Monday, 19 January 2015

Never shave with Occam's razor + 6 hours of Msr. Smagghe & Co. For our 200th upload!

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I was on a train yesterday morning. I am not a man who delights in train travel, especially early in the mornings. I find it as appealing a prospect of eating breeze blocks in a burning toilet. Still, I had to do it. It’s an intermittent necessity in my ongoing battle to dodge doing anything that could be construed as 'a real job'.

On this train there was a family with two young children. I am not a fan of small children, when they are noisy small children. I can tolerate it up to a point, and that point is constant yelping and bellowing. One of the children was doing that elongated crying thing, which is something I am sure you’re familiar with. It involves a full, unbroken eight second cry, getting louder and more screamy. This becomes another scream, then another one. Just when you think that’s over, it becomes another fucking verse of screaming. Then back to the crying.

If I did that, I’d be chucked off the train. Okay, I have done that, but only at about midnight, on my own.

Anyway, I just sat there muttering “Jesus fucking Christ, make it stop” under my breath, until finally the doors spat open and I got off.

While I walked to the meeting I was already late for, I began to rant internally. “Jesus. It’s like kids turn crying into an Olympic fucking sport or something.”

Brings me to my idea. Olympic screaming and crying. Instead of any sport whatsoever, every single athlete has to compete in one huge, two week crying session. 100m crying. Hurdle crying. Screaming into buckets. Bellowing in absolute despair. And all the cries and moans and whimpers are recorded, eventually being played back and looped together, so that after some time, the stadium is filled with the ear blasting sound of thousands of people crying.

And here’s the best bit. The audience can’t cheer. They must cry back, and scream into megaphones that they are all given. Then their voices are recorded and played at 1000 decibels. On gigantic speakers. Nobody is allowed to leave, and at no point is the crying switched off.

Imagine it. You could also have sad things there to induce crying. A dog with a bandaged eye. A story told by a little boy about his cat going missing.

Seb Coe, you really missed a trick with this one innit.

You know, ramp up the tears. Now fuck off.

Ivan Smagghe, Zaltan & Sacha Mambo @ Le Sucre (16/01/2015)

In keeping with our last update and it's MAMMOTH contents (the 6 hour Mathew Dear and Carl Craig mix) we return with something of an equally elongated running time for our 200th 'Mixcloud' upload, as TOLAS fav, Ivan Smagghe took to the decks at Le Sucre in Lyon last week alongside the residents Zlatan & Sacha Mambo for a 6 hour pumpathon.

Till next time.
Big love. Mark. X

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