Quote, Krasznahorkai

The incidental resemblance to or concurrence with reality of any of the characters, names, and locations in this novel are exclusively due to wretched happenstance, and in no way express the intention of the author.

— Baron Wenckheim’s Homecoming, Laszlo Krasznahorkai

(I’m reading a lot of Krasznahorkai again, so maybe this should be a blogchain. We’ll see. I spent last night marking up his Paris Review interview.)

My Personal Instagram “Lifehack”

Make a new email address. Don’t give it to anybody.

Use it to make a new Instagram account. Don’t tell anybody.

Plug the new account into Grids for Windows (or Mac OSX) or whatever similar app your operating system uses.

Don’t add anyone you know. Use it to find beautiful things, so that it becomes a proper window on the world. Grids will slowly update the feed on its own, so the windowframes shift.

It goes up on the external monitor on my desk. It’s calm. It does not engage. It’s a receiver. The value of receivers is a thing that could stand to be rediscovered.


Via Experimental Cinema:

The first film in the style of “trash”, filmed in the USSR.
Throughout the film trilogy the main character goes through a series of temptations that destroy his soul and bring, eventually, to the madhouse. In a General sense, allegorically the film shows the tragic path of the Russian lumpen-intellectual, lost between past and present, not finding the strength to accept and comprehend it fell down on the unexpected change that occurred in our country twenty years ago. In a global sense – a tragic cycle of Russian history.


This was a gift. I’m sure everyone at Shakesphere was very pleased with themselves when they came up with the name for their round-bottomed protein shaker.

Newsletter is written, boards are marked up, emails are scheduled, SLOW DAY by Horizon Diver is getting a listen, I’m about to throw PICTURES OF THE OLD WORLD up on the big screen and get some thinking done.

SELVA OSCURA, William Basinski + Lawrence English

The phrase Selva Oscura draws its root from Dante’s Inferno. Literally translated as “twilight forest,” it metaphorically speaks to both those who find themselves on the unfamiliar path and more explicitly the nature of losing one’s way in place and time.

Each of the extended pieces on this record maps an acoustic topography that draws on the concept of drifting into the strange familiar. The works each dwell in an ever shifting, yet fundamentally constant state of unfolding. As one sound fades away, another is revealed in its place, creating a sense of an eternal reveal.

I’m in haunted hyperspace with the mist and the trees and life is good

Four Drones For Casiotone MT-40 And Yamaha PSS-680

Does what it says on the tin.

From Mark Williamson, who, as Spaceship, made the recent marvellous OUTCROPS. I tell you, if I ever go north, it will be purely because of the music coming out of the local affiliated New Weird Britain of late.


I dunno if this is notes, or notes to self, but the jotter is here for reasons:

I’ve really had no time to give this place any thought for a few months, and mostly use it to log stuff. Which is fine, because logging stuff is half the reason I caused the thing to exist.

I was looking into a timestamp app for using on photos, but all the iOS timestamping apps look bad. I’m not even sure why that got stuck in my head, except perhaps that I find it easy to fire photos here from my phone, and a photo is sometimes more useful than words.

And many of my photos here flow through into Instagram automatically, so it’s another way to make me look alive on social media. Which shouldn’t, of course, be a concern; but also is, because, as a cultural worker who now produces on long timeframes, it doesn’t hurt to be seen to be at least alive.

Also, it would be nice to experiment with new ways to do this thing. There’s been a new spate of “keep blogging weird”-style posts here and there – and even as I write this I have an old muscle memory twitch of “don’t blog about blogging!” — and I’m aware that this space ain’t weird and doesn’t innovate. And it would be nice to fuck around with it a bit.

After I started thinking about that, I saw Venkatesh go to an odd timestamped format, and his explanation has interest.

The culprit in the stillborn promise of log-like writing of blogs was the introduction of names. Meaningful, theme-scoping names. Attention-seeking meaningful, theme-scoping names. Specifically the headline.

I mean, the lack thereof is what caught everyone’s eye about tumblelogs, way back when. I still think the tumblelog was a marvellous thing that got usurped and murdered by Tumblr (even as Tumblr itself gave different things back and had its own value).

(Kicking around, I discovered Trivium is still going, from an original tumblelogger.)

Tumblelogs, as early microblogging forms, also obviously form part of Twitter’s DNA, and Venkatesh gets into some of that too. Interestingly, though, the chain he’s started in this format are long things that read like stream-of-consciousness exercises or exhaustive trains of thought.

Much like this one, which I will close now so that I can figure out the third plot stream in this story document.

SIREN, Grove Of Whispers

I still miss John Tocher’s SADAYATANA podcast, but it’s always nice to see him releasing new music under his Grove Of Whispers brand, and this is a good one.

I tend to carry around at least one or two of his pieces on my phone.