lost elation

Ridgwell

Lit Fiend Mail Continued…

20160823_115214Long ago and far away… That’s how it seems anyway, my days, years, spent in Kings Cross, Sydney NSW. All those streets I walked not so long ago… Anyway, after a few weeks respite, Dave the Postie once again arrived at the door of Ranchlette Ridgwell grumbling all the way…

‘More books Ridgwell, always books.’

‘Better than bills.’

‘I could get a slipped disc.’

‘Six months off on full pay, you’ll be laughing.’

Strangely Dave didn’t laugh at that, no sense of humour, but he did hand over several packages. And yes, as you marinate in your lonely wood louse infested bedsits, you’ve guessed it my fellow bibliophiles – more lit fiend mail.

This time, the third and final instalment of my novel – The Cross – arrived courtesy of Martin Appleby’s Paper and Ink Magazine and obtainable by clicking on this link – The Cross Part 3. I know fiends have been waiting for this mother to arrive on their doormat with thee old baited breath. And will it let them down, will it fuck! Adorned with classic Cross photography by Abbie Foxton part 3 finds the walls closing in on the three main characters and as the end of the century approaches Kings Cross is about to witness events that will change the glittering half mile forever! Just remember that the Cross is a state of mind!!

Next up Miss Urchin Belle’s – The Sunlight Pilgrims – follow up to her debut smash – The Panopticon – word on the lit vine is that shooting of the Panopticon is due to start within weeks! See stop press for further details. The SP’s is a disaster catastrophe end of the world identity-crisis combo, with all of the Belle’s trademark literary stye and verve – dealing with both the ugly and the beautiful in this world. Some hack referred to the book as possibly belonging to a genre known as Cli-Fi! No disrespect to the hack, but Cli-Fi sounds too close to Clit-Fi. What is it with these numptys, always having to pigeon hole shit. Lord give me the strength! Anyway the book is a killer and available from all good book stores. Pick up a copy el pronto is my advice!

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And last but not least. PUSH 22! Now, it doesn’t seem so long ago that PUSH head honcho Joe England called me and told me that he was thinking about putting a literary magazine together. I told him to stop talking about it and just do it, and the rest as they say is history. PUSH 22 is about as good as it gets, with some excellent poetry and fiction and a fascinating interview withMatt Johnson of The The. To purchase a copy, and you’ll need to start pumping those paypal buttons like a fiend possessed as those mothers sell out faster than you can squish another woodlice – go here – PUSH 22

Just one more thing lit fiends, word on the vine is that I’ll be reading at an event in September. (See poster for details) And see the fake book page. Absinthe & Anarchy You all know I hate readings, the sound of my own voice truly can freak me at any given moment, but every now and then I put on my smoking jacket and hit the road…

Absinthe

And of course, my dear little tug boat ultras. Would I ever forget you darling wankers. No way Jose. Check out this Super 8mm stunner from the Top Gun Room. One, two, three, when you go down to the woods today…

erotic

Educating Ridgwell

hp libraryA few years back a fellow lit fiend asked why there were so few books inhabiting the dusty bookshelves of Ranchlette Ridgwell. The answer was simple. Public Libraries. And one unusual PL in particular. Hale End Public Library. A direct excerpt from the prequel to my road novel – Burrito Deluxe – Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man – provides a perfect explanation to this libroless mystery.

‘I settled into a routine of sitting in this big old velvet armchair and reading. I brought different books to the shop each week all loaned from my local public library. I’d discovered this magic library in East London that specialised in counter-culture and cult writing. I unearthed a good deal of major writers in that library that would have a lifetime influence on my writing, Charles Bukowski, Jack Kerouac, Herman Melville, Jack London, Knut Hamsun, Richard Brautigan, John Fante to name but a few. I also discovered some of the ancient philosophers such as Aristotle and Plato – the Ethics of Spinoza – The World as Will and Representation by Arthur Schopenhauer and a huge tome by Bertrand Russell – A History of Western Philosophy. The collected works of Oscar Wilde, William Burroughs and Ernest Hemingway were equally devoured, along with a bunch of French writers who interested me greatly at the time. Charles Baudelaire, Jean Paul Sartre, Rimbaud & the best of the lot – Celine. So with the hours spent reading in the shop I was soon on my way to becoming well read.

Who the enlightened librarian was, I’ll never know, but I just can’t envision a teenager walking into a library today and picking up a hardback copy of Kerouac’s Vision of Cody and even more unreal a hardback copy of Bukowski’s The Most Beautiful Woman in Town!

