Unconventional Industrial Artist
Visit my 'blog' area above for reading lists on pertinent issues relevant to the perspective of this site, drawn from my personal home library, and then my further periodic jottings in what has become a pedantic, never-ending audio-literary diary on the harrowing collapse of sound European civilization.
Otherwise, consider browsing around this site for some of that good, old-fashioned musical variation. It will not necessarily be pleasant. I like to express exactly what I think, in line with an observable external reality. In former days this uncommon and worrying technique was known as "honesty".
Paperback Proof Copy
More of this material can be found in my self-published print book, "The Less Than Jolly Heretic: The Philosophy of Hurt Children and An Adult's Transvalued Moral Principle", clocking in at 800 gruelling pages of Speaking Truth to Power (which would itself have made for quite a good alternative title save for the irony that it's nigh-on the complete opposite of what everyone else in it is doing).
Expect a candid opening autobiographical essay on a difficult life detouring into the matters of science, high culture, history, and society that interest me, followed by a selection of personal letters and an extensive, no-holds-barred diary covering the two-and-a-half years between early 2022 and the Summer of 2024, and then a selection of personal poems, artworks, Nature photography, and home life pursuits, plus a lengthy bibliography cataloguing my entire library.
My print book is available to purchase from Lulu print on demand services. Email me if you'd like to arrange to purchase a print copy. Unfortunately, being a large hardcover linen wrap book, with full colour on the internal images, and on good quality coated paper, Lulu printing costs run to £43.46. Since I'd rather get the information out than mess about looking for profits, if you'd like a physical copy for your personal library, I'll cover £20 of the cost personally plus all post and packaging, just to be fair to you. Alternatively, I can give out a flattened PDF e-copy for free. My business email address is at the bottom of this page. Email me with your postal details, I'll give you my PayPal address, and then I'll order a copy myself for you, delivered to your address.
Origins
The project name Bleach For The Stars (BFTS for short) that I utilize for my website and - primarily - for one of my musical solo 'bands', was picked as a sardonic wordplay on the showbiz idiom "reach for the stars" which means to achieve something difficult, but which also evokes mercantile qualities that I find rapacious and that I associate with the crass, sell-out attention-seekers of the music industry. Capitalism, internationalism, corporatism, and indeed Conservatism all cause me great displeasure - not that I have any patience for Communism, Bolshevism, Marxism, and all the rest of those universalist and utilitarian dogmas, the vulgar authoritarianism of utopians. You might assume a sympathy for nationalism, or the petit bourgeoisie of the right-wing, marching along like Bavarian burghers to personally deliver a handbag's worth of someone else's litter to the council dump, or indeed presume a modicum of patriotic reverence for the society of the country I inhabit, and the national project altogether. You'd be wrong on that. I despise the lot of them. I've given up trying to explain my position to most people. It's not ideological. Politics, of any stripe, of any faction, infuriates me, and I take no interest in current affairs, party movements, or activists, no matter what they'd like to root for or call themselves.
Much as the NSDAP was the German political movement of the National Socialists - a genuinely national folk community enterprise in opposition to all aspects of greed, corruption, and international capitalism, neither right-wing nor left-wing - the principle of National Socialism itself is distinct as an all-encompassing eternal worldview, in essence far pre-dating 19th Century Prussia and the Third Reich of the 1930s. A spiritual principle of life and beauty, based on the fundamental physical laws (and near fundamental, if one considers structure, form, and multicellular complexity) laid out by Nature. If anything, I have the most political sympathies for socialists.
There's something saccharine and banal about the original motto also, especially in overuse. Not everyone can attain mastery. As both Alexis de Tocqueville and - with a life-time's torturous precision - Friedrich Nietzsche have pointed out quite well enough already (let alone Murray Rothbard), egalitarianism is for slaves. There are plenty of them about to promote it, certainly, or at least to unconsciously act out the principle daily, regardless of an awareness of the linguistic terminology or an investment in the texts of this philosophical religious doctrine, a creation of Paul the Apostle, given over one thousand seven hundred years of deep pedagogic introjection in a civilization brutalized by Christianity, and the secularized Christian values of the French Revolution and the Enlightenment. A genuine European civilization favouring the lives of physical European bodies, and not simply their ideological soundness and conformist orthodoxy, did not really outlast the Fall of Imperial Rome. The West itself is a theocratic construct, carried on too long, even as that alien desert god is jettisoned for an atheist's holy 'reason', and the humanist determinism and reductionism of soul-dead materialists, a terrible nihilism that jeopardises our science and voids us from the spiritual, and the awe-inspiring.
