Meet (be me) Manifesto

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Somedays you wake up and realise what a mess you are so here’s how to become that mess. God is dead as Hawkes Chesney once said. The following is simply my munki guide of things that I won’t do and behaviours I can’t tolerate. Let your own guide be equally as long and pointless. Like life, see?

“For success is dying in a way that doesn’t cause mucho bothers to others. Kapiche?”
Gene Simmons from Kiss

  1. Do not wear flip-flops for fuck sake
    It seems like such a practical item until you realise they were invented by Belphegor who was not only a prince of hell who encouraged men with promises of wealth; he also found time to push the boundaries of flip-flops by making them widely available in the world outside of swimming pools. It is impossible to walk quickly in flip-flops or get anything useful done.
  2. Do not wear a t-shirt with a pocket
    Hmm. How do I make a perfectly plain t-shirt more exciting to please my boss and I’m on deadline and I have a hangover and my girlfriend left me and I hate everyone and if it wasn’t that my mother was proud of me I would end it all. What’s the pocket for Bob? Em…Tea bags. Cool.
  3. Do not wear slip-ons
    In other countries this may be a done thing, but in Irlanda of the 80s, slip-ons were accompanied by white socks and usually a black flag and occasional balaclava to y’know, accessorise.
  4. Do not wear slip-ons with designs
    Terrorist!
  5. Do not wear the band’s t-shirt when going to their gig unless it is a metal band, then it is acceptable enough.

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    This Chris de Burgh fan was raptured as he entered Chris de Burgh

  6. Shoes with no socks is like fucking a dead person.
    Again, it works in other countries where people are basically attractive, but in Irlanda it is a red flag for sweaty feet, verucas, fungal infections or that drunk who lost his socks but will be commended for managing to get his shoes on. Also known to take off trousers over shoes. Y’know that guy. He’s a survivor.

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    How’ye lads? Yahweh, is it? Satzenbrau please.

