#anyway you should all listen to Thin Places Radio podcast

[graveyardrabbit]

I’m your host, and it is the middle of the night. But don’t worry. You’re not alone.

Thin Places Radio aesthetic

[thinplacesradio]

a warm tinted room in a house at night, stairs on the left and a comfortable chair on the right. there are portraits on the walls whose faces you cannot see. light spills across the floor from an open door in the center. the image is distorted by VCR static. white text reads:

[020] THE SHADOW. A CALLER TALKS TO DEATH. THE HOST COUCH SURFS.

listen here, or anywhere you find your podcasts. transcript under the cut:

[static, radio tuning]

[Traveling Sales Rep: Don’t touch that dial! We’ll be right back, after these short messages.] [static, radio tuning]

[click]

Hello and welcome to Thin Places Radio. I’m your host,

and it is the middle of the night. But don’t worry. You’re not alone.

[Thin Places theme] 

I’m coming to you dusty from my studio, which is what I like to call the darkest corner of your living room. [clock ticking] [chimes] Yeah, that one. There’s a penny down here, and two bobby pins, and a chocolate chip that I did not eat. I was lying down on your couch earlier. It’s actually pretty comfortable, even though the one cushion is lumpier than the other.

You like the way that the light falls through the window when the sun starts setting, whenever you happen to take that small moment to notice it. Right now, though, it’s dark outside. [crickets join the clock] I don’t know where you are. I don’t think you can see me, and I can’t see you, either. We’ve only just missed each other. But thanks for letting me crash here, anyway.  

So… what is Thin Places Radio? Well, you can call in about anything strange that you’ve got going on in your life - feelings, omens, premonitions, hauntings.

Are you feeling particularly wistful? 

Are you thinking about making friends with the most famous supernatural entity around? 

Are you two places at once, or one place, twice? 

When the veil between worlds is thin, we get closer than ever to the strange and the unexplained - but also to each other. Call in, get it off your chest. Lines are open.

[click] [voicemail:]

Hi there, Thin Places. My name’s Katrina. I’m… being followed by. Death. Um… it’s been following me for a while. I noticed it whenever I was a child, actually. A shadow that was always behind me. It seemed scary, but I could tell that it was… not actually there to harm me. As I got older, the shadow seems to have, um - gotten closer. I see it around the people that I love, my friends and my family. I know when it’s coming. I know where it’s going. And… I know when it’ll be here for me. I don’t know what to do. I mean, we’ve talked, a little bit. Death is at least polite enough to say hello, from time to time. It doesn’t just, y’know, follow me silently. But… what do I do about that? Should we… I don’t know, maybe grab a drink? How do I handle this? I’d love to know. Thanks, Thin Places. 

[click] 

Hi, caller, thanks for taking the time. You’ve been given a gift. Well, you’ve been given something. Not all gifts are welcome. Sometimes you get a candle in a scent that turns your stomach. Sometimes Death makes itself available to you. You can see the thing that so many of the rest of us can’t. [searching music] But it’s always there. It is always following. What is there to do, when faced with the inevitable, but buy it a coffee, or maybe something stronger? 

I don’t know how you feel about the knowledge that you have. Do you find it a burden, or a relief, or some sweet and bitter mixture of both? To not have to be looking over your shoulder? To always have to be? 

Death was polite enough to introduce itself, and that means that it isn’t a stranger. Not that it sounds like it was to you, anyway. You have lost people. You’ve felt it pass close to you. But now it’s saying hello, and I know there’s a reason for this.

I don’t know how Death feels about what Death does, every day, every minute. Grief after grief after grief. It’s never satisfied. But maybe it’s also lonely. Maybe it needs to speak to you as much as you need to speak to it. So… speak to it. Ask it as many questions as you can, even if it can’t answer. Sometimes it’s more about the asking than it is about the answer. And sometimes… there isn’t an answer. 

[click]

Something strange, listeners: numerology! Arithmancy. Mathi-magic. We’ve always been so desperate to know what’s coming for us, to wrestle it into a shape we understand.

Well, I don’t know s**t about numerology, but let’s give it a try.

7 plus 1 plus 7 makes fifteen. Plus 3 and 8 and 2, 8 and 0 and 9 and 3. It all adds up to 48. That’s a number that can be halved four times. The number of hours in two days. The number of contiguous states here in America, that I think I’ve driven through completely now.

There are six odd numbers in my phone number, and three even ones, and one that – well, I thought was neither, but something in the back of my head is telling me that zero is an even number, right between positive and negative. How unbearably lovely that there can be two of nothing – that it’s never alone, even in its solitude. Somebody taught me that. I… just don’t remember who.

[click] 

[clock ticking] Okay. I checked to make sure your smoke alarm and carbon monoxide detectors were working. [crickets] I don’t know if your home feels like a home to you - if you’ve unpacked enough, or if you feel at ease when you come through the door, or if there’s trust here, or love. But it’s safe, at least in this way. I hope it’s safe in the other ones, too.

I can’t remember being in anyone’s home in the ordinary way, but I think I miss it. I think that whatever I’ve become – whatever I am now – might understand whatever Death is. We brush alongside a lot of people while we’re doing our different jobs, but we always leave, and we always leave alone. But what else is there to do? What else can you do when you’ve got a calling?

I can see my car out the window. There’s a figure in the passenger seat that I know won’t be there by the time I get outside. It never is. 

Tune your radio for me, will you? I’ll catch you over the airwaves. 

[click]

Thank you for listening, callers, and thank you for calling, listeners. I hope you feel a little bit lighter. I know I do. As always, our number is 717.382.8093. That’s 717.382.8093. Until next time. I’ll be here.

[static] [Traveling Sales Rep: visit us at the - diner just off -] [Various Garbled Voices: the - road - provides - the - road - provides -]

Thin Places Radio is a podcast written by Kristen O’Neal and produced by Kaitlin Bruder. The voice of Your Host is Kristen O’Neal.