My project title was also intended as a serious reflection on what I personally deem "psycho-cosmology", with a recommendation to clean up and whiten our perceptual universe – to think clearly, and purely, in bodily health, and to pursue truth; to find our fundamental conscious purpose within the vast, cyclical aeons of the physical realm; the only reality. The stars, looking down coldly on us, a blinding light appearing brighter than the Sun, would be as good a place to start that cleansing Renaissance as any. Under their dazzling glares, we can observe ourselves, near indistinguishable in our servility. It's good to be optimistic generally.
I regularly attempt linked concept albums, each building somewhat on the previous, so there are a few common themes I return to. Musically, I compose bleak Electroacoustic and Post-Industrial experiments, ominous Dark Ambient, morose modernist Neoclassical and even a varying selection of fairly accessible Folk-Industrial (or perhaps electronic drumming Neofolk) crossover pieces, as well as melodic Techno-Industrial 'Pop' and Synth-Pop, harder Rhythmic Industrial music, and synthesizer based 'vintage' soundtracks, with an eye to history. It's quite hard to categorise by genre, as many of the albums are completely different from each other, and freely mix different styles of European music, from ancient Dorian, Roman, and pre-Christian rhythmic influences, to Germanic, Icelandic, and Celtic motifs, to the traditional Western harmonic style and the genuine, and to the primitive Bacchic decadence of the contemporary, the latter unfortunately affected at times by the African drumming utilized by folkish rock music, albeit with sequenced drumkits. Some tracks have poetic spoken word lyrics, delivered in my rough, acerbic singing voice, rendering them better understood as "songs", and some don't. Some instrumental pieces too are driven social observations, cautionary warnings, mournful reminiscences, and memorials, and some remain ephemeral, numinous, or reflective, almost opaque, but never entirely so by active design. I have never been interested in writing commercial lyrics, so do not make any conventional popular music theory concessions. Most of the verses began as structured poems, with formal metre and rhyme, re-arranged slightly later when I set them to music.
I refer to my project as 'middlebrow' in that it's too intense and serious in concept for casual listening, and more elitist than is generally expected in the mass of low IQ gibberish that passes for 21st Century lyrical popular music and yet is still a very long way below the beauty of Classical music, the real, only, music of Western civilisation. There is no compare.
I think I somehow tread the line between dark underground anger and genuine aesthetics, very raw, somewhat dissonant, sparse and minimalist, and deliberately lo-fi (mastered in other ways by professional audio engineering courtesy of J. Stillings), and DIY in nature. I'm working on bringing it closer to a Classical structuring, or at least proper Folk, minus any aspect of the soiled, degenerate modern world. I think I take too much pleasure in unorthodox scales and live improvisations.
I despise autotune manipulation and look at the much-lauded quantizing process with near-total contempt, seeing yet another sterile, mechanical gimmick, the go-to artifice of spoilt, trammelled snobs. Much of what is deemed as professional modern production merely serves as an uninspiring corporate tool for the psychoacoustic marketing of bullshit to asinine minds, bolstered by advanced computational linguistics research, a brightly spray-coated polystyrene packaging for the ear, prepared by factory robots, just more white noise despite it all.
I favour live physical instruments and have a violin, autoharp, ocarina, and acoustic guitar to work with, plus a few others occasionally, as well as utilising an M-Audio Oxygen 25 keyboard running piano emulation software such as PianoTeq7. I compose most of my rhythms from scratch using the Re-drum software drum programmer that comes with Reason 12 but am also fond of implementing found sounds & field-recordings, spoken audio samples drawn from contemporary mainstream news, random videos uploaded to the internet by members of the public, and alternative media commentators, and home-made percussion picked up on Dictaphone. I am extremely fond of Goldwave, and would be totally unable to complete 85-98% of my song-crafting process without it.
BFTS has never played live, and never will. Besides being unwieldy to perform as a live solo project due to the multiple instruments, I also hold a great disdain for the lowest common denominator of modern audiences, too busy becoming intoxicated and boorishly heckling round the side of their iPhones to pay any attention to what I'm trying to convey. For the same reason I don't court record companies or music journalists as I have no desire to let the former mutilate my vision whilst ripping me off, or to sit back whilst the latter censor me, misrepresent me, or get offended at what I have to tell them, bitching and groaning and gossiping like the pseuds they are, and scuppering my potential sales in the process, making the public's minds up for them. I don't understand reviewers who review what they don't like, or don't really have much interest in. Consider the reason and logic and integrity of that beyond journalistic ego, just what is the point? You can be genuinely passionate about something if you want to boost it in public. Otherwise, just ignore it and leave it alone. This music is quite far from the mainstream (lack of) taste of music executives also. I'm sure they'd wish it didn't exist.
