Between the end of Insomnium’s set and the start of the headliner’s, I went off to talk to a few of the people I know in the crowd - ironlord, jellybearwhore, and a few Leicester people headed up by archenemy888. It’s while I was standing at the bottom of the stairs speaking to the latter that what will for evermore be known as The Bird Incident occurred.

( Cut for Loquaciousness: The Bird Incident )

Quote of the Day:
“… a heartless creature is a loveless creature, and a loveless creature is a beast. To be a beast is perhaps bearable, although the man who has become one will surely pay hell’s own price in the end.”
- Stephen King, The Drawing of the Three

Current Mood: Long-winded, apparently
Current Music: Isis - 'Hall of the Dead'

I timed my arrival at the gig to perfection, missing the local bands and walking in pretty much just as Omnium Gatherum took the stage. They were good, better than I was expecting, and noticeably improved on when I saw them supporting Dark Tranquillity in the Basement. Although I was disappointed that they didn’t play the beautiful ‘Greeneyes’ from the most recent album, they did include ‘No Breaking Point’ and ‘The Return’, which almost made up for it. I was the only person dancing at the start of their set, but I most certainly wasn’t by the end. I was especially pleased and amused by the two young lads in Bloodstock T-shirts to my right, who were headbanging in time with me and attempting to take pictures of themselves while they were doing so. Aww.

Insomnium came on what seemed like five minutes later, in possibly the quickest between-band changeover I have ever seen – I think all three bands were sharing gear – launched straight into the opening one-two of ‘Equivalence’ and ‘Down With the Sun’ from new album Across the Dark and the room, which had filled up nicely by now, erupted into synchronised headbanging. Every single member of the band, first four rows of the audience, all whipping their hair up and down in time. It looked awesome.

I was worried that the majority of the audience would only be there for the headliners and that Insomnium would be confronted with a wall of apathy, but I was thoroughly pleased to be wrong – if anything, most of the punters seemed to be there for them. At first it seemed like the crowd were most interested by tracks like ‘The Killjoy’ from Above the Weeping World, but I think the song that got the single biggest reaction all night was probably Across the Dark’s obvious single ‘As the Last Wave Broke’. It’s nice for me to be able to see a band I like in their ascendancy for a change.

Quote of the Day:
“I remember Macclesfield Leisure Centre in 1983. I was playing drums on ‘Blue Monday’, and in the corner of my eye I could see this kid pucker up and lauch the biggest green ‘un I’ve ever seen, and it landed on my knee. I thought, ‘You dirty fucker’… the next song was ‘Age of Consent’, which started with the bass, so I got into my stance and started playing. The kid started smiling, it must have been one of his favourite songs, so I smiled at him, finished the riff and then hit him over the head with the fucking headstock. He went down like a fucking kipper with the four pegs in his forehead. As he went down and I pulled the bass back, the fucking headstock fell off. It cost me £150, but it was worth every penny. It was fucking hilarious, a very satisfying audience participation moment. One of New Order’s greatest moments.”
- Peter Hook, bassist (among other things) with New Order

Current Mood: Laid back
Current Music: Scar Symmetry - 'Ascension Chamber'

Other than damned inconvenience, the demonstration/protest/riot/delete as applicable didn’t really effect my day. I collected by beloved guitar and ferried it over to the new place, and I was slightly embarrassed by how much better I felt to have it on the premises with me.

The evening saw an NTU RockSoc trip up to Sheffield Corporation. I wasn’t much inspired by the music or the attitude of the local wankers (telling me to cheer up is pretty much the fastest way to piss me off after heightism). I recall there being no fewer than six separate instances where I had to tell mouthy local strangers to piss off. That said, I do always like going north (I’m never the oldest nor the ugliest punter on the premises) and since there’s a strange timeslip effect whereby the further up the country you travel the further back in time you go, Corporation is appropriately dark, loud and free of emos – Like Clubs Used To Be. Hah.

The music wasn’t terribly inspiring on this occasion, more’s the pity, but unlike most trips to other cities, I fell in with a couple of awesome randoms (Kyler and Becky, this means you, in the unlikely event that you’re reading this) that I met and they managed to keep me entertained to the point whereby the night seemed to vanish in short order. I bailed on the club just shy of half an hour before the coach was due to leave, and went on a solo mission to find the awesome takeaway that yourapocalypse and I discovered the last time we were in Sheffield together. I was impressed by my own inherent sense of direction: My feet led me straight to the place, no deviations, no wanders, and I proceeded to stuff my face with some exceedingly pleasant fish and chips.

