It just so happens that there is only so much stuff one can fit into a standard week and we are not on Jupiter, where I understand the weeks are longer and they also have carb free pasta. And alien gas whales. As always I am writing to you from the past but, in this case - in this luscious cultural broth where plans exist two week prior - the effect is amplified.
At the time of writing, Polygon has put the most serious boot behind the unionisation of the gaming industry. This is a good thing and I am somewhat thankful for the experience of writing a little out from my more-forgiving-than-normal deadline. This is the opposite of crunch. People must finally have an active response to this. The gaming industry makes more bank per annum than the litertaure and movie markets combined. The whole “blessed to work” thing holds precisely zero bullshit. I said I was glad that I have the Serious luxury of time to think about this and I stand by that. Waypoint continue to plant their flag - on this occasion exampling sensible, sustainable slime - and my cockles are more sufficiently warmed. I’ve touched on the subject [not cockles] a good couple of times before and it makes sense to me. I like my media. I am interested and I care about the way in which that media is created. I can’t really hold faith with a world where we’re supposedly greener, more ethical and passionate about the milked nuts that go into our coffee, without actually being any of the above. There are people at stake here, let alone artisanal beverages. Hand out, clench fingers, raise fist.
If you’re lucky, people find a line through your unaired shit; your long neglected notebooks, tapes and contact sheets and they find a way to put together what, in life you could not. Seamus Heaney was one. The Artist Known As is another. I’m struggling to recall exactly who first told me of the massed vault of material from weekends in his home studio. There is apparently a whole other collection of early sketches, ideas and completely unreleased recordings of the man - both solo and with names/faces - that we may or may not eventually get hold of. This is the first of those releases and it has been done with the utmost care and respect. ‘Piano & a Microphone 1983’ is exactly the right amount of intimate, both in selection and production. His brief rendition of Joni Mitchell’s ‘A Case of You’ will make your toes ache in not a gouty way. It doesn’t overstay its welcome. It doesn’t mess with filler. It is a Goldilocks portion of Prince and we are lucky to have it.
There was a comic called ‘Shutter’ a while back and it was really, really good. It has a great female lead, all kinds of sci-fi goo and an intriguing cat. Think photographically inclined Lara Croft heads to Lauren Beukes’ ‘Zoo City’ by way of Charles Lutwidge (if Charles Lutwidge is interchangeable with either/both Jeff Noon and/or Alan Moore)? The cat is where I’m at. Leila Del Duca’s intrepid Alarm Cat is known as Cassius but he could also be known as Felix. As of now, you can expect my pen to paper for the first official book in the chronicle (that’s five not two, by the way Patrick) of ‘Felix The Plagiaristic Musical Cat Hunts Communist Sex Goats On The Moon’.
Copyright is a thing that expires and you’d better believe I have a number of those things on my radar or in the bag come 2024.
JD - TACOCAT
[Props to hjl for the thumbnail image. You’re a time travelling cat from magic land and we love you.]