Sunday

DJ x and MC y

ways and means
slap and tickle
carrott and stick
shits and giggles
cause and effect


and so on.
the week wasn't too good - besides meeting my old pal sam, who now lives in a warehouse (no, actually a warehouse, with boxes in and everything), and matt coming over for tea and iannuchi, i spent my days going slowly mad in the confines of my room. watching vanilla sky on friday night confounded once again that terrible feeling of lack of stimulation.

spoiler warning!
while many many people must have written many many words about this film, i feel compelled to add to the shit heap. firstly it's the least good 'what's going on?' film i've seen - it basically lifts it's plot from red dwarf's 'better than life' episode where rimmer's subconcious acts out malicious fantasies on him. for the most part it felt like it was trying to be clever without actually being clever, until i think the fourth fifth or third quarter, when i think it actually started being clever, and then the end.. i hate it when a story has a 'this is actually what happened' ending that completely explains everything, especially one that deals with self-deception and madness, because you honestly can't tell if it's any more true than the rest of the film. it's about layers of reality i suppose, which i think is about chapter four of godel escher bach. and then there was the music, which was too loud. this film broke the golden 'don't use a familiar song at music video volume to show what's going on in someone's head' rule, was one of three things that also let down the educators, co-incidentally also using a jeff buckley song (the other things that let down the educators were the annoying 'trick' ending that wasn't a trick as much as the director lying to you with cameras, and the brighton audience i saw it with). for all that, it was quite good.

after wards, katie and i talked about wierd dreams and non-dreams, and i commented how we would probably now have reall wierd dreams in the morning. and we did.

end spoiler.

then yesterday, i took my self into essex - brentwood, tbp - to play on either chris or rifa's radio shows on pheonix fm (it was rifa who told me to come down and bring a guitar {to which i supposed might mean 'play on the show' but in anxiety also supposed that she just might want to be entertained while she was cueing up records, in the same way that a person might say 'i really want to sleep with you' to another person and then say 'i only said sleep.' i don't have this anxiety in particular, it's just a good example}, but i was late and ended up on chris' show after the love music hate racism interview). this session was recorded by my loyal fan base/record company, and is available by clicking on my face on the top of the side bar on the right. then we went for a a posh snack and a chat and a hang out and we all went home. i made a mix for thalia, whose birthday it be, and went out to her party at a belly dancing club (natch). i felt like lead, so i couldn't really move. but by pulling my hoody on i became something else, dancing to the dark rhthyms inside the beats.. for a bit. then i got tired again and read the silmarillion. then i went home. i think i need more energy and floradix pops into my head. one day of fun seems too much for me..

i woke up this morning feeling excellent and full of love. i began reading 'teach yourself zen' again, and now i'm going out to the park to plan the girlfriend experience album begining to end. so that's good.
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