Year: 2000

Interesting quote (I forget where from), only loosly amended:

“Love is a strange thing; it depends what one gives — and sometimes to give means give someone away. Jane Siberry said that, and I endorse it. If they are the fickle whore they seem, they are at least a whore with a conscience. Everything they touch, they destroy, and they like you too much to destroy you. Take their refusal as a gift. Take every experience as a gift. Some come in strange wrapping paper, but they are gifts just the same.”

// SECTION ERASED BECAUSE I COMPLETELY MISSED THE POINT //
Apologies to TECHNORGANIC ™, which is a very elegant and well designed site…

Just a bit of clarification for those of you who have been confused. The thing I wrote yesterday about New York really is from my teenage diary of 1991, which I am planning to start running in concert with my new ramblings. I’ll let you know all about what I did in NY properly as soon as I get a good half an hour to myself in which I’m not working or retching.

Other people who care about Grant Morrison are: Not Enough of Me, Blue Dog, Corn and Death, St Seb, sourground.co.uk, linkmachinego.com, Complete Toss, Pig Inc, Disconnected Zeitgeist, Ghost in the Machine, Cuckoo Kid, Blue Lines, Lacking in Emotional Content, Underbaal.

[In order to promote his cause world-wide, anyone who links to his site will get a mention from me. Just drop me a note and tell me you’ve done it.]

The coolest guy in the world, without any exceptions, is Grant Morrison. He’s just launched his own site, which is extremely informative. Best part of it – the series of photos of Grant with hair: Early Crazy Hair and Later Crazy Hair being particular favourites.

Downside’s Deathwatch is a cash-flow analysis. The death date is simply the day the company will run out of cash, based on their reported liquid assets and loss rate. When the cash runs out, something bad for stockholders has to happen. [Downside’s Deathwatch | via Metafilter]

Today’s most ridiculously obscure waste of column inches comes from Wired News, who have written a three page article on how they’ve decided to change their style sheet so that what was “email” is now “e-mail”. Honestly – I’m a journalist, and I don’t even give a damn about that one…

Tom’s Teenage Diary, Monday May 6th 1991

On plane to NYC now, and it’s about 3.15 GMT. The music on these aero-headphones is bearable (even a bit of TT), but has already repeated itself three times. Plane left Amsterdam late due to one engine having difficulties. Would be OK except the lights and power kept going off.

When I arrive in New York I shall have the honour of being confronted by people demanding to know why I want to go there. From what I’ve heard of NYC, this is a very good question.

I’m not entirely sure that Americans are all that sympathetic to holiday-makers, especially those with no fixed abode once they reach said country. However, I have all the bumph, so I shouldn’t have much of a problem (I hope).

This bald guy in front keeps sticking his chair at me. GRRRRRR…

Whoah! Having my first cab-ride with this amazing guy who I can hardly understand. It’s grey and damp, but not actually raining. It’s quite humid as well. Everytime the car moves suddenly, like, the “gas” (getting into the terminology) sloshes around like hell. First impressions of the USA: Not as bad as I thought! There is a lot of NY that looks like the place was constructed on a rubbish dump. It looks (in places) like all those films of post-“bomb” looting and riots. There is greyness and thousands of cars, barbed wire and dirt, but also a great feeling of vitality and passion.

Whether this guy is actually taking me to the Carlton remains to be seen.

Excerpts from a Subterranean Diary:

You know those horror /slasher movies which are really exciting but relentless and exhausting? The ones where the monster just keeps coming back again and again? The ones where there are many fake resolutions before the final one actually comes around? The ones that even then spawn endless sequels, each of which is slightly more implausible? I bloody love those films.

Feel like crap and seem to be still coughing up nice chunky green blobs of goo. Had this bloody cold all weekend, but kept it at bay by taking vast amounts of day nurse. Since I got back, I thought it was probably best to let the damn thing run its course (I mean I’ve had it for a week now and it doesn’t seem to be getting any better). So I feel like crap. I must look like some haggard mid-50’s bachelor uncle.