Tenfoot City

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This literary event, presented by Hull University’s Philip Larkin Centre, brought together two established crime writers – Robert Edric and Allan Guthrie – and also introduced a brand new crime novelist in the shape of Hull-born writer Nick Quantrill.

Edric naturally took centre stage for the majority of the evening, during which the capacity audience were treated to excerpts from Swan Song, the third of his “Song cycle” trilogy of crime novels, all set in Hull. Edric’s dry humour and encyclopaedic knowledge of the crime genre proved to be a heady mix as both he and Guthrie chatted cheerily on the subject of crime writing, and its inevitable links with the British inner city.

Edric, twice long-listed for the Booker Prize, was a down-to-earth orator and often displayed an entrancing dry wit (once explaining, “if my characters call each other by their first names, it usually means they’re about to have sex”). I found myself wanting to hear more of his anecdotes, and read more of his writing.

Allan Guthrie was an intriguing presence. Reading from his new novel Slammer, he showed an edgier approach to the genre than Robert Edric. Whilst Guthrie’s writing may be firmly rooted in the crime tradition, his individual style is further outside the box – there are no Sam Spade clichés to be had from this Orkney-born author. Slammer is that rare beast – the prison novel – and the short reading Guthrie gave us from the book hinted at a sharp, hard-boiled story that fizzes with tension and sharp dialogue.

Toward the end of the event, the two established authors were joined by local writer Nick Quantrill, launching his debut novel Broken Dreams, also set in and around Hull. The short reading from Nick’s book suggests he should have a promising future, and the scope of the book – it manages to interweave the history of Hull’s fishing industry with classic crime thriller motifs – is ambitious enough to show that this is unlikely to be a one-off.

All in all, a fascinating and educating look at crime fiction, from three writers who all approach their common genre in very different ways. Further literary evenings are forthcoming from the Philip Larkin Centre, and one can only hope that future events are of the same quality as this one. Bravo.

(c) Nick Boldock 20.03.2010

Hi Folks!

Do you not what I hate? Take a guess. Well yeah, quite a few things really. Bad Hair days, screaming kids and microwave meals with plastic covers that never quite want to peel off in one go. That last one’s probably the worst actually. Seriously though, my top hate has to be staying in. Those meals in supermarkets encouraging us all to stay in our homes, displays of DVD’s for “Lads” or “Girls” nights in, bargain priced booze aimed at encouraging us to stay in and pass out in a puke covered coma. Hate them all. Don’t get me wrong there’s nothing wrong with a good night in but with the way that some companies are pushing it you’d think that the outside world was some kind of derelict radioactive toxic wasteland (the other half has been playing Fallout 3 non stop, it rubs of on you) or that every one of our fellow men are going to shiv us for our last two quid and pocket lint. It just seems that more and more things in modern life are aimed squarely at making us one more removed for one another and quite firmly, at home.

“But it’s a recession!” I hear you cry. Fuck it, fuck the recession. Sick and tired of hearing about it thank you very much, it can go and fuck off. I’m sorry, but from the little economics I actually understand the best way to get out of one is to get out there and spend a little, so where better then a gig or club night? We should all get out there. So are is there anywhere worth going too?

Weeeeeeellll, yes and no.

True, there is some shit going on around the city from clubs and promoters who seems to think spending the bare minimum on their venues, when punters are looking for more bang for their buck, is a good idea. Putting on tired old night in drab old venues with surly untrained staff and expensive undersized drinks. You know who you are! As for the rest, there’s some amazing stuff going on in Hull, but you wouldn’t know it at first glance. Hullvibe is sparse, The mail has the bare minimum and I wouldn’t want to warrant a guess at the number of half arsed or “under construction” web sites about (The Adelphi and The Tower being main offenders, more on them later). It just seems there is a general sense of apathy (see Nick! I can do themes too! Apathy! pfft!) in peoples promotion of events. Even with the Tenfoot city listings you get an overwhelming sense of bands and promoters being too lazy to send in their information even though it costs them nothing more then a quick e-mail! I’m constantly chasing people who despite being “the faces” of their bussiness, might as well be on the dark side of the friggin moon! Everyone had high hopes for The New Tower but apart from Kings of Lyon every so often and so under advertised club nights, this amazing mid sized venue, that Hull could badly do with to attract out of town bands is totally under whelming! Ditto for the Adelphi, I hate to criticise such a legendary musical venue as the gigs and standard of band is PHENOMENAL but the promotion is appalling! Considering that there are so many people would help, or are trying to help Mr Jackson seems hell bent on pursuing a self fulfilling prophecy of the place closing down. An updated website, current answer phone messages, tenfoot city listings. Nah sod ‘em, tiny handrawn flyers are clearly the way to go.

