Showing posts with label Celebrities. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Celebrities. Show all posts
Sunday, 9 October 2011
Thursday, 22 September 2011
Fuel to the Flame by Joolz
Back in the '90s, the heroine of our generation was the punk poet, Joolz Denby. Here she is in action, in 1991:
I have an e-mail, dating from 2006, from her giving me permission to reproduce 'Fuel to the Flame' on a long-dead website. This piece of prose has been keeping me sane and on track, in Amnesty International campaigns, since about 1992. In my humble opinion, the line 'it takes great control to be angry' is possibly the most important one that Joolz ever wrote.
Last night, as the world watched on in shock at the killing of Troy Davis, in Georgia, I tried to find 'Fuel to the Flame'. I wanted to show it to two friends in messenger, in the hope that it could prove as much a help to them, as it has for me.
Fuel to the Flame by Joolz
It takes great control to be angry. You wouldn't think so, would you; angry usually means a burst of temper, the row, the smashed plate, the nice cup of tea after the sobs and sniffs. But that's not angry, not really, that's being a bit cross, annoyed, put out. Angry is waking up every day in the certain knowledge that you can't put right the wrongs you see before you, gross and unforgiveable.
Mind you, what's wrong to one person is fine to someone else, I grant you that, oh yes. I mean, when I see the Abundant Life Evangelical Church looming like a great grey warehouse on the hill, and contemplate the sorry mentality of its good Christian flock, my anger simmer a little, it must be said. Now someone else might say that Christians are decent folk with moral standards and the welfare of the world at heart and it's wrong to condemn them out of hand - even if that's what they do to everyone else; two wrongs don't make a right and all that. You can get into one of those long arguments about the state of the world that go on for hours and a clever speaker could probably beat me easily, as I was never the great debater, being too furious and prone to becoming speechless and tearful.
Because it fill me up, anger, like a balloon full of fire and it does tend to put people off, doesn't it? My gran thought I would grow out of it, 'bolshie', she said I was and when I'd had my share of knocks from life, I'd settle down and mind my own business, but that doesn't seem to have happened at all - in fact it's even worse as time has slowly robbed me of all my heroes. All the little cruelties and betrayals that people hand out in private with self-righteous expressions do make you understand how easily humans can do murder, rape and even genocide or the vast destruction of land and water. It's just a matter of scale. What doesn't alter is the overwhelming ability of humanity to convince itself utterly that it is justified, that it had the right, that it was someone else's fault.
You know, I remember, I remember very well when I was a child, believing with all the power that I could summon, that if you loved someone enough, they would love you back, they'd have to. I was wrong, of course. But I wonder how often, in some form or other, that child's belief howls in the heart of the victims when predator looms over them, how often the tortured scream.
'You must believe me, I don't know anything, you must believe me, it's the truth', as if the truth will save them; how often the woman smashes up against the wall spitting teeth and blood crying, 'but I love you, I love you', as if her love will save her. Oh, it's not like that in real life, is it? In real life, they asked for it, they just happened to be in the wrong place, mix with the wrong people, marry the wrong man, the chain of excuses.
And it takes control to be angry, you must be precise, get hold of the twisting screaming thing each day and leash it tight, because otherwise you burn up inside and nothing gets done, you die... and what does another dead soldier mean in the great scheme of things? It means one less to be angry about the small betrayals and the great, it means one pair less of open eyes that see and cannot shut in the kingdom of the blind and that would never do, because it's a long war we're fighting against ourselves.
I have an e-mail, dating from 2006, from her giving me permission to reproduce 'Fuel to the Flame' on a long-dead website. This piece of prose has been keeping me sane and on track, in Amnesty International campaigns, since about 1992. In my humble opinion, the line 'it takes great control to be angry' is possibly the most important one that Joolz ever wrote.
Last night, as the world watched on in shock at the killing of Troy Davis, in Georgia, I tried to find 'Fuel to the Flame'. I wanted to show it to two friends in messenger, in the hope that it could prove as much a help to them, as it has for me.
