Duke of York’s Picturehouse in Brighton have ditched trailers and adverts in favour of showing short films from local filmmakers before late-night screenings of cult classics in The Duke’s After Dark. Read the news piece and the full related interview with Toby King on the website for The Argus newspaper.
In their heyday ’70s heavy metal legends Thin Lizzy played to packed-out stadiums. But the band hasn’t released a studio album since 1983 (‘Thunder and Lightning’), split after they played their last gig in 1984, and hasn’t produced any new material since the tragic death of frontman Phil Lynott, their founding member and principal songwriter, in 1986. The band has existed in various incarnations since then, mostly as a tribute to Phil Lynott and always playing the Thin Lizzy back catalogue. Almost thirty years later, the current lineup are on tour, still playing all the hits, but amid talk of recording new songs. With support from Triggerfinger and Clutch, the boys are back – it’s just a question of why.
Read the full review at Brighton Noise
The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2011 annual report for this blog.
Here’s an excerpt:
A New York City subway train holds 1,200 people. This blog was viewed about 4,700 times in 2011. If it were a NYC subway train, it would take about 4 trips to carry that many people.
As far back as I can remember, I’ve always wanted to be a gaijin. Gangster, I meant GANGSTER. But, you see, I’m gaijin. I’ve always been gaijin. And I think it’s about time that all writers claimed the word gaijin as their own.
“Writing sustains me. But wouldn’t it be more accurate to say that it sustains this kind of life? Which does not, of course, mean that my life is any better when I don’t write. On the contrary, at such times it is far worse, wholly unbearable, and inevitably ends in madness. This is, of course, only on the assumption that I am a writer even when I don’t write – which is indeed the case; and a non-writing writer is, in fact, a monster courting insanity.”
–Franz Kafka, to Max Brod, July 5, 1922
I’ve no idea how these fragments are all connected – but they are.
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