MAY 2011

As the main technique for expressing my ideas I

usually choose drawing. I consider drawing as a starting

point which can lead me into any visual language of art.

The most important aim for everything that I do is the

emotion. I could say that I like to create a feeling rather than is it

good or bad. I get the inspiration from, different life

styles and cultures, from people that I observe in the

street, my fears and of course nature. I grew up surrounded by flowers, so I make use of lots of

fauna and flora (usually as mythological creatures).

Furthermore I try to address questions of identity, desire and relationship between humans

and nature.

EGLE pILkAuskAI TE

www.pILkAuskAITE.coM

Content

May 2011

10 Anish KapoorTo the Manchester

Art Gallery for a good old look

12 What is in a Contract?

pJ talks to the artist Francene about her work

18 A Fandom to Far?Miss Bond on what it means to be fan, and

when it all a bit to much

20 EurovisionThe Guilty pleasure

21 Where will Melting Pot be?

Devon Rock

22 Designer Drugs suede Hat reviews

Limitless

24 Creative WrittingJp. Bradley

pJArts writer

petite Berrycomic Artist

Emma BondMusic Interviews

suedeHatMovie Reviews

F. Boquera-seifertAssistant Editor

TopHatEditor / comic Artist

Hazywix wonder

May 2011

wELcoME BAck To MELTInG poT!

nIcE To sEE You ALL AGAIn, LookInG GooD!

so How HAvE wE BEEn You Ask – wELL, nEws Is THAT wE ARE In pRInT! wELL THE 1sT onE AnYHow, THE oTHERs ARE up coMInG!

MoRE nEws? wHY YEs! wE HEAR AT MELTInG poT ARE cuRREnTLY GETTInG ouT AnD ABouT A BIT, AnD MAkInG A MELTInG poT nIGHT.

MoRE nEws on THAT As I GET IT pEopLE, THouGH I’LL GIvE You THE HEADs up.

As ALwAYs I THAnk THE pEopLE wHo MAkE THIs possIBLE! MucH LovE.

AnD THAnks To ouR READERs!

Anish Kapoor's new exhibition 'Flashback' has begun in Manchester this spring to mark the start of a national tour. Until Sunday 5th June you can visit the gallery and see a collection of Kapoor's sculptures made from pigment, stone, polished stainless steel and wax. This is the first time a major show has been put on for the turner prize winning artist outside of

London for over a decade which means it is definitely one to see and will save avid art lovers the cost of train fare to the capital.

The sculptures on display at the city centre gallery are bold, impressive and stark. The sometimes massive pieces might not appeal to everyone, one room is filled with large, circular, reflective disks which some viewers at the show found unusual as they did not understand the meaning behind it. However as with a lot of sculpture it is the meaning behind the work which reveals its true intention. Anish kapoor's work is often focused on the idea of duality as a trip to India inspired him to explore the oppositions present in his Indian culture. Many of the sculptures display oppositions such as light and dark, inside and outside, abstract and realism. The sculptures become literal forms which aim to express two juxtaposing ideas or this 'duality' which kapoor found on his trip to India. This exhibition is a mix of kapoor's previous work, loaned to the gallery by the Arts council collection, and new creations that are inspired by his earlier work. The 'Flashback' series is funded by the Arts council collection as a way of showing how they support emerging artists at all stages of their career. Anish kapoor was supported by the Arts council early on in his career and now he is given the chance to build on his earlier ideas. The exhibition is a great way to follow an artists work from their beginnings to more modern ideas. All the work relates to other pieces but there are also changes in shape and size of the sculptures which show how the artist has developed. The Flashback series allows the history of the artist can be uncovered. walking around the gallery show is like reading a diary you get to see how the work has transformed and how ideas can alter. The layout of the work is going to be different in each gallery the work is shown in. This is in order to make the reflective surfaces work with the architecture of each individual space. This shows how kapoor really does consider space as important in sculptures. Another main feature of his work is colour. The bright bold colours are inspired by his visits to India where he saw mounds of raw pigment for sale in markets. These strong colours inspired his work and exhibit the cultural connections so integral to his work. One stand out piece is the giant silver orb, which is reminiscent of an apple. It's perfect reflective surface reflects the visitors and other work in a distorted mirrored way. It is beautiful in it's simplicity which seems to sum up kapoor's work. none of the pieces are over the top, they show an idea in a simple way which you will either love or hate. Either way the pieces on show are definitely worth seeing, if only for the chance to see work that has never been shown here before.

