The Continuing Bullshit Of Offline

March 1st, 2008 | mobilesignals

So the repair shop says “call back in 48 hours while we work our last-ditch effort.” So I call back today, 48 hours later. The repair shops says “um…the boss is out. Call back tomorrow?”
Annoying. But I don’t care, because I have just uncovered my long-lost copy of ODIN by Julian Cope. ODIN is “a simultaneously-synthesized parallel-harmonic Breathing Meditation of 73 minutes and 45 seconds’ duration.” Released on Head Heritage in 2000, it’s one of the most inspirational pieces of music in my collection. (And one day I’ll bore everyone to tears with my specific reason for keeping a CD collection.) Head Heritage (co.uk – google it) may still have copies, but check Amazon, your local one and co.uk, for it if they don’t. It’s one massive circular-breathing vocal mantra with Mellotron and other electronically-imported atmospherics, labeled as a “meditation on Silbury and Waden Hill” — a consideration and evocation of the dramas and mysteries of the ancient English landscape. It’s one of those things I can get absolutely lost in, and emerge from with my thinking retuned.
Sent by email from Nokia 810, of course.


The Offline Strikes Back

February 29th, 2008 | mobilesignals

Haven´t even heard from the computer shop today. I suspect my computer lays in a shallow grave in their back garden, like a dead rabbit. This serves only as a reminder to all that I remain offline and desktopless, and am posting this via email from a phone.

I am also rather concerned about the sudden urge, half an hour ago, to alphabetise my cd collection. If I don’t get my computer back soon, I will clearly be found constructing rows of tiny houses out of toenail clippings, earwax and scrote-hair in the very near future.

I just thought of names for the houses. I must go now.


The Continuing Story Of Offline

February 28th, 2008 | mobilesignals

Well, the Nokia/Maemo boys and girls will be delighted to hear that I managed to write an entire premise document on the 810 and got it sent off via a bluetooth tether to a N95. My eyeballs are completely shot. Also managed to get some FREAKANGELS pages written — luckily, I´m holding a lot of that in my head right now. I would kill for an open wifi spot around here someplace, though.
Dusted off an old CD player, and am listening to the first CocoRosie album while finding myself doing odd things like paging through a book of Bauhaus design, rediscovering the art of Blue Note sleeves (I love old sleeve design, and Blue Note has always been a favourite. Sleeve notes kind of died out before my time — can you miss something that was gone before you knew about it?) And re-reading Tarkovsky´s SCULPTING IN TIME, which is useful not only for some insight into his method, but also his insight into others, like the way Bergman uses sound. Which I´m sort of picking around at the same time as I pick around my responses to The Baroque Cycle (and baroque art in general) and THE BLACK DOSSIER, which I´m coming to see as baroque in many ways. Baroque can be characterised, after all, as the grandiose and insanely detailed display and exercise of complete control over one´s art. It is to say See, here, I have power over base matter. Can you think of a better description of BLACK DOSSIER? Matter doesn´t get much more base than the mire of British culture he dredges out, and yet, in vast and intricate detail, he gets an alternate history out of it. The book interests me in lots of ways, not least because it doesn´t quite work for me. Like Eddie Campbell´s FATE OF THE ARTIST, even books you find to be artistic failures are instructive when performed by savants of the medium.
Sent by email, naturally. Good night.


The Further Adventures Of Offline

February 28th, 2008 | mobilesignals

Well, I didn´t get hit by the earthquake. The computer shop has decided to try one more last-ditch recovery effort. Note: if your OS fails to launch, and tech support has you try to boot from the resources CD — don´t. That´s what´s foiled a complete data recovery.
I almost told them to just wipe the machine and bring it back, but the bit´s between their teeth now and they´re refusing to give up, bless ´em. The downside is that I won’t get the machine back until Friday at best.
So I´m writing here via email for the foreseeable. Which I find I am actually quite liking. Twitter is currently working via the handheld, although, with Brian Reed apparently hellbent on giving us a minute-to-minute report on the weather in whatever shithole he lives in, I expect to hit the 250 texts/week limit any moment now.


And Even More Still Offline

February 27th, 2008 | mobilesignals

So it turns out that one of the things tech support had me try may have completely bollocksed the computer, and any kind of data recovery is unlikely at this point (as noted earlier, my backups had failed too). I find myself less upset about this than I expected. I´ve lost a music collection, of course, and some current work (all the notes for the graphic novella I´m to start writing next week, which is a bugger)… But I appear to be able to muster little more than mild annoyance or minor disappointment, and that only at a few things. My research material is largely preserved, here and at delicious, as are my photos.
Although life would have been hugely more convenient without this happening, I´m wondering if I haven´t been done a bit of a favour. A wiped computer, for me, is not unlike being presented with a clean slate for thinking. All previous ideas erased. Not necessarily a bad thing, on the occasion of your fortieth birthday. Not bad at all.
(Oh, and on top of everything else, I got knocked flat Monday by what was either a massive allergy attack or a 24-hr lungfoam infection. Which meant I finally got to finish reading the last of Neal Stephenson´s Baroque Cycle. I´d never normally recommend you read a 3000-page work, but the Cycle is just a towering piece of work, and I think you should read it before you die. A hundred pages from the end, I got that terrible longing sadness, the one that comes when you realise youŕe near the end of something and you´ĺl never have the joy of reading this in the same way again.)
Also, with the right keyboard, this Nokia 810 is a fucking joy to write on.
Sent from email, obv.