  7. Men+ white trousers=Hades this way lies. Q.E.D
    Unless you’re Johnny Logan, you’re not going to pull it off. That’s what Johnny Logan says…
  8. Shades in Irlanda
    It’s presumably obvious that if you drive and Audi or BMW you will wear shades even at night because the last thing you want to do is not conform to a stereotype. Some people can get away with it, but until recently in Irlanda it hasn’t been THAT bright. I mean not since 1976: the last time an outbreak of happiness and bad water management hit the country. Also the Irlandese will look like pall-bearers at an IRA funeral.
  9. Do not wear a shirt or t-shirt with a designer logo, unless that logo is the picture of the poor child that has caught its head in a weaving machine, then you’re just being a dick deliberately, so minor kudos.
    Or if you’re Chevy Chase.
  10. An alligator on a shirt is a kick in the genitals to a poor orphan child. It really, really is.
  11. A man bun should not be worn over the age of 20
    There are better ways to start your midlife crises than an unimpressive ponytail. (Write me for better ways. Done ’em all)
  12. Grow a beard. No it’s cool. You’ll be the only fucking one, honest.
    If Karl Marx only knew the trend he started he would be spinning in his pauper’s grave (Irish education right there).
  13. One selfie at most per year and try for fuck sake to at least be ironic about it.
    It’s easy to take a selfie at face value, until you become objective about it and realise what process weirdness is going on in the scenario. This will lead you to believe the person is going through some kind of crisis but…Oh, look 96 likes.
  14. Just coz Nick Cave does it doesn’t mean everyone should walk around a crowd like they’re fucking Jesus or Nick Cave.
  15. Try centrist politics America or just give up.
    The coincidence that your entire political system sits nicely within the parameters of Twitter is unfortunate. The inability to distinguish yourself as a human being with the ability to have a whole range of ideas and communicate them to other people is frankly un-fucking-evolved. Greatest country in your hoop more like.
  16. Boycott ‘Nuala Carey” She ruined TellyBingo for me.
    I will not repeat her name but she is essentially William H. Macy in “The Cooler.” I used to win loads of money on TellyBingo and then she presented and now I owe fucking TellyBingo money. How does this happen? Fuck you Arcade Fire. Come back Shirley.
  17. Saying ‘End of’ at the end of a rant pretty much explains what a fuck-gannet you were with all the preceding words.
    Why do people think with such certainty that they know everything? They don’t. It’s impossible. Also include “I’ll think you’ll find that” and “I’m sorry but..” Usually will have an alligator on chest for leisure wear. Something for the weekend, sir?
  18. Don’t lionise politicians just because they do one good fucking thing.
    Leo Varadkar and Simon Harris got a lot of kudos for the result in the recent referendum for the amazing hard work done by loads of women throughout history, whose innards politicians were playing Russian roulette with. Still, that Leo blooper reel. Laugh? I did not.
  19. Don’t use ‘my missus’ or ‘my bird’ or ‘her indoors.’ Not only does it suggest you have time-travelled from the 1970s series “On the Buses” but is also suggests you are in some kind of control. You are not.
    “Ah, but Jaysus, the lads down the pub say it and dey are the greatest like and dey talk about de burds and de tits and, and, and bleedin Halawa and peeeeeedoes and Billy said the blacks are taking over he did and, and, and, and, and food stamps and the gays. Ah, Jaysus.”
  20. Don’t drink and drive. You’re only fooling the dead child under your front wheel.
    Again, you are not in control of anything while sober. What makes you think that this changes with alcohol? Maybe sit home and read some philosophy or build a birdhouse. Write a novel or crochet a blanket. Just don’t drive a Ford Mondeo over the faces of some poor suspecting humans because you wanted that one more pint of not very good lager.
  21. If you absolutely have to use the demeaning-to-women word ‘cunt,’ direct it at office stationary only.
    Keyboards and mouses especially.
  22. Look up at the sky sometimes. It helps.
    Especially if you’re feeling grim or are trapped in a hole ready to be killed by a 1990s horror character with a name that will never be as good as “The Hitcher” so why did they even bother?
  23. Saying ‘I’m not racist but’ leads to everyone thinking that you would never say that to another race.
    You ARE racist. You are racist against races that haven’t been discovered by you yet.
  24. ‘I’m too long in the tooth’ actually means you are just a lazy prick and the company should stop paying you.
    You will not learn anything new and may as well just die on the spot. Stop ruining my day with your, your vibes.
  25. Michael McIntyre’s jokes are probably not Michael McIntyre’s jokes.
  26. Having an alter-ego over 30 is pathetic. Committing to it means you are probably mentally ill. Call Bressie immediately.

