the most amazing thing just happened. 3 o'clock in the morning, 13 hours before disertation deadline, and i got it to work. it all clicked into place, all the bugs cleaned away. so i just deleted the two hundred words of self-loathing that was my evaluation ("to be fair, Ema just doesn't work...") and started writing how great it was, how it fills every requirement, oh joy!

the write up still isn't finished though, so i'm off to the 24 hour garage..

today's jaunt into town was fun. i went to take back forest's debut record, which was pretty appalling, such a shame, their second one's meant to be dead good (the track i heard, 'graveyard', is a beauty) but it's not been reissued yet, and on the way, i stopped into the punker bunker. just to look. while i was there, the bloke upstairs popped down and said that the woman who runs the porcupine cafe had just thrown a brick through her shop window. bad juju.
"have you got the orthrelm/trencher split 7inch?" i enquire.
"no.. the only thing we have by them is this last copy of their limited split 5inch with (band i've never heard of)"
okay, i'll have it. five pounds for five inches, it's a deal!

was there a fever in the air? do you know how much audio you get on a 5"? about half an inch per side. making things worse, both trencher tracks are on their album that i've already got, and that cost four pounds.

but the nice man was very happy to give me a cash refund when i came back in minutes later, having had a chance to think about what i'd done.

it's not the first time i've taken back two records in a day - actually it's the third - but it is the first time they didn't go back to the same store. the first time, it was steal this album (which i had no intention of paying for) and dissimulate (which turned out to be twice the price listed on the earache webstore). i copied both.

the second was vulnerabilia and the coral. i was generally unsatisfied with both of them, so didn't copy them. why would i want to?
*that said, seeing vulnerabilia for three pounds in a sale made me want to give it another go, and now i quite like it. it was probably the coral that upset me.*

but not copying them doesn't stop the man in the shop giving you a dirty look, because he thinks you did.
ah; the perils of a midweek radio 4 purves.

which reminds me, cocker is on desert island discs this week, and it's not available online, tune it guys xx


give us a song, rothko!

the final crunch is on, and i'm not talking about zangief's 360 degree spinning pile driver, my talking about my CSAI degree spinning pile of shit dissertation.

i had a dream that i bedded 'some girl'. you know, 'some girl' (who i haven't even thought of for days). nothing happened, we just had a nice snuggle. that's all that happens in my dreams, but it's better than the times when i would dream of only disappointment. you can't read much into it, however, because the same day i had a dream i was in command of an orc army, joining forces against the chaos horde, and i don't especially want to play warhammer.

someone pointed out that i never mention him on my blog. well, that's not about to change now.


jenny finn: doom

fucked up. that book put the horror straight through me. i loved it. understand, i haven't read a fictional comic for ages; my last purchase was joe matt's 'the poor bastard' (although i dearly hope that that was largely fictional). i've loved hellboy since it was serialised in 2000AD (megazine?), but never bought into it because there's simply to much of him. it always puts me off; i'd love to read animal man, but you can't do these things by halves, you either buy all of it or you borrow it. but if we all do our bit, then we can all enjoy the rewards. i need a job. and storage space (bravo to dan for taking the bull by the horns and disposing of all his recent 2000ADs). or maybe i just need to join the library. i digress. mike magonlia has created a piece of real subversion, and apparently all so troy nixey gets to draw some tentacles.. oh, such tentacles..

jenny finn is excellent. according to sequential tart, it was originallycancelled halfway through it's run in 2000; at the point where the i'm up to, the end of the first book. that's two issues. however, they'll be publishing the second half in, um, february, so let's hope dave/steph gets that in nowish, and then i'll be able to work out what happened at the end of the first book (something to do with fish and tentacles)

this is just too intimate. special erotica.
also excellent is that trafalger wines has a case of out of date zywiec porter, which was my first ever favourite beer.

phone conversation with rachel (happy birthday) last night:
"i'm in the hobgoblin," she said, for the third time, as requested.
"oh, i was on my way home."
"come back!"
"no, i want to be in bed soon, i'm exhausted."
"why not come back?"
"i've just been working 'til nine, i wouldn't be able to stay long anyway."
"what's wrong?"
"what? nothing."
"why are you trying to make me feel bad about myself?"

psstch. girls.

can't think of a way to end this, so here's some more porn:


p.s. i've just downloaded the troy tate version of accept yourself. i feel so special.


is there no end to archer's shame?

jeffery archer apperently stealing from the charity bucket, again

is it racist to impose limits on immigration?

the real issue: why do people want to come to this country?

border controls are definately racist, in a nutshell:

take two countries, a rich one and a poor one.
with freedom of movement, poor people would come into the rich country and work for less money; they would do so until there was no point in coming to rich country, i.e. wages were as low as the poor one (meanwhile, companies in the rich country outsource to the poor one, raising their wages).
like gas through a membrane, things would even out between the two countries. border controls prevent this from happening. why do we want to preserve some people in poverty?
the only reason can be racism - the idea that britons somehow deserve higher quality of life than those outside.
this is exemplified by the fact that e.u. citizens can come here as much as they like.

