2012 a review of the last 6 months

THIS IS SOMETHING I NEVER QUITE FINISHED WRITING.
I'm not going to bother finishing it now. It just tails off and that's fine with me.
I've accepted it.

It must have been early Jan 2012

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

So as I write this I've now been back in the UK for 6 months.

And what of it?

Well here's some observations I've made about whats going on here.

Economy

Now when I left England Woolworths had just closed. In my mind we were at the edge.

When I left the local paper's job issue (every thursday) would have a caption reading 8,000 jobs inside today.

Since being back that same caption now reads 127 jobs inside today.

Bit of a downturn.

Arts Jobs

So with the Slashing of the Arts council and complete obliteration of the film council I was thinking that the UK was not really going to be able to give me much in the way of work.

The way it turns out though is that I have had quite a decent amount of job offers and "Artist" work coming in. But then, I know people.

Signing on

As you probably know, (if you didn't you are nothing to me), I love the old signing on process.

On of my favourite biweekly experiences.

However this has all changed. The way it used to work was you'd choose 3 areas of work you could do and the Job Centre Plus (same as Job Centre but everything starts an hour later) would arrange interview for any jobs that fall under your search umbrella. Not any more. When I went to sign for the first time upon my return I was told to just choose 1 job. My ideal job, and if it ever became available then they'd let me know. Other than that they just need me to pop in once a fortnight and say hello. The biggest change I noticed is that they could no longer afford to give me a plastic wallet to keep all my Job Seeker's stuff in. This was blamed on "Cameron's Cutbacks".
I've since signed off and recently tried to get working tax credits but after filling out my application got sent a letter demanding I pay back all the doll money they'd given me in the first 13 weeks I was back.
Bullshit.

The Coalition Government

Seriously what is this shit?

I watched it all happen from the safety of my Asian office and couldn't work out what was going on. Why don't people use their vote? Was my first question. 61.5% turnout I read. So more than last time but still not even 2/3 of the population.

As I watched this unfold I was living in a country so riddled with corruption that voting is a pointless endeavour. A country where the government made it illegal for opposing political parties to advertise and regularly buy votes and file the votes of thousands of recently dead. And I looked to you Britain, I looked to you to take your chance to make a positive change and you wasted it.

This was then followed by the AV referendum. 50% turn out in Scotland and only 35% in London. That was our chance to change it all and you missed it. If you did not vote in the AV referendum then stop reading this now. Turn your computer off put your hands in your back pockets and smash your face into a wall. If you did vote I don't particularly care which way you voted as long as you believed in the choice you made.

If you didn't make a choice because you didn't know which side of he debate you agreed with then again, fair enough take your hands out of your pockets. But if you were just too lazy to find out what it was all about or you were of the opinion that "it won't make any difference either way" then smash away.

A people who don't vote is what certain governments strive for.

You devalue the struggle by not voting. It's not just your right but your duty.

Music

Now my main exposure to main-streem music in the UK has come to me when driving around listening to Radio 1. This is not completely my choice as it turns out my car stereo is reluctant to tune into anything else.

Seriously it has a tape-deck but my girlfriend tried to use it and all it did was take the tape and refuse to eject or play it.

Now I've noticed a few things about Radio 1. My first problem is with the presenters.

Greg James. Who is this soft-faced, knowledgeless bad idea of a man shadow? Absolute prick. The other day I heard him actually say, (in reference to Drake), "I wish I was cool enough to be a gangster." Bang up job you're doing there BBC promoting the idea that being a gangster is cool. Seriously. I said this to someone and they said yeah but he doesn't really mean it, it's just a casual thing to say to fill some time. Just something to say.

Tbh I've been involved in a lot of different projects that have worked tirelessly to try and persuade kids against the idea that being a gangster is cool. Does no body remember the postcode wars? wasn't so cool then was it. In fact what are Radio 1 doing playing "daytime" music that promotes violence and gangterism as a positive thing.