I had a bit of a lie-in on Sunday morning; more than I expected, less than I was worried I might. I made my way back to John Lewis, collected the rest of my lampshades, returned home and hung them. They look very nice. Then I went back to Ikea, and got a two-draw bedside cabinet to match the chest of drawers in my room. It’s black, heavy and utilitarian. I lugged it home on the bus (I really don’t envy poor baybee_bat having to travel on that fucking thing regularly, especially at night) and got stuck into assembling it before I had to set off for the gig.

Quote of the Day:
“It probably didn’t matter, but he liked loose ends no more than he liked crooked pictures hanging on walls.”
- Stephen King, Wolves of the Calla

Current Mood: Relaxed
Current Music: Insomnium - 'Under the Plaintive Sky'

‘So,’ I thought, ‘I need a hard copy of this email. No massive deal – I’ll pop over to the central library on Angel Row and use their printers to run one off. Quicker and cheaper than trying to find the right inks and so forth.’

Off I went, gradually building my annoyance at the multitudes of stupid people at the Midwinter Festival of Sheep-like Retardery brings out of the woodwork. Nothing overly unusual there, then. Well, not until I got to Market Square and realised that I’d managed to do all of this on the day when the English Defence League (fascists, apparently, too many of whom were looking for a fight) were marching, and Unite Against Fascism (crusties, teenagers and Guardian readers, mostly, some of whom may have thought they were looking for a fight) turned up to demonstrate against them. Oh, and there apparently had been a parade earlier in the day by one of the Army regiments returned from Foreign Parts. And there was a football match on as well. I thought that poor old Nottingham Police (who can barely maintain order in the city centre on a Friday night, let alone in the middle of a riot in the making) might be a bit stretched, so I was unsurprised to see a least three closed-sided vans in Leicestershire Police colours, with “Tactical Unit” on the side. I’d been wondering if Nottinghamshire Police would be stretched enough to draft in reinforcements.

I went into the library and discharged my business there, and while I was so engaged I happened to glance out of a window on the stairwell and I saw at least four mounted police trotting in formation along Maid Marian Way. I like horses. They always trigger a childlike “Yay, horses!” reaction in me; racial memory of a cross-species bond older than human history, perhaps. En route to the end of St. James’s Street, I would guess, from what other people have said. I heard rumours there was fighting there, and the mounted units were used to break it up. This filled my head with images of a cavalry charge down St. James’s Street against skinheads, crusties and football hooligans, which (if it happened) would have been the most awesome thing to happen in Nottingham for centuries. A shame they don’t issue the police with lances.

After the library, I had intended to dart across the square and pop back to the old place in Sneinton to do a spot of cleaning and rescue my guitar, but I found my route blocked by a line of several hundred clarts with placards and had to take a detour around the other side of the Counting House. In case the tone of the above leaves you in any doubt, I know exactly which side I was rooting for in the whole tiresome UAF versus the EDL thing: The police. I dislike the fact that these people feel the need to make their point by committing minor public order offences, and I found myself reminded throughout of an old Judge Dredd strip in which he delivers the line “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses... and I'll give ‘em justice!” while leading a baton charge into a riot or demonstration and starts cracking heads with his daystick.

Quote of the Day:
“A beautiful battle is one you don’t have to fight… he did not like battles. You could get holes poked in you in battles.”
- Robert Jordan, Knife of Dreams

Current Mood: Peckish
Current Music: Sirenia - 'Absent Without Leave'

Day 22 → A website

http://xkcd.com/150/

Day 19 → A talent of yours
I don't do talent. I do jack-of-all-trades. I'm pretty good at quite a few things, usually very good at picking things up, but never a shining star at anything in particular.

Day 20 → A hobby of yours
Wargaming. I bought the book Forest of Doom in 1983 or thereabouts, and I'm now sitting on a pile of toy soldiers big enough to squash an elephant. I enjoy painting up the models and pitting wits against people when playing em on the table, as well as having a bit of a fetish for buying new and shiny toys. I don't make my own, but I do like converting things. And tentacles.

I play once or twice a week regularly, and always have models on my table to work on in front of the telly. Even now, after 20 years, I'm finding new things to play with, and new things to do with little metal and plastic men.

I've been primarily a GW player for years, but have become dissatisfied with a lot of their stuff recently (not the literature or the actual models, more the rules, pricing and attitudes). Especially with the discovery of both Privateer Press and Battlefront in the last few years. I even started a second LJ account to rattle on about what I've been doing rather than clutter this blog up with it: http://beatenzone.livejournal.com/ There's pics of painted models on there, if you want a rummage. Some better painted than others.

