don’t trust anyone over thirty, except me

That’s right, I’m the birthday, I’m the birthday, I’m the birthday boy or girl. And it’s one of those numbers where I’m tempted to start comparing my life to that of the normal man’s. But I won’t because thiings are always going forward or backward and sliding around or staying still.
Sure i don’t have a job n’ car n’ partner like the norms, but that doesn’t worry me. What is worth stopping to think about is that I still have the same head I had when i was eleven. I found this the other day – the first ever diary i kept, starting mid-1985 and kept regularly for all of two weeks:

Thursday 13 June,
Since it is a 13 I thought it might be bad luck. I had a stacker on the roller-skates. I think my teacher could be rollin in the cash I have one reason why I say that, she has a number plate that says VB and that is her initials. Here is some other things with V.B.: Vic Bitter, Vampire Bat
Aircraft: 4
Today was pretty normal.

Wednesday 19 June,
Today i got the June Mad and it is a spechel rock issue out of my pocket moneny. I am adding a new segment called the school report that will tell you about school. By the way the spy mission is on Tuesday the 25
Aircraft: 4
by the way this was not written before the dinosours were around.

Thursday 20 June,
Today two of my Pacer rubbers and my Pacer were stollen    my suspects are virgil, Tim k, Shane, David and russel    Tim and Shane have each got one of my Pacers rubber each. I am not sure but I think Virgil has got my pacer so I have taken out all of my good things out of my pencil case in case they get stollen too. Today I tried out my boat at the dam. It sunk
Aircraft: 5

The rest are mainly about a girl i had a crush on and even after 19 years are still embarrassing. I counted aeroplanes because this was not long after the family sox had moved from a 5 year stint cash-cropping early strains of high-grade skunk deep in the remote south west, to smalltime gun-running in the hip off the leg that is the Mornington peninsula. Steel birds were a novelty. Back down there, the only plane I’d seen was some old puddle-jumper that’d crashed into the jungled cliffs of Port Cambell. It became the central object of worship for a cargo cult that sprang up not long after.

I don’t know. Things aren’t always what they seem. I’m not writing this. I’m not here right now. That’s not even me.

he loved colour and he let it show

Believe me, you probably wouldn’t want to read anything I post at the moment anyway because I’d keep slipping into essay-speak, “While, such as, contrast this with, however, however however, yet blablabla”. It’s ugly. I gotta get me some new words. I vowed to myself that until people start saying “moreover” in the milkbar then I will never write it. Now there’s not even any milkbars.

On the last assignment i got back—make that the only assignment I got back – how d’ya like that for a clevernation education system—one of the comments the marker left was, “Use academic language”, and I’m like, Pfft, how do you think that expression, “well, it’s academic now” = it DOESN”T MATTER .. came about??? Because the academy shut itself off from the normal man.

It’s probably only because if telly that normal people know what psychology is, and I reckon that on average, twice a week for the last two n’ a half years people have arxed me, “so what’s communication studies?” and y’know what? I STILL DON”T KNOW.

___

I see there’s some paintings by the Impressionists on tour at the moment. I don’t know a whole heap about art but I’ve always been able to identify with VanGough due to his craziness. I’ve got cut out pictures from calendars and magazines all over the joint here.

It struck me the other night while watching A Clockwork Orange that I tend toward anything that’s nicely exaggerated. Afterall, art in any form will always be some kind of facsimilie of life, so why bother trying to make it like reality when it clearly isn’t? So I thought clockwork was pretty good, – the way the main charcter just lay there with his mouth open waiting to be fed etc.

And Vincent’s bright colours. Nice.

Y’know it was when the Manchester sound went into decline, around ‘93 that Bristol expanded, and now ‘unemployed yoof’ has fallen to no.3 on Britain’s main exports. Behind no.1 what is loosely termed ‘Documentary’ – but often are done in collaboration with US-based media companies and contain just as much CGI as real footage. No.2 with a bullet is these things I’ve mentioned before – saucy recreations/dramatisations of various periods in the last 600 years.

They should do a sitcom based on the time when VanGough and Gauguin were housemates in the south of France.

Gauguin: Vincent, have you seen my new tube of ultramarine?

VanGough: I threw it in the fire!

{Laugh track}

Gauguin: You did what?!

VanGough: It kept talking at me and it wouldn’t shut up—

{laugh track}

VanGough: wouldn’t … shut… up [anguished]

{audience: awwww}

more news at eleven

I mentioned last year how the channel ten weather guy, mike larkan, often does the roaming around bit popping up here and there to do the weather.

