plasticbag.org

Katy‘s better half now has his own weblog. Blog Family Robinson rules demand that they produce tiny bloglets immediately.

I don’t live in America so I’m in no position to judge. I don’t have that much access to the feeling of the nation – I can’t gauge the effects of policy on the ground, but it’s beginning to seem clear to me that no one really likes GW Bush.

I read the Watchmen for the first time when I was about eighteen, and I have to say that I didn’t like it very much. I found it unsettling, confusing, too grim and dense. I was in an escapist mode at the time. Later, of course, I came to love it, even though it feels so very much of its time. But I think my eighteen year old self would have liked the script for the Watchmen Movie That Was Never Made. Even though now I think it’s fairly lame.

Happy birthday to my father, David Harmer, who turns sixty-one today.

Warning: In what appears to have been the mother of all Microsoft Outlook Express Database Corruption Fuck Ups, I have lost every single piece of e-mail that I have sent or received over the last year of my life. Or I should say, I have them all, but they’re corrupted beyond repair and stored somewhere until I can find some way to sort them out. In the meantime, every single important thing that I have received over the last few months has been eradicated. If you sent me something important or particularly interesting over the last couple of weeks then please send it to me again.

Weblogs are more collage than narrative.

Fall in light, fall in light
Fall in light, fall in light
Feel no shame for what you are.
Feel no shame for what you are.
Feel no shame for what you are.
Feel no shame for what you are.
Feel no shame for what you are.
As you now are in your heart.
Fall in light.
Feel no shame for what you are.
Feel no shame for what you are.
Feel it as a waterfall.
Fall in light.
Fall in light, fall in light.
Fall in light.
Fall in light, Grow in light.
Stand absolved behind your electric chair, dancing.
Stand absolved behind your electric chair, dancing.
Past the sound within the sound.
Past the voice within the voice.
Leave your office, run past your funeral.
Leave your home, car, leave your pulpit.
Join us in the street where we
Join us in the street where we
Don’t belong.
Don’t belong.
You and the stars.
Throwing light.
Fast, fall.
Fall in light, fall in light.
Fall in light.
Fall in light, fall in light.
Fall in light. Grow in light.
New Year’s Prayer

Freaky pictures of Ralph through the ages amuse me and scare me and make me check my front and back doors (and all the windows) are locked tight before bedtime.

Another American, during his ‘disasterous’ last visit to London:

So anyone in Los Angeles want to investigate carnal relations with my blonde friend? I’ve decided to become his pimp. I don’t think he has enough fun.