For more information or to see what else is on at the gallery visit:

p.J

Anish Kapoor at Manchester Art Gallery

In this month in Melting Pot P.J talks to Francene, the creator of contract which deal with how we look at our own relationships with people and society as a hole.

P.J) Your work is based around contracts - why do these legal documents interest you?

The language of the law, legalese, is like a magic language; its proponents are the powerful minority, and they can use this language to obscure real meaning. In Black’s Law Dictionary everyday words can mean something completely different so if, as wittgenstein said, the ‘limits of our language are the limits of our world’ then legalese is liminal; barely perceptible though nevertheless exerting increasing influence on our everyday lives.

P.J) What do you want people to learn/consider or realise from your work?

I try not to have an expectation of an outcome with my work because, consciously or not, it influences the nature of what one creates. I’m beginning to understand the limits of the written word; how it creates, defines and influences our lives to an inordinate extent.

P.J) In your essay you talk about marriage being a 'contract' which results in a woman essentially losing her identity- so are you anti-marriage?

well, marriage is a contract; to get married one must enter into certain formalities and requirements before a marriage is legally recognised, including the signing of the marriage register. I see marriage as an institution that

governs another’s and one’s own behaviour, creating the illusion of certainty; guaranteeing that two people’s feelings will remain forever as they do on the day of their wedding, ‘until death do us part’. I am far more disposed to the idea of hand fasting, of re-affirming love and commitment – or not – yearly, accommodating for changes that happen throughout one’s life

P.J) Would you describe yourself as a feminist?

we see here the problem of words; my definition of what it means to be a feminist may completely differ from yours, yet we are using the same word; I am conform to my definition, you to yours. The word feminist is so loaded nowadays by cultural concepts and stereotypes that it is virtually impossible to understand it. I am not a feminist per se; I am however in favour of gender equality.

P.J) Is your work meant to be ironic- in the sense that you are creating a contract for sexual situations which are meant to be 'special'?

I feel that irony can descend into flippancy, overshadowing any deeper meanings that are being conveyed, though my contracts can be seen on one level as ironic. They are, to an extent, absurd, and humour is a useful tool, making uncomfortable things easier to face.

P.J) Do you feel that the legality of marriage takes away the romance associated with it?

I don’t, in fact I think the two concepts fit together well as they are both as farcical as one

The Art of the Contract

another. signing a legal document to ‘prove’ your love for someone in public is just as preposterous as saying you are marrying ‘Mr Right’. Both are predicated on maintaining the illusion of certainty in spite of the passage of time. Romance supposes that once we’ve found ‘the one’, they will always be that, and marriage supposes two signatures and vows spoken on one day will bind us together legally, physically and emotionally for the rest of our lives.

P.J) What inspired you to start this work?

There were two events that led to the creation of the contracts in 2009. The first being a collaboration with James kennard, inspired by the pregnancy of a friend, called ‘contract of Conception’, whereby a newborn would fingerprint a contract, renouncing all blame of the forthcoming parenting it was about to start receiving. It is, of course, a grotesque image; the theatre of the hospital being the backdrop where tiny babies would ignorantly enter into their first legal agreement, fingerprinted as one would a criminal. The second incident came about early one sunday morning after many drinks, with three others. one was a young architecture student, another my housemate at the time (who said she was wanted a satisfying sexual encounter with no strings attached) and the other was a friend who was experimenting with living completely moneyless for a year and who claimed he could give any woman he slept with a multiple orgasm. I was interested in the way money changes the dynamics of a situation, and how people are much more motivated to do things for money than they are for goods of equivalent value, so I said I’d pay my friend £200 to sleep with the moneyless guy on certain conditions, writing out a cheque to prove my seriousness. As is the way with things conceived drunkenly at such a late hour, we were all quite uncertain about the reality of what we were creating. we wrote and all signed a contract detailing the conditions of the encounter, one of which being a multiple orgasm must be achieved, and another that the act must be witnessed by the young architecture student, much to his chagrin. They all decided it was sordid, unethical and

wrong, although they ended up sleeping together un-witnessed a few times anyway, thereby breaking the terms of the contract, meaning I never paid out, although by all accounts both parties were satisfied.