Fuel to the Flame by Joolz
It takes great control to be angry. You wouldn't think so, would you; angry usually means a burst of temper, the row, the smashed plate, the nice cup of tea after the sobs and sniffs. But that's not angry, not really, that's being a bit cross, annoyed, put out. Angry is waking up every day in the certain knowledge that you can't put right the wrongs you see before you, gross and unforgiveable.
Mind you, what's wrong to one person is fine to someone else, I grant you that, oh yes. I mean, when I see the Abundant Life Evangelical Church looming like a great grey warehouse on the hill, and contemplate the sorry mentality of its good Christian flock, my anger simmer a little, it must be said. Now someone else might say that Christians are decent folk with moral standards and the welfare of the world at heart and it's wrong to condemn them out of hand - even if that's what they do to everyone else; two wrongs don't make a right and all that. You can get into one of those long arguments about the state of the world that go on for hours and a clever speaker could probably beat me easily, as I was never the great debater, being too furious and prone to becoming speechless and tearful.
Because it fill me up, anger, like a balloon full of fire and it does tend to put people off, doesn't it? My gran thought I would grow out of it, 'bolshie', she said I was and when I'd had my share of knocks from life, I'd settle down and mind my own business, but that doesn't seem to have happened at all - in fact it's even worse as time has slowly robbed me of all my heroes. All the little cruelties and betrayals that people hand out in private with self-righteous expressions do make you understand how easily humans can do murder, rape and even genocide or the vast destruction of land and water. It's just a matter of scale. What doesn't alter is the overwhelming ability of humanity to convince itself utterly that it is justified, that it had the right, that it was someone else's fault.
You know, I remember, I remember very well when I was a child, believing with all the power that I could summon, that if you loved someone enough, they would love you back, they'd have to. I was wrong, of course. But I wonder how often, in some form or other, that child's belief howls in the heart of the victims when predator looms over them, how often the tortured scream.
'You must believe me, I don't know anything, you must believe me, it's the truth', as if the truth will save them; how often the woman smashes up against the wall spitting teeth and blood crying, 'but I love you, I love you', as if her love will save her. Oh, it's not like that in real life, is it? In real life, they asked for it, they just happened to be in the wrong place, mix with the wrong people, marry the wrong man, the chain of excuses.
And it takes control to be angry, you must be precise, get hold of the twisting screaming thing each day and leash it tight, because otherwise you burn up inside and nothing gets done, you die... and what does another dead soldier mean in the great scheme of things? It means one less to be angry about the small betrayals and the great, it means one pair less of open eyes that see and cannot shut in the kingdom of the blind and that would never do, because it's a long war we're fighting against ourselves.
Friday, 5 August 2011
Novie Grooves Anime Style in 'Funk 3'
Novie is one of the nicest celebrities that you will ever encounter. She is a singer, with a new track called 'Funk 3' out right now; but Novie is perhaps better known as an actress. Canadian fans know her best of all. She is the voice of LeShawna in the 'Total Drama' series; and Jackie in 'Cyberchase'. But before I tell you how I know she's a lovely person, let me show you that new single.
The one and only Novie with 'Funk 3'!
Over on MangaBullet, a friend and I had just been given joint custody of a Mello and Matt/Death Note related club, while the previous owner discovered she had a life. We didn't, so it all worked out. LOL Xizarx and I kicked around ideas about what we could bring to the party. We decided that we would try to track down one of the original Death Note voice actors and interview him/her. Top of the list were David Hurwitz (Mello) and Drew Nelson (Matt) for obvious reasons.
The trouble was that no amount of running their names through search engines brought us anywhere close to either gentleman's contact details. There was no way we could beg an interview, if we couldn't even find them.
But there was one lady out there who knew precisely where to locate Drew Nelson. After working with him on two shows, Novie Edwards was a close friend. During our hunt, I undercovered a YouTube video, where Novie had interviewed him herself. I ventured a PM to her and the response came back within just a few hours. She was happy to put us in touch.
Novie came through! The interview with Drew Nelson happened and, not only our club, but the entire of MangaBullet were involved. We were featured on the front page! Exciting times. Novie read it and PMed me again to congratulate us on a great interview. She's an extremely down to Earth and enthusiastic person, who was even kind enough to nip onto Drew's Facebook page and comment on his posting of the link there. The 'Total Drama' fans were in raptures.