I have about 40 full albums and alternative editions written with this project, although I do not store them all online for sale, and some remain private, written for pleasure, or among friends. A few have been lost or deleted by me. Some have been stolen or misplaced by external stupidity. If you'd like to hear my full canon of commercially available work, as of 2024 (where my 'better' music project terminates as to tell you the truth I've got better things to be getting on with and I'm only Grade 5), head over to Bandcamp:
https://bleachforthestars.bandcamp.com/
Note: if you click on the small crotchet symbol with the three horizontal bars to the right corner of each album player below, you can listen whilst reading my personal album notes.
PS. for anyone interested, I did a brief phenotypical analysis on myself in line with the physical anthropology of The New Racial Classification by Eduardo Velasco of Europa Soberana. As best as I can ascertain so far, I'm a mixture, perhaps 60/40 of Red Nordid and Armenid. My face is predominantly Red Nordid in structure, but with a partially aquiline Armenid/Dinaric nose and amber, small-pupil eyes. It's hard to tell from photos and when gelled, but my hair's not black so much as dark brown.
I'm still assuming the influence of the latter European racial category on that though, as opposed to an Alpine influence, although I'm not sure. I think my straight forehead shape, heavy-set eyes and straight skull, jawline (I have teeth missing on both sides which collapse it a little), and wide rectangular face are Red Nordid. Pure Red Nordids originated between 50,000 and 30,000 years ago in Siberia and among the glacial mountain ranges of Central Asia such as the Altai, whereas the Armenid from which they evolved are associated with sub-Pyrenean Spanish populations, the Armenids, a non-Semitic race originating 60,000 years ago from the proto-Khoisanid race of Eastern Africa, with genetic contributions from the Eastern Neanderthal race in the Near-East at sites in the Eastern Mediterranean, entering Europe 8000 years ago and establishing the earliest Neolithic European cultures, just as it is suspected likely that the Indus civilization was Armenid with some Red Nordid influence.
I have, in general, a very pale skin, approaching beige/bone at times, but with a ruddy pinkness on my hands, much as that may be scar damage as there's often stress-induced psoriasis. I bolstered that with the Celtic/Norman (Irish and Icelandic/Frank more than Viking) background, my general skin sensitivity, alcohol tolerance, inability to tan, thin philtrum, and, to a firm degree the ancestral psychological qualities, plus the historical Nature love, and perhaps a certain rotundness, much as it's hard to discern that due to the Klinefelter's/psych meds years. One of the few things out of place is the height. It says most Red Nordids are moderately short and stockier, and Armenids are small and gracile whereas I'm just over 6ft 2 (occasionally measured at 6ft 4 in the past before lower spinal damage at the point of my coccyx due to a windsurfing accident, flat feet, and a terrible computer posture put pay to that - or just, you know, getting old). Other than that, I notice my lip colour is in contrast to the surrounding skin.
I empathise over the compromised bloodlines, and just wish others would have a little humility on this. For example, I often wish my father's family had kept their marriage choices to the Norman side (for the martial aspect; a bloodthirsty early noble family with multiple castles, retinues and stately homes) but then again, it's the Celtic (Northern Irish/Scottish) side that retained the Red Nordid aspect, much as originally the Norman side descended from Icelandic pirates, where there's also a Red Nordid prevalence. Also, there's a closer West Frankian element to the baronies than Viking. I'd been assuming that the Armenid snuck into the Irish descendants of the family around the impositions of the English Reformation to the Cromwellian years, but the 12th Century Anglo-Normans who invaded Ireland did have Near-Eastern portions to their empire.
Past the Brittany point in the Dark Ages, it's hard to trace the family, although one thinks of the Gallo-Roman/Merovingian dynasty capital city of Vorgium (Carhaix after the Fall of Rome) from where the name de Poher originates, the family name morphing into le Poer, and eventually Power (variations being the early spelling Powar, from 1176, or Poherhays in the Devon branch). Examining Velasco, I see members of the Roman patrician class had some Armenid features, so perhaps I may be able to take this mixed-tribe European component back further than I had previously accounted for. The Old Irish aboriginal inhabitants of Ireland had Iberian features also, so maybe a certain amount of later interbreeding was responsible for this (to all accounts and purposes) lesser injection, especially as time went on and family strength diminished.
This ancient Breton principality was known as Poher, the seat of the Carolingian viscount Alain de Poher, son of Rivallon IV, Earl of Poher, and grandson of Duke Salomon, short-lived King of Brittany, himself the son of Rivallon III of Poher, the son of Count Erispoë of Poher, King of the Vannetais. The first Bretons originated on the British mainland, from Cornwall to Wales.
A silly Countess, Lady Catherine Power of Waterford changed it to La Poer at one point, which seems to have held among some of the family. I also find de Poer, and even de la Poer, though the latter seems pretentious.