No one is making an effort. Apart from the Welly who have been doing some seriously hardcore promoting and got 800 people at Shuffle, there new saturday night feel good social, for their efforts! Hell I almost had a heart attack when I saw them kicking it old school and actually stood around handing people flyers! (well done to Matt Edible and Topgun for flyering, although they should probably seriously think about investing in a sensible winter coat very soon,brrr, poor mites!)

Come on guys! Lets get it all together, listings, poster, flyers websites and show everyone what this city has really got to offer and finally get rid of all the smug twats bemoaning the lack of “there’s nowt to do in ‘ull”.

THIS IS TENFOOTCITY!

HULL INDEPENDENT MAGAZINE

AND OPEN-ACCESS WEBSITE.

“Voices from the street and the sound of the Suburbs!”

Welcome to Tenfootcity. The alternative name for the city of Hull, East Yorkshire, England. Tenfootcity is also the name of our physical street magazine as well as this on-line sister magazine. It’s an independent magazine by the people, for the people and with the people of this City and the wider area, all in a language and style we can identify with. The reason this magazine was devised and launched is because we decided we wanted to reflect (independently of any mainstream media) what we consider, to be exciting times for Hull and East Yorkshire. This City is fast becoming more socially and culturally significant than it ever has been (as recently exmplified by the HULL FREEDOM FESTIVAL) and we, as a true street magazine, want to highlight and encourage that transformation.

We are Hull and we’re proud of it!

(Now Click on our “About” tab to find out more about us, our street magazine and this open-access website……)

ALTERNATIVE LIFESTYLES?

WE’RE ALL LIVING THEM OR, AT LEAST, IMAGINING THEM!
Lee Cass elaborates…….

Just Imagine

Your Mother has buried you in the ground, she’s wept tears and worn black and now, as she’s clearing your house of it’s contents, your old lady opens a bedroom draw and discovers a 16 inch petrol-powered dildo and an envelope full of lurid Polaroid’s of you, your partner and that couple you met on holiday in Corfu.

Sure it was a great night. Everyone was high on wine and willing to experiment. It’s not something you’d advertise, nor is it something you regret, and yet, as you stare down at your nearest and dearest wiping off suspicious flakes from the “Black Mamba 2000″ and burning the sex photos in the kitchen sink you realise that one thing is gospel and true.

Nobody really knows anybody.

Everyone has secrets. Embarrassing desires and illicit thoughts.

Some, the brave, shameless and the mentally-insane have few things to hide. They it let all hang out and do not fear the consequences of their actions and it must be a very nice way to live. You can say anything, feel anything and want anything and not have to worry what other people think of you. Ok, you might get punched in the face occasionally, you might even get arrested, but at least you’re not keeping it all in.

If you ask the average person what they really want, they give you the pre-recorded common responses; I want love, I want money, I want peace. I want my husband, my wife, my kids.’

All pretty standard stuff and all fine choices, but dig a little bit deeper. Pause, roll a cigarette and think about it. Pretend that nobody’s listening and nobody cares and that if you didn’t admit the absolute truth and sing it from the rooftops, somewhere in Neverland, a fairy will die.

It’s a dangerous exercise.

Some will want to shag their next door neighbour, tell their best friend they love them or tell their lover they no longer do. Others will want to walk out the door and leave everything behind; the kids, the wife, the trinkets of life. Sure there are those who would want nothing more than a Giant Toblerone and a blow job and all I can say to those people is, lucky you! If your imagination doesn’t stretch beyond oral sex and confectionary then you’re probably very good in bed.

