One week away from The Jams Return
August 10, 2017
After last week’s flood of news I cut short my reflections on John Higgs’ wonderful KLF book, but things have been a little quieter since, so I’ll give it another go. Be warned though: I get rambly.
Towards the end of the book, John presents us with two choices. Accept the magical version of events and put the book down, or keep reading for a more rational explanation. I find it hard to believe anyone has ever put the book down at that point, whatever their beliefs. It’s easily one of the most enjoyable reads I’ve had, and there was no chance of me ending it early.
The rational approach focuses on the strategic use of models, both in our lives and throughout the book. This really speaks to me. It’s about using whatever works best for the task at hand or the story you’re telling, applying it where it fits, and discarding it where it doesn’t. A concept I touched on at the beginning of this journal:
“When your friend rings you just as you were thinking about them it seems mystical, but you don’t remember all the times they didn’t phone you when you were thinking about them.”
That’s a basic example of employing a model to create a narrative. Flipping a coin to decide where to go for dinner and then claiming it always leads to something delicious is another. You conveniently forget that both choices were bound to be decent anyway. We all do this, often without noticing.
A friend asked me: “Don’t you feel a bit silly pointing out all those coincidences in your own life, now that he’s basically nullified them?” The answer is no. Not at all. Those details were presented in a way that allowed me to latch onto them, so I could then appreciate the alternative and the power of narrative itself. You can’t show someone the opposite of something they’ve never experienced.
Yes, my mind was blown by all the parallels in my life (like the significance of 1994). And yes, I could probably find just as many “wow” moments if I focused on 1998, 2001, or 2016 instead. Just as the Discordians could have found unusual numbers of quarters on the street if they’d trained themselves to, instead of spotting the number 23 everywhere. It all depends on how you frame it.
John frames the K Foundation burning through a model built from carefully selected data points that support his outcome (to mess with our heads), while casting aside all the other details that could derail the story. He creates a spectacular version of events, then in just a few pages tears it all down and leaves us with nothing. My mind was blown all over again, and I was no closer to the truth than when I started.
That being said, I still prefer the magical argument. Even if it isn’t entirely plausible, it’s far more entertaining.
August 11, 2017
I’m starting to feel like a bad parent today. I’ve read far more about Bill Drummond than Jimmy Cauty, and it’s hard not to show favouritism. Not really my fault though — Drummond has been far more prolific in writing, which makes his life much more accessible. I suppose I should be thankful. If Cauty had the same appetite for publishing, I’d probably be buried under an even bigger pile of books by now.
Because of this, Jimmy has taken on the mantle of the mysterious one. Through reading, it’s possible to build a kind of fake rapport with a writer — I do this with most non-fiction I enjoy. You begin to understand their influences, motivations, and circumstances. All the little things that give context to a person’s actions.
When knowledge about a duo is limited, it’s easy to take scraps of information and apply them to both. You know, stereotyping. Not just reserved for the larger sections of society.
Before starting this journal, that’s exactly what I did with the KLF. What little I knew of either of them I applied to both, and I couldn’t have named one from the other. If you’d asked me what they were about, I’d have given some vague answer about “two blokes who burned a load of money for art.” How naive I was.
While Cauty and Drummond often appeared to be on the same page, that doesn’t mean they shared the same reasoning for their actions. It would be a mistake to brand the KLF entirely with the ideals of either man.
In my mind, there are three parties here: Drummond, Cauty, and the K Foundation. Two men, and then the sum of their parts. To have an informed opinion on the KLF, you need to understand all three in equal measure. And this is where I’m struggling.
Right now, my perspective is 90% Drummond. I don’t feel confident in my interpretation of events while my knowledge is so lopsided. Which means I need to turn my attention to Jimmy. I can’t possibly begin to understand the third part — the sum of them both — without doing so. And I’m running out of time.
August 14, 2017
The postal service hit hard today, dropping off approximately 635 pages of extra research to add to my already intimidating stack of recommended reading.
Because of the page count and content, I’ve temporarily dog-eared Drummond’s 45 and prioritised Turn Up the Strobe. Not because I wasn’t enjoying 45, but because I feel I can get through Strobe more quickly while also pulling out some valuable context on the duo, especially their activities in Liverpool. Plus, I’ve got that nagging need to level the playing field between Bill and Jimmy.