Next up is Grimmy. I've listened to him over the past few months doing interviews with people where as far as I'm aware he's not even fucking listening. I think my favourite was when he had Kate Tempest on. She performed a 6 and a half minute poem to him. Litterally must have been just the 2 of them in a small box of a studio and Kate going at it hard for the duration. His responce when the poem finished was to say "ooerr, that was good wun't it."

Dry mate dry. As for the rest of the time he's constantly talking about his aftershave or what his friend Fifi said to him about his short shorts.

That'll do pig.

That'll do.

It's all just so inane and mindless.

Which leads me onto this mollycoddled Nick Knowles lookalike.

Example I met this arrogant child of an idiot a few months before I left. Our band supported him at a gig in Leicester. An over 14s gig. Which means that nobody over the age of 19 was there.

Durin his set he took his shirt off and physically grabbed young girls hands from the crowd making them touch his raw pastry body. Like an abusive puppeteer. Behaviour I'd describe as "suspect" at the very least.
My mate dared me to put my nose in his belly button while he was on stage so I walked over and gripped him by the hips like I was holding a playstation controller, and just pushed my nose in there. Horrible.
Then we went up stairs to his dressing room and stole his rider.

Now since I've been back I've had to suffer this prick on every TV panel show and almost constantly though background music everywhere.

The music would be bad enough but it's the TV stuff I hate the most. It's his actual personality. Ever show he's on he slags off someone else and moans that he's not famous enough despite having done thousands of gigs and shows.

I plan to do a blog at some point that is an analytical examination of lyrics in rappy pop songs and I'll start with him.

And of course Cher Lloyd's lacklustre club nothingness Swagger Jagger (not a real phrase).

This was by far the biggest piece of shit I've ever seen.

No coincidence then that the weekend it went to number one also signalled the start of 5 days of rioting across the UK.

Riots

The main thing I got from the rioting was a strange feeling that it was all being orchestrated by the police and media. Maybe that's just the years of hardened cynicism talking but the more I saw the more I was convinced it was being pushed for a reason.

Lets take what happened in Leicester as an example of this.

Now Leicester didn't really have rioting on any kind of scale that wasn't just a joke.

But what did happen was suspect.

It must have been on the 3rd day following a twitter rumour that I first saw on the account of Leicestershire police. Rumour was simple. Riots planned in Leicester city centre. This rumour was confirmed by a friend of mine with a Blackberry who said they'd received bbm's (whatever they are), saying the same thing.

Now if you've ever been to Leicester then you'll know there's not much to do most evenings and the potential promise of actual running street battles with the police intrigued a lot of people.

And so the crowds formed in the city centre. All watching the riot police who were spreading themselves around the clocktower. As time passed people wondered where the rioters were. Moments later they realised as the police began to push the onlookers back. "Oh right, WE must be the rioters" thought the crowd as they ran up Granby Street to smash in the windows of poundland before dispersing back to their homes.

Bit of a non-event everyone thought.

Everyone that was apart from the Leicestershire police who used the whole thing as a reason to institute new "right to disperse" legislation. The new law stating that the police now have the right to disperse groups of 2 or more people walking through the city centre.

That's right 2 people is a group.

Me and You = Group.

OK

OK then, Over a year since I said I was getting back on it I final post a blog. I'm saying nothing.
So anyway. I went to Latitude Festival week before last. Only for a night though. It was ok.
I was part of a crowd that booed a man off stage during a rap battle.
 I drank a Cider that had cost something close to Seven and a half pound, (cup included).

And I slept next to a hirsute Spaniard in the back of a van.
's'about it really.
2 days later I purchased a 50 percent share in that van for 50p under the condition that I take possession of it and find a buyer.

Her it is.

If you want to buy it let me know.

Any way last week I was in Croatia for Soundwave Festival.
I presented the main stage on the Friday daytime and then DJed on a boat party for 4 hours on the Sunday.

#Hardwork really.

