rfbooth.com :: blog archives

Moments in time, preserved to embarrass me later.

22-10-2002 (archived)

More earthquakes. Bored now.

What happens when you put dry ice in a plane's toilet at 33,000 feet?

In place of the commode roars a fluorescent blue waterfall, a huge, heaving cascade of toilet fluid thrust waist-high into the air and splashing into all four corners of the lavatory. Pouring from the top of this volcano, like smoke out of a factory chimney, is a rapidly spreading pall of what looks like steam.

I simply can't resist saying “shit happens” here. I know, I've tried. (Via JWZ).

23-10-2002 (archived)

I spent today over at Vinny's place, just hanging out with a great guitar player, talking about the music business, and admiring his new (still in progress) rack. I feel much better, and also like I need to practice.

I'm not, after all, going to see Rob's band this weekend after all, since we got booked for a short-notice gig at The Hindley Arms on Saturday night. Come and see us, it's fun.

24-10-2002 (archived)

More small earthquakes. I never thought I'd find earthquakes boring. How quickly we jade.

Our gig for this weekend got un-booked again, so I'm back on the AC/DO guestlist in Ashton. Go see them, they're fun.


This week's movie review is Red Dragon. It doesn't suck anything like as hard as you'd think from most reviews; we felt it was worth the time to sit through it. Edward Norton looks disturbingly like a young Robert Redford, though. I also thought the bescarred Mr Fiennes looked a great deal like a younger Harrison Ford with a similar scar would have, but my companion for the evening informs me I'm either insane or blind.

My drink leaked, so I came out slightly sticky and smelling of oranges. I concede that this is not the fault of the film, but it was an extra distraction. This may well be the kind of film best enjoyed while distracted, actually.


Porn the most censored type of net content at work? Well I'll be damned. I'd have guessed it was candyfloss recipes.

Woman drops gun in toilet, accidentally shooting herself in buttock. This probably is an “only in America” story, don't you think?

28-10-2002 (archived)

HOWTO: Kill your Friend and Steal his Girlfriend. Any piece that has lines like

You: Her breasts are of excellent proportion and volume. I find yours to be of comparable quality.

Her: Thanks!

has got to be worth reading, no?


In other news, nuclear reactors are not unnatural. Apparently.

Remember the Macarena? I wish I didn't. Here comes a new generation of infuriating crap to make us twitchy. (Both via Boing Boing.)

29-10-2002 (archived)

The next-generation disc is nearly here - and I still don't have a DVD player! Oh well, I suppose I can probably skip that generation of toys...

More tour diaries: Jordan Rudess, Neal Morse. Both pretty readable, though not as superb as the Keneally ones.

Guitar linkage: tapping lessons from Vibetronic (one of the scariest shred machines I know) and Schmange. Enjoy, and don't hurt yourselves.

1-11-2002 (archived)

This week's movie review is xXx. Dumb but fun. Cage is a much better action/secret agent star than Bond ever was, to my taste, the stunts are spectacular, and the soundtrack is suitably loud and adrenaline-packed. Well worth a fiver and a bucket of popcorn as long as you don't take it at all seriously. Fortunately, it doesn't take itself at all seriously, so it's very entertaining.

I'm off to Wigan for the weekend now, a weekend that will include gigging in front of forty or fifty other guitar players. Yay!

4-11-2002 (archived)

Well, the Wigan weekend was utterly splendid. I met several people who'd been near the top of my want-to-meet-in-meatspace list for a long time; in particular (and no offence to any others), the utterly stunningly great Jon Boyes. I need to learn to play classical guitar now.

The Saturday night gig went well, all in all; a sympathetic audience willing you to succeed is a goodly thing, and helped to make up for the moderate terror that some of our number experienced performing in front of forty or fifty guitarists, and a video camera operated by the lovely Mr Simpson. We soon settled, and by the second half we were actually doing ourselves justice.

Of course, following the massively talented Clive Murray didn't help. He rose above such minor obstacles as a skipping CD of backing tracks and his floorboard/fx unit blowing up just before he was due on stage with utter professionalism, and played his set using my rig. Despite the fact that we both use JEMs, and the rest of our rig was identical right down to using the same cable and identical plectrums, and we used the same patches on my setup, we still had quite different tones. It's all in the fingers - it may be a cliche, but it got that way by being true.

Anyway, if you haven't, you should buy Clive's CD right now. (Declaration of interest: I am a partner in, and treasurer of, Earthmen Records.)

You should also come and see us next weekend; we're playing the Talbot in Wrexham (an utterly superb venue) on Friday, sadly sans James, and the rather spiffing Griffin Hotel in Newton-le-Willows on Saturday (sans Justin). Watch me covering different sets of parts each night! See the panic in my eyes! Laugh at my fear!

5-11-2002 (archived)

i don't think this guy is going to shoot the president or kill my cat, but it's still worthwhile to talk about and document what it's like when these things happen. because they can happen to anyone, anytime.

The diary of a stalking. Read it, talk about it, think about it. (Via Oblomovka.)


One could say that the connection between that tradition and the new, GNU generation, is like the relationship between Muslim antiquity and the Nation of Islam: a heritage adopted to solidify an alienation, rather than a tradition. But, just as importantly, that alienation dictates the vitality of the movement. Rudderless, still young, and distrustful of authority, Gates' bastard children injected the emotional charge into the technical culture that so many still insist it lacks.

One *could* say that.

From some past and future cliches about Linux, by Danny O'Brien.

6-11-2002 (archived)

This week's movie review is 28 days later. It's a horror film, sort of; but what it's really about, for me, is people's responses to an extreme situation, and the breakdown of normal society.

It's also about atmosphere. One of the more visually striking films I've seen recently, it's totally believable and immersive. As my companion pointed out, the grainy shot-on-video look and the restrained, take-your-time approach to the action at the beginning gave it an unusual, very effective feel. The arthouse vibe this gives is rather tarnished by the fairly blatant product placement (though on nothing like the scale that infested Spiderman).

Some critics have accused the film of misogyny and “ultra-darwinism” in the second half, but I would argue that to think that is to completely miss the point - that these are things that can very easily surface when civilisation breaks down. These aren't the values the film is expressing, quite the opposite if anything. The portrait of an officer who cares deeply for his men and nothing for anything else is familiar, but still effective.

There's quite a bit of rather graphic violence, but this is somehow not a violent film - there's no revelling in the gore, it's simply the way the events unfold. It's really refreshing, in these days when American films are rarely more than 15 certificates and usually 12As, to see a film made for grownup people - one where you don't find yourself thinking “ok, this guy would definitely swear more than that.”

I thoroughly recommend it. It'll make you jump, though not excessively; it'll make you care about the characters, without ever being blatantly manipulative; and, if you let it, it'll make you think.


Enough being sensible.

“Can't you put the swab in further?”

“My whole body smells like a menstruating woman, especially my armpits.”

Overheard at the STD clinic. (Via several places; I saw it first on JWZ.)

7-11-2002 (archived)

An unusual dinner idea, just down the road from me: naked girls for tables.

The Samsi Japanese restaurant in Manchester is charging £75 to eat food placed on the bodies of two nude women.

Kit-Ying, from Alderley Edge, Cheshire, added: “I'm glad they're only serving cold food on me.”

You know, I don't think I'm hungry any more. (Via Davezilla.)


Would that t'were so... (warning: breasts). Sadly, she's not loyal.

(Via Davezilla.)