Viewing posts by James Murphy
It's November, a time of complicated anniversaries. Of Octobers that became Novembers and barrels of gunpowder left in the bowels of a building that fire would eradicate in a couple hundred years anyway, sadly emptied of the fat landowners and wealth horders of the day. We've had Samhain and All Hallow's Eve and the fields are asleep until the planting time.
Perfect for watching the rain hit your windowpanes and relaxing in the warm with some audio goodness.
I'm very pleased to be able to finally announce the return of Pex Lives.
Kevin and I talk here about The Seventh Seal, Jodie Whitaker, the Ambassadors of Death, personal hypocrisies and much more. It's good to be back. Kevin seems to have recorded on location from a cathedral of furious wolves, so that's something.
Also very happy to have a new City of the Dead, the podcast Lee and I do about every Amicus film. We're actually nearing the end of this journey so jump onboard while you still can. One of the things I love about CotD is that it isn't a show that demands a huge ...
You find me, EP readers, in the midst of my annual Elvis Kick, the time of the year where, werewolf like, the Presley geek within rises and takes the wheel for about six months. Hence the title of this post, a kinda play on Jumpsuit Elvis' I Just Can't Help Believin', the BJ Thomas cover I'm playing and replaying at an aggressively antisocial volume.
("We all immediately understood that, James! Don't talk down to us, the audience! And don't anticipate our reaction within the body of the text, who do you think you are? Jim Gaffigan?")
Alright, the business of the day. Lots of fun and unusual bullets in my arsenal this time out.
Kevin and I haven't yet had the chance to reconvene in my podcast marriage, Pex Lives, after how we spent our summer vacation, but, barring a terrible catastrophe, we're all go for Sunday, so keep your eyes peeled and your ears open for that one. We pride ourselves on being scheduling geniuses and have, let me be clear, never made any ridiculous mistakes around a) the clocks changing, or whether GMT is all year round, b) which weekend "Next weekend ...
I was just popping by to tell you lot about a brilliantly fun new entry in the Amicus podcast from myself and Lee Russell, which you'll find here http://pexlives.libsyn.com/city-of-the-dead-14-asylum and will offer you just the tonic. If you like old Doctor Who, this sort of stuff is right up your alley. And if you don't, you'll probably dig it too.
I was just going to do that and be on my way, but I noticed that there was no Friday post from that wine chugging layabout J. Graham, so I thought I'd be your subsitute leftist for the week and post this recent essay that had previously been exclusively available to those who support me on Patreon. Feel free to throw paper airplanes and leave tacks on my chair in the comments below.
All over the world, white supremacists are flexing their pale, flabby muscles in this new age of online organising. In America, an emboldened, far-right Republican party controls the government. The Southern Strategy has made the Republican Party as hard right, as racist, and as popular as it is now. The strategy was (and is) the winking and ever ...
"The system James and I have been using to post Pex Lives stuff to the site whereby James tells me it's up and I post about it has been falling through lately due to missed steps like James telling me or me doing anything about it." - Phil Sandifer, 27th April, 2017.
Being James Murphy is a remarkably frustrating endeavour and one I can't recommend. The only spot on the league table of frustrating tasks that beats being me is knowing me, I would guess. Yes, there's lots of upsides but there's also the beleaguered inability to ever capitalise on them. Let's say that for some reason a writer you greatly respect long ago chose to offer you an amplifier. That's great, you'll definitely do something about that, you (I) think to my(your)self. But then you don't, you useless bastard, you just get distracted and strum the same eight songs over and over on an acoustic guitar and go to work and sleep. Well, you'll never beat the world's finest procrastination artists, in their perfectly tidy houses, at their own game so you may as well make an effort ...