The World's Shortest Blog
I'm almost electioned out here. The wife is getting nervous jitters and Ms Thing just rants everytime election coverage comes on the BBC in that oddly caring yet off-hand and foul-mouthed way that only 16-year-old American girls can. Well, the way ones that have spent a year and a half living in Huddersfield can.
Anyhoo, I don't begrudge people a past, but neo-cons do set themself up a bit on the moral front. All this is reminiscent of John Major and Sarah Hogg's "back to basics" thing. Doomed to failure as long as it comes out of the mouths of humans with all our flaws.
So someone, please; ask the question.
Nighty-night now.
Sunday, October 31, 2004
Another Sunday download
About this time last week, I provided a link to Go Home Productions' Rapture Riders, along with a list of instructions for a successful Sunday. This week, here's another GHP track to suit the more introspective mood I find myself in.
What happens when Radiohead and The Beatles collide? Karma in the Life, that's what.
Kick back and listen with your choice of intoxicant. I intend to be no more prescriptive than that. Enjoy.
What happens when Radiohead and The Beatles collide? Karma in the Life, that's what.
Kick back and listen with your choice of intoxicant. I intend to be no more prescriptive than that. Enjoy.
Rock-Paper-Scissors-Spock-Lizard
"This game was invented because it seems like when you know someone well enough, 75-80% of any Rock-Paper-Scissors games you play with that person end up in a tie. Well, here is a slight variation that reduces that probability. (Note that for those of you who like to swing your fist back and forth and say, 'Rock, Paper, Scissors, GO!', might want to continue to do that, replacing 'Rock' with 'One,' 'Paper' with 'Two,' and 'Scissors' with 'Three.') This version is also nice because it satisfies the Law of Fives."
What "Law of Fives" is this? My head hurts; I need a lie down.
What "Law of Fives" is this? My head hurts; I need a lie down.
Researchers Develop Neural Prosthesis Allowing A Monkey To Feed Self Using Only Its Brain
If they manage to link this to wanking, then they could create a goldmine here.
I'd have it installed. I've started saving.
I'd have it installed. I've started saving.
Think about it
Have you or has anybody you know ever seen Jo Brand and John Sargeant together in the same room?
Just think about it. That's all I ask.
DRUDGE REPORT FLASH
CRONKITE: KARL ROVE BEHIND BIN LADEN TAPE?: "Former CBSNEWS anchorman Walter Cronkite believes Bush adviser Karl Rove is possibly behind the new Bin Laden tape."
You know, Drudge gets some things wrong and some things right. There was the John Kerry scandal thing that backfired so spectacularly earlier this year. This one.... I dunno.
I remember back in the 80s I went through a fairly long period of taking no news at face value. Every major story seemed to have a degree of "presentation" to it, of an element of "I told you so" in every comment from the government of the time. I became an enormous skeptic during that period. The problem is, after a while it becomes very difficult to maintain a reality that chimes with everybody else. I'm not entirely sure what I'm saying here, except that I empathise with the politically committed of either colour in the United States. That's not to say I endorse views: I just remember how I felt reading news and ending up as my own spin doctor.
And, as a kind of companion piece to the above, I bring you the inevitable "it's a fake" page. And you know, they could be right.
Saturday, October 30, 2004
Uh?
Japanese business man spend valuable time: "I never say that all foreign people is lazy. But I never hesitate to say that Jap is fucking hard worker."
Right! That's great!
Right! That's great!
It's only 8 o'clock but you're already bored...
The strangest selection of songs inhabits my head. Who the hell needs an iPod when you’ve got an internal jukebox like that? Well, if you’re offering, I suppose I wouldn’t say no. The oddest thing is that certain songs recur at the same point in the daily routine.
In order to get to work in the morning I have to cross what was once described in a recent letter to the Huddersfield Daily Examiner as ‘a soulless civic desert’. That particular correspondent was not wrong, you know; quite the opposite. And as the early morning bluster disrupts my perfectly coiffed hair (!) the same snippet of the same song bounces through my head without fail:
Now, I'm not about to get all down with the kids and claim urban cred. I lived in a semi-detached house on a nice enough corner of a Lincolnshire town. But the song said something. I think it was the ridiculous overstating of the 50p line that had the most impact on me. When you were living such a shite, uneventful life that finding 50p felt like it needed block harmonies to underline its earth-shattering importance to you, well, yeah: the bleakness was all there.
There was something about the playfulness of The Rats that just worked too. Johnny Fingers' pajamas, that Travolta/Newton-John thing on TOTP (along with playing a candlestick) and the generally anti-bullshit air that they gave off set off resonant frequencies in me that probably account for the song still residing in my head when so many others have gone.
I fired up Rat Trap on iTunes a few minutes ago and y'know, it still doesn't suck. It has a Dun Laoghaire Springsteen feel to it that doesn't tie it too tightly to the time it was recorded in. The true triumph of the song is that it manages to be both utterly mundane and impossibly epic at the same time. Masterful. And if I hadn't have gone to work this week, it'd have stayed forgotten.
In order to get to work in the morning I have to cross what was once described in a recent letter to the Huddersfield Daily Examiner as ‘a soulless civic desert’. That particular correspondent was not wrong, you know; quite the opposite. And as the early morning bluster disrupts my perfectly coiffed hair (!) the same snippet of the same song bounces through my head without fail:
"Little Judy's trying to watch Top of the PopsYes, pop pickers; it’s Rat Trap by The Boomtown Rats. Personally I think it’s one of the most underrated songs of the late ‘70s. I seem to remember it spoke to me at the time.
