Tuesday, 8 September 2015
Book Review- Bobby's Boy. by Mark Wilson
Having read a number of books by Mark Wilson (the Deadinburgh Trilogy, and Head Boy spring immediately to mind, and knowing that Bobby’s Boy was part of the Lanarkshire strays collection I was expecting Bobby’s boy to carry on where Head Boy left off. (A Scottish gangster tale telling the rise of a young upcoming pyscho, taking on the established old school gangster family).
I was wrong.
Mark Wilson is nothing if not undefinable. He changes genre like I change my undies and he appears to do it with consummate ease.
Nothing Gangster about this book..and no ringed / zombies..this is a coming of age tale of love and loss, drink and drugs and rock n roll.
As usual I’ll try to summarise without the review turning into a plot spoiler.
The story revolves around a young boy’s (Tom Kinsella) sometimes tragic upbringing. Having to be moved into his Uncles care following the deaths of his father and later of his mother and stepfather.
Under the care of his, delightfully charismatic, Uncle Alec, Tom discovers his penchant for reading writing and Music and of how he has inherited these traits from his father (Bobby).
After building a reputation as a creative and honest music reviewer he is offered a long term job touring America and Europe with Rage Against the Machine and their support act Anal Seepage. Its Tom’s dream job. Unfortunately the job offer coincides with the flowering of his first true romance with his soulmate, Cathy.
After much soul searching and with Cathy’s full blessing he takes on the job and is taken from his humble background in Bellshill, Scotland to the big wide world. He becomes close friends with the members of Anal Seepage, in particularly with the understated, likeable Donny. At first Tom is understandably naïve and overawed but his penchant for the drink soon helps him bed in to the Rock n roll lifestyle and all the other temptations that a rock n roll tour would bring.
As with most people, the drink and drugs take their toll and Tom changes drastically, physically and mentally and this in turn has a destructive effect on his relationship with Cathy, who has moved on with her life adding new skills and new friends to her life (something Tom has great difficulty accepting in his then state).
Rather than deal with the situation in the way one would hope, Tom instead immerses himself even more into the rock n roll lifestyle and exacerbates the problems greatly. The situation with Cathy becomes drastic and she gives him an ultimatum to clean up his act of ship out for good. The good times with the band become dangerously violent and untenable and its hard to figure out how he will turn things round until he meets an unexpected old friend on the streets of Paris, whose wise words and compassion help Tom finally figure out the demons that are causing his destructive behaviour.
There are parts of this story that are explainable right to the end, where we have a customary Mark Wilson-esque twist.
It turns out that this was the authors first ever novel and given the other titles I have read by Mark Wilson I could imagine that if he wrote this tale now, it would take on a some slight changes of direction and the end would be slightly different ( I was actually slightly disappointed with the ending paragraph where he meets a stranger on a bus) and this as well as a couple of slightly unconvincing coincidences (Toms sister meeting and marrying the son of a New York publisher his father had met and considered working for in his youth decades earlier), but that and any other coincidence is dealt with when we get to the end and discover the twist, but they did irk me a little as I went through.
Having been through quite a few of the problems Tom went through in this story (losing a father at an early age, suffering with consequential insecurities as a result, resorting to drink and drugs through my late teens and half of my twenties) I found the book incredibly moving and at times painful. It got to the point where I bought into the story so much, I wondered whether it really was autobiographical. (A point a raised with the Author after I finished…but that conversation remains under wraps). That’s what Mark Wilson does. He creates worlds where you really buy into the characters and the worlds they live in. I would highly recommend this book to all. For a first novel it is outstanding. I have no doubt that .Mark Wilson is one of the most vital writers in the UK at present, I can't wait for his next project.
Saturday, 11 July 2015
The Switched by Ryan Bracha Book Review)
Violence, more violence, sex, sex with yourself, face
masks made out of real faces, , MENstruation (get it?) , shit,…… tons more
shit, serial killers, celebrities, drugs, an ENOURMOUS COCK, the owner of said
cock riding it, Love, Hate, betrayal, candles being stuck up arses, , octogenarian
sex and death by dildo, …..this is just a tiny glimpse of what this story
holds.