P.J) How do you describe yourself and your work- are you an artist? A commentator on society?

us humans are just too complex to be reduced down to simplistic labels; I comment on society and make art, I make art and comment on society. The two, for me, are potentially inclusive; being an artist and commentator can be one and the same thing. plus, it depends; to my dentist, I am a patient, to my customers I am a shop assistant, and to your readers, I am the creator of the work we’re discussing here.

P.J) Is your work meant to be seen as 'art' or is it an informative piece?

It can serve both ends; I think we need to get away from either/or logic where it is not applicable, and ultimately I cannot pre-empt how others will view my work as they bring their own perception and preconception to it. I strongly suspect context is the main factor; where and how it is shown determines how it is perceived.

P.J) Some people may find your work provocative. Are you trying to be controversial and shock people?

shock can be a force for positive change, or it can be mere titillation, and I think if it is to be effective, if needs to rooted in a solid foundation of meaning beyond mere provocation, and I find it astonishing that a legal contract concerned with facilitating dialogue about sexual situations can be more shocking than the way a lot of people conduct their sex lives. Take England on a typical saturday night; watch the girls overly made up, drinking too much and wearing very little, sucking off the bouncer in a toilet, getting an sTD. or ending up at somebody’s house they met

earlier in the evening drunk after taking a couple of pills, bought off some guy standing near the stairs drinking a smirnoff Ice. How many of these girls wake up hung over on sunday morning, in a bed next to a guy whose name has been forgotten – or never asked – confused and unsure whether they were fucked, though they assume they were as they look down and realise they’re completely naked, except for the make-up they didn’t take off. Try calling a sexual health clinic on Monday morning; it’ll be full to the brim with girls getting the morning after pill, promising the doctor this’ll be the last time unprotected sex with a stranger happens.That to me is shocking, although many see it as ‘having a laugh’ or being ‘young, free and single’. If we are more shocked at the idea of talking and negotiating our sex lives than we are of casual liaisons and one night stands, then what does that say about the society we live in?

P.J) Have you or anyone else ever used your sex contracts? If so, What response did they get? I have sold my contracts at spike Island in Bristol, and they have been published, so I suspect they have been used, although not as yet by people that have given me feedback. one of my friends forgot to whip one out, blaming the heat of the moment, and another friend’s threesome hasn’t happened yet, although I’ve made the contract now, so if it were to happen she would be prepared!As for myself, I haven’t used them, as my boyfriend is French and his English doesn’t permit him to understand legalese, meaning he was reluctant to sign something he didn’t understand in a language that wasn’t his own! Although talk of the contracts and the content of them, meant we discussed frankly many of the points covered in them. Anyone that is interested in acquiring one of my contracts can contact me if they would like one.

P.J) Your work is based on contracts and legal wording- do you have a legal background?

no I don’t, but my friend who has assisted me on all of the contracts, has been a solicitor for the past 15 years and is very familiar with the language of the law; her help has been absolutely invaluable, and I would like to use this opportunity to thank her very much for all her hard work in helping me over the past year and a half.

P.J) What is this work being used for? The contracts are a vehicle to explore human relations, the word and modern life, I am especially interested in how our language encodes certain unexamined systems of belief, which influence us by the structure of the language we speak and think in. I see many possibilities to research issues such as language extinction, the notion and problem of translation, cymatics, women and bureaucracy.

P.J) What do you hope to achieve with your work?

To reclaim sex from the mass media’s attempt to devalue and debase it. To view it as an expression of a loving relationship instead of being used by advertisers to sell toothpaste or frozen pastry.

P.J) Nowadays women do not necessarily have to change their names when they marry. So do you still think modern day marriage changes a woman's identity? Yes I do. women are socialised from infancy to dream of their ‘big day’, however the reality of marriage is very different from the fantasy. For women, marriage and motherhood increases unpaid – and decreases – paid work, and the transition from a working, independent woman into being a wife, mother and homemaker can be a difficult one, especially as women are marrying older and have lived independently before marrying. some people blame women’s lib for destroying the institution of marriage, suggesting if women were to accept and get on

with their new role, we’d all be a lot better off. But it’s hard to go back; women no longer want be identified as the wife and mother of someone else, they want to have what men have had for centuries – a family and a continued sense of self within and outside of it. I have the impression the real issue is that men’s place in society needs to change to accommodate women’s role as an equal – publicly and privately.ultimately a relationship founded on mutual love, respect and support is more important than being founded on marriage and I believe that love doesn’t need a piece of paper to prove it thus.