poor people come to britain because we have wrecked their countries through imperialism. we have border controls because we're happy at the front of the rat race.
there are two ways to stop people coming to our country - border controls, and improving their quality of life.
i know which one i prefer.



monday night we went to Brighton Anti-Folk's The Ukelayle Research and Development Society, set up by the bobby mcgees and that amazing ukelayle player who busks. you can probably tell i wasn't in a great state then (i'm well now, thank you) so i really wanted to go out. it was a distinct cut above yer average open mike night, and i've never been so nervous before performing (chewing off my nails not having helped). things got worse - i asked to play their ukelayle and found that it was tuned different to how i've always had it. things just kept going wrong. i forgot to tell any jokes. my two songs were grace kellyblues (people reognised and nodded to), and girl in tha kid a top, which may well have been the first public performance. i fucked up a little bit on the polyrythymic section, getting confused and thinking i had to do the solo. it must have been pretty wierd to watch.
after it finished, i was given some advice on ukelayle tunings by the man (who can't control his face when he's speed strumming), and we headed out, into the night, feeling fine again.

we were nearly home and i realised i'd left my guitar. it all came back.. how could i do that? it's like forgetting to leave food out for the cat. i felt awful, even when i woke up, right the way through until i picked it up the day after.

the decktar - cool or stupid?

the most confusing thing about ollie, is that he'll happily scream 'killed yourself yet, you heartless bastard?' at me when given the opportunity down the phone, but walk straight past me on campus. call me conceited, but if someone has a bad opinion of me, then i consider their opinion invalid because i'm not a bad person (am i? i do consider people's opinions every time they here them. am i heartless? er, no. i was there for him but he turned me down). i figure at the moment, ollie's not actually angry with me, he just wanted to hurt me because it'll make him feel better about himself - he could call me and tell me he hated me anytime, and i see him all the time on campus, so he's not devoid of opportunites.
the last thing he said to me (back on the 30th of november!) was 'you've really let me down as a friend'. funny how he changed his tack - when telling me i'm a let down didn't work (because i wasn't so i ignored him), the next 'safe' opportunity he gets to try and hurt me he just lets rip. again i ignore him. not that i feel completely unshaken, i admit.

however, i wasn't there, and i don't know what state he was really in. he will always have my deepest sympathies.


my inability to decide has become chronic. the other day, i actually had to resort to flipping a coin to choose between two items on a menu. normally, this is an excercise in seeing how you feel with that choice, but it didn't have any effect. fortunately, the waiter was on hand to recomend the other choice.
i' ve come to realise that i do have some innate belief in magic, and that giving up choices to random events will provide you with the answer you require. this anecdote contradicts that, but it still reassures me that a random decision will always be the right one. even better, if it is just random, then i will experiance things i would not have done if i'd have chosen the one i want. i'm perfectly happy when the meal arrives, even if it was a random choice. the next step is to be perfectly happy with a choice i've made myself.


i've lost my faith in womanhood

it had to happen eventually; i got over it. not her, them. all of them.
conversations like this happen to me in clubs, in my head (click for legibilty):

it's not supposed to be funny.
girls in clubs can fuck off. you're drunk, there's a simulation of the dresden blitz going on, people keep bumping into you and sticking their feet uderneath yours, and you're expected to notice if someone's flirting with you? dude, i'm dancing.
you understand that this says more about me than society. you know she's not flirting with me; my beast inside noticed her exposed v-line and forearms and started certain trains of thought... it is these i am reacting against, not women. but phenomenonally, there's no difference. i have awakened from my mental disaster over a virtual girl with a renewed perspective on life. i am not going to let myself belong to the next person who notices me (even this sentence makes me sick with it's underlying assumption that someone will). my dreams have died and i'm now free. although.. maybe i'm just finally caving in under the weight of my inhibitions.

it's just that...

anyway, this is how i felt. ah, anxiety. my treadmill: finding the balance between not caring so much about final work that i get fantastically stressed (i hate to attribute stress in other areas of my life to work, but admit it's a strong possibility), but caring enough to do it.

anna letts came down and we went to see keiretsu. they weren't on 'til half one in the morning, by which time we were nearly dead and loz was dreaming of chips but the kitchen at the concorde smells like chinese food from hell. despite all this, when the 'tsu came on it was mad action, a skyburst of energy. shirtless madmen wielding bottles of smirnoff ice wobbling to fully influenced-up d'n'b. some of their actual tunes are still a bit wussy, but the performance, the passion and the production were awesome. they made an hour seem like twenty minutes.