Tonight’s voicemail was left for us by Katrina. Editing and sound design are by Kaitlin Bruder, and the music tracks you heard in tonight’s episode are: the Thin Places theme, by Miles Morkri, and Umeed by RANA. If you have a question to ask, a story to tell, or a suggestion for the host, give us a call at ‪(717) 382-8093. The lines are always open.

[Thin Places Theme outro]

[thelostcatpodcast]

THE LOST CAT PODCAST TRANSCRIPTS: S01 Ep03: The Hole Of The Leviathan

SEASON 1: EPISODE 3: THE HOLE OF THE LEVIATHAN

Episode released 28th  July 2014

http://thelostcat.libsyn.com/episode-3-the-hole-of-the-leviathan

The other day, while looking for my cat, I visited another plane of existence, I witnessed reality from a position of nowhere, and lost the colour in my left eye. How this happened was: The Hole Of The Leviathan has a pet rescue centre.

THE LOST CAT PODACAST, BY A P CLARKE, EPISODE 3: THE HOLE OF THE LEVIATHAN

People say if you press your belly button hard enough you turn inside out. People say, everything happens for a reason. People say, if you want a thing hard enough, you can make it happen.

People say the silliest of things, often with the most sincerest of tones.

Take my friend, who I had met down the pub for a drink, and to let him fix my radio. He enjoys drinking, and showing me how he knows how everything works. I enjoy drinking.

He always says ‘I’m certain’ at the end of his statements. I think he thinks it will make what he says more true.

For example:  “oh yeah, Your cat’ll definitely be at the Leviathan.,” he was saying with his fingers stuck in my radio. “I’m certain.”

“OK,” I replied.

“It’s obvious,” he concluded.

Don’t get me wrong, I love him, but I mean really. The more certain people sound, well, the more silly they sound. I think they think the talking will keep the darkness away. But if they would just stop talking for a moment they could hear the darkness already within them.

It is singing.

And if you visit the hole of the leviathans, half way up the high street, the darkness will sing in tune with the low moan emanating from the hole, pulsing in time with the tentacles rising up 100ft from it into the air.

I don’t know, Perhaps I am just in a bad mood. He is fixing my radio, after all.

Now the reason he was certain was: the low moan affects all the dogs and cats in the area. Possibly rabbits too: I am not an expert. Late at night they will sing along with it, lying with their heads upside down. A quiet, ululating whine that spiders shrink from.

It is a recognised phenomena that, if let off their leashes, pets will walk in concentric, predictable rings around the Hole Of The Leviathan. Locals simply let their dogs walk themselves as go and they have a coffee in the shop that opened next to the hole specifically to cater to them. The closer to the hole the animals get, the more docile they become.  Indeed you can see cats and birds lounging next to each other, all the way up the slowly pulsing tentacles that tower above the high street.

So you can see why it would be a natural fit for a pet rescue centre.

It is situated just under the right tentacle of the Leviathan. It takes all kinds of pets, and I had been assured they were very good at picking up strays. They have pop up markets every Wednesday. Squatters in the adjacent buildings put on gigs and other community events beneath the squamous shadow. For a large part of the community, The Hole Of The Leviathans is a very welcoming place, and a cultural centre for the local area.

The dark cloud thins above the Hole and sometimes the day breaks through. On good days the tentacles are bathed in sunlight. Really, it is lovely. You can navigate by them.

And anyway, what is a ‘low moan’? It sounds better than cars at any rate. If mixed with a steady harmonic of around 600hz, the result is quite relaxing to the human nervous system.  

People use it to go to sleep to.

Some have even ascribed aphrodisiac qualities to the low moan. But that’s musicians for you.

Here, have a listen. I will remove the background music and turn up the gain so you can hear it.

<low, slowly rising noise that sounds like an intergalactic storm crying into the void. Or something. Anyway, it gets really loud>

They say, if you listen long enough, you can hear someone calling for help.

I can’t say I have ever heard it. But what do I know?

My friend says that they are the sounds of lost souls, trapped there for ever. He says That once the void has you, it never let’s go.

“Really,” I say.

Because, honestly, I feel bad for the Leviathan. No one knew why it just stays where it is, stuck halfway out of the ground, never advancing, never retreating, and with cats lounging around on its tentacles. Does it know that its main effect on the world is to help children sleep at night? Poor thing.

Quite suddenly he loudly exclaimed “There!” and held up my old radio. “This is fixed. This will now pick up the low moan. Go on! Try it!”

So I tuned in the old analog radio to the low end of the am dial, and listened

<the slowly rising noise returns but, this time, as it reaches full volume, you can hear the distant but distinct noise of ‘meiows’>

“Oh my word. My cat. I am sure it is my cat. My cat is down there with the tentacles. He always did like fish.”

“Told you.”

“I have to go and get him. I have to go to the Hole Of The Leviathan!”

“Excellent. But not before you buy me another drink. Its your round,” he said.

I said, “Are you sure?”

But yeah, I went to the bar, and he went to the jukebox and we had another glass of wine.

<music plays: Slaughterhouse, written by A P Clarke. Performed by A P Clarke and W Walker Allen>

What else are you doing? You smoked your cigarette.

Come on there’s nothing on the tv.

The Slaughterhouse is open, every Friday night,

There’s a party you can go with me.

And from the blood on the floor, the gristle on the saw

the piles of glasses, teeth and car keys,

And the scratches on the door tell us those that came before

Went down, down, down to the Slaughterhouse.

Let’s get killed.

There’s tinsel on the handles, and flowers on the grates

The boys will follow girls wherever they go.

And the blades will make the rhythm, screams will make the tune

When the first cut comes that’s the start of the show.

There is petrol in the air, and the smell of burning hair

When the angel’s dress goes up she does a striptease.

And at night the only lights on anywhere in the town

are down, down, down at the Slaughterhouse.

Have ourselves a time.

Your bedroom smells like newspapers, your linen smells like smoke

and the cities are all empty but for people.

And you can hear the road from anywhere, the tiny clacking sound

machinery to keep a corpse alive.

See how much you’ve grown, have you ever seen your bones?

Don’t worry every part of you is used.

