"The kids' book. You have to read it again to get what I'm talking about, but to the whole thing is an explanation of how language breeds duality, which then creates preference. Do you like my hat? The object of life is to break through that and get the party, which means transcending preference. The dogs finds it up the tree, which is a little too Christian for my taste, but they do get there."

"This was an EP. They're also from Grantham. Actually the the singer Wakey, he came to the Coventry gig on the tour last year. It was fucking incredible, and he was fucking pissed as well. Him and his wife were pissed out their heads. They live on a narrowboat and apparently that night they went home and both of them fell in the river. I want to get him on a record. I meant to but I'm quite selfish and I forget. But I thought he was a great singer. He did this EP and an album, called Attack Of The Porky Men. I bought that on CD and it cost me £30, an import from America, because it's not on CD really, I think someone just burned it. I didn't start listening to English Dogs until about 2006. I liked trawling through old punk stuff on YouTube. Discharge, GBH, Exploited: stuff I wouldn't have listened to as a kid even though I was never an English Dogs fan. And then I came across that EP and I thought it was brilliant. You can tell it's a Grantham accent. That was brilliant, mind blowing almost. And also the lyrics were just crap, ""Psychokiller rah rah rah..."" It's just rubbish. He's got this diluted Lydon-esque approach, but that's what I love about it. A lot of that new wave punk, around the 80s, it's all crap isn't it. It kind of reminds me of Roachee, it's all crap. People like them are similar in my eyes. So it was a really big honour when he came backstage. He was off his nut. He had a can of cider in his pocket and he came in and was talking to me and looking at all the beer on the side. I said he should just take it. He was like, ""You're joking, can I?"" And was putting all this beer in his pockets, him and his missus, ""Right, mate, mate, I'm going alright."" And the thing is, he knows. He knows. He said, ""When you went out there and you just looked at the crowd and went 'FUCK OFF' this is what I'm going doing, you know, don't you, you know."" Even though, on the hierarchy of punk he's like, down here, he believes in it and he can identify that kind of spirit. And I thought that was really quite touching. I've got his number, I should text him."

"It’s probably not cool to admit you don’t quite get a cult movie. But it’s probably better than trying to act cool by pretending you really dig a movie that you don’t fully understand. There are several other films on the Criterion label that I could expound on sincerely and endlessly: Life of Brian, Robocop, Straw Dogs, Hard Boiled, and The Red Shoes, for example. Instead, for the eleventh movie in my top ten, I would like to include a film that has become something of an intangible Magic Eye picture for me: Monte Hellman’s Two-Lane Blacktop. There is no movie that I have watched more often in an attempt to unpeel and unravel it. I have seen the film many times, first on Alex Cox’s BBC2 series Moviedrome, once at the theater, and many times in this very Criterion edition. Hell, I even visited some of the locations on a Route 66 trip. Still, I’ll admit that the movie is an endearing puzzle for me. I may not be the right age or nationality to fully crack the enigma of this movie, but the fact that I haven’t stopped trying in twenty-three years has to stand for something. Ryan O’Neal’s character from The Driver and Kowalski from Vanishing Point I feel I can race alongside, but James Taylor and Dennis Wilson always seem way ahead of me, their Chevy a mirage in a heat haze. But the fact that I’m talking about it now and waxing lyrical over it means that it has got under my skin in a way that other movies haven’t. And I will continue to pursue this film, even if I never quite catch up."