wriggler

EROS MUTINY proudly presents

Dossie Easton Workshop 18/19 July 2009

RADICAL ECSTACY
“SM Journeys To Transcendence”

Saturday 18th & Sunday 19th July, 2009, Dublin, Ireland

Dossie Easton, renowned American sex educator and co-author of The Ethical Slut, visits Dublin this July to share the first Irish presentation of Radical Ecstacy.



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Stolen from Graham Linehan's blog (http://whythatsdelightful.wordpress.com/):

"...the more people who see it, the better. It’s The Revolution Will Not Be Televised, a documentary by two Irish film-makers, Kim Bartley and Donnacha O’Briain. While filming a profile of Hugo Chavez in 2002, they were lucky enough to be right in the centre of things when the coup kicked off, and the result is just thrilling. Watching how Chavez’s opponents use lies, intimidation and violence to depose a democratically-elected, hugely popular leader is gripping enough, but when the tide turns, and the people rise up to re-take control, it’s enough to get you cheering.
I know it’s a pain in the arse to watch lengthy things like this on a computer monitor, but once you get ten minutes in, you won’t be able to turn it off. Viva Chavez! Viva Venezuela!"

I will add that it doesn't give the full picture of the whole events of those historical days in April 2002. That is not its agenda, as it is made from the perspective of the two Irish filmmakers who were right in the centre of it all. It has also been criticised for transplanting chronology of footage. Nonetheless, this riveting and moving documentary concisely displays the power of the mass media and the importance of knowing who owns it. Also known as 'Chavez: Inside The Coup'.

Check it out:
http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=5832390545689805144

As requested by some enterprising folks, our wee event happenings in Dublin: www.nimhneach.ie

We're home safe in Dublin. Lovely juicy pix & blatherings to come.

Now, ssssssssslllleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeppppppppppzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

If you

Hey nonny-nonny, I just did two days as an extra on the American Showtime series, The Tudors, about young Henry VIII and his shenanigans. One day at Drimnagh Castle and yesterday in Christchurch cathedral. It was good fun, if occasionally boring while waiting for takes. About 60 extras were needed for some scenes, so there we were dressed as 16th century courtiers, counsellors, ladies-in-waiting, maidens, wenches, middle-classes and The Poor.

I was a courtier, who'd be hanging out in court and trying to curry favour with Henry. Costume was stockings, big bulbous short trousers, knee-high leather boots and a many-buttoned tight jacket to match trousers. And a loose hip-length cape over the shoulder. Bit laborious to even have a piss. Also I have a beard, which I rather like and think I'll keep for a while. I'm almost certain I was very visible in a few shots yesterday - what's the point being an extra if you cannae see yourself in at least one shot?

For those who may be interested, the first series is due to be shown on this side of the pond in the autumn. They're making series two now. It's short on total fact, but wild on intrigue. It's been a big hit, I hear, portraying Henry 8th as a spoilt sly bastard, romping, fucking, and killing whomever crosses him. Johnathan Rhys Meyers plays Henry. Jeremy Northam plays Thomas More - he was funny on-set. More info here: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0758790/ And theresome clips on Youtube too.

Need I report about the plentiful heaving bosoms on-set? And some of the hunky guys lolling about? Shite money, btw, but I'm in for another 6:30am start tomorrow and shall endeavour to get a few pix.

Last night, while catching up on lost sleep after a oops-where's-my-compass lost weekend, I dreamed of people from BiCon. Lots smiling faces. It was good to see some familiar people. There were also unfamiliar people. Perhaps they were previous attendees whom I haven't met, or future attendees whom I've yet to meet. It was good to have such a dream in the depths of winter.

Hi-de-ho to all ye Rubber Ball people. Somebody out there must be going. Any news or reports would be appreciated! Something to spice up our Monday. Or/and Tuesday?

Gotta git behind the mule.

'night

xx

I just heard the news we were half-expecting. One of my sister-in-law's unborn twins, a boy, has died in vitreo at 28 weeks. Poor little guy had serious spina bifida & heart problems. This does leave the other twin, a girl, with the danger of being premature, but also that they can focus on her welfare now. They would like her to pass 32 weeks before birth occurs.

It's a terrible loss.

My thoughts and prayers are for the boy who didn't get a chance to breath air, even once. May he have better fortune next time. My thoughts and prayers for my dear brother, sister-in-law and their girl to be born.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OE5fIoveLoM

For anyone who listens to music or jackhammers.