And when all that’s left is shoes, someone else will sing the blues

Down, down down at the Slaughterhouse

And have ourselves a time.

So the next day I borrowed marigold gloves from the kitchen, and travelled to The Hole Of The Leviathan. The tentacles swayed to their own gentle breeze above the houses.

I walked through the circle of dogs, careful not to interrupt their dazed ritual.

A fortunate side-effect of the immense size of the leviathan was that the gargantuan scales acted very much like a ladder. careful not to have my fingers squashed by the tectonic movements of the scales, I placed my hands in the joins and started my descent.

The flesh between the scales was soft and goo oozed around me. It was why I had worn marigolds. It was a tentacle after all, and one should expect this. To my human nose it smelt, of all things, like stale lavender.

Down in the hole, the light disappeared, the moan turned to a loud hum. All the sounds of the street went silent, the darkness within me sang in the hollow of my chest and I felt suddenly and entirely alone.

Then a voice sounded out loud in the centre of my head.

YOUR WORLD IS A HOLLOW SHELL WE WILL CRACK LIKE AN EGG. YOU ARE DUST IN WIND.

I don’t know why, but at this moment I said this: “You are speaking English.” It just occurred to me.

DO YOU SPEAK ANY OTHER LANGUAGE?

And, well, that was fair enough. I said, “I am sorry.”

YOUR WORLD SHALL BE DESTROYED IN THE GLORIOUS PAIN OF OUR BIRTH

I felt the urge to continue: “How do you speak?”

THAT REALLY ISN’T IMPORTANT.

“See, I mostly picture a squid.”

YOUR WORLD IS RUIN. PALTRY.  CRAVEN.

That was also fair enough. I said: “I can’t say that I disagree.”

DO YOU NOT KNOW TO WHOM YOU SPEAK?

“Well not really, no.”

WHY ARE YOU HERE?

“I am looking for my cat.”

YOU CAME HERE TO LOOK FOR A CAT?

“I like him.”

ENOUGH! I WILL SHOW YOU THE CHAOS BENEATH YOUR THIN SANITY!

The tentacle coiled around me. It tried in my ear, it slipped around my nose. It wrapped around my body, and then it found my belly button and slid its dripping end in.

And I turned inside out.

It did not hurt. And when I opened what I thought were my eyes, I saw the world from a position of nowhere.

I said: “woah.”

It was quite a thing.

DO YOU SEE? DO YOU SEE NOW? DO YOU SEE THE FUTILITY OF YOUR EXISTENCE?

“I’m sorry, no.”

I mean it was quite a thing.  But what use was it to me? I am someone. I am somewhere. What is the use in knowing something from nowhere? No wonder the world seemed so empty to this poor creature.

I was suddenly filled with a desire to help it.

TIME IS THE MEANS THE UNIVERSE HAS TO UNDERSTAND ITSELF. TIME IS MEASURED BY CHANGE IN STATES. CHANGE IN STATES USES ENERGY. ENERGY, IN BEING USED, IS GONE. BY THE UNIVERSE KNOWING ITSELF DOES IT MANUFACTURE ITS OWN DESTRUCTION. LIFE IS LOSS.

I don’t know. It just sounded so negative. I said: “life is defined by trying.”

YOU WILL EXHAUST YOUR ENERGY.

What else is it for?

SO WHAT ARE YOU USING YOURS FOR?

I am trying to find my cat.

YOU ARE… YOU ARE SERIOUSLY TRYING TO FIND YOU CAT?

Yes.

I… I DO NOT UNDERSTAND.

And it was in this that I finally knew why the leviathan stayed in its hole, neither retreating nor advancing, and staying in its limbo, half way up the high street. It was, simply, confused. It could not understand why cats would climb up it, nor why humans would open cafes near it. It could not understand why I would climb down into the darkness of its hole just to find my pet. It had lost its certainty. It simply did not know what to do.

HELP ME. HELP ME, it said.

It said: I AM…CONFUSED.

“I know. The world is a strange place, especially for those who seek order from it.”

YOU DO NOT FEAR ME.

I want to help you.

I… DO NOT KNOW WHAT TO DO.

“We all have to figure that out, I guess.”

WHAT ARE *YOU* TRYING TO DO?

“I am trying to find my cat.”

And there was silence for a long, long time. And then:

I… I WILL FIND YOUR CAT.

“… really?” I replied.

YES… YES… I WILL FIND YOUR CAT FOR YOU.

This felt like progress. I said “You can do this?”

YES. I CAN DO THIS.

This felt *good*.

And then it said: I CAN FIND YOUR CAT. I AM CERTAIN.

And I sighed. I must admit, I felt sad at this point, for I knew I truly could not help the Leviathan. Trapped forever in its confusion, and believing certainty was its map for escape.

“Its OK,” I said. “You do not need to.”

I MUST AND I WILL.

And then a great rumbling began beneath me, as if impossible masses were moving against each other.

IT IS BEGUN the Leviathan intoned, with something like smugness in its voice.

I did not have the heart to tell it people were using his emanations as a sex aid.

BEGONE. I MUST PREPARE MY ULTIMATE VICTORY, AND YOUR INEVITABLE DOOM.

“OK,” I said.

And he pushed me back into myself and I was here once again, holding on to a tentacle with the goldening sky only a few yards above me.

“Truly,” I said, down into the hole. “I wish you well.”

But the Leviathan, busy about its business, I guess, did not reply. But of my cat, there was no sign. I checked myself, and I seemed fine. I even still had my marigolds on.

So I rose from The Hole Of The Leviathan as the sun was just starting to set, and a band was just starting to play. It was a nice evening, all things considered, and I called up my friend to share a beer or two. They asked what happened.

I said “I went down the hole.”

He said “you’re an idiot.”

He sounded certain.

I don’t know. Maybe he was right?

He looked at me then, and asked if I was OK. He held up a candle to my face and then he saw it.  All the colour was gone from my left eye. There was the white and the dark spot at the centre, but nothing in-between.

As we were leaving, we noticed: all the dogs were now walking the opposite way around the hole.

