Ashley Simpson

Fortress Dare

Built to withstand a rigorous briefing from Producers, complete with the Rabid Beast On The Threshold. General Goodall looks on and surveys his handiwork.

My Alter Ego

Based on classic 8-bit hero, Mega Man.

The WorkWalk

Hello

Recently, I've been walking to work quite extensively. Having been directed to walkit.com by one of the techies here at Dare, I decided to give it a bash. Except I just disregarded the suggested route and went my own way by consulting my A-Z. As you can see here, the blue route is Walkit's suggestion, at a mere 4.6 miles. My route, highlighted in a fetching bilious green, is just over 5 miles. I seem to have developed an almost-permament double-blister on my right foot, but I'm doing well in my pavement-pounding pursuits.



The interesting side-note to all this leg work is the tendency to see something more exciting than the inside of a tunnel, and I'll try to upload a selection of photos as I come by them on my travels. For now, I'll just post these two; 1. Of a fetching leopard-skin mini and 2. Of an inspiring quote which I is ironically achieved through the act of vandalism.

Bits & Pieces

I've been slack, and for that I apologise. A few things to say:

1. I've had my head shaved again. It looks mean. But I've had a lot of stick this morning from co-workers.
2. Check out the new songs from the mighty Kings Of Leon here - I can't stop playing them.
3. On Wednesday I fell asleep on the tube after getting pissed and ended up three stops past mine. First time that's ever happened.
4. How cool is this guy's shirt:

The Science Of Sleep

Michel Gondry is a creative visionary par excellence. He could be also be accurately described as totally off his rocker. His latest film, The Science Of Sleep, is so bizarre, you will be scratching your head and chuckling in bemusement. Gondry is one of those select few which can be classed as a risk-taker; you will have never seen a film like this before. Even his creative flourishes in Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind pale in comparison to the all-out, stream-of-consciousness approach to this film.

The basic premise is that Stephane (Gael Garcia Bernal, of the wonderful Motorcycle Diaries fame) cannot distinguish between when he is awake and when he is dreaming, oftentimes leading him to commit acts of randomness in his waking life. The plot revolves around his attempts to construct a meaningful romantic relationship with his neighbour, Stephanie (played by Charlotte Gainsbourg, also seen in 21 Grams). Although the plotline is a little thin, the dream sequences are so brilliantly conceived and flawlessly executed; that this become a moot point. Much of the dream sequences are created using traditional stop-motion animation techniques, and the 'studio' of Stephane's mind is made entirely from corrugated cardboard. At one point, Stephane is made to dress up in a mouse suit and play the drums as he sings a song to Stephanie.

In a world where the banal is king, and every form of entertainment seems to follow the same rules, Gondry is a brilliant breath of fresh air. He has set himself apart in the world of filmmaking (with only two films under his belt) with a kind of surrealism that even Salvador Dali would be proud of. When future generations look back on the Noughties, Gondry will be a brilliant speck of cellophane shining amidst the dross.

The Genius Of Jack Kerouac

For my second 'rare genius author' post this year, I'd like to bring your attention to 'King of the Beats', Jack Kerouac; the legendary beatnik poet/author of the 50s and 60s, who encapsulated his wild travels in the form of his 'spontaneous prose'. I have been a huge admirer of Keroauc since I first read 'On The Road' a number of years ago, even creating a self-promo Flash piece | Abstract Birth | in my final year at Uni which was based as his free-form, almost Jazz-like expression of images and ideas.

I reread 'Dharma Bums' last year and have recently followed that up by finishing 'Big Sur' this week. If there is one man responsible for the raging wanderlust that is currently surging through my veins, it is Jack Kerouac. He is also responsible for my recent fascination with Buddhism, and the meditation practices of samadhi and vipassana, culminating in my visit to the British Museum to learn a little bit more about the Buddha's history (more coming in a future post).

'Big Sur' is one of Jack Kerouac's later books, and details his descent into a feverish insanity after the unimagined and huge success he had obtained after the publication of 'On The Road'. Struggling with his own demons, Kerouac enters a booze-fuelled state of madness, and as such, this book is a dark, tempestuous read which left me feeling a little depleted. This is Kerouac's darker half to the exuberance of 'On The Road' and 'Dharma Bums' but is still essential reading for any Kerouac fan.

Also, the cover is rather beautifully designed...

The Black Keys, Shepherds Bush - 28.02.07

Only once in a blue moon do I find a new current band whose every new album contains songs that I like; not like, love. The Black Keys are definitely one of those. I first heard their music back in my Uni days, maybe as long as 3 years ago. I heard the second album Thickfreakness and was blown away by the dirty riffs of singer/guitarist Dan Auerbach over the primal urgency of Patrick Carney's drumbeats. I caught them live at the Wedgewood Rooms in Portsmouth, and finally got around to seeing them again in Shepherds Bush last Wednesday with my cousin (pictured below).

They opened with the opening track of their latest album, Magic Potion, and from them on it was just over on hour of hard-hitting blues-rock. The Black Keys generate a surprising fullness of sound for only two members - and Dan, the singer, is surprisingly charismatic, and was often speaking to the crowd between songs over a sheet of feedback from his guitar. They played one of my favourite tracks - 'Have Love Will Travel' - but sadly didn't perform their romping cover of the Beatles' 'She Said, She Said'.

My only minor gripe was the way Auerbach sung the lyrics a fraction more protracted than he does on the recorded versions - I'm guessing this was an attempt to put on a show that wasn't identical to listening to the albums on volume 11, but it made it difficult to scream along with a moronic grin on your face, as you thrashed your foot against the floor!

God bless rock'n'roll.

(Below is a picture of my cousin Daniel and I in the midst of the gig, beneath that is a video of The Black Keys' latest single, Your Touch)

Bognor Beach

Taken during 'fairly' early morning on my recent weekend trip to Butlins: