Music For Your Tape Recorder

How does one reconcile the fact that I only bought 3 CDs this year, and yet managed to hear all the below listed? *cough*

Since there was no Christmas Top of the Pops this year, and everyone got along fine without it, see below my soundtrack of the year:

Some Are Workers, Some Are Not

Container Terminal (Cropped), Prij, 12/10/06

Aside from the many unfinished drafts I haven't finished, I was planning to get back into writing this month. To cut a long story short, in the words of Tony Hadley; I had to get a j*b. That was what I was going to write about on Tuesday, but put it off for a day. The roller-coaster is detailed herein:

On the Friday 8th I had to go to the Amazon.co.uk warehouse and apply for a temp job running through December. I think I overdressed for that. Having been accepted, I started on the 10th at 0600 (to 1400) - we were assured newbs are never normally trained on the that shift. We were assigned roles after a presentation, based on our performances in the 5 tests on the previous Friday. I was an 'RF Picker' - we carry handheld scanners, go round the floor collecting requested items, putting them on the library carts and returning them to Collate where the order slips are handed-out. It's considered better than packing, since you get to move around.

The Nightfly (Until The Sun Comes Through The Skylight)

In the summer months, my propensity to sleep a lot doesn't pose much of a problem. In those months I have a maximum of 18 hours in which to sample direct sunlight.

Now we're back in the near-perpetual dark and grey skied months of winter. Last weekend, between 1615 on Friday and 1200 on Monday, I experienced no sunlight (direct or indirect). I can't say any psychological or physical disturbances manifested themselves as a result of the lack of natural light. The constant memory of watching sunrise does pop into my head frequently, and my speaking of the summer Sun as if it was a friend may or may not cast doubt on my claim to a sound mind.

If it wasn't for the deplorable weather, I'd be watching our other major celestial body rise.

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Photo: Prij, Sunrise on June 5th (#24 of 27, Cropped), 05/06/06 0255 UTC

A View To A Kill

My current dearth of activity is largely due to my linguistics project - just when it's near completion, it goes diachronic. A third holiday this year would boost the number of posts, but that's unlikely. Alternatively, I could go to the cinema more frequently.

In preserving "tradition", the Padre and I went to see Casino Royale. This tradition of seeing the new Bond film only stretches back to 31/12/99 when myself, the Padre, and my brother (2 unrelated people at the back were the only other viewers) saw The World is Not Enough. The Padre and I then saw Die Another Day on my birthday 4 years ago. DAD was the worst since Roger Moore's tenure, a recognition of the imaginary threat from Vin Diesel's zZz, and a poor end to the Brosnan era.

Bright Clothes For Winter

Borrowdale from the slopes of Grayrigg Forest, Stephen Dawson, 2004

In my few years of writing on the internet, I've typically taken a break for one month of the year. October appears to have been that month.

My current writing block is afflicting introductions. I could write the rest of the post and then do the intro, but I dislike the break in flow when read back. As a result, I simply haven't written much in October that wasn't already drafted in September. I also have an aversion to publishing anything with less than 500 words.

Through October I've been working on prij.9ax.net (Untitled), preparing pages for forthcoming material. In the past two weeks my linguistics project has received attention after 18 months of neglect. Additionally, I hope to complete two short stories for the New Year - one of which will be a reworking of a piece I wrote 5 years ago in 4th Year English.

Anyway, I went up to the cemetery again on Thursday. I figured a funeral must have taken place when a procession of 30 cars passed by, and stood on the large knoll watching the grave being filled in. I went back into the wooded areas to watch the wildlife.

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I Was Running at the Speed of Life

The cemetery is the closest large public space to where I live and functions like a kind of morbid park. To avoid needlessly having to walk to the bottom of South Street, I tried using GoogleEarth to see if there was a more convenient entrance - I couldn't make out much with its current resolution. Forced outside and handed a beautiful afternoon to waste, I put the camera in my pocket and decided to explore Southward.

Another Scene Began

This is Not a Thunderstorm, Prij, 02/09/05

High-flats rise in and out of low-lying cloud. Metallic screeches emanate from the ocean terminal. The humming of distant traffic and the drizzle form the ambient noise. Another walkabout.

This afternoon, despite the mild rain, I went up to the cemetery again and had a nice time. I wandered around looking for conkers for an hour or so - gathered around 15 of the largest I could find (including four very large conkers). When I came across the first Horse-Chestnut tree a maintenance van drove by - wearing my green heavy field-jacket, I stood still amongst the headstones. The van drove right by without seeing me. So childish.

Turn And Face The Stranger

Back in May I commented on my shift away from my Morrison-esque look that has characterised me for the better part of half a decade. Along with the thousands of days of maintaining shoulder length hair, last week's wind and rain piled in and convinced me to get a haircut.