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    Porrberacee

  27. Instagramming pictures of your breakfast is fine. Do not do it if your breakfast is tragic.
    It may also make you mentally ill. It’s food. It’s your food. You are not aesthetic at all. Food makes you shit. Sometimes quicker than at other times. Add coffee. Doesn’t matter how pretty it is, you’re going to shit. That’s what I think when I see breakfast on Instagram. That person will soon take a shit.
  28. Echoing David Cross’s sentiment, does anyone have a solid shit after 30?
    Do they?
  29. Office politics are pointless.
    Whenever it happens. Take a step back, then take a deep breath and then take another step back straight into the elevator, then out the front door and never go back. Never ever go back.
  30. Don’t try to be like your parents. They watched Glenroe; you watched the Wire. They saw Kennedy; you saw Trump. Alternate realities.
    You have nothing in common. Just leave it.
  31. It is easy to avoid reality television by not watching it or reading about it or knowing anyone who knows anything about it
  32. Crisps become very important over the age of 30. Go with it. It can replace religion in your life.
    Shove that shit in your face while quaffing wine. Do it. Go for a run the next morning, whatever. The pleasure of shoving crisps in between your fillings may be the meaning of life. The taste, the artificial pleasure, the…the… Oh my. (With that I am raptured)
  33. Fighting people on Twitter is the equivalent of getting into an argument with a family member. There will never be a winner. This is America…boom boom
    Dogs sniffing each other’s asses have more dignity than twitter warriors.
  34. Stop going to festivals. You’re only encouraging them.
    Go to a gig in a pub or at your local venue. Go somewhere with just music and a bar. No gourmet burgers or fucking wraps. Just a shitty band at a shitty venue. It’s good for the soul.
  35. Do not do the fucking sheet trick with dogs. Leave them alone. Why confuse an already confused slave animal.
    It’s not for their benefit. You could theoretically do the same thing to the elderly in a home. Also these animals adore you unequivocally and look to you for guidance. What happens when you fall down a well? Your retriever will be thinking, “Ha, fuck you. You’re not going to get me with that one again. Wanker. Oh look, a butt.”
  36. Waistcoats: I mean c’mon?
    Maybe, just maybe it’s acceptable in a period drama. Or if you’re Michael Flatley, because I doubt if he has any other clothes.
  37. Bow ties: STOP, like. Unless you’re this guy.  The brother wears what the brother wants.
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    Very few adults can get away with wearing a dickie bow and not looking like they are making their first Communion. Very few.
  38. Do not buy an expensive car for social status, buy a small car with a fuck-off engine and see if them pricks will catch you. (Except a Golf. Don’t be that person)
    Or get a dickie bow.
  39. Cleanliness is close to Godliness. Do not lie with pigs, I think.
  40. Do not read reviews if you have your own personal taste on things. Why disagree with someone whose taste you don’t give a shit about in the first place?
  41. Something was good. It’s not good anymore, but it was good. Still better than your sorry excuse for a life.
    No one will remember you.
  42. Having one really good friend is better than having a thousand, unless your one really good friend is the reason you haven’t got a thousand friends. Fuck you, George.
    I want as few people as possible at my funeral because the awkwardness of being at funerals of people you don’t really know should be taken into account when you’re sticking a body in the ground. This applies to weddings too when you’re sticking a body in the ground.
  43. I am not impressed by your sexual prowess as I am not impressed with your saxophone skills. I don’t care who you fucked or that you can play “Blue Train.” Fair fucks but you are making me feel inadequate, thanks.
  44. As an atheist, do not tell your child that he has no soul. Tell other people’s children instead.
    Then they’ll tell their friends who will tell your kid and it’ll all be sorted.

    It’s the circle of life
    And it moves us all
    Through despair and hope
    Through faith and love
    God is dead

  45. NAZI PUNKS FUCK OFF
  46. Smoke ’em if you got ’em.
    Then quit and wish you had some. (Every fucking day)
  47. Keep on keeping on or until the logical magical conclusion.
  48. Power is always ruined by one clever cynical prick in the corner of the office. Absolute power is ruined by a bunch of cynical pricks in the corner of the office.
  49. Got tattoos? Well, so do grannies on your local beach. Not so underground now are ya, punk?
  50. Borderline psychosis leads to mlogging. Be careful…everyone else.
    Go back 49 paces to item 1 and repeat Ad infinitum.

Stretchcast Volume 3: from Git to Grit to Git a bit

A small bird flew up to me today and said,

“Stretch! The people need to know.”

I said, “What little terrapin?”

He say, “Theese Stretch theeeeeeessseee.”

1. Pan Sonic  – Trepanointi/Trepanation (Gravitoni) 2  Death from Above 1979 – Dead Womb  (Heads Up) 3. Gun Club – Carry Home (Miami) 4. Kid Congo and the Pink Monkey Birds – Rare as the Yeti (Dracula Boots)  5. Mouse on Mars feat Mark E Smith – Cut the Gain (Wipe That Sound Feat. Mark E. Smith) 6. Beans – Blue Movie (End it all) 7. Caribou – Sun (Swim)  8. Holy Fuck  Bontempi Latin (Holy Fuck)  9. Meat Beat Manifesto -Mnemonic (Answers Come in Dreams)  10. Broadcast – Tender Buttons (Tender Buttons) 11. Bad Brains – Leaving Babylon (Bad Brains)  12. Asian Dub Foundation – Power of Ten (A History Of Now) 13. !!! (chk chk chk) – The Hammer (Strange Weather, Isn’t It?) 14. Wire – Moreover (Red Barked Tree) 15. Loka – The beauty in darkness (Ninja Tune XX Vol. 2)

Downloadable it be (Click arrow on side of Soundcloud)

Stretch Songs of Joy 2010 parto duo:Home invasion

Stretch songs of joy pretty late yeah

Mad things…mad things….mad things… dad things… galahad things… fad things. spootnik

Well it had to happen, the angel is leaving and I am feeling prematurely bereft. Had to happen s’pose. Yi can’t want something and then deny yourself it at the same time…Jus doesn’t compute..

This one's broken. Ann, where's Nancy? Well, did you eat her? Annnn!

Stretch MacGibbon is generally a right thinking individual with a wrong thinking brain. Over the last year and a half the wrong thinking brain has been in control, or has it? Well? You don’t know what I’m talking about, do you? Well, if you do contact me and explain it…If you really want me, I am here.

The ruination of the situation is the stagnation of the alternative…BBBBUt this is where my music taste comes from… the constantly evolving mind bubble that sends forth these great songs that have an essence that appeals to the Stretch mind, like what a Kylie song does for a guy in a denim shirt, what Coldplay does for unemployed accountants or what gangsta rap does for spotty Irlanda youths. When it plays, it travels deep inside you and you are that demographic….yi ken?

Anyway, here some more reasons why my musical mind was tickled in 2010…

The happiest of Valentinoness to you all. I hope your big red heart pumps more blood than mine will….ciao

Flying Lotus – Mmmhmm

It’s kinda weird to have the Suicidal Tendencies bassist sitting on a rock in the middle of some cosmic acid trip… But in the washing machine world that exists around Flying Lotus, anything is possible. Although critics have been dribbling about Cosmagramma this year, it is to me anyways, nowhere near as good as Los Angeles or indeed 1983. Indeed.  But that could be just me. When I stood on the hip-o-meter in my local chemist, it turned out to be a weighing scales. I am 12 and a half stone and unsure whether I am hip or not… That hip factor reminds me of the gushings that greeted every Prefuse 73 album a couple of years back. It is my mandate not to gush. If I am ever shot blood will seep or languish around my wound, but never gush. There’ll be no gushing on my munki watch.

Anodyne – Close your eyes (Autechre remix)

Imagine you are in a post nuclear wilderness, you haven’t eaten for days. You don’t want to, because you are too sick to eat. The blinding wind feels like a knife against you face. The distance fills you with fear, the future is uncertain. Shadows make you jump. There are threats everywhere, but you must go on. You must drive forward through this nuclear winter. That’s what “Close your eyes” feels like. Then Autechre come along and remix it, turning the post apocalyptic wilderness into a cool urban nightclub where people drink cosmopolitans and don’t eat bombay mix and are listening to old-skool hip hop beats over various depressing techno tunes. The waiter asks you what you would like to drink. You say “Close your eyes.” He says he doesn’t know that one, so you leave in disgust and vow never to return.

Pan Sonic – Pan finale

The great Pan Sonic released their last album in that year that I’m talking about. A really coherent piece of work with the usual mix of vibe and noises to wring out your mind. The world in which they inhabit must be fun. I’d say their wives/girlfriends/friends/childers must wince when the boys shout, “It’s finished! Come listen.” Into the garage they go with a earplugs and some Xanax, while the speakers are turned up real loud and the Finnish boys push a button on the homebuilt chainsaw/synthesiser/doomsday device. Having seen them live, I know that the experience is similar to that part of an acid trip when you’ve just realised you are actually on acid and the reason that gravity is upside down is because your mind has taken leave of your head. It’s fun, and only costs about a tenner usually. Try them, Pan Sonic and some Advil for a mighty fine time.

