tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-90485652970041315242024-02-07T02:20:06.273+00:00Gut FeelingsA blog to go with the zine.
about food and music and sex and perfume and the sky and everything else.Sarah Crowder and Sophie Ioannouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05078368075944550357noreply@blogger.comBlogger6125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9048565297004131524.post-68126830840314658532014-04-02T17:40:00.001+01:002014-04-02T17:40:43.771+01:00National Poetry Month<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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April is National Poetry month. You don't need me to fill this blog post up with my own clumsy words, just watch these videos of people who have mastered putting words together in beautiful ways. </div>
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This final poem is something I think lots of people should read or watch before they speak poetry in public.</div>
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Sarah Crowder and Sophie Ioannouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05078368075944550357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9048565297004131524.post-68722345170970009872014-01-12T23:30:00.000+00:002014-03-28T19:31:24.280+00:00Kicking the Mickey Mouse Out Of Our Heads - Sophie.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Like many a kid, Walt Disney ruled my childhood. I would watch Beauty and the Beast four times a night, I dressed up as Princess Jazmine every day for a year and I am still utterly traumatised by the untimely death of Mufasa. When I think back on those sweet and easy times, I feel sentimental over the imagination with which I played and the innocence of the fantasy world I existed in. It was wonderful, it was filtered of conquering evil, it was safe. Any fears I did have were nothing a hug and a hot chocolate couldn't disperse.<br />
But then real life started to seep its way in. Heartache, failure, disappointment, death and Hitler and terrorists and fucking horrible nightmares and war. Like a slow moving tidal wave of horror, it came with a vengeance to destroy the dream kingdom we spent so many years calling home and there was <b>no one</b> to slay the dragon and there was <b>no one</b> to rescue us from the tower.<br />
The most heartbreaking part of it all was the unrealistic imitation of the fictitious good guy. Do you remember him? That great, triumphant dude of a man who we emulated for all those innocent years, the one with the sound morals and the good heart?...no?<br />
Yes, well you probably <i>don't</i> remember him anymore because you've spent too many years doing terrible shitty things to people that feeling triumphantly good these days feels like a very faraway dream. Gradually over the years, the penchant for evil and trouble unmercifully weaved its way so deeply into your being and built a home right on top of your withering soul that you haven't really had time to face the fact that you now more closely resemble a Disney villain than your previous pursuits of wholesome greatness.<br />
It doesn't stay that way. Trust me, the yearning to be the prince/princess that you started your life believing you were <i>will</i> come back because I've seen it happen too often. Every time a friend tells you that their 'not drinking for a bit' or their 'not coming out for a while', <i>that</i> is when it's happening. Just look at the smug expression on their stupid righteous faces.<br />
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A backlash was inevitable. Disney made everything so cute and lovely and left us completely unprepared for reality that we, naturally, started to pick holes in the wholesomeness of the Disney philosophy. There was something so enchantingly insidious about it. '<i>This</i> character is a pedophile, <i>that </i>character is<i> </i>into beastility, just look at the way they've made his eyes so squinty, can't you see? isn't it obvious now?' We waged a full blown attack on the idyllic images that we couldn't possibly compete with as flawed adults and in turn the Cinderella tinted glasses gave way to ones that were a light shade of grey with a constant drizzle of rain. Unfortunately, this is the just the natural progression of things when a more favourable tint is removed.<br />
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It was this molly coddling nature that Charles Bukowsi fought against his whole writing career. To him, Mickey Mouse destroyed the soul of America. His wife, Linda, explained how Buk couldn't stand the fact that the power over multi millions of human beings was in the hands of this three-fingered son of a bitch. He was dedicated, whole heartedly, to the de-Disneyfication of us all and boy, did he succeed. Bukowski's America is the absolute antithesis of Walt Disney's. One of sex, violence and alcoholism. One where pretty horses can make your dreams come true if only you're willing to take a trip to the tracks every other day. Perhaps it was his lack of a childhood that spurred on his hatred, or perhaps he didn't want the children of America to be so shocked by the impulses of their souls. Either way, it horrified him that Mickey Mouse had a greater influence than 'Shakespeare, Milton, Dante, Rabelais, Shostakovitch, Lenin and Van Gogh. Which says what about the American public? Disneyland remands the central attraction of Southern California, but the graveyard remains our reality.'<br />
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Although it all sounds pretty bleak and miserable, perhaps he has a point. A frivolous, uncomplicated existence <i>would</i> feel like a soulless one. One thing ol' Mickey didn't teach us is that it's all peaks and troughs, kids. Life is beautiful but it's also fucking cruel. Sometimes things will go your way but most of the time, they probably won't. You <i>will </i>do terrible things, you <i>will</i> hurt the people you love and you <i>will</i> err on the side of Jafar. You'll probably, definitely also see some nasty shit going down on the side of the freeway but without getting all those horrible bits out of the way, how are you ever gonna build up the tenacity to be that good wholesome guy again? Y'know, that one you read about once, way back when...<br />
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Its the circle of life I'm afraid and we're all part of it so maybe instead of letting your children watch Fantasia when they turn five, why not settle down with a hot glass of milk in front of the fire with a few choice exerts from '<i>Tales of Ordinary Madness</i>' to give them that head start in life?<br />
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<i>Bukowski vs The Three Fingered Bastard</i> by Neal Fox</div>
