HIROSHIMA YEAH!
issue 46
december 2008

�If it's a dry life that you want� (� Eels) then you�re probably one of the vapid dullards who had nothing better to do with their bleak, insignificant little lives than complain about the BRILLIANT Russell Brand radio show. Well, congrats, �cos you�ve now succeeded in safeguarding Saturday night against anything more edgy than worthless �talent� contests and rip-off lottery shows populated by grinning, cosmetically-enhanced CLONES. Hope you�re happy now, you fucking fascist CUNTS. This month�s HY! Hunk (on the right in the above pic) is Robert Dellar (pictured with an �ex-bird�) who is �by an accident of nature, a heterosexual producer of �crappy urban books� (� The Idler), mental health activist/charity organiser, musician, man about town and diagnosed alcoholic�. We LOVE Robert and, dearest reader, we love YOU too. �They� will NEVER win 'cos HY! is all about love, LIFE, cider, DRUGS. HY! will put the lead back in your wilting pencil, the tiger back in your tank. HY! will assault you sexily like a special lover SHOULD. This issue is by Mark Ritchie and Gary Simmons and is dedicated to free-thinkers and iconoclasts EVERYWHERE.

A note on this month�s extra-special-�cos-it�s-the-festive-season-and-we-love-you wraparound cover, by Gary: �This is a copy of my 1979 painting �The Enemy of the World�. It took me about a YEAR to do, what with college and shit. It�s very Dali-esque, I know. All the things I was into at the time are in it: Nat West Tower under construction, radio controlled gliders, Naomi-the-bitch from school (ANOTHER Jewish princess� Amy, what have you DONE?!), a minge (coz I was sexually frustrated� still AM), chrysalises (coz college mate Ken and I had a �thing� about them). Can you see Scotland cut-out of Ian�s chest? Dunno why. He wasn�t Scottish, just a FAGGOT!! The reference for my posture was Johnny Rotten on the cover of some mag, with the title �Enemies of the World��.

BLACK SPARROW
Sitting beneath a picture of one of my literary heroes,
I scribble words that nobody wants to read,
as inoffensive ska music plays,
candles flicker
and �bohemian professionals� chatter in subdued tones.
This is a nice place,
maybe TOO nice considering it�s named after
one of my literary heroes� publishing houses.
I wonder what HE would think,
if he were to walk in now,
bleary eyed after 14 years in the grave.
I doubt that he would be impressed
by the expensive drinks
or the inoffensive ska music
or the terrible POLITENESS of it all.
But still, he is dead and I am not
and I don�t really mind the place.
After all, it�s merely a pit stop
on my own journey to the grave
and the view from the window is nice �
piles of rubbish
and the dark, silent windows of tenement flats.

THE THRILL IS GONE
It seems that the magic diminishes
the older you get.
Walking in the rain becomes a nuisance,
gazing at the moon in a cold, clear sky
feels as meaningless as a passing shadow.
Friends disappear,
await heart transplants,
date rent boys,
leaving you bewildered,
drunk and alone
on sheets stained with miracles.

WEEKENDERS
Reminiscing in a bar with an old friend
Going over old times on Friday night

Flesh dissolved in the acid of light
Letting the beer work its magic.

Office workers sucking up the air
Dissecting their futile working week

Losers and winners drink and speak
Needing to believe the myth of life.

Emotions charged with a million volts
Bringing the Saturday hangover on

Throats dry and humble in the purple dawn
Woken from dreams but believing the myth.

EUNOIA
The sun rises like a blessing
and, underneath,
there are kindergartens,
graveyards,
firework moments that shimmer then die.
Pounding the paving stones,
we lower ourselves into the landscape,
hoping for luck and joy
but grateful for anything at all,
any tiny sliver of sweetness.
Sometimes, that's all we need
to keep us away from the edge,
away from the barren landscape
that doesn't appear on any map.
It can be a smile from a passing stranger,
a fleeting moment of beautiful connection
or words falling like confetti
in an early summer sky
that dark clouds never trouble.