Still, do not fear that your desires are destined to be caged. Just because something isn’t socially acceptable or morally-sound today, doesn’t mean it won’t be tomorrow. Imagine those long cold years of homosexual repression, generations of men and women who had to hide their want, only for the state to one day turnaround and declare it all to be legally acceptable.

Personally, if I was gay, I would have been buggering my butch lover up the gates of Downing street in spite of the law. I barely pay attention to what I say, myself, never mind what nonsense the state, or law, spouts.
It’s in their best interest to encourage you to suppress your thoughts because, once you start thinking, Lord knows where it might lead.

I was highly tempted to concentrate on the whole  government expenses business, this issue, but it’s rather a boring subject. The only thing I find amusing about it, is the fact that people are crying that their money is being spent on moat-cleaners and women’s underwear….. well here’s a news flash ladies and gentlemen:
Your tax dollars are also being spent on bullets, bombs and nuclear missiles but I assume you knew that already and you are ok with it, otherwise I’m sure you would taken to the streets in moral protest by now. (Wouldn’t you?)

It’s all pretty fucked really, and perhaps it always was, and in the end the very best that we can hope for is that when we breathe our last breath, and leave this rock for good, a good friend of ours will find our Dildo, laugh  their arse off and chuck it in the outside bin. At least….. I hope they’d chuck it in the bin. There is  nothing more disconcerting than the sight of a second-hand sex toy for sale on e-bay.

Still, maybe it is better if all of our skeletons fall out of the closet.
Why be embarrassed for being a human being?

Lee Cassanell

P.S.  I’d like to big up the Hull Truck Theatre which  has finally opened it’s doors. They’ve managed to retain the charm and accessibility of the old building, everything looks pretty and new and  I, for one, am impressed from my boots to my bonnet.  Hull finally has an artistic base it can celebrate and be proud of and I cannot applaud the driving forces behind the project hard enough. A job well done indeed and if I could take them all out for an evening of scotch and strippers, I would gladly do so.
The opening play might have been the single greatest atrocity in Hull’s theatre history but I’m sure we will be blessed with many great  shows and productions in the future.

Can You Dig It?

(Well, what would Mr. Obama say? Yes….)

Silver Fox was paid immense expenses to check out the local “grow yer own” people….

Like many people, I’ve never given allotments a great deal of thought; or if I have, it’s been coloured by memories of childhood visits to muddy hell-holes to see my granddad.

I recall dour men, grimly eking a couple of sorry-looking radishes from patches of soil that looked like slag-pits and one rum old cove who – for reasons best known to himself and his CPN – kept the rust-ravaged shell of a Morris Minor on his plot that each year yielded a bumper crop of stinging nettles.

Mostly, I got the impression that the whole point of allotment-keeping was to escape “The Wife” by skulking in a shed. I saw them peering suspiciously from these clapboard wankatoria before sighing with blissful contentment and going back to their treasure troves of homebrew and back issues of Razzle.
In our current cursed era, however, allotments have come to mean a lot more to people; they’ve become a vital and practical epicentre for an emergent culture of self-sufficiency.

Once seen as the Utopian fantasies of 70’s hippies and sitcom characters, self-sufficiency is looking pretty damned valid; not only does it make sound economic sense for people to grow their own food, but with recent figures* showing that it takes four barrels of crude and half a blue whale’s worth of oil to transfer an anaemic and pesticide-riddled cabbage from soil to plate, it’s an essential way to help preserve our dirtball’s dwindling stock of natural resources.
Not that it’s called self-sufficiency any more.  There’s a new buzzword, cats and kittens: it’s now called permaculture.  Broadly speaking, permaculture is an all-embracing approach to life, and its cornerstones are sustainability – the preservation and maintenance of the resources we use – and ethicality – a mode of thought free of the baser, more grasping attitudes to production and interaction than currently holds sway in our fun-filled capitalist society.
It came as quite a surprise to learn that permaculture is alive and kicking (in a purely non-aggressive sense, of course) right here in Hull. Just off of Newland Avenue, in fact.  Hidden away from the bustle and crushed kebab cartons of West Hull’s notorious fleshpot is a massive expanse of pastoral tranquillity, a green and pleasant enclave where people of all types and from many walks of life are – whether they know it or not – diligently and quietly engaged in making the world a better place.