The Switched is Ryan Bracha’s latest novel and in case
you didn’t know it he is one of the most vibrant writers the UK has seen in
years. He is funny as fuck and no doubt, deeply disturbed. He pulls no punches
in his writing and this latest tale is his best yet.
The switched explodes (pun intended) into life right from
the start and the relentless pace is continued throughout as we learn of how
the lives of set of five main characters, Charles, Jake, Helen Francesca and
Leonard are changed beyond belief when each of them (as the story unfolds)
wakes up to discover they have swapped bodies with a complete stranger. Yes,
you may have seen multiple shitty Disney type films with the same body swapping
premise, but believe me the similarity stops there.
Bracha goes for the jugular from the outset. As with his
other works, he doesn’t waste words for the sake of his art. Every page and
chapter feels vital, exciting and darkly, darkly funny. You can just tell that
he had a ball writing this…any shackles that may have been there before (and
there weren’t many) have been shattered and he has unleashed a literary assault
on us that left me begging for more. I am not going to divulge any more of the
plot, I am just going to recommend that you read this if you like your humour
to be dark and your violence and conflict to be relentless and excruciatingly
stark.
I have no doubt that many people will find the book too
shocking and possibly gratuitous, I also have no doubt Bracha will not give a
fuck about those people and will be pissing his pants laughing at any such
criticisms.
Honestly, I cannot recommend this book highly enough. My
favourite read since Trainspotting, back in the 90’s. Not for the feint hearted
or easily offended. Brilliant.
Monday, 15 June 2015
Micheal Potter - Mister Popular, Facebook fooligan and Lois jeans
First of all, some sort of apology explanation should be
forthcoming re: Louis Jeans in the
last ins/outs. A pair of Brutus Gold
to the first person to have spotted this not so deliberate mistake. (Brutus Gold was a make of jeans popular
amongst certain folk.)
A true tale: Willie Whitelaw, the Home Secretary and dear
Margaret’s henchman circa 1979, introduced his short, sharp and ultimately failed
shock. Basically, it was a strict bang up strategy for the nation’s disaffected
youth. Anyway, an END reader incarcerated at the time in one of these sterile
outposts-somewhere in Yorkshire- was friendly with a Leeds fan whose poetic
words went thus: "First thing I’m doin’ when I get out, scouse, is buyin’
a pair of Brutus Gold ". The fast- paced jeans fashion roller-coaster of
the late 70s going into the 80s took no prisoners! Lois (or was it Louis?) Jeans
were designed methinks for the slender of frame Mediterranean folk. They were
always splitting all the time on the more robust scouse frames. (oh, and if any
80s casual is watching down that there London way, the same goes for you but 18
months earlier...obviously). Pass me the claret, I can feel a poem coming...
Mister Popular.
Drivin’, drivin’ very fast past the school smoking grass,
Tunes full on:
Leviticus, Deuteronomy,
Jokerman’s an apt tune for me,
Me bird’s on the corner standin’ proud and tall like a
beacon to tango
Hope she doesn't fall off the Jimmy Choo’s
Or is Scooby Doos something to do with igloos,
Someone give me a clue?
Fook, I haven't got a jar but I’ve got a belter car. Specialise
in bullying pensioners on blind bends, chattin’ imaginary friends, texting
record producers, reality show recruiters, Big Brother’s just a dream for now. I’m
movin’ in style,
Smash...Hello? Hello? You’re through to Jeremy Kyle!
Facebook
Fooligan...
Could be New Cross South London, Hunts Cross or even Holy
Cross Liverpool.
It doesn't matter, the song remains the same. Our cyber
hero yawns and stretches the seams on his Stone Island onesie working to
maximum capacity. One of his many online mates "Inky Arms", from
Slovakia wants to know why and when the skinheads put the airwear away and put Adidas
on? He’s in a pickle, maybe his old mum will know. She’s got all the newspaper
clippings this ex skinhead girl, God bless her.
‘Ah mum, he says ‘don't wear my fave Taylor Made. That's from the Open Augusta
Georgia’. ‘Nah it’s not you nitwit’, she responds. You’re getting confused
again. Your uncle George got it last August bank holiday from Southend, you
muppet.