13.7 BILLION YEARS OF HELL
Selected Dispatches from an Unwilling Player of God�s Little Game
By Gary Simmons

Can�t be fucked to tell you about the 30 year-old Paki bloke who came into the front as I was sorting out the security camera. He shook my hand, said he lives three doors down (no he fuckin� DON�T, that�s ALAN�S gaff!) and said �Can I ask you something?� I shrugged and said �Go on� (thinking, God�) and he went into some fuckin� story about petrol, his car and� MONEY! So I said �OK, what do you WANT?� Then he had the audacity to ask me for �24!!!! I said �Nah, but you see those builders across the road?� (white, thuggish, unfriendly CUNTS. Cold, calculating, arrogant, humourless, sexist, racist BASTARDS all! I just get a bad feeling from these worker-ant morons. DRONES! Why don�t they employ foreign CUNTS in their workforce? It�s all West-Ham-flags-hanging-in-the-cab-of-the-grab-truck). I said �THEY earn lots of money, go ask THEM.� What a FUH-KIN CUNT!!!! �Too many idiots, rape and kill� � Brainbombs.

BORN-IN-A-FUCKIN�-STABLE GEROGARY WOULD LIKE, WHILST BEING A�GAY IN A MINGE-HOLE, CRABS ON HIS DICK-HEAD, TO TAKE THIS IRRITATING ANAL OPPORTUNITY TO WISH HIS HALF-A-DOZEN-OR-SO READERS LOTS OF BOOZE, SEXUAL GRATIFICATION, RECORDS, BLU-RAY DVDS AND DOSH, FROM NOW UNTIL THEY GET DISPATCHED TO THE NEXT WORLD. OH, WHAT IS IT ALL ABOUT? WHY CAN�T �THEY� JUST HAVE XMAS EVERY 4 YEARS, LIKE THE SODDING OLYMPRICKS, EH? NOW THERE�S A GOOD IDEA. ANYWAY, HERE�S MY FESTIVE RINSE-OF-BOILING-WATER-UP-THE-BUTT-HOLE PLAYLIST
GG ALLIN � GG ALLIN�S XMAS SONG B/W ALGAE AFTERBIRTH�S SANTA CLAUS IS DEAD. 7� (Black & Blue Records. 19??)
CRASS � MERRY CRASSMAS. 7� (C.R.A.S.S. 1981)
THE FALL � NO XMAS FOR JOHN QUAYS. Cassette (Bootleg of a John Peel session. 1978?)
GARY GLITTER � ANOTHER ROCK AND ROLL CHRISTMAS. 7� (Arrested� sorry, I mean ARISTA. 1984)
THE GEROGERIGEGEGE � WHITE CHRISTMAS WHITE SPERM. CD (From the album �Singles 1985-1993�. �This is our Christmas song. This track has the tune of live in 1990�. Work In Progress. 1994)
JOHNNY RUBBISH � SANTA�S ALIVE. 7� (Piss-take of the Bee Gees �Staying Alive�� not that it NEEDS a piss-take, GOD! Check out Mr Rubbish�s �Living In N.W.3 4JR (Anarchy In The U.K.)� which is actually FUNNY, unlike THIS waghalter�s attempt at humour. Lydon ended up in CALIFORNIA, don�t ya know? United Artists Records. 1978)
SPARKS � THANK GOD IT�S NOT CHRISTMAS. LP (From the album �Kimono My House�, which has one of THE best cover photographs for an LP EVER. Simply OUTSTANDING! Wish I could get the very rare point-of-sale/window display items that I can recall being displayed in the record shop in Walthamstow when DADDO bought it for me after school one Thursday in 1974. Island Records. 1974)
MONTY PYTHON � CHRISTMAS IN HEAVEN. LP (From the soundtrack album to Python�s �Meaning of Life� film. CBS. 1983)
THE FALL � NO XMAS FOR JOHN QUAYS. LP (From the album �Live at the Witch Trials�� my only Fall VINYL LP, shame on me. A Step-Forward Record. 1979)
PASKA � CHRISTMAS ALBUM. 7� (Finnish nutter Paska shouts and screams his way through all your favourite Xmas tunes: �Silent Night�, �Santa Claus is Coming to Town�, �Rudolf the Rednosed Reindeer�, �Jingle Bells� and MORE! Paggie�s mum LOVES this� and so do I. 12-year-old-Virgin-Mary-white-vinyl. Meeuw Muzak. 2002)
THE FALL � (WE WISH YOU) A PROTEIN CHRISTMAS. DBL 7� (Lovely 2x7� gatefold package� why not put the record this song is on in your Christmas stocking� AAAAHH AAAH AHH AHH AHHHH AHH AHH AHHH!!! Action Records. 2003)
ALAN MILMAN SECT � PUNK ROCK XMAS (Mark put this on SOME comp cassette which is SOMEWHERE in my �various� section. I can�t be fagged to look, ask Mark. Well, that�s what he�s THERE for! God DAMN it!!)
TV SMITH � XMAS BLOODY XMAS. 7� (TV is a fucking MASTER lyricist and this here is a perfectly executed example of Xmas scepticism and social comment. Just don�t let TV pass his armchair-expert opinion on NASA�s Mars rovers� Mr Smithy-poo gave up on them after just ONE glitch. They were designed to last for 3 months. They have functioned for almost 6 YEARS! Just because you weren�t approached to do the Country Life butter ad. Damaged Goods. 2004)
WHITEHOUSE � RIGHT TO KILL: DEDICATED TO DENNIS ANDREW NILSEN. LP (�Tit Pulp�, �Prorapist�, �Death Penalty�, �Bloodfucking�, �Queen Myra� and more. �IF YOU ARE INTO SEXUAL VIOLENCE AND SADISM OF THE MOST REFINED NATURE THEN YOU HAVE A DATE WITH DESTINY. WHITEHOUSE IS THAT DESTINY.� And� my Xmas wish came TRUE! Merry fucking Christmas everybloody!! Come Organisation. 1983)