[IMAGE REMOVED] 1253, my appearance for the last 5 years ; 1406, my appearance for the last 15 minutes

The guy cutting my hair was a certifiable metrosexual - flared jeans, pastel blue t-shirt, spiked die-blonde hair. I'm not condemning the guy, labels are how we communicate ideas. Having my hair cut and having a conversation are not two simultaneous actions associated with me. I'm used to unblinking silence. He asked what I did; rather than say fuck-all, I told him I was on the Social Sciences college course. That's half-true, I never tell outright lies - that way the façade remains unbroken. I actually think it was cheaper than having my shoulder-length hair trimmed. Quite possibly a reimbursement given how much they'll make with the hair I left there.

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They'll Never Clone Ya

Although not as nice a day as my trip to the cemetery two weeks ago (which I've been meaning to write about), I had a nice time today. The streets round here are lined with trees - which is great, but for some reason the council consistently re-tars the road right up to the main trunks which just results in raised and cracked road. I noticed yesterday the pavements were covered in gold and brown leaves and conker pods. 'Tis surely a sign of Autumn - although I saw a lot of fresh conkers back in June. The remnants of Hurricane Gordon caused heavy winds the other night and obviously knocked all the seeds out of the Sycamore tree at the back of the garden. I was out playing with the cat today and noticed dozens of Sycamore seeds all over the driveway.

Niemand Gibt Uns Eine Chance

Automat, Edward Hopper, 1927

It gets dark at 1930. I can't get out of bed until 1300. I can't sleep until 0400. The rain is heavy and constant. The air is warm and stifling. I'm as comfortable as being stuck on a plane again.

The strong winds last night have blown the first dead leaves from the trees that line the streets on this side of town. It's a Thursday and I hate Thursdays. On said day the bins are collected. Every Thursday I walk down the street and immediately know from the multitude of bins that another week has come and gone. It's like having an odometer counting the days of your life, ticking over in the most noticeable but uneventful way. I sit in the dark and listen to the wordless cries drifting through Subterraneans (Low, 1977).

On a different note, anyone else find Anousheh Ansari attractive? I think the pigtails do it for me. That she, like every other woman I've found attractive, is older than me is totally coincidental and in no way reflects any perceived preference on my part.

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Intermission

Ochre, Prij, 09/02/06

I must be at the other end of a Weltanschauung-cycle. I'm very tired, lethargic even. Tired during the day, wide-awake at night. I've got 20 draft posts waiting to be completed and published. I wonder if I can blame it on my third-in-three-years Venus Fly-Trap dying?

I started a few projects this year to keep myself occupied. Since February I've been working on encoding as much data into a single pixel as possible (close to 9 characters per pixel), as an attempt to express as much about my NationStates and CyberNations nations in forum signatures. It's a good way to stay on top of mathematics - preventing you from forgetting everything you know, and introducing you to some advanced concepts. However, it frequently gets bogged down in excessive lossyness problems for weeks at a time until I think of something just as I'm about to fall asleep at night. Plus, there's always my alternative history project, Enyo, which I had planned to release last New Year, but can't settle on the layout.

(Moment of Clarity)

'Twas a sunny Tuesday afternoon, I came home from school to listen to Chris Moyles' show on Radio 1, as always. I turned the radio on, only to be confronted with a contemplative Moyles explaining why there wouldn't be anything to laugh about today (compared to all the other days when starved Africans are no reason to stop having a good time). As I listened to the unscheduled Newsbeat, my eyes widened and I wondered "Shit, has it finally happened?". As I didn't have a TV at the time, I ran into my brother's room and caught my knee on the drawer in my excitement - is "he" on the New World's side? All channels broadcasting breaking news.

To Those Nice Nights

It's my kitten's estimated birthday today. He was roughly 8 weeks old when we got him last Halloween, making him 1 year old today.

It was raining all day so we weren't going to let him outside, but he ran down the stairs and hid under the bush beside the gate. He quite likes the water - the woman who runs the cattery up by IBM says he's a Turkish Van (not pure, of course). Just one of many anniversaries that seem to have clustered around the second half of the year. Amongst others, the 4th anniversary of my first website is in December (although the concept marks its 4th in November). Better think of something.

Share Bride Failing Star

Nighthawks, Edward Hopper, 1942

Last night the sky was the clearest I've ever seen without a power cut. The faint smudge of the central belt of our galaxy was just perceivable. My gaze was fixed upward, waiting for something to happen. A streak of light 100km above. The trouble with Earthgrazing meteors is that there's no sound. You can't write 'woosh', regardless of whatever noise your mind tries to associate with the spectacle. Shiin is apparently the closest you could get to describing it.

What In The World

Fortunately, I was reading through a piece on blog terminology and came across Blog Day - August 31^st. On Blog Day, one recommends 5 other blogs. Thus, gaze in the vertical direction and sample:

The Trick is to Keep Breathing

CN about to bash NS over the head with a rock in early 2006

It's glaringly obvious that NationStates is dead. Compared to its heyday of 2004, NS is now a post-apocalypse collection of the big regions that weathered the calm. The RPers are still there, but they never mattered. The PRP was right to complain about the complete lack of gameplay improvements as NS passed its 3rd birthday. Perhaps NS never was alive - Max Barry conceived it as a marketing exercise for his book Jennifer Government. CN was developed by Kevin (peace be upon him) as a perpetual nation-sim. The problem was there from the outset - it was soulless.