Oh my Gawd. The Wicker Man redone by Neil LaBute with Nicholas Cage is a flop. C'est terrible. It's all wrong. And that's not just an opinion - it's a fact. No wonder the distributors didn't allow press screenings. Eeghad! It sucks. It's just... off the mark completely. All the way through. LaBute has gotten rid of the Pagan Vs Christianity theme of the original film and has replaced it with his favoured gender politics (yawn - enough already!). He really doesn't seem to understand Paganism, for one thing.

I can't get those two wasted hours back. But you can. Don't see it!

Dublin rains. Off to see remake of The Wicker Man. No Woodward nor Lee, but let's see how LaBute treats it, shall we?

TEN KEYS TO HAPPINESS

1.
Listen to you body’s wisdom, which expresses itself through the signals of comfort and discomfort. When choosing a certain behaviour, ask you body, “How do you feel about this?” If the body sends a signal of physical and emotional distress – watch out! If the body responds with joy and comfort – go for it!

2.
Live in the moment. The present is the only moment you have. Have you attention on what IS and its fullness in every moment. Have psychological acceptance totally and completely that this present moment is as it should be. How could it be otherwise? Don’t struggle against the universe.

3.
Take time to be silent, to quiet the internal dialogue, to be guided by your intuition, rather than externally imposed interpretations of what is or is not good.

4.
Relinquish your need for approval. There is great freedom in that choice.

5.
When you find yourself reacting with anger or violence to any person, situation, or circumstance-recognise that you struggle only against yourself. Don’t be so hard on yourself.

6.
Know that those you react to strongly, whether you love them or hate them, are reflections of yourself. Use the mirror of relationship to guide your own spiritual evolution.

7.
Shed the burden of judgement – you will feel much lighter.

8.
Don’t contaminate your body with toxins - either through food, drink, or toxic emotions.

9.
Replace fear-motivated behaviour with love-motivated behaviour.

10.
Understand that the physical world mirrors the process of our own consciousness. Cleaning up the environment and getting rid of the toxic wastes and dumps that contaminate our earth, rivers, and oceans is worthwhile, but even more important is the flushing out of toxic ideas that contaminate the human mind.


...I'm working especially on no's 2, 3, 4, 5, 7 & 8 - in fact, all of them.

Unless a lotto win changes things, I shall be starting work Tuesday week. Yes, I've done it. Where & what it is shall remain secret, just in case it turns out shite.

Did the gigs in Limerick & Listowel. Around 10 kind people came in Limerick (lovely venue - Dolan's Upstairs) incl. drummer from The Cranberries. I wasn't happy with my performance cos we arrived late from Dublin. Only 10min soundcheck. No time for getting comfortable. Balls to that. Anyway, my ego was more disappointed cos I didn't play well enough to get a compliment from Cranberries drummer. But then again, I simply must FUCKED in the head to be fishing for compliments from (no offence Fergal) a member of a shite band.

The gig in Listowel was memorable, if only for bizarre reasons. The venue, St John's Church, is gorgeous. All restored stone walls and paintings exhibited on the wall (lots of female nude portraits - quite strange in an ex-church). There was a funeral on in the town's main church across the road, so everyone seemed to be going to that. We got 12 people coming, plus the rather cute lassie who was doing the door takings. The average age of the punters was 102. One guy looked like Gandalf, I swear, sans beard et robe. They clapped, very much out of duty and said afterwards "Ooh, My daughter would have liked that kind of thing." Thing being singer-songwriter acoustic/electric with some bass and beats.

All of which is fascinating, no doubt, to you, treasured reader.

Anyway, we then left Listowel at 10pm and made it back to Dublin by 2am. Stopped at Chinese outside Limerick and ate some truly revolting food. I swear, the Chinese want to end up making all our clothes, then setting up awful take aways to make us puke on their clothes, then make us buy more of said clothes. Should gone to greasy burger joint next door.

Anyway, my and the lady are off on our bikes to not one, but TWO parties. One French (i.e. lovely canapes, quality booze, intellectualism), then Irish (crisps, cheap chemical-laden beer, fartabout nonsense fun). If all goes well, we'll cycle nearly 25 miles by the time we get home.

Take care,
C xx

Had a job interview today. Played a gig last Saturday with a well-known Irish singer-songwriter. We grooved. Tomorrow I play Limerick and Friday Listowel (pronounced Lis-toh-ell, quickly, in a Kerry accent) with another s/s who's stuck for a drummer. At this rate I shall be a session drummer in x amount of time. Or, I'll get the job following the aforementioned interview at beginning of paragraph.

