Outing oneself.

Today saw the Christmas holidays end and a brief return to school before we were all eventually allowed home due to the weather. Today also saw me in effect, 'joining' The Out Campaign; wherein participants simply brand themselves with an ironic scarlet 'A' on a badge for example. I placed mine on my school blazer. It's a harmless enough device, it's subtle, it's not really an advertisement, and my logic behind was simply this, "If I am branded as a *insert tag* due to this school blazer(there is a Biblical quote on it), then surely there is nothing wrong or crass in wearing a badge to earmark my disagreement with the labeling brought by this blazer." [Of course I could just not wear the blazer, but that would 1) miss the point, it's a school uniform, and 2) be very very cold]. I also made it a point to not, in effect, shove it in people's faces, or walk up and declare the meaning of my new accessory. Though I was not going to attempt to hide it. I will also briefly give some background to the scarlet A idea. It is in fact taken from American novelist Nathaniel Hawthorne. In his book The Scarlet Letter, a woman is forced to wear a scarlet 'A' across her chest for life to represent the adultery she has committed. So in effect the 'A' symbol is a sign of religious oppression, not simply as the declaration of the lack of belief in the supernatural. Which I think is a wonderful meaning to have. I also recommend this book to anyone as it is fantastic.

My point with writing this is not really so as to defend myself, as I don't feel I have done anything to defend myself against, but more so as to give comparisons where they are fitting, and present the logic of why it is not provocative or trouble-seeking to wear such an accessory. Note, I would not be doing this if I did not feel, if not hostility, then certainly an uneasy feeling in response to the badge. I got that feeling that people were saying, "What's the fucking point." I submit though, that they are missing the point by asking such a question.

So, is there anything wrong with wearing things that will label yourself to others with a glance? Does this portray an ego-centric solipsism wherein said person simply wants to garner attention and stir the pot with regards this labeling? There is no doubting, that this can be the case. Wearing a Celtic top in certain parts of Belfast is, more often than not, a commitment to a particular Christian sect, a political affiliation, and seemingly lastly, an affirmation of support to the particular Glasgow team. Is there anything fundamentally wrong with this provocative clothe wearing then? For me, I believe it depends on the case. Should this person be actually able to argue/present the case for reasons why 1)they are a part of this Christian sect or 2)they agree with a certain political goal, then why shouldn't they be allowed to wear it? (I am not listing 'argue reasons why you support the team' as a needed accessory, as it is both linked with the other two, and is off the point). Whatever risks are involved, are ones that they will be more than aware of, so should this be the case, let them wear it. It only affects those who let them affect it. Similarly, wearing a crucifix around your neck is a form of branding, the same rules apply here. Wearing a badge with Obama on it saying, "Change," is a form of branding, the same rules apply here. Wearing a Che Guevara top is more a form of branding than people realise, the same rules apply here. As can be seen, there are a plethora of examples. It applies to such a huge variety of our discourse; religion, politics, social issues, football(or any sport) and so on. Either you allow them all or you allow none. That is to say, if one person can wear a crucifix, then where does the logic follow that a badge is an attention seeking thing to wear? It seems, that the fact that I(and in fact a couple of my good friends, shout to out Ciáran here, who has a badge of his own, I don't think anyone will disagree with me here when I say simply, that Ciáran is a buck) am in the minority in the grander scale, that I am simply being contrarian and an attention seeker for adopting an accessory. I will make clear again the idea that it is subtle, and my idea is that I will only discuss it if asked.

Contradictory though it may seem, I felt the desire to lay out this brief particular piece of writing.

Godspeed You! Black Emperor - Lift Your Skinny Fists Like Antennas to Heaven, Review

This is one of those albums that I have always wanted to write something about. Released in the latter part of 2000, it for me is without doubt the best album I have ever heard. Subjective a point though that may be, I struggle to see some of the recent lists of favourite/best albums of the noughties that do not even give this group a look in.

For those of you who may not know the band(I will call them GYBE), they are one of the most prominent and critically acclaimed post rock bands in history. Post rock certainly gets a lot of stick for itself, accusations of pretense and over-complicating their style, or even trying too hard to be different, are all commonplace. GYBE have an orchestral feel, added to by virtue of their large number(roughly nine band members) and the inclusion of a type of free jazz, and without doubt hints of chamber music. This classical approach, twisted with long compositions, rock instrumentation, (at times) psychedelic approach, intricate and intelligent progression, stripped up and stripped down variations, and most importantly, fine musicianship, for me make this record incontestable and unmatched, certainly in the post-rock circuit. I will briefly mention a two other post rock bands that come to my head to try and solidify my point. God is an Astronaut are certainly my favourite of all the contemporary offerings, and in some ways can even be labelled 'generic' post rock for their lack of experimentation within the boundaries of the genre, but despite this rather crude accusation they still remain(for me) one of the best groups doing it for the moment, their first and most recent albums standing out by a country mile each for me. (As a side note, look them up on YouTube, the best example I can give is 'Fragile' - a song by them, they play video pieces when they play live I suppose, to kind of fill the lyricless void, and it does a lot more than that).

Whilst they are a brilliant band, God is an Astronaut have not been able to reach the sort of musical, orchestral peaks that GYBE on their third offering. I will ensure brevity only referencing one more example, Mogwai(I wanted to talk about Meanwhile, Back in Communist Russia... but I only have one of their albums as of yet). Now, this band is a great pioneer of attempting to push this post rock genre into any sort of mainstream. I will only say that Mogwai have failed to reproduce the same sort of material that they offered on their debut, and on Rock Action, on a consistent basis. Which means an awful lot in a genre where many often accuse the proponents of lengthy, boring, bland instrumental pieces.