The Stars Look Very Different Today

Following on from my chance spotting of a Perseid earthgrazer in Zakynthos, the clear skies of the past week have led me to hang (uncomfortably) out of the window, uncomfortably twisting my neck upwards for extended periods of time. What did I see in that week?

She's Your Friend, Until The Bitter End

In just under 6 hours time, this blog will be a year old. It's not dead, in case the lack of posts gave that impression - I'll be typing-up my rêveries from holiday over the weekend, filling in the space between this post and the last Leia-fanboi post.

In one year I've managed to publish 138 posts, almost all of which would still be in my head or in dozens of text files lost in one of the folders in My Documents if I was still having to edit HTML on my old website.

Foreign 9: Trans-Europe Express

It happened again. The restaurant last night played an excellent Greek pop/rock song, somewhat reminiscent of indie-Natalie Imbruglia, and I have no idea what it was called. Last time that happened I was in the duty-free shop in the airport on Gran Canaria and they kept playing this catchy song. A few months later Las Ketchup topped the charts across Europe. I can only hope the same happens again. I'll recognise it if that happens, but until such a time I'll keep almost remembering how the chorus goes.

Foreign 8: Washed By The Sun, He Puts His Headphones On

I'm lying poolside listening to Ultravox's Passionate Reply - which is as good as its A-side Vienna. However, despite the discomfort and heat, I'm still wearing trainers. At home, indoors, I wear shoes constantly - walking about in socks is for children and slippers are the callsign of middle-age. Shoes are a symbol of readiness, as well as broadcasting that trainers are for exercising, not for walking. I don't like feet; along with capacity for cruelty, it's another horrible reminder we evolved from the great apes. Stumps along the lines of Metal Gear RAY would look far better. Just me?

Alas, this will be the final post before the usual post from 10KM altitude.

Foreign 7: Close to the Edit

Canadair CL-215s over Zakynthos

The parents have been chatting for the past few days with this couple from Leeds. Their eldest son appears to have emerged as the alpha male, gaining access to the pool girl. At least that's how I interpreted their game of tonsil tennis in the empty pool, late yesterday afternoon. Anyway, this afternoon we went down to the beach and rented out a peddle boat for an hour. The sky had been smoky again, so another bush fire. Luckily I brought the camera along.
About half way through, two water bombers passed nearly overhead. The beach was completely quiet, save the distant roar as they touched the water. I didn't get a decent picture of that because I have a medium-priced digital camera, without a telescopic lens, shooting through haze objects more than a kilometre away. They made two passes, but I only captured the first as I'd forgotten to delete the duff photos and ran out of card space - it's also hard to judge quality on a tiny screen when in direct sunlight, and in a rush. My bother (left) and the Padre are visible in the photograph to your right.

I think I got heatstroke, what with doing most of the peddling, being in direct sunlight, and being incredibly thirsty. Fun, nevertheless.

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Foreign 6: Running Still, Standing So Close

If I was still doing Psychology, I'd have good case study material: interactions between several male adolescents in the presence of a single female adolescent. Lots of 'watch me drown this other guy!' Anyway, I've been having 3 dreams a night for a few days now - that is, each is interrupted by a trip to the toilet because I've been drinking a lot of Irn-Bru every night. This morning, one was more disturbing...

Foreign 5: Smoke On The Water

I think the git sitting to my left understands the international gesture for 'piss off you fucking chimney', the forced cough. As fucking inconsiderate as the two dickheads at the next table in the restaurant last night. Lovely view down the main strip yesterday evening - new crescent moon low on the horizon, bush fire on the hills... The one night I didn't have the camera.

Nice to see the fat git puts the cigarette out for my health, but is not so considerate for his children. Now another addict has lit-up on the other side - does Greece present a free-for-all smokefest? I can only speculate at the connection between regular forest fires, and the multitude of smokers. I joyously welcome more public smoking bans.

Foreign 4: Strength to Dream

For the past 2 months of so, I've had this recurring dream - it's not a nightmare, but it doesn't invoke warm, fuzzy feelings of content. It always takes place in my old house; the loft of which was converted into my bedroom in 1996. Everytime, my room is exactly as it was before we moved-out - the two beds, the Velux windows, my old Aptiva in the corner.

Foreign 3: I'm With The High Command

I've managed to get online today for €2.50 and as I understand it, the Great War is all but over - not ending with great victories, but with a cessation of hostilities after 10 days of stalemate. From my vantage-point, Legion appears to have emerged statistically in the lead. As myself and Dobb predicted; Legion, as the only alliance capable of that, would benefit from all 3 positions: the Order, CoaLUEtion or neutral.