But mum and dad are fighting don't they ever stop,
She takes off her coat and walks down to the street
It's cold on that road, but it's got that home beat
Deep down in her pockets she finds 50p...”
Now, I'm not about to get all down with the kids and claim urban cred. I lived in a semi-detached house on a nice enough corner of a Lincolnshire town. But the song said something. I think it was the ridiculous overstating of the 50p line that had the most impact on me. When you were living such a shite, uneventful life that finding 50p felt like it needed block harmonies to underline its earth-shattering importance to you, well, yeah: the bleakness was all there.
There was something about the playfulness of The Rats that just worked too. Johnny Fingers' pajamas, that Travolta/Newton-John thing on TOTP (along with playing a candlestick) and the generally anti-bullshit air that they gave off set off resonant frequencies in me that probably account for the song still residing in my head when so many others have gone.
I fired up Rat Trap on iTunes a few minutes ago and y'know, it still doesn't suck. It has a Dun Laoghaire Springsteen feel to it that doesn't tie it too tightly to the time it was recorded in. The true triumph of the song is that it manages to be both utterly mundane and impossibly epic at the same time. Masterful. And if I hadn't have gone to work this week, it'd have stayed forgotten.
Oh, the pain of the missed opportunity.
Votergasm didn't exist when I cast my first General Election vote in 1983. Kids these days! Hmph.
Not safe for work, unless your work involves giving sexual favours to voters: then it's just research, I suppose.
And, if you ask me, policemen look younger too.
Not safe for work, unless your work involves giving sexual favours to voters: then it's just research, I suppose.
And, if you ask me, policemen look younger too.
I missed this. Bugger.
Guardian Unlimited: "Britain's geologists are about to celebrate the fact that the universe is exactly 6,000 years old."
But then, in reading this to the end, I found out that they did too. That makes me feel a tad better.
But then, in reading this to the end, I found out that they did too. That makes me feel a tad better.
Battle of the Bulge, 2004
Salon.com News | NASA photo analyst: Bush wore a device during debate: "Physicist says imaging techniques prove the president's bulge was not caused by wrinkled clothing."
The Visual Thesaurus
"The Visual Thesaurus takes a unique, and remarkably beautiful, approach to presenting the results of a word lookup. Discover and learn from nearly 140,000 words, meanings and relationships. " Woah. Now this is the way forward. A java app that shows off the links between words visually with grace and clarity. Mind you, if I stumped up for the full version, would I ever get any work done again? Ever?
Penis shaped chicken nugget, IT DOESNT GET ANY BETTER
eBay item 5516776823 (End[ed] Sep-03-04 01:02:58 PDT) I don't know what's got into me on t'interweb. Last night I put two bids in for the penis-shaped potato plugged on the b3ta newsletter. I just seem to be hitting new heights of puerility. I pointed the penis-shaped chicken nugget out to t'wife who barely without pause replied;
Apropos of this, my wappy psycho headcase of a little sister used to work in a chicken factory in Grantham in her late teens. I could never work out what made that job better than the dole. Everybody was on temp contracts and terminated just before they got employment rights, tendonitis was an occupational hazard and it stank. Anyway, apparently there was someone who worked there in the mid-80s who when they weren't gobbing in the bins of cooked chicken used to make "suggestive" chicken shapes to put through the breading machine. It got a bit more serious when the same person started "sabotaging" the nuggets with all sorts of foreign objects. Given how people were treated there, it hardly surprises me. No doubt when we get a change of government because the British people fancy being treated like underlings again we'll have that wonderful employment climate reintroduced.
I have NEVER eaten chicken nuggets in my life. I was vegetarian when she worked there and (although I eat meat now) the stories haunt me to this day.
"I prefer a penis-shaped penis."That's the kind of directness I like. I always was a bit thick with nuances.
Apropos of this, my wappy psycho headcase of a little sister used to work in a chicken factory in Grantham in her late teens. I could never work out what made that job better than the dole. Everybody was on temp contracts and terminated just before they got employment rights, tendonitis was an occupational hazard and it stank. Anyway, apparently there was someone who worked there in the mid-80s who when they weren't gobbing in the bins of cooked chicken used to make "suggestive" chicken shapes to put through the breading machine. It got a bit more serious when the same person started "sabotaging" the nuggets with all sorts of foreign objects. Given how people were treated there, it hardly surprises me. No doubt when we get a change of government because the British people fancy being treated like underlings again we'll have that wonderful employment climate reintroduced.
I have NEVER eaten chicken nuggets in my life. I was vegetarian when she worked there and (although I eat meat now) the stories haunt me to this day.
Friday, October 29, 2004
The Word of the Lord must be legislated as Oregon public policy....
Measure 36 - Arguments in Favor: For the completely uninitiated: Oregon has a fairly low percentage of signatures needed to put a referendum on a ballot paper. The minority of militant "Christian" "Right" loopers can therefore mobilise their churches to get stuff like Measure 36 on the ballot. Measure 36 reads as follows:
What a guy.
Oh, and make sure you catch the one near the end. Cracking.