Such is life for our facebook
fooligan. On line japes with fellow dreamers with a Jimmy Cagney ‘Top of the
world Ma!’ very much in the foreground. ‘Here son, put this nice picture up. It
shows your tattoos. The other one’s a bit blurry. Looks like a Top Gun reunion
what with all those flying jackets’. ‘Blimey! Mum that was er 1970. Er, haven't
you anymore?’ ‘Oh you mean the casual box set collection? Why didn't you say? I
loved you in that diamond Pringle’, she gushes with pride. These are bound to
get at least 20 ‘likes’ and even more ‘shares’ .Mum’s knowledge of internet
speak was invaluable. She had more followers on facebook than me, a self
proclaimed top boy. She loved putting up pics of the girls havin’ it large, bottles
of Prosecco behind their On Tour witty banner.
And finally
Mum got in a bit of "Facey " bother recently.
Two DEFRIENDS! She was more angry than upset; an innocent chat over the
incidental music featured in HOMES UNDER THE HAMMER turned down (out?) right
nasty. Mum reckoned two lardy estate agents perusing a nice piece of decking
with Badly Drawn Boy as a backing track just didn't work. Why not Blur’s one
about a big house in the country or any Chris De Burg number? One disgruntled
tweet led to another; even Techno fans got involved claiming under
representation on HOMES UNDER THE HAMMER. Before you knew it, iron girder!
Internet went into meltdown. Thank gawd it’s it sorted now. A couple of
grammatically incorrect posts, pics of grand kids. Prosecco followed by 29
xxxxxxxx happy daze!
Labels:
End Fanzine,
Micheal Potter,
Mick potter,
the End,
the end fanzine
Thursday, 14 May 2015
Ins & Outs May 15
INS:
Ed Moribund
Having murderous
intent.
improper use of Tofu
Having a permanent look
of bewilderment
Pampering your penis on
a Thursday evening
Becoming aroused at the
thought of a kebab
Claiming to know Nucky
Thompson.
Going to Runcorn people watching just to make yourself feel
normal.
Remembering Louis
jeans.
Favouring mung beans.
Inappropriate grinning.
Truly empathising with
a psychopath.
Saying " yeah am
partial to the odd nosh".
Blaming Islam for a a
poor Derby performance.
Not knowing how to take
it.
Mistaking baldy people
for each other.
Telling someone over
and over, “you look like a bouncer” (or Bizzie)
Shaping your pubes into
a fringe to create your own Ringo Starr
Deaf school knickers
Slicing imperial soap
Smacking yer dad on the
back of his head
Twats
The bombed out church
Tinned black pudding
Not giving a shit about
facebook
Mad bastards who stop at nothing
Remembering haircuts in
“Daves” (opposite the Royal, where kevin keegan went)
WFL
Bette Bright’s Big
Bossom
Scotland
Sitting on a plank across
the barbers chair
Remembering “Vic”
Placing an macadamia
nut in your bosses ear
Jellied Heels
Sugermen
Kirklands
Pork belly ice cream
Having a leather
scrotum transplant
Having a B.A in B.S.
Stifling a loaf
Firm, muscular snails
Frying a hard-boiled
egg
Whimsical Pro’s
Ball crushing, green
Jumbo cords
Garrulous Gorilla’s
Resembling a walnut
Courtesy flushing
Getting road rage on
the bog
Granddad farts
OUTS:
The next 5 years
Claiming to know…(ahhh,
who gives a fuck)
Blogs (like this)
Confusing personal
taste with fact
Farrage’s scrotum face
Tinned pizza
Discussing white goods
The Self Righteous
Concealing a poached egg
Telling everyone what
exercise you have done that day
Telling everyone what you
have eaten that day
Telling everyone what
you earn
Telling everyone what
gangsters you know
Telling everyone , “what
you really mean”
Telling everyone about
the big line you have just had
Disagreeing with trout
Smug pit bulls
Trying to be serious
Jangling about your
mate on social network sites
Fat baldy scousers
Greatie
Kissing kebabs
Interrupted wanks
apathy
trendy bizzies
Bizzies with handlebar
moustaches
Your Tory mate
Gordon taylors monumental stupidity.
Foisting
The continuing plan to
make very city look the same
Diego Costas demonic
eyebrows.
Van Galls unearthly
forehead.
Saying "ups a
daisy".
Amish beards.