Presuming the ceasefire is still in place on my return, post-war CyberNations will be wary of renewed conflict and see a cold-war emerge amongst the Pacifican and CoaLUEtion aligned alliances. The ODN and NAAC, for their actions against the NPO, will not be forgotten by Pacifica. Any future war will likely see both those alliances taken-down as soon as possible. I can't see GATO and the NPO speaking after the latter's about-turn with regards to the luecide issue - condemning it and then attacking Pacifica concerning its response to LUE. Legion will only be forgiven, grudgingly. NPO-Legion relations will likely be quite cold - a lot of nations are very upset with Legion's apparent opportunism, after the assistance in the WSA war.

Don't the best episodes usually come in two parts?

Foreign 2: Sense of Doubt

Religion is the largest jump in logic endemic to civilisation. It is ultimately an attempt to explain the natural world. According to the ancient Greeks, lightning was a sign that Zeus was angry. Science knows it involves the buildup and discharge of static electricity caused by friction between ice particles in clouds.

Foreign 1: Of What Is Known As...

Whereas I would have been content to sit in the departure lounge, someone has decided we should first board the plane and then wait 40 minutes for taxi clearance. We're going fucking nowhere in seating unfit for battery hens and in close proximity to people I neither know nor like. The pilot has the cheek to thank me for my patience and understanding, because I don't remember expressing either of those sentiments. This in addition to my two particular hates of air travel: 1) the inability to move in any direction other than toward the screens showing the latest Hollywood drivel 2) Personal hygiene is hindered by the difficulty of washing hands and face (more so on the 5 hour flights to the Canaries) without having to disturb everyone else and standing directly in everyone's view waiting for the toilets to become free. I do not like, to quote Bender, being "wrapped in grease".

Yo Te Querer Infinito

Having just finished watching the latter 2/3s of the original Star Wars trilogy, I can rest for another month or two until the urge to watch them rises again.

Most guys saw A New Hope as late-"tweenagers" or at the onset of puberty, and I guarantee they all remember seeing Princess Leia. She [the character, not the actress] stands as the first crush of many young men... as well as many confused young ladies, and that's why Leia is a prevalent pop-culture image. She is forever immortalised in the hearts of millions of guys.

I have a preference for opinionated girls with whom I can argue/debate, which is probably a subconscious emulation of the Han/Leia dynamic.

As for Carrie Fisher, resembling Leia has resulted in a somewhat negative 29 years. When how she looked between the ages of 19 and 25 is forever burned into several million DVDs, there's no way she can ever look like she has aged well.

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Statues

I don't usually read the Sunday Herald so close to its date of publication (traditionally read on a Wednesday at 0Dark Hundred). I only got round to reading last week's on Thursday night; having only just finished today's, my feeling that the days are running together is reinforced. I especially hate it when I read the pre-big-event coverage after having watched said event - in this case, the World Cup final.

Alles Klar

Alles Klar bei die Mauer?, Prij, 30/06/06

The Padre bought me a small FM/AM-MW/SW portable radio back in April and I've got into DXing - probably because I listen to the shortwave samples on Dazzle Ships too much. I found Radio Prague pretty easily, but it's just a news magazine broadcast in a different language every 30 minutes.

I was listening to Voice of Russia this morning - bizzare to hear Soviet national anthem (broadcast without words, the Soviet/Russia anthems are identical). The programme was 'Moscow Mailbag' presented by Mikhail/Michael and Olga. Mike seemed to be a native English speaker, possibly Russian-American, whereas Olga had a very heavy Russian accent and somewhat stilted English - short, basic sentences; perhaps reading from notes. They read out and answered questions sent to the station from listeners around the world - about 90% of which came from the USA.

Unde Praha...

The Bay, Prij, 01/06/06

Fuck, how can it almost be July? I completely forgot it was the solstice today, and any hopes of seeing Sol, let alone photographing it, are out the window with this constant cloud overhead (not a metaphorical cloud).

Feeling under the weather is quite a suitable phrase - I feel the year's ran out of steam, and we're only half-way. Listening to Metamatic, Low, Dazzle Ships, The Dignity of Labour, and the Blade Runner Soundtrack hasn't (and was never expected to) make me any happier. Why do I listen to so much night-driving music if I don't have a car or, indeed, a license?

Now that we're at the peak of Summer, perhaps it's time for a redesign. I'll probably scrap the Dardanelles site in the coming months. Looking at it now, most of the graphics could do with a decent anti-aliasing. Why fix the two year old issues with the site preceeding that when I can design a whole new one? The only thing on my calendar for the foreseeable future is some summer job with the council and looking out for new crescent moons (the next being on the 25th).

[201]

If You Stand Up Like a Nail

Just perusing The Register and noticed a good chance for more fun with search engines in China.

I went to yahoo.cn and tried the usual: 'amnesty international' (their German site is the top result for some reason), 'corruption'. Then I tried the Simplified Chinese searches...

My combinations of 1989年6月4日 (June 4th 1989) with:
民主 (democracy) - Link
赵紫阳 (Zhao Ziyang) - Link

The above all give immediate time-out errors. "The connection to the server was reset while the page was loading." I'll continue to think of other subversive combinations until I get myself barred from yahoo.cn

Scream Like a Baby

Truly, it has been the worst day. Whilst the early hours of Wednesday were utterly frustrating until I managed to fall asleep at 0530, this morning was constant pain - sleep on my right one minute, on the left the next... no, that's worse. Try the right again... ad nauseum.