Boat party was good
I downloaded the virtual DJ Ap, put on a captains hat and brushed my beard out.
Literally everyone was into it.

Like so into it.

Crazy really.

I just played Michael Jordan, Michael Jackson, MIA and Groovrider.
Imagine it.

The view from my room was pretty good.

That's where I lived

I met a couple of bands who were really good.

Amber States

And Scrimshire

Check them out, you might like them.


I'm off to Camp Bestival Tomorrow
and it should be good because I've got a load of duty free fags to shift.


Like I said if you know anyone looking.










Oh yeah,

and also since I last posted a blog I've had a child.
He was 6 months old today.
He's ace.

Long Time no blog.

Let me start by just saying hello.

OK

It's been a while since I added anything to here.
Yu see shortly after posting the last blog on here (by shortly I mean like 3 hours), I fell asleep with my balcony door open. When I woke up my Macbook was gone. No coming back.

That was like a year ago now. And I finally managed to save up enough money to get a new one like last month.

So I figured I'd get back on it.

A lot of shits gone down since we last spoke. To be honest it's too much to go into in any great detail at the minute.
You see there's this thing in Cambodia where you can't really say bad things about certain people while you are still in the country.
Added to this I'll be back in England in 9 days time and I'll be on at Latitude later that night.
So I don't want to fuck it up by saying something on the fucking internet that stops me getting clear of the departure lounge.

Know this though, there are some fucked up people in this country. Some domestic and a lot of forign.
You see this place is like a haven for sex-tourists. And their more weathered cousins the Sex-pat (N: ex-pat sex pest).
The streets are riddled with them. Oozing their grimy fingers across potentially underage and unquestionably impoverished girls.

Now some of these perverts are easy to spot. But some are undercover.
I worked at a university when I was here. Won't say the name because the name is also the name of the founder who is an actually megalamaniac who has stocked the shelves of the library with multiple 600 page books about him, by him.

One of them is basically a coffee table book containing photographs of parades in his honer and him shaking hands with what looks like the most inner-circle of the league of evil. (Except the only American is Mel Gibson).

Again more about that when I get back on British soil.

You know at one point the Cambodian government blocked access to blogspot because of a blog that said anti-government things.

So I'm saying nothing,
And am now worried that I already said to much.

Anyway there was this one guy at my work who I hate.
And I really mean HATE.

He's a Wrongun. And as I still have a week in the country I'm considering tracking him down and beating him.

He should not be allowed to be responsible for young people or children.
He was on a field trip that I was on and he borrowed the school camera on the night of the "Pool Party" (4 star hotel, I forgot to say my school was only for the richest kids).
Anyway me and a friend took the camera off him after an hour and a half and he'd taken 54 photos.
(we had 100 students and 2/3rds of these kids were boys)
80% of his pictures were of just girls. (There was also a girl in every other photo but none that were only of boys)
37 of them were of the same group of 4 friends. 15 year old girls.
This guy is like 46 and had been entrusted by these kids parents to make sure no halm would come to them.
He's a Wrongun.

Anyway. There will be more info as time passes.
Photos will come when my internet gets better.

Big yu selves up

Man doesn't need a home.

All man needs is a shelter,

We can condition him with food at the factory.

So it seems as if the future really is here.

No need for housing any more.

Just boxes.

This is the website incase you are interested.

Unfortunately this video doesn't have sound so I've attached this link so you can listed to Population control by Company Flow as you watch it.

Knife child

So I just went out side on a bit of a DVD hunt. (I was trying to find a film called Idiocracy).

Any way I was stood in one of my usual DVD shops on the river and as I'm looking some Book selling kid comes in trying to hit me up for some change.
Now I'm not into giving cash to kids in the street because I don't think its going to help anything.
So I tell him no good.
Anyway I thought he left so I carry on looking.
Turns out the kid ain't gone. he's right behind me and lets me know he's still there by shooting me repeatedly in the back of the legs with a pellet gun.

