Three Short Films to Hypnotise

  Heartbeats and skateboards.

The Indian government once unwittingly funded experimental film.

                                            

Canadians recently restored a hand-painted film.

The Perfect Pair of Black Jeans

There is nothing more elusive, more chimeric, or more enigmatic than the Black Jeans beast. Trying to find one is not a problem—trying to find the perfect one is nigh on impossible.

Men have it far too easy. I wish I could look as devastatingly perfect in a pair of tight black jeans as they do. Actually, maybe not exactly like they do. A number of men have jeans so tight that I honestly worry about the circulation to their dangly bits. It can’t be healthy, smooshing your balls up against a pair of black jeans and going out in the sun. No oxygen can reach them. Surely even sperm incased in testicles encased in scrotum need space every now and then? If the birth rate is falling, I think you can look to the perfect-yet-physically-debilitating black jeans for that.

But on to my hunt. I explained to the girl in the first shop my predicament, my predicament being that as a woman I HAVE HIPS LIKE EVERY OTHER WOMAN. This is a disability when needing new jeans. She looked at me and said; ‘we’ve got jeans for that.’ Hosanna, hey sanna! A cure! Alas it wasn’t to be. They didn’t. I tried on every pair of black jeans they had. No black jeans for hips like mine.

The second shop turned out to have a lot more range than the other store. I stood in front of the bank of jeans in wonder, awe and just a little bit of fear. At least the colour was decided. But then there was the choice between boot cut, tube, straight, skinny, stovepipe, wide, second skin, mid-rise, low-rise, high-rise, Brazilian rise…. With the added factor that high-rise isn’t actually high-rise anymore, it’s mid-rise so people don’t get confused. What? But changing it confuses me! Have all our rises sunk a level or two? When did this happen? I blame the hip-bone crushing low-rise-skinny era myself.

People try and tell me I have a classic hourglass figure. I see it more as a pear shape, or like a slightly meaty hen. I also wonder how ‘hourglass figure’ was described before the invention of the hourglass. You look like a particularly fine boulder I once saw. You undulate like sand dunes, only upended and not so gritty. I don’t quite know what you look like, but someone should invent something like it soon to make the descriptive process more straightforward.

In any case, I have found no black jeans. The perfect pair remains elusive. However, because of the confounding nature of the store layout and indeed the whole retail experience more generally, I did buy something. It was a pair of jeans. They are navy blue, of that high-rise-that’s-really-mid-rise variety. The experience almost made me cry; I went in intending to stay strong. NO, I thought, I AM SPARTACUS AND SPARTACUS NEEDS BLACK JEANS. Instead I bought a ridiculous pair of jeans completely contrary to my colour preference and shape. Damn you denim. Damn you to the murky depths of fabric hell.

Art Leading Art Makes The Whole World See

The Flaneur Is Alive In Paris

This video shows street mapping in Paris, with a fantastic projection for help. The flaneur is still alive. He has just traded his turtle for a tiger.

A 'Fro By Any Other Name....

What Not To Do In A Mosh Pit

Mosh pits have a very specific smell. The overriding odour is underarm, followed by spilt alcohol, weed, the sweat of hundreds of strangers and- if you’re really unlucky- blood and semen. If your olfactory senses move past these immediate batterings, you will soon notice the behaviour of your fellow mosh-pitians. Don’t get me wrong, I love the rock and roly-poly of the mosh pit; the dirt, the dehydration, the lost shoes. What I don’t love is a lack of consideration of your fellow mosh-pitians, trying to run around inside a crowd being the most abhorrent. Think about it; running around inside a crowd. Fool boys.

Worse than even this senseless violence is the senseless un-mosh pit behaviour visible when you dig deeper into the sweaty flanks of your fellow music fans. Read the list and be repulsed.

Snuggle: Love is grand. It really is. But there is no place for it in a mosh pit. As tempted as you may be to give a reassuring cuddle to your beloved, or give them a bear hug, hold their hand, or perform a series of vomit-inducing budgie kisses, please refrain. What would be more appropriate? Jumping on your partner, wrapping your legs around them and sticking your tongue down their throat. Nothing says mosh pit like tight black jeans and a bulging package.

Continental Greetings: Kissing both of someone’s cheeks (facial of course) is a common and accepted practice amongst most of the cooler European countries. If you do it in a wine bar, a French Film Festival, an art opening or an awards ceremony you will fit right in. If you do it in a mosh pit, you will look like a wanker. Appropriate greetings for a mosh pit are either a single nod, or a non-waving hand- or beer- raise.

Beyonce Moves: Jumping up and down and dancing madly is exactly what is desired of a mosh pit partaker. You don’t have to be moving in time to the music all the time, which is an unspoken rule put into place for those more inebriated music lovers. What is categorically repulsive is choreography and wild pelvic movements which ideally would have died out with Elvis. The mosh is about your arms and your head; Beyonce is about hips and arse. Learn the difference.

Conversations: In an ideal mosh, you won’t be able to hear anything except the music. Sometimes not even the music; all you will hear is delicious ear-splitting guitar-y feedback. Nevertheless, you will encounter people who cannot wait for the between-bands downtime in order to discuss things with those around them. Often people who think it’s okay to talk in a mosh pit also have loud, obnoxious voices and will give dirty looks to the performers on stage, as if they were interrupting their deep and meaningful. In an ideal world, these people would be shot on sight.

Wear A Hat: Besides the impracticality of hat-wearing (if shoes can get lost then hats are an immediate write-off), there is no health benefit to wearing one in a mosh pit. The dirt and sweat you will be covered in will give you a natural sunscreen in any case, and a hat will become an encumbrance for you and for those around you. Particularly offensive hat types are; the fedora (too hipster), the floppy rasta hat (reggae died with Bob Marley), the boater (too nouveau riche) and the beanie (too hip hop).

Drink Wine: Music that goes with wine include jazz, blues (if it’s red wine), folk (if it’s white wine) and particular forms of nouveau country (if it’s that wine that comes in foil bags). Mosh pits and wine do not mix. Appropriate beverages for the mosh pit include beer, bourbon, bourbon closely followed by beer or your own blood once someone has accidentally hit you in the face during vigorous moshing.

Compare: This goes for comparing one band to another band, or the same band to a previous gig of theirs. Especially irritating are phrases such as; ‘I saw them when they were first starting out. They were better then,’ ‘It doesn’t sound like it does on the album,’ ‘I like their old stuff better than their new stuff,’ and ‘I liked those guys who were on before this.’ Each band is different and unique and each gig is different and unique. You don’t have to like every gig, but keep your opinions to your home life.

There Is Nothing Trashy About Tattooed Women