P.J) How do you think people would react if they were asked by a prospective partner to sign a contract? supposing you had the chutzpah to bring it into conversation with a new, prospective partner there would be certain variables involved. For instance, whether you were drunk or sober, whether you were both literate and native English speakers able to understand the content of the contract. How people would react would completely vary on the way they were brought up, their beliefs and how open they were to dialogue. If it were made clear sex or a relationship would only take place on condition of signature I think it might temporarily ruin the mood, but also facilitate discussion, which in the long run may save many a misunderstanding. I think – and am only speculating – that the reaction would be very different depending on the sex of the person asking.

P.J) Do you think sex contracts will ever become as big a part of society as marriage contracts?

A big perception shift would have to occur in order to become liberated, open and tolerant enough to start negotiating and debating our statuses in relationships, instead of following the accepted norms and conventions handed down to us. Marriage has existed for a long time, recognised by law and encouraged by many religions, and the Wedding Industry is making a tidy profit. With

so many vested interests, they’ll keep marriage going, keep reinventing it and re-branding it, making it relevant. The contracts are, of course, a dichotomy; would you want to live in a world where all of your personal, intimate relationships were formalised and defined? Or would you prefer unspoken, implicit contracts?But perhaps increasingly contractual relations will lead to positive changes, as we are able to discuss the conditions and consequences of our love affairs without the spectre of romantic love clouding our way. At the same time, such a bureaucratic state of affairs might prove to be the final straw for people sick of legal intrusion and being held to account by endless contracts, who instead want to get back to a world of common sense, trust and human relations.

P.J) Why do you think marriage is still such a big industry in a society where it is no longer essential to marry your partner?

put simply, a wedding industry is an industry all the same and is based on making money. so on one level it exists for consumers to consume and on another it is defining the cultural concept of a wedding and marriage itself. now there is less social pressure for women to marry, the focus has shifted towards aspiration, the advertisers know this so they pitch themselves towards the bride-to-be, sell her her vision of the perfect wedding day, flog her trinkets and novelties, underpinned unconsciously with ‘if you buy all this, then happiness forever can be guaranteed!’. we buy into the myth, the fairytale, and continue to conform to norms created long ago by the state and religion, now gladly perpetuated by capitalism.

If you wish to contact Francene for more information, or acquire a contract do so via:

ugpfashions@hotmail.com

At my day job I sat down to do my segment for this months magazine and I was interrupted by a pair of girls going off like a banshee in the waiting room. The reason for this was because they had just discovered that the band H.I.M has mutually agreed to severed ties with their record company Sire records.

This hit me, I could not understand why this scrap of news would affect a person in this way and why would this parting of ways somehow mean the end of the band in a whole? was this purely an overreaction on their part or not? when does being a fan go too far? one could say the fact they were in a tattoo studio having the band symbol inked on their skin could be seen as being over the top. However this is more of a common place event, people having symbol or lyrics from their favour band done. surely it’s just the same as me having my Alice in wonderland quote on my wrist? However it did make me wonder about some things, first off what does it mean to be a fan, and why do people over step the mark? I thought I will do a bit of looking into the band that brought about my new mind set on this subject. I myself knew very little about them or their music, it is true I have seen them play in Manchester last year, and what happened that night not only shocked me it also discussed me, it was nothing the band did themselves they came out played there set well.

However the treatment among the fans to each other was like nothing else I had ever witnessed. Two events stick out in my mind like a sore thumb, first was a women telling a girl probably three times younger than her that she wasn’t as much as a “fan” as her because she had not liked the band as long as she had. Two was a young girl being attacked by not only by a girl and her boyfriend but by another two girls as well. The reason for this attack by the four of them on this girl was because the lead singer Ville Valo had apparently been looking at her. I left this gig horrified and defiant that I never wanted to be in this situation again and what would the band think if they knew about some of the things that went on in the name of “Fanism”

I have been to 100’s of gigs and never seen anything like this before or since. so to be truthful I was not shocked about what I came across doing my little bit of digging. I would hate to paint every H.I.M fan with the same brush but it does seem a large number feel compelled to make their opinion about not only each member of the bands personal life but everything thing they do known.