Well he’s still out there and I’m experiencing a new kind of anxiety because it’s cold, dark and rainy and he’s out there with hands firmly stuffed in pockets, telling us how cold its gonna get tonight. I think they rented out his office and now him, the sound and camera dudes are permanently holed up in the back of an OB van, ceaselessly rolling along the ring-road and arterials like one of those toxic ghost-ships that’s not allowed to stop in any port

Please channel ten, let him come inside! It’s raaaining! boohoo

Mal Walden is the closest thing to a real-life Kent Brockman I will ever know. I remember when i was six or something, a visit to Camperdown and spotting Mal get out of a red ferrari GTO with I think the weather lady. This was when he was on Ballarat BTV 6. There’s that 1-2 second gap where mike larkan throws back to the studio Mal and Jennifer, and the way I imagine it Mal’s only input in the whole hour is what he can say in that gap; its the only unscripted bit and generally he has some comment on whatever the heck Larkan is up to.

But sometime in this last 24 years mal’s lost a few marbles. Tonight he says, "Venus rising in Gemini", which may or may not have been in relation to Venus passing in front of the sun tomorrow. Maybe Mal’s become a hardcore astrologer. He always says wacky stuff sometimes it doesn’t come out properly at all. I bet he spends most of the afternoon in his office, (out of harm’s way say the real journalists) thinking up what he’s going to say.

I feel sympathy for news readers. It’d be a crap job reading out all the disinfo night after night, even for folks like Mary Kostakidis who get material of a relatively higher quality its still grisly and I’m glad I don’t have to deal with it every night. Some, like Brian Nailor get silently, gradually very resentful and it shows on their faces, and others like Mal just go senile.

I feel bad for mal and jennifer too because they just dont gel together. Always accidentally talking over eachother in that bit and the transition to the end-feelgood story and saying goodnight. Terribly awkward. Jennifer reminds me of that scene out of Batman where personalities starting going toes-up with Joker grins on them.

All of the newsreaders on the ABC try to sound like Brian Henderson. He must take valium or something.

I mentioned last year how the channel ten weather guy, mike larkan, often does the roaming around bit popping up here and there to do the weather.

Well he’s still out there and I’m experiencing a new kind of anxiety because it’s cold, dark and rainy and he’s out there with hands firmly stuffed in pockets, telling us how cold its gonna get tonight. I think they rented out his office and now him, the sound and camera dudes are permanently holed up in the back of an OB van, ceaselessly rolling along the ring-road and arterials like one of those toxic ghost-ships that’s not allowed to stop in any port

Please channel ten, let him come inside! It’s raaaining! boohoo

Mal Walden is the closest thing to a real-life Kent Brockman I will ever know. I remember when i was six or something, a visit to Camperdown and spotting Mal get out of a red ferrari GTO with I think the weather lady. This was when he was on Ballarat BTV 6. There’s that 1-2 second gap where mike larkan throws back to the studio Mal and Jennifer, and the way I imagine it Mal’s only input in the whole hour is what he can say in that gap; its the only unscripted bit and generally he has some comment on whatever the heck Larkan is up to.

But sometime in this last 24 years mal’s lost a few marbles. Tonight he says, "Venus rising in Gemini", which may or may not have been in relation to Venus passing in front of the sun tomorrow. Maybe Mal’s become a hardcore astrologer. He always says wacky stuff sometimes it doesn’t come out properly at all. I bet he spends most of the afternoon in his office, (out of harm’s way say the real journalists) thinking up what he’s going to say.

I feel sympathy for news readers. It’d be a crap job reading out all the disinfo night after night, even for folks like Mary Kostakidis who get material of a relatively higher quality its still grisly and I’m glad I don’t have to deal with it every night. Some, like Brian Nailor get silently, gradually very resentful and it shows on their faces, and others like Mal just go senile.

I feel bad for mal and jennifer too because they just dont gel together. Always accidentally talking over eachother in that bit and the transition to the end-feelgood story and saying goodnight. Terribly awkward. Jennifer reminds me of that scene out of Batman where personalities starting going toes-up with Joker grins on them.

All of the newsreaders on the ABC try to sound like Brian Henderson. He must take valium or something.