I got home just before dark, and returned to my quiet, clean, empty room and felt sad that I could not help the Leviathan in its confusion. It would have to figure it out in its own time. But while it was doing that, I needed to sleep, so I tuned the radio down to its low moan, turned off the lights and went to bed.

<the low, rising moan returns but, this time, just as it reaches its full volume, one can clearly hear a familiar booming voice say “HELP ME. HELP ME”>

THIS HAS BEEN AN EPISODE OF THE LOST CAT PODCAST, WRITTEN AND PERFORMED BY A P CLARKE. COPYRIGHT 2014.

THANK YOU FOR LISTENING.

Links:

thelostcat.libsyn.com

twitter.com/LostCatPod

thelostcatpodcast.tumblr.com

facebook.com/lostcatpodcast

soundcloud.com/a-p-clarke/sets/the-lost-cat-podcast

apclarke.bandcamp.com/releases

[thespoonplayer]

(DJ) Spoon’s Review of 2018

This year I haven’t listened to much music at all, at least not in comparison to previous years and I certainly haven’t been to many gigs. I’m sure this won’t last but this year I’ve been busier at work so less likely to plug in, I’ve stuck to the radio in the car just to keep up with how messy Brexit really is (ooer a bit of politics) and my runs have been 100% fueled by podcasts so music has just taken a backseat. However, I couldn’t let the year go past without some kind of list...so here is a pot pourri of my favourite discoveries of 2018.

1. Podcasts

Seeing as these have been so important this year I’ll start here...and cheat slightly by bigging up some oldies, but good enough to bang on about again.

Old favourites : Running Commentary (Comedians Paul Tonkinson and Rob Deering take you on their runs and chat sometimes about running, but always about life, kids, comedy and anything that pops into their heads), Adam Buxton (always entertaining ramble chat from Dr Buckles whoever is on, I’ve learnt stuff and I’ve laughed a lot), My Dad Wrote a Porno (Sheer filth as ever but genuinely caused me to LOL during my runs, wondering if people can hear that I’m listening to chat about vaginal lids).

New entries : Off Menu (Ed Gamble and James Acaster opened their genie run fantasy restaurant a month ago and it has quickly become one of my favourite podcasts ever. Eclectic guests pick their fantasy 3 course meals, simple premise and it works. The Scroobius Pip episode was a perfect clash of two excellent pods), Blank (another late entry into 2018 from Jim Daly and Giles Paley-Phillips ostensibly about blank moments in life but just rammed with infotaining chat from ‘non standard’ guests including a jaw dropping episode with Michael Rosen and fun with Gary Lineker and Susie Dent), Poddin’ on the Ritz (sadly now finished with maybe its only series) this pod recorded backstage at Young Frankenstein by Hadley Fraser and the sublime Ross Noble made me laugh more than any other in 2018, it might be about musicals but their search for Kenneth Branagh’s snowglobes and Lesley Joseph adoration was a joy.

2. Board games

They say a family that plays together, stays together. Well we are together more than you can imagine. We’ve played over 220 games this year! Here are our favourite new games into our collection:

The game of the year is Azul, a seemingly simple tile grab and place game, building up a mosaic prettier than anyone else, is full of strategy and a little (but not too much) shafting of others. If you really want to shaft your fellow players though then pick up Unstable Unicorns, a card game where you aim to grow your stable of unicorns, whilst stopping others filling theirs. SO many different cards, tactics and ways to mess it up, you will swear at some point. Discovered in the excellent new board game cafe The Dice Box in Leamington, we bought Meeple Circus before we left, it’s that much fun. Rehearse and perform the best tiny wooden meeple circus performance, accompanied by a bespoke playlist. Stack the acrobats, balance the lions and raise the bar. Another board game cafe, Chance & Counters in Bristol introduced us to the frantic game of Klask, a cross between air hockey, pool and table football. Slide the magnets around to flick a ball into your opponents hole, avoid the magnetic biscuits and don’t KLASK! When is a game not a game? another game of the year has been played a lot in our house, and it’s The Mind. 100 cards numbered 1-100, no words between players and a tense task to lay cards in ascending order. Simple? yes? possible? nope! but it’s sure to cause fun and arguments. The final two of MY favourite sadly aren’t quite as loved by my family, but I’ll get them there. Sagrada is a similar game to Azul with you attempting to build a beautiful stained glass window with coloured dice. More variations and thinking needed than Azul which adds to the challenge. And finally and lovely chess like 2 player game which transports you to the sun dappled Greek island of Santorini. Take the powers of a god and build the traditional blue domed white houses of the island whilst trying to stop your opponent climbing onto a roof. A lot of ‘aha, you’ve stopped me’ moments.

3. TV

It’s been a long old year at work, and in the world of parenting so we’ve found ourselves flopped on the settee many evenings just soaking up great drama, comedy and chilling ;o)

We are very late to the party with Suits but that means we have 8 series to wade through! Really neat writing, bants and relationships between characters, a ‘don’t worry they will always win’ calmness about it and you get to see the Queen in her knickers...ish. Another Netflix treat this year was Magic for Humans with Justin Willman, a hugely likeable and funny magician pulling off tricks that constantly make me smirk with a huge dollop of WTF? amazing. A huge recommendation. A late entry to my TV highlights of 2018 is from the warped warped mind of Charlie Brooker...of course with Bandersnatch. An interactive choose your own adventure TV ‘event’ (I know) that had us hooked for the full 90 minutes (only if you want to see how much bloodshed you can invoke!). Completely on the other end of the spectrum was the sublime and minimalistic Mortimer and Whitehouse: Gone Fishing. I don’t like fishing and why would I find two old mates just teasing each other for half an hour entertaining? No idea but it was beautiful. Like Radio 4, comforting and perfect. Then a few suspenseful dramas that got us on the edge of the settee, Killing Eve (quirky AF), Bodyguard (did they really kill Keely Hawes that early?) and Informer (bleak bleak bleak) and sweaty bullocks in ‘should be in the next section really’ Bird Box (made Informer seem like a giggle fest).

