so what an interesting weekend. friday night was excellent and i'm still not sure if we really stayed up to five o'clock or not. while waiting around waterloo, i found a small looking, but large acting pizzeria/trattoria/bar, and with an hour to kill before meeting time, i sat down with my book and had a not great pizza. i think it was the water coming out of the fresh tomatoes that ruined it. i was sitting outside to escape the smoke and noise, next to a patio heater (and how i longed for my global warming tape). after a fashion, the waiters come out and set about trying to turn it on. i told him i didn't want it on, and explained that this was because of the environmental effects (it wasn't even cold). he seemed confused, because he moved the heater to the other side of the patio and started fiddling with it over there (where there already was one). i left, and didn't tip. a few minutes later, i was back there with pete and ed, as in all fairness, it does seem like the only place anywhere near waterloo, which appears to be in the middle of bleaksville, like the set of the running man. ed and i proved we where were real men putting our knives and glasses down on the table in fornt of us. when jez arrived, we started writing down set lists for our new band which isn't called psychic monkey, honest. pete effectively joined there and then, and officially joined later, before a decidedly erotic wrestling match with his sister lizzie - while sitting on her back, every time he said "have i won yet? if you promise you won't kick me, i'll get up", so she kicked him, which only prolonged the physical contact lizzie craves (i didn't say this, it was freud). so thanks to her and dave for putting me up.
i didn't get too drunk and i slept well and woke up feeling refreshed, and then watched the muppets and headed out to forum 3 to 'network'. upon leaving islington tube, i was recognised by a friend of kate 'built' palmer, called marie, who i spent the next few hours enjoying the company of, before we went our seperate ways at the station again. waiting for ed to call, i got a halloumi, spinach and mushroom crepe from a dodgy stand, then went off to find a pub. i walked straight past two before going into the american themed 'lil red' bar. comfortable, quiet, playing lovely acoustic music (the man didn't know, but said it might be the arcade fire) and i ordered half a pint and crikey! captain beefheart and his/the magic band were on the tv! i asked the man if he could put it through the speakers, but he said no, the volume's broken, it's just for visuals. so i just watched, which was a pleasure too. then i sat down for two hours and waited for ed to call again, during which time i finished 'the three stigmata of palmer eldritch' and wanted to cry. even though most of the book wasn't that good, quite weakly plotted, just the fear at the end of not knowing quite when the drug experiance has ended, and whose trip is it anyway, and does it project you as a phantasm into the future or is it completely illusory, was wonderful/terrifying. so then i went home. i realised i couldn't really afford another night/day in london and set off to victoria, where i got a message from ed saved when i was on the underground (obviously). it's amazing how much we've come to rely on mobiles and i'm quite sick of it.
yesterday was spent entirely in the kitchen, with haggis, and cards.
what is it about the revered that makes them spout rubbish about euthanasia in public? even dr. johnathon sachs, who is among the most sensible, progressive and right thinking person in the media, feels the need to tell people (okay, i read this on totally jewish dot com) that euthansia is bad, and like the bishop of oxford writing in the independant, has nothing to his argument other than a belief in a god, which is the adult equivelent of sticking your fingers in your ears and shouting 'i'm not listening' over again. guys; it's your god. it can tell you to do whatever you want it to tell you to do, so don't use it as an argument for absolutism; and don't try and use this motivation to affect the lives of people who aren't your flock.
just been thinking about the song, 'pack up your troubles in your old kit bag and smile, smile, smile' (if you don't remember it, ask your parents), and i noticed the song doesn't ask you to throw away your troubles, it actually seems to say take them with you every where you go. i suggest an alternative lyric: 'give all your sins to a goat and slaughter it'.
the new ephel duath album isn't out today after all, but in two weeks.
did you know the bbc has an ethics sub-site?
i've had some crazy dreams recently, but the wierdest has to be that david wrench's new album was released on vinyl with an extra three records for about 70 quid, and i remember handling it but not buying it.