Amsterdamage.

Wanna hear all about my holiday? I think you do. As anyone who's gone there will tell you, coming home from Amsterdam isn't a pleasant feeling. It's now Thursday, I got back on Monday and I'd still go back in an instant. Well, next year, eh? Okay, it's travelogue time. First, the airport. We had something like a five-hour wait to check in because we... wait a minute, I should first explain who "we" is.
This is Rob J, who you saw last a few updates ago. We were going to be going with his other half Kara, but it ended up with just the two of us. Anyway, a five hour wait at Birmingham airport means your fun is limited for a few hours (hence this sort of malarky), but we got there soon enough, fucking tired and grotty. See, fatigue isn't a luxury we could really afford, because that very night we had tickets for Grand Buffet and Sage Francis at the Melkweg, so we had to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed cuz we'd been looking forward to this one for months. No fucking worries, though- as soon as we got our smoke on and got to the club it was just uproar all the way. I've never been to such a superb, intimate venue- for hip-hop it was perfect, you could hear, see and feel everything. Grand Buffet were on first, and they were fucking awesome- like a two-man Beastie Boys, but with a sense of humour and a shitload more energy- these pictures give you some idea of the size of the venue- there's no zoom on them at all, and that was squeezed against the back wall. They're so damn blurry because the fuckers wouldn't ever, ever keep still- this was kinetic, high-energy rap, hilarious, well-observed lyrics and loads of audience participation and ass-shaking beats. The fact we'd been up for thirty-or-so hours meant shit at this point cuz we were buzzing like flies (cool note: Grand Buffet were hanging out after the show as well, Rob and I met them, got our shit signed and chatted for a while, which is a very cool way to handle yourself indeed- I want these guys to get huge, they fucking deserve it). Next up was Sage, who devastated the room (again, apologies for the shaky pics), with his Rasputin-style beard and gown, spitting fantastic tracks from A Healthy Distrust and making each member of the audience feel involved- no shit folks, this was a superb, underground and hardcore evening. Rob and I felt like hardcore soldiers, man, underground cross-planet travellers, soldiers in the truth army of beats, rhymes and life. Well, we were pretty fucked up by this point. A little word about where whe stayed. I've been to 'Dam each year since '01, and each time since '02 I've stayed here, the loveliest campsite in the whole world. No pressure, holidaymakers from all over the world, cheap, basic and clean cabins, really close to the tram terminal... perfection. What makes it for me, though, is the fact that it's right next to a half-pipe and a local graffiti spot- each year I've gone back the art has gotten better and better, and this year it was astounding- I mean, check this shit out. Intricate detail, wide, sprawling works, humour... Just superb, all of it. We had plans to see Nine Inch Nails later in the holiday, but we spent such a lot of time getting wrecked and boozing in as many places as possible that it never happened- I'll live. With_Teeth was pretty mediocre in retrospect, and the forty-minute train ride to the German border just didn't appeal.
The last few hours of the holiday were spent in the traditional all-out smoke-off, desperately nailing as much quality skunk as possible to get rid of it all before the plane- we succeeded, of course. So, here I am, back in blighty. I've got a few weeks of summer-school teaching lined up next month (thanks to a tip-off from the resouceful, helpful and generous Miss. Cope), but right now all I'm doing is taking stock and watching my tan fade. Same time next year, I think.
My thanks for reading this far, and here's a last holiday image for you:

Good times man, good fucking times.
Laters
Marko
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Hardcore Uproar

In a few hours I'm off on holiday, just thought I'd post some pics of last night, on the piss with some fellow teachers for the last time:

(not sure what I'm pointing at there^)

Me and the unstoppable John Sherringham

Ended up having a smoke with some total strangers. Love it.
I got a big, fat "A" grade for the coursework I was stressing over last month, and my tutor had some really nice things to say. I'm over the moon, in short, hangover or not.

An Ending.

Okay, so it's over then. I've been delaying writing here because I didn't want to give any glib, stupid responses to a really important two weeks that, by and large, I pretty much ballsed up. After getting back to Gav's afer Easter I was just pushing toward the finishing line- I got a really positive assessment from my visting tutor, I had a last rehearsal or two with the Heroin Lies crew and had a week to go when it got too much to deal with. Not just the course, but everything I've been pissed off with since it started- two buses and a lift every morning, feeling isolated, being tired, am I sounding like a whining little bitch? Not sure I care. It got too much. I missed most of the last week, and that's tantamount to flipping a finger at the department that I've been in for the last four months. I don't think I've done anything that'll stop me from passing, but I've certainly burned a bridge or two with my tutors at my placement school, which I am quite gutted about. It's nothing I'm going to go into here, but I enjoyed my time at that school and there are at least two reasons why the Drama department's as good as it is. Seriously, that school is pretty rough, but pupils who cause mad havoc in other lessons chill the fuck out in Drama, and have done for me as well as the established staff there. It's an ace example of a school that takes the subject seriously.
I've seen Batman Begins and Sin City by now, as well as
fucking Star Wars Episode III (three times, two in the cinema and once with gav on dodgyvision), and I feel really spoiled- I mean come on, look at the year we've had as media consumers- Nathan Barley (fuck you, Cook'd and Bomb'd, I loved it), an amazing new Doctor Who (both kisses at the end floored me), new Batman, Sin City, Star Wars, Hitchhikers... I don't know, hollow treats with soft centres maybe, but it's been a good year thus far.
I'm off now. I'll post before my holiday, but if anyone wants to post a casting idea for the role of The Joker in Batman Begins II I'd love to hear it. What'll they call it? Batman Carries On?

Unwinding.

So, that was half-term then. It feels so strange to think that I've got just two weeks to go of this course, two weeks of teaching before I leave Tonypandy, leave Gav's house and move on to the next step, whatever that may be. Another two jobs in the area have come up and been applied for, but to be honest I'm not half as worried as I have been about not walking straight into a teaching post- as the mighty Harri says, grabbing the first job in panic will just lead to despair in the long run, and I'd much rather get something else in the meantime (or even temp, for fuck's sake), if it means I can take my time and find a place that's right.
"But Mark", I hear no-one ask, "how did you spend your half-term"? Well, the highlight was spending three days with Rob and Kara at their new house in Llanfuck-knows outside Aberystwyth. They told me the location was remote, and Christ they weren't joking. Hayley and I spent ages looking for the place, although it was worth it- the surroundings are remote, yeah, but when this and this is the view from your bedroom window, stress becomes a memory. It was Rob's birthday, so there was a lot of drinking, horseplay and general fun, along with another old and really good friend of ours, Stotty (whose band Captain are well worth your listening time). Altogether a lovely week. I'm unwound and chilled, and I get to finally see the Sin City movie tomorrow, after refusing offers of bootlegs to wait for the whole cinematic experience. A fanboy's life is fraught with self-sacrifice and denial, but the payoff is always sweet indeed.

At ease.
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