The Swipe Volume 2 Chapter 7
When it comes to Shrove Tuesday versus Ash Wednesday, you better believe I’m all about the pancakes. Straight no chaser classic 321 recipe (300g flour, 2 eggs, 100ml milk) but make sure you let it sit for an hour or so. Let your batter become the batter it always knew it could be. Melt a little butter in a thin wide pan, pour in your batter a ladleful at a time. A minute each way, flip as soon as the visible side looks dry. Use a spatula to turn it, for heaven’s sake, we’re grownups here, no one wants a pancake hat. That first slightly shonky one? Trust me, it’ll taste great. Chef’s treat. Just lemon and sugar on top, thanks, but go heavy.
Every other time in the year I make pancakes (and I make them a lot) it’s all about the puff-up from baking powder, the tang of yoghurt playing against bacon and maple syrup. If I’m feeling super-fancy, a few thin chipolatas. If I’m feeling healthy, a compote from one of them freezer bags of fruit. But on February 13th, I keep it old school.
And you know, as an expression of love pancakes served on a nice plate to your baby kicks flowers and chocs into the long grass. Well, that’s what TLC says, and I believe everything she tells me.
Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, welcome to The Swipe.
Rob is reading…
I took a punt on two months of Kindle Unlimited for a quid, and am subsequently reading all the comics I can get my hands on. Catching up on the Krakoa years in X-Men, and Greg Rucka and Jason Aaron’s takes on everyone’s favourite Canadian snikt-meister. Honestly tho, Logan is at the point now where he pretty much writes himself…
Rob is watching…
The Marvels. Not half as bad as all the haters with anti-Disney agendas would have you believe. I mean, not top tier by any means but it gallops along with pep and verve, the cast are uniformly great and the movie is just a big ball of fun. A good punt for a Saturday night.
Rob is listening…
to Galaxie 500. A bit of an obsession back in the day. I’ve had a slowcore playlist on for the commute this week. Lots of Low, Slint, Morphine, Yo La Tengo and these guys. Kind of suiting the wintery mood, with the barest hint of a possibility of brighter days to come. Dean Wareham and crew did like their snow, with covers of Yoko Ono’s Listen The Snow Is Falling and, well, this. So nice to hear it again. A dig into the vinyl may be necessary this weekend.
Rob is eating…
Pancakes. Come on, keep up.
Rob’s Low-Key Obsession Of The Week…
Rick Stein’s new show on weekday evenings is decent comfort viewing. He was making crumpets this week, and issued an instruction which could be viewed in more than one way. I paraphrase, but this is close enough…
‘Pour your foamy batter into the hot, greased rings.’
I had to look at TLC to see if it was just me spotting the accidental Finbarr Saunders, to see her doubled up with laughter on the sofa.
The boys from Viz would have a field-day.
I haven’t been able to get the phrase out of my head since.
A paen to movie going in the 90s and the birth of the movie rental industy. This is tremendously evocative. I remember the big debate every weekend about what movie would come home with us, whose turn it was to choose, the sulks and arguments (especially if the film was a dud) or the glow when a cinematic gem was discovered. They were simpler times.
Off-brand snacks and stolen DVDs
Ursula Le Guin’s The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas is a thought experiment of sorts, a consideration of the sacrifice required to bring about an exalted existence, and how certain kinds of people are unwilling to accept it. It is, in my opinion, one of the greatest short stories ever written. Now Isabel J. Kim has taken the idea at its core and flipped the narrative. It’s a brave and necessary update, answering some questions raised by the original tale and raising others. Read the original if you don’t know it, then the new version.
Writers are prone to vanishing into research holes when working on a book. But research, in its purest sense, should not be about confirmation bias. When done with an open mind and a sense of honest curiosity, it can reshape your intended narrative in unexpected ways. Allison Brennan has more…
More input on the smaller, weirder web which is gradually pushing its colourful head out of the enshittified murk of our current set up. Consider this a sort of reading list and possibly inspiration to try and open a space for yourself.
A classic and nearly forgotten fantasy heroine gets an overdue resurrection. Jirel feels like the sort of fighter who is about to get a whole new enthusiastic following, myself included.
50 years of Bagpuss. A very English, very 70s kids programme, filled with atmosphere and a quiet air of eerieness. I have been a fan for as long as I can remember. Back in the early 2000s I helped with some video restoration on the original tapes, and Oliver Postgate came in to review. I played an episode and he did all the voices. I’m misting up thinking about it even now.
Baggy And A Bit Loose At The Seams
Expect to start seeing these signs popping up in social media feeds anytime now. As a response to toxic discourse, alongside the ever-helpful mute button, they could come in very handy. Dan Hon has done the world a service this week.
History is littered with those pivotal moments which on examination don’t make a lick of sense. We’ll never know the full context behind some of the events on this Cracked listicle, but ‘screw it’ seems as good an explanation as any.
Lastly, a lovely piece on Atlas Obscura on the 13th century diary-cum-scrapbook called the zibaldone. Like the digital gardens mentioned above, it’s a small space for you, however you want to run it.
Billy Joel seems to be getting a lot of play in the house this week. TLC is responsible, and I have no problem with the reminder of how skilled and sharp a songwriter he is. Scenes From An Italian Restaurant is generally referred to as Billy’s Bohemial Rhapsody. A multi-part song with romance and reflection at its heart, I have found myself playing it again and again. This version, live from Yankee Stadium in 1990, puts me in a very New York State of mind.
See you in seven, fellow travellers.