HY! COMPOSTITION
To win a copy of Pergolesi�s �Stabat Mater�, as reviewed in the last issue of Hiroshima Yeah!, simply answer the following Bearded British Beery BIGOT of a question �
What did Caveman write on the wall of the Tower Records Receiving Department circa 1992?
A � I DRINK BROWN ALE, I DO.
B � YOU DON�T LOOK ENGLISH.
C � BILLY AND GARY ARE GAYERS. DO NOT BEND FOR THEM.
Answers on a pornographic postcard, please. The first correct entry to be pulled out of neighbour Doug�s kindly donated big red gift-box on 10th January 2009 will have Purge-hole-nastie�s Stab-at-farter a�wingin� its way to them via 4th class post. Overseas foreign CUNTS can wait a bit longer while we blow-up the HY! rubber dinghy. Good luck and don�t forget your fuckin� address.
Send to � HY! pus-goes-lousy compost-heap-fiction, Gartina, Hermitage Walk, London, E18 2BN.

MUSIC
EVERCLEAR � SLOW MOTION DAYDREAM (CAPITOL)
Well, this sounds more 1993 than 2003 (the year of its release), what with the grungy guitars, angsty lyrics and the quaint conceit of a �secret�, unlisted track that is actually BETTER than any of the �proper� songs. Nonetheless, I�ve always had a soft spot for Everclear and, though they�ll probably never top the �Sparkle and Fade� and �So Much for the Afterglow� albums, there�s still plenty of dumb rock fun to be had here and, sometimes, dumb rock fun is EXACTLY what you NEED.

PETER BRUNTNELL � PETER AND THE MURDER OF CROWS (LOOSE)
Despite being somewhat underwhelmed by his recent American Music Club support slot (see HY!#44), the �1.99 price tag made this promo CD a must-have. After all, PB�s 1999 album �Normal for Bridgwater� WAS something of a minor classic. Strangely enough, opener �False Start� sounds distinctly AMC-ish and is probably my favourite track for that very reason. But there are plenty of other strong songs here, such as the Teenage Fanclub-esque �Domestico�, the melancholic �Clothes of Winter� and the epic �Cold Water Swimmer�.

BONNIE �PRINCE� BILLY � IS IT THE SEA? (DOMINO)
Since his first single with Palace Brothers, I�ve always really liked Will Oldham, who�s released more than his fair share of fantastic music over the years. But, after a while, the heart grows weary and the wallet empty, especially as Oldham brings out about five new records per year. I always try and check in with him every now and then, though, and this �3.99 promo CD gave me an ideal chance. Recorded live at Edinburgh�s Queens Hall, this is Will backed by local folkies Harem Scarem and Alex Neilson in front of a reverential crowd. The female backing vocals lend some songs an eerie �Wicker Man� style vibe and, along with versions of older tunes like �A Minor Place� and �Arise Therefore�, there�s a lovely reading of the traditional (via the way of another Scottish folkster, Alisdair Roberts) �Molly Bawn� which takes Oldham back, full-circle, to those early Palace Brothers records I adore so much.

