Victoria Day: Notes on Steampunk
It’s Victoria Day in Canada today (well, English Canada – in Quebec it’s Patriot’s Day). The statutory holiday has been celebrated in Canada in some form or other since 1845, and has been law since Victoria’s death in 1901.
Today, outside of monarchist circles, it’s pretty much recognized as the first long weekend of summer: Victoria’s actual birthday is May 24, so informally it became the May 2-4 weekend (Huh? Oh sorry, you can buy beer in a 24 bottle case here, and for some reason it’s known as a two-four. No, I don’t know why).
The other fun thing is fireworks. Last night onne of our neighbours organized a small firework display at a local park. My family along with some of the other families with children on our block ooo-ed and ahh-ed and I eve got to play with sparklers. That brought back some childhood memories or Guy Fawkes night.
Which in a roundabout way brings me to my topic, Steampunk.
Steampunk. I have to say, I like the idea. On paper. It contains a lot of great elements:
- Classic Victorian science fiction (Wells, Verne etc.)
- An imaginative revisionist premise (steam and clocks driving a new technological revolution)
- Cool clothing
- subtle insertions into other genres
And it really is a mainstream genre now. From video games to TV and movies (even Halloween costumes), the Victorian era is back. (If you’re in Canada, contact the Steampunk Society of Canada
So, yeah, I was down with the idea – I loved William Gibson and Bruce Sterling’s “The Difference Engine” and I owned a pocket watch before Looper came out ( bought it at Fan Expo last summer along with a nice pair of goggles which fit over my own glasses from Lady Lilleigh’s Little Luxuries.(Also a fan of the bowler hat, but another time)
The trouble is, that, the delivery has been less than satisfying. I liked Gibson’s book, but I’m not really sure that’s a fair test, as I’ve read and enjoyed many of his works.
I heard Moorlock Night by KW Jeter was a good place to begin, as it was Jeter who coined the phrase steam punk. Imagine this, the moorlocks from Wells’ time machine were not the only branch of their species. There were also super-intelligent moorlocks who copy the Time Traveller’s design and use it to invade the past. OK. Now, I found the story a little clunky, but half way through the story abruptly shifts into an Arthurian legend story. Dreadful.
I recently read Kevin Angerson’s Clockwork Angels, which was based on a short story and later album by Neil Pert, the drummer from Rush. It started off promisingly, although instead of Victorian England, it was a future society. featuring characters like the Watchwatcher, the Anarchist and the Wreckers. However, about two-thirds of the way through, the novel abruptly switched gears into a Candide-style journey (one of the characters is called Pangloss – admiral not doctor though) laced with Objectivist style lessons (Pert is a fan of Ayn Rand).
And if you’ll forgive me a small digression, I can’t stand Ms. Rand. When I was in university, inspired by the number of times I saw Rand’s volumes on student shelves, I did dip into her works; turgid and didactic as they were. I guess I’ll use this opportunity to quote the famous assessment of her work
“There are two novels that can change a bookish fourteen-year old’s life: The Lord of the Rings and Atlas Shrugged. One is a childish fantasy that often engenders a lifelong obsession with its unbelievable heroes, leading to an emotionally stunted, socially crippled adulthood, unable to deal with the real world. The other, of course, involves orcs.”
John Rogers, Kung Fu Monkey blog
But, back to reality, sort of. Even as I have yet to read what I consider to be the great steampunk novel (and please correct my ignorance!)n check out the editorial from Steampunk Magazine
Steampunk is a re-envisioning of the past with the hypertechnological perceptions of the present.
Unfortunately, most so-called “steampunk” is simply dressed-up, recreationary nostalgia: the stifling tea-rooms of Victorian
imperialists and faded maps of colonial hubris. This kind of sepia-toned yesteryear is more appropriate for Disney and suburban
grandparents than it is for a vibrant and viable philosophy or culture.
First and foremost, steampunk is a non-luddite critique of technology. It rejects the ultra-hip dystopia of the cyberpunks—
black rain and nihilistic posturing—while simultaneously forfeiting the “noble savage” fantasy of the pre-technological era.
It revels in the concrete reality of technology instead of the over-analytical abstractness of cybernetics. Steam technology is the
difference between the nerd and the mad scientist; steampunk machines are real, breathing, coughing, struggling and rumbling
parts of the world. They are not the airy intellectual fairies of algorithmic mathematics but the hulking manifestations of
muscle and mind, the progeny of sweat, blood, tears and delusions. The technology of steampunk is natural; it moves,
lives, ages and even dies.
Steampunk, that mad scientist, refuses to be fenced in by the ever-growing cages of specialization. Leonardo DaVinci is the
steampunker touchstone; a blurring of lines between engineering and art, rendering fashion and function mutually dependent.
