The best room

This is lovely.


The best room or interpretation of a poem

And now tell it to me
in other words,
says the stuffed owl
to the fly
which, with a buzz,
is trying with its head
to break through the window-pane.

—Miroslav Holub

Retro-Modernism

Who's sick of Postmodernism? Who's sick of the all-encompassing, oh-so-hip, fool full of sound and fury, signifying nothing? We all are. Surely, we all are.

And even if you think you're not, surely you are sick of hearing the phrase,

"That's SO Post-Modern!"

or worse,

"That's SO PoMo!"

It's over, dead. I'm declaring it. And in its place, may I introduce the advent of:

*Retro-Modernism*

These times are very like the Modernist times, I think. Science is fast advancing, but it's ruthless and its forecasts are more scary than inspiring. The security of religion is something few of us take solace in anymore. We eye Postmodernism's carefree hey-day with an eye of cynicism similar to how Modernists eyed the Romantics.

And so, here in the brilliantly cold intellectual wasteland, we stand nostalgic for when things had meaning. We stand against tradition but sad without it. We are

Retro Modernists!

How exciting. Let's make up some stickers.










*Turns out there's a style of interior design and furniture making called this too. This is irrelevant to our cause. Okay? Okay.

And we're a Band! on the telly box.

So, a little while ago The Cedar were on TV. It was for this hot-new-bands-of-UK program on a Sky network channel that you only get if you're subscribe to the very most inclusive of cable packages. Nevertheless, it was neat. They had lots of fog machines and a see-through stage. They had a director who actually said, "Cut!" And they had an interview. With us.

And

get this

a few days before-hand they asked us to provide interview questions for it. So, in a sense, we were interviewing ourselves, through the puppet of a pretty-girl 'reporter.'

I guess we'll know we're famous when someone else actually bothers to be interested enough to have a question or two of their own for us. In the meantime, don't inhale the fog.