This lead me to ask myself the simple question what right did these people or anyone have the right to pass comment at all about someone they do not no. I found myself coming over the same fazes over and over again, “they owe me” and “I pay for the life style.” Then I stumbled on a discussion about an interview about the band’s latest album “screamworks love in theory and practise.” After reading the comments on this subject I was even more shocked than before, see the whole conversation was about one subject, Ville Valo muse, from what I understood it was a fly away comment more

Can being a fan go too far?

about digging about people knocking on his door rather than about a muse. However whatever the meaning behind this wasn’t what was important .it was not what I was looking at, It was the wall of abuse about his muse I came across , “how she wasn’t any good for him”, “how sick they all were about hearing about her”, “how he could do better” and “does she know how lucky she is?” All of these statements made me ask the above question again and again, what has it got to do with them? And why if they loved this band so much can they not be happy for them and respect their private lives. In reality I couldn’t find the answer to my question anywhere maybe there isn’t one. I know reading this back to myself it might sound like I am attacking one group of people which is not what I set out to do in anyway and I might be wrong it might happen with other bands. But this situation keeps making me think of a line by the Academy is song classified: - “when every single move that I make is documented and scored for style points” Also I still do not know why people over step the mark, all I do know is I found sympathy not just for this band but anyone in the public eye, who have the personal life ripped apart by people who they owe nothing to. Going back to the subject of H.I.M whatever they decide to do in the future the melting pot would like to wish them all the love and support in the world.

Emma Bond

Eurovision spEcial

THE SHOE OF KNOWLEDGE

The first song ever performed at the Eurovision Song Contest is De vogels van

Holland by Jetty Pearl.

In 1969 there were four winners: France, Spain, The Netherlands and The UK. The Scandinavian countries were very upset. They said that the jury-system had failed

and they boycotted the 1970 contest.

Every year an estimated amount of 125 million viewers watch the Eurovision Song Contest

In 2011 contest, Lena, the winner of the 2010 Eurovision Song Contest, decided

to defend her title on home ground - something only two people have done in

the history of the contest

Norway could be found at the bottom of the list as many as ten times! The

unfortunates came last in 1963, 1969, 1974, 1976, 1978, 1981, 1990, 1997, 2001

and 2004. Nevertheless, they also won thrice in 1985, 1995 and 2009

The most points ever scored was 292 by Finnish rock group Lordi with

‘Hard Rock Hallelujah’

You are more likely to win if you are a solo female artist. Throughout the years, there have been 27 female winners and

only 7 men

Eurovision is just around the corner, which is being held this year in the picturesque city of Düsseldorf. so us at the melting pot are getting our “camp on” in homage to cheesiest music contest which isn’t judge by simon cowell!!

I’m sitting here writing this singing along to ABBA mamma mia and the question has to be asked what will you be doing for Eurovision? I myself will be away with my nearest and dearest friends down by the sea in a little cottage, with the telly on full blast singing along badly and playing drinking games.

I took the advantage of asking some people what they will be doing on Eurovision night this year....

Rachel owen, Meltingpot Editor. watching it at home with the family - and laughing myself to death as we fail horrendously.

Danny Hynes, vocalist of paddy Goes to Holyhead. As I'm Irish, I'll probably be drunk and cheering on Jedward!!

Jemble of 100% Balls. I have to admit I've not taken any notice of Eurovision this year, don't know who our entry is! one thing I do know is the single best Euro song of all time was 'The 80s coming Back' by an Estonian entry in something like 2003, called Rufus. It came near-last, because it was such a good song it simply didn’t belong in there.

craig, vocalist of A secret Beyond Belief.well... I'll probably be watching Eurovision like I do every year; it's always good to see what song each country chooses to represent them

Malcolm Dome of Total Rock/Metal Hammer. I shall doubtless be in the crobar.

whatever you are going to be doing May 14th, I hope you’re going to have as much fun as I am going to have!

Funeral For a FriendThe Quireboys

heaven’s basemenTThe TreaTmenT

sainT JudeJeTTblack

Girlschool deborah bonham

livin in a valvesTaTe and our innocence losT

www.devonrox.com www.ticketmaster.co.uk www.powderham.co.uk

devon roX The UK’s newest open-air rock music event.

AUGUST 6th - 7th 2011

To be held at Powderham Castle, near Exeter, over the weekend of August 6 - 7th. A second stage will showcase local and unsigned

talent. Situated beside the Exe estuary and set in the middle of a deer park, it is a unique and fabulous setting for a festival.