Authentic steampunk seeks to take the levers of technology from those technocrats who drain it of both its artistic and real
qualities, who turn the living monsters of technology into the simpering servants of meaningless commodity.
Authentic Steampunk is not an artistic movement but an aesthetic technological movement. The machine must be liberated from efficiency and designed by desire and dreams.
The sleekness of optimal engineering is to be replaced with the necessary ornamentation of true function. Imperfection, chaos,
chance and obsolescence are not to be seen as faults, but as ways of allowing spontaneous liberation from the predictability of
perfection.
Steampunk overthrows the factory of consciousness by means of beautiful entropy, creating a seamless paradox between
the practical and the fanciful. This living dream of technology is neither slave nor master, but partner in the exploration of
otherwise unknowable territories of both art and science.
Steampunk rejects the myopic, nostalgia-drenched politics so common among “alternative” cultures. Ours is not the culture of Neo-Victorianism and stupefying etiquette, not remotely an escape to gentleman’s clubs and classist rhetoric.
It is the green fairy of delusion and passion unleashed from her bottle, stretched across the glimmering gears of rage.
We seek inspiration in the smog-choked alleys of Victoria’s duskless Empire. We find solidarity and inspiration in the mad
bombers with ink stained cuffs, in whip-wielding women that yield to none, in coughing chimney sweeps who have escaped
the rooftops and joined the circus, and in mutineers who have gone native and have handed the tools of the masters to those
most ready to use them.
We are inflamed by the dockworkers of the Doglands as they set Prince Albert’s Hall ablaze and impassioned by the dark
rituals of the Ordo Templi Orientis. We stand with the traitors of the past as we hatch impossible treasons against our present.
Too much of what passes as steampunk denies the punk, in all of its guises. Punk—the fuse used for lighting cannons.
Punk—the downtrodden and dirty. Punk—the aggressive, do-it-yourself ethic. We stand on the shaky shoulders of opium-
addicts, aesthete dandies, inventors of perpetual motion machines, mutineers, hucksters, gamblers, explorers, madmen
and bluestockings. We laugh at experts and consult moth-eaten tomes of forgotten possibilities. We sneer at utopias
while awaiting the new ruins to reveal themselves. We are a community of mechanical magicians enchanted by the real
world and beholden to the mystery of possibility. We do not have the luxury of niceties or the possession of politeness; we are
rebuilding yesterday to ensure our tomorrow. Our corsets are stitched with safety pins and our top hats hide vicious mohawks.
We are fashion’s jackals running wild in the tailor shop.
It lives! Steampunk lives in the reincarnated collective past of shadows and ignored alleys. It is a historical
wunderkabinet, which promises, like Dr. Caligari’s, to wake the somnambulist of the present to the dream-reality of the future.
We are archeologists of the present, reanimating a hallucinatory history
Not the Empire. Not the social-conservatism. Not what was. What might be: “We stand with the traitors of the past as we hatch impossible treasons against our present.” I like that quite a lot. something to think about this Victoria day.
Puff Goes the Weasel
In his house at R’lyeh dead Cthulhu waits dreaming
Well, it wasn’t the alignment of the stars that roused me from my slumber, it was the continuing political farce in Canada that is the Senate. For those who don’t know (or care) about such things, in Canada, the Senate is appointed by the governing federal party and essentially, whatever, its pretensions, it serves as a retirement reward for political insiders and party functionaries etc.
Periodically, calls come for the Senate’s abolition (the NDP) or reform (the current Conservative government), but little happens in the Red Chamber.
Currently though, the Senate is a little more interesting. A number of Senators (1 Liberal ad 3 conservatives – all of whom have quit their respective caucuses) are under investigation for expenses related frauds.
So, you ask, why does this little scandal, which is admittedly juicy, hold interest for a left communist not usually concerned with the intricacies of capitalist corruption? After all, it really doesn’t matter too much which way the capitalist class maintains itself rule (although on a certain bourgeois democratic level, the Canadian senate on paper looks better than the British House of Lords. At least here, you have to grovel to current politics rather than have had your ancestors do it for you)
Well, the thing that caught my interest wasn’t
1. That Pamela Wallin racked up $375,000 in travel expenses in a period of 2 and a half years (that’s $12,000 a month or over $400 a day if you’re doing the math)
2 That Mike Duffy claimed 90,000 in housing expenses, when he lives in Ottawa (his principle residence is allegedly a cottage in Prince Edward Island where he is currently hiding out)
3 That the money which Duffy still insists he did no wrong to claim was repaid by the Prime Minister’s Chief of Staff and was in fact a gift (something under which Senate rules, so unclear according to Mr. Duffy, is illegal)
5 That said Prime Minister claims not to know about this although he is notorious as a control freak, but in any event defends his Chief of staff
6. Not even that the aggressively obnoxious Patrick Brazeau, currently charged with domestic assault and sexual assault as well as the expense claims, is going to fight to “clear his name.”
No no, actually as someone who has taken out loans and is still paying a mortgage (the bank and I have lovely little house together), I’m sure that like many others, I wonder how the fuck I can get a job in the senate. It would be great to have those kind of friends. and I’d be sure not to make those mistakes!
Who was it said, the wealthy and the powerful don’t mind socialism, as long as it’s only for them: the rest of us get capitalism. Tell that to your bank manager, landlord or bill collector next time they come calling.
Toronto Comic Arts Festival
Yes it’s true. Last year, I stood in line for two hours so my son could get an autograph and a picture with the woman who does the voice of Ash Ketchum at Fan Expo. Sure, I love comics. This weekend however is a different end of the comic spectrum. The Toronto Comic Arts Festival takes over the Toronto Reference Library this weekend. Lots of amazing things, so go and have a look
Montreal Anarchist Bookfair 2013
Coming up soon, the 2013 Montreal Anarchist Bookfair.
Events have already started, but the bookfair is May 25-26 (it’s the weekend after the Victoria Day long weekend).
Notes from Underground will be there will books, pamphlets, new issues of Aufheben and Internationalist Perspective, annd the usual sparkling wit. Seriously, go, you’ll have a great experience.
The Return of the Palma Violets – The Lee’s Palace Review
It’s not often I see the same band twice in a year, but last night I went to see the Palma Violets for the second time. This time promoting ann album and in a bigger venue to boot. I saw the band in January at the Horseshoe Tavern where they played a brief but energetic set to a half full venue. This time it was to the larger Lee’s Palace that the band brought their manic pop thrills.
Still, when we arrived a little before 10, the place seemed pretty empty. Maybe a hundred of so patrons milling around waiting for openers Guards I listened to some of their stuff online, and as sufficiently impressed to want to show up early for their set. Hard to pin down, but a sixties garage influence along with a few other things thrown in. The live set was a bit more free-ranging, and along with those influences there were a few prog-rock freak-outs. It’s been quite a while since I’ve sen a smoke machine used in a club, and by the end of the set it felt as if I had been transported back to the old days were everyone smoked in clubs. Energized, we waited.
11:45 and the Palma Violets took the stage. In many ways the performance wasn’t much different from the Horseshoe gig, except their cockiness had grown and they were playing to a few more people. The band ran through all their songs in about 37 minutes with a two song encore that reminded me, and this is not a put-down, of a punk rock One Direction: a really together group having a good time doing what they do best. The band’s energy infected the audience and the audience responded animating the band further. Especially during the encore when Guards returned and at least one audience member made it to the stage All this and a cover of “Invasion of the Tribbles” by Calgary’s Hot Nasties (OK, I had to google that!)
I’m not sure if the Palma Violets have a long career in front of them. Sometimes the flame that burns twice as brightly, burns half as long. But, it’s always great to see a band in that initial stage, when they are full of energy playing as if their lives depended upon it. Maybe they don’t want us to be their girl, but I’m happy to be their best friend.
Happy May Day 2013
International Workers Day. 2013. Gone are the tanks that marked the state-capitalism of eastern Europe. Largely gone are the welfare-statist social democracies of western Europe. What does remain is the dream. A couple of times I’ve been to May-day celebrations organized by the Worker-Communist Parties or Ira n and Iraq (names changed now, but it doesn’t matter) Now I don’t agree with the odd Leninist politics of the group, but the food was good and the evening always had the Internationale sung in English, Farsi, Arabic, French, Kurdish and probably something else at the same time. Solidarity.
I know some people don’t like this version, and I’m not fond of Bragg’s politics, but at least he tries to look forward in this rendition from the celebration of Pete Seeger’s 90th birthday.
Music Notes April 2013: A Salute to the E.P.
Something different this month.
Back in the day, before the MP3, there was the single, the humble seven-inch record. One song on each side. An “A” side and a “B” side. Three minutes of heaven. And there was album the album. Between four to seven songs per side judging from my collection, and a run time of about 15 to 20 minutes per side.
Oh that wasn’t all. There were also three song singles (the shortness of punk recordings often meant ann extra track on the b-side) , and the 12 inch single which often added an extended version of the A side (usually better sound quality too).
Finally, there was the EP. Also seven inches, but with four or more songs and usually lasting anywhere from 10 to 20 minutes. Often, the EP had no title song, so it felt a little like a mini-album (then there were mini-albums, but I digress). As long as music was recorded on a physical entity such as vinyl or even CD, the format could endure, but with the advent of the download and the playlist, the EP concept faded. (Oddly, the single has endured, even nas it was undermined by the CD. Vinyl’s back too!) I suppose the I-Tunes session is a sort of equivalent, but it’s a poor substitute.
