Tuesday, 4 September 2018

Vital Idle Plant Mystery (tenth letter to Lowri)


On a Sunday trip to Sale Water Park just past the Chester Road Bridge I was waylaid by a young man with a bike who’d seen something strange in Bridgewater Canal. Bottles, cans, plastic bags, footballs, fish, ducks, swans, geese: these are the indigenous flora and fauna of Bridgewater Canal. How had a cannabis plant ended up a hand span underwater? Obviously he needed advice from a person with longer hair than his, as everyone knows that knowledge of cannabis sativa increases in direct proportion to hair length. We marvelled a moment at this biological conundrum, until I hit upon a possible aquatic sativa hypothesis: someone had feared a police raid and hidden their plant in the canal where they could return later and fish it out. On returning a few hours later, the mysterious hash plant was gone. What really went on there? Had the mysterious plant been rescued by a pot diver? Had stoner swans nibbled it all up? Maybe a disgruntled lover had tried to drown it in a jealous rage.

Disgruntled partner: “Yo love yo spliff more ‘un me!”
Gruntled partner: “Too right, innit bro!”
Disgruntled partner: “I’m drownin’ yo plant in the canal.”
Gruntled partner: “Ha ha ha! No one talks to me like that! No one talks to anyone like that!”

The mystery of how a large cannabis plant made a brief guest appearance in the canal will probably always remain. In the end it’s just another silly story to tell someone in Brazil. It could have been a male plant as the males just don't get you high!

Facebook has been so useful these past few days, reminding me it’s my birthday soon. What would I do without these constant tedious reminders? Maybe watch the world cup final? On Monday Simon the signer-onner wished me happy birthday for next Sunday, and told me it was also the day of the cup final. How fishy that I hadn’t even realised this! Sun Ra’s weird and wonderful “Space is the Place” film is showing at Home and that’s more my cup of Saturnic jazz. If England play Saturn in the final your waters will have been proven half right. Whoever wins, it’s an exciting time for Mediterranean vegetables, as courgettes and aubergines are on special offer at Aldi, or All Die as I call it in a questionable attempt at “black humour.” I’ve never heard people talk of “white humour.” Is this racist?

Through the window of a 15 bus I saw a cyclist with an anti-fracking banner balanced precariously on the back of her bike so I knew I’d got the right day for the protest against frackers Cuadrilla and their appeal to extend an injunction against protesters at the Preston New Road fracking site. It turned out that this was Amy S. Olive who I’d met once before at an Acorn Tenants Union meeting. Minnie Mirshahi had told me about this demo, but she didn’t make it herself even though she lives just round the corner at Islington Mill. She must have been busy Minnying elsewhere. A huge amount of statements in opposition to the appeal had been delivered earlier, so the appeal was going to go on much longer than just that morning. When I arrived at the county court I pushed the number of protesters into double figures. Most of them were dressed in yellow, but I was dressed in red, just like those confusing world cup matches. Fifteen people turned up to protest, and most of us left just after midday for some lunch at the nearby People’s History Museum, kindly bought for us all by a sweet old lady called Julie who was wearing a pro-immigration Paddington bear T-shirt. We all got to know each other a bit better over lunch, and somehow I ended up giving the last four remaining protestors an acapella rendition of “It’s a Heatwave!” A girl called Samar said, “I don’t think I would like this band.” 

It was nice of the government to pay my travel expenses for a day of protesting against their fracking foolishness, but I had to sacrifice two and a half hours to job searching at Standguide on Piccadilly Plaza. This is a company who are paid by the government to help people find work. This amounts to providing a slower internet connection than the public libraries so is a pointless waste of tax money. I amused another job searcher by telling him I might well try to find work by writing an article about Standguide for a newspaper, but I’ve been threatening to do this for well over a year without actually bothering to do it.