AMENDS CONSTITUTION: ONLY MARRIAGE BETWEEN ONE MAN AND ONE WOMAN IS VALID OR LEGALLY RECOGNIZED AS MARRIAGEDennis Moore is not only named after a Monty Python character, he is bordering on genius. He writes arguments for stuff. I thought his work in the Oregon 2000 Votors' Pamphlet was good. This, on the other hand, is fantastic. He takes lunatic fringe bullshit like Measure 36 and argues in favour - with hilarious results. Read his work and laugh like a drain. And if Dennis Moore offends you - well, I wouldn't read your blog either.
What a guy.
Oh, and make sure you catch the one near the end. Cracking.
I had an idea. Gosh.
I had one of those odd little ideas today. I was wondering whether the celebrity reality game show had run its tawdry little course when something popped quite unbidden into my skull. How does Celebrity Bailiff sound?
The format of CB is quite simple. Assign a pack of E-list celebs to the recovery department of a large Metropolitan Local Authority - and no, I don't particularly have any in mind - and follow them from door-to-door collecting past-due Council Tax and Business Rates. The least successful CB gets booted off, with big prizes for the winner's nominated charidee and a guaranteed shot in the arm for the winner's fame rating (possible elevation to C-list, but nobody should mention Mark Owen at this point).
Ooh, this is a cracker. It satisfies the prurient urge to see other people and their tawdry little lives, gives people the chance to have their 15 minutes of fame and satisfies our insatiable need to see people more famous than ourselves. Imagine Limahl from Kajagoogoo turning up in a sink estate in, say, Wakefield asking for payments on defaulted council tax.
The format of CB is quite simple. Assign a pack of E-list celebs to the recovery department of a large Metropolitan Local Authority - and no, I don't particularly have any in mind - and follow them from door-to-door collecting past-due Council Tax and Business Rates. The least successful CB gets booted off, with big prizes for the winner's nominated charidee and a guaranteed shot in the arm for the winner's fame rating (possible elevation to C-list, but nobody should mention Mark Owen at this point).
Ooh, this is a cracker. It satisfies the prurient urge to see other people and their tawdry little lives, gives people the chance to have their 15 minutes of fame and satisfies our insatiable need to see people more famous than ourselves. Imagine Limahl from Kajagoogoo turning up in a sink estate in, say, Wakefield asking for payments on defaulted council tax.
"...And after the break, Vanessa Feltz gets, well, a bit of a shock in Lupset! Don't go away!"Actually, start auctioning off the goods and there's even a bit of Bargain Hunt in there. I reckon it's a winner. Any celeb suggestions for CB1?
Thursday, October 28, 2004
The Ten Worst. Cover. Songs. Ever.
The Observer Music Monthly had a stab at a list of the worst covers ever conceived.
Not bad, but they missed this beauty.
Not bad, but they missed this beauty.
LittleGrayGuy
Welcome to LittleGrayGuy.com!
Er... Thanks. Naked ladies posing with a cat. What an interesting niche market.
Not safe for work, unless your work involves that particular combination: then it's just research, I suppose.
Er... Thanks. Naked ladies posing with a cat. What an interesting niche market.
Not safe for work, unless your work involves that particular combination: then it's just research, I suppose.
Wednesday, October 27, 2004
At last; a useful foreign language resource.
Swearsaurus: "Swearsaurus is the world's largest resource of multilingual swearing. It will teach you a vast array of swearing, profanity, obscenity, blasphemy, cursing, cussing, and insulting in a massive 165 languages - because it's good to experience cultural diversity!"
Roger Mellie: this is for you.
Roger Mellie: this is for you.
Terminal Ennui
Left-behind thoughts
From a left-behind world
Submerged all day
Surface gasping as time stops.
One flight in the past;
One hop to the future.
And here I sit.
Reading the same words
Over and over and
over again
Passes time.
But this is no pastime.
"No news is good news", they say.
Mind you, no news
is no news
In a place like this.
Caught in time's amber,
Numbers lengthen.
Distances yawn.
Now I understand
Why they call
these places
Terminal.
April 2000, Houston, TX
accidental poetry - the writings of abel tasan
From a left-behind world
Submerged all day
Surface gasping as time stops.
One flight in the past;
One hop to the future.
And here I sit.
Reading the same words
Over and over and
over again
Passes time.
But this is no pastime.
"No news is good news", they say.
Mind you, no news
is no news
In a place like this.
Caught in time's amber,
Numbers lengthen.
Distances yawn.
Now I understand
Why they call
these places
Terminal.
April 2000, Houston, TX
accidental poetry - the writings of abel tasan
Tuesday, October 26, 2004
John Robert Parker Ravenscroft has died.
"...he was more like a favourite uncle than a rock fan": The stalwart BBC DJ of my mid-to-late teens, John Peel died suddenly today. Actually, to describe him as a DJ kind of misses the point: he helped form the musical tastes of successive generations like no other figure I've come across in the English-speaking world. God knows he influenced mine. I must have purchased more music because it was introduced to me by John Peel than for any other reason.
OK. He championed punk, gave UK breaks to Nirvana and The White Stripes and gave the first radio plays to Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. That last one, I feel, was a seal of approval...
I can't believe this. I don't want to have to. I've just got home from work and I'm crying. Time to put Teenage Kicks on.
John Peel's influence in brief.
OK. He championed punk, gave UK breaks to Nirvana and The White Stripes and gave the first radio plays to Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. That last one, I feel, was a seal of approval...
I can't believe this. I don't want to have to. I've just got home from work and I'm crying. Time to put Teenage Kicks on.
John Peel's influence in brief.