Here’s a few favourites.
1. Buzzcocks – Spiral Scratch
Was this the first self-released punk record? Four songs with Howard Devoto singing. Minimal overdubs. Sweaty, exciting fun. Boredom.
2. REM – Chronic Town
It’s easy to forget after REM became rock stars just how revolutionary their early records really were. Jangle pop. Gardening at Night.
3. Yeah Yeah Yeahs – Is Is
Five thumpy songs from Karen and the boys. I still like their new records, but there’s rawness to these records which can’t be beat. Rockers to swallow
4. The Clash – The Cost of Living
The lead song is I Fought the law but the other three tracks, including the re-recorded Capital Radio are lots of fun. The EP also contains a 30 second Clash “radio” spot and a gatefold sleeve.
5, The Pogues – Poguetry in Motion
The middle record in the Pogues triumvirate of classics. You’re my London Girl. (Watch for the body of an American to appear in episodes of the Wire)
6. Arcade Fire – Arcade Fire EP
OK, those later records don’t cut it in the same way, but the first few releases by Arcade Fire are terrifyingly good. This one is cheating. At 35 minutes, it’s really an album.
7. The Fall – Slates
I wonder if this is worth anything. I still have my copy of this on 10 inch vinyl. No? OK. From their early period of greatness (or is that grateness?) When they used to be called Mancibilly.
Pavement – Slay tracks
More kids listening to the Fall, but with America ears. You’re killing me.
9. Big Black – Bulldozer
Say what you like about Steve Albini, he makes a fearsome noise. Cables!
10. The Rain Parade – Explosions in the Glass Palace
I think I had this on 12 inch vinyl once upon a time. Can’t find it now. Early eighties paisley underground. The guitar player would later start Mazzy Star.
Enjoy these and all the others. Recommendations?
Blood Red Shoes in Toronto – A Review
Near to the end of Blood Red Shoes’ ferociously entertaining set at the horseshoe Tavern last Tuesday, I took to wondering: Why aren’t these guys bigger? What’s the trick to fame? If Aerosmith, why not the New York Dolls? If not REM why not Let’s Active? If the White Stripes why not Blood Red Shoes? Well, I suppose if I knew the answer, I’d have a lot more money. In any event, I couldn’t help but think, these guys really should be a lot bigger!
Hmm.
I missed opening band Sorry, Yes OK arriving sometime around 9:45. I listened to some of their stuff on MySpace page and decided it wasn’t for me. Not fair I know. The opening slot is always a hard one, and in my defence, often I’ve arrived to see the opener and left before the headliner came on, but still. Only so many hours in a day.
At 10:00 Sandman Viper Command (dreadful name – Sandman or Viper Command OK, but not both), who referred to themselves as Sandman VC (better!) throughout the evening. I’d come to see them because on their site they described themselves as being influenced by Pavement and Sonic Youth. And the few songs I listened to gave that impression. Unfortunately, this wasn’t entirely reflective of their set. A lot of poppy sounds with a quite nice organ in the background giving them an orchestral air; a sort of psychedelic pop. Still, to my ears, it sounded to me as if they were still finding their sound.
Blood Red Shoes came on a little after 11. The front of the stage was densely crowded, but not so that you couldn’t find a way to the front without much trouble. BRS is a Brighton two-piece consisting of Laura-Mary Carter o guitar and vocals ad Stephen Ansell on drums. The band formed in 2004 and has released 3 full length records and even more singles. For the next hour put out a thunderous din of punk attitude. It’s a very simple formula, guitar and drums, and for those who love that stripped down sound, it’s tremendously seductive.
There wasn’t much let up throughout the hour, although Ansell joked throughout and repeatedly paid attention to one birthday boy. And boom, almost as soo ias it started it seemed it was over. And yes, they did play their hit from the Scott Pilgrim movie, “It’s Getting Boring By the Sea.” Cheers.
Courtesy of Setlist
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Heartsink
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Don’t Ask
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It’s Getting Boring by the Sea
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Lost Kids
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Light It Up
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This Is Not for You
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Black Distractions
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Cold
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Say Something, Say Anything
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It Is Happening Again
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In Time to Voices
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I Wish I Was Someone Better
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Red River
Encore
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Colours Fade
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Je Me Perds
Random Dog Picture #2
International Talk like a Pirate Day is not until September 19, but who cares?
Record Store Day 2013
I know it’s unhip to actually buy records and things now, but there’s just something about being in the store that beats anything a download has to offer.
