The Idler and New Escapologist have teamed up for “The Great Escape”: an evening of discussion, music and freewheeling anarchy.
Tom Hodgkinson (How to be Free, The Idler) and Robert Wringham (The New Escapologist) discuss practical ways to escape the banalities of modern life. This will be followed by a light hearted war-time type sing-a-long, with the audience invited to join in with the hosts on idler-themed songs.
For more information, see the official microsite or the Facebook event page.
“Escapologist” has been honoured with an official definition at Urban Dictionary.
Noun. (pronounced: es’cap·ol’o·gist). One who seeks to escape the imaginary manacles of modern life: work, debt, government, leisure industries, status and anxiety.
Derived from the stage magic of Escapology. Used metaphorically.
Coined by the satirical publication, New Escapologist.
You can give this definition a ‘thumbs up’ at Urban Dictionary, though I don’t think that makes us any money or saves the world or anything.
I’m a month into my mini-retirement in Montreal. So far, so good. A typical day consists of a late rise, breakfast, bread-baking, writing, exploration of this new city and night-time festivity with new chums. I’ll write more about the joys of not working in New Escapologist Issue Three, which should be available early in the new year.
A few days ago, I enjoyed Charlie Chaplin’s Modern Times at a local cafe-theatre with live piano accompaniment from Roman Zavada.
It’s an entertaining film for Escapologists in that it sympathises with the modern escape fantasy. Chaplin’s character attempts to escape humiliating work in factories, ship yards and department stores. He also ensures a brief spell in prison where he is taken after being mistaken for a the leader of a Communist demonstration. Tellingly, Chaplin begs the jailer to keep him locked up when the subject of his future employment is raised. Prison incarceration is preferable, it seems, to the world of work!
It’s fun that the film begins with the rapidly-spinning hands of a clock. To any worker, it prompts instant identification: a watched clock is surely the truest motif of modern division-of-labour-type work. Read the rest of this entry »
Advertisers love challenges. We’re urged to take the Pantene Challenge, the Dove Challenge and even the Vittel Challenge. The other day whilst rereading an American Splendor anthology, I came across one of Harvey Pekar’s early comics called “How I Quit Collecting Records and Put Out a Comic with the Money I Saved”, and the idea of a new challenge presented itself to me. Here is the wording from the second half of the story:
I live real simple and cheap, y’know. I don’t have a car and I eat cheap food, like I might have two hot dogs an’ some potato chips for supper. So I started askin’ around, tryin’ to figure how much it would cost to publish a comic book. So I found out I could save up enough bread in a year to publish one…So that settled it. I figured, fuck it, I’ll print it and if I lose money on it, so what! So I published American Splendor an’ I’m really glad I did.
What could I get if I gave up something for a while? I know lots of people have been going without money and consuming and writing books about it recently, but still, it’s an interesting idea. I could give up buying books for the rest of the year. I already own more than I can read. I have several library memberships, a BookMooch account, and friends to borrow things from. It can’t be that difficult.
I am certainly not into self-denial for the sake of it. If I am going to make this sacrifice, I want some kind of reward! After pondering on it for a while, I realised that I often think about how nice it would be to put out a really lush edition of my zine, but that the cost of the materials involved would just be too prohibitive. Surely, though, with minimal effort, I could convert the saved ‘book money’ into ‘zine money’. I think I am going to approach this very literally and get a piggy bank. Whenever I am about to click something mindlessly on Amazon, or splash my Foyalty Card, I will make a note to put that amount of cash into the piggy. If all goes well, in a few months time I can make a trip to the top floor of the massive Paperchase on Tottenham Court Road and blow it all on heavy grade paper. I like to live on the edge.
Alain de Botton and friends recently set up the School of Life on Marchmont Street in London. They offer philosophy-lead courses and secular sermons. Looks like fun. If you’re interested, there’s a free-entry open day on September 5th.
Ready to scarper on Wednesday evening, I have managed to reduce my entire personal junkstash to a ten-square-foot locker at a Glasgow SafeStore unit, and a single suitcase of functional stuff, which is coming with me for the escape. Here are ten immediate thoughts about mobility and “stuff”:
Mobility versus “stuff”
1. I think I value mobility above all else. Mobility is freedom. Anything that compromises your mobility – a house, a grounded job, a possession, an expectation – is another nail in the coffin of your freedom.
2. Most of my “stuff” is in the form of books. It’s telling that my final vice is probably one that most people would overcome before, say, cooking utensils or clothes. I don’t own much of anything. Just a modest number of books. With libraries and broadband almost wherever you go, there is no reasonable argument for a personal book collection so I’m forced to admit to object fetishism. I look forward to the day that I’m unsentimental enough to cut loose my ten square-feet, settling to own but two suits, a laptop and a library card.
3. Mobility and “stuff” don’t mix. When people flee the cities in disaster movies, they always fill their cars with as much junk as possible. I love that. There’s a lot of absurdity in the idea of an alien tripod in pursuit of a Vauxhall Astra with a houseplant and a grandfather clock strapped to the roof. Read the rest of this entry »
A wonderful gathering of escapologists, skivers, artists, poets, thinkin’ types and office monkeys descended upon the Glasgow CCA this week for the SugarApeNew Escapologist launch party. Thanks to everyone who came along.
Some celebrity appearances included Kate Wozza (Suck My Left One Radio), David Malone (GOMA), Laura Gonzalez (Glasgow School of Art), Pat Kane (Hue and Cry, The Play Ethic) and our very own typographic guru, Timothy Eyre.
Will there be more parties? I don’t see why not. I have an idea about a New Escapologist seminar and spoken word night in a library somewhere instead. Maybe to be followed by a party.
Back in 2002, the Adam Curtis film Century of the Self opened my eyes to the horrible world of PR brought about by Edward Bernays’ application of Freud.
Today I finally got around to watching Curtis’ 2007 documentary, The Trap and found that it’s devastatingly applicable to us as escapologists.
The series details “how a simplistic model of human beings as self-seeking, almost robotic, creatures led to today’s idea of freedom.”
I’ll probably write something based around its tenets for the magazine but in the meantime, here’s the first part of the documentary (with the rest available for free at Google video):
I am certainly not into self-denial for the sake of it. If I am going to make this sacrifice, I want some kind of reward! After pondering on it for a while, I realised that I often think about how nice it would be to put out a really lush edition of 
Rejoice! Issue 2 of New Escapologist is now in stock at 