4. Films

Really haven’t been to the cinema much in the last 12 months and only once to see a ‘grown up’ film I think but kid’s films are SO good at the moment that’s ok. A few stand out films for me were:

Ralph Breaks the Internet, much better than the first one, lots of #lolz internet jokes and more than a little heart. Wrap me up in a duvet and give me a hot cocoa and Paddington 2 any day, tears at the end. A little more sighing but just as much emotion in Christopher Robin, not sure why Eeyore had an American accent but the characters were spot on and nicely faithful to the original concepts. The one time I did venture out for an adult (it’s a 12 so almost ;o) and saw Ready Player One I was delighted, yeah it might not be a) as good as or b) anything like the book but a visual treat and an enjoyable romp.

5. Books

I read A LOT, until my Kindle donks me on the head in bed anyway...literally a tiny selection of books that have kept me awake. 

The Secret Lives of Colour - Kassia St Clair. They say never judge a book by its cover. Well that didn’t work...I bought this purely because it is a beautiful package, the hardback a lot more pleasing imho. Simply 2 coloured pages about how each colour was discovered, invented and introduced throughout history. I never really gave it a thought that colours were...made. Weird and fascinating.

This Is Going to Hurt - Adam Kay. A hilarious ‘secret’ diary of a junior doctor that horrifies at the same time. I think we all knew it was a hard life but bloody hell, if you didn’t love the NHS before you will after this. A thoroughly enjoyable and insightful story of Adam’s journey through medicine. And that ending...wooof.

Moose Allain - I Wonder What I’m Thinking About. I love Moose, I love his colour-me-advent calendars, I love his tweet threads that show the best in Twitter, I love his cartoons and this book is all of those wrapped up in one. And a certain Mr Spoon is to thank for the publication, find me in the back of Unbound funders! An inspiring book for anyone who loves art, creativity and childish humour.

Factfulness : Ten Reasons We’re Wrong About the World - Hans Rosling. A brilliantly clever and educational book about why the world is NOT as shit as it might seem some times. It’s all backed up by real data and lovely lovely graphs!

Lee Child and Ian Rankin. A highlight of the year is the next Reacher and Rebus novels and these two didn’t disappoint. Rebus’ latest adventure Past Tense, is a self-contained story that could introduce anyone to the man machine that is Jack Reacher. Rebus however is back, retired but won’t lie down, in In A House of Lies, an old case comes back to haunt him and will this finally be his downfall? I doubt it!

6. Music

As mentioned, I haven’t ‘been into music’ as much in 2018 for various reasons but I’ve still enjoyed some great new discoveries:

Barns Courtney - The Attractions of Youth, discovered via the use of Glitter and Gold for the theme tune of Netflix’s Safe. An album of ‘cheesy, commercially viable blues and folk rock’ apparently. I just liked the visceral nature of some of the tracks and it always fired me up at work on slow days.

Isaac Gracie - Isaac Gracie, a rare listened to recommendation from my wife. Isaac is everything I claim to like, fragile thin sensitive boys with acoustic guitars....and I do very much with this. Painful screeched out tales of heartbreak. Sublime.

R.E.M. - Live at the BBC, 104 rare and live tracks from arguably one of the best bands ever. Some of the tracks I haven’t heard since my bootleg cassette buying days at Sheffield Uni, when the world was in black and white. Not all tracks are of the greatest audio quality but bliss for a fanboy like me.

Creep Show - Mr Dynamite, a spin off project for Mr John Grant and even from the eclectic crooner this is an odd one. Glitchy electronica with vocoders all over the place. Weird and very Marmite.

Public Service Broadcasting - Every Valley and everything else. The latest offering from the other PSB was a trip through the miner’s crisis and Thatcher years. Bleak? yup but fascinating snippets of well, public service broadcasting and guest stars including the obligatory Welsh rockers the Manics. This album is perfect by itself but it ‘forced’ me to go back and really discover all the PSB albums. The Live at Brixton release is a huge recommendation, I wish I was there.

Rex Orange County - Apricot Princess, maybe I just added this in to seem cool as Rex, aka Alexander O’Conner, was ‘one to watch in 2018′ from the BBC. A multi-instrumentalist that dabbles with hippity hop, R&B and piano pop. The first track alone contains about three musical styles if you wait. 

7. Food & Drink

I run, because I really like food. And thankfully I’ve run a lot in 2018 so I got to enjoy a lot.

I was introduced to the weird fermented tea monstrosity that is kombucha by my sister-in-law. Vinegar tasting drink that may or may not help your gut that grows in your living room. WTAF? However, health benefits aside the LA Brewery Strawberry and Black Pepper drink is something, alongside my pilgrimage to Leon, worth going to London for. I’ve heard it’s also for sale in Solihull but I don’t often travel that far beyond my class ;o) I’d say, try it...but I suspect 9/10 people with hate the flavour. 

I suspect 10/10 people that try the Aldi Black Forest Mince Pies would love them, but you won’t get a chance as I’ve bought them ALL. Aldi are a bugger for getting you hooked then never restocking. I only managed 10 boxes in 2018 and we’ve rationed well so have 12 left to get us through the bleak January weather. Cherries, Dark Chocolate, Chocolate pastry and a smidge of mincemeat. Perfect!

There are many ingredient delivery services available and I’ve only tried Gousto but I don’t know why you’d go anywhere else. 33 recipes tried and 32 of them I’d have again, with the one not so good one was still far better than anything I’d cook by myself. So easy, so tasty and if you want to try it I can give you a big discount that will help us buy another box, a tad expensive without a discount but worth a treat every so often.

Genuinely I traveled to London just to visit Max’s Sandwich Shop...kinda. It was certainly the deciding factor in a day out at the Summer Exhibition (see below). I downloaded the Kindle version of this book when it was promoted in an email, I bought some Scampi Fries and made a Fish Finger sandwich, I crumbled up some Ginger Nuts into a Mascarpone and Jam sandwich and I made a Fried Egg, Shoestring Fried and Gammon sandwich then I NEEDED to go and see how it’s really done. Amazing over the top sandwiches in a rough little hipster cafe in Stroud Green (no me neither and it’s a long walk from the tube!). So good I had to a) buy the hard copy of the book and b) carry half the sandwich home as even I couldn’t manage it all...not with deep fried macaroni balls filling me up ;o)

8. Places

A family that plays together, stays together as a great man once said. And we don’t just play inside, we love adventures so adventures we had.