<img src=”http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3308/3634662025_94b1bcef1f_m.jpg” width=”157″ height=”123″ alt=”20040606_MERCURY” />

What I like is when someone stops me in the street and asks me for directions and I’m able to give them to them. That makes me feel good. Like I have a point. Also I like delivering things people like to get. Admittedly community newspapers isn’t top of the range here, but at least they’re free, and you’d be surprised what kind of crap people will accept if it’s free. But something quality would be really tops.

I want to get a plastic bowl, spray paint it gold and attach wings to the sides then wear it. Also wings for the heels of my shoes. I already practice the leaning bit. Rather than walk right up to someone I stop at about four feet away, stretch out an arm and counter-balance with a leg swung out in the other direction. I couldn’t find a picture of him doing that on the net, but there’s one in my bulfinch book. Wait until the scanner’s working.

You’d never know it but I updated to nucleus 3.0
Mostly this entry is just shunting so the page load isn’t so big.
My favourite song at the moment is Xcentric by Monolake – nice to get back to ‘pure’ electronic. All the voice bit sample grow tiresome, particular when I hear bits from the same sources. Xcentric sounds like there’s a whole bunch of ping-pong balls in it.
KLF played in Melbourne last night but the first I heard about it was Friday. Sigh.

Q. Are We Not Men? A. We Are DEVO!

Uh, so I was talking to ma on the telephone last night and she asks me what I want for my birthday, and I can never think of anything when I get asked that question. And as always i see something neat now, several hours after ->the energy dome The whole Devo site is pretty good.

Here’s an idea: why doesn’t anyone make a wireless toaster and kettle a la wireless computers? That would save me a lot of hassle.

Uh, so I was talking to Ma on the phone last night and she took the little cat in to get her fixed up. They sliced her open but couldn’t find any of the girl-gear, had a closer look and found out it’s a boy. Bloody hell!
I suppose we were all a little bit to blame in this snafu, and by “we” I mean Mum. The vet said it should be called Kevin instead of Seven. My wanting to call him zorro was right all along — I thought it was a bit odd the way she was into the rough-housing so much.
Because cats and humans don’t have that much in common to talk about (like – we can’t compare fur or claws) so it comes down to sex – as in, ‘you’re a boy, just like me’, or ‘aren’t you a pretty girl?!’ — it’s been getting a lot of the latter this last six months. Needless to say he’s going to have gender issues for some time.

<img src=”http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3347/3634661855_d4f6879bcd_o.jpg” width=”358″ height=”259″ alt=”20040604_GENDERISSUES” />
stock foto of the cat

He’s a bit of a freak anyway — eating rolls, salad and cheese etc. What kind of a cat eats cheese??? A strange cat.

he’s just not trying anymore

Here was two post ideas:
title- ‘Hey, Nice Beaver!’ (a loaded gun line) – about how my food cupboard has been steadily filling up since the start of the year. It’s unusual for me, thus worth writing about.
title- ‘do you feel like DarthVader?’ (line from dj shadow track, usnsure where it’s sampled from) observation about how I can move forward through time if I start Wed. Morn early enough.

The title of this entry is a line from the simpsons – Bart in relation to a ‘where’s waldo?’ book.

I had a social sciences software test on Monday. It’s called SPSS which stands for stoopid psychology sduhdistics software. I almost had a full scale panic attack because I blanked out trying to remember what to do when someone doesn’t indicate what sex they are on a questionnarie. I think I passed it, but it was supposed to be really easy, a “gimmie”, which doesn’t bode well for the actual research methods exam. What the fuck am I doing maths for? Most people figure out what they’re good at, and do that. I figure out what I’m good at, and do the exact opposite.
On the upside, I made smalltalk on the bus afterward. An international student, from Singapore, who sometimes wears this wincheater with a picture of koalas on it. I think that’s totally awesome. 1) We australians take it Bigtime for granted that we live in a koala-filled country.
2) Her wearing that top is, like, My working Definition of COOL. Take something that you’re present-day peers and the mainstream consider uncool, distasteful, loathesome, cheap, child-like, inferior — and make it your own.
The thing is, this can’t be done consciously. I couldn’t wear that top – I would be a pretentious wanker. No one in geelong could pull it off. This town needs an enema. Seriously. I’ve been thinking about making a category called that.
It’s possible that there’s nothing wrong with this town, and it’s possible that there’s nothing wrong with me, but together – it’s disaster.

So anyway, fellow australian, when you get a moment sometime today, have a think about our fantastic and wacky natural fauna.
Peace.