It feels like someone poured concrete into my left ear. I've got conductive hearing loss, and the ear canal is inflamed. Would you like me to describe what it's like to have a shooting pain in the ear every 5 minutes and having to hear the perpetual throbbing of your pulse for 2 days straight? The only sleep I got last night was about 30 minutes around 1AM, and 5 minutes at about 0430.

[Redacted]

An improved and more eloquent version of what I tried to communicate here will be appear in the future post 'Marxism III'. July 2011.

The Light of a Distant Fire

...and the last tab read. Crap, it's 0400 again and light outside. Sunrise is at 0432 and the horizon is clear - so clear I can see a Sun Pillar. Bollocks, the camera's full. Better get a new set of batteries too. The bank of clouds way off to the NorthEast horizon and the hills on the other side of the river delayed visual sunrise for 20 minutes, and I was beginning to think the cirrus clouds were going to reduce Sol's disc to a diffuse glow. I had taken a closeup of a spider on its web with the sunrise in the background... and then.

Try Not To Bleed On My Couch, I've Just Had It Steam-Cleaned

Ethon (Incomplete), Prij, 27/04/06

Shit, I slept-in - I had to meet my history lecturer today. I threw open the curtains - argh, it's already dark... must be 4 o'Clock, the Sun's set. I dive over the bed to the alarm clock: 04:00 AM?

We talked for an hour, initially about my absence and what I had missed, but quickly it became an informal chat - views of the world, interesting things we'd read in the newspapers. A good lengthy face-to-face chat is something I always enjoy immensely - something I haven't really done in about two years since leaving school. Thinking back to our discussion, my history lecturer (sociology last year in the NC course, and more importantly the class guidance figure over both years) holds a very unique position - guidance-wise she's almost a second more like-minded mother, but otherwise the only person over 40 who comes closest to being described a friend. I particularly got on with my politics and communications lecturers, but not nearly the same level of personal exchange. On an egotistical note, this seems to validate the claim that I was far too mature-minded to be 15 years old.

We came to agreement that there was no point in returning to classes, since there's nothing left to teach so close to the end of term. I'm completely disillusioned with college, so I'm not doing another course - so back to square one. There may be a summer job on the horizon. What lies beyond?

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Turns Our Silhouettes to Gold

I couldn't sleep in that strange time between Saturday night and Sunday morning. I got into bed at 0345 with the curtains slightly open. I tried to rest my eyes by focusing at infinity (the sky), only to notice it was rapidly getting brighter outside. I got up to take a picture of some very red clouds and noticed I'd missed a moonrise in twilight by an hour. I went back to bed and was still awake by 0430. Sunrise is at just under 0500 at the moment, so whilst I was up I took the opportunity to go into the living room, looking NorthEast, and watch the sunrise.

I Don't Want Virtue To Exist Anywhere

"Uncultured Swines of the World, Presume You're Already United and Hopefully Not Bother For All Our Sakes", Prij, 18/05/06

The Grauniad, which I only use to pass those few extra minutes that sometimes remain, had a full back page advert for the new series of "Big Brother" - oh how the masses love our new Orwellian future™. There was also a slightly smaller BB7 ad in my beloved The Independent which also got the overdue culture-jamming treatment (ironic given this feature, which I hand copied whilst reading it, expecting it to be a pay article on the site). You'll have to make do with the above recreation until I get a picture of the ad tomorrow.

Yo Soy Un Hombre Sincero

(Closeup on) Match, Light, and Torch, Prij, 13/05/06

Two years ago (May 14/15th 2004) the "senior prom" up in Glasgow had ended, we were bused back to the school and then off to sleep or continue partaying. Having purchased two fine Bolivar Habana No. 3 cigars at the hotel bar for £6.50 each (where the others went for the cheap cigarette-looking ones), I cut the end off one, took a match, and lit up under a streetlight - unfortunately not in black & white.

Having walked a friend home (but not a female friend, and not her - simply because she didn't go) and discussed my torch-carrying for her, I continued off home, which given where my friend lived, made the journey somewhat longer - so I whistled old tunes, one hand in pocket, and puffed for another half hour - until the bloody thing went out and I'd left my matches with another friend.

I've still got the other No. 3 unsmoked, waiting for a sufficiently celebratory event. And for £6.50 (as well as the fact that I don't know anywhere locally that sells them), I have high standards for said "event". I think getting laid qualifies...

[194]

I Am Stronger Than Mensa

I don't think there's ever been a greater contrast in the music I've listened to: Faster, Manic Street Preachers, The Holy Bible, 1994 followed by Wichita Lineman, Glenn Campbell, Wichita Lineman, 1967 (lovely drumming at the end). I hold that up as a sign of my musical diversity, and I'd put on some late-50s doo-wop if I was in the mood.

