SWALLOW THE MIND

The world and mind of I - Craigus Barry - eccentric, songwriter, arranger, composer, freelance writer, comic shop owner, entertainer.. Swinging on the pendulum between occasional idiot outcast,occasional genius.. Loved by many hated by a few.. Known...

[swallowthemind]

In my dream last night I followed a psychedelic rock band practising in an attic with an ornate round stainedglass window. They rehearsed in there minus their drummer, eventually the practice wound down to it's conclusion, amps buzzed, feet clicked off pedals, and hands scampered to unplug them. They were now going to go on tour. The guitarist stopped tue metronome, smiled and said "perfect timing". They descended to the ground on zip lines and fireman poles, they didn't have room on their skateboards to take me along so I had to walk behind their tour longboards and skateboards. I recall each skateboard had a long board with their amp, pedals and gear snugly packed in little sainsburys bags. I kept pace with the kazoo player, she proudly had her instrument tied around her neck and wore a floral dress gliding along the ground on a hoverboard , "Where's your drummer?" I asked, "oh, he's up there", clouds swirled like the wizard of Oz and a cut storm cloud like paper animation was slowly edging in showering the ground beneath it. Astride and atop of the cloud perched on a bike was their drummer, the wheel carved like an axis mounted and grinding into the vapour nimbus turning around. Instead of a bell he had a snare that when he rolled with sticks it made a Clap of thunder , he was wearing a biggles style helmet like those folks who flew biplanes in old war films. He didn't have arms rather his mustache flowed into his sleeves and became appendages like wispy smoke creatures in an anime. He remarked and shouted with glee "I would say.. i could see my house, but I already passed it a mile away". The band laughed surreal like in unison as if in a cartoon.

We passed crowds animals and insects in various regalia and they cheered the band on, the kazoo player suddenly exclaimed "omg look at that", some elegant looking mustachioed bugs in 60s regalia with bowl haircuts were waving and smiling, one of them was using its hind legs to idly kick some rolling pebbles about, "who are they?" I asked Ms Kazoo "The Beetles silly, John's kicking the stones about as usual, Mick doesn't look very happy", I groan.. Looking at a small lake near by I notice a bunch of buoys in Hawaiian shirts singing harmoniously as they swayed as if they were a barbershop quartet. "That's enough!!" I thought in disgust. I felt the urge to shatter this happy scene. Ice would break rather than melt.

"you're nothing but.. But a bunch of puns" I shouted!

A needle ripped off the record. Uh oh..

They whole street and scene ground to a halt, the crowd went from happy cacophony with streamers, some wasps and bees literally buzzing with excitement, to a cute cornucopia of concerned faces and expressions.

An air of questionable existentialism passed around, each creature now unsure about itself and it's place in the landscape of lolling hills and valleys with winding liquorice lanes..

The drummer jumped off his cloud and looked likewise concerned as his heels screeched sparks he gently floated down from His perch. "ok, lets do this".. They begin to play and the place is animated once more..

I wake up

[swallowthemind]

in my dream last night, i was hounded by stripey authoritarian wasps with batons in four corners of a small hut i resided in. Once I swatted one of the buggers away acutely aware of the risks of sting or beating and noticed they had little hobnail boots on too. Almost immediately another group of them appeared and I found it increasingly frustrating to continue my crochet of a small bunny rabbit eating a carrot.

[swallowthemind]

