Jodorowsky's Dune is a documentary about outlandish Chilean director Alejandro Jodorosky's attempt at a film adaptation of Frank Herbert's Dune in the 1970s. As a big fan of the novel and of science fiction in general, I was very interested in this film. It does not disappoint. It gives a great insight into the mind of a little known (if slightly batty) director and shows even an artistic failure can lead to shock waves that can be felt in later work by others.
There is so much good writing out there. All you have to do is fire up the guardian website, or download the medium app to your smartphone, or visit my friend Barrie's site, or Lee's, and so on and so on.
When it comes to my little whisper into this great choir, it's easy to feel a bit intimidated. How do I add my voice? How do I feel distinct? How do I do it as well as all these other wonderful writers?
Last night an impromptu firework display occurred. I watched it from my bathroom window. Very pretty and somewhat extravagant, given that there’s no reason for one on the calendar. I could have filmed it on meerkat but it would have diminished the spectacle. However, it did at least motivate me to write this piece that I have put off for a while (since about November I guess?). One where I find out (i.e. look up on Wikipedia) how fireworks work.
Glow by Ned Beauman is about a guy called Raf, a Londoner whose life is going nowhere in particular; a state of affairs not helped by “Non-24 Hour Sleep/Wake Syndrome”. One night while experimenting with a new ecstacy-like drug that’s apparently derived from a social anxiety medication for dogs, Raf meets a beautiful girl and then loses her to the crowd in a blink-and-you-miss-it moment. From there a conspiracy evolves involving the titular dog-medication-derived drug, Burmese dissidents, corporate espionage, pirate radio stations, and urban foxes.
Ministry of Sound boss Lohan Presencer does the cry baby act in today's Guardian, complaining that Spotify's freemium model doesn't allow him to bathe in a Scrooge McDuck style swimming pool of golden coins any more. The cat is out of the bag for streaming music now, and no matter how much music companies cry foul they can't stop Spotify and their ilk, and there wouldn't be pots of gold waiting for them even if they could.
Presencer goes on to say that he fears for artist development in this post-streaming world. Personally I think he's more worried about whether he can sell any more shitty themed compilations that aren't dance music but nonetheless trade on Ministry of Sound's credentials. But let's take him at face value and explore this point. Will allowing people to stream some of the music that they like for free affect artist development?
Owners of cats will know that their pets love to bring home a tribute. Usually a bloody sparrow poised on the cusp of life, with the joy of the kill deferred to its grateful recipient. Other times expensive koi carp fished out of suburban ponds. Sometimes impossibly large spiders caught weaving their own ironic cat’s cradles between their captor’s outstretched paws, just so.