Day 21 → A recipe
Cajun Jambalaya.

2 chicken breasts. Half a Matteson's smoked sausage. 3-4 rashers bacon. (All chopped into bite size pieces.)
Red pepper. Onion. 2-3 stems celery. 4-6 cloves garlic. Tin of tomatoes. (All chopped into smaller than bite size pieces.)
Cup of (easy cook) basmati rice. 2 cups of boiling water.
Dash of sweet chilli sauce. Dash of Worcester sauce. Knorr veg stock cube. 4 bay leaves.

Emeril's Bayou Blast
2 1/2 teaspoons paprika
2 teaspoons salt
2 teaspoons garlic powder
1 teaspoon black pepper
1 teaspoon onion powder
1 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1 teaspoon dried oregano leaves
1 teaspoon dried thyme

I use a nice sized cook pot for this. I think mine's a 22cm (3.3litre) Le Creuset Cocotte, and this recipie fills it to the brim. Needs to have a lid!

- Fry the garlic, onion, pepper, celery in either Fry-Light or a little olive oil. Until things are turning translucent.
- Add tomatoes, rice, water, crumbled stock cube, sauces, and bay. Stir it all up, and bring to a simmer.
- Put lid on pot. Stir occasionally. Cook for about 8-9 minutes until the rice is almost done.
- While that's going on, mix up the Bayou Blast, and coat the chicken with it. Just mix them up in a bowl together.
- The rice will cook almost exactly with the water that's available. A minute or two before the rice is done, you want to add, and stir in, all the meat. The meat will cook very quickly while the rice finishes, and be nice and moist.
- Once the meat and rice are cooked through, it's ready to serve. And it doesn't need any accompanying dishes, as everything goes in the one pot.

It's actually quite straightforward, and is absolutely awesome food.

In the interests of dieting, we've tried swapping out the chicken for Quorn chunks, and dropping the sausage. About half a bag will do for this recipie. Any more will overwhelm the other ingredients.

Original recipie I found used Andouille sausage, but I've never found it in the shops, so Mattesons it is. Original also uses shrimp, but I'm not a fan, so bacon.

On Saturday I got up early (this is becoming an unfortunate habit, mainly due to there being little to do at night these days) and got stuck into doing some unfortunately necessary shopping, both online and in good old twat-filled meatspace. This included picking up a small roll of gaffa tape from a stall in the Victoria market staffed by a woman who had never actually heard of gaffa tape, and to whom I had to describe it before she could assist me in locating some. Unbelievably, things then got more complicated.

I went into John Lewis in search of black lampshades. People have mocked me for this, but there is method to my apparently “effeminate” madness: The new flat is fairly low-ceilinged, and as a result the lightbulbs hang at approximately my eye-level. Putting shades on them will in no way reduce how often I bump into them (I’ve already broken the socket in the kitchen with my head), but it should reduce any further damage and will mean that I won’t get a hot lightbulb in the eye at any point. Heh. Anyway, they had the ones I wanted, but not enough of them (I needed one for every exposed light fitting in the flat, of which there are five). I also observed that the traditionally I AM SO MIDDLE-CLASS IT HURTS staff – whom, as always, were astonished that I a) am markedly more well-spoken than they are, and b) actually have some of that money thing to spend – seemed somewhat younger than usual. Quite where they found so many incredibly supercilious acne-plagued teenagers, I don’t know – I didn’t think there were any posh people in Nottingham, let alone young ones.

I returned home, hung the shades I had, and turned to John Lewis online to buy some more. This was a surprisingly painless process (no MasterCard SecureCode!), and they offered free next-day in-store collection. Excellent, I thought, paid my money, placed my order… and was promptly told that I would need a hard copy of my order confirmation email to collect them. What the fuck? Why didn’t they mention that before I paid? The cunts. This was an issue because although I do have printer, I haven’t had any ink for it since the summer in which yourapocalypse and I went adventuring (2007, was it?). And this, dear readers, is where the complications I mentioned above kicked off…

Quote of the Day:
“I like Clint Eastwood because he has only two facial expressions: One with the hat, and one without it.”
- Sergio Leone

Current Mood: Irate
Current Music: Bon Jovi - 'Runaway'

On the Wednesday after the Vain show, I made a special trip back to the old place, specifically to collect my Foreman grill so I could make bacon for jellybearwhore when she visited the day after. Normally we’d watch Deadliest Warrior during one of her visits, but since we’ve got through all of those, she assisted me in re-assembling my bookcases instead.

