The Swipe Volume 3 Chapter 7
The Ides Of March are upon us. Death to all tyrants! Rise, citizens, like the flood of Biblical times, and wash away the corruption spreading over our land. Let those who think themselves untouchable understand, at the last, that true power comes from unity of the righteous against oppression!
Also this week: owls, gherkins and a sufficiency of prog.
Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, welcome to The Swipe.
Rob is reading…
The Left Hand Of Darkness. Ursula K. LeGuin’s masterpiece has just been re-released in a new volume and boy howdy, is it ever a book for these uncertain times. Set on a planet where the population move easily between genders, it is fearsome, unrelenting, beautiful and haunting. A story for all of us, a tale that doesn’t get stale. Massively recommended.
Rob is watching…
Seeds growing. Shut up and look at my gherkins. They were seeds in a packet 2 weeks ago.
Rob is listening…
to this gorgeous restoration of a full Genesis gig, filmed in 1973 at Shepperton Studios. A prog performance of glorious silliness, pomposity and yes, magnificence. I love this stuff—it transcends the inherent absurdity of the wild costumes and overwrought theatrics to find a place where beauty lives in madness.
Rob is eating…
Fish pie. I gave one of my signature dishes a tweak this week. Rather than the usual creamy sauce, I used a fish fumet stock which had been hiding at the back of the cupboard for ages. The finish was a little looser than I’d normally allow but filled with robust, smoky flavour. Started with lots of fennel and onion, topped with riced potato for a lighter finish, it was one of those dishes which makes me glad I have a bit of time once I come off shift in the afternoons to play around in the kitchen. Not quite as comforting as the usual béchamel sauce, I’ll admit, but perfectly delicious nevertheless.
I have half the bottle of stock left, which I’ll use in a tomato sauce with a bunch of past-date basil I picked up in the Co-op for next to nowt, the remains of last night’s bottle of cheap Merlot and some butter and onions. Dunno what I’ll do with it yet. Perhaps the base note of a fishy pizza. Hmmmm.
Rob’s Low-Key Obsession Of The Week…
Owls In Towels. Angry Ruru is my favourite.
I was delighted to find this history of Bob Burden’s Flaming Carrot, which sent me straight down a nostalgia-hole. The Deadline era of British comics, when a swathe of new compilation titles like Revolver haunted newsagent’s shelves, were a great place to find reprints of strange and terrifying strips. Flaming Carrot has a wild energy and skew-whiff vibe unlike any other. Worth tracking down a copy or two if you can. As a sidebar, Burden’s other major creation, The Mystery Men, would become one of the greatest superhero movies of all time, an unfairly forgotten gem.
The surreal and upsetting world of Flaming Carrot
A character study of rare charm and sweetness. We could all use a neighbour like Alfi (although I get the feeling he would probably become incredibly annoying over time).
Aah, rum. I’ve developed a taste for the sweet stuff over the last few years, I suspect as part of my love for the flavour profile of bourbon. A good spiced rum adds a delicious complexity to a Kingston Negroni. I’ve found some great ones up in Northumbria, whose inhabitants clearly know the value of a warming nip on a cold night. The history of the sailor’s favourite is one filled with adventure, violence and exploitation. Pour yourself a glass and dive in, me hearties.
I don’t quite have the legs of the real old-school bloggers, counting myself as second generation. It’s pleasing to see some of the names I subscribed to still cranking out the posts. Darren at Link Machine Go has been at it for 25 years, and he’s still on my RSS feed today. At one point in the past I think my original blog, The Ugly Truth, was on his sidebar. Well done, sir, keep the flame burning.
Speaking of anniversaries which make me want to bury my head in my hands and wail, The Sisters Of Mercy’s iconic first album has forty candles on its birthday cake this year. It’s a record of dark atmospheric power, a soundtrack to my skinnier, hairier days. I still have the original record in the vinyl collection here at Swipe Towers. It will be played loud this weekend while I flounce around in black.
There seems to be an uptick in interest in R.E.M., I guess a by-product of their most famous records hitting big birthdays. I really enjoyed this collection of pieces about a select handful of their songs. Perfect Circle, by the way, was the tune played as TLC and I’s first dance on our wedding day.
Just in case you were wondering how important this band is to me.
Daniel Lavery’s Substack, The Chatner, is everything I want from a modern blog. Funny, elegant and smoothly confident, he trucks along while I trip and stumble. It’s so good it makes me angry.
Don’t Try And Tell My That My Backpack’s Open, Buddy.
In a week when Sam Altman announced a new version of ChatGPT which is ‘good at creative writing’ (there’s a phrase which makes my teeth itch) it’s worth reading Oisin McGann’s thread which absolutely nails the disparity between what we think AI is doing and what actually happens. There’s nothing intelligent here.
Finally—I think I want chickens now.
One last thought from Michael Kuppermann.
Let’s Outro with a call-back to the Genesis gig at the top of the chapter. Father-daughter duo Léane and Antoine Baril perform a lovely take on the epic Supper’s Ready. Too much prog for you this week? You fools! There is no such thing as too much! There is only ever barely enough! We demand more complication, another five-minute solo, an even more ridiculous costume change!
See you in seven, fellow travellers.