So here we come to why I’m writing this blog. Readers or followers of my work will know that I’m not politically motivated. Politicians to me are all the same, out for themselves and to protect the interests of Big Business. Recent events in Britain make it clear that they have no interest in the ordinary man or woman and never have done. And yet sometimes even someone as apolitical as myself has to make a stand. I did it once before to save a pub in central London – the Nell Gwyne, hidden just off the Strand. We were successful that time and I aim to be successful again.

Get this fellow fiends. The bean counters and culture destroyers at Waltham Forest Council are trying to shut down my magic library. The library that inspired me to become a writer, the library that probably saved my life! They want to build some shitty flats and a supermarket! Fuck them! Without that library there would be no Joseph Ridgwell the writer. Now, some might say that’s a good thing, whatever – the library has to be SAVED!

All you have to do is click on the link below and sign the petition. They need 5000 signatures and already have over 3000. SO DO IT AND  DO IT NOW AND AFTERWARDS FEEL SORT OF SAINTLY!

SAVE HALE END LIBRARY

Milk Race Fans. I, know, I know – I’ve neglected you wankers for a while, but check out this Super 8MM stunner from the Fourth Emergency Service’s Top Gun room. One, two, three – Bermuda triangle don’t go too near, don’t go too near!

50's erot

 

Welcome to Jamaica…

Ok, I know what ya saying. Ridgwell’s taking the piss with all this lit fiend shit.He’s seriously starting to get on our nerves. Why don’t he just shut the fuck up and stop bragging? Well, what can I say, it never rains, but it pours! But Dave my beleaguered and overworked postie saved the best for last. And this time he refused to even knock on my door, but instead left the literary package with my neighbour, Stella. Now, I know what you’re thinking. Ridgwell’s neighbour is named after his favourite beer? But it’s all true!

So here it is – all the way from the a tiny little rock in the Mediterranean – Jamaica. Feast your eyes on this beauty and get turned on by a book! All other small presses’s look away now, as you don’t want to suffer an acute attack of the green-eyed monster blues.

Now fiends, start pumping those paypal buttons. To order a copy of this limited edition literary number go here: pig ear press

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Jamaica – think Montego Bay – like rum served on a silver tray. Think Ronnie and yours truly having another mad adventure in an exotic location. Think also of Bobby Bloom and Glenn Gould who never went to Nice. Now check out this amazing video to get you in the Montego Bay mood! Obviously no expense was spared in the production of this film. Check out the funky dancers on the river bank. Far fucking out!

Milk Race Fans  – The Fourth Emergency Service is back in business. So you crazy screwballs zone your perverted optics on this super 8mm! One, two, three, strip!

strip

 

 

Lit Fiend Mail Continued…

Fuck it, hardly a day goes by without more lit fiend mail arriving at Ranchlette Ridgwell, and more arrived today in the form of this handsome and most extravagantly produced journal. Copies of the journal are available in various art exhibitions in the People’s Republic of Derry or the Emerald Isle to you and me. Or you can go to their website for a copy, gratis, but also electronic. Abridged

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Strangely not everyone is happy at this stream of never-ending mail. Dave the Postie for one.

‘My bag is getting heavier and heavier, have these people never heard of email?’

‘Dave,’ I said. ‘Email and anything electronic is anathema to these people. They deal purely in the printed page.’

‘Well, d’ya think ya might be moving anytime soon?’

‘No.’

‘Shit.’

Anyway, like I always say if ya don’t like your job then stop whinging and quit the fucker.Check the bio below to get some info on what I’m up to writing wise.

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Milk Race Fans. Take a day off. Really you guys and girls are too much. Why not get out once in a while, get some fresh air. Maybe even take in a little Times Square action.

 Photos Of Times Square in The 1970s (13)

 

 

Lit Fiend Mail Continued…

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This time I didn’t even let Dave the Posite put the fucker through the letterbox as I knew the contents of my latest Lit Fiend package contained a fragile item. As soon the footsteps and rustling of envelopes and packages hit my shell-like I jumped out of my festering pit and threw open the door of Ranchlette Ridgwell with a determined flourish.

‘No!’ I bawled.