Early bird (limited number) just £45. Weekend camping ticket priced at only £55 thereafter.

Children under 14 years and accompanied by an adult, go free!

SuedeHat Review

owing to the fact that April has the highest concentration of bank holidays of any month and combine that with an additional national holiday in celebration of a royal wedding I found myself with an abundance of free time this month, which means rather than reviewing whatever was on at the cinema one day before the article was due I actually got a selection of movies to choose from.

I was initially going to review sucker punch but I doubted it would still be playing anywhere when this review went public and I would look ridiculously behind the curve. so instead I’m going to review Limitless so you have to listen to me discuss drug issues rather than burlesque dancers fighting samurai, dragons and clockwork nazis. seriously, go and see sucker punch – it like three movies in one!

we begin, as always, with the premise. Eddie Morra (played by Bradley Cooper) is a down on his luck writer who, after a chance encounter with his brother-in-law, acquires an experimental drug which grants him superhuman intelligence and talent for a limited time. while under the effects of the drug Morra

is able to finish his book, make millions on the stock market and win back the heart of his girlfriend Lindy (Abbie Cornish). It isn’t long however before Morra discovers that he is being followed by a mysterious killer intent on claiming the wonder drugs for his own purposes.

You may have noticed that Robert De niro was mysteriously absent from that little plot summary which is strange considering his name is on all the posters and he appears in all the trailers telling Morra that he basically owns him. well this isn’t an oversight on my part, but an oversight on the part of the movie as De niro is barely in it. now normally I wouldn’t kick up too much of a fuzz over this, after all trailers are well known for using lines of dialogue and scenes which never actually appear in the movie but where you take a big name actor, make trailers depicting him as an antagonist, and then have him appear in all of about 15 minutes of running time you’re just flat out lying to people.

In addition to the distinct lack of De niro am I the only one who thinks that for a movie about a man with a four digit IQ Morra sure does a lot of flat out stupid

things? As an example Morra borrows a huge sum of cash from a loan shark who threatens the slice his belly open and wrap it around his head until he suffocates if he doesn’t pay him back. Morra then goes on to quadruple his money in a single day and forgets to pay the loan shark back. I mean wow. I appreciate that this happened so there would be some form of tension in the later acts but when you have the audience shouting at Morra’s idiocy like he’s the busty blond in a horror movie who runs upstairs to get away from the killer you have failed somewhere.

of course all these issues are dropped to the wayside when the finale rolls around. The final resolution was such a surprise to me I had to take a few moments to check I hadn’t zoned out and dreamt up my own ending. This is obviously going to be a spoiler for the end of the movie so you should probably stop reading if you care about that sort of thing. putting it simply;

Morra wins.

As the credits roll Morra has more money than god, a beautiful wife who adores him and is well on his way to becoming leader of the most powerful country in the world. All because of drugs. That is awesome. colour me jaded but when I watch a movie with drugs as the main plot point I am so used to the user ending up dead or struggling to overcome his addiction that the simple act of him not only breaking even but coming out on top took me completely by surprise. If nothing else this made the movie for me.

This has been a suedeHat review. until next time forget what the psA’s told you; winners do do drugs. Apparently.

Apollo 18

A personal pet peeve of mine is movies that claim to use ‘unedited footage’ or be ‘based on true events’. This is especially true when your movie is about astronauts being attacked by midget aliens while staring into hand-held cameras. Your basically making Blair witch in space. Accept it.

Priest

‘priest’ follows an undead priest who makes a pact with satan to return to earth and claim vengeance against the fallen angels who killed him. At least that’s the plot of the book this movie is loosely based on. If by loosely I mean remove all details from the book and make it into a dime-a-dozen crappy vampire hunter movie. I’m not bitter.

Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides

oh hoo-bloody-ray more action with the world’s most unnecessarily camp pirate. wait what? knightley and Bloom aren’t in it? Hot damn! now all we need is for Rush to kill Depp 5 minutes in and were all set for a decent movie! oh and bring back the kraken while you’re at it; it was the best thing about the second movie.

Morpheus I name him and unto me he comes, the sliver of ice and the banishment of the rational for the strange eddy of a mind unclouded by structures of men. o’er me looms the steeple of a nameless church, I mark it as one from my childhood, saint someone, their deeds great and obscure, a name erased by the passing of time’s arrow.