You can either hear this album, and hear a lot of white noise, clumsily included speeches, loose progression that springs up and down out of nowhere, and conclude your pre-garnered suppositions of the genre. Though it does take a sort of commitment to listen to this band. The first seven minutes of the second track 'Static' seem to be just rumbling along with no clear direction, until an incredible monologue is delivered. The meaning of which we cannot be sure, GYBE are not the type of band to give any clues, "There will be terror under this day of night, there will be a song of jubilee waiting for your King, there will be nothing you will be looking for in this world, except for your God. This is all a dream, a dream in death. "

Now I will not attempt to play simply on the sound scope I am so impressed with in this album. It is true that GYBE fill a lot of void with monologues which include ranting leftish rhetoric about, "the way things used to be," or about rebelling against authority. It, for me, is a loose, inaccurate, almost sloppy political calling. But to focus on it too much would be to miss the point I believe. If I am to sum up the musical offering of this I will string a pretentious sounding sentence together like this; this work is painfully beautiful, I know of no other band who can combine fascinating, chaotic, buzzing, shoe gaze inspired crescendos, combine these with lulled and haunting melodies with a sonic scope that was beyond its time, and most importantly, build a bridge between the two for an entire album. This album is absolutely essential for all, as it approaches its ten year anniversary.

RATING: 10/10

Book Recommendation: All Quiet on the Western Front

It seems to have become the custom for me to guiltily apply time to this, customarily beginning with an apology to my admittedly singular audience(sup Dan), and add a list of things which prevented any sort of writing. Though it seems all those who are not committed to blogging follow this selfsame pattern, and who am I to buck a trend.

Going to do something I had not considered doing before, and that is, as the title suggestively pre-empts, recommend a book. The book is called All Quiet on the Western Front by a German man named Erich Maria Remarque. It is a novel of sorts, I do not think justice is done by calling it so, as it is a type of loose, real-life chronicling of the then 19 year old author during his experiences during the Great War of the early 20th Century. Him and a group of schoolmates have been convinced of the virtuousness of the war and signed up before conscription was enforced by their teacher(Kantorek is the teacher who convinced them, conscription was not enforced by their teacher..) - he convinced them with tales of the glory of war, the majesty in defending one's country and Kaiser, and so on. Of course, in a state of warfare, these are not the emotions that any thinking person can honestly maintain, neither subjectively nor objectively. It seems that in trench warfare, adolescent arbitrary patriotism and political idealism may initially convince, but should that same person take a step back, the reality hits hard - as is clear at certain points when the German soldiers give thoughts to their fellow teen French and Russian enemies, and how wars are fought in agreements(or rather, disagreements) by men so far detached from them that the ones to whom they are pointing their guns, and vice versa, are only so by virtue of this same type of pressure to love one's country and be prepared to die for grass and a particular arrangement of colours on a flag. "For us lads of eighteen they ought to have been mediators and guides to the world of maturity . . . to the future . . . in our hearts we trusted them. The idea of authority, which they represented, was associated in our minds with a greater insight and a more humane wisdom. But the first death we saw shattered this belief. We had to recognize that our generation was more to be trusted than theirs. . . . The first bombardment showed us our mistake, and under it the world as they had taught it to us broke in pieces." It is a beautifully written book, indeed Remarque was a sort of amateur poet and playwright in his teenage years pre-WW1, and his references to classical literature and philosophy at various points are a touching way in which this adolescent mindset of reading everything he could get his hands on has had a severe impact on both his outlook and the way he develops language.

Gorish images are not simply alluded to in passing amidst a sea of dialogue and exploration of war or trench conditions, they make some of the most exciting and horrifying sequences in the book. "Why do they never tell us that you are poor devils like us, that your mothers are just as anxious as ours, and that we have the same fear of death, and the same dying and the same agony—Forgive me, comrade; how could you be my enemy?" - Sequences such as this may seem cliché when I cherry-pick-quote them, but for two reasons they are not. The first being Remarque's fine ability to harness his language in an alluring and seductive manner, and the second being that Remarque was one of the first people who wrote a novel concerning global conflict, he in fact is one of the founders of such language. The title is a much-referenced phrase in contemporary society, but is so because of this book.

To go slightly beyond the literal events of the book, it is also a book of mental struggle. When Remarque writes, "We are none of us more than twenty years old. But young? That is long ago. We are old folk." He may seem naive, but that is one thing which he is certainly not. Paul Bäumer(what Remarque named the protagonist) goes through a sequence of events which I can only say make you fear for his life despite the fact that you're only on page 40 and know you have well over half of the book to go. Such are his lucid and compelling descriptions of the situations, somehow making you ambivalently want him to engage in more combat so as to read his depictions of them, but simultaneously wanting him to escape from the hellish reality. He surmises that whether he makes it out of the war does not really matter, the older soldiers have a lives to return to, and the younger children at home know nothing of it, his generation are caught in a flux, an abyss, that will consume them either during the war, or for the rest of their lives after it. It is a heartfelt and honest conclusion made in a book of which I have still given away nothing of its plot nor its events. "Let the months and years come, they can take nothing from me, they can take nothing more. I am so alone, and so without hope that I can confront them without fear. The life that has borne me through these years is still in my hands and my eyes. Whether I have subdued it, I know not. But so long as it is there it will seek its own way out, heedless of the will that is within me."

I find it impossible to rate a book in the same way you can an album, but I implore you(sup Dan) to seek and find this book if you have not already enjoyed it. A compelling and essential read, if I can be terse enough to assume the authority to say such a thing.