2nd July 2020 : Dream blog

In my dream friend's and I found an insert in an old film geek magazine, a huge A1 pullout of the 90s Dracula film, boarded in barbed wire. Carefully we removed it so as not to the rip it's fine paper edges. It was in remarkably good condition, it had a tea stained aesthetic to it, exquisite intricate crossed patterns with images from the film collaged in even spaces. I was largely unaware who my company were in this situation, but Jim Morrison was waxing lyrical and smoking a cigarette pondering over what the poster may mean. Everything was fine with this group effort until substances entered the frame, someone did lines of coke off an insert from the poster. We laid it all out on a queen sized bed, pentagrams were painted on the walls and candles dripped softly on two side tables. We examined it further, I estimated it was worth considerable money, so would have been better if we had left it in the barb wire. At that point arguing began over who really owned it, we grabbed each edge contesting over who was the rightful owner, I noticed the magazine it came in may have increased it's value further and attempted to find it, but now it was too late. A huge roar erupted as flames took to each edge and an inverted globe beneath span in interstellar space, lonely or forlorn. The flames engulfed the whole scene, I glanced up at the ceiling, unafraid, looking at the William Morris patterns etched in the plasterwork, the sound of a swarm of bees so loud as to cause tinnitus broke out above, it was too much to bear. I woke up to see a swarm of bees at the tiny window in my room. Such a sight I fell back asleep shortly after when I assumed it were safe again.

[swallowthemind]

THE OWL IN DAYLIGHT : PKD’s LAST INTERVIEW!

One of Philip K Dick’s last ever interviews eventually printed in Starlog April 1991, regarding The Owl In Daylight, the high concept book he conceived and planned but never finished writing. Interestingly since his death many bands including Pram and Secret Chiefs 3 have done a piece of music about The Owl In Daylight, the premise of the book was a colour musical stave as language of an alien race. But read the interview it’s astounding! 

[swallowthemind]

Sarah Glides From Thermals In The Sky Dimitri & The Godhead

NEW VIDEO! WATCH IN 1080P FOR BEST RESULTS! 

ENJOY

[swallowthemind]

Rediscovery Of The Hourglass 5th March 2018

I lost an uncle the other week. When I last saw him before Christmas He was fighting terminal illness with admirably placed (somewhat,) macabre humor, a head held aloft to adversity, this matter-of-fact out look to what lay ahead. I wouldn't glorify it, nor belittle it, death is a strange customer and I like many, have dealt with it my own way.

As if a clandestine specter: all hollow & creaking without charm, death visited again today, inopportune and as unexpected as a evangelist foot in the door.  Whereby, I heard news of another dear friend's passing. This time a long-term close friend for around six years - a neighbor. Both of us having recently relocated to other cities had regrettably lost touch a little, but still traded quips and one liners here and there.  

Sad times, indeed, but death will oft pull into focus all of value and importance. A constant reassessment of our age. A yardstick of mortality.

Reality: is a harsh teacher hard lined with fortitude and deceptions systematically adjusting and readjusting all we are and shall be. Daily: we waltz around thin spun stanzas of mortality. Dotted on a stave in a drunken meditation all at once celebratory and decadent. Observing the past and present collide to maintain hard earned footing pon this silver threaded line. Striving for a meaningful relationship to the ether that here we are all eventually set adrift within. Seething puddles snared in footholds, a Giants Causeway, we crane a crigged sprained neck upwards to the so-called "heavens", and here we spy twinkling satellites on monotonous paths, cutting a swathe thru the never realm of inky divides.

Meanwhile, a star is viewed in perpetuating hindsight: forever in the past, it's light a mere beacon of what was, an permanent fixture to the glass bowl horizon, far beyond our terrafirma hourglass.  Nevr' pushed nor appraised for more than it's moment of tranquil reflection before damnation. Earning it's accolade within its cluster by necessity of order and disorder.

Brings to mind the strange thought from Arthur C Clarke: regarding everyman's private heaven and hell charted within a multitude of births and deaths cosmologically comical in it's vastness and finality. We come from the stars rather than ashes juxtaposed with ashes, or mere mica soil. Rather we come from houses holier than mere scripture or mortal conjecture. We return letting fly our energies and cutting lose endeavors in a surrendering of self to become truly selfless and just be. Even dust and lint are of interest, one time I may of utilized such forms as a petty put down. "You sir hold all the interest of lint within a dusty attic' How wrong I was to dismiss dust as dull, or without a story. Mere artifacts measuring past forms, set into the cracks and crevices. Like those stars so distant and intangible.

"Brief lives : we're may flies" - Bryan Talbot Alice in Sunderland

[swallowthemind]

XENU : OR HOW I LEARNED TO STOP WORRYING AND JUST LOVE THE ALIEN BASTARD!