Since the world continues to try and crush me into submission, I look to the Manics before they became middle-aged stadium rockers - ie, The Holy Bible era.

[On Top of the Pops] lead singer/guitarist James Dean Bradfield [wore] an IRA-style balaclava as part of the band's new military image [...] The band have said since that the reason for this was because they [...] believed that having a unified, militant image would bring them together again. (Wiki)

Draw strength. You'd think I'd get depressed listening to THB, but it's oddly the other way around. That also applies to The Smiths - contrary to people's conception that The Smiths are inherently depressing, Morissey made some very clever and funny songs. It's probably not the music that's depressing, it's the context.

[204]

The Push and Shove

Selbstmörder, Édouard Manet, 1877

I can't summon the will to go to college. I went in this afternoon to read the papers (as last Friday), but I didn't go to European Studies, even though I like that class. I'm not going to Psych or Sociology anymore, since I wasn't enjoying those and when you've failed the course, like moi, you can go to whatever classes you want: It's only after you lose everything that you're free to do anything. At least until June 9th. I should probably use all that free time to write that optimistic series of posts I've been meaning to write for about 3 months - might go some way to explaining why I, and the rest of society, can't be bothered with anything anymore. I'll need to go in tomorrow since my brother doesn't have another exam until Tuesday.

[149]

Why Do You Say No? (I Refuse)

I fail to see why I should write at length about something I have verbally demonstrated that I know, and that everyone knows I know - just because the SQA is an inhuman statistical analysis machine, stratifying adolescents into the dysfunctional society their predecessors created. If that doesn't demonstrate education isn't about learning, you really haven't learnt anything.

So I'm supposed to bite my tongue, pass all the subject outcomes, go through uni... and then I can go down the different avenues of thought posed by the regimen topics of formal education.

I just failed Intermediate 2 Modern Studies, but they let me do Higher Modern Studies. I almost passed NC Social Sciences, but they let me do HNC Social Sciences. The teachers at school and the lecturers at college actually know me and my intelligence. The SQA, however, knows me as a 9 digit number with letters assigned by the percentage of correct answers from exams. ie, it does not know me.

"It is a miracle that curiosity survives formal education." – Albert Einstein

Based on a drafts written 20/10/05 and 09/02/06
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The Quiet Life

For years, you could find me up at 4AM on some summer night, 40 or more Wikipedia tabs open in Firefox, trying to read them all and get some sleep, only to follow another 3 links and have more tabs open than before - I meant to come up with a name for that, a few years ago. For a number of months now, I've barely had more than 5 tabs open, and then last night/this morning I was still up at 0530 having finally closed all my tabs and bookmarked any links for later in the day.

Why does it have to happen in the middle of the night? Why not that hellish time between 1900 and 2230 when I'm dying of boredom. Yeah, sure I could go out, but the light! Speaking of which, my obsession of trying to photograph the disc of Sol at sunset goes on. The above's the best shot from May 8th, with an interesting optical effect inside the camera.

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All That We See or Have Seen

A Prounen, El Lissitzky, 1925

From last Tuesday's post:

[...]you can cease to hold particular feelings toward someone overnight (at least, consciously - whether my dreams will betray me...)

Touché, my unconscious mind. I had a dream fairly similar to the one I had a few weeks ago and I was obviously still thinking about the world war research I mentioned in my last post, as the relevant 'act' of this morning's (lunchtime to the rest of you) dream took place at some sort of conference on the world wars, just after the lunch meal. Opposite at my table was her. I looked at her, and once again that was it.

The rest of my dream had something to do with The Simpsons (which I've been watching far too much of lately) and a small stream, which I can't say has been on my mind - can't say there were any red curtains either.

I woke up feeling crap thanks to dreaming of her when I'm trying to fucking move on. I'm trying not to think about it, or I'll end up in a depressing spiral of regret. I've realised that I've just listened to WXJL Tonight twice in a row. I can only hope I speak fluent French in the morning.

Just when I think I'm winning, when I've broken every door
The ghosts of my life grow wilder than before
Just when I thought I could not be stopped
When my chance came to be king
The ghosts of my life grow wilder than the wind

[263]

Transition/Transmission

Last night's thunderstorm must have been cathartic, either that or I went to college because The Padre was off work today, thus being unable to stay at home. Yes, venturing out to an education establishment I haven't been near since April 18th; and before that March 30th - not that I actually went to a class, I just read the papers and did a pit of personal research on World War II.

In fact, my light and (by my standards) happy mood - I'd fatally overdose on happiness if I had a girlfriend, though that would probably ruin this blog - could very well be attributed to the clear and unheavy skies today. I might actually be in the mood to write about humans in a positive fashion - just don't expect that series of posts anytime soon.

He's a European Legacy, a Culture For Today

Roses, Henri Fantin-Latour, 188x

The past week has gone by quite slowly, rather than it's usual thundering pace, which tells me I'm out of another depression. The obsessive tendencies of the past two weeks have stopped.