One of those who definitely does know what he’s doing is 44-year old Steve Dales, a former City Planning officer.  On his little (250sqm) patch of Heaven, he’s growing a startling variety of fruit and veg – even gourmet stuff like garlic and squash.  Quite an eye-opener for a culinary philistine like myself who thought that such things actually only sprouted from plastic tubs on the shelves of Asda. Steve, however is unassuming about the whole thing…..
“It just started off as a hobby, really – more therapy than anything else.  It gave me something to do, to focus on, after being pretty much immobilised by ME.  I didn’t know anything about gardening, to be honest, but I found out a lot online – and once I got into it, people would just turn up and give me stuff, saying – go on; plant that.”
Steve’s developing interest – and a shortage of funds – led him further and further into permaculture.  “It just makes sense to recycle.  So much stuff gets burned, or thrown into landfill sites, when it can still be useful.”
To illustrate this, he showed me a sturdy cold frame, cobbled together from old doors found in skips – “that’d cost a fortune from a garden centre, wouldn’t it?”
(And such invention isn’t confined to one cash-strapped scavenger; one of Steve’s fellow allotment-holders uses scrap metal and old engine parts to make rotorvators and similar agricultural equipment.)

Aside from the inventiveness, what really impresses about these people is that, in addition to shallots and broad beans (which I don’t like), a genuine sense of community (which I do like – in moderation) has grown up.  Almost by accident, Steve and his friends have stumbled upon a co-operative; skills, know-how, and salvage are freely exchanged, and tasks are shared on a tacit quid pro quo basis.  It’s frightfully heartening, if I’m honest – seeing the basic tenets of socialism being so unselfconsciously applied in a sort of “Unplanned Economy”.
This spirit of co-operation has opened up possibilities that earlier generations of “allotmenteers” would never have dreamed of as they glared enviously at each others’ big marrows.
Steve’s group are currently working on their own wind turbine to provide themselves (and others) with free electricity, while another loose-knit collective (in association with Friends of the Earth) have developed a Wildlife Sanctuary and hold regular open events during which kids can see birds, pond-life, butterflies, and – if they’re lucky – foxes.

It’s certainly a far cry from those miserable damp hours spent squatting on a Gro-bag in my grandfather’s shed being bored shitless while some old bloke bitched about his neighbour’s shed overshadowing his pea-patch.  The ramshackle sheds are being phased out, and many now store their equipment, relax, and cook in caravans (although the Council are obviously keen to crack down on such a dangerously harmless and pleasant practice), and it comes as no surprise that there are more and more people looking to get in on the trowel-wielding action.  According to Steve, there are currently more than a thousand Hull citizens chafing on the Council’s waiting list, just aching to get their hands dirty with something a little more constructive than picking up dog-shit – and who can blame them?  A plot costs around thirty quid a year, which seems like a pretty fair price to me, for food, exercise, and peace of mind (during my tour, I was almost freaked out by how quickly my customary cynicism and pessimism drained away).  If I have one complaint to make – and I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t – it’s that I didn’t run into a “Permaculturess” who looked like a young Felicity Kendal.

No matter; I might nip back there around harvest time and see if I can’t get my Good Life on.

Silver Fox

Anyone capable of rational thought should be fully aware in this age of information that the bible is a work of lunacy which has been used for last two thousand years to enslave our minds and persuade us to kill anyone who who isn’t sucking on a crucifix.  However let’s be honest. The world is full of thick people who can’t be bothered to make an informed choice based on their own research  so for the benefit of those poor thumbless unfortunates here is a list of quotes taken directly from the good book itself.

Of course the Christians will prattle on about the Old testament being a metaphor, a story within a story and if you read it backwards in front of a mirror in the middle of the night with one eye slightly closed the hidden message will reveal itself and Jesus will fly in through the window, sprinkle you with  fairy dust and whisk  you off to Neverland….but you know, Christians are ridiculous people and should be ignored at the best of times so read the quotes and brace yourself for impact.

Anyone who claims to talk with spirits must be stoned to death (Leviticus 20:27).

Any spirit except God that is, and lest we forget Jesus.