Therefore, I'm only too happy to oblige in letting all of my friends know about 'Funk 3'. She PMed me to tell me that it was out and that sounds like a blog entry to me!
I hope you enjoyed it.
The one and only Novie with 'Funk 3'!
Over on MangaBullet, a friend and I had just been given joint custody of a Mello and Matt/Death Note related club, while the previous owner discovered she had a life. We didn't, so it all worked out. LOL Xizarx and I kicked around ideas about what we could bring to the party. We decided that we would try to track down one of the original Death Note voice actors and interview him/her. Top of the list were David Hurwitz (Mello) and Drew Nelson (Matt) for obvious reasons.
The trouble was that no amount of running their names through search engines brought us anywhere close to either gentleman's contact details. There was no way we could beg an interview, if we couldn't even find them.
But there was one lady out there who knew precisely where to locate Drew Nelson. After working with him on two shows, Novie Edwards was a close friend. During our hunt, I undercovered a YouTube video, where Novie had interviewed him herself. I ventured a PM to her and the response came back within just a few hours. She was happy to put us in touch.
Novie came through! The interview with Drew Nelson happened and, not only our club, but the entire of MangaBullet were involved. We were featured on the front page! Exciting times. Novie read it and PMed me again to congratulate us on a great interview. She's an extremely down to Earth and enthusiastic person, who was even kind enough to nip onto Drew's Facebook page and comment on his posting of the link there. The 'Total Drama' fans were in raptures.
Therefore, I'm only too happy to oblige in letting all of my friends know about 'Funk 3'. She PMed me to tell me that it was out and that sounds like a blog entry to me!
I hope you enjoyed it.
Tuesday, 2 August 2011
Grace Petrie Will Own Your Soul
I unashamedly love Grace Petrie. It's always nice to hear the thud of something coming through the post that isn't a bill. But when it's a jiffy envelope with the latest Grace Petrie CD inside, then you know that your day is about to be wonderful.
'Tell Me A Story' comes in a fold around, recycled cardboard cover. Inside, it informs us that 'no trees were harmed in the making of this CD case'. LOL She included a couple of coasters, bearing doodles and the legend: 'Be strong, be resilient, be young, be fucking brilliant'. It's a refrain that we all know from the last album, as it's belted out in the song, 'Inspector Morse'. I didn't actually need the physical CD, as I'd already downloaded the electronic version of this album. But Grace Petrie is going to be huge. I want the kudos of saying that I bought the CD before anyone had heard of her.
It's not often that you watch the heir apparent to a rock'n'roll legend being handed a touch of the baton. It may have happened in private already, or in some Leicestershire music venue, but this was the public bestowing. Glastonbury, Leftfield, 2010. Grace Petrie's festival debut.
In truth, we were only in there because it was so unbearably hot outside. This was a marquee. It had shade and, if you braved a quick dash in the sunshine, a nearby vendor of fine ciders. Billy Bragg told again his oft-repeated story of attending the Rock Against Racism gig, in London, some time in the Middle Ages to hear him tell it. He saw the Clash and was politicised by the passion of that great punk orator, Joe Strummer. To say that Billy Bragg then spent the next few decades being inspirational, to a generation of left wing leaning people, is like implying that the Pope is influential in the world of Catholicism.
One such fan is Grace Petrie. She listened to Bragg, in both the music and the politics, and learned to play guitar. When Bragg turned up to play a gig in her native Leicester, she waylaid him afterwards and handed him a CD of her songs. He liked them so much that he contacted her and asked her if she would like to play Glastonbury.
Can you imagine that? How must that have felt? "Hello, this is your idol on the 'phone. Would you like to play your own songs at the biggest, most legendary festival of all time?" I wonder if she actually screamed down the receiver, or managed to keep her decorum until she had hung up.
I was in the Leftfield, sipping cider in the shade, when Billy Bragg introduced her. Everyone was sitting on the grass, but one woman stood up, right in front of me and my friend, totally blocking our view. We raised our eyebrows in silent indignation, but being very British and polite, we held our tongues. It was nothing that a bit of shuffling across couldn't solve.
