I’m going to LA on Saturday via Virgin Atlantic, and I’m really looking