1 6 / 0 2 / 0 4:
"life is empty and meaningless; and its empty and meaningless that its empty and meaningless." - discuss
yesterday american john brought home a small, brightly coloured bag of tiny dried fish, each no longer than an inch, each with its head intact. he said he found it in a japanese shop alongside "the candy". i pose the question: the healthy alternative to crisps?
was that the 'the mysterious hum' i heard make a return last night?
irritating in that it arrives unsolicited
but also in that it treats you like you must be retarded in some way:
the 15 second unsong track submitted for the boyarm.com compilation 'il programma di religione' has been accepted; though which pope i'll get is anyone's guess, it seems my first choice, st. simplicius, was given to someone else. pah. cd due out "early to mid 2004". watch this space.
caption reads: "I'm so happy, my savings are making bullets! Toukai Bank." (apparently written in the style of a child) thanks to jon in japan (and i suspect masumi) for the translation.
from rotten.com) "Feb 11 1933 - nineteen
year old japanese schoolgirl kiyoko matsumoto committed suicide by jumping
into the thousand foot crater of a volcano
on the island of oshima. this act started a bizzarre fashion
in japan and in the ensuing months three hundred
children did the same thing."
as i sit here typing, i am surrounded by building sites. o such industry. o such manufacture. sounds drift through my window. somewhere huge metal things are grinding against one another making a sound like tortured elephants; like speeded up lustmord.
tony blair says he feels vindicated by the hutton report. ok tony, if you're vindicated then i'm michael flatley lord of the dance. damn you blair for re-politicising me (if only on a very superficial level -i do many things very well on this level). even though i fiercely maintain my 'they're all the same, lining their own pockets, vomiting out counterfeit answers, blah blah blah' stance, something as grotesquely transparent as the blair/bush circle of fuck still irritates the hell out of me. bunchacunts. "just when i get out, they drag me back in." -michael corleone
i've decided to try and use the word 'spurious' more.
went to see 'the pillowman' at the national theatre. still on. recommended. good theatre eh? now there's a 24 carat gold rarity. whodathunkit?
after weeks of preparation, the shop downstairs is open. a 'mini-mart'; and they've spelt the word tobacco wrong on their sign (that's double 'c' boys). they seem to have installed some kind of extractor fan below my window which turns itself on and off roughly every half an hour. this went on all night, kicking the shit out of any chance i had of getting a good night's sleep. 7:45 and loud indian music begins to filter through the floor; approx. 8:00 and the pneumatic drills from the plague of building sites kick into life (though only for as long as it takes to wake me up, then they fall silent). all this before a day when i have two important appointments, both of which, should they go badly, could see me asking you if you "want fries with that?" in the very near future.
a trip to walthamstow. 'the stow'. seldom have the words shit and hole been more suited for each other. but perhaps that's unfair. perhaps. it could be said that most parts of london when viewed by a stranger appear to be some form of cleverly sculpted dung pile inhabited by the bewildered, the ill-tempered and the desperate. all i know is that people seem to spit copiously and with great skill in walthamstow.
more spam nonsense. another unsolicited piece of crap email arrived today, this one trying to outwit spam hunting software (which i don't have) by inserting random words in between the lines of text, in a colour so as to render them almost unreadable, words such as "clustered scarcity reinvented savagers thousand, chock diagrammed explosives beating shiite, dictionary tastes luftwaffe workbench dowager, sentinel london impacting stripping scramble, godmother disguise wield ligature rupee" when these words are highlighted it makes the email read like a william burroughs novel (all you need are a few giant centipedes, a bit of gallows sodomy and you're there).
recommended: (audio) cannonballs rolling across cobble stones / (comestible) mexican chicken and kidney beans / (visual) irreversible on dvd / (sensorial) all alone
(audio) ash / (comestible) japanese dried fish snacks / (visual) 'jordan'
-inverted commas due to my suffocating incredulity at her actual physical
existence on this planet / (sensorial) a cheese grater stacked too near
the taps -ouch
"stressed bosses can listen to nature - by phone
stressed managers in austria can ring mobile phones with an automatic answering facility in austrian forests and hear "the genuine woodland sound of silence".
the mobile phones have been put in forests in styria in southern austria and anyone calling the lines can experience the sounds and the quietness of nature.
only the occasional sound of snow falling from the tree boughs or the footsteps of a passing deer disturb the peace.
the call wood project was set up to show a society "that is used to consulting professionals for solving their problems" an alternative.
it has proved such a hit that call waterfall and call mountain top lines are also planned."