SCOTT WALKER � STRETCH / WE HAD IT ALL (BGO)
Yes, it�s Scott Walker. Yes, it�s songs by the likes of Tom T. Hall, Randy Newman, Billy Joe Shaver and Jimmy Webb. But, cuties, these two-LPs-on-one-CD are NOTHING compared to the absolute gob-smacking, cock-quivering GENIUS of Scott�s first four solo albums and, to be honest, how COULD they be? This is a classic example of someone�s too-good-to-be-true back catalogue casting a pallid glow over everything they follow it up with and that�s a shame because a lot of this stuff is pretty damn GREAT, it�s just not TOTALLY AMAZING. No wonder the poor dear went a bit mental.

WOODEN WAND � JAMES & THE QUIET (ECSTATIC PEACE!)
This is unexpectedly lovely, a twisted take on folk music with James Jackson Toth laying down the law about love (�We Must Also Love the Thieves�), blood (er, �Blood�) and other important matters with a couple of Sonic Youthers providing stellar instrumental support. When James is joined by singing sister Jessica on the likes of �The Invisible Children� and �Wired to the Sky�, it�ll make you dreamily wonder why you�re wasting your life pretending to like that new Kings of Leon album (what the hell does �Sex on Fire� mean ANYWAY? Sounds like an advert for genital herpes).

GROUPER � DRAGGING A DEAD DEER UP A HILL (TYPE)
Don�t let that title fool you, this is a deliciously sombre, quiet album that�s equally at home on soft, sober Sunday mornings and frazzled, cider-soaked Saturday nights. This is the sound of someone (Liz Harris) strumming and singing to themselves in a faraway room. You can�t hear exactly what�s going on, can�t really make out many words, instead you only catch snippets of melody and meaning. But it�s bewitching, beguiling and also pretty BEAUTIFUL.

RYAN ADAMS & THE CARDINALS � CARDINOLOGY (LOST HIGHWAY)
After the bootleg offerings reviewed in the last couple of issues, here�s a new, OFFICIAL release from his Ryan-ness. This one doesn�t immediately slap you in the face and yell �Classic!� but is instead more of a slow burning joy. Repeated listening reveals gorgeous pedal-steeled moments like �Born into a Light�, �Go Easy� and �Natural Ghost� while �Cobwebs�, �Crossed Out Name� and the sad �n� lovely rehab weepie �Stop� are just unbelievably GREAT. Lyrically, it sounds as if RA�s been through another failed romance, so who can BLAME him for a momentary lapse of taste on the album�s only out-and-out rocker �Magick�, which is actually a GOOD song, it just sounds a bit out of place amongst all the gentle, alt country angst.

AMERICAN MUSIC CLUB � EVERCLEAR REHEARSALS / MERCURY BAND DEMOS
Woke far too early and eventually got up and readied myself, leisurely. Walked into town. Rang Lee to tell her I wouldn�t be at work as I had to do jury duty. Posted a few things in the Charing Cross PO at about one minute before 9am. The woman who works there is REALLY nice. Then I went to the Henglers Circus and had a veggie breakfast and coffee. Good, it was. Looked round some shops, including a couple of charity shops, TK Max, Primark, Avalanche, etc. Showed up at the court at about 10.50am. A security guard searched my bag and I had to go through a scanner thingie. Went for a piss. They had signs up warning of discarded needles. Went into the juror�s room which was absolutely packed. Read a Metro till some woman came and ushered us through into Court 8 (this was at 11.15am. We�d been told to be there for 11). She explained a bit about what was going on and how, if we were picked to be on the jury, we�d have to attend court next week too (but not Monday �cos they were on strike!). She said the case was some assault thing. As expected. Then she read out everyone�s name and we had to say �Here�, like we were at school. She kept saying she would �depart� information to us, but she obviously meant �impart�. Then she asked if anyone would be unable to attend next week before telling us to go away for TWO HOURS, so I went and looked round some MORE shops. Saw a 2nd-hand copy of �� Rampton� by Ceramic Hobs in Mono as well as a Nocturnal Emissions CD and a copy of �150 Murderous Passions�. Saw big Michael from work in Debenhams. He was with some chick. Wandering about got a bit boring and I eventually got some nice rice snacks from Lidl and ate them by the river. Was back in court for about 1.55pm. We sat about till about 2.15 or 2.20 before the woman came in and told us that the trial wouldn�t be starting today and that, because we�d been �summoned� for THIS week, we were free to go and were no longer required. So THAT was good. A guy handed out pre-paid envelopes for us to claim back lost wages, etc. I went and had a quick half-pint of cider in the Arches (when I EVENTUALLY got someone to serve me, that is) and caught a train to Lanark at 2.47pm. A ticket guy came round but, for some reason, he completely ignored me, so I got a free ride! Went to Tesco in Lanark for a jar of curry sauce and looked in a couple of charity shops. It rained. Got the 4.20 bus home. Mum was home an hour after I got in and Maureen also came in with the dogs. She�d got these two limited edition AMC CDs for me, off their website, so I gave her the cash for them. I�ve had them as bootlegs before but it�s nice to have the proper artefacts in my grubby paws. A bit poignant too, as I only just found out that my AMC mate Michael recently had a HEART ATTACK (and I think he�s only about 37 or 38 too). Gary Pearson texted me earlier to let me know that. As Gary said, �Fuckin� hell!� Had soup and put something on for mum�s dinner. Told her all about my oh-so exciting day. She said some old guy had gone missing on Monday and loads of people were out searching for him, plus police helicopters. They eventually found him though and he was okay. I had a bath then had curry, rice and naan bread for my dinner and read some of my TV mag. Watched comedy till after midnight � �8 Out of 10 Cats�, �Alan Carr�s Celebrity Ding Dong� and a live Lee Mack stand-up show.