Poll #808642 Nasal mining
Open to: All, detailed results viewable to: All, participants: 6

Do you pick your nose?

If you answered "Ugh no! That's disgusting!" then what do you with snot building-up?

Further to faerierhona's dream news, here is the latest dream news from BiCon's Dublin correspondent.

I was at an outdoor music festival. In front, on a huge stage, two rockish bands played simultaneously, separated by a 100m high sheet of perspex. On my left was a long large grassy bank, filled with numerous other bands. All on the grass, on tiny stages or none at all, playing a cacaphony of noise. Some close, some up the bank, up to the stage and back behind me. I saw Henry Rollins playing bass enthusiastically. There was a Dead Kennedy's stage except it was merely a brown box with "DK" on it. I guess they couldn't get Jello to sing. Then I left the concert(s) and hopped on the back of a pick-up truck. The truck started moving very quickly and I didn't have a good grip where I sat. The tree-lined country road zoomed out from under my dangling feet. Really fast. It quickly created quite a distance between the concert venue and ourselves. I really was going to slip off any moment, then yelled "STOP!" The truck stopped and I hopped off, really relieved to be back on the ground. Then I was back at the concert venue, but the shows were all finished. In fact, everyone has left and there was all this water flowing over the grass. Really damp. Any minute now and my Docs will start letting in water. Jaysus where's all this water coming from. Grey skies.

Then I woke up, bursting to go to the loo.

"We regret to inform you that there are no more openings in our company
at this time. While we know this is disappointing, we would like to
retain your application in our files for future openings."

Bretheren, behold ANOTHER job rejection for yours truly. The gods are fucking with me. Suggests for blood sacrifices welcome. Voodoo too.

Right you basturds if this is meant to be online confessionals then why the fuck not I'm gonna dive right in and splash the feckin pool splash splosh liquid getting everything WET. Argh!

Hold on... slow down and breath. B-R-E-A-T-H [Tibetan chimes and light breeze]

No, FUCK IT. DAMN it all to bloody burning hell and dead warriors' Hades. I am fucking pissed off. Utter frustration from lack of work. Argh! Am either "over-qualified" or "being kept on file for future reference" : SHORT SIGHTED CATEGORICAL BASTARDS! How could you not want to employ me? With an ass this good? Are you feckin BLIND yez gobsheens??? Ok, ass not relevant to work duties (is it? maybe wrong line of work). Experience is wide and varied, maybe TOO wide and too varied. So, I gotta be a straight-line guy? Ah, no offence intended but this is what you get like when you have TOO many interests. Worst case senario: jack of all and master of none. Best case scenario: Renaissance Man involved in various arts/media, social work and jigglies (potential extreme ego alert). Self-employment...? Hmm. Yass perhaps but... and and...

To show how fumed I am, I am now listening to PRONG 'Cleansing' album. Heavy but doesn't even come close to reflecting current emotions. Think screams from Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Yes, that's closer.

The worst part of all this, is that along with above hot-knives-in-my-heart emotions, I am simultaneously stultifyingly INERT like a piece of dead haddock. Some kind of depression, perhaps, but JAYSUS HAROLD KEYRIST it's like being in molasses.

I think I need to be stuffed in a rubber sleepsack and vacuumed. Then left for a long time to sweat out these toxic probs.

Grrrazzzzzzsccccssschhhachchchhachhachchitchitllllllllllaaaaaakkkkkk.

Fucking hell, my partner's at work so I'm HOUSEBOY. Do housewives get this CRAZED??

In Le Havre today I bought:

- Neil Young, Zuma LP, with inner sleeve & lyrics insert, orig French copy 1975
- ZZ Top, Tres Hombres LP, with inner sleeve, 1980 reissue of 1973 LP - 4 euro!
- The Best of John McLaughlin LP 1980. He once played with Miles Davis, doncha know.
- Sting, Nothing Like the Sun, 1987 2LP, with inner sleeves, lyric booklet AND Sting poster (bought for a friend - this is the last decent Sting album before he turned completely shite)
- Patti Smith Group LPs: Wave & Easter, both French copies with lyric/art booklets
- Peter Gabriel, So. 1986.
That's seven LPs for less than 30 euro (20 quid). In my own insignificant way, I rule.

...............some say that men collect things/objects because they can't make babies. Discuss (while listening to early ZZ Top).