tomorrow night is the ukelayle research and development society at fringe bar - antifolk open mike, 6 minute slots, ukelayle not essential. suggestions for songs?

and like it or not, there's another street fighter 2 endingup. in this week's episode, aimee gets to play a starring role and m bison actually gets killed. sorry for the lack of drag - fans were probably expecting more than andy dressed as ken's girlfriend liza. last one next week - zangief (enhanced version). we didn't get around to doing eddy or dhalsim, so i'm afraid they'll have to wait or be ignored.



eats, shoots, and house of leaves.

i finished the book. it's terribly, cryptic, and only slightly anti-climatical. it's for the best that most things are only hinted at, but i don't see the need to completely over-analyse it. the point is surely that it's mysterious? danielewski's talent is in giving enough information to hint at even more information. it's all very lovecraftian, especially in the telling (dear reader, the book i have discovered is grave, oh! the secrets it reveals... etc.)

mp3 of the week

by the way, ken is up already.



i was at home, lovely home. while out walking over alstonefield way on sunday, i happened to mention the plight of millions of our fellow countryfolk as they had attempted to buy tickets for the glastonbury festivale this morning. Shell thought it 'sad' that people of her age would still want to do things 'for young people' so that they could 'pretend they weren't old.' i said, well that might not be true for everyone. just because your tastes have changed as you have grown older, doesn't mean everyone else's should. laurence's parents would be my prime example, although i didn't bring them up. she tried to counter with, well it's all marketing isn't it? regain your youth by spending lots of money on our product; but i slapped it right back with, well that may be the case for some situations, but you can't generalise it to all cases, and anyway, aren't you as bad as the marketers who say 'don't grow up' to everyone, by saying 'grow up' to everyone? you're being exactly as absolutist in your views.

she agreed.
and then said, "yeah, but if you and danny were in a coffee shop in brighton and you a text from me saying i was in glastonbury, you'd just think that was a bit sad wouldn't you?"
thus getting around my superior argument by defeating the point of discussion itself. a highly commendable tactic.

shell, my mother, hitchhiked to the isle of wight festival. she attended the first glastonbury. she was a lot more 'rebellious' as a teenager than i've ever been. i wonder how she feels as she looks back on those days?

i saw some great telly at home. have you seen 'the contender'? it's ultimate t.v.. presented by 'sly' stallone, it's a reality-docu-drama about two teams of boxers (east and west sides) as they train (with the aid of 'sugar' ray) and clash their egos. they're not confined to the gym, so we get scenes of them at home with their children, teaching them to fight, or crashing out exhausted in the chair, needing eomtional support from the girlfriend - footage of which is cut up with the same people as talking heads, commentating on the experiance, backed up with swelling orchestral music.
in one scene, they are all taken out to get fitted suits. one man has never had his own suit before. 'god bless america', he weeps.
the whole show stinks of a fix.

before i left for brighton, i ransacked my room for diaries and photos. on the train i read through 2002 and 2003 - some quite dark moments on the whole, collapsing into two months of radio silence in nov and dec 2002. but while the fog of nostalgia held me wanting the lost time back for a little while, soon i found that i was glad it was all in the past, and felt more than ever that it really was in the past, and things were different now.
anyway, i just wanted to illustrate one classic week for you, complete and uncensored (or improved):

tuesday, 7th may 2002
(hammell on trial gig ticket affixed)
crazy. met ann at krobar. she's wearing a very short denim skirt, and big kick ass boots. drink and eat, and drink and smoke in the venue and touchy, but i'm just so scared and monged and i want to dance but dreams/reality confused. but now i know, that's what it is - pure terror. i'm just terrified of what might happen, which is rediculous but true wanking is just so reliable. i think i actually do have feelings for her (which would be handy)

thursday, 9th

(saw hedwig and the angry inch, was great)

friday, 10th
once you have dreamed kissing and making love to a person, how do you face the reality that they haven't experianced it? end up working briefly. see 100 reasons + support w/ steve and paul; wierd.

saturday, 11th
can't believe she asked me round to her house this night and i said no. is it that exactly what i wanted?

ann was a collegue (from michigan, U.S.A.) that i often wrestled with myself over (*mentally*), because she was genuinely attractive, so i hated myself for being attracted to her.
"it's what i have to work with."


go home and be a family man!

i'm sure you're getting the hang of this, but...
guile is online. guile's ending has always been my favouritest, so clicky.

this sunday you will find me at the joogleberry playhouse:
film starts 3pm

SUN 10 WHAT ABOUT BOB (1991 Frank Oz)
A definitive feel-good film that is consistently funny thanks largely to solid, workman-like direction from Frank Oz, and excellent performances by Bill Murray and Richard Dreyfuss
Sue's favourite Bill Murray film!!

did you hear about the doctor who formulated a diet of no carbohydrate?
he was atking the piss.