The cats at Situation Press have just published Robin Ryde’s debut novel Southern Cross. It’s a darn good read of course with a quite spiffy cover. You can find more detail on it here (please note that the cover looks a bit shiny in these pics, that’s because they’re of the printer’s dummy, commercial copies of the book are much more matty)
«Robin Ryde has written a great story of love, empathy and survival in an oppressive dystopia. Please read this book and help make this world a better place»
— Jón Gnarr, former Mayor of Reykjavik
Raindance opens on 21 September and runs till 2 October. You should totally go if you’re in the neighbourhood, if you know what’s good for you, if you think you’re hard enough.
Why not do something nice for your auld ma and pa and maybe sort them a pass for this year’s Raindance Film Festival?
Jodie Foster has joined the Red Crayon Faction at number 41
Top read at Belle’s Literary Salon (for cool people) this week is Adverts Without Capitalism — Romanian Advertising Graphics 1950–1989, published in February this year by Graphic Front, an extension of their terrific Graphics Without Computers series.
«Throughout this time there were graphic designers working away in the immense system of communication of the day, skilled hands making drawings, laying out pages and creating shapes, as well as people from other fields who also did the work of a graphic designer… Looking at many of the images reproduced here, we can only wonder how the “brief” must have sounded to the lady presenting the product. Things are pretty clear when it comes to beverages and textiles. But just how longingly can you look at a tin of paint? How gracefully can you hold a plate of buttons in your hand?»
And a rare bonus pic from 2011:
Go on, you might as well, you never know.
The British Independent Film Awards, Old Billingsgate, London, 6 December 2015 (photograph of Richard Ayoade by Getty Images for the Moët British Independent Film Awards, used with kind permission)
I was recently shanghaied into joining Twitter, approximately 8 or 9 years after everyone else. What is it good for? Well you can maybe say that again. Anyway please hit me up here if you are in the neighbourhood and I will do the same for you. You never know, we could be good for one another or something.
I made a new typeface because this is just what the world needs right now. It’s called Brick Shithaus. Modular, utilitarian and anti-imperialist, it’s designed to do away with a lot of unnecessary white space. If this typeface were to compete in the Olympics it would be in the shot put.
«A typeface is not a dinner party, or writing an essay, or painting a picture, or doing embroidery. It cannot be so refined, so leisurely and gentle, so temperate, kind, courteous, restrained and magnanimous. A typeface is an insurrection, an act of violence by which one class overthrows another»
— Mao Zedong
The British Independent Film Awards, Old Billingsgate, London, 7 December 2014
and woo woo, an even more nicely branded clip from the good folk at Getty:
Objects of great beauty which arrive in the mail continued. The Truth of Revolution, Brother. With Jello, Little Annie, Vi Subversa, Jón Gnarr, Einar Örn Benediktsson, Steve Albini, Jeffrey Lewis and others including the folk who brought you Crass, Chumbawamba, the Adverts, UK Subs, the Pop Group, The Mob, Minor Threat and the Minutemen as well as a couple of people you’ve never heard of before. I’m one of the people you’ve never heard of before. I am a little bit in love with everything about this book. For further details and for all the saints please click here
«Talking about philosophical ‘isms’, I’ve never bought into that kind of thing. That sort of thing you can do at Dial House, but you can’t really be Zen in the middle of Birmingham, can you?» — Steve Ignorant
«I didn’t follow what was going on. For example with ‘Grease’ the film, I didn’t understand it. It was a song and dance movie and it was ‘period’ and I didn’t understand it because I thought that people in different countries lived in a different period» — Jón Gnarr