Last Thursday I sat up in bed at 0340 and wrote another (less vague) hash of Low 4/4, mainly for myself. It was one of those 'teenage disappointment' style pieces I seem to write too often these days - I don't want this to end up a diary. Anyway, it helped me get a number of things off my chest (or more accurately, one person out of my mind). It's somewhat disturbing how easily you can cease to hold particular feelings toward someone overnight (at least, consciously - whether my dreams will betray me...).

I'm thinking about getting my hair cut... On an almost totally unrelated note, I'm just thinking, did Bowie make instrumentals fashionable (particularly ones that flow into the next)? The Human League's first two albums (1978 and 1979), Spandau Ballet's Diamond (1982), Simple Minds' Empires and Dance (1980), and Ultravox's Vienna (1980) have them.

[187]

I Fall Into the Wide Screen

Am I the only person who puts on Return of the Jedi before they go to bed, just to see Leia's braided hair in the last half hour, and uses VLC's snapshot function like I'm armed with a dozen rolls of film? There's a bit around chapter 37 on the ROTJ DVD where Han gets angry with C3PO, and Carrie Fisher smiles at something happening off to the left of the Camera.

I'll probably get sued for uploading such a high-res screenshot

There's something captivating about that smile. You know you've gone over the edge when you wish you were involved with Leia; hanging around a playpark holding hands, being decidedly cheerier than I am now. I've been refraining from watching Battle Royale as it sent me off the deep end in January.

You'll be glad to know I stopped my constant listening to The Black Hit of Space and WXJL Tonight by the Human Leage on Monday evening. Hell, I might even go to college this week, rather than my planned wander round the cemetary. Now excuse me whilst I dream of Leia...

[194]

Somewhere There's a Morning Sky / Bluer Than Her Eyes

Time for a customary middle-of-the-night, blurry-eyed, half-asleep, doing-fuck-all but not in bed even though I'm fucking tired stream of conscience post. I've been listening to selected pieces from Bowie's 1976 Station to Station album. I too have stopped blinking - and I think I'm approaching the sort of mental conditions that precipitate the formation of such an album... "It's not the side-effects of the cocaine / I'm thinking that it must be love." Currently I'm listening to Human League's WXJL Tonight (from the 1980 album Travelogue - not the shite pop of the mid 80s they put out after Marsh and Ware left to form Heaven 17) over and over again (3 hours as of 4AM in rotation with The Black Hit of Space). There's something captivating and disturbing about it. "I don't want you to go tonight."

Career Opportunities

What a horrible time to require sustenance. I can't talk my way into another year of college, plus I've come to my sense and realised it's just glorified school, so the future is a bleak spell of "employment" for me. It's a sad day when I consider my options, when in the past I would have stuck The Clash on in the common room and ignored the fascists. Time, you fucking bastard. The times have changed, as have the circumstances. If I want to hang about anywhere, I have to pay to get in. The closest thing to the common room is the college library - especially, and ironically, the silent section.

Thursday Morgenspaziergang

Skidging again, I set off and let the wind guide me. I've lived in this area for 6 years now and been going to school in this area since 1991. I had no idea the Golf Course entrance was up the road and I had no idea there was a lane and a stream up that way too. If only I had known that then.

I was going to see if there was another way into the cemetery, but I forgot about it when I discovered Peile Lane - it's a toss up whether to pronounce it as in John Peel or Edson Arantes do Nascimento. Anyway, having forgotten about my intended cemetery wonder, I decided to see if I could walk up the Lyle Hill and the view of the Firth. Except, I forgot the camera. And I stopped at what I thought was halfway (turned out the top was right around the corner).

Take this Google Earth landscape view

Crossed with this Deacon Blue album cover

...and try to imagine the view. Dammit, a camera describes it more accurately.

[182]

Away 4

I'm pissed off. The Sun is rising in a beautiful orange glow out the other side of the plane. Yet again, I, the one with a camera, am screwed out of photographing it by being on the left hand side of the plane. There isn't even anyone looking out the windows at this cosmic display. The best I got was photographing the pre-dawn glow on the taxiway.

Las Palmas Sunrise, Prij, 2006

Surrounded by peons! It's about 8AM now and I'm enjoying this silent film being shown - Buster Keaton's The Cameraman. Much fucking better than that You've Been Framed style crap they had on again.

Away 3

In 6 days I've clocked up 30 minutes of time in the pool. The holidays since leaving school have been quite landbound. I don't derive a lot of entertainment from getting wet anymore.

Similarly, when the students of the college walked out of classes over staff cuts for an hour last month, I would have been at the front leading the protest. Instead, hanging around the back of the crowd, staying away from the cameras, I was dropping a few jokes in light discussion. I was cold and would much rather have been in the library reading The Independent. Is this the same person who got himself deliberately suspended in Sixth Year? Twice as bright...

Where's Wally?

H5N1 From Above, 1610
20 minute ago I was listening to Ride of the Valkyries, drifting in and out of Apocalypse Now fantasies. The pool area has a bit of a pigeon problem - rather that than a roach problem, of course. They hobble about looking for food scraps. Every so often one will swoop low over the pool, sometimes landing like a UH-1 on the other side. Those birds fuel the fantasy more than the occasional helicopter over the bay.