There's a new Scientology church down the road from me rehoused in this incredible listed building they had faithfully restored down to the original iron window frames, honey alabaster fire place, intricate wooden carvings, looks like Victorianism gone LSD. Millions of pounds invested by them in restoration for indoctrination.

I recall back in 2001 when I first encountered these people in the Indoor Convention Centre, they weren't large in number then, think Mormons abroad, or Buddhist centre in working man's club, though they claim they have been in my city since the late sixties, a claim I am almost certain amounts to some dude had a picture of L Ron in their house and a few dusty sci-fi books destined to be pulped, like sunken sludgey dreams of baccofoil. 

On that day, back in two thousand and one, I met this branch of Scientologists & experienced the "E metre" first hand. 

I was told about "the bridge" that trial we all face in life where the higher levels are beyond but you gotta read a lotta new age stuff to get to Ott III or whatever it's called, "Dianetics"; their wonderful "science" about mental health, apparently, 

Also they told me about the author of this body of work & accompanying ideology by their prolific founder : L Ron, a enigmatic chappy who I asked about straight off the bat. 

"He is a famous philosopher, thinker, innovator", (said the twinkle eyed bespectacled gent in a lab coat, ghosted in turn by a pretty twenty something office temp in a pencil skirt hovering around him,) 

"besides Dianetics what did L Ron write?" I asked, 

"oh, he meditated deeply upon the human condition and was also a popular science fiction novelist". 

O’ really?!!

"So is this science, or something to do with hypnosis?" I also probed, 

"it's neither," replied this silver haired, wide eyed, smartly attired robot/bloke, and smugly added, "it's Scientology".

After my friend and I got out alive (without signing up to ya know, a cult,) I looked on AOL thruough it’s creaky neolithic dialup squawks (probably ask Jeeves or something like that, Atavista?) and sure enough II found this site called Operation Clambake (which is still going strong,) and that's the first time I read about Xenu.

According to L Rob Mother Hubbard : Xenu was actually this intergalactic warlord, far more despotic than Kahn, this hard knock lived millions and millions of years ago flanked by dezions and henchmen (and women,) he ruled with an iron fist, a bit like Vada gone Hitler via Putin (almost certainly with an impressive leather codpiece,) therein unchallenged he enslaved humanity by stranding their alien souls here on Earth or some fanciful name it was called at the time. He set about dumping their frozen cosmic bodies in the mouths of volcanoes, nuking em with H bombs, generally killing em'! We forgot this traumatic past life (I know right?,) of xenomorphic genocide cuz of these bad memories personified as Theatans, an auditor (for a sum of money,) helps you regress to these past lives and eventually you let go of material possessions and if you're lucky (and spend 30k+,) you get given this manila envelope about Xenu, typeset by L Ron himself! 

It's funny cuz Xenu sounds not at all dissimilar or alike to something I read in a comic by Stan Lee & Jack Kirby in Journey Into Mystery. Which was published around the time L Ron started devising Scientology. But that's just being facetious 🤔 

By that point in the auditing (your very soul and personality,) you've learned about your past life doing super interesting things a few hundred, few million, or even a few trillion years ago. Yeah, the universe is only 14 billion years old. But don't worry, that's just the Theatans planting false information, like fossils in the grand canyon, all just ya know, fake realities.Shit put there to test us!

The church is going hard advertising their new indoctrination chamber so I gotta vent somewhere! Like most cults, it’s good to be wary of them, but also not take them too seriously! The internet has thined them out a tad since their founding.

In closing, if a lot of the above practices used within Scientology sounds like manipulation of the mentally ill, the traumatised, and such, well, it’s because it probably is! It’s a disgusting abuse of various methods (similar to the self help of CBT , deep hypnosis ) repackaged for Scientologists own monotary gain and power for little more than the offering of fairy tales for a fee! They essentially bastardised other psychiatric practices that are beneficial and repackaged it as a neat galactic cult. So all jokes aside, it’s a little fucked up to say the least! It’s more analysis than mere opinion in this case, it is the responsibility of any segement of society towards others with mental health illness or struggle, to treat such humans with respect and not indoctrinate them into our own ideologies, beliefs and world views.   