I’d never been to the Royal Academy Summer Exhibition, as it’s in that there London which often seems hundreds of miles away...but I’m so glad that I visited this year. A trip with a good friend with neither of us knowing quite what to expect. We saw, and laughed, and marveled at, paintings, sculptures, videos, photos, models, and weirdness by Banksy next to Joe Lycett next to Grayson Perry next to Harry Hill, next to me mate Lorsen Camps from Coventry. The SA allows ANYONE to submit artwork for consideration and anyone can be accepted. I think this has to become a yearly visit, awesome.

My parents have been wanting to take our kids, and their big kid, to The Forbidden Corner in North Yorkshire for a few years now...and I’m so happy we finally got round to going. Started as a folly to entertain his children this huge labyrinthine site is crammed with strange sculptures, mazes, tricks and squirting fountains. Many hours were spent squeezing through holes, getting lost and getting wet. Beautifully eccentric.

A family holiday to Brittany meant we could visit the loopy city (it’s their phrase!) of Nantes and more importantly Les Machines d’Ile. Ostensibly the workshop of  a group of engineers and artists that make huge animatronic machines and animals...that you can ride on! Needs to be seen to be believed, the Elephant brings out the big kid in everyone...and we can’t wait to go back in a few years when they’ve built a huge forest over the river with ride on caterpillars and dragonfly. Incredible. The city itself is dotted with crazy art and interactive pieces encouraging play, I know a city closer to home that should be the UK Loopy City of Culture!

Luckily Tilly is a Harry Potter obsessive AND it was her birthday last year so it gave us the excuse we didn’t need to visit the Warner Brothers Harry Potter Studio Tour. Wow, just wow. The incredible detail in everything made for the film, the engineering, the amount of artists involved and the presentation of the exhibition blew us away. I’ve enjoyed everything in this list but this maybe was the most magical in the best way.

Many many amazing experiences warrant a mention, but I just don’t have enough words, include Talking Birds - Walk with Me, Print Manufactory Darkroom Workshop, Ludic Rooms Random String Festival, Go Karting with Tilly, some dancing balloons in Broadgate, Godiva Festival with Tony Christie et al, Bristol Gromit trail, Disc Golfing with my girls, Edinburgh Fringe with Dick and Dom and with another wonderful dick from Coventry starring in Bon Jovi musical We’ve Got Each Other, Pandas! at Edinburgh Zoo, Matilda the Musical with Tilly at last, running the Coventry Mile with the girls’ school, Dippy the Dinosaur in Brum, Wicksteed Park (amazing family fun theme park like what they used to be), Cycling on Stratford Greenway in the sun, Autotesting at MotoFest, Bourton-on-the-Water (it’s just a shame 3 million other people know about this gorgeous village), Giant Pac Man in the city centre, Pork Pie making with a good friend, CET several times, Novelty Automation in London and being on The One Show, a couple of Hope & Social gigs and much much much more fun with my wonderful fam and friends. Roll on 2019!

[yammineyammine]

Yammine: Best Universal Car Phone Holder: WizGear Magnetic Air Vent Review

I do the majority of my online shopping on Amazon.

They’ve got an awesome selection, super fast shipping, and best of all – cheap prices.

I can’t remember what I was shopping for, but I stumbled upon these WizGear Universal Air Vent Magnetic Car Phone Holders for under $10 and I figured what the heck, we’ll try them out.

I’ve seen plenty of Uber and Lyft drivers using them, and they seemed kinda neat. I normally just put my phone in the ash tray, which wasn’t an ideal placement but seemed to be doing just fine.

What’s cool is that when they arrived it was a two-pack, so I put one in my car and another in my wife’s car, justifying the impulse purchase as a thoughtful gift for my better half.

“Thanks, I guess” she said, with neither of us knowing why I decided to buy these other than to help Jeff Bezos get even richer.

But after using them for a few weeks, we both became believers. It’s hard to believe something so simple can make such a big difference, but it turns out that you use your phone in the car a lot – often for getting directions or playing music – and that having it closer to eye level is really convenient.

It also means your phone doesn’t shift around when you turn, and using the phone mount keeps your cup holders and ash trays open for better uses of the space.

If you’re still putting the phone in your lap, ash tray, or center console, I’m telling you – you’re missing out.

Installation couldn’t be easier, they slide right into the vents of your car.

It does block some of the air flow to your phone, but not by much. Neither of us seem to notice or care, and you can leave the vent on and air will still get around your phone anyway.

Be sure to make sure it is snug, there are two settings on the back depending on if you have thin or thick vents. When you install it, it should be hard to push on, as that means it will stay in place.

I put mine as close to the steering wheel as possible, so that it is as close to my line of sight when driving. I’ve seen other people put it to the left of the steering wheel and that also works well too, especially if you don’t want passengers looking at your phone.

In your phone case, slide in a magnetic backing plate and you’re ready to go. So far I’ve tested this with my old iPhone 7, my new iPhone XR, and my wife’s iPhone Plus, and it can handle all of these sizes just fine.

The phone automatically sticks to the giant magnet, but is easy to remove when you’re arrived at your destination and it’s time to depart the vehicle.

You can also angle your phone vertically or horizontally, the magnets work either way just fine so you can choose the orientation that is best for you.

Combined with my Viseoo Bluetooth Music player, this phone mount is great for getting directions as well as playing internet radio, podcasts, or whatever I want to listen to on my phone. You could even put it on the passenger side and play movies on long road trips. I haven’t tested it with an iPad yet, but I’d imagine it hold up just fine to that as well.

Best of all, when you sell your car, it removes easily and can be transferred into the next vehicle you buy, so you can keep it a very long time. The magnetic plates also transfer easily, so if you’re like me and always want to have the latest and greatest phone, no problem – you only need to buy this once.