I'd like to officially declare...
..December to be
National Haiku Writing Month!
(or NaHaWriMo for short)
Can you write a 17-syllable poem that doesn't rhyme between the 1st and 31st December?
Have a bash! You should aim to complete a syllable every 1.8235294 days.
Get your first line completed by the 9th and you're on track.
After that it's the long slog to the 21st and the completion of the second line.
Get that done and it's downhill all the way.
Good luck! Your haiku,
shown off in January,
Should outclass this one.
National Haiku Writing Month!
(or NaHaWriMo for short)
Can you write a 17-syllable poem that doesn't rhyme between the 1st and 31st December?
Have a bash! You should aim to complete a syllable every 1.8235294 days.
Get your first line completed by the 9th and you're on track.
After that it's the long slog to the 21st and the completion of the second line.
Get that done and it's downhill all the way.
Good luck! Your haiku,
shown off in January,
Should outclass this one.
|Guardian Unlimited US elections 2004
Reaction from the US to the Guardian's Clark County project: "Real Americans aren't interested in your pansy-ass, tea-sipping opinions. If you want to save the world, begin with your own worthless corner of it. "
I offer this with very little comment, but a lot of empathy for anybody trying to form an opinion with well-meaning people interrupting you with advice every five minutes.
My favourite letter? The one that describes the Guardian as a "beacon of hope." That person may well have to have their tongue surgically removed from their cheek.
I offer this with very little comment, but a lot of empathy for anybody trying to form an opinion with well-meaning people interrupting you with advice every five minutes.
My favourite letter? The one that describes the Guardian as a "beacon of hope." That person may well have to have their tongue surgically removed from their cheek.
Monday, October 25, 2004
TSAIEWDNBIFSWHTUTAAWTTTSTCOTFW
"Bush: 'We actually misnamed the war on terror; it ought to be the struggle against ideological extremists who do not believe in free societies, who happen to use terror as a weapon to try to shake the conscience of the free world.' "
Snappy! I always thought the original acronym had more going for it. Shows what I know, eh?
Snappy! I always thought the original acronym had more going for it. Shows what I know, eh?
A rather forthright opinion
Abolish work: "Work is the source of nearly all the misery in the world. Almost all evil you'd care to name comes from working or from living in a world designed for work. In order to stop suffering, we have to stop working."
It must be Monday if I'm attracted to links like that.
It must be Monday if I'm attracted to links like that.
Instant Enlightenment
Haiku-o-Matic
"am so bored at work
have just shot my boss in head
and now have the sack "
Now that speaks to me.
Such a revelation will probably have at least one person looking at me very oddly tomorrow morning at work. I always feel a bit nervous when I tell someone the URL of my web presence. Oddly, I think I'd feel safer having them rifle through my sock drawer.
"am so bored at work
have just shot my boss in head
and now have the sack "
Now that speaks to me.
Such a revelation will probably have at least one person looking at me very oddly tomorrow morning at work. I always feel a bit nervous when I tell someone the URL of my web presence. Oddly, I think I'd feel safer having them rifle through my sock drawer.
Why Should You Bookmark This Blog?
"You should bookmark this blog if...: "
You are a lesbian
You are straight and want to read lesbian fiction in a nonsicko kind of way
You want to see if I can accomplish 50000 words in 30 days
You are really board and all you do is surf the internet at work
You have loved someone that didn't love you back
You have loved someone that was completely unhealthy for you
You dream about hedge hogs and losing your teeth
Oh wait, that last one is me"
All righty, then. I might just do that.
This year, NaNoWriMo could be one of the greatest spectator sports known to mankind.
Sunday, October 24, 2004
Don't click the link, whatever you do.
Please, for the love of all that is decent and truthful, don't.
The Brits Go Overboard
BlueOregon: The Brits Go Overboard: "I apologize in advance for the non-Oregon nature of this post, but I just had to publish this where I knew people would read it and question the inherent stupidity...."
Yes: it's somebody ELSE getting hot under the collar at Charlie Booker's Screen Burn column in yesterday's Guardian; and this on a progressive Oregonian's website. Having lived in the Willamette Valley and knowing what progressive Oregon normally sounds like, you've no idea how much this disappoints me.
On the other hand, what is getting pantwettingly funny about this furore is that it's over a column in the TV GUIDE.
Honestly, you couldn't make it up.
Yes: it's somebody ELSE getting hot under the collar at Charlie Booker's Screen Burn column in yesterday's Guardian; and this on a progressive Oregonian's website. Having lived in the Willamette Valley and knowing what progressive Oregon normally sounds like, you've no idea how much this disappoints me.
On the other hand, what is getting pantwettingly funny about this furore is that it's over a column in the TV GUIDE.
Honestly, you couldn't make it up.
Download this...
Blondie meet The Doors in Go Home Productions' classic Rapture Riders.
Recipe for a successful Sunday:
Recipe for a successful Sunday:
- kick spouse and kids out of house
- draw the curtains
- play this LOUD
- dance like the 40-year-old saddos we know we are. Clothing entirely optional.
Enjoy The Draft
"'Post Traumatic Stress Disorder excuses a lot of crazy-ass batshit behavior.'
-Matt in Columbus"
Expect more guffaw-inducing black humour at this site that barely hides its righteous indignation.
You know, I don't care what was said in the presidential debates: the numbers don't stack any more. I reckon the draft is coming back.