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Sarah Crowder and Sophie Ioannouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05078368075944550357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9048565297004131524.post-74173930108415839932013-11-02T16:22:00.001+00:002013-11-02T17:18:02.069+00:00Katie May Taylor's cake recipe.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Our gorgeous friend Katie-May Taylor gave us the recipe for this delicious cake, which I then wrote up and illustrated. The photos of the cake are also courtesy of Katie.</div>
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Sarah Crowder and Sophie Ioannouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05078368075944550357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9048565297004131524.post-38046899330189858112013-10-08T21:27:00.001+01:002013-10-08T21:31:46.279+01:00RAIN Playlist - Sophie<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b>ENGLAND MIXTAPES</b></div>
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<b>As usual, Sarah and myself have created some more awesome mixtapes to go along with the theme of the zine, so this time they are both based (loosely, you might argue) around good old England! </b></div>
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<b>Sophie's RAIN Mixtape</b></div>
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Rain. Bastard rain. The one thing we can pretty much ALL associate with living in England. We've been terribly lucky of late but yeah, it SUCKS. It's the second worst element after wind (I fucking hate wind). It makes you cold, it hammers against your window when you're trying to sleep, it makes your mascara run down your face in the least sexy manner, it makes the floors slippy so you constantly have to worry about falling over in the street and it makes everyone smell like a big fat wet ugly dog.</div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%; text-align: left;">But...have
you tried<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><i style="text-align: left;">embracing</i><span class="apple-converted-space" style="text-align: left;"> it once in a while? or revelling in its supposed liberating effect? Have you ever just thought...’Fuck it. I’m going in’? HAVE YOU EVER looked out of your window at those big wet buds of pure hatred for humankind bestowed upon us by the heavens and flung that door open with determined passion...bravely stepped out into the relentless onslaught...arms spread wide...chin raised high...ready to take everything that the shitty world is
about to throw at you...right in the face...like a man?!!!!! </span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;">No
me neither, but you know what is reeeeally unattractive? Complaining. So get stuck in and see what happens, you might love it. </span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Have a listen <a href="http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLVu8g_cCmZkKHG-ixodpMrYwxfNJZY7S-" target="_blank">here</a> </i></span></b></div>
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Sarah Crowder and Sophie Ioannouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05078368075944550357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9048565297004131524.post-77582577644906149712013-04-11T22:04:00.000+01:002013-04-11T22:04:37.487+01:00Sophie's Sleep mixtape.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLVu8g_cCmZkLSI119R5SOPPx1hY999prM" target="_blank">Listen to the mixtape on youtube</a><br />
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Sarah Crowder and Sophie Ioannouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05078368075944550357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9048565297004131524.post-54719381140391947212013-02-19T16:38:00.005+00:002013-02-19T19:40:33.581+00:0050 Ways To Leave Your Lover <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, georgia, serif; line-height: 28px;">This has always been one of my all time favorite songs and was originally going to go into my break-up mixtape but I felt it needed more attention than that. The burning question on everybodys lips for the last 38 years has been ‘why did Paul lead us in with 50 but only give us 5?’ Did he run out of time? Did he get bored? Or was it only really Jack, Stan, Roy, Lee and Gus who needed his help in the first place? Nobody really knows the answer but I hope those guys worked it out and that their plight was lessened by their helpful friend Paul Simon and his insightful, wise and not at all lame advice. If only Gus had thought about hopping on a bus BEFORE PS went through all the trouble of writing a song about it and if ONLY bloody Roy would stop being so bloody coy. Anyway, I decided to pitch in for all his other buddy’s out there who are in similar situations and I think you’ll find my suggestions are a lot more thorough. Heres a page from the zine.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #263029; font-family: 'Times New Roman', georgia, serif; font-size: 18px;"></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyqYMM44TqDJh6d_K9khaXTA0CyQ0SlVlNFlD_FN7-M3ntG0ZVrycgw1cO0gm5KTNK5FYV0fKlUykG6Vxb4S5qZXRX_xknc5bu-0SxTN8E8JMM8q-ynpYdG6s-GhudGsDcQgIWnHk9GO5N/s1600/Lover.jpg" style="border-bottom-color: rgba(136, 136, 136, 0.296875); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; color: #333333; text-decoration: none;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyqYMM44TqDJh6d_K9khaXTA0CyQ0SlVlNFlD_FN7-M3ntG0ZVrycgw1cO0gm5KTNK5FYV0fKlUykG6Vxb4S5qZXRX_xknc5bu-0SxTN8E8JMM8q-ynpYdG6s-GhudGsDcQgIWnHk9GO5N/s640/Lover.jpg" style="display: block; height: auto; margin-bottom: 30px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 30px; max-width: 100%;" width="449" /></a></div>
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My favorite is suggesting Toby move to Nairobi, wisest decision he’ll ever make. Just to recap on the first 25 ways: <strong>Step out the back, Jack.</strong> Make a new plan, Stan. <strong>No need to be coy, Roy.</strong> Hop on the bus, Gus. <strong>Drop off the key, Lee</strong>. Fake your own death, Steph. <strong>Start dating Barry, Harry.</strong> Slag off her meal, Neil.<strong> Don’t give a damn, Sam.</strong> Blow off a date, Nate. <strong>Run over the cat, Matt.</strong> Act like you’re God, Todd.<strong>Drink all her juice, Bruce.</strong> Kill a swan, John. <strong>Hold up a bank, Frank.</strong> Start wearing a wreath, Keith. <strong>Give her the flu, Stu</strong>. Get thrown in jail, Dale. <strong>Make some outrageous claims, James. </strong>Feed her to a shark, Mark. <strong>Be a dick, Mick.</strong> Move to Nairobi, Toby. <strong>Join the mob, Bob. </strong>Move into your nans, Hans. Just leave, Steve. </div>
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More options to come or feel free to offer some of your own advice on our facebook page and I will credit you right here!</div>
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S.I </div>
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Sarah Crowder and Sophie Ioannouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05078368075944550357noreply@blogger.com0