Also, it’s lighter to carry to work. And I’m a lump.
August 15, 2017
As others scramble to push out new details the second they drop, often without any context, I’m happy to sit back and let the calm before the storm wash over me. It gives me time to actually reflect on each revelation as it comes.
No one’s discovering breaking news from this journal — we’ve all seen the tweets and the updates, and we’re all fully abreast of the situation. I know that. There’s a whole community sharing updates in real time, so why should I waste energy doing what others are already handling brilliantly? Especially when it’s my unique insight and charming personality you’re here for… right?
Anyway, today brought another one of those updates (and of course it landed on a Tuesday, just to give me more last-minute material to cram in). Faber released details about Day One of Welcome to the Dark Ages. I’ve trimmed it down to the most interesting parts below — we all know the history by now.
A Public Hearing, The Black-E, Liverpool, 23rd August 2017.
On the evening of 23 August 2017 a public hearing is to be held at The Black E in Liverpool, to find out if there is an answer to the question ( Why Did The K Foundation Burn A Million Quid? ). This public hearing is to be chaired by the artist Tom James. A panel of five people will be brought together, to each explain why they think the K Foundation burnt the money. The panel includes: Jeremy Deller, artist; Ann Pettifor, economist; Tom Hodgkinson, editor of The Idler; Annebella Pollen, art historian; and Clive Martin, journalist.
Various witnesses to the original burning and subsequent events will be called for testimony. These witnesses include: Gimpo, Jim Reid, Mick Houghton, Chris Brook, Angie Sammons, Craig McLean and John Higgs. Note: neither J Cauty nor B Drummond will be amongst the witnesses, as they have nothing further to add.
The audience will be composed of the 400 ticket holders for Welcome To The Dark Ages . At the end of the hearing, this audience will vote on which of the reasons provided by the panel is the true one. If the voting process is inconclusive, a further 23-year moratorium will be called.
Why Did The K Foundation Burn A Million Quid? is part of the three day Welcome To The Dark Ages event, to celebrate the end of the Twenty Three Year Moratorium. All tickets have been sold. No guest lists. No exceptions.
At the start of this journey I wondered if, somehow, my own adventure into the KLF might have an effect on the event itself.
“Maybe, just like the theory of the Ideaspace, our own actions, stories, theories, creations could somehow, in some way, go on to affect the event itself, or even the outcome? Maybe I’m getting ahead of myself?”
Turns out I wasn’t ahead of myself at all. I was justified in making that prediction.
On Wednesday, we — the 400 — will be asked to cast judgement on why the K Foundation burned a million quid. After all the analysing and speculation, it comes down to this. My journey so far will directly shape my vote, and therefore has a hand in the outcome.
I head into this decision with opinions formed by what I’ve read, experienced, and connected to in my own life. Maybe I should have gone in blank, a clean slate with no bias. But now, after all the material I’ve consumed and the links I’ve made, my perspective is inevitably coloured.
Then again, if you’re going to leave the verdict to a group of people, isn’t it better they’re fully informed and able to form their own arguments beforehand? If Bill Drummond and Jimmy Cauty could have handpicked the 400, which do you think they’d have wanted — blank canvases, or obsessives who’ve lived and breathed it for weeks?
Will I vote for why I think they burned it, or why I want them to have burned it? Head or heart? Should we fail, another 23-year moratorium might be waiting. I wouldn’t put that past them.
Shortly after the Faber news, Liverpool Confidential published an article claiming that “for much of the past 23 years, The Justified Ancients of Mu Mu have worked as undercover Scarecrows.”
This must mean something. Or it might. Or actually it might not. Which, if anything, sums the KLF up neatly. Took me four weeks to figure that out.
I could sit here and overanalyse, look for symbolic significance and hidden clues. But honestly, I’m over the fear and anxiety now. What’s left is intrigue and a steady anticipation.
That composure comes from flipping the tables. All this time I’ve been worried about two unpredictable artists being in control of my life for three days. But the description of Day One makes it clear: it’s us, the 400, who are in control.
They’re not asking us to hand ourselves over to their experiment. They’re handing their project over to us. Four hundred people who understand the nature and art of chaos, who know the weight of ritual and magik — even if we don’t all believe in it. Four hundred people who probably want the most freaky, fucked-up result possible at the end.
A jury of 400.
Bring it on. I’m ready.