(This brilliant article details more how they make people believe absolutely delusional, science fiction, space opera bullshit. They literally deprogram them and then these victims visualise a past life in either space, or as Jesus. On the one hand it's shear evil manipulation, nothing short of hypnotism, on the other it's funny as fuck!)

[swallowthemind]

Echo Chamber-maid

Well I gotta admit it, I'm in the echo chamber, trapped in a goddamn’ bubble, but I'm aware of my condition and I'm attempting to become less polarized and more objective with what I believe. I'm applying this technique mentally here’s the analogy - the album Desire by Bob Dylan is one of my favourites in his catalogue, I adore the strong narratives, the balladic structure, the social commentary lyrics, the raw off-hewn performances with scant production. BUT, there’s a contradiction here, I also ADORE a piece by Leister Bangs that totally destroys this album, and Dylan himself, to boot, with very constructive views, he pokes holes in the poetic romanticized reality Dylan painted on the songs ‘Hurricane’ and ‘Joey’, for one, at the time the album was beloved by critics everywhere, but Bangs very effectively articulated why he disliked the album and the way Dylan would re-frame the narrative of stories to be over simplified tragedies, with clear protagonists, clear antagonists. I think that, in all fairness says much about Bangs’ wanting to keep it real, as Dylan just wanting to tell a story with a beginning a middle and an end. ~~

Bangs however, misses the mark by forgetting about ‘Black Diamond Bay’, this song is exempt from Bangs’ view because it is shear fabrication, rather than in the case of ‘Hurricane’ & ‘Joey’; which are both based upon real stories and events, twisted to Dylan’s ends. ‘Black Diamond Bay’ deals with the way the western world distances itself and desensitizes itself from atrocities it views through the media, in the song a detailed view of the last moments of the victims of a volcano erupting on a small island is played out in intricate, intimacy.  Here, Dylan excels at his craft, building drama through a wry, rapid paced novella set to music. It ends with the eruption killing everybody and leaving only a few possessions, the only artefacts of the characters behind, and the mystery of what it all means, Dylan, or perhaps just a westerner sees a brief news broadcast where the only information given is that a volcano erupted and many people died, the protagonist (a crafty twist of perception,) decides he never would of visited Black Diamond Bay anyway, so why should he care? he just switches the channel over and grabs another beer, instead.

~~

In missing this song out of criticisms Bangs’ ironically missed the point of the entire album :- Dylan fabricating the truth somewhat to make an interesting story fuelled by passionate regaling, like many writers do, whilst Bangs was a journalist (and IMO a very fine journalist at that,)  Dylan is a poet and writer, above all else, a journalist is concerned with the truth and facts, with opinion, a writer and poet is bound by no such rules of conduct. So Bangs’ was also victim of his own echo chamber and bias. This fascinates me greatly. Our perceptions can ultimately shape our reality.    

[swallowthemind]

Sarah Gldies From Thermals In The Sky Latest mix Jan 26th (WIP) DMT

C Barry 2017 "Sarah perched upon the heavenly vault Swan dive girl Looks upon the brave world" ~~ Equipment used: Instruments : Suzuki Omnichord OM27 Dubreq Stylophone 1984 Japanese Fender Performe

Newest piece I am working on 

[swallowthemind]

Yellow Crepe Paper Moon - June 2008 

I see a yellow crepe paper moon Nestled on a crook of spiral arms Born aligned 

But experiences have birthed us wide

~~

“Turtlequise” the word that drew me to your life

~~

Peace cranes flock by night 

illuminated by moon bathed mirrored light 

in hazel eyes 

Blow out these candles say goodnight

~~

Don't just sigh 

I don't why this shift seems right 

but I find solace in visions locked inside

~~

Placate all we can/ But outside influences swirl parallels amidst sand Draw sparing lines Mould an idea breathe out light

~~

Complexities of fate/ these arms stretched out/ and judgement will await

 follow suit upon the coattails in pursuit

Worth the try/ to hang an ideal 

 bleed it dry

clasping tight

upon the threads of brave new insight.

