Blue Windows 190mg+
Blue Dominos 204mg+
Blue Mickey Mouse 170mg+
Orange Lego Man 240mg+ ❤️🤯
Orange Owl`s 186mg+
Thomas Kerns- Wasteland Weekend 2019
There were a couple of kittens wrestling last night, so I put a laundry basket over them and called it Kitty Thunderdome.
Mom didn’t like it.
Bob Mackie designs for Tina Turner in Thunderdome
fantastic gabber scene
#NightWars #thunderdome #thunderclap
I just want to rave with my girl
Hope I’m doing this right, I have to go #recycle my #rum empties #coconutlacroix cans. Is #thunderdome open yet? I need to work off my #quarentine30
#fucovid19 #socialdistancing #pandemic #staycation #quarentine #stayhomemn #distopian #couture umadmax? (at Quarantine 2020)
Tina Turner as Aunty Entity, 1985
Post apocalyptic you say?
Who’s going to join me in the Thunderdome?
Maybe it’s time to bring back my mohawk. Y'know, just to be ready.
All photos by Sergio Mazzotta at Thunderdome 2015.
@ The Monster Is You, groupshow 31st October 2019
Like, when Macron wants to make Europe a nuclear power…feck’s sake, I already lived through *one* Cold War, mister! Or when the UKgov sets armed drones over civilian airspace. Or, just, Brexit, which, y’know, almost split up my wee family and forced us to move not just from one country, but two (though, if I’d known how beautiful Ireland was before I’d have given in and done it sooner, but nope, spent two years fighting a losing war and have the scars to prove it ) or like when the only news seems to be nothing but bad news (I used to make a point of ignoring the news..memo to self: start doing that again)
Well, then, I try to look on the bright side. Go on, admit it, you’ve got *that* bloody song stuck in your head now, haven’t ye, har!
I’m still alive, for one thing. And there’ve been times I almost wasn’t. Quite a few, actually. Like with an ex who tried to electrocute me by rewiring the washing machine. No, that sounds like it should be in a comedy show but it’s true, sadly. The shock I got threw me back against a worktop, almost broke my back (clear across the room) and I couldn’t move one of my arms for almost a month, but I survived. Obviously.
Or the multiple times my stupid heart arrhythmia put me in intensive care due to reacting to general anaesthetic..which is one reason I don’t want another operation. Ever.
But, aye, I lived through the Cold War. The first one, that is. As a young woman with a baby, I was amongst those living with a dual mindset (and *this* is a prime example of how incredibly easily folks are manipulated by media….) of having a brother in law in the Forces who admitted if the bombs dropped, we’d ALL be fecked. And of being a member of CND, going on the rallies, baby on hip, attending the meetings and watching the banned MOD vids that showed (diluted, as it turns out) the horrors of nuclear war and it’s aftermath. We were terrified the bomb was going to drop almost every day, more so with Reagan and Thatcher (may the auld bitch rest in whatever hell she’s in. I hope it’s a scalding one) in charge.
But also, we watched films. The eighties was the era of the Post Apocalyptic movie. A media designed defiance against the misery of total annihilation. Films showing the event itself and how a brave wee band of survivors armed themselves to the teeth with whatever they could, scavenged whatever they could find and built Mad Max type cars and trikes to keep “the enemy Hordes” at bay. Or where the event had already happened and a few plucky survivors crossed the wastelands, in search of a patch of land that was somehow miraculously untouched by radiation, mutations, deaths and starvation and disease etc.
All good adventurous fun. And when you’re young and healthy enough, you *do* fall for it. A lot of the music of the day also echoed the “Live life to the full, it might end tomorrow” feeling we lived with.
Then we grew up and many of us realised how damn close we came to blowing our stupid fucking heads to bits….
So to hear someone like Macron advise that Europe should be a nuclear superpower, well…let’s just say, I’d prefer a return to the original Cold War. There was, somehow, a weird, if twisted kind of “innocence” about it that isn’t here now.
Sometimes, it seems like the world has gone mad. Much of this has to do with the instant access to news and events (not always true, and usually always skewed from one particular recorder’s viewpoint, or outright lying) so, here I am on social media advising digital detoxes every now and again.
(Not that I think anyone’s actually reading this blog, but, ahem, if you *do* them’s my words)
Because the world is more than strife and fear, crushing hatred and war. The world is also family and friends, landscape and urban curiosities, the world has people in it who ARE willing to listen to others when they need to talk (I’m one of those btw..anyone wanna talk? I have ears. And I listen well.)
I haven’t had a comfortable or easy life. To tell it all would bore the feck outta folks and take hours. I’ve stared death in the face quite a few times and feared for my bairns’ lives (which is worse than anything), I’ve been homeless and starving (I once managed to survive an entire week *and* go to work potato picking on one dried packet of spaghetti..no sauce…but I was young and tough then) and I’ve been suicidal, particularly lately due to Brexit and the effect it had on my family. I’m losing my sight, my lungs are packing up and my heart’s giving me hell too, thanks body for packing up just when I’d like to appreciate life more…
But I’m glad to be living. In spite of the swamp of fear-creating news (nobody else think somehow, a lot of it is deliberate, designed to keep us, to borrow a word from Watership Down, “thrawn”? Trapped in the headlights of the oncoming car…) well, in spite of it all, life is good. And nobody knows if we get another chance at it. No, I’m not preaching..I’ve been there when hope seems like a forbidden dream and the only way out is to walk into darkness. I’m glad now I didn’t.
Because I think of the pain my daughter and husband would feel. Because I’d miss times like this, when I sit beside a warm fire and it’s quiet indoors, but the rain lashes the windows and the wind makes the trees sing like banshees. Because although I’m going blind, I can *still* see enough to watch the goldfinches eat grass seeds in the bramble thorns, and can still see (when they’re close enough) the gulls wheel inshore to shelter from storms at sea.
When the world seems like it’s going crazy, I retract into myself and turn to the things I know the madness can’t touch…making a hearty meal for those I love, keeping clean, crisp sheets on comfortable beds, tending the bright, warm fire, throwing my arms around my exuberant Border Collie, Bran (named for one of Fionn Mac Cumhaill’s hunting hounds of old Irish lore) and having him just be so happy to be fussed, so loving, so loyal. Small things. Old fashioned things. Comfort blanket things. Treasures that too many folks in the world don’t have access to…
When I was young, I did my activist stint. Back then, we made zero difference. I learned governments will do whatever the fuck they want no matter what the people say en masse. Proof of that? Cameron, May, Johnson. Trump. Countless others. I was never a pacifist. I believe if you or your family is threatened, words won’t stop what’s coming…you have to fight. Even if you lose, you *have* to fight.
I did, for two years, and lost. And we’re still wounded. But it worked out alright for us regardless.
So the point of all this rambling? When the world’s going mad, turn away from it. There’s no shame in hiding from it, because unless you *can* change anything, all it will do is eat you up and spit you out, destroyed, body, heart and soul.
Sometimes the only thing we can do is live our lives the best way we can. And if enough of us did that, maybe then things might change. Me, I have to leave activism to the young these days. I hope they have as much fight in them as we had back in the eighties, campaigning against the likes of Cruise Missiles and on behalf of Greenpeace etc. We did what we could, even when we knew it wasn’t enough.
But NEVER be ashamed if you can’t be part of that. If all you want to do is hide away from the madness. Be proud, instead, of living a life you choose to, and of living it well. Because others see that. And what others see, they often emulate.
Excisions Evolution tour did not disappoint 😤😝
Mijn Gabber Koningin ❤ ik hou van je