For under $10, it’s a great purchase to make your driving experience more enjoyable, and given how often you’ll use it, it’s a no-brainer to pick one up.

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[francetaste]

One of those serendipitous moments happened recently as I wiped down a new old sofa and otherwise puttered in the apartment that overlooks the courtyard.

In order to not lose my mind–actually to lose myself inside my mind–while doing uninteresting or unpleasant tasks, I listen to podcasts. No amount of mindfulness is going to make me all zen about mopping the floor or sorting laundry or running (or sewing!). I want to get the job done with minimal pain, and the best analgesic is one that makes me think about something else, the more esoteric, the better. Sometimes I do not want to focus on what I am doing. At all.

The first to entertain me was Lauren Bastide, with the most wonderful, we’re-there-in-the-room conversation with Amandine Gay (“La Poudre“).  I was riveted by pieces about the new movie “Tower” and the decline of Lancaster, Pennsylvania (both on “Fresh Air,” which has the greatest interviewer ever, Terry Gross). I discovered Lady Lamb (thanks to “On Point”). People talked about medical mysteries (TED Radio Hour). But then I had no more podcasts left in my feed.

So I switched to the NPR One app, which is like a slot machine for podcasts, except that you never lose. They themselves call it Pandora for public radio–more PG-rated than a slot machine. First I got the founders of Kate Spade talking about how they got started (on “How I Built This“)–a logical progression because both Ted Radio Hour and How I Built This are hosted by Guy Raz, who has the most unbelievable name ever. Then the app decided I needed to hear a show I was unfamiliar with, called “Stuff You Missed in History Class.” WTF? HOW DID THEY KNOW????

I was mostly an A+ student, but I have no idea how  I pulled it off in history (my only non-A’s were in gym class–C. “She never makes trouble” was the only nice thing the gym teacher found to say about me, year after year. Yes, I saw my old report cards not long ago). Those dates…they just wouldn’t adhere to my brain cells, even though I am a math lover and have no trouble memorizing zip codes and country dialing codes. However, it didn’t work with history. And it’s too bad, because I have come to love history, though I still don’t remember the dates. I treat dates in history the way I treat recipes–approximations are good enough. Freudian analysis would probably��figure it out, but that would take too much time and effort. And anyway, all I really care about are the stories.

The history podcast was about another momentous women’s march–on Versailles! And there I was, on my knees, rubbing an ammonia solution into a Louis XVI sofa to strip it of all traces of its very charming former owner. Louis XVI! The one getting marched on in that very podcast!

An aside here to discuss the fine lady who was getting rid of her sofa. She was suffering from back pain and was going for an operation any day now, though that didn’t stop her from grabbing the coffee table and rolling up the carpet in front of the sofa–the Carnivore and I were going nuts trying to stop her but she was as quick as butter on a hot skillet. She stood about to my shoulder, which, considering I’m short, is nothing. I bet she didn’t weigh 40 kilos. A wisp of a woman.

As the Carnivore manipulated our neighbor’s camionette (a kind of enclosed pickup that’s very common in France) into her driveway, I chatted with Madame about life. The conversation quickly turned to death. She explained that she was keeping one of the armchairs that matched the sofa because it had been her mother’s, who had lived with her before dying. She then segued to her husband, who died suddenly, in his sleep, not long ago (which might have been a few years, I wasn’t sure). Trying to comfort her, I told her that my parents had died recently, relatively quickly, and in light of what I’d seen, I think the quicker the better. I am not alone in this. When I was leaving my post as a teacher in Africa, my students collected messages for me, and one sweet student wished me “a happy family, a happy life and a quick death!”

Madame grasped my arm and said, “Chut!” (Shush!) But then she went on anyway, and we talked about how a slow death does prepare the survivors for the idea that the loved one would be no longer, while a quick death is probably nicer for the person dying but a shock for the family.

This lady was selling some things in her finely furnished (“j’étais décoratrice!”) little house in order to move in with or near to her daughter, who had married an Italian and had followed him to Milan (she contorted her small, thin face at this, as if she had bitten into a spoiled fruit). First an operation on her back in France, then a new life in Italy. I felt sorry for her, abandoning all the stuff that reminded her of happier times–for some people, stuff is an end unto itself, a way to achieve some kind of status, but for others it is a totem of people or memories of happy times, and, though I knew her but for less than an hour, I think that, even if years ago she was in the former category, she now was in the latter). Plus, the weather in Milan is pretty crappy,  compared with Aude.

Back to the furniture. The sofa is, obviously, a reproduction of Louis XVI. He’s better known as the husband of Marie Antoinette. I say “obviously” because it’s a sofa-bed, a technology that came somewhat later than the late 1700s. Madame said she bought it in Revel, which is a hub for marquetry and fine furniture making. Considering how heavy it is, I believe her.

Louis XVI came after 15 other Louis (Louises?), the first of whom appeared in 814 A.D. The first Louis had a tough act to follow: Charlemagne. There were LOTS of other kings before the first Louis (who was known as both “the pious” AND “the debonaire”!!!!! How did he manage that?), but they had names like Chilperic and Childeric and Chlothar and Dagobert. (You should know that in some places–like Belgium–a dagobert is not unlike a Dagwood sandwich, giving the mitraillet a run for the money.)

The later Louis (Louises?) became known for their interior décors. We won’t spend time on the earliest ones. Louis II, aka “the stutterer”!! Too bad he didn’t see “The King’s Speech.” There also were Louis the Fat (they really weren’t politically correct in those times) and Louis the Young and Louis the Lion and St. Louis (the IX–9th–who built the “new” town of Carcassonne around 1260).  Then Louis X, aka the Quarreler; Louis XI, aka “the prudent, the cunning, the universal spider.” Sorry, but that one is The Best!!! Being Prudent, Cunning AND a Universal Spider? OMG. What a MAN! Or was he a superhero? But that was from 1461-1483. They don’t make them like they used to. Or maybe they do, except for the prudent part, and we are like flies stuck in a trap.