~~

The days evaporate

Ev’ry heavy hour carries the weight 

of these words just letters arranged in haste

~~

Pleasant fawns grazing at the side of serene fields 

vapour trails form Aramaic visions up above All these signs 

would be just be vapours otherwise

[swallowthemind]

ASK THE PRIME MINISTER FOR HER META DATA BY LAW WITH THIS TEMPLATE

So Britain: Theresa May decided to pass the so-called Snooper's Charter? She now has access to a years worth of your internet records, meta data etc! Cool. But you know what? We in Britain have a little thing called The Freedom Of information Act, where we can LEGALLY request ANYBODIES information we wish, So I urge everyone to use this as a template and do just that, maybe I'll find a handy list of politicians who voted "Aye" on this invasive bill. HAVE AT YA! I know it's usually a ball-ache, don't worry I saved you the hassle there and you may use a pseudonym if you wish -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

TEMPLATE HERE

Image by this fabulous illustrator, Scarfolk Council 

[swallowthemind]

New York Times press conference/ interview with Trump (abridged) -- Pro Climate change journalist: Mr President, I am concerned about your stance on basic arithmetic, in particular you state two plus two equals five, but two plus two doesn't equal five because mathematics illustrate that isn't correct, are you going to change your stance on this?

Trump : ya know, I am looking really close at this, I mean who's to say we really know for sure two plus two doesn't equal five?

Pro Climate change journalist : Well, you could add it up with your fing..

Trump : well my grandfather he was a great mathematician and he built the greatest, finest abacus ya know? He wove principal mathematics from willow and beads.. now if he were here he might be able to advise, now some might say I am brilliant at calculus, I mean better than the head of mathematics in Bangladesh, just great ya know, I've won awards for my bean counting..

Pro Climate change journalist (interjects, exasperated,) : well look; here’s two fingers, and two more fingers and that adds up to...

Trump (interrupts): I'm keeping an open mind, ya know, but a lot of smart people without calculators would disagree, maybe we need to look at how we do basic arithmetic?

Pro Climate change journalist : *facepalm*

Trump : *to adviser unintelligible (surprisingly!)

[swallowthemind]

Climate change deniers be like... 

[swallowthemind]

A Temperamental Tempus Fugitive - C Barry 2016  

---

Time is a true currency

I have let it rot more than food

I have wasted its resource far more often than water

At least there is sustainability in place for food, of sorts, you can't grow time, only endure it

At work: You can buy days off by spending time, the logic is flawed from the off

Meanwhile: there is a cycle, intrinsically linked to the waste of water, you cannot waste this finite resource, Adam’s ale is plentiful by comparison, via osmosis it'll piss down upon you a few weeks later

TIME meanwhile, is ever in short supply

--

Or is it?

Right now it would seem, I have too much time

I am over indulged on seconds, minutes, hours that weigh heavy as bonds

Procrastination is bound to time therefore it is part of tempus economy

Prostituting our mortality

It has never felt so wasteful

Before apathy was just a daily act

Now it seems like it was an addiction, a reflex I couldn't prevent

Ingrained idly in my bones

[swallowthemind]

Bloom ‘What Is Life?’ review by Craigus Barry Nov 2016

Reminiscent somewhat of the crest of the 90s, Bloom whisks us along into turbulent realities upon waves of brittle, gentle, but instantly infectious, new-wave inflected dream-pop. Taken aback by its shimmering vibe, “Pop” seems about right. A dirty word in today’s climate of one track ipod shuffle millennials mentality, maybe, but Bloom craft well woven pop in the oldest sense, each offering here is daringly weaved with both intimacy and intricacies.         .

With it’s accapella preamble softly backed, “such a shame” kicks off debut, ‘What Is Life?’, building upon a simple choral line of ahhs, a song emerges. Verse couplets of close harmony (from Emily & Megan,) are met with muted runs and lyrical twist of guitar conveying a tone of childlike innocence that would make you smile like a rugrat watching a bud unfurl in strata rays of spring. The chorus unleashes a chromatic motif that will linger for long afterwards, insistently embedding itself within the psyche. That said, there’s a playfully inventive, yet astute sense of melodic understanding & dynamic constraint in all the harmonies on display here.

