Plastic House on Base of Sky is the latest release from Kayo Dot, which is the primary musical vehicle of one Toby Driver, a multi-instrumentalist composer of non-idiomatic rock music. The band formed in the early 21st century from the ashes of equally ambitious progressive metal band maudlin of the Well. They have since pirouetted deftly along an unpredictable path of inspiration, with an ever-shifting lineup of players and instruments in tow.
Kayo Dot is one of those bands that never releases the same album twice. That being said, 2014’s Coffins on Io was as defiant a departure from their earlier work as the band has ever produced. It’s also arguably the most accessible and immediately enjoyable of Kayo Dot’s panoramic output – its dark Gothic sci-fi moods being tempered by glassy synths, infectious heavy grooves, and theatrically inflected vocals.
Plastic House on Base of Sky represents a logical step forward, and a sudden sharp plunge into stranger, illuminated waters. It ploughs a narrower, deeper furrow.
I read slowly. Well, no, I read at a reasonably normal pace, it’s just that I don’t read very often. The desire to read is a very sporadic thing for me. It’s taken me 5 years and 5 months to get through these seven books, and although that’s not the 20+ years it took King to write them, I still feel the weight of all that time spent living with these characters and this story.
For the record, I am almost entirely satisfied by how it all shook out in the end. I even forgive King his increasing indulgences as the story progressed, because what is creative writing but an indulgence in the first place?
On my last half day in Washington DC, I headed to the National Air & Space Museum, and followed a guided tour around to look at crazy cool old planes and spaceships, and spacesuits, and all sorts of stuff. This is a great museum for anyone who loves engineering. They’ve got the Wright Flyer, The Spirit of St. Louis, Skylab B, an Apollo test lander, a Saturn V rocket exhaust… All kinds of cool stuff.
I didn’t take that many photos because the lighting didn’t seem great at the time, and I was utterly exhausted from carrying around my bags, and frankly my brain wasn’t keeping up.
A city full of monuments, memorials, and establishing shots for TV’s The West Wing.
Boy, these are taking their sweet time aren’t they? This trip was FOUR MONTHS AGO.
As you may or may not know, or care, I have a slight fascination with the political foundations of the United States, the Presidency, the Constitution, and all of that contradictory ideological democracy nonsense. Washington was an obvious stop on this trip.
In Fallout 3, I remember walking around the post-apocalyptic ruins of the city, past all the major landmarks, buildings and so on, and thinking, boy, they’ve really shrunk this stuff down, there’s no way everything’s this close together.
Turns out that everything is that close together. It’s actually completely ludicrous.
The White House
I set out immediately after breakfast in the hostel, walking about 4 blocks and finding myself outside the White House. You know, the mansion where President Josiah “Jed” Bartlett lived in the TV show The West Wing.
Apparently, the real sitting president Barrack HUSSAIN Obama-care lives there. Also most of the previous ones also lived there, and this time next year Donald Trump will be settling in, no doubt painting it gold.
I could go on about US politics forever. It is an astonishing pantomime of assholes and idiots – but it wasn’t always that way. This was once the domain of Jefferson, Lincoln, Roosevelt, all kinds of great scholarly men of towering intellects and abilities, and personality flaws. I still admire the noble ideals of early America, a new land founded in opposition of the rickety aristocracy of old Europe, even if the founders were themselves all rich, elitist, white slave-owning, native-murdering creeps.
I was warned by several people that The White House is smaller than you expect. Perhaps as a result of this warning it actually ended up being larger than I had pictured. Naturally, there are armed guards and dogs patrolling the perimeter, and some protesters, but I was actually surprised by how much you could see, both from the front, and peeking through the black fence across the back garden, of the house in which the Leader of the Free World™ lives, and plots the transformation of America into a Communist State with Islam as the national religion. That was obviously a joke, in case you can’t detect my tone.
From the back of the White House I walked to the Washington Monument, the bizarre Masonic obelisk that stands at the centre of the National Mall. It is an impressive structure – which I realise is not a particularly insightful comment.
Look, it’s a tall, slender obelisk, surrounded by some flags. The stone is very smooth. You can touch it. It was built for George Washington. I think. You get it.
National World War II Memorial
From this point, I decided to walk down towards the Lincoln Memorial, which is incredibly imposing even from a distance. Along the way I passed the National World War II Memorial, which has individual arches for each state and territory.