I follow it down a lane of mud. Tracks worn by cart and horse lead me between fields that raise golden, fall to the falx and lie fallow as the lord to be risen once more from beneath the gentle veil of frost. I too change and see myself in seasons that fade to folly and disappear like the cart and horse beneath wet cobbles and the call of the publican.

who am I now? Myself or a younger manifestation. Indeed is this now at all, or is it a time before the present, a time before the harrowing of my spirit. I see her, pale faced and thin lipped, hair dark like the soil of home. I remember her, earthy, elemental. set in rigid form even as years swell and wash around her, as I drift away for lands beneath heathen suns.

I seek her now as I sought her then. The pang of desperate longing tempered by a fear that has grown, finding root in my pain. It is the bramble between my fingers that no leverage can remove. I see her as she is now, an outline of smoke, the merest suggestion of what should be. Gone.

A girl saw her in the street. I stand there in the darkness, or stood there and now only recall the feeling of something dragging me on. My feet find me before the dreamer loosens his hold on me, and through the fog I feel myself compelled towards the river. no boatman do I heed, nor bribe with the price of my sight. I follow the chain of gas-lamps, like fireflies marking the boundary of a path I know I must walk.

Indecision is fleeting, quelled completely by my liquid companion. His courage courses through my veins, hardening my heart against such rebellious thoughts. My limbs feel leaden, dying by degrees as the borders of my resolve fall and regroup. I stand aside them, red-coated and afraid as a tide of demons squeal and dance amongst the long grass.

I steer my ship towards an island of light and noise. As I draw closer perfumed breath draws upon me and hands guide me inwards. I am seated on cushions of satin or silk or else some other exotic contrivance. For a moment I see her before me before my sight returns. There is a woman yes, but she is not mine. she presses something into my hand but I do not look. I do not see.

Around me lie forms prone and naked, rising as the Andes. Each hand and mouth bearing with it the form of the lotus, that dread companion of the dreamer that ensnares the mind and dulls the body. Here and there the courtesans of the island pass petals between the lips of their willing subjects, eyes of glass regarding nothing save the emptiness of their own mind.

For a moment the petal in my hand is as heavy as lead. oblivion calls to me, to silence all thought and to go down amongst the stillness and silence of my fellows and be consumed by the hunger. It is a single moment that stretches unto eternity, a dread lingering until cold, misted air forces its way into my lungs. Morpheus cradles me, and I spill my bile into the gutter.

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ey I am adrift. The fog has come now and it is not all my own. no lighthouse to guide me I throw the dice and trust in fate or providence or the will of the lord to see me through. no prayer comes to mind, nor to my lips. I am robbed of scripture and verse and possess only naked veneration, a hope shorn of practice and reading.

Perhaps it is perverse that I find this somehow more potent than the long wait amongst the pews. Let me not be the passenger of another’s devotions, let me set my own course unto the kingdom.

A boat looms out of the darkness, black on the oily darkness that is the river. The docks I surmise. Blank shapes seem without texture in the darkness, as if everything has been painted with the same smoothness. It is unreal, a place I see and at once dream. Each footfall walks the arteries of the dream. I can feel my mind sliding sideways and in desperation reach out to steady myself.

A man marks me as a drunkard, and I him as a brigand. His clothes are that of a seaman, though his face is that of a thug, pock marked with scars and a single bright eye that follows me as I try to stagger away. My body betrays me and I fall, clinging to a wall I did not see. He is close now. I smell brine and sweat and smoke as he asks my name. I am nobody. I tell him so as he falls upon me.

I find myself somewhere else. Still myself in the present, but watching as he thrashes my prone form and drags me manfully into the darkness. Fog closes around us and out of boredom I wonder if I am dead. It is but a phase as I pass through darkness and awaken into dreadful light. The dreamer has abandoned me and left only regret. I lie on my side, my mouth dry, my teeth clinging to my gums. I cannot yet feel my wounds but know that too will come.

I am alone in a room with a lamp and a door. It has the odd smell of something chemical, something I cannot describe. I am bound and gagged and left here. Moments pass into minutes, minutes into an eternity. I am blind to the eddies of time with neither sun nor moon to guide me. All I can do is reach within myself to find what spark of courage still resides.

I sleep and dream of my rocking horse, and of the boy who first beat me in a fight. I am a child again and the world is good.