Naturally I ain't into it.
So I spin round and grab the gun from out of his hands.
The kids giving it "give me my gun back"
so I'm like "You need to apologise and until you do you don't get it back"
The kid's like "fuck you I kill you" And walks out the shop.

A few moments later he's back in brandishing a 6 inch kitchen knife "I kill you" goes this kid as he comes at me. I don't reckon he actually meant it, he was probably just giving it the big un but just to be safe twisted his arm up a little took the knife of him and choke slammed him on the floor.

Worst thing is the DVD shop ain't even got Idiocracy. Proper let down.

Lisa S

When I'm at home I like to do a lot of different things.

Two of these are watching TV and using the Internet.

I like to both at once because sometimes I'm waiting for something to load/stream/buffer and sometimes it's the adverts/commercials/nothing good's on.

So it kind of balances out.

Now out here both can be a bit difficult.

Internet is generally slow due to a lack of decent broadband.

And TV can be difficult because of the small number of TV channels that are in English.

Generally it comes down to a choice of 6

HBO

A version of the popular American Channel. The Wire, Heroes, etc.

Things you probably downloaded or bought the box set of.

Star World

The predominant force behind English language TV in South East Asia. American Idol, How I met your mother, America's next top model, etc. The 1st channel I ever saw that had the same presenter for everyone of its shows/links/adverts/idents.

The incredibly hard working Lisa S.

The DVD Channel

Cambodia's only feature in my regular channel hopping. Basically this channel broadcasts a selection of the latest Pirate DVDs.

DVDs that were most likely purchased in one of the shops on the riverside.

Star Movies

That's right same company as before. This time all movies and movie related shows. Thing is though once again all the shows/adverts/idents hosted by Lisa S.

AXN & MAX

Actually 2 completely different channels. But they are next to each other numerically and I can never remember which shows are on which.

These 2 just fill in the blanks left by Star World and HBO. Total Wipeout, House, So you think you can dance, etc.

V

Music channel playing alternating videos of the same 3 Korean Girl Bands with the occasional Boy Band to keep it interesting. Never really stay on this channel long. Only included it here because once again all the links/shows/adverts/idents courtesy of Lisa S.

So what you might notice is that 50% of my TV watching potentially involves Lisa S.

Now before I came here I had never heard of her and I wanted to make a blog about her for people back home to read.

and when I started this blog it was originally gunna be about how lackluster she is sometimes and how I don't understand why the use her so much because she's not really that good.

But then I discovered something.

Lisa S isn't on the Internet.

Well at least not like she is on TV.

it is infact surprisingly difficult to find a picture of Lisa S on the Internet.

This freaked me out. I mean I know not everbody's got pictures of them on the Internet. My Nan for example.

But I'm also pretty sure that my Nan doesn't present 68 simultaneous hours of TV 7 days a week.

And that's when I realised the inescapable truth.

Lisa S is obviously a registered trademark of Star World.

Maybe even more than that. Maybe it's much more sinister.

Maybe Lisa S has somehow been put in the position where by she is no longer an employee of Star World's but she is now infact their property.

There are no pictures of her on the Internet because Star World's legal team made them all disappear.

And if they are in fact that powerful, just imagine what they could do to my web-presence.

Due to this inescapable fact I'm not actually going to put the one picture of Lisa S I found. (Actually unable to view the page it came from without "registering" and to be fair I just don't like the word.) Here's a link

I'm genuinely a little bit worried that what I say is the true so if you don't hear from me for a wile then maybe they got to me too.

For now I'm just gunna put Star World on. To see if Lisa S is trying to call for help with her eyes.

Babore Chigai

Due to the fact that my job and my house are actually in very different places, I am forced to go outside at least twice a day, (more if it is one of the days when I also need to eat food).

Now this in itself doesn't seem like such a problem.

Although the additional factors attributed from living in one of the worlds dustiest sun traps, as well as owning the smallest petrol powered motorbike ever invented by man, do tend to make it slightly more of a struggle.