Apparently this was opened by George W. Bush in 2004, and despite its slight Art Deco bent (hey, period appropriate I guess?) it blends in with all the neo-classical architecture of DC’s infinite plethora of memorials.
A short stroll along a frozen-over Reflecting Pool lead me to the Lincoln Memorial. The rather steep steps lead up to an open atrium, in which Lincoln sits in his gigantic throne.
It’s an unusually humbling experience. I’ve always had a great fascination for Lincoln. His achievements obviously speak for themselves, but it’s his intelligence and character that particularly appeal to me. He seems a gangly, oddball, almost avuncular fellow, very much the model of a New World gentleman.
I’m not sure how much he would have appreciated the absurd proportions of his Memorial, or that he’s forever perched in a ridiculous throne, but like all such memorials, it’s not for him. He’s rather famously dead. The monument is for all the people, as many Americans are fond of saying, before moaning about muslins and ay-rabs.
Arlington National Cemetery
Behind the Lincoln Memorial, a bridge takes you across the Potomac river and directly into the Arlington National Cemetery. I’m no particular fan of the US military, and the zealous and hypocritical reverence in which American military service is held makes me a little nauseous. That being said, there’s something about a hill covered in gravestones, marking the resting places of (mostly) men who served what they believed was a higher purpose, that I find quite moving.
People still get buried there, every day, because lest we forget Oceania is always at war. As you walk around you can hear three gun salutes bouncing across the hill, and its easy to get swept up in the ceremony of it.
Also in the Arlington National Cemetery, is a gallery dedicated to the service of ongoing struggle of women in the US military. It has taken an absurd amount of time for women’s military service to be recognised and appreciated. It’s one of those great unsung American Hypocrisies.
After this I walked up the hill to the Kennedy family memorial, where president JFK is buried, alongside his wife and children, including an unnamed stillborn daughter.
You know, some Americans didn’t want Kennedy as president because he was a catholic, and they thought he’d take orders from the Pope. Just in case you thought the nationalistic insanity of America was a new thing.
The plot is downhill from the Arlington House, and faces the Lincoln Memorial and on to the Washington Monument. Quite a view.
The Arlington House is on top of the hill is where the Confederate president Robert E. Lee lived prior to the succession of Virginia. Despite his love of the Union, he sided with Virginia and fled south to Richmond and become a general in the rebel army.
Further along is the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, with its large neoclassical auditorium, and solitary guard walking back and forth at regular intervals on a rectangular carpet. There are several unknown soldiers buried here, from various wars. There have been more in the past, though some have been moved to other sites.
From this hill, I could see a large building with absurdly long walls. It took me a few moments before realising that this was The Pentagon. So after spending a couple of hours wandering around the cemetery, I headed down to the Metro station and hopped over to there.
For understandable security reasons, photos are prohibited at the Pentagon, everywhere except the 9/11 Memorial. The memorial is small but very well designed, a series of stone markers curving out of the ground for each victim, arranged by their birth year. It sits in the shadow of the section of the building that was impacted. I didn’t realise but there was one family that lost three young children in the attack, one as young as 3 years.
Also, I should state now that if you believe 9/11 was an inside job, kindly leave this page.
The National Archives
Unfortunately light was getting short, so I ran out of time to get to the Jefferson Memorial. I jumped on and off the Metro and found myself at The National Archives instead. That’s how Washington DC works. Walk in any direction, find yourself in a historical museum or memorial.
Unfortunately the sun began to set, so I ran out of time to get to the Jefferson Memorial. I jumped on and off the Metro and found myself at The National Archives instead. That’s how Washington DC works. Walk in any direction, find yourself in a historical museum or memorial.Also here, the Declaration of Independence, the US Constitution, and various other important documents. which has a remarkable exhibit on the various rights struggles of America, some of which are ongoing. It’s amazing how xenophobic and anti-immigrant America has been since its founding.
But hey, it’s hardly as if America has the monopoly on xenophobia.
The Capitol Building.
I high-tailed it to the Capitol building, which some people mistake for the White House. The sun was setting, it began to rain and the domed roof was under construction, but still, kind of an important place where the important business of governance is obstructed by assholes.
Next time, spaceships and airplnes and stuff, at the Air & Space Museum.