Perhaps sugar sweet to some, but executed with utmost sincerity as it is upon ‘What Is Life?’, this conveys a deeper message beneath it’s sheen, and the gamble pays off well.

Single “Shout”: whilst anointed topmost with it’s histrionic chorus, has beneath lurking verses that convey that elusive sense of underground networks of solidarity taking root, affording  each other to grow in confidence and be able to express in a far greater magnitude than as one. A positive message of optimism which is neatly summed up by the accompanying video for this track: which deals with Mycelium spores neath’ the earth.

Lead guitars (by Jamie,) lift from both Taking Heads, and Modest Mouse, (maybe more “modern” reference points would be Dirty Projectors & Alt- J,?) with a lilting, consistently percussive approach, snugly filling the gaps between the rhythm. The twin guitars here maybe even nodding towards Aztec Camera, what with the blend of acoustic, and slap-back angular lead?

Elsewhere, numbers like ‘Not Enough’ acquire rapid fire delivery, that builds into an exquisite refrain before unleashing an ear worm chorus that burrows deep inside any deep seeded cynicism.  Nestled neath’ the nuance are cutting lyrical subjects : love, lost or gained, loneliness, sadness and compromise.  Whilst ‘Try’, draws us precariously close to the precipice of an abys, but the strength and unity of friendship prevails & becomes a prosperous blanket from the evils of the world. This is a ballad that brings to mind Alisha’s Attic, in a strange way, with sweetened “bah bah” refrains and perhaps more oddly(?), a Rob Crow/ Pinbackesq (all too brief,) lead break that just shimmers and ebbs with promise.

The comforting Casio tones of ‘Nothing’, usher in more rocks n’ gems exchanges, and the lead here vamps and performs twists of counterpoint that snake melodically around and along the song itself, this is perhaps Bloom at it’s most deceptive and devilishly inventive, with it’s off kilter timings and cunning rhythmic ideas that holds, drops & releases.  

‘Tiny’ meanwhile, brings to my mind the nursery vocal lines of Weezer’s ‘Pink Triangle’, this is by comparison, as fragile as it’s description of shells and ocean reefs, nakedly honest. At two minutes in there’s a smidgen of Bjork in the middle eight here, yearning, yet filled with primal awe.

Closer, ‘Letting Go’, is another touching and somewhat hard to take ballad about trepidation of extremes - life over death,  swimming in it’s refrains of reverberated keys : “choosing love over fear”, it’s heart-breakingly gorgeous but ends with a single line of advice in deciding: “CHOOSING LOVE” . If you allow the album to loop you dive straight back into the oohs that you entered with in a mobius strip of warmth.

Throughout it’s duration, ‘What Is Life’ unloads cunningly crafted compositions, It brings to mind the spirit of Supertramp and 10cc at their most aavantpop, albeit much sparser in it’s tight delivery. The no-nonsense approach to the lyrics is neither overtly verbose, nor over-laden with layers of metaphor, but this simplicity finely balanced as it is here, lends strength to the material that is woven from strong, driving melodies. Overall, what we have here is the song being at the forefront, sometimes exposed nakedly upon bare bones, ones of assertive melody. The song breathes once more, afresh.  

Bloom’s debut, ‘What Is Life?’ is available here on limited cassette and LP (both in coloured vinyl limited edition, or regular black shellac,) you can also purchase it as zeros and ones that hum in various boxes with wires, and microprocessor bits.  

Words : Craigus Barry

[swallowthemind]

7Shades 'Bursting (Exploded)'|Various Artists REVIEW 

From Slapmag, find the rest of the issue here as a free download or pick up a copy from a shop in Worcestershire

[swallowthemind]

Watership Down: AMV - Bright Eyes

Existential viddy reviews #1 Rabbits meet a nasty end and the concept of a Lagomorpha afterlife with accompanying DMT visions on impending demise, is explored, complete with ferryman shrouded bunny of death. The discorporate bun buns run off into the forest as veiled waifs.. Awww