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Issue Three: Poker Face EP

by History Of Guns

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1.
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Strip Search 04:11
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Endfistula 05:30
9.

about

When i get on the train in the morning it's empty. This is a good time for thinking, reading, staring out the window etc... at each subsequent stop more and more people get on. Sometimes they know other people on the train and feel compelled to talk to them nonstop, about any kind of trivial aspect of their life and everyone in the carriage has to hear it. As Chuck Palahniuk once put it "someone's always spraying the air with their mood". Sometimes this makes it hard to read, and the walkman is the only way to shut out their noise. Sometimes you just have to listen.

Today at some station or other someone called Nicola Neads (i've guessed how to spell her surname, but it's the sound of her surname that will become important later on) and two female companions joined the train. (One of whom i think it's safe to assume was Nicola Neads sister.) When Nicola Neads got on the train she was complaining about how the person who'd parked the bike in the bike rack next to hers at the station had done so really inconsiderately and it really made her angry and she clawed at some imaginary bike grease on her fingers. One of her companions offered her another tissue and lamented how she used to carry wet wipes in her bag but doesn't anymore... she does apparently keep some in her desk at work though because "you know how it is when you eat something like an apple and your fingers are a bit sticky and you can't be bothered to go all the way to the bathroom".

In the newspaper i'm reading to try and blot out the intrusion of pointless noise there's one of these fashionable media Top 10 lists. It's the top ten worst places to live on the planet... if you're a child. Number one is, apparently, Darfur in Sudan. Each entry in the chart is accompanied by a small bite size reason explaining what happens to children in each place: rape, malnutrition, genital mutilation and being forced to fight brutal wars against their will all feature heavily.

Nicola was saying how it made her really angry that she originally had a bank account in her name, then she switched it to a joint account with her man, and they automatically put his name before hers on everything, when it was originally *her* account!

Apparently despite it's booming economy 1.5 million children will die in India of malnutrition this year making it number 5 on the list.

Another thing that makes Nicola Neads angry is her name. Apparently at school it was all, "Nicola Neads an ice cream" and "Nicola Neads a wee" etc. i felt for her, i really did.

Fortunately having been in the company of Nicola Neads for twenty five minutes without ever being properly introduced, i had to leave the train. i found i knew a surprising amount about her. i could maybe use her as a character in something. i tried to think of a story in which to place her but fortunately failed miserably. It would've probably been a huge seller and she'd have only ended up being "very angry" and suing me for every penny i haven't got.

And then i was on the tube, an advert on the opposite wall read, "You don't have to be homophobic to work here, but it helps." It was advertising EQUALITY... (placed by the charity Stonewall). The woman next to me was reading a book called '101 Actions Of A
Wise Woman', on page 79 it said in big letters, "Wise women avoid being terminators or destroyers of the warrior spirit in their man." By turning my head fully from left to right four different people's newspapers informed me that Syd Barrett (ex-Pink Floyd) had died. i liked him. i don't believe half the stories they say about him.

More people fill the carriage, obviously you can't look them in the eye so you look down. There's some really ugly toes on display. They disgust me; you see i'm just a shallow as the rest of them, but you know it really doesn't take much attention to sort them out. On page 84 it reads, "A wise woman builds relationships that are based on values, not valuables."

And look we're only at Kings Cross... more people squeeze on, the temperature soars. So many sad faces crushed together, starting to smell bad, surrounded by bad news at the front end of another working day. It's no wonder there's a suicidal vibe in the air.

credits

released July 24, 2006

Del Alien - Vocals
Max Rael - Guitars / Machines

Track 1 written by Alien/Rael. Tracks 2 - 9 written by Max Rael

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History Of Guns London, UK

Legends of the underground UK industrial scene.

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