I wake and I am a man and the world is full of darkness and the evil of other men. They see me stir and I see them. The one eyed man is servant though to coin only. His master is thin and calloused, his manner that of a rodent. He examines me as if I am a crumb fallen from the table between the crack of a floorboard.

He speaks words I have not the wit to hear though I sense some dark enterprise in them and fear what is to happen. His man finds humour in my plight and I am carefully not to catch his eye lest he revisit upon me the beating I received by the water. They close a door upon me and I am in darkness, the victim of a prank with no punch line, I am a boy again trapped by my fellows in the coke shed. Then and now I sob and curse until my throat is hoarse.

I lay in darkness and pass through despair. For a moment I dare to hope that Morpheus has returned to bring me salvation, but find only myself staring back in the darkness. I listed to the footfalls of my captors; they pass on stairs and creak on floorboards. It is a tattoo counting the hours until my death, for I know without knowing that this will be my fate. never shall I see my love again, may she not join me beyond the veil too soon, may she live when even the men of the yard have abandoned her.

Each moment that passes steels my resolve. I know now that I must chance my hand, even bound as I am, lay upon cold floorboards. I pass through into an uneasy dream and wake only when one-eye returns to hoist me to my feet. I try to thrash against him; he strikes me for my impertinence.

we roam a house, along a hallway cracked and peeling. Here is the damp, here are the rats, here a one eyed man leads a man punch drunk. curtains are drawn, gas lamps do little to banish the enforced twilight. Beyond the curtains day may yet reign, yet I cannot see it, cloistered here in darkness and hush in this house of the damned. what manner of men could my captors be? I imagine them spiriting away the living into the chambers of the dead, to sell them on for the churgeon’s coin.

My snatched body is halted on a landing, one eye holds me by the collar and bids me mind my step, and then it seizes me, a resolve almost mad. I half step and lunge into him. I have no hands to grip, only weight to drive me forward. The world is in motion, as it spins on its axis so we spin against it, a rushing whorl of colour. There are flashes of light and the uneven beat of a hollow drum then the splintering of wood.

I am bleeding, my head thunders. once we stood at the top, but now the brute lies beneath me, his eye glassy regards the moment of his passing. I wonder if he sees me even now as I pluck from him the key that holds my salvation. As once the Hebrew did, so now do I shed my shackles and walk the desert of the terrible home. A wall holds me steady even as my feet fail me, I slump against it and accept its coolness.

He is returning now, like a ghost, though now he wears my face as if a grotesque mask. still I follow him, down the hall and through a door.

P.B JoURNAL

He wishes me to see something, I tarry in my escape to follow his guidance, for e’er has he seen me wrong? we come to a large room, dark but large. windowless and oppressive, it has a pungent fragrance, something I barely recognise, something funereal. A table resides here; I pick from it a scalpel and see a needle and thread, cutting implements I recognise not and jars of foul smelling fluid. Nearby stands a mannequin and upon it a suit and tails, I approach it and then it speaks.

‘It is your size.’ It tells me. Then I realize it says nothing at all.

I turn to see him, my captor, and architect of my fate. He crosses the floor to me, I am faint in his presence and feel the floor rise to meet me as I fall to me knees. It is as if I attend some dark mass, attended by my rodent priest, he speaks and I listen, ever the good parishioner. He speaks of a wedding and reveals he is a tailor. His god is perfection; his church is its pursuit. The suit he says is perfection, but perfection can only be attained through its union with the perfect wearer.

I should be flattered, he tells me. I should be honoured, as was she. There are a pair of doors I did not see, he crosses to them but I know what I will see; the bride. My bride. She is as beautiful as the very first day I met her, clad in pure white and veiled, I yearn to rush to her but can find no strength in my body. She is now a woman preserved, mummified in her finery. Morpheus has robbed me of my dream and given it to this madman. My only way to join her now is to accept my fate, to let this monster claim me an install me be-side my beloved.

I am broken, I let my body sag and listen as he crosses the floor. I look up and see the needle in his hand, a wee dram of the dreamer’s madness. He grows wide-eyed and stares at me, fury etched on his face. I follow the line of his eyes and see my own hand at his side, the scalpel in his side drawing out a blossom of red liquid. He staggers and falls panting to the floor and finally he comes to me once more, Morpheus the traitor. Yet as I regard him he changes and I see he is not Morpheus at all, but a bride shining bright as the darkness comes to claim me.

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LIFE UNDER THE ToP HAT

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