Louis XII was the “father of the people,” followed by a number of other-named monarchs, including Henri II, whose style was much-copied later.

Louis XIII (13th), aka “the Just,” was in the first half of the 1600s. We know that our apartments existed in 1624, though they might have been there earlier. (I will try to get to the bottom of this one day.) His style is known for lots of twists (torsades) and straight lines, which seems like a contradiction, eh?

Louis XIV was known as Louis the Great or the Sun King. Hard to beat that (though his great-grandson, Louis XV–“the Beloved”–seems to have). Fourteen ruled from 1643-1715 and built Versailles. Think glam.

And then we get to Louis XVI (we’re up to 16 here–seize in French, pronounced “says”), the “restorer of French liberty,” who ruled from 1774 to 1792. Note those dates! What happened just two years after 1774? Hmmm! An era of foment all over the place.

Marquetry

Having read “A Tale of Two Cities” (“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.” Sidney Carton: “It’s a far, far better thing that I do than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known.” Did you, too, have to memorize that in high school?) and Victor Hugo’s “Les Miserables” (“It is nothing to die. It is frightful not to live.”), I had an impression of the French Revolution as having been a bloody affair directed by perhaps well-meaning but vicious people like Madame Lafarge, Javert, Rousseau and Robespierre and that the revolution was at full swing from the moment the people stormed the Bastille on July 14, 1789, until the day Louis XVI and Marie-Antoinette lost their heads on the guillotine in 1792. But in fact, the revolution started earlier and the king hung on for several years. Talks happened, spiced up by marches, including by nasty women.

Among the problems at the time, as “What You Missed in History Class” explains for us, were bad harvests, government deficits, over-taxation and illiquidity. It boiled down to the masses starving.

You must listen to the podcast to get all the details, but basically, people were fed up with not being fed. Call it a minimum wage issue. The podcasters express doubts that Louis XVI was actually evil incarnate or even just callous but instead suspect that he was way over his head and incompetent. In any case, a revolution was born.

Despite all that bad blood, Louis XVI’s style remains much-coveted today. OK, coveted among people who think that IKEA is great if you are 20 years old and on a small budget but then you should buy furniture that will last more than three years, and that proves it by having lasted already more than 100. Coveted by people who do not want to sit on backless benches at dinner. Who do not think that plastic chairs, even Eames, are chic or comfortable.

But how to keep your Louis, Louis, Louis, Louis straight? (And Louis is pronounced like Louie, not Lewis.) First of all, FirstDibs has a great explainer of the different Louis (Louises?). If you are just starting out, start here. Another great resource is the Metropolitan Museum of Art with essays on French chairs and 18th century French furniture more generally.

As the Louvre explains (and they should know), you have Louis XIV and the Regency from 1660-1725, then Rococo from 1725-1755, then classicism and the reign of Louis XVI from 1755-1790.

When I lived in Brussels and Paris was much closer than from where I am now in the deepest corner of rural France (which actually used to be Spain), I always partook of Les Journées de Patrimoine, in which many buildings of historical significance are opened to the public. Sometimes they are museums that drop their usual ticket charges, but the best are government or private buildings that otherwise are strictly off-limits. Once, I toured the Banc de France–like the Federal Reserve, especially because I visited before the euro–and was in a group of very well-dressed, impeccably coiffed, middle-aged Parisians. The kind of people known as bourgeois, or if younger as BCBG—bon chic, bon genre. I saw a couple, in nearly matching tweed suits (her in a skirt, him in trousers whose crease up until that moment had been razor-sharp), on their hands and knees looking at the underbelly of an antique gilded demi-lune console. It’s true there were amazing antiques in every direction, with computers and papers plonked on top.

Fit for a throne

The Carnivore is very sensitive about Louis (Louises?), and is partial to No. 16. He searched high and low for a toilet-paper holder that was in the style of Louis XVI. Even though according to this, toilet paper didn’t get cheap enough for the masses until much later. Far more impressive is the history given by ToiletPaperWorld, which mingles Stephen Crane, money and defecation. “French royalty used lace.” No wonder there was a revolution! (The delicacy of the terms the sites uses is an impressive exercise in euphemisms.)

I have seen references around the Internet to “Louis chairs,” to which I think, WHICH Louis? This alone should qualify me for French citizenship. But which Louis matters only if you’re paying top euro for what’s supposed to be the real thing, in which case, you had better know better. For everything else, “Louis” means something sorta French-antique-looking, probably Louis XVI.

All the same, I have seen how the French teach their young to know their Louis (Louises?). From the time our kid was in the equivalent of second grade, the whole memorize-your-kings thing started. Which is probably why, on a different tour during les Journées de Patrimoine, the docent told us the story of a beautifully painted stucco ceiling in the Marais of Paris, and several of the tour-goers objected vociferously to the dates and kings cited. I was dumbstruck to be in the middle of a heated argument about something that had happened 400 years earlier. At the same time, I was full of admiration, because I absolutely cannot remember such dates.

As for serendipity, what is one of the most beautiful and joyful words in the English language (in French, it’s “happy luck,” not nearly as fun a word as serendipity), algorithms and artificial intelligence are snatching it away from us. Serendipity is opening a newspaper and happening to spy something interesting and relevant. Serendipity is walking into a shop and finding just what you need on sale. Serendipity is running into a friend you haven’t seen in ages someplace unexpected (I once bumped into an old dance buddy from NY in the line for the opera in Rome). Now our news is filtered based on what we like, we shop online for things that are pushed to us, and we know where everybody we’ve ever met is at any moment.

Some of my greatest “aha” moments have been when I have read or listened to things that on the surface didn’t interest me in the least. But they were in publications or on programs that I knew did good work, so I gave them my time. And I was rarely disappointed. I never would have sought out “Stuff You Missed in History Class.” But it came to me, with a story that touched exactly on what I was doing.

Serendipity rules.

Louis, Louis, Louis, Louis One of those serendipitous moments happened recently as I wiped down a new old sofa and otherwise puttered in the apartment that overlooks the courtyard.