Coconut conundrums
Conspirational coughs
Considering counting
Counting on a
considered reaction
cunts
Saying "i used to
be a Grock".
Inexplicably starting
to resemble Zak Dingle. (I’d consider this an IN meself)
Opening yer beer with a
lighter (when a bottle opener is right in front of you)
Steve Allens Alien Anus
Telling people about
their own country’s history
Discussing garden size,
engine size and mortgages on a night out
Complicit pomegranates
Leaving a skiddy in yer
mates bog
Tight fitting anything
Snarling at barmaids
Sending a bottle of
champagne over
Saturday, 11 April 2015
Potter';s Poems. Facebook Hooligan and more
This
one’s called Austerity a sterling word..
Austerity?
A puzzling thing
I
often think as I run down the wing.
My
agent he’ll sort it I’m only a boy
Cheer
up dear fans for soul see destroy.
Bruised
ego or toe nail can’t decide which hurts more.
Mr
fix it were are you who’s that's by the door?
Someone
called picket with placards and tears,
NHS
workers, no rise in three years.
The
beautiful games what i love and adore
Obscene
wages, oh don't be a bore,
I
know fans inside out know what makes them tick,
Pass
me that bag think am gonna be sick.
Number
2 untitled.
I
wondered lonely as a cloud
That
floats o’er dales and hill and all at once I saw a crowd
....must
be those aldi mushrooms !
number
3 Facebook hooligan.
I
could be a cockney geordie or scouse
I
don’t really leave the house
Peep
through the curtains, likes coq au vin.
I
am the facebook hooligan.
Used
to stand at the back, what time is lunch
Never
actually threw a punch.
Wave
my arms, catch me if u can
I
am the facebook hooligan.
Squeeze
me Taylor made on heads getting’ fatter,
Like
an obese pug but it doesn’t matter.
Here’s
the meals-on-wheels, ending in van,
I
am the facebook hooligan.
Talk
of old school, Custer’s last stand
Enemy
numbers getting on for a grand.
Against
50 top dressers is Gok Wan top man?
E-mail
please, facebook hooligan.
Selfies?
Breathe in chaps! More pictures of cans cooling in fridges all over the land.
Let
battle commence mouse keyboard in hand.
An
epic tussle already began,
Step
forward Walter Mitty, facebook hooligan.
My
Zorro mask is my little P.C
Used
to dress up in blag S.Tachini
Tog
the kids up in replica shirts
Meet
like-minded fatties, Florida like me all top blerts.
Sorry
top boys we call ourselves Mummy where’s my fake tan
Another
cyber space kick-off, facebook hooligan.
Friday, 13 March 2015
Potter's Poems.
A SPECIAL ONE
Ohh Mrs!! Titter ye not! How very very dare PSG!
Jose,Jose, in your 4 grand jacket
Prowlin’ the line ,must be on a packet
A gesture a sneer well fancy that
on order from Harrods here’s your jesters hat
Croydon’s top casuals havin’ it large
a lone metro traveller easy to barge.
See they love you they love you wohh-wwwohh
The Hugo Boss fatties, next stop Savlle row ?
To your credit, you slagged them, which I really admire
nearly as much… as I like your attire.
I’m growin’ quite fond of your Frankie Howard pout
next time when you,re miked up just take a time out.
Cos the clichéd pundits Messer’s Lineker & co
drone on like a space cake minus weed to much dough.
You don’t fool me, you love playin' the fool
just like all the great showmen you’ve only one rule.
Keep the punters happy, yes you’ll get my vote
and when xmas is comin’ please send me that coat.
-----------------------------------------
ITS GEAR!
The Horribly long-oval faced twat, JC (jowl'd cunt) Himself
Not really sure wot it is I hate most
Talk about pistons and the strength of a horse
A nuclear strike I’d happily endorse
Middle age toffs, Henry n’ Henrietta,
Baying like sheep things can only get better
says the one who resembles a sad seventies clone
or a geography teacher still living at home
Then comes Thomally Sebastian and tomboy little sis
named after her brother, oh heavenly bliss!
Yes she’s Ttom with two tt’s, our fave nanny did choose
to close to our horses she plied them with booze.
Paps said “bestiality to me, that's just fine
It’s a oneness with livestock, simply devine”!