(Later on, we had to forgive her. This turned out to be Molly, Grace's girlfriend, with her face moist with proud tears, standing up there so she could film this momentous occasion. Molly gave me such a hug afterwards, overwhelmed with it all to the point of trembling. With the gig and Grace playing; not with the fact she was hugging me, just to be clear here.)
Grace Petrie's set was amazing. We all paid attention. As the songs poured out, one after another, we even got up to dance. There was a familiarity here. None of us knew her (apart from Molly and the gang from her 'hood, obviously), but she was a fan. She was an ordinary person, who had got to go up on the stage and she was so gleeful about that. She took us with her. It helped that the songs were good. She was 'our' Gracie by the end of it (Gracie Fields held that fond moniker for way too long).
She came back to the Leftfield this year. 2011 was a year of mud and sunshine and the crowd was even bigger. Word was getting around. Another friend came with us to see what all of the hype was about. "She's like a female Billy Bragg, isn't she?" Yeah, she is. Just like Billy Bragg is a protegy of Joe Strummer. I saw the baton being passed on. It was great.
'Tell Me A Story' comes in a fold around, recycled cardboard cover. Inside, it informs us that 'no trees were harmed in the making of this CD case'. LOL She included a couple of coasters, bearing doodles and the legend: 'Be strong, be resilient, be young, be fucking brilliant'. It's a refrain that we all know from the last album, as it's belted out in the song, 'Inspector Morse'. I didn't actually need the physical CD, as I'd already downloaded the electronic version of this album. But Grace Petrie is going to be huge. I want the kudos of saying that I bought the CD before anyone had heard of her.
It's not often that you watch the heir apparent to a rock'n'roll legend being handed a touch of the baton. It may have happened in private already, or in some Leicestershire music venue, but this was the public bestowing. Glastonbury, Leftfield, 2010. Grace Petrie's festival debut.
In truth, we were only in there because it was so unbearably hot outside. This was a marquee. It had shade and, if you braved a quick dash in the sunshine, a nearby vendor of fine ciders. Billy Bragg told again his oft-repeated story of attending the Rock Against Racism gig, in London, some time in the Middle Ages to hear him tell it. He saw the Clash and was politicised by the passion of that great punk orator, Joe Strummer. To say that Billy Bragg then spent the next few decades being inspirational, to a generation of left wing leaning people, is like implying that the Pope is influential in the world of Catholicism.
One such fan is Grace Petrie. She listened to Bragg, in both the music and the politics, and learned to play guitar. When Bragg turned up to play a gig in her native Leicester, she waylaid him afterwards and handed him a CD of her songs. He liked them so much that he contacted her and asked her if she would like to play Glastonbury.
Can you imagine that? How must that have felt? "Hello, this is your idol on the 'phone. Would you like to play your own songs at the biggest, most legendary festival of all time?" I wonder if she actually screamed down the receiver, or managed to keep her decorum until she had hung up.
I was in the Leftfield, sipping cider in the shade, when Billy Bragg introduced her. Everyone was sitting on the grass, but one woman stood up, right in front of me and my friend, totally blocking our view. We raised our eyebrows in silent indignation, but being very British and polite, we held our tongues. It was nothing that a bit of shuffling across couldn't solve.
(Later on, we had to forgive her. This turned out to be Molly, Grace's girlfriend, with her face moist with proud tears, standing up there so she could film this momentous occasion. Molly gave me such a hug afterwards, overwhelmed with it all to the point of trembling. With the gig and Grace playing; not with the fact she was hugging me, just to be clear here.)
Grace Petrie's set was amazing. We all paid attention. As the songs poured out, one after another, we even got up to dance. There was a familiarity here. None of us knew her (apart from Molly and the gang from her 'hood, obviously), but she was a fan. She was an ordinary person, who had got to go up on the stage and she was so gleeful about that. She took us with her. It helped that the songs were good. She was 'our' Gracie by the end of it (Gracie Fields held that fond moniker for way too long).
She came back to the Leftfield this year. 2011 was a year of mud and sunshine and the crowd was even bigger. Word was getting around. Another friend came with us to see what all of the hype was about. "She's like a female Billy Bragg, isn't she?" Yeah, she is. Just like Billy Bragg is a protegy of Joe Strummer. I saw the baton being passed on. It was great.
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