THE DANCING HORSE - ?
Hmmmm, THIS is nice, in a doesn�t-really-go-anywhere kinda way. It�s one long track of genteel keyboard drone that, given the chance, could lull warring nations into ambient acquiescence. Only trouble is, there�s little indication of WHO the CD is by or WHAT it�s called. The cover is populated by Egyptian style drawings and I�m only GUESSING that the artist is called The Dancing Horse since that name appears on the inside of the CD booklet. Oh well, whoever it is, it�s NICE� in a doesn�t-really-go-anywhere kinda way.

THE METEORS � MONKEY�S BREATH (ANAGRAM)
Here�s some �pure psychobilly�, 1985 style, and here are some random thoughts that entered my noggin while this CD played: The Cramps. Spaghetti Westerns. How come Boz Boorer got so fat? Should I spend three quid on that Russell Brand book about West Ham even though I don�t like football? The Stray Cats. That band from Dalkeith called Z28 were good, weren�t they? They played this kind of music too. Where�s the fuckin� postie?

BRIGHT EYES � DIGITAL ASH IN A DIGITAL URN (SADDLE CREEK)
The term �electro� scared me off getting this CD when it came out way back in 2005 but a �3-in-Missing price tag just CANNOT be argued with and now I�m wondering how I ever managed to live without utter CLASSICS like �Down in a Rabbit Hole�, �Hit the Switch� and �Easy/Lucky/Free� and Conor Oberst is SUCH a great songwriter that he can dabble in ANY genre he LIKES as far as I�m concerned. Anyway, this is not all THAT electro, really... it�s hardly fuckin� ERASURE.

GERMS � MIA: THE COMPLETE ANTHOLOGY (RHINO / SLASH)
Kinda ashamed to admit that I never really knew much about this late 1970s band until recently so this luscious 30-track compilation, complete with fact-packed booklet, is a RIGHT old eye-opener. Thanks, Grant! Germs sound like a barrel-load of laughs and punky fun and most of these songs are short and needle-sharp but, best of all, is the stunning 9� minute �Shut Down (Annihilation Man)�, the guitar sound on which would seem to pave the way for everyone from H�sker D� to Nirvana, who Germs guitarist Pat Smear would later go on to join. The circle is complete! Oh, and their self-mutilating, junkie singer Darby Crash was a PROPER �character� by all accounts, with his Iggy/GG Allin style stage antics.

WAYWARD SUNNS � SPONT (MTB)
Although the cover art may lead you to believe you�re in for something truly goth-tastic, this is more like psychedelic punk with a Brixton twist (good name for a cocktail, that - Brixton Twist). But more of the punk and less of the psychedelia (Smith) wouldn�t have gone amiss as too many of these songs PLOD rather than GALLOP. In the same year that this LP came out (1991), San Francisco�s Toiling Midgets were doing something similar but FAR superior on their �Son� album. Get THAT instead.