Strangely, it wasn’t Dave’s hang dog countenance that confronted me but the pretty feminine face of Caitlin the Postess – (Caitlin filled in whenever Dave was hungover, again.) Is there such thing as a Postess? You know like how some women refer to themselves as a Poetess. To clarify – no there isn’t – too many S’s for one thing. Actress maybe or Air-Hostess, as these have a nice ring to them, but Poetess sounds absurd and so does Postess. Anyway, I digress, I grabbed the package from Caitlin’s startled hand.

‘Beat ya to it,’ I said.

Caitlin eyed me oddly. ‘Aye,’ she said.

I slammed the door shut and ripped open the package. Inside was Issue 10 of Nottingham’s Handjob Zine, including a spoken word CD. I’ve been monitoring the progress of Handjob from it’s very conception, and have been impressed and even illuminated by it’s rapid development. Hand Job has nothing to do with wanking – and I always wonder about the state of people’s mind if that’s the first thing that pops into them- It’s called Handjob coz it’s made by hand! And issue 10 is bang on! I won’t reveal the contents – for you can buy a copy here: Hand Job Issue Ten

Jim Gibson and Sophie Pitchford have gone all out with this issue, and no doubt more established zines will be looking over their shoulder and wondering what they can do to stop Hand Job’s irrepressible charge to the summit of the Lit Zine world!

Joseph Ridgwell

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Edinburgh

Milk Race Fans. Una Dos Tres. It’s party time!

party time

 

The Counter-Culture – What is it?

 

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And who are they – the mainstream? Nobody knows and really nobody cares. Some fruits do things their way, while others do it theirs. Whatever floats ya boat as they say. And whichever way you look – it’s clique city in all directions, both underground and overground. Historically speaking the Counter Culture has been defined thus: A counter – culture is a subculture whose values and norms of behavior differ substantially from those of mainstream society, often in opposition to mainstream cultural mores.

The Beats were counter-culture, so were the Bohemians and the Romantics. But all that was a long time ago…

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This all brings me to the 2nd volume of the Blackheath Counter Cultural Review. Only 100 copies printed and most already sold. Move fast to get your hands on a copy here – blackheath books

Inside this pretty book you will find commentary on Beat Generation figures, poetry, Scottish Heretics, ruminations on the internet, and poetry – (including six of mine) short fiction and some F.A.B artwork. And if that ain’t enough to get you pumping those paypal buttons, then word on the lit vine is that this might be there very last blackheath production to see the light of day. All things must pass – as George Harrison once sung, and verily they must, for a rolling stone does indeed gather no moss

(Anyone wanting one of the skull and crossbones ashtrays seen in the pics – all I can say is seek and ye most certainly won’t find…)

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Milk Race Intellectuals. I’m here for ya, always. Think of me as the Fourth Emergency Service. Now you groovy wankers – zone ya optics on this Super 8MM eyeball cruncher! Grapes at the ready – Una, Dos, Tres – afternoon delight!

70's milk race

 

 

Lit Fiend Mail Continued – The Cross Part 2

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Cometh the hour, cometh the Postie!

Lit Fiend mail – don’t ya just love it!

Today Señor Sid the Mailman thrust – The Cross Part Two – through the door of Ranchlette Ridgwell without any due care and attention for the contents of the package. Royal Mail will be duly informed. The Cross Part 2 has just been published by Martin Appleby at Paper and Ink. The 2nd instalment in a three part series and which all you screwball lit fiends have been waiting for with baited breath while you squander the hours in cockroach infested bedsits all over the world! Well, it’s here and damned good it looks too. To order a copy – and be quick about it as there are only 50 copies in existence – go here:

The Cross Part 2

And it all started with Last Days of the Cross – seen here on the left. The Cross of course is long gone. Cleaned up and gentrified by a bunch of wealthy yet at the same time spiritually dead people. So even as I write these words – The Cross is a museum piece – a pean to a place and people that are – alas – no more. Some of them are even dead. It’s so long ago now that sometimes – in my darkest hours – I wonder if any of the events portrayed in the books took place and if I ever went to Australia. This is what happens when you set out to fictionalise your entire life – the lines between reality and fantasy begin to blur. Lit Fiends seeking to embark on a similar literary transportation – be warned – some of you might not make it back!

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Milk Race Avids – get behind the eight ball and feast your internet porn jaded optics on this 1970’s joystick! And no the pic isn’t fuzzy if that’s what you were thinking. You know what they say about bashing the bishop other than on your birthday! Maybe, just maybe, it’s time you sought professional help you sneaky bunch of wankers.

vintage

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