The Swipe Volume 2 Chapter 2
I’m not sure why the January flood and cold snap always manages to take us by surprise. It’s been like this for the last ten years. Disappointingly mild Christmas, then we hit the New Year and the heavens fall while the mercury goes through the floor. To be fair, though, it’s all hit extra hard this year, and Berkshire has taken a kicking.
I don’t intend to minimise the distress of every home and business in Reading that’s been affected. I hope everyone gets the help they need with no unnecessary insurance company foolishness. Now is not the time to lowball the customer base, right? With that in mind I urge you, if you’re local and if you can, to get across the Playhatch roundabout and visit The Flowing Spring on the way to Henley. They’re open, despite the duck pond in the car park, and could really use the business.
Meanwhile, TLC and I are keeping warm and cosy, hitting the hibernation button hard. The Christmas oversupply of treats is going down slightly more quickly than planned but, hey, you gotta keep your strength up, right?
Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, stay safe and dry and welcome to The Swipe.
Rob is reading…
An Open Letter To Jeremy Allen White
Look, I get man crushes, OK?
Rob is watching…
I have mentioned previously that I enjoy watching guitar restoration videos. This is the next step—a kindly luthier makes a bass guitar for his honestly adorable six-year-old daughter. Immerse yerself in this one, and goggle at the beauty of the final build.
Rob is listening…
to a collection of songs which turn 40 years old in 2024. This makes me feel very, very old.
Rob is eating…
Beans. An Instant Pot full of an all-sorts mix, flavoured with the stock made from the bones of some M&S Korean-style chicken we had in the week, a couple of chorizo and a passila chili. Smoky, warming, comforting.
Rob’s Low-Key Obsession Of The Week…
I am thinking about becoming a Tea Monk.
I’m sure I’ve posted this before, but Elmore Leonard’s writing rules always bear repeating. Also, I like the word ‘hooptedoodle.’ You sort of know what it describes even if you’re not sure.
I don’t do resolutions any more, in the knowledge that my to-do lists are where good intentions are sent to die of neglect. If I did make promises I intended to keep, this list from The Marginalian would be a good base to start from.
How many original members does it take to make for a band to still be that band? Is Chic still Chic now it’s effectively the Nile Rodgers Band? How many versions of UB40 do we need? Let’s dig into this vexed question along with the founders of Blondie and gang Of Four…
To find the man, look for the father. Winston Churchill was many things to many people, but it’s pretty clear he was deeply messed up by his relationship with his dad. This letter from Lord Randolph would, if I had received it at a young age, done a number on me. Killer last line, too.
Scientists are deeply strange people. Don’t be fooled by the public displays of logic and rigorous method. I know folk in the scientific community who would do exactly what has been chronicled at the link below with the same lack of foresight or consideration. Idiots, every single one of them.
This next link keys into my professional interests as well as my unpaid job as the guy who regularly has to disable the motion-smoothing option on the parent’s and in-law’s TVs.
They Want You To Forget What A Film Looks Like
How many X-Men comics do you think are published every month? How about Batman? The answer—far, far more than you think and for very sound economic reasons. If you think the MCU has got complicated, you are in for a surprise…
I’m still befuddled by the blowback certain elements of social media have fired at movie sex scenes. It seems at best prudish, at worst censorious. Films have always used sex as a narrative device—it’s isn’t just an excuse to slip a bit of porn into proceedings (although, fair disclosure, I have worked on projects where that was precisely the case). Onscreen intimacy should not be sidelined or edited away. It has meaning, helping us to see every working part of a fictional relationship.
I offer new evidence in my ongoing assertation that Comics Do It Better. In this case, how the US Government used (and continues to use) funny-book solutions to real world problems in both the public and military arenas. Like, for example, how to start your M561 cargo truck in cold weather…
We’ll finish in a little more Ninth Art goodness. Joel Morris considers how digital restoration of classic comic art can lessen its original impact. These works were designed to be printed, distributed and consumed in a very particular way. The artists and writers involved knew how to build power out of the limitations imposed on them by the process. Taking that away in retrospect and smoothing out the rough edges seems—wrong, somehow.
The new big noise comes from Dublin, courtesy of scrappy punk kiddies Sprints. The new album, Letter To Self is pleasingly abrasive, scouring off the last of the Christmas cheer like a quick run round the sand-blaster. I like them a lot, and I think you will too if you don’t already.
See you in seven, fellow travellers.