APE SHIT / INTRAVENOUS IN FURS (SMITH RESEARCH / BEN WATSON RECORDS)
Contact: [email protected] for ordering details
Oh, vinyl, how I�ve MISSED your crackly charms. This GORGEOUS long-playing artefact is a limited-to-100-copies black vinyl JOY. On one side, there�s the lo-fi lunacy of Jim MacDougall�s Ape Shit, where garage-punky songs with barmy improv lyrics referencing vicars, llamas and Leo Sayer (amongst OTHER things) are interspersed with short snippets of other people�s music and TV ads. There�s also a track of Jim reciting poetry at a tribute gig held for Mad Pride�s Pete Shaughnessy and the should-be-a-classic sing-along �I Like You� (chorus: �I like you� I really fuckin� do!�) If much of the Intravenous in Furs side sounds familiar then you�ve probably got their released-late-last-year CD-R (see HY!#34 for review). It�s a strange, sometimes unsettling, mix of silly lyrics and cryptic monologues about social services and a murdered schoolgirl. WELL odd. I was NOT expecting, however, a stoned-sounding, HILARIOUS cover of the old Rolf Harris hit �Sun Arise� right at the end. Genius!

MICKY SAUNDERS / DAN SUSNARA � IN A LUV FACTORY / THAT�S NOTHING NEW /
2002-2007 SINGLES
Contact: Micky Saunders, PO Box 1749, Chino Hills, CA 91709, USA or Dan Susnara, 7806 S. Kilpatrick, Chicago, IL 60652, USA
For over ten years now, Micky Saunders and Dan Susnara have been brightening up this dismal world, this �dirty little circle� (� Russell Brand) with their annual summer singles (initially released on cassette, more recently on CD). They always put a smile on my face and this year�s instalment is no exception. �In a Luv Factory� sounds like some long-lost 1960s Britbeat band � sort of like a Kinky Hollies, with a slightly psychedelic yet traditional feel. And, as always, Dan�s lyrics read more like REALLY GOOD poetry than song lyrics (�Morning train, on a bus, in a car park, in grey, frowning buildings, our own cage�). �That�s Nothing New� has more of a swinging, sunny kinda vibe, even though the lyrics are quite dark, dealing as they do with a relationship break-up. Two sides of the same coin and two FAB songs. To celebrate Micky and Dan�s annual collabs, there is also the �2002-2007 Singles� compilation which is a joy to behold, bringing together as it does poptastic hits like �Rotation�, �The Hello People� and �Contagious Clouds� as well as more experimental tracks �Summerage� and the spacey/lovely �Lava Lamp in D-Minor� and the heavier �Turn into Life�. The comp can be purchased for $10 from either of the above addresses and I�d recommend that you DO purchase it because it just OOZES love and, sometimes, love really IS all you need. Here�s to ten more productive years!

MILK ROAR - HANGING BASKET OF BABYLON www.myspace.com/milkroar
Well, this band is something of an oddity, really, sounding as they do like a mish-mash of Half Man Half Biscuit, I, Ludicrous and The Mighty Boosh. The oft-amusing lyrics reference myriad aspects of modern British life, including Lidl, celeb culture (the FUNNY �The London Look 2007/8�), �Star Trek�, cricket, religion (the brilliantly-titled �The Grim Croupier�) and the viler than VILE Jeremy Kyle. All good fun and it�s pretty darn rocking, too� especially the song about Lidl! Personally, I�m a big fan of their 75p Rice Snacks. Don�t knock it till you�ve TRIED it.

BOOKS
JAMES JOYCE � DUBLINERS (GRAFTON)
You know what it�s like when you�re a pseudo-intellectual teen, trying to read all those �classic� books that the pseudo-intellectual grown-ups TELL you to read: �War and Peace�, �Catch 22�, �The Great Gatsby�, yawn, yawn, YAWN. Add to that list James Joyce�s �Finnegans Wake�, a novel SO impenetrable and difficult that many people think it was written as a JOKE. I was given this book of short stories by my mate Joe who assured me of its fabness and, blow me down, he wasn�t wrong. This is simply GREAT writing. Joyce�s tales � including ones concerning first love (�Araby�), the desire to escape (�Eveline�), posh boys on-the-piss (�After the Race�), pervy old men in fields (�The Encounter�) and the simply STUNNING �The Dead� � are so deftly woven that I�m actually ASHAMED of myself for not having read them 20 years ago. Shame on ME, then. I felt a particular attachment to the story �Counterparts�, about an office worker �aching for the comfort of the public house�.

HARUKI MURAKAMI � AFTER DARK (VINTAGE)
This is a SHORT novel by MASTER Murakami�s standards (just under 200 pages) and, at times, it feels more like a screenplay as the reader is asked to imagine themselves as a camera zooming in on this and that, as an observer rather than a participant. The plot centres around a single night in a Japanese city, where a sensitive student and her sleepy sister, a jazz musician, workers in a �love hotel� and a character called The Man with No Face all feature prominently. Murakami�s usual blend of fantasy and reality mingle here to mesmerising effect as he gently explores many of the dark side avenues of human nature.

