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where have all the blog posts gone?

if you're reading this on blogger, as opposed to on facebook (if you read these posts solely on facebook, this doesn't concern you and you can go about your life without reading further), you may have noticed that some of the historical posts- the ones on the first page, at least, have gotten a bit shorter. they're all still there, of course, but i have started adding page breaks on some of the longer posts, so they aren't quite so visually intimidating and so visitors to the site can browse quickly rather than becoming entangled in my...  loquaciousness.

i'm not going to go back and do this for the entire five and a half year history of the blog, i'm not that obsessive (not at the moment), but i figured i'd at least tidy up the front page to get things started. to view any post in its entirety, just click on the words "read more" at the end of the section on the front page. doing so will whisk you away to a space where you can enjoy the full post, with pictures, videos, links and whatever exciting goodies i can throw in there.

on another note, a good friend tells me that the band seefeel have reformed, which is nice, because they were quite a lovely band back in the day, but i'm hoping that this doesn't result in them hunting me across the earth, demanding their name back. the fact is, while they were languishing in self-imposed retirement, i've been using the name "more like space" for radio shows in two different cities, this blog, my space, facebook and a basically every public face i have (except my dj name, which is of even older vintage). in fact, if you google the phrase "more like space", this blog turns up second only to the wikipedia entry on the song. so there. nyah.

just kidding. i'm curious to see what they do after a long hiatus and i promise not to steal any more of their track titles for my personal gain. i've made my more like space bed and i'm comfortable here.

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wrong turn

as some of you are aware, i have a long-term project building a family tree. this has led me to some really interesting discoveries, like the fact that i am partly descended from crazy cat people, including the patron saint of crazy cat ladies, that a progenitor of mine once defeated a french naval assault with an army of scarecrows, that my well-established scottish roots are just as much norwegian as scottish, and that a relative of mine from the early middle ages let one rip with such ferocity that that's basically all he's remembered for. but this week, while i was in the midst of adding some newly obtained information, i found that some of my previous research had gone in an unexpected direction: the wrong one.

where possible, i try to track down stories of my better-known relatives and in doing so this week, i realised that i couldn't connect one of my greatĖ£ grandfathers to his son through any outside sources. what's worse that i found numerous sources that con…

dj kali & mr. dna @ casa del popolo post-punk night

last night was a blast! a big thank you to dj tyg for letting us guest star on her monthly night, because we had a great time. my set was a little more reminiscent of the sets that i used to do at katacombes [i.e., less prone to strange meanderings than what you normally hear at the caustic lounge]. i actually invited someone to the night with the promise "don't worry, it'll be normal". which also gives you an idea of what to expect at the caustic lounge. behold my marketing genius.

mr. dna started off putting the "punk" into the night [which i think technically means i was responsible for the post, which doesn't sound quite so exciting]. i'd say that he definitely had the edge in the bouncy energy department.

many thanks to those who stopped in throughout the night to share in the tunes, the booze and the remarkably tasty nachos and a special thank you to the ska boss who stuck it out until the end of the night and gave our weary bones a ride home…

eat the cup 2018, part seven :: oh, lionheart

it all seemed so magical: england's fresh-faced youngsters marching all the way through to a semi-final for the first time since 1990. everywhere, the delirious chants of "it's coming home". and then, deep into added time, the sad realization: it's not coming home. oh england, my lionheart.

now, if we're being really strict about things, my scottish ancestors would probably disown me for supporting England, because those are the bastards who drove them off their land and sent them packing to this country that's too hot in the summer and too cold in the winter. and indeed, shops in scotland have sold through their entire stock of croatian jerseys, as the natives rallied behind england's opponents in the semi-final. however, a few generations before they were starved and hounded from the lands they'd occupied for centuries, my particular brand of scottish ancestors would have encouraged me to support england [assuming that national football had even…