I'm back at uni right now, just for a bit. No classes of course, just the sandstone and the rain.
I love this place, but I can only assume that in feeling this way I'm suffering from some kind of Stockholm Syndrome. It hasn't been an easy five years, but I can't say I'd rather have spent them anywhere else. My captor has soothed me with old paper and stone, offered me thoughts to sate my curiosities, and tied me up with 5 years of debt that would be useless if I left now.
Sometimes I wish I was potential Ph.D. material. Sometimes... when everything else in life seems even more torturous and less well-defined.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
denied
"We're not letting you in. For now." --Facebook
Odd. And possibly not the greatest website error message from a PR viewpoint.
Odd. And possibly not the greatest website error message from a PR viewpoint.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
bogart
Too long, world.
At this very moment I'm watching a black and white Humphrey Bogart movie with the sound right down and Pyramid Song by Radiohead playing over the top. Thom Yorke sings "It was nothing to fear, nothing at all" and Bogart kisses the dame. The music builds momentum, tensions build and Bogart drives off... no, I can't describe this well enough. Do it yourself.
It's been a while since I've written much, and I've had the urge for a few days. It's a bit challenging to type at the moment, coz I've only got the use of one of my little fingers. The finger I normally use for the Shift key was taken out of action on Thursday in a commando roll incident. Something stabbed into it mid-roll, which I promptly removed and threw away before ascertaining the nature of it, but not before some kind of toxin was introduced to my gentle white city boy flesh. It's now swollen, pink and bandaged; I'm taking antibiotics and have had a tetanus shot. All from one stinking poorly-executed commando roll.
Wow, a silhouette leaves an injured man in an alleyway as You and Whose Army? draws to a close.
I'm a day's work away from driving buses unsupervised. With my as-yet-limited experience, I have a few words for the general public:
1. Don't drive like a n00b.
2. Don't play chicken with me - you really don't want to lose.
3. Be nice, because it will come back to you and make your day just that little bit nicer :o)
4. If I can hear your iPod from the driver's seat, I will probably laugh at you, though you won't hear it because you're too busy killing your ears.
Hmm... I wonder if anyone who's studied sociology could help me out here. Is it true that we all have equal potential in this society, or is that a myth invented by the upper class and taught to us in school to appease their collective conscience? And from whence comes the sense of difference between classes?
I have decided that prejudice is counter-productive. It certaintly doesn't do me any good to be prejudiced at work, but nor does it help me do my job when I encounter the prejudices of another directed at my uniform. And that's not even taking into consideration the affect of these things on others.
People died weirdly in black and white.
At this very moment I'm watching a black and white Humphrey Bogart movie with the sound right down and Pyramid Song by Radiohead playing over the top. Thom Yorke sings "It was nothing to fear, nothing at all" and Bogart kisses the dame. The music builds momentum, tensions build and Bogart drives off... no, I can't describe this well enough. Do it yourself.
It's been a while since I've written much, and I've had the urge for a few days. It's a bit challenging to type at the moment, coz I've only got the use of one of my little fingers. The finger I normally use for the Shift key was taken out of action on Thursday in a commando roll incident. Something stabbed into it mid-roll, which I promptly removed and threw away before ascertaining the nature of it, but not before some kind of toxin was introduced to my gentle white city boy flesh. It's now swollen, pink and bandaged; I'm taking antibiotics and have had a tetanus shot. All from one stinking poorly-executed commando roll.
Wow, a silhouette leaves an injured man in an alleyway as You and Whose Army? draws to a close.
I'm a day's work away from driving buses unsupervised. With my as-yet-limited experience, I have a few words for the general public:
1. Don't drive like a n00b.
2. Don't play chicken with me - you really don't want to lose.
3. Be nice, because it will come back to you and make your day just that little bit nicer :o)
4. If I can hear your iPod from the driver's seat, I will probably laugh at you, though you won't hear it because you're too busy killing your ears.
Hmm... I wonder if anyone who's studied sociology could help me out here. Is it true that we all have equal potential in this society, or is that a myth invented by the upper class and taught to us in school to appease their collective conscience? And from whence comes the sense of difference between classes?
I have decided that prejudice is counter-productive. It certaintly doesn't do me any good to be prejudiced at work, but nor does it help me do my job when I encounter the prejudices of another directed at my uniform. And that's not even taking into consideration the affect of these things on others.
People died weirdly in black and white.
Tuesday, January 06, 2009
marketing brilliance
Newsflash: I now have a coffee-flavoured computer.
This is an AMAZING potential product. Not only could geeks get their caffeine fix with a simple lick, but it would fill any room with the unmistakeable scent of warm homeliness. A must-buy for the caffeine addict and the discerning real estate agent seeking to add the finishing touch to any house inspection.
Simple to produce: just cough while drinking coffee in front of any normal PC.
I want royalties.
This is an AMAZING potential product. Not only could geeks get their caffeine fix with a simple lick, but it would fill any room with the unmistakeable scent of warm homeliness. A must-buy for the caffeine addict and the discerning real estate agent seeking to add the finishing touch to any house inspection.
Simple to produce: just cough while drinking coffee in front of any normal PC.
I want royalties.
Friday, January 02, 2009
in the other room
Crazy noises:
Guitar, eagles, guns and questions.
Heartbeats, silences, screams and beeps,
Bracketed by plastic music.
fun
empty
All I want to do is write
but I cannot.
Not because of the cacophony.
At least,
not because of the one outside.
To write is to soar,
freer than an eagle,
on thermals high above consciousness;
To take a breath and paint
thoughts as words
before your eyes.
To see with your mind
then speak with your hands.
To create worlds of words;
to pronounce judgment with sentences;
to evince what you desire.
To write would be freedom,
But a stream of consciousness
is all I can muster.
True beauty is wrought of control,
of the deft motions of an artisan's hands
and not of wanton release.
I aspire to gracefulness in words,
to create worlds of my own,
to see sweet black on marvellous white
unfolding the myriad colours of imagination -
my imagination -
before me.
Guitar, eagles, guns and questions.
Heartbeats, silences, screams and beeps,
Bracketed by plastic music.
fun
empty
All I want to do is write
but I cannot.
Not because of the cacophony.
At least,
not because of the one outside.
To write is to soar,
freer than an eagle,
on thermals high above consciousness;
To take a breath and paint
thoughts as words
before your eyes.
To see with your mind
then speak with your hands.
To create worlds of words;
to pronounce judgment with sentences;
to evince what you desire.
To write would be freedom,
But a stream of consciousness
is all I can muster.
True beauty is wrought of control,
of the deft motions of an artisan's hands
and not of wanton release.
I aspire to gracefulness in words,
to create worlds of my own,
to see sweet black on marvellous white
unfolding the myriad colours of imagination -
my imagination -
before me.
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