ANOTHER CHRISTMAS ON THE DOLE
Charlie hated Christmas so it was with a heavy heart that he observed the gaudy decorations festooning his local Employment Centre. It�s bad enough having to come for one of their three-month interrogations without all this shit, he thought as he sat down and waited for his name to be called. There were some leaflets scattered on a table so he pretended to read through one as he glanced at all the staff bustling around, looking industrious and important. I despise each and every one of you cunts, Charlie thought, before allowing himself to drift into a daydream which saw him torching the entire building with all of the screaming, terrified staff trapped inside.
However, his brief reverie was ended when a stern-faced young woman came over and told him to follow her. Right away, Charlie knew that the signs weren�t good, for the woman took him into one of the private rooms that were normally reserved for people who were having their benefit stopped.
�Sit down, Mr. Fordham,� the woman said. Although she hadn�t introduced herself, she wore a badge bearing the name Steph. She settled herself behind a desk and began tapping away at a computer keyboard, without looking up. It was a few moments before she spoke again.
�How are we today?� she finally asked.
�Fine, thanks,� Charlie replied. �How�s yourself?�
�Quite well, thank you. Now, I�ve been reading through your file and I�m afraid to say that I�m extremely concerned about a couple of issues.�
�Really? And what might they be, now?�
�Well, the main area of concern is the fact that you�ve now been claiming benefit with us for the past two and a half years and, as far as I can see, you haven�t been making any headway whatsoever in recent months, in terms of attending job interviews. Would you care to comment on that, Mr. Fordham?�
�Well, it isn�t like I�ve not been trying, my dear. I mean, I apply for plenty jobs, but I can hardly help it if they don�t even want to interview me, can I?�
�Do you think there�s any particular reason for this?� the woman asked.
�I don�t know, but the fact that I�m only a couple of years off retirement age probably has something to do with it, I expect.�
�Mr. Fordham, employers are required by law not to discriminate against any potential applicant due to age, so I�m sure that has nothing whatsoever to do with it.�
�You might be right,� Charlie said. �Maybe I�m just unlucky, then.�
�Well, I�m happy to tell you that your luck is about to change!�
The woman was smiling for the first time and Charlie�s heart began to plummet.
�The new supermarket that�s just opened in the Valhalla Towers shopping precinct are looking for seasonal staff and they have a special relationship with us which means that we can fast track any applicants to them who are not only guaranteed an interview but also a two-week discretionary trial period.�
�Oh, that�s great,� Charlie said. �And what kind of work is it, exactly?�
�Well, there are a few different positions. Mainly Twilight Replenishment Agents.�
�You mean night-shift shelf-stackers?�
�In a nutshell, yes. But they�re also looking for people to work in their Seasonal Grotto, which I personally think would suit you down to the ground.�
�Their Seasonal Grotto?�
�Yes, basically they need people to dress up as elves and Santa Clauses, you know, for the kiddies. Doesn�t that sound wonderful?�
�Oh, yes� wonderful.�
�I just KNEW you�d be pleased, Mr. Fordham� and, if I can I be frank, I�m very glad that you�re so enthusiastic about this because if, for any reason, you decided NOT to take up this opportunity, your benefit would be suspended immediately, pending investigation.�
�Well, since you put it like that,� Charlie said. �Where do I sign?�

At 9 o�clock the following morning, Charlie found himself sitting around a large table with seven complete strangers. No one was really talking to, or looking at, each other so it was almost a relief when an over-enthusiastic, camp young man with a clipboard bounded in and introduced himself.
�Hi everybody! How we all doing? My name�s Jeff and I�ll be your trainer for the next couple of days. Now, you�ve all done REALLY well by passing your telephone interviews, so give yourselves a big pat on the back for THAT. Hope you�ve helped yourselves to tea and coffee because, if it�s cool with everybody, I want to get started straight away. Okay?�
No one said anything, so Jeff continued with his monologue.
�First of all, just so I don�t forget anyone�s name, can I ask you all to write them on the pieces of card I�m about to hand round. Then we�ll kick things off with a fun little ice-breaking exercise, okay?�
Once everyone had written out their names, Jeff put them into pairs for the first �exercise�, in which they were supposed to tell each other some interesting facts about previous jobs. Charlie was paired off with a teenage girl who had written �KOKO� on her piece of card.
�Koko. Is that really your name?� Charlie asked.
�Nah, but that�s what everyone calls me. Wanna start this stupid exercise, then?�
�I suppose. So, what jobs have you done before?�
�Used to work weekends in a chemists, but I only left school about a year ago. Been dossing round on the dole ever since. How about you?�
�God, I�ve done loads of different stuff, but I�ve pretty much been dossing round on the dole for the last few years too.�
Koko laughed.
�You�ll at least get some decent money,� she said. �They hardly give you fuck all if you�re under twenty-five.�
�Really?� Charlie replied. �I never knew that but it doesn�t surprise me, really. They�re a bunch of bastards.�
�You�re right there.�

