even men with steel hearts...

..love to see a dog on the pitch. slightly demeans the monumental news of Peel's death on tuesday to have that as fron page news. but still cheers us up.




trouble is, these days, you never see a dog on the pitch.

what are you, some kind of fascist?

talk about music snobs... i submitted my SFA review with a mark of 86%. Beth called me up and said she wanted it out of ten. i gave it eight. you see what i'm getting at.

Vernon Kaye simulator

today i've had an email, a call, and three text messages telling me John Peel has died. thanks everybody, sorry i can't reply to all your communications individually.

i'm reminded (sudennly) of staying with anna, and how she didn't want to sell a comissioned UV painting, because she'd put too much of herself into it, and it was basically too good. this popped into my head thinking about Tony Hart's 'the gallery', where they could never return your pictures - if you love something, you must let it go.

but Peel's fucking dead.


listen to some interesting facts about numbers by simon singh (ta b3ta).

i'm going to go home and fight the zombie.

and possibly cry in my pint.

edit: a couple of recent dreams.

this morning i was at a Super Furry Animals gig. Micheal Jackson was there. we ended up having a dance-off, which was unfair because he was wearing an animated street fighter two t-shirt and it was distracting me.

a couple of days ago, i was back in Indonesia. there was a significant 'authority' presence. we had to levitate/fly around everywhere, but i kept landing, i had to do long, low-grav-style leaps instead of the real floating everyone else was doing. i had to go to the toilet at night.

i just listened to a very good song called 'The Devil and Danny Cohen' by Danny Cohen, from the album 'Dannyland'. not that he's self obsessed or anything.
www.anti.com to listen to a song of his. it's not as good as the one i was listening to, though...

and Kieron's posted the last episode of Negativeland on big robot. don't read the last episode unless you've read the rest, so click the 'gillen archive', not the picture under 'current gillen'. and now... i'm going home.

hm. how do avoid getting a Grubbs burger tonight?

text from a Bernard Matthews trade ad:

WE HAVE THE POWER
Back in 1985, Bernard Matthews recognised the potential of shaped products for children with the launch of Golden Drummers.

Over The years we have continually innovated, successfully harnessing pester power to become the true market leader.

that's pearly, isn't it? they're so proud of themselves.

everything was so nice.
my project was to be based on a book called 'virtual music', in stock in the library. commentry by, obviously, Douglas Hofstadter. i put Alec Empire's intelligence and sacrifice into my ears, and galloped towards the bus stop (my bike has a flat tyre). it being tuesday, the market was on, and just as i was walking under falmer house, i spotted out of the corner of my eye - Alan Moore's 'a small killing'. propped up against the legs of a cheap table. i rushed over, and scrabbled through leaves of comics - 2000AD monthly issue 74, comprising Halo Jones book 1! there was a spiderman comic by garth ennis as well, but only one issue, and well.. i got so sick of preacher.
i felt so cool.
the monthly and the graphic novel cost me a total of two pounds.
i went to cafe scientifique with Alex, Simon Singh and a cosmologist from Sussex talking about the big bang - you see, it's not that matter in the universe is spreading out - it's that space is expanding. oh, my love of understandable, crazy science!

wednesday was spent waiting for the NTL man to come. he didn't; the reason? "oh, apperently, no-one was assigned to do it." worse excuse ever. shouldn't put up with that kind of abuse. saw Drop Dead Dave's debut dispension, down de Freebutt. very deep, good music. they played four or five (now familiar) songs, being Abi and Astra plus pianist, which makes her songs much properer. er. i don't think they need anyone else.

but then thursday... it all went a bit skew-y. i realised that, even though i'm enjoying all my courses, that doesn't mean they might not be beyond me. eek!

click for the unofficial no-hands gallery!. some are well shit, but others are delightful.

and so: come round our's on saturday, we're having a party. it'll be big.

this wasn't very good was it? i'll try harder next time.

to finish off, here's my idea for a comic strip or sit-com called...

ROSEMARY'S BEER BELLY

Abstract: drinking shit beer makes you a twat.
one night, in the union bar, Rosemary Mint buys a pint of Foster's lager. however, surprisingly, it's the Devil's piss.. no, literally the Devil's piss! (there was an mix-up at the bottling plant.) the piss sickens her, but though she can't help herself, she keeps drinking, and the beer soaks through her stomach wall, causing her belly to swell and become possessed, and it directs her to do awful acts, which i haven't thought of yet.

it would work very well as a Viz one-off; if anyone wants to develop this with me, drop me a line at the usual address.

oh fuck.