Anyone who does not worship God must be put to death (2 Chronicles 15:13).

Ah, power through fear. How very Christian.

Any woman who has had premarital sex must be stoned to death (Deuteronomy 22:21).

Sensible rules for the modern woman. It’s like Sex in the City was never made.

Anyone who worships another god must be stoned to death (Deuteronomy 17:2-7).

Ah. Kill the completion eh…very sensible.

Anyone who goes uncircumcised is to be exiled from his people (Genesis 17:14).

So Jews and anyone who pissed purple as a child are all safe as houses

If a man has sex with a menstruating women, both are to be exiled (Leviticus 20:18).

No wonder anal sex is so popular.

A man who marries a mother and daughter must burn in a fire (Leviticus 20:14).

A man who marries a mother and daughter should receive some kind of award in my book

If two men have sexual relations, both must be put to death (Leviticus 20:13).

You don’t get many Gay Christians do you?  Actually, you do!

If a mother and son have sexual relations, both must be put to death (Leviticus

20:11).

The entire population of Lincoln must be quaking in their sandals

If a man has sex with an animal, both must be put to death (Leviticus 20:15)

What about the poor innocent Pig? I’m sure he never asked to be buggered by the Farmers son.

If a woman has sex with an animal, both must be put to death (Leviticus 20:16).

Or given a five night run at the London Palladium

Anyone who commits murder must be put to death (Leviticus 24:17).

Except if they happen to be murdering Muslims, or anyone who worshipps other God’s, and Gay people, rebellious slaves and people who don’t use Coasters,

Anyone who commits adultery must be put to death (Deuteronomy 22:22).

3/4 of Hull council would be instantly wiped out

Anyone who disobeys a judge or priest must be put to death (Deuteronomy 17:12).

What if the judge or priest is corrupt? Ah, it doesn’t matter does it. You’re a peasant and should respect authority without question. It’s so clear to me now

Anyone who works on the Sabbath must be put to death (Exodus 35:2).

That’s Sainsbury’s staff fucked

Any strangers approaching a sanctuary must be put to death (Numbers 17:7).

When I needed a neighbour….he murdered me.

Any prophet who tries to turn you against God must be put to death (Deuteronomy 13:5).

Kill anyone who doesn’t agree with you. Magic

Any prophet who makes a wrong prediction must be put to death (Deuteronomy 18:20-22).

Nostradamus was suspiciously absent from the meeting of the Church brethren

If an ox gores someone, the ox and its owner must be stoned to death (Exodus 21:29).

Keep Oxon on a leash at all times

A stubborn and rebellious son must be stoned to death (Deuteronomy 21:18-21).

Look, you either let me molest you or I’m inviting the neighbours around to throw bricks at your head

Anyone who curses or blasphemes must be stoned to death (Leviticus 24:14-16).

Jesus Fucking Christ

Break the neck of your donkeys firstborn or kill a lamb instead (Exodus 34:20).

Why, just for kicks? Isn’t that how Jeffrey Dahmer started?

If a city worships other gods, kill everyone in it and burn it (Deuteronomy 13:12-16).

The leaders of Israel must have this one tattooed on their asses

God will kill men, have their children smashed, and have their wives raped (Isaiah 13:15-16).

What a nice guy

God will lay waste to entire cities and make the lands desolate (Jeremiah 4:7).

He’s a real charmer

God will set people, animals, and even plants on fire because of his anger (Jeremiah 7:20).

Even Plants!  I always wondered why I never saw any trees putting coins in the collection plate

God will send so much evil that people would rather be dead than suffer (Jeremiah 8:3).

And the songs of Coldplay are a testament to just that

God will kill young men, and their children will die from a famine (Jeremiah 11:22).

Can’t he just make it rain pizza’s or something?

God will cause everyone to become drunk so father and son will kill one another (Jeremiah 13:14).

If Gods buying, Ill have a double JD and coke with plenty of ice

God will not hear the cries of the people or acknowledge their sacrifices (Jeremiah 14:12).

So what are you saying…if you pray nobody is listening and you are in fact talking to yourself and you’re a bit…”special”

God will make people hungry enough to eat their own children and friends (Jeremiah 19:9).

