Well, it’s goodbye from me …

As Spandau Ballet once sang, “Why do I find it hard to write the next line?”

My last post. 

The end of Reinspired. Three years of highs, lows, experimental indie, exploitation flicks, bad art, good art, cat memes and catharsis. My first post detailed my “reinspiration” as I rediscovered my love of music through the albums of Foetus. I wrote to JG Thirlwell to tell him about it. He wrote back. I didn’t just find my muse that day – I found a friend: a genuinely lovely person who, typically, was quick to agree to write an epilogue for us. The funny thing is that I rarely listen to Foetus these days – Manorexia or his Venture Bros stuff, sure – but I don’t need that “lift” from it lately. That’s good, though, and it’s not going anywhere – that’s the joy of albums: you can hoard them away for a while and then dig them out to fall in love with all over again.

I’ve got friends now who I started talking to because they were Foetus fans, but now they’re just Damin or Julz or Kit. I started this blog in response to Everett True’s blog, ended up writing for Collapse Board, and though time and inclination take me elsewhere, I’m still giggling on Facebook at some crazy thing his kid just said, or talking fashion with one of the other writers.

Just looking back through my old posts:

The Vampire Diaries is still the only show I make time for every week. It’s still puerile, gaudy fun. Harold & Kumar Go To White Castle is still very probably the funniest film I have ever seen. It will never be that funny again because I know its jokes now line-for-line, but even the thought of just how hard I laughed the first time I saw it makes my chest tighten.

I’m very glad I made that “world tour: women in rock” post because it introduced me to Aylin Aslim – a Turkish singer I’d never have encountered if I hadn’t specifically been looking for non-British/American female rock artists. I’ve still never got around to picking up her other albums, but I listened to Gülyabani a lot. Even though I haven’t seen many future role-models for the female rock stars of tomorrow (no, put your hand down, Taylor Swift), at least I have hope that little Princess Pickle will have someone like this to idolize when she’s older.

I’m glad I dug out that Martin Atkins interview I did in 1996. Not only did it reassure me on what I had hitherto regarded as one of the most embarrassing moments of my life, but Martin and I got chatting as a result of the upload, and I ended up contributing to his forthcoming book. Sadly, Band: Smart’s layout artist Eric McNary died late last year, but a new artist has been found, so at least his latest work will see the light of day.

Talking of art, I’ve seen some pretty amazing examples over the past three years. The visual arts are Britain’s weakness, at least when it comes to mainstream exposure, so you should forgive any Brit who exclaims that “most art is complete and utter b*llocks”, because my few excursions to London’s galleries have left me depressed. From my initial rant onwards, though, I’ve been exposed to an incredible amount of really inventive work. Is art just better in the USA? Are invention and imagination more richly rewarded? Are things like this being made here, but we just never see them? JG Thirlwell’s epilogue demonstrates a few examples, but Tumblr provides many more.

It’s hard for me to point to any posts as being better or worse than others. I’m acutely embarrassed by some of what I’ve written, particularly for Collapse Board, but I’m sure everyone feels that way about their own work. Still, even if I have mostly specialized in silly listicles, I hope at least to have entertained. I hope maybe to have introduced you to things you’d enjoy, to have provoked thought or discussion (even if I’m occasionally being mischievous), I hope to have made you laugh, and to have wasted your time enjoyably.

Well, thank you for your time and attention. I’ll still be on Tumblr and Twitter, if you want to come with me on the next stage of my journey.

Thank you for the inspiration!

– Princess Stomper

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