-Matt in Columbus"
Expect more guffaw-inducing black humour at this site that barely hides its righteous indignation.
You know, I don't care what was said in the presidential debates: the numbers don't stack any more. I reckon the draft is coming back.
National Novel Writing Month
Do I do this or am I too scared of failing?
1,700 words a day? It's not impossible.
1,700 words a day? It's not impossible.
anti-telemarketing EGBG counterscript
Just the other day, a friend of mine was rung at home and was informed that he's been selected in a draw for the prize of so many hundreds of pounds of free home improvements (mainly based around windows). He reacted very oddly: he expressed joy; told the telemarketer that "nothing like this has ever happened to me before" and said that he must go and tell his next-door neighbour.
He put the handset down and went off to do something else for a few minutes. Ten minutes later, the telemarketer was still on the line. It took her a further ten minutes to realise that this was a windup.
Whilst not quite in the same genre of humour, this script is perhaps worth trying out once or twice.
He put the handset down and went off to do something else for a few minutes. Ten minutes later, the telemarketer was still on the line. It took her a further ten minutes to realise that this was a windup.
Whilst not quite in the same genre of humour, this script is perhaps worth trying out once or twice.
Current Electoral Vote Predictor 2004
I can never decide whether I love elections because of the ideas being bandied about or because I'm a stats geek.
This page is targeted at my left brain, I feel.
This page is targeted at my left brain, I feel.
Yé-Yé Girls
If you really want to make people's eyes glaze over, mention you're into French pop. Once you get Air and Daft Punk out the way, you're seemingly left with not a lot; apart from that eternal oddball Johnny Halliday.
But what about that old rogue/inspired genius Serge Gainsbourg? And what about the girl singer scene of the '60s?
"Imagine the French, inspired by the sounds coming out of the US and UK, taking ideas from the great girl-groups, the beat-groups and combining it with the best of the French chanteuse traditions... The result became known as the yé-yé sound; classic pop songs with a French twist."
Some yé-yé stuff is impossibly cheesy, and some of it charming in the extreme: this website tries to make sense of the scene for an english-speaking sensibility with a high degree of success. Have a read and go looking for some of the music. There are gems out there.
All together now: "Je suis une poupée de cire/une poupée de son..."
But what about that old rogue/inspired genius Serge Gainsbourg? And what about the girl singer scene of the '60s?
"Imagine the French, inspired by the sounds coming out of the US and UK, taking ideas from the great girl-groups, the beat-groups and combining it with the best of the French chanteuse traditions... The result became known as the yé-yé sound; classic pop songs with a French twist."
Some yé-yé stuff is impossibly cheesy, and some of it charming in the extreme: this website tries to make sense of the scene for an english-speaking sensibility with a high degree of success. Have a read and go looking for some of the music. There are gems out there.
All together now: "Je suis une poupée de cire/une poupée de son..."
Saturday, October 23, 2004
Thursday, October 21, 2004
Find Your Voice
Phil Agre: quite the writer. Once in charge of the Red Rock Eater email list (which I loved), he has some great ideas on all sorts of subjects. This is a great piece of writing. I hope someone finds it useful.
Tuesday, October 19, 2004
luvly: Why do people give up weblogs?
"A few weeks ago, I asked subscribers to the [gorjuss] list if any of them had abandoned a weblog, and if they'd like to talk to me about their reasons for doing so."
There's some interesting stuff here, and some of it chimed with me. I used to have a fairly authoritative site (for a layman) on a pretty esoteric health subject. It all became too much work in the end. In fact, it all felt a bit ugly. So I dropped it. Can't say I miss it, to be honest - yet the fucker used to run my life. Odd, that. Anyway: have a read.
There's some interesting stuff here, and some of it chimed with me. I used to have a fairly authoritative site (for a layman) on a pretty esoteric health subject. It all became too much work in the end. In fact, it all felt a bit ugly. So I dropped it. Can't say I miss it, to be honest - yet the fucker used to run my life. Odd, that. Anyway: have a read.
Monday, October 18, 2004
Monster Blog: Civil Liberties: Bush Version 1.00
"President Bush taught 3 Oregon schoolteachers a new lesson in irony – or tragedy – Thursday night when his campaign removed them from a Bush speech and threatened them with arrest simply for wearing t-shirts that said “Protect Our Civil Liberties.”"
You go, girls. Oregon: truly the most gloriously awkward of the states. As much a home for me as Britain.
You go, girls. Oregon: truly the most gloriously awkward of the states. As much a home for me as Britain.
Coffee Enema (INeedCoffee.com)
"The use of coffee in enemas for detoxification purposes is well known."
Except by me. Eep.
Except by me. Eep.
Guardian Unlimited | Arts news | Marc Almond critically injured in crash
Soft Cell was my first great love as a band. I'd got into punk, but I kind of flitted, and was too young to really make sense of some of the themes in the music. During that period, I also developed a taste for The Beatles, trudging through a 60's housing estate on the edge of Grantham every morning delivering papers in near-permanent drizzle so I could build up their back-catalogue on vinyl. I remember listening to Revolver all the way through for the first time in hushed silence after having rushed it home from Woolworths that morning and sitting in awe as it all slotted together in my head.
But Soft Cell was the point where independence, youthful hedonism and disposable income all collided giddily. Few songs have affected me on a first hearing quite like hearing Tainted Love for the first time. No. It wasn't the "ka-dink-dink" at the beginning. It was Marc Almond's voice. He sang sharp on the second note of the song: this blew me away. Let me explain.