By now dear readers it’s so plain to see
I’m more for Lambrini than Lambourgini
Stout yeomen, three stooges , I need to redress
It’s the top gear audience I fuckin detest
Labels:
Mick potter,
the End,
the end fanzine,
The End Poetry Corner
Tuesday, 3 March 2015
Ben Turner is a Dead Man- Ryan Bracha (book Review)
Its well documented that I am a big supporter of the musings of the talented indie writer Ryan Bracha. I've read and reviewed pretty much all of his books and remain convinced this is a writer with a massive future.
Ben Turner is a Dead Man is part 2 of a trilogy of books he is writing that followed on from the equally excellent Paul Carter is a Dead Man.
The Books are set in a not too distant or unbelievable future where New Britain has closed ranks against the world due to Britain's delusional Political Leader's ongoing paranoia about the threat of terrorism and immigration. It's essentially a police state where law and order is governed by groups of violent right wing law enforcement networks who after detaining suspects allow the the great British public to decide their fate via a social network style voting system.
In the First book a rebellion by an unlikely group of criminals (including the Hero of Book 2 Ben Turner) escalates into a violent and bloody attack on the heart of the law enforcement network before escaping to the nirvana that Scotland has become. However the activities of Mr Carter and his cohorts have planted a seed that has started to grow in Britain which results in further bloody activities and protests.
In The second book Paul Carter's right hand man (Ben Turner) is sent back into England with a gang of mad Scottish cronies to sort out a rogue group of (unlikely) activists, who are travelling the country systematically killing Law enforcement officers in wonderfully violent and gory manners (led by the enigmatic and sadistic Natalie). In the meantime the ex right hand man of the countries leader (Harry Garner) has headed in the opposite direction to approach Paul Carter to address the rogue killers. Much violence ensues along with all manner of brilliant twists and turns until all is revealed in a live televised broadcast by Ben.
As usual with Ryan Bracha's work, the pace is relentless, the humour dark and the violence is VIOLENT. This man pulls no punches! It was one of those books where you almost try to slow down to make the reading experience last that bit longer..oh and at the time of writing this the book is available for the ridiculous price of 99p!? ...what the fuck are you waiting for..go buy this book!
Buy it here
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Ben-Turner-Dead-Trilogy-Book-ebook/dp/B00PNZXK3G/ref=la_B0095JOQWA_1_3?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1425319511&sr=1-3
Ben Turner is a Dead Man is part 2 of a trilogy of books he is writing that followed on from the equally excellent Paul Carter is a Dead Man.
The Books are set in a not too distant or unbelievable future where New Britain has closed ranks against the world due to Britain's delusional Political Leader's ongoing paranoia about the threat of terrorism and immigration. It's essentially a police state where law and order is governed by groups of violent right wing law enforcement networks who after detaining suspects allow the the great British public to decide their fate via a social network style voting system.
In the First book a rebellion by an unlikely group of criminals (including the Hero of Book 2 Ben Turner) escalates into a violent and bloody attack on the heart of the law enforcement network before escaping to the nirvana that Scotland has become. However the activities of Mr Carter and his cohorts have planted a seed that has started to grow in Britain which results in further bloody activities and protests.
In The second book Paul Carter's right hand man (Ben Turner) is sent back into England with a gang of mad Scottish cronies to sort out a rogue group of (unlikely) activists, who are travelling the country systematically killing Law enforcement officers in wonderfully violent and gory manners (led by the enigmatic and sadistic Natalie). In the meantime the ex right hand man of the countries leader (Harry Garner) has headed in the opposite direction to approach Paul Carter to address the rogue killers. Much violence ensues along with all manner of brilliant twists and turns until all is revealed in a live televised broadcast by Ben.
As usual with Ryan Bracha's work, the pace is relentless, the humour dark and the violence is VIOLENT. This man pulls no punches! It was one of those books where you almost try to slow down to make the reading experience last that bit longer..oh and at the time of writing this the book is available for the ridiculous price of 99p!? ...what the fuck are you waiting for..go buy this book!
Buy it here
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Ben-Turner-Dead-Trilogy-Book-ebook/dp/B00PNZXK3G/ref=la_B0095JOQWA_1_3?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1425319511&sr=1-3
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