Last week I noticed things had got to that part of the calendar that are like the doldrums at sea. The students get this vaguely murderous look in their eye. I think I’ve used this analogy before but it continues to shape. Without saying anything (intelligible) they’re asking why are we doing this, where are we going? And as distant, still clean-shaven and slightly naive captain I say For Queen and Country. When they get too far out of line my first mate the co-teacher is the one to administer the discipline.
There has been no respite this week and my straight razor has become so dull as to be useless. I have also begun to question what I am doing here.
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Advertising here tends to be fairly unremarkable but when I saw this it did rather catch my eye.
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Actually last week was the annual local area speech contest. I had been waiting for this all year. I went to see it last year but we lost. On that day I vowed that next time we would beat those pesky Seolbong kids.
I knew exactly who was right for the job—all year I had been daydreaming about excellently smashing the competition. As it turned out I had very little to do with how things turned out and yet it still went well.
Whoever it was who picked our students picked who I would have. One of them (see right) is a freakin star with the englishes and even wrote the whole speech. It only needed minor cleaning up, which was done by the other teacher.
There was a limited set of topics that could be picked from which resulted in a lot of “kimchi is delicious” speeches, but our student had taken the Seasons & Weather topic and moulded it into a ‘what we can do about the environment’ talk—a master stroke if I do say so, and of which I really only figured out the circumstance on the day. The other thing that really kicked arse about the topic was that she talked about hurricane Katrina and both of the judges were yankees. Last year the judging was done by Korean folk and we had no way of knowing it was going to be different.
The second part was a conversation using the same topic between student one and student two, and that went well too.
Out of the fourteen middle schools that competed, we won. That really made my day. I’m glad I got to go.
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Okay okay I know I’m being extremely irregular about this, but it’s been a mad house around here.
I just wanted to take the time to say How good is velvet? What an amazing thing. I’m sure that when they invent spaceships that are good enough to hang right in front of black holes, they will find that the reason why no light can escape from them is because they are made of velvet.
I would point to the wikipedia entry on velvet, but in this case I find it woefully inadequate.
I want to go on a tour to a factory where they make the stuff. I just can’t imagine how it happens.
I think I am going to get a jacket made out of blue velvet—really dark blue.
I’m coming down with something otherwise I’d write more. More about velvet.
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Some bloggers anonymously disseminate irresponsible and untrue information via the Internet, bringing about very bad influences not only to individuals but to society as a whole. …
Here is what I was looking at Fri nite : 1, 2.
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Its true, the years have not been kind to me.
I’ve seen thing, things no man should have to see.
You hear that? That’s the sound of the world’s smallest violin.
I was sick. I was down. I bin down.
I’m trying. I’m trying. I’m trying. I’m trying. I’m trying. I’m trying. I will try.
I left my wallet in El Segundo
Left my wallet somewhere
my horse has a cold
My head is cutting circles
I have my hundred carpenters my own
I really don’t have anything to say. I’ve just run out of things to say. There’s nothing but mental post-it notes left.
– at the moonbase across the road I watched them unload of a truck a tracked, earth-digger thing—without ramps. It’s possible to be quite creative with one of those things, using the digger as one big arm, the way a gorilla uses two arms.
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When I saw this I thought of National Lampoons Vacation.
The progenitor at the joint I werk at kicked off earlier this year so they got this monument. But it can’t be revealed til fri the 13th.
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Flow on from the last post, to commermorate the times, here’s Luke Vibert’s remix of
atomic moog (taken down as of 5/2/07 – YS). It’s good fun!
Ah, I can’t help but feel a little regret, because you know, a man can change – his opinions, his tastes, his level of patience. I speak of a night some two years ago, going to see the Aphex Twin playing in st.kilda with the luke vibert supporting. And how – oh how enthusiastic and wound up I was for the main attraction to begin that I stood against the almost non-existant barrier at the front of the P.O.W. upstairs ‘black box’ and screamed get off get off! at mr.vibert. If it had only been this I may have forgotten the incident by now, or at least have let it fade into a string of semi-weekly in-public humiliating fuck-ups.
But no, and I blame caffiene, I started warbling and quaking and the fence gave way and I went crashing forward into that big bench they put all their stuff on. I broke his apple laptop. Man, that was bad. I got kicked out.
So anyway, now I like teh vibert a whole lot!—enough to get the music off the internet. Well, I did buy one CD 2ndHAND.
Have a nice Day.
For an orphan, my chuseok main day (fri.) wasn’t too bad. Like other times I got invited over the road to the landlord’s joint—I E that is My homie the zen monk at his palatial temple. Unfortunately my mortal enemy, the old woman from next door, was there too but she was in a good mood so it was sweet.
The monk did try to poison me after lunch, but you just gotta roll with the punches like that—it’s the zen sense of humour, you see.
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Further on a recently brooched topic; the little cars on Mars are now taking pictures of each other. I guess there was nothing else left to do.
It’s been a warzone around here the last week or two. Me against the mosquitoes. I can’t remember if I ever mentioned the cars that ate Paris scene I saw out the window occasionally, but the short of it is that there was this little truck that would periodically drive around spewing insect fumigation. It hasn’t been around for ages. There’s a slim gap between the sliding wire screens on the window.
Everynight mozzies would wake me and bite me, but y’know they’re not like anglosaxon mosquitoes because they never seemed to withdraw blood, just leave an itchy-bite and then go make another.
Night after night I would lay there in the darkness, hitting myself in the head trying to squash them. I’ve resorted to chemical warfare—I got a can of raid and sprayed the window frame with it. Also a can of less toxic orange-smelling stuff which is good for close combat – way more effective than trying to squash them with hands. Anyway, I’m winning – the last two nights have been peaceful.
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From thge future, I tell you. I tell you:
– The liscence plate on Patrick McGoohan’s car at the the start of ‘The Prisoner’ does indeed not
read, ‘art rock’ as you are presently verbally pressing upon anyone who will will listen. Believe me, through this decided course of action you are presenting an image of yourself that is more comical than you could hope to realise. There are photos of the saturday afternoon you spent pacing up and down subway carriages talking at the curious and the indifferent alike.
Moreover, a causal pivot-moment is approaching where you will, yet again, be spouting off the art rock fallacy but this time it will cost you your credibility to those dearest to you.
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I was at a Happy Mondays gig. It seemed to more of some kind of christmas pagent than anything. Like at the Bay City Plazza in Geelong, excecpt, somewhere in England. I had some kind of crappy digital camera and was moving in to take a photo of Shaun Ryder who was playing the very bottom notes on a piano with one hand and eating something with the other. I called out so he would look up, but I accidentally said his brother’s name, Paul, instead. This no doubt endeard him to me.
Later, we were all in a limo, and heading for the airport or something—I said, so you don’t live in England anymmore…? , dumbly.
“No, New York. That’s where all the telly is” – he says. Like duh.
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