I see, by curious coincidence, that there's Leonal Power, an early Renaissance composer, living in Kent in the 1440s, well represented in the Old Hall Manuscript, one of the few manuscripts of English music to survive undamaged following Henry VIII's dissolution of the monasteries. Unfortunately, it's choral, of a religious nature, befitting the times. Of further 'coincidence', my father informed me once that Parr is, in some complex sense, an English derivative of Power but, following an etymological examination alone, I take this with a grain of salt.
I read amber (and indeed green) eyes are simply a pigment loss from blue, like my father's light blue/grey and the blue of his father and grandfather, and all before. I'm glad I'm sterile though (much as that selfish part of me would have liked to have had my own children, could I ever have managed so. Realistically it would have been a poor decision racially though as it's evolutionarily unwise to breed if one is looking to retain the phenotypic/genetic purity of a people, a purity almost lost in the modern world, and dwindling fast: my interest is in - to use the colloquial American expression - 'whites' more than other races).
A Note on "Power":
The name was spelled differently in 'the olden days' (as my partner would put it) and changed over time as pronunciations changed.
One reason for this is the /bh/ pronounced as /w/ in Irish Gaelic pronunciation, occurring when the /bh/ is found in the middle of words, (and as /v/ when found at the beginning of them) and a subtle mispronunciation of the then Anglo-Norman family name by the Irish natives of the Poher/Le Poer baronies. This pronunciation occurs in the 'Munster dialect' of the ancestral province encapsulating Waterford, the main area of Ireland invaded and settled by the family's knights accompanying Strongbow in 1170-1172.
Irish wasn't written down at all until Christian monks arrived after AD 400 and attempted to utilize the Latin alphabet, which is entirely unsuited to the task and there is no letter /h/ in the Irish alphabet. The /h/ symbol in used nowadays as a diacritical mark only, showing an "aspiration", where a consonant is 'softened', and replaces the sheimhiu (pronounced: 'shayva'), a dot put over the consonant in question.
The consonant sound is changed i.e. /b/ goes to /v/ or /w/. One can now see how Poher would be translated in writing as Po(u)er. Here are two examples of Munster dialect pronunciation: cabhraigh (pronounced: 'cawrig') and cabhsán (pronounced: cawsaun) [the /w/ sounds like a /u/ vowel].
I could see the /h/ disappearing in written spelling, but not a further shift to /v/ in "le Pover" and then an additional /w/ replacement and it was the other way around - /h/ to /v/ did not occur and /w/ to /v/ is not considered to be part of the High German Consonant Shift. It looks like the High German Shift occurred by AD 500 (potentially as late as after the 16th century) and Power is commonly found in England in this exclusive spelling only from the 14th Century onwards, rendering this hypothesis achronological.
It seems vengeful enemies and court rivals had some play in the laboured explanation that Power comes from 'le pover' ("poor man"; "pauper"), which is merely a nickname (or soubriquet), given either to Roger of Salisbury as a pejorative, or to his son Robert, or self-attributed as an accolade suggesting generosity and a holy vow of poverty, the latter of which is unusual as they financed the building of castles (including the stone iteration of Devizes castle in 1120, referred to by a contemporary source as “the most beautiful fortress in Europe”).
The family name de Poher (late AD 700+) morphed over time into le Poer (AD 1100+) and then into the Anglicised Power (AD 1300+). "De" mean "of" in French. "Le" is the masculine form of "the" in French. Various branches retained the distinct names longer. The hardest point to find them is just before then during the Black Death, but they crop up again in force from the 1400s onwards.
Pou (Latin, from "Pagi" "district"), pronounced: Po +
Kaer (Old Breton "fortified city"), pronounced: kêr
= Poher, pronounced: P’her.
The House of Poher, beginning proper with Erispoë I of Poher, represented one iteration of the rulers of Brittany.
Conan I, son of Judicael (Berenger in Frankish sources) of Poher, Duke of Brittany and Count of Rennes established the Norman-Breton pact with Richard I of Normandy.
Another notable member is Arnold le Poer, Seneschal of Kilkenny, and commander of the army of Edward II which defeated the invasion of Ireland by Edward Bruce, the younger brother of Robert the Bruce. Arnold had the formidable Bishop of Ossory, Richard de Ledrede, the prime instigator of the Kilkenny Witchcraft Trials arrested and imprisoned. When the bishop secured his release, Arnold was himself arrested on charges of heresy and died in Dublin Castle in 1328 whilst awaiting trial. I know the feeling.
Following the Irish rebellion of 1641 the Power family were pardoned in the Cromwellian Act of Settlement, though left impoverished by the war. Having been respited after inquiry from the threat of transplantation to Connaught, they were placed in a state of recusancy, although there was no forfeiture.