I did a bit of singing when I was younger and I still sing now. When I was given tuition I was always told to try and sing sharp: that way you can hit the note from the top and hit it bang on. The reason for this advice is partly because it's actually very difficult to sing sharp deliberately. And here was a singer - on a record, not by accident - doing exactly that. It lends an urgent, almost deranged air to the song: perfect for the lyrical content. It drew me in; and I never escaped. I found Marc Almond and David Ball to be not just masterful reworkers of soul songs, but songwriters with impish wit, grand passion, sumptious depth and touching, tragic empathy.
Soft Cell provided the soundtrack for my transition to manhood. Some of my contemporaries back in Lincolnshire will smirk at that. The image of me walking about in eyeliner, clad all in black, does not immediately suggest manhood. But that's manhood's problem, not mine. Marc Almond's example taught me that there's more than one way to be a man, that identities are more fluid than tradition gives the lie to. I loved the idea of being heterosexual whilst still blurring boundaries, playing with androgyny.
I found out that girls like friends they can share makeup with. And somewhere in all that I found me.
That's why this news upset me so much and has continued to since. In some ways, he felt like a role model; the big brother I wish I'd had - as wilfully, stubbornly individual as my middle sister, but male like me. I hope he gets through this. He sang the soundtrack to my growing up. I'd like him to add some more to it.
I met Marc fleetingly on a couple of occasions. A really nice guy. I didn't expect him to be, to be honest: but I was utterly surprised. And my best memories of Marc are on stage. That's where he always came alive; and not just with the music. The repartee, the banter...
Then there was the time me and Big Louise from Wavertree sang the backing vocals to Empty Eyes from our seats at a Marc and the Mambas gig in 1983. The look of stunned surprise followed by indulgent pleasure on Marc's face is probably my favourite moment at any gig ever; but I will have to elaborate on that another time.
In the meantime; get well, big brother.
But Soft Cell was the point where independence, youthful hedonism and disposable income all collided giddily. Few songs have affected me on a first hearing quite like hearing Tainted Love for the first time. No. It wasn't the "ka-dink-dink" at the beginning. It was Marc Almond's voice. He sang sharp on the second note of the song: this blew me away. Let me explain.
I did a bit of singing when I was younger and I still sing now. When I was given tuition I was always told to try and sing sharp: that way you can hit the note from the top and hit it bang on. The reason for this advice is partly because it's actually very difficult to sing sharp deliberately. And here was a singer - on a record, not by accident - doing exactly that. It lends an urgent, almost deranged air to the song: perfect for the lyrical content. It drew me in; and I never escaped. I found Marc Almond and David Ball to be not just masterful reworkers of soul songs, but songwriters with impish wit, grand passion, sumptious depth and touching, tragic empathy.
Soft Cell provided the soundtrack for my transition to manhood. Some of my contemporaries back in Lincolnshire will smirk at that. The image of me walking about in eyeliner, clad all in black, does not immediately suggest manhood. But that's manhood's problem, not mine. Marc Almond's example taught me that there's more than one way to be a man, that identities are more fluid than tradition gives the lie to. I loved the idea of being heterosexual whilst still blurring boundaries, playing with androgyny.
I found out that girls like friends they can share makeup with. And somewhere in all that I found me.
That's why this news upset me so much and has continued to since. In some ways, he felt like a role model; the big brother I wish I'd had - as wilfully, stubbornly individual as my middle sister, but male like me. I hope he gets through this. He sang the soundtrack to my growing up. I'd like him to add some more to it.
I met Marc fleetingly on a couple of occasions. A really nice guy. I didn't expect him to be, to be honest: but I was utterly surprised. And my best memories of Marc are on stage. That's where he always came alive; and not just with the music. The repartee, the banter...
Then there was the time me and Big Louise from Wavertree sang the backing vocals to Empty Eyes from our seats at a Marc and the Mambas gig in 1983. The look of stunned surprise followed by indulgent pleasure on Marc's face is probably my favourite moment at any gig ever; but I will have to elaborate on that another time.
In the meantime; get well, big brother.
Back at work
Today, it's back to the grind; I've just come back from 9 days doing naff all on the Costa del Huddersfield. It's been great. I look back at the last 9 days and I honestly can't work out what the heck I did with them. Still, they're gone now. And do I feel refreshed? No, is the short answer. It's all down to last night.
I didn't sleep at all. Do you know, there's something about this job that's bothering me below the surface and I can't put my finger on it. I know that feeling. It's the same feeling I used to get when I lived in the US and my immigration status was in doubt. It also kind of bothered me going back to work today and I wish I could articulate why. Now I'm here, it's taking a while to get into the swing of things; remembering how the heck I do my job is proving to be more problematic than I thought. It's certainly going slowly. At the time of writing, I've been here 2hrs and 10 mins and I could quite happily swear it seemed double that.
------------
I get the oddest feeling something very strange is happening. Now, I'm not the type of person to be aggressive to people: I despise aggressiveness in other people. But, for some reason, wherever I go, I seem to walk into a firestorm of aggression. My present workplace is no exception. I don't know how I make people uncomfortable enough to react that way, but I do. To me, people act as though they spot a vulnerability in me, yet (when I talk about it) people say I come across as a very strong character; that they don't see that vulnerability. Am I threatening people unwittingly? Or do I just overestimate the maturity levels that people bring to the workplace?
