go with it. All we know is that every holiday we take from now on, we will be checking in with this site first.
If you’ve never watched Doctor Who before, this Easter is the time to start. And not because of the event of a new actor playing the Doctor, but for the return of Steven Moffat – my favourite TV writer of 21 years – to our screens.
Steven Moffat and the best storytelling plot device there is
I myself only started watching Doctor Who for one reason, and that was Moffat (he wrote at least one episode a season since the show was revived in 2005).
It all started with Press Gang in 1989. Press Gang was Moffat‘s first ever writing job. The producer thought the pilot was the best ever first script she had ever read. It was a teen drama/comedy about a bunch of high-schoolers who ran a student newspaper. It also had the neat trick that the Office repeated years later that had a great love story boiling away in the background.
I could go on and on about Press Gang, and the slew of awards it won. But there was one really important point about Press Gang that informs all of Moffat‘s work ever since – it was SMART. Playing around with flashbacks, red herrings and plot twists, it confounded my expectations and got my 9 year old mind whirling – and it’s never stopped.
I bought the DVDs for Press Gang in my twenties, the only kids show I’ve ever bought on DVD. It’s amazing how much of it has stuck in my mind. Long joke pieces, amazing moments – and the characters. My boyhood crush on Lynda Day has led to a life long troubles with smart, bossy, feisty women.
At the time, I didn’t know the man behind the show was Steven Moffat. Turns out he wrote every single word of every single episode.
Moffat fell off my radar until the comedy Coupling (there were a couple of unsuccessful shows that were never shown in Australia). Relationships between men and women, sexual politics and failed encounters – expertly dissected with wit and typically mind bending plot twists (odd for a sit com yet never feels out of place).
It was my perfect show for those crazy early 20s. Again, every episode was written by Moffat. And it was around this time I made the connection between the two shows.
He’s always alluded to his love of Doctor Who and science fiction in his work, but has mainly worked in comedies and dramas set in our time, with largely ordinary people. He did write a Doctor Who sketch for Comic Relief one year, but he became the real thing when he wrote one of the most acclaimed episodes of the new series’ first year – The Empty Child. Then there’s Blink – largely regarded the single greatest episode ever – and there’s about 400 of them.
And now he’s taken over Doctor Who completely, and I’m so excited for him. It’s seeing the dreams come true for someone I’ve known for decades. And I’m so excited to see what he brings. The man never treads water. He’s always trying something new – even his failures fail on ideas, it never drifts into lazy writing.
I’ve learnt a lot from Moffat over the years. Being smart is the big one. Looking at things from every angle. And girls. So much about girls. His deep, deep obsession with sex, love and romance should readdress Russell T Davies‘s campness (not that there’s anything wrong with that).
Moffat wrote other great shows (and has another one, a 21st century take on Sherlock Holmes, out this year, and the screenplay for Spielberg/Jackson’s Tintin movie). Everything is worth exploring, if you’re the TV exploring type.
If not, and you have one hour to spare, I suggest next weekend’s Doctor Who. A great writer will be let loose on prime time. With big crazy ideas for a big audience. It’s going to be something you’ll remember for at least 21 years.
My favourite comic book in the world is Zot! (the exclamation is part of the title). I came across this image in an article and decided to write about it…
Zot and Jenny - everything summed up in one panel
It was originally printed in the late 80s, but I discovered it in the 90s, after I had become obsessed by comic books. I started as most young boys did on super-hero stuff, and slowly graduated to the indie world, black and whites and more mature stuff.
At he heart of Zot! is our man Zot, the mash-up of so many 40s and 50s sci-fi, square-jawed future heroes, and Jenny, our everyday high school girl. Zot is a superhero, and comes from a world of flying cars, robots, talking monkeys and everything that was exciting and optimistic about early sci-fi. Jenny’s life is coloured by real world issues of sex, homosexuality, violence and teenage malaise.
(If it sounds a bit like Doctor Who, well, that’s what drew me to Doctor Who in the first place)
The 80s was a time when comics were growing up. More people are discovering the era that spawned Watchmen and Dark Knight Returns, and Zot! is also a key text. Whereas the former two upped the violence and grittiness (sometimes ironically described as ‘realness’), Zot! presented the optimistic take on life’s hard issues.
Zot has a crazy uncle (a bit like Back to the Future‘s Professor) who creates a portal to ‘our’ world. Here he meets Jenny, and throw her eyes we see Zot’s world – this awesome, lost future we once dreamed of – and we see our world through Zot’s eyes.
What happened to us? Why did we lose that dream?
It’s central to the story. Jenny’s world seems unexciting, and full of problems. Broken families, hateful people – who doesn’t want to escape as a teenager? Zot’s world is a potent metaphor for escapist fiction itself. I think creator Scott McCloud had this in mind. We can live our dreams in these stories. And kids being allowed to read about superheroes is important.
The comics were released in two acts, and it’s the second, 16 issue run that is the groundbreaking stuff – and fully collected in a beautiful paperback edition. At one point, Zot is stuck in ‘our’ world, and what you basically have is a high school teen drama where one guy is a 50s superhero guy with jetboots.
There wasn’t many issues, and every one of them is great. But there are a few that really broke the mold.
One issue deals with homosexuality and a character’s (Terry’s) coming out. We are in her mind for an issue, and at one point, reduced to tears, another character asks the question we all want to ask – “What have they done to you?”. It won many awards.
Another deals with teen sex, and it’s pretty much Zot and Jenny talking about sex for one whole issue. In a super-hero comic! No super villians. No plot twists. Just two worlds colliding in words, on paper. It also won many awards.
The panel above, the inspiration for this rant, ended up on the cover of the collected edition. Rightly so, because it’s come to sum up the whole series. These two worlds, and these two people, meeting in a kiss.
It’s not the panel above, but my favourite moment in the whole series comes in the very last issue. Jenny’s had enough and has packed all her bags to run away into Zot’s world forever. And Zot refuses to leave her world. The stand off, what they say, and what eventually happens – it’s a perfect ending.
When I wonder if liking sci fi and fiction in general is a waste of time, I think of this scene.
When I wonder if anything about life is exciting at all, I think of this scene.
But of course, what really inspires me about Zot!, to this day, is the optimism. We are going to be alright, right? People are inherently good. Inventions are awesome. Life is hard but we survive. It was something great to learn as a kid, and something I still revisit.
Scott McCloud went on to write Understanding Comics, another revered text in some circles, and it’s his last work of fiction of note. He is currently working on another, and I can’t wait. I’ve loved all his work, but that’s a story for another time.
We’ve been seeing quite a few great sites of late, and it’s inspired us to write again, if only for Wednesday Web.