Later in Vinyl Exchange Joel the bassist of the excellent Easter sold me two CDs by American psychedelic primitives Carlton Melton and Australia’s most sensitive and philosophical band, Cosmic Psychos. I crossed the road to Piccadilly Records to flip through lots of vinyl I can’t afford to buy and was greeted by the very familiar tones of “The Fifteenth” by Wire. I punched the air and shouted “Yes!” like a football fan whose squid propelled wheelbarrow has just scored a goal, and sang the whole song whilst Andy whooped from the counter. It was the fish teeth! Fifteen people had been protesting outside the county court, and the fifteenth is also my birthday. There was a silent spell afterwards so whether they liked it or not I gave them an acapella rendition of “The Other Window,” the next song from “154.” Great music followed me about as I was slightly amazed that they were playing The Stranglers “Golden Brown” in Nationwide Building Society so I got to do a bit more punk rock karaoke. Outside on Market Street a very good rasta singer was singing reggae karaoke, with a friend on bongos, so I stuck around to listen until he finished his busk by singing Bob Marley’s “Redemption Songs” with an acoustic guitar instead of a backing track. I went for an organic cider in an almost deserted Peer Hat, where it seemed that someone had stolen poor Michelle Woods’ bag with her house keys and other valuables. Aki the artist turned up for the life drawing class in Aatma, and whilst he waited cut out some ugly Donald Trump heads from old flyers for a play so I could use them to make a hideous sign to hold on Friday’s anti-Trump demo. I met Julie again at the anti-Trump mobilisation meeting but was slightly disappointed that none of the speakers mentioned his despicable war on elephants, although Trump is guilty of so much bullshit we’d have been there well into the next day if it all got spoken about.

 I couldn’t believe I was actually at a musical concert for the first time since Friday. It had been so long I’d almost forgotten what gigs were like: the roar of the greasepaint, the smell of the crowd. This was actually a relatively small crowd who were not at all smelly. The upstairs room in Marble is quite small and hot so we were all glad about that. According to my friend Vicky Middles, Dinosaur Jr fans are the smelliest. I think she may be wrong and Stranglers fans might be smellier. The only person I know in Manchester who might possibly make it to more gigs than me is Cath Aubergine and she was there, as was Laurence who occasionally puts on nice quiet gigs where he gives everyone cakes he bakes. Downstairs at the bar I got talking to a guy called Brian because he was wearing a Sonic Youth “Confusion is Sex” T-shirt. It turned out he was just three years old when I saw Sonic Youth for the first time, supported by Mudhoney at Kilburn National on the “Daydream Nation” tour. I told him it was the most excited I’d ever been at a gig, yes, even including Hotpants Romance gigs!  I am so sorry. How can you ever forgive me? We exchanged opinions on the relative merits of various Sonic Youth albums and it turned out we both liked Lee’s songs the most. The extraordinary drummer Andrew Cheetham of Easter was there too, along with Nick Ainsworth of Former Bullies and Secret Admirer. The always amiable RL Perry had put the gig on and even after a few drinks he was still Comfortable on a Tightrope. It was the second time I’d seen Wurms and the first time I’d seen Vital Idles. Both bands sing out of tune so I think you would have appreciated them. Vital Idles remind me a little of early Wire, but much more ramshackle. The drummer of Vital Idles seemed quite familiar but I couldn’t place him at first until I realised it was Matt, who used to go out with our firm friend Kate Armitage. It was uncannily funny that I was carrying my important papers and water in the Hotpants Romance shoulder bag that Kate gave me when I went round to her posh flat for an emergency shower, as for the rest of the anti-leather jacket heatwave I’d been using a Talk Normal shoulder bag. It was nice to see Matt again even without his beard, and it struck me as funny that the night his band were playing Manchester Kate was playing a gig in London. Then again maybe I am just easily amused. 

I am now using the free newspaper with a picture of that relentless incompetent bozo Boris Johnson wearing a silly helmet and waving a Union Jack to mop up water that leaks from my fridge, drowning him in effigy.

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