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Jascribble and the Jerking Chicken August 25, 2007

Posted by jasmingle in Uncategorized.
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So today, was UK Black Pride, or at least one UK Black Pride event. Apparently the organisers of last years Black Pride (Black as in all encompassing non-white ethnicity, at least ideally, but mostly beautiful afro-caribbean gay men and a sprinkling of gay women) fell out between last year’s event and now, so there were two separate events. This resulted in a half-dancing malais of people fanning themselves in the heat of the dark club (rennaissance rooms, vauxhall) or eating craftily overpriced jerkchicken-an-rice-an-peeeeeeeeeeeas, all the while clocking ex-partners, making connections, or just having a laugh with mates. Myself and Kuch sought solace regularly outside to grab snatches of catch-up and form the beginnings of theories about societal issues and erm, gossip.

 I don’t think any kind of Pride is something to approach on little sleep. What with one thing or another, I haven’t had very much this week so am now ready to drop at any moment, but the enthusiasm and general joyous yawping that is a prerequisite at LGBTQ events just could not be summoned. Otherwise, the event was largely anticlimatic. After last summer’s richly inspiring UK Black Pride and Fire This Time events, this year felt like a nod to the kind of celebration that should have been built on, straightened up and polished til gleaming in the rare August sunshine. The entertainments, while not terrible, came across as very last minute and the crowd was too dispersed among the different rooms to form one mass of cheerers in the centre, rendering the singers, models and poets devoid of any smiling faces to bounce off, feed from, respond to. As pioneers of an anti-nucleic identity that stands up to eurocentrism to be recognised as people, not as novelties, tokens or outsiders, is it not necessary to run these kinds of events with a certain…gusto? The whole point is not necessarily a parading of sexual identity or even the definition of oneself by other-ness but to nurture the development of a community in which people feel they can belong- to promote fluidity of identity and especially that which transgresses between conventions of race, gender and sexuality. I felt especially a rift between the reality and circle of friends that I know who are multicultural and of various sexual orientations and interests and the feel of Black Pride. However- perhaps there was an unspoken agenda that aimed to focus or target in particular, specifically Black British people, and that I am projecting my own desire to appreciate the diversity of people within my life onto the event. Also, it is easy to feel like an outsider if you are one of the few mixed race people in a venue.

However, if you are going to celebrate something, celebrate it properly, not three hours late, with a lack of enthusiasm and bad organisation.There is enough problematic representation of queer people and brown people in society without even our own community seeming not to care. On a more positive note, the fact that the events did happen at all is a thumbs up, and it did happen in London, which is thumbs up even more. The organisers have proved that there is a substantial audience for events such as that in the Renaissance Rooms, but now the challenge will be to expand and make full use of the potential we have in the UK to openly diversify.


Jascribble and the Abandoned Poems August 22, 2007

Posted by jasmingle in Poetry, Literature, and Performance.
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So tonight: Room of Abandon. Myself and CKB fight our way through the spit-in-ya-face rain to the pub, recharge with guiness, observe. It felt like a comfortably ramshackle evening- full of character as usual, devoid of pretension, peppered with eccentrics. I recognised a girl from Sussex university but she was gone before I had the chance to fabricate a shred of conversation. Kayo was sensational- my attention when I’m tired is about as hard to pin down as those floundering crazy moths that turn up in student flats, but I was held, warm, still, for the whole set. For some reason, even if you’ve heard work before, it doesn’t matter- you become immersed, alive. I always feel with good poetry like I’m reaching the surface, flooded with oxygen, reawoken and switched with a deft fat finger ON. It’s the same feeling that makes you picky, or discerning, maybe- choosy about what you will go and see or whose work. It also kicks me up the bum with my own writing.

On the tube, my thoughts churned to a curdle, sifting mentally through recent poems and ideas, working out which I felt the best about for upcoming gigs and Bestival, and realised with a jolt that with each new poem on which I work hard, a new standard against which I measure all my work arises, like a blue peter fundraising target. I can’t do old poems with the same sense of achievement now, when I now can say the same thing in a better way. I feel like some of the most recent stuff is just a re-write of old ideas or poems but tackled with a different sensibility. But tonight: I’m pulsing with a desire to be braver with my writing, while staying true to how I want to say it. Surrounded by such spectacular writers, it’s easy to become a sponge. I’m pretty impressionable as it is, and greedy, gluttonous for the glow exuded by other people, as if i’m licking their faces as they read, slurping down their good bits but bringing them up again to find a crude mishmash, a cheap imitation. I decided this evening that if I attempt to mirror the styles of others, I will never really be myself.

Jascribble and the Station Saxophonist August 20, 2007

Posted by jasmingle in Poetry, Literature, and Performance.
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Watched a saxophonist next to Charing Cross Station: look into


Next to the station, the people flowed into position like cogs in a pre-set clock, or- no- more like rivulets of water down a hillside: occassionally straying from the pre-determined route but always returning with a splash to the water below.

Watching Raggyfarmer was like stopping to breathe, zoom vision taking me up close and inside the barrel of his saxaphone, so I felt like I was part of the swell of his cheeks, the rise of his chest.

I don’t think he looked up at me, but amongst the suits and briefcases running, cutting through the stillness between musician and listener, I felt that, as two people standing still, we were rooted, we were safe- for want of a less cheesy comparison, I couldn’t help but think of the end of Titanic, the full brass band playing into the rising water, playing, still playing, until the barrels of the tuba and french horn filled like metal lungs, and everything was silent. There was that same determination to carry on, like noone else noticed that we are all drowning. Perhaps we are…?

Though he probably has socks that are older than me, and neither of us, still in the moment of the longest note, could rearrange the world’s pyramic scheme, it was like we were both rocks on a clifface, surrounded by catapulting lemmings with bluetooth over it’s edge- us beyond the point of plea or persuasion, letting them run into the sea. We know that eventually we will drown.

He looked like the saxaphone was a filter, sucking the clammy shreds of goodness from our coal-dust air, our chemical respiratory romance. I have no such tool, but instead imagine that every smoggy inhalation seeps, osmosic, into my pens’ ink, slowly cleaning me out.

New Chapter August 20, 2007

Posted by jasmingle in Uncategorized.
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I am starting this blog to create a window into thoughts, ideas and societal discussion that needs to be here! I am living in London, I’ve just moved back here- and the sheer amount of stuff going on that passes unnoticed, undocumented- unblogges, boggles me. It ranges from the downright scary to fucking hilarious and sometimes both at once, butI love the freeze-frame moments, too- the ones that restore your faith in humanity.

 This blog will be an amalgamation of all these things: links, observations, experiences, and analysis, plus information on my projects and gigs, any interesting pictures that come up, and links to podcasts of interest.

 Happy reading!


Hello world! August 20, 2007

Posted by jasmingle in Uncategorized.
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Welcome to WordPress.com. This is your first post. Edit or delete it and start blogging!