Meat Beat Manifesto – Quietus

More sub-bass explorations from the Jack Dangers, who has made Meat Beat Manifesto a genre unto itself. There is simply nothing that sounds like it. It sounds like the last music you will hear just before a particularly intelligent psychopath stalks and murders you. Kinda like SAW, but without the ridiculous attempts to drag out the flimsy plot. Anyway, this music is best listened in the quietness of your own quietness, and feel the queasy claustrophobia that this music creates. Not one for everyone’s tastes, but for those w2ho hate God and all his evil works will appreciate the dark undercurrents in this work. Those who like GOD, get down on your knees in front of Michael Bubbly and pray he’s eaten.

Adriana Triana – Lost where I belong & Flying Lotus remix

This wonderful artist gets two mentions this year, because her output has been of such high quality. This 21-year old has an amazingly powerful voice, and with a little help from Simon Green proves that doing it early is a good idea. I started doing everything very early, smoking at 11, drinking at 12, drugging at 14, yet when it came to the important things like starting a band, mating with women who looked like women, writing a novel, travellating, I somehow screwed that up. Now I am 35 years, made mostly of water, on this ball made mostly of water and still mentally 14. That can’t be good.

I resolve to orienteer in space…That bring happiness methinks….yeah? You love me don’t you? I am…

Stretchcast Volume 2: Cheep cheep seated hatred/Snow means Snow

Stretch again and again and again…

So, a fairly rushed number deux. Still, it’s loud, uplifting, downlifting and slightly treacherous, poignant and obnoxious. Just like me. Anyway, a special Christmas one coming soon. Now, Stretch will re-enter real life where he is not welcome. Flump!

INTRO: Ivor Slaney – Easy Prey (Terror/Prey) 2. PVT – Window (Church with No Magic) 3. Various Productions – Maskmen (Maskmen EP) 4. Selfish Cunt – Feel like a woman (English Chamber Music) 5. Meat Beat Manifesto – Acid Again (Actial Sounds and Voices) 6. Modeselektor – In loving memory (Hello Mom!) 7. New Order – The Him (Movement) 8. Prolapse – Bruxelles (The Italian Flag) 9. Bonobo feat Andreya Triana – Stay the Same (Black Sands) 10. Underworld – Scribble (Barking) 11. Anti Pop Consortium – Volcano: Four Tet Remix (Volcano EP). 12. Roots Manuva – Again and Again (Slime and Reason) 13. Negativeland – Over the Hiccups (Escape from Noise) 14. Jaga Jazzist – Oslo Skyline (What We Must)

Increase Volume for Number 14. Downloadable (Click arrow on side of Soundcloud yokey)

No ChikChok! It is my turn to listen to the Stretch MacGibbon Stretchcast Number Deux

STUCK!

trapped in snowyland…with only Jack Dangers for company…gotta move outta the sticks

This is from the new album, Answers come in dreams. Perfect in my current situation…

Something trippy to help you through the day

Ah. Stretch relaxing with a beer and in a world of MBM, for tomorrow night I will be in a bar completely devoid of colour. The people, pale imitations of who they wished they’d be. Drink so skanky that I’m getting the hangover before I even get there. Barstaff so sullen that they could appear at war crimes tribunals. The ambiance is one of decay, the lighting only there to show the walking dead to their tables. No music, because even the worst music would count as a soundscape unnecessary in this vaccuum of despair. A bar where the only women are those who couldn’t find the shelter for the night. The reminders of how hard (and brilliant) it was to get out, yet how easy it was for the others to stay bound.  Sounds like a good night, yeah?

So, I’m going to listen to these two songs over and over until they jump into my head as a loop. Then, while sitting there listening to the rubbish, the overt sexism, the casual racism and the general glug glug glug of human experience, this monkey will sit with an electronic brain frying with sparks of madness and a posture of resignation, but hopefully they have bacon fries.

Wish me luck.