I tell you: if I weighed 40 lbs more, I'd bet you I wouldn't be having these thoughts. I really believe that sincerely: that we STILL, as adults, base too many of our choices on the playground measure of "can they hurt me?" In other words, our natural impulse is not to respect others but to do the maximum we can get away with in a situation. What really hacks me off is that I'm still puzzling this out at the age of 40, when people far younger than me have got past the stage of caring about such fripperies.
I didn't sleep at all. Do you know, there's something about this job that's bothering me below the surface and I can't put my finger on it. I know that feeling. It's the same feeling I used to get when I lived in the US and my immigration status was in doubt. It also kind of bothered me going back to work today and I wish I could articulate why. Now I'm here, it's taking a while to get into the swing of things; remembering how the heck I do my job is proving to be more problematic than I thought. It's certainly going slowly. At the time of writing, I've been here 2hrs and 10 mins and I could quite happily swear it seemed double that.
------------
I get the oddest feeling something very strange is happening. Now, I'm not the type of person to be aggressive to people: I despise aggressiveness in other people. But, for some reason, wherever I go, I seem to walk into a firestorm of aggression. My present workplace is no exception. I don't know how I make people uncomfortable enough to react that way, but I do. To me, people act as though they spot a vulnerability in me, yet (when I talk about it) people say I come across as a very strong character; that they don't see that vulnerability. Am I threatening people unwittingly? Or do I just overestimate the maturity levels that people bring to the workplace?
I tell you: if I weighed 40 lbs more, I'd bet you I wouldn't be having these thoughts. I really believe that sincerely: that we STILL, as adults, base too many of our choices on the playground measure of "can they hurt me?" In other words, our natural impulse is not to respect others but to do the maximum we can get away with in a situation. What really hacks me off is that I'm still puzzling this out at the age of 40, when people far younger than me have got past the stage of caring about such fripperies.
Sunday, October 17, 2004
Northwest Indiana News: nwitimes.com - News: World's first elephant treadmill being built in Alaska: "Aboveground feeding stations will be built so that Maggie will have to stretch for her food. 'She won't get any food she doesn't work for,' Edwards said."
Amazing. Workfare's gone mental.
Amazing. Workfare's gone mental.
The UK Independence Party
Apparently this little act of URL-snaffling has enraged those tossers at UKIP so much they're making vague threats. And I mean vague - catch the "non-specific" nature of the following...
Tony Bennett, who (when he isn't singing) is Research Assistant to Robert Kilroy-Silk writes:
"I represent Mr Kilroy-Silk and the U.K. Independence Party. You are advised that your site will be reported to the Police and we are currently taking the advice of a libel barrister as to its contents."
The Police? Really? I wonder what Andy Summers would say?
Then he adds:
"I am a Solicitor as well as a research assistant."
I feel it is impossible to say that sentence out loud and keep a straight face. As a final flourish he says:
"You may wish to consider removing the site forthwith."
The content? It's an excerpt from Chris Morris's Jam series with a URL like theirs. Jeeze, UKIP: fucking grow up: and get some proper policies while you're at it.
(Respect to Rob Manuel at b3ta.com for giving a much wider audience to this pathetic attempt at bullying.)
Tony Bennett, who (when he isn't singing) is Research Assistant to Robert Kilroy-Silk writes:
"I represent Mr Kilroy-Silk and the U.K. Independence Party. You are advised that your site will be reported to the Police and we are currently taking the advice of a libel barrister as to its contents."
The Police? Really? I wonder what Andy Summers would say?
Then he adds:
"I am a Solicitor as well as a research assistant."
I feel it is impossible to say that sentence out loud and keep a straight face. As a final flourish he says:
"You may wish to consider removing the site forthwith."
The content? It's an excerpt from Chris Morris's Jam series with a URL like theirs. Jeeze, UKIP: fucking grow up: and get some proper policies while you're at it.
(Respect to Rob Manuel at b3ta.com for giving a much wider audience to this pathetic attempt at bullying.)
TV Themeworld.co.uk - Only The Best MP3 Themes: "I have been hunting about the web for around two years now, and I am disappointed at the lack of quality TV ThemeTune sites. So I decided to make my own."
And, do you know, he didn't do a bad job of it. G'wan. You know you want to go there.
And, do you know, he didn't do a bad job of it. G'wan. You know you want to go there.
M O O N S H O T - The Beer with Caffeine!: "MoonShot is the first beer with Caffeine. Our patented process makes it possible for us to add caffeine without compromising the superior taste and smoothness of our premium beer."
Much like tickling yourself with a feather whilst hitting yourself on the head with a brick, then.
Much like tickling yourself with a feather whilst hitting yourself on the head with a brick, then.
Ugly Dress.com - Bridesmaid Dresses From Hell: "Contained within are photographic proof of some of the dresses that our friends, the brides, have made us wear so that they could look good.
At first, this site started from my own personal experiences but now ugly dresses for bridesmaids, weddings, and proms have come from all over. This site has truly become the ugly dress archive."
Excruciatingly brilliant, with a capital CROO.
At first, this site started from my own personal experiences but now ugly dresses for bridesmaids, weddings, and proms have come from all over. This site has truly become the ugly dress archive."
Excruciatingly brilliant, with a capital CROO.
Wired News: Jacket Grows From Living Tissue: "Fancy a partially alive jacket, possibly grown out of your own skin? In reality, it may not be that far away." Lovely.