When it was time for lunch, Charlie decided to nip into a nearby pub for a quick drink and was more than a little surprised to find Koko there, swigging from a bottle of lager and chatting amiably to the barman.
�Hello there,� Charlie said, �I see you had the same idea as me.�
�Sure did. What a prick that guy Jeff is. What you drinking?�
�No, I�ll get it,� Charlie said. �You ready for another?�
They got their drinks and sat at a table. The place was crowded with people from nearby offices who were talking loudly over their meals and soft drinks.
�That�ll be us soon,� Charlie said. �Fully paid-up members of the workforce.�
�Oh God,� Koko replied. �Can�t fuckin� WAIT! This morning�s felt like one of the longest of my LIFE.�
�Well, don�t forget, we�ve still got that Health and Safety lecture to look forward to this afternoon.�
�Please, don�t remind me.�
�Oh, come on. It�s bound to be a RIGHT old laugh! Here�s to Health and fucking Safety!�

After a couple of drinks, Charlie and Koko made their way back for the afternoon training session but were stopped in their tracks by Jeff, who had a very serious look on his face.
�Don�t bother going into the training room, guys,� he said. �Now, I�m sorry to have to tell you this but you were spotted at lunchtime DRINKING ALCOHOL and, as I explained earlier, THAT kind of thing is simply NOT tolerated in this organisation.�
�You�ve got to be kidding?� Charlie said. �We only had a drink or two. It�s hardly the crime of the century.�
�Mr. Fordham, this is the twenty FIRST century and I think you�ll find that the VAST majority of employers take drinking at work EXTREMELY seriously indeed. It�s classed as GROSS misconduct which, as I�m sure you�re aware, can and DOES lead to immediate dismissal.�
�So, what you�re saying is, you�re SACKING us?�
�Technically, you haven�t even started the job yet, Mr. Fordham. Your training period was due to last until tomorrow and then you would have entered into a two-week probationary stage. But now, that�s simply not going to happen. I�ve taken the liberty of informing your respective Employment Advisers, who require that you attend interviews with them as soon as you leave here.�
�Shit,� Koko said. �Who was it that saw us in the pub?�
�That�s really of no consequence. The bottom line here is that you�ve been dismissed. Now, I�m sorry, but I really MUST get back to my class.�
With that, Jeff disappeared into the training room leaving Charlie and Koko standing in the corridor, more than slightly bewildered.

�So, what are you going to do now?� Koko asked, when they were back out on the street.
�Well, I don�t know about you, but I�m going to go for another DRINK,� Charlie replied, pulling out his asthma inhaler and taking a quick blast.
�I can�t BELIEVE this is happening. My dad�s going to fuckin� KILL me��
�Look, don�t worry about it. There�ll be other jobs just as shit as THAT one. It�s no big deal. Nobody died.�
�God, it�s easy for YOU to say. You�re ANCIENT. Probably got a bit of cash stashed away too. I NEEDED this job. Now I�m just TOTALLY FUCKED!�
And, with that, Koko walked away and Charlie found himself standing alone on the icy pavement, wondering what to do with the rest of his day.
Don�t fancy going to see that stuck-up bitch at the Employment Centre, he thought. Probably best leave it till tomorrow.

He walked into his local pub just as they had finished clearing up after the lunchtime rush.
�How you doing?� the barman inquired.
�Don�t ask. Just been sacked, haven�t I?�
�Sacked? Since when did YOU work?�
�Only started today, didn�t I? Stupid cunt.�
�Who? Your boss?�
�No, ME. Give us a double vodka, will you?�
Sitting in his usual seat, Charlie stared out of the window at the crowds of Christmas shoppers, none of whom looked particularly happy or filled with festive cheer. Most of them simply looked exhausted, defeated. I fuckin� HATE Christmas, Charlie thought to himself, just as Cliff Richard�s �Mistletoe and Wine� started to play on the jukebox.
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