The worst part was I had to follow a guy who I had met on the traps many years previously and had prayed I'd never meet again. Back then he'd got himself on the committee of a video festival and my seven submissions were mysteriously rejected. I know I'm always on about getting fucked over but it's one of the most tedious things about life, having to be diplomatic with those who once not only burnt your aspirations to the ground, they then pissed on you to put out the fire. This particular dickhead's reading was so boring he scared away what little audience we'd lured to the joint. To be polite, I sat through his verbal vomit, an honor he didn't grant me, to my relief, I'd rather shout into the empty wind.
To reiterate, one of the through-lines of this Blog is the hard life of the try-hard iconoclast artist. If you really rock the boat then you get fucked and don't have a career, only apologists, inane surrealists and abstract expressionists that talk about nothing get encouragement by a State that's in lockstep with High Capitalist demands. For instance, on global warming, those who run the world, such as multinational corps, fund climate skeptics because having to clean up their pollution would reduce their profits.
Me and my friends are perfecting our act, we hit the mark, and then pushed it further and, repeat, got very high doing it. My 70 year old mate Brian switched on some synthesized tabla and sitar machines that provided a background canvas of droning white noise, and then played flute over the top of it to the accompaniment of my best mate Paul Vassalo playing electric guitar so smooth and ecstatic I went into Nirvana while I told my funky story, “A Numb Bum in Nimbin.” And it's all about how I love to smoke mellow cannabis.
I noticed the eyeballs pop on this one arts-hole in the audience, a year later he’d formed his own group, The Either Orchestra, performing a similar act only his animations were apolitical, cute, inane, arty-farty abstract, just the kind of crap the State Arts Funding bodies adore, they threw lots of money at him for awhile, till he ran out of steam, being unoriginal, he couldn’t keep coming up with the goods, though he did get a job teaching it.