I got up stupidly early on the Friday morning for a dental appointment, and I came back with the usual clean bill of health. I remain unsure how to feel about the way that particular dentist always seems so taken aback that I have healthy (if not especially nice to look at) teeth.

I then made my way across to Nottingham Office Equipment on Castle Boulevard, in search of a desk chair. x_louise_x saw me making my entrance, and so after mauling the poor girl with hugs we spent about forty-five minutes testing various available seats, and discovering that my arse is substantially larger than hers. One of us was more amused by this revelation than the other. I shall leave you, my dear readers, to decide which way round this was. Hah. She also provided able assistance by holding my coat while I hoisted the box containing my eventual selection of new chair onto my shoulder and proceeded to carry it back to the flat. This was in no way as strenuous or as miserable an experience as hand-carrying that mattress had been, but it wasn’t much fun either. The company was what made it bearable on this occasion.

The rest of the day was spent assembling furniture – first the desk chair, then the big black chest of drawers I got from Ikea while we had the van. This was easily the most involved flatpack I’ve ever done battle with, but I still got it finished in fairly good time. This is hot work, however, and me being me I stripped my top off while I got it done. I made a Facebook status update about how wielding a hammer with my shirt off with my hair loose made me a “manly man”, and I was amused by the number of lasses who “liked” it or felt obliged to leave comments – and they weren’t all about the psychological traumas such a mental image almost certainly caused. Heh.

Quote of the Day:
“ ‘Your man Jesus seems to me a bit of a son a bitch when it comes to women,’ Roland said. ‘Was he ever married?’
The corners of Callaghan’s mouth quirked. ‘No,’ he said, ‘but his girlfriend was a whore.’
‘Well,’ Roland said, ‘that’s a start.’ ”
- Stephen King, Wolves of the Calla

Current Mood: Lethargic
Current Music: Monster Magnet - 'King of Mars'

( I love my brother )

I took my place at the barrier, and to my surprise I found myself standing beside a knot of giggling teenage schoolgirls. I Am Not Making This Up – they had come directly to the gig, and still had their uniforms in their bags. I should perhaps not be surprised to report that they weren’t at all irritating, which is more than can be said for the leather-faced, crack-voiced glam harridans that showed up after the support bands had finished and commence trying to elbow their ways to the front.

Vain were pretty much as I was expecting them – bloody good, but hamstrung by some of the worst sound I have ever heard, even in the Basement. Rock music is known for having guitars, you know? It’s not drum and bass. I was also amused to see how poorly some of the band have aged. Davy Vain has always been possibly the ugliest frontman in hair metal, and he isn’t getting any better. At least he doesn’t look like Tom Jones, unlike their current drummer. Hah.

A band with a back catalogue of the quality of Vain’s is always going to have to leave a lot of material out – I’ve still never heard them play ‘Without You’ or ‘Looking Glass’ live, and I would very much like to do so – and the set was fairly similar to the last time I saw them, with the majority of the songs being drawn from No Respect and only a sprinkling of material from the later (and less well-known) albums. ‘Slave’ went down surprisingly well, but I think ‘Smoke and Shadows’ and ‘No Respect’ itself were the highlights of the show.

Oh, and a postscript concerning my aforementioned copy of the new version of All Those Strangers: Once I’d bought it from the merchandise stall at the back of the room, I didn’t really know what to do with it. I couldn’t put it in one of the pockets of my combats (that’s an almost guaranteed way of getting the disc damaged), and I needed my hands free for applauding, gesticulating, and generally hanging on to the barriers, so instead I perched my CD on the step on the other side of the barriers. This meant that I occasionally had to grab it and whip it out of the way of careless photographers, but it was the least worst option available. However, this also meant that it was clearly visible to members of the band, and when Davy was inciting the crowd to go and buy the album, he dropped into the photography pit, snatched it up, leapt back onto the stage and proceeded to brandish it aloft as a visual aid to his declamation. He put it back when he was done, of course, so I’m amused to be able to say that the CD that’s still sitting here on my desk has a) been handled by the man himself, and b) has been a prop in one of the band’s live shows. Heh.

Quote of the Day:
“… the man is so old school he drives a yellow bus with gothic arch windows.”
- Chris Onstad, Achewood

Current Mood: Headacehy
Current Music: Fear Factory - 'Zero Signal'