Extrinsic 7: Someone, Somewhere in Summertime

Yesterday I went parasailing on the boat trip. Was all right, not really a raving review. I've burnt my knees quite red since I forgot to grease-up with Factor 50. As ever, one was enjoying the imagined company of young ladies. There was a girl I thought was German reading her book. I could have serenaded her with a bit of "Ich, Ich bin dann König!/Und du, du Könnigen!" Need I mention any interaction was exclusively in my head? She was as English as the rest of them anyway.

Extrinsic 6: He-La-Hu

Clyfford Still, 1957-D No. 1, 1957

So five minutes ago all hell breaks loose. I've not got my glasses on, people are rushing out of their seats screaming - hysterical women over-reacting. I hear a bang (or something like it), and you can draw your own conclusions from which I had to make my own conclusions in zero to instant, self-preservation kicking into action.

Media exposure to the self-destruction of humanity invokes predetermined scenarios. And half-way through this, I'm informed the two English drunkards are thumping each other again. In the past two days there's been a big increase in the number of people at the hotel what with the English holidays fraying the seams. Unlimited alcohol is a great idea. You can't take the English anywhere.

[128]

Extrinsic 4: Doctorin' The Tardis

When you think Friday Thirteenth, you think of Doctor Who. Naturally. Whilst some barely-related-to-the-theme singalong "classics" were rolled into a "mega mix", I noticed one of the young waitresses standing at the sides watching the show for a few minutes before heading off to gather more empty cups. I don't know how well her English is, or whether she understood what the fuck was going on. I myself had little clue as to what Bohemian Rhapsody had to do with travelling back to 1930s India.

Extrinsic 3: Autosuggestion / It's Coming Home

As evidence against humanity, I cite Thursday night's entertainment. Round One of this "Game Show" involved an entertainer reciting the slogan or catchphrase of a product or business and audience members running onto the stage to name it.

Cogito ergo sum I'm lovin' it!

The dire connectivity of the hotel is compounded by the lack of any quality English-language newspapers. All there is, as ever, are Murdoch-owned kidznewz or imitations thereof. A single star outshone by a billion little lightbulbs that blink. The one decent publication is the copy of Private Eye I bought back in Glasgow.

Cogito ergo sum We love it!

The "entertainment" as I speak consists of having a bunch of sassenachs imitate some Scots sayings and activities: namely caber tossing, and saying something like 'Och aye the noo!'. If I see another England flag tatooed or emblazoned across a beachtowel...

[148]

Extrinsic 2: Bit Shifter

I've ditched the PDA. The only reason the batteries last is because a button cell can happily keep the CMOS ticking over. I'd really need to get a modern Lithium powered one.

I'm reading Neuromancer and much like Case, I dream of being back in cyberspace - as with any disconnected drone.

Extrinsic 1: Which is a Building, Which is on Fire

Venus Above Her Birthplace, Prij, 08/07/07 20:43 EEST

Having boarded and seen the leather seats, I was hoping the space between them might just have increased. If anything, they've crammed more into the same space. My brother points out that the brace position is difficult to adopt. As is sitting at a minutely different angle. I tried to see the bright side, Para.

As Glasgow is my local airport, I was expecting to see some damage from last week's incident. But there was nothing visible. However... increased security checks, and armed police, and the Kafkaesque nonsense going through the x-ray machines. I already had to remove my belt in the line, I just walked through without removing my trainers. I suppose three armed guards standing in the one place covers the need for cattleprods.

The sun has set beyond Aphrodite beach and it really is a spectacular view - Venus riding above an infinitely deep crimson curtain. Now that I've got a 512mb card for the camera, it's time to go insane with exposure modes.

[171]

I've Got Plenty of Java and Chesterfield Kings, But I Feel Like Crying. I Wish I Had a Heart of Ice

In the Venusberg, John Collier, 1901

Time was I would get preoccupied trying to recall the rest of a dream from the one segment that popped into my mind in the mornings. It finally prompted me to start writing them down while I could remember them - mostly because some were quite entertaining or deeply fascinating. Then there's the black dogs which sit on my shoulder all day.

I imagine exiles dream of home but wake up with the same feeling. Her face fades under the inertia of time. Just the name is enough to bring the feeling back for a few minutes of rapid eye movement. Eventually, as always, I wake up with that elated feeling in my chest which within seconds veers to obliteration of the soul as reality thumps me square in the heart.

Probably explains why almost all songs are about it. Call me Deacon Blues.

[144]