Now one thing that I will recommend to anyone who is planning to spend any amount of time on the road is decent eye protection.

Partly for the sun, after all squinting can severely lower your ability to see shit and as the majority of the local population seem to have no great attachment to signaling or lane discipline this can be problematic.

But the eye protection is also useful for trying to cut down on the amount of dust that's going directly into your eyes as your driving.

See in the west we are well aware that if you get your eyes full of dust this might be the cause of an eye problem. The same is not necessarily true out here.

See the other day for for whatever reason I had to go outside. In doing so had forgotten to put my sunglasses over my face before starting out on whatever arduous journey I had decided to undertake.

Needless to say upon my return as I was sat at my work desk inspecting my reflection in the permanent sleeping computer screen that occupied about 60% of my desk, I realised I might have a problem. Or at least the tell tail warning signs of a future problem that would probably come to light at some point in the next few days.

Bad news.

Now back home I'd have referred to it as a sty.

Out here it has another name. A name that indicates the cause but not the cure.

Babore Chigai.

That's what the Chemist told me.

The direct translation means Stares at Dogs.

"You watch Chigai boom boom?"

enquired the chemist.

Apparently the reason I had this problem with my eye was because at some point in the recent past I must have watched 2 dogs having sex.

I refuted the Chemists assertion but did have to admit to the fact that several days prior when I'd been enjoying some down time at Wat Phnom I had indeed seen 2 small furry animals making the beast with two backs.

Not dogs though, Monkeys.

And to be fair I imagine that if you'd seen these hairy little bastards going at it hammer and tongue then you also would have cast an inquisitive eye over them.

(I mean their hands look like people hands.)

The Chemist took this as conclusive proof and gave me a small bottle of what I can only assume were her own tears.

Accompanied by instructions to drizzle the viscus liquid into my own eye as and when I see fit.

The most important thing was that under no circumstance should I watch any more animals having sex.

The way I see it is that the Chemist is not the boss of me and what I do in my spare time is none of her business.

On a related note the university I work for has decided to start monitoring Internet downloads as of Monday.

Flash walk cycles.

Man

Woman

Skype

Now I Know what you're thinking.

How can I be performing at the Albany when I'm supposed to be in Cambodia?

Two words....

Skype Bee-atch!!

Yeah check it out, Polarbear dune booked me for a gig where by I'm on skype.

I actually appeared as an enormous disembodied head on a big screen at the back of the stage.

this is what I could see.

See the original plan was that I'd be performing live from the screen.

This week (thanks to the paranoia associated with live Internet links) that plan changed. It became me introducing videos of me performing that I had previously emailed to Polar.

Due to the time difference the show started at 2.30am my time and ended for me just after 5.

Apparently my big face was on the screen during all the other acts.

I personally might have found that a bit distracting if it had been the other way around.

(Mainly because I didn't realise that was what was happening so I was just eating biscuits, drinking coffee and smoking through out).

By the end of the gig I was at least partially delusional.

At on point I forgot I was not actually there. At another point I forgot that what I was seeing was actually live. Thousands of miles away.

I really liked the way it blurred the lines of reality for me and I think this might be how I perform from now on.

Even if I'm in the place where I'm supposed to be performing I still want to do it through my computer. Sat in a dressing room eating blueberry dueberrys while my enormous head floats over all on stage.

Big Berko is watching you, pay no attention to the man behind the curtain.

Call of the wild.

Now have you ever seen that “March of the Penguins” film?

I’ve not seen it, but I think I get the gist of what it's about.

I heard it’s basically a documentary about how every year this group of penguins, (in fact lets say that they’re Emperor Penguins).

How every year these Emperor Penguins march all the way across (Lets say Thousands), thousands of miles of frozen Arctic (possibly Antarctic, never can remember), Tundra to the same place, (possibly some kind of nesting/breading ground).

