Category: Random

So I’m doped up to the eyeballs on Nurofen Plus because the whole right hand side of my mouth is convulsing in tooth related pain. All my teeth can’t start hurting at the same time, so I’m assuming that it is jaw-related or a trapped nerve or something. Pain clarifies a lot of things and clouds a lot of others. The Adrenalin released alone opens up entirely new vistas of aggression and potential violence. Resentments seethe and expand to fill the available space. Given freedom to roam they stop attacking one’s self image and take to the streets looking to start a fight.

“Do I listen to pop music because I’m miserable? Or am I miserable because I listen to pop music?” [Eh?]

Hello, my name is Tom. I have not slept with you. Do you understand? I have not slept with you. Let’s make this very very clear. Whether you think it is reasonable or not, I am prepared to sue you if you say that I’ve slept with you. Do you hear me? And what do you think is a reasonable amount to sue for? $10,000? $100,000? No, I’m afraid you’d be wrong. $1,000,000? $10,000,000? No. I’m afraid I’m going to sue you for $100,000,000 because I am so incredibly neurotic about being thought to have slept with you. Do you understand me now?

Finally someone has had the balls to write a long, considered and well thought-out riposte to the endless repeating saga that is accusations of link whoredom, web-elitism and self-important back-slapping wank. Every community of creative individuals – particularly thosed based in such a collaborative space as the internet – suffers these problems at times. And ‘as above, so below’, you don’t have to be a particularly important or significant individual to have run foul of it on occasion. So thank you, Mr Zeldman for “Circle Jerks”.

The more books we read, the clearer it becomes that the true function of the writer is to produce a masterpiece and that no other task is of any consequence. Obvious thought this should be, how few writers will admit it, or having drawn the conclusion, will be prepared to lay aside the piece of irridescent mediocrity on which they have embarked! Writers always hope that their next books is going to be their best, and will not acknowledge that they are prevented by their present way of life from ever creating anything different.

Every excusion into journalism, broadcasting, propaganda and writing or the films, however grandiose, will be doomed to disappointment. To put our best into these is another folly, since thereby we condemn good ideas as well as bad to oblivion. It is in the nature of such work not to last, and it should never be undertaken. Writers engrossed in any literary task which is not an assault on perfection are their own dupes, and, unless these self-flatterers are content to dismiss such activity as their contribution to the war effort, they might as well be peeling potatoes. [The Unquiet Grave]

In honour of Meg‘s impending mental breakdown, I hereby declare this day to (for once at least) not be ‘all about me’, but instead to be ALL ABOUT MEG. All posts should be about how wonderful she is, and how much we love her and all that kind of stuff, else she will hack us all apart with carving knifes. This is the voice of the Nerditons.

Apparently I set the video for FarScape, I own Babylon 5 on DVD, I have the Space 1999 fansite in my “Favourites” folder, but I’m not really in it for the sci fi, I just like watching alien totty prancing about in jumpsuits. Although this is perfectly acceptable behaviour for a fourteen-year-old, apparently, I might want to try weaning myself onto someone more adult: Charlie Dimmock, say, or Jennie Bond, the BBC’s court correspondent. [I love Seethru]

My daily SeeThru love continues [Subliminal: Give me a job] with this stunning feature on the British film industry and the latest Guy Ritchie project Capers and Capability.

Life Lessons for a Megalomaniac: It’s not important what you do. It’s just important that you do something. Be Churchil, be Stalin, be the Unabomber, be Marie Curie, be Oskar Schindler, be Jack the Ripper. Be big, be bold, build it up, burn it down. Being mediocre is no longer excusable. The revolution will never come. Nothing you do will matter. You’ll never produce anything ‘good enough’. You’ll never do anything that truly ‘satisfies’. Stride the city at night like a god. Get yourself killed.

Following a long and involving conversation over AIM with Davo, it has been established that I have to start a band called The Arsehole Puppets. Either that, or he has to write a book called The Blinding Power of the Arsehole Puppets. The phrase ‘Arsehole Puppet’ having come up with regard to those people who put themselves completely in the power of people who really don’t deserve it, just so they can be treated badly.