Bucket of Stuff

When CatBucket was just a tiny feline foetus, I decided I didn’t want him to become a “bloggy” blog. I wanted him to grow up into a big strong internet tiger without resorting to ‘Throwback Thursdays’ or Top 10 Lists of Whatever Is Currently Trending. He wouldn’t need to suckle on the teet of hashtags and product reviews, or be raised on crosslinks to other, more engaging content in the desperate hope that some of it would rub off. I wanted him to be just a little bit different.

But like all parents, I have my moments of weakness. A little junk food is okay every now and then, I tell myself. And frankly I’ve run out of alternative topics to riff about. So without further ado, here’s a motley collection of things I’ve been enjoying recently.

Rag ‘N’ Bone Man

Rag ‘N’ Bone Man, real name Rory Graham, does not look like he belongs on a music stage. To be honest, his outward appearance is more along the lines of an inked up Amish gangbanger who distills methamphetamine in a horse-drawn caravan. But then he opens his mouth. Put on the best headphones you can find, turn up the volume and just listen.  That voice. My technical vocabulary isn’t sufficient to do it justice. Something about harmonies? Texture? I have no clue. The peak of my musical education was puffing out a half-hearted “Frere Jacques” on a plastic recorder in Year Four assembly. The best description I can offer is Passenger but with more testosterone and possibly diabetes. And I mean that in the best possible way – he’s awesome.

“My hobbies are knuckle tattoos and plowing fields.”

Chances are you won’t have heard of him unless you closely follow the UK hiphop and blues scene. It might not be that way for much longer though – when he’s done building his Amish meth empire he’ll be supporting Bastille on a number of their upcoming summer dates, hopefully earning him some much deserved exposure. There’s also whisperings that a full album is in the pipeline. He’s gonna be big, I’m sure. And that’s not even a crude fat joke. Check out his debut EP ‘Wolves‘ here (it’s free).

 

11.22.63 by Stephen King

From the tragically unknown to the stupidly popular, we have 11.22.63, a time travel fiction novel by Stephen King. In case you’ve never been inside a book shop, he’s that guy that wrote The Shining and The Shawshank Redemption. He also looks like one of the Who townsfolk from The Grinch. Unlike a lot of King fans I don’t follow him religiously – he’s more like an old friend I bump into every year or two. Sometimes we get on, and sometimes it just gets a bit weird and ends on a no logic blowout with aliens and/or child murder. I’m pleased to say we had a pretty good adventure this time.

Every Who down in Whoville liked Christmas a lot. Unfortunately Stephen is still applying for citizenship and is forced to spend Christmas with humans.

Without getting too specific, the novel follows a teacher from 2011 as he attempts to prevent the assassination of John F Kennedy (the date of which lends the novel it’s title). It’s stuffed with King’s usual attention to detail, with everything from the price of beer to the style of handshakes immersing you in the world of the 60s. It’s like time tourism if you’re one of those peasants who can’t afford a TARDIS. Stephen King’s not exactly in need of what little web traffic this post might generate, but you can have a look at 11.22.63 here.

 

Weavesilk

Weavesilk is one of those things that is easier to demonstrate than explain. Only hit the link if you’ve got at least fifteen minutes spare. Programmed by a single guy with a thing for procedural generation (and probably LSD), this nifty application lets you weave your very own psychotropic masterpiece in a kaleidoscope of vibrant colours. It’ll make you feel a lot more creative than watching cat videos for a quarter of an hour, at least. It looks incredible, it’s the definition of accessible and above all, it’s just plain fun. You can also take it with you on the go via iTunes or the Google Play store.

The most psychedelic snowflake you’ll ever see.

 

All Is Lost

If you enjoyed Battle: Los Angeles, then you will probably hate All Is Lost. You’re also quite unlikely to have read this far due to the lack of explosions so I reckon I’m safe. All is Lost is a curious bit of ocean survival cinema, with just two spoken lines and single actor on the cast list. Our unnamed protagonist wakes up one morning to find a gaping hole in his yacht, with the radio dead and land hundreds of miles away. It’s a simple, minimal setup, but never a boring one. Although not to everyone’s tastes, I absolutely loved it. If tense, existentialist survival movies fire you up like an Israeli rocket salvo during a ceasefire then All Is Lost might just be the best film you’ve never heard of.

The entire cast and 90% of the set is in this picture.

It probably helps that the central mysterious man of the sea is Robert Redford, who picked up enough critics awards for his performance that he could start giving them away in selected boxes of Coco Pops. This overtalented bastard could literally wipe his arse with a different Golden Globe every day of the week. But Robert Redford wouldn’t do that, because he is a classy man and can afford the softest silk toilet paper available in Hollywood. Like most indie movies, All Is Lost barely made back its production budget, so if you’d like to ensure Mr Redford’s awards stay hygienic then you can find it on Amazon and Netflix.

There we have it – four things that have been on my radar. None of them cat related. Stay tuned.