That’s why I keep the company of Fat people

God will burn entire cities with the inhabitants still inside (Jeremiah 50:32).

Someone should take away this guys matches

God will break peoples bones and knock their teeth out with stones (Lamentations 3:1-16).

He’s a poet and he didn’t even know it

God will force fathers and sons to eat each other and scatter their remembrance (Ezekiel 5:10).

Everyone knows all Dads taste like Chicken

God will be comforted by killing everyone with pestilence, plagues, and swords (Ezekiel 5:12-13).

So God gets his kicks out of people killing each other. It all makes sense!

God will kill righteous men and forget their good deeds if they ever turn to sin (Ezekiel 18:24).

Big Kahuna Burger, I hear they do some tasty burgers

God will turn daughters into whores and wives into adulterers (Hosea 4:13).

I’m kind of growing to like him

God will kill children when they come out of their mothers wombs (Hosea 10:14).

Ooo, nasty

God will tear people apart and devour them like a lion (Hosea 13:8).

He should really eat more vegetables; too much human flesh is bad for the colon.

God will kill children and unborn foetuses because their parents worship other gods (Hosea 13:16).

The mans a Cunt

God will kill inhabitants of entire cities if they have a corrupt government (Micah 3:9-12).

Show me a government that isn’t corrupt and Ill show you a three eyed midget with ten tits

God will consume every living thing from the face of the earth (Zephaniah 1:2-3).

He should really consider a diet

God will send people to steal Jerusalem, rape the women, and enslave the rest (Zechariah 14:2).

I don’t think Jerusalem will fit in a car boot

God will send plagues on people and animals to rot away tongues and eyes (Zechariah 14:12-15)

Now he’s just being silly

Slaves, obey your earthly masters with deep respect and fear.  Serve them sincerely as you would serve Christ.  (Ephesians 6:5 )

…………….I think that will do.

Make up Your own minds!

lee Cassanell

Starbucks in the centre of town might be an advertisment for capitalism and evil global oragnisations but I must say I do like a nice tall frappachino and if that means a bean picker in Brazil has to go without shoes then I’m afraid I can just about live with that tragedy on my conscience.

I would however trade my frothy iced coffee for a return to the good old days, the days of urine soaked wishing wells strewn with litter and blue rinse grandmas who had travelled five miles by bus for half a pound of thin beef and a savoury duck.

Fletchers butchers once traded proudly from the premises were starbucks now sanitizes and those who remember will undoubtedly agree that there are few meals in the history of gastronomy that can compare to the sheer bloody pleasure of a Fletchers Sausage and tomatoe sandwich.

Now I have no doubt that the meat content of those delicious snorkers was highly suspcious and I’m sure they were mainly composed of lips, hoofs and snouts but I didn’t care about all that stuff back then. It smelled like meat and it looked like meat so I ate it and in these days when everything has to be ethical and health concious I sometimes hark back to a more innocent  time when you chewed something because it tasted nice. I mean it’s only in the 20th century that the working classes had a range of food to buy, before that it was kill whatever you can find and make use of every part and that world seems like ancient history today, something that cavemen did.

One of the most popular meals amongst the peasant classes in late nineteeth century america was Terrapinn Stew and just thinking about that turns my stomach but back then if you had a nice steamy plate of boiled alive terrapinns in front of you then you were eating and I’m sure the joy of that far outweighed the awkward shelling process and the gristly turtle head.

You wouldn’t find olives or pastrami at Fletchers what you got were the basics. Meat, pastries, buns and cheese and if you went in asking for some Chirzo the confused lady behind the counter would undoubtedly reach for the savoloys but compared to all the other butchers and bakeries this place was postively continetal, especally when you consider the alternative was Skeltons and they’ve been flogging the same bland tastless crap for years.

Some people might consider Bob Carvers to be the great Hull shop or perhaps the old Yankee Burger with the giant lips that traded were waterstones now stands but for me Fletchers will always be the daddy of them all and sometimes, when the stars are aligned and the wind is blowing in the right direction I can still smell the mouth watering aroma  of cheap savoury ham and the finest bangers this side of heaven.

Mmm…I’m off for a wank.

Lee Cassanell