[201]

Away 2, What Should I Take With Me To The North?

As has become traditional over the last few holidays, the late evenings are occupied with a film from Sky Movies - tonight was a modern favourite of mine, The Day After Tomorrow.

Toward the end of the film, I was reminded of the fact this I've always felt more comforable in the cold. That led to a more disturbing thought - a sort of irrational sense of national pride. That irrational feeling made me put Idlewild's 100 Broken Windows on. [03:20, Track 3, "These Wooden Ideas"]

The only explanation can be found in music:

"We love the Winter/It brings us closer together"
Manic Street Preachers, The Masses Against the Classes, 2000

Is it customary for Scottish bands to sign about the cold? Listen to Build a Fire by the KLF and you'll begin analysing Franz Ferdinand lyrics.

[140]

Away 1, Continued

Well, I didn't sleep for that last hour on the flight. I couldn't find the energy to continue with this either.

The next character from the departure lounge was a Spanish gentleman, probably in his early 30s. In tring to describe him, I get an image of Guy from Green Wing in my head. Just imagine him tanned and wearing an orange jumper and blue Clarkson-esque jeans. He received a call on his phone and then went on to talk fairly loudly in Spanish and wondered aimlessly around the lounge whilst talking.

Away 0.5: Exploration

Arguing with the birthday-taxpayer yesterday evening, I hit upon that the present is infinitely crappier than the predicted future because his generation failed to change anything: namely, going to the Moon (or not going, to be more accurate). The taxpayer brings in the cost - because they started analysing everything for cost-effectiveness. 'People are starving in Africa' - because you insist they pay back ridiculous loans from the 60s despite the people you elected holding the G8 summit and agreeing to ease the costs - that was only last fucking June. 'Let's fix the problems on this planet first' - You've had over 20 years to do that. 'There's nothing on the Moon' says the Six-O'Clock News viewer - oh, apart from Helium-3 which, though fusion, would slash Carbon emissions from energy production immensely.

Having won that, as indicated by the line of discussion ending, I later broght in the fact that Columbus did not discover America: not because the people living there already discovered it, not because the Vikings stumbled on it, but because Columbus died denying he had found a new continent. I then posed a question: Should Columbus have gone to the Americas when the Old World was still plagued with a myriad of economic, social and political problems? We agreed the Americas were better off unknown - but we needed something to distract the people from the aftermath of the Reconquista.

[237]

Away 1: Airborne

It's highly unusual to be in a plane at this time of year. I find myself in a June-mentality - though what that is escapes me.

As I write this, I'm armed with my digital camera. However, the view out my side of the plane consists of various shades of blue fading to black. Meanwhile on the other side, a vibrant red sunset is in progress. El Capitan says we're over Belfast already, which I was about guess when I finished that last sentence. WTF is 32K Feet? The European flight crew's minds have been poisoned by imperial measurements.

Belfast, Prij, 2006

It's Been One Week

There was a lot of sneezing and coughing last Friday (24th) afternoon at college. Perhaps that's where I got it from, regardless, I was fine right up until about 8PM when, despite being in the presence of a fully lit gas fire, I felt very cold. By midnight I couldn't stand it and went to bed - an unusual move on my part.

Limited Capacity

The UN Convention on Biological Diversity has said that humans have pushed the limits of what the Terran ecosystem can handle. I could have fucking told you that. I could have also told you that we need to do something about this now. Not lay out progress targets for 2010, because like all great progress targets (Kyoto Protocol, Live8, The Middle-East "roadmap" to Peace, ad infinitum) they won't be met. I know it, you know it, the delegates who sign such agreements know it.

Choice: Shit/Shite

Pepsi has filed a lawsuit against arch rival Coca-Cola over an advertising campaign which it says is false and deceptive
BBC News

Who would have guessed an advert could possibly be deceptive? It's the whole fucking point of the advertising industry. Wow, my breath doesn't smell, but it sure itsn't minty fresh! I think I'll buy some refreshing chewing gum so I can have trendy 20-something friends - the variety you see in Pringles, M&Ms, Wrigley's, Coke, and promotional tie-in adverts.

You must have seen that awful chewing gum advert where the guy is in a subway station (plainly an American one, because I've never seen one in this country that stank of America so much - hey, we all speak English) and he gets out his chewing gum and everybody becomes friends, because everyone likes receiving gum from a stranger... A stranger's just a friend you haven't met. Makes me want to vomit.

[164]

Political Princess

I was just watching my second hand (fairly scratched) copy of The Empire Strikes Back on my computer (since the PS2 is a paperweight these days) and it struck me, Princess Leia resembles someone...

Princess Leia, The Empire Strikes Back

Yulia Tymoshenko, October 2001

I've always much preferred Leia's appearance in Episode V, compared to the world's obsession over the metal bikini in Return of the Jedi. That was just crass, but at the same time I'm a guy, so I also think it's one of the greatest moments in cinematic history.