RollingStone.com: Politics - Bush Like Me: "Republicans are paranoid enough to expect a mole from the Kerry campaign, but I was far worse than that -- a dissolute, drug-abusing anarchist who reads the battle diaries of Vietnamese generals on rainy days, roots for Russia at the Olympics and once published an article titled 'God Can Suck My Dick.' I was, in short, the most offensive individual who could conceivably be planted in the campaign of George W. Bush."
A lovely piece of gonzo journalism: quite fantastic.
A lovely piece of gonzo journalism: quite fantastic.
Richard Kennaway's Constructed Languages List: "Constructed languages are languages which are intended to be spoken by people, to people (as distinct from, say, programming languages), and which have been deliberately constructed rather than having evolved. There is a vast number of these, most of which are never used by anyone but their inventor. Only a handful have ever had a significant circulation, but with the advent of the World Wide Web, it now becomes possible to make one's ideas available to all at little cost."
My: there's some funny people about.
My: there's some funny people about.
Investigation into Trashed Voter Registrations: "An employee of a private voter registration firm alleges that his bosses trashed registration forms filled out by Democratic voters because they only wanted to sign up Republican voters."
I noted this before. Dunno whether it'll come to anything, though. Like so much about the United States of America, you can get away with anything if you shroud it in enough detail.
I noted this before. Dunno whether it'll come to anything, though. Like so much about the United States of America, you can get away with anything if you shroud it in enough detail.
Saturday, October 16, 2004
Powered by sunlight
I cannot decide. Is this a case of "everybody hates a smartarse" or is it the beginning of the future.
Bah. Whatever: Match of the Day is on.
I cannot decide. Is this a case of "everybody hates a smartarse" or is it the beginning of the future.
Bah. Whatever: Match of the Day is on.
Whudat.com presents the real names of hip hop and r&b artists. Somehow fiddy cent don't sound so scary when you find his real name is Ricky Jones. Ricky. Huh.
3D Showcase: Stereoscopic Art and 3d Photography by Boris Starosta
Some great images here. It is, however, a little difficult to explain why one is sitting in front of a screen with your eyes crossed looking at two seemingly identical pictures of a naked lady.
Some great images here. It is, however, a little difficult to explain why one is sitting in front of a screen with your eyes crossed looking at two seemingly identical pictures of a naked lady.
Friday, October 15, 2004
Gregg and Evan Spiridellis are back - Jibjab productions, who brought you the beautifully worked "This Land" now bring you a sequel. It's not quite as strong as the original but it's clever, silly and comes with a simple message: VOTE. If you don't someone'll win anyway, so go on: have a laugh. Punch those chads out.
Laydeez and gennelmen, I present Good To Be In D.C.
Laydeez and gennelmen, I present Good To Be In D.C.
The (In)Security Camera is a robotic surveillance camera with advanced computer-vision software that can track, zoom, and follow subjects walking through its field of view. Deploying sophisticated artificial intelligence algorithms in use today by the U.S. military and Homeland Security forces, it can assess threat levels in real time and respond accordingly.
However, the camera is, in fact, a little insecure. Easily startled by sudden movements, it is shy around strangers and tends to avoid direct eye contact. This reversal of the relationship between the surveillance system and its subjects gives the machine an element of human personality and fallibility that is by turns endearing, tragic, and slightly disturbing.
However, the camera is, in fact, a little insecure. Easily startled by sudden movements, it is shy around strangers and tends to avoid direct eye contact. This reversal of the relationship between the surveillance system and its subjects gives the machine an element of human personality and fallibility that is by turns endearing, tragic, and slightly disturbing.
Cripes. Ten years ago, GWB could string a sentence together. Whilst I didn't agree with his solutions for Texas, they were confidently and forcefully debated. Now, he's a fumbling cretin. Was that too harsh? I think not.
Watch this. It's a provocative video that contrasts the 1994 GWB with the 2004 Dubya. I'm not sure I agree with the conclusion - pain control issues can lead to the same cognitive problems, as I know only too well. The fact remains that the President missed his physical this year.
Are his advisors running the show? What's his hump telling him today?
Watch this. It's a provocative video that contrasts the 1994 GWB with the 2004 Dubya. I'm not sure I agree with the conclusion - pain control issues can lead to the same cognitive problems, as I know only too well. The fact remains that the President missed his physical this year.
Are his advisors running the show? What's his hump telling him today?
OregonLive.com: NewsFlash - Bradbury plans to investigate election complaint
Bent fuckers. Go get 'em Bill.
Bent fuckers. Go get 'em Bill.
Thursday, October 14, 2004
Wednesday, October 13, 2004
Bambivara
Oooh, political.
It is worth noting that the original photograph of Guevara was taken during a memorial ceremony for lives lost while the US meddled in another country's business. So: no parallel there, then.
Click for post-ironic 1024x768 wallpaper.
Tuesday, October 12, 2004
Saturday, October 09, 2004
Sunday, October 03, 2004
She's gonna blow!
They evacuated this point a few hours ago, so this is the closest you'll
get.
Enjoy. Bear in mind that the bloke standing at that spot when it blew in 1980 pretty much evaporated.
And, in the meantime here's an account of the effects of ash fall. Wow.
get.
Enjoy. Bear in mind that the bloke standing at that spot when it blew in 1980 pretty much evaporated.
And, in the meantime here's an account of the effects of ash fall. Wow.
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