Now they make the same journey each year and every one of them knows where to go because of some built in inner calling that directs them back to where they were born (/conceived).*

I think Turtles and salmon do it to, and also that frogs might do it as well. But in their case the breading ground is the pond they were born in and the thousand miles of tundra is replaced with a brand-new 3-lane bypass somewhere near Birmingham. But the basic thing is the same.

The point I’m trying to get out is that for some wild creatures part of their yearly routine is a life-threatening journey across treacherous landscapes to return to the place they were born. They don’t actually have any real choice in the mater; it’s just in their nature.

(I may well have gotten a lot of my facts wrong but I’m writing this somewhere sans Internet connection and I very much doubt I’m gunna check my facts in the time between now and when I publish this tomorrow. But for the sake of this blog just take what I’ve said thus far as true regardless of its factual accuracy).

Any way here’s the thing.

At present something in my subconscious keeps telling me that what I should be doing right now is pushing all my most brightly coloured clothes into a rucksack, pulling my tent from the crawl space it’s spent the winter hibernating in, finding myself a van, buying some “supplies” and getting ready to spend at least 12-46 hours a week on the road.

Chasing down and riding on the back of that most magical, transient, shape-shifting beast of a place.

That beautifully malevolent paradise of contradiction. That place where we can all die and be reborn in the same instant; I am of course talking about the festival.

See I personally harbour the idea that all festivals are in fact manifestations of the same powerful creature.

In fact I’d go as far as to say that it would be naive not to realise that the phenomena we know as “Festival” (from the Latin festivus) is very much a sentient being. An all-powerful host upon whose glorious undulating teats we suckle yearly, quenching our thirst for fun and adventure.

A beast that should be both loved and feared, a beast that demands to be respected.

Oh Festivus can turn a beggar to a king in the blink of an eye.

It will reduce normally rational men to the very edge of mindlessness.

Festivus can be your provider or it can be your undoing.

I first met this beast when it took the form of Glastonbury 1998.

Long story short,

0 tickets + £32 + (1 x 2-man tent) % (5 x 18/19 year old guys)
% 4 days of near solid rain.

Needless to say, not the best one.

Although it was the first time I’d heard 2 very familiar phrases

1. “Imagine if everywhere was like this”

2. “Why don’t we just live here?”

I’m pretty sure that anybody who has ever been to any reincarnation of Glastonbury has at some point uttered one if not both of these 2 phrases.

Of course by the Sunday we have all no doubt realised why we don’t live here and imagining a world where everywhere is like this is no longer something we want to realistically consider.

For me Glastonbury is always the start. The Festival big bang, the moment the creature begins its’ existence.

Glastonbury is boot camp for the rest of the summer. It trains you for what’s about to come. It shows you the best and worst sides of festivus, it teaches you to walk.

Oh how it teaches you to walk.

Back in 1998 you had the added adventure of not actually needing a ticket.

Back then it was all about getting in for free be it via a Scouser’s rabbit hole or by a Bristolian’s ladder. All you had to do is get past the fence and the world was your oyster.

I had a short hiatus from festivaling the year they introduced the alleged “super fence” around Glastonbury.

By this time several seasons had passed since my first encounter with festival. It had been responsible for some of the best and worst experiences I’d ever had.

But I just lacked the organisational skills or self-motivation to actually go about purchasing a ticket.

It wasn’t until 2005 that I climbed back onto the horse. Glastonbury again. This time (thanks to the organisational skills and self-motivation of my brother/co-performer,) I was performing.
For me this was very much the start of something. Although I did notice that the “super fence” looked exactly how I remembered the old fence to look.




*Turns out they were Emperor Penguins going thousands of miles to their breading grounds, in Antarctica. Swings and roundabouts really.

Dining with the Devil.

So it's been a little wile since I tasted this particular poison.

As I was in an actual city over the weekend I thought I might as well push the boat out and shave a few years of my life.

Back on the Crackky-D's. After 6 months of being clean.

To be honest my taste-buds weren't really that into it.

My digestive system was even less impressed.

in and out of KL.

Now last summer over the course of the festival season I was pretty busy.
What this meant was that quite often I'd arrive at the place I was performing litterally moments before I was due to step out on stage.
I wasn't the only one.

I know Kate Tempest, Ross Sutherland, Inua Ellems, Jamie Woon and Joshua Idehen (to name but a few) were all in the same boat.

Well if you are still in England then you must have realised, Summer is back, and this time it's personal.

The reason I know this because one of my sisters sent me an email telling me how it was so hot she couldn't even go outside.
Apparently it was like 25 degrees C in Leicester.
Seeing as how I set my air-con at around 20 I wasn't really that impressed but it's all relitive eh.

Anyway what with the arrival of summer and with poetry being the new rock-n-roll an all,

I figured I'd do a gig.
not just a gig; but a far away gig.
One where I'd inevitably be cutting it close.

So here it is, performing in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia.
Flying out from Phnom Penh 4.45 saturday
coming home 2.55 Sunday Malaysian time, (1 hour in front).
21 hours total.

Having lived in Cambodia for the last 6 months KL felt like I'd arrived in the future.
All be it a strangely malign future who's chief arcatect was a 16 year old Gun-Dam robot enthusiast with an obsesive desire to create a searies of Urbainian-style satalite cities scattered across an intensly confusing network of vast, sprawling, seemingly endless super high-ways.

The gig was the first monthly slam at Map. Anyone living in or going to KL would do well to check it out.
Elaine Foster runs it and it's a very possitive night in an amazing space.

After the gig I went out for a drink with some of those in attendance. We went to a place called Boathouse that felt like it was in Bristol but looked exactly like the room in Warrior King where they eat the endangered animals.
I kept expecting Tony Jar to kick some one through the wall screaming, "Where are my elephants?"
unfortunatly that didn't happen.

pretty pricey an all.
In fact if you're sick of having all that money in your pocket then I recomend going out for a drink in KL.
I think it worked out about 18 Ringit per beer.
If US$1= about 3.23RM you can do the maths eh.

Here's a little video I made so you can see what I did.
Mostley just motorbikes, taxis and airoplanes, oh and one poem.




I'm back in Phnom Penh now that due to it's geography is physically 1 hour behind KL
and due to it's history is Artistically 20 years behind the rest of the world.

Time to get cracking on that renaissance.

Motorbike Tours (001)

So When you are driving around Phnom Penh you need to know the rules of the road.

Out here there's no insurance.

The rule of thumb is if you crash into someone else then you have to pay.

it means that every body looks out for what's in front of them and we al get on ok.

Same as walking though a large crowd of people.

It just flows.

Here's an example.

This is my drive home from work last wednesday afternoon.

More broken transport

Cost me $7.

Broke after 10 days.

Fixed again for one Dollaar.

Akun Bong.

Return of the Mo-cap

I found this on you-tube.
That's me.

This is what it came from.
MO-Cap Mo-Fo

Bag of mixed Cans (Cambo Style)

Broken Transport

Fork-tailed Ghecko

Asian gig number Moi.

So I final decided to break my vowel of silence and once again this weekend I managed to fulfill my obligated time on stage.

That's right every body had to shut up and listen to me Talking.

I was part of an event that saw the opening of Java Arts brand new exhibition space "J GALLERY."

Also on the bill were,

Sound Artist and Musician
David Gunn

and

Contemporary Cambodian Performance Artist.

Leang Seckon

The whole thing was organised by a lovely woman called Dana. She started the Gallery several years ago and has worked hard to try and bring contemporary Art to Phnom Penh.

And so begins my part in the Renaissance.

Slight stumbling block for me manifested itself in the form of a group of 4 or 5 kids who's combined age barley scratched the 40's.

Once again I was the man responsible for teaching kids "exciting new words."

Although to be fair I did warn the parents and suggested they cover their ears.

I also realised that a lot of the English speaking crowd were in fact Australian/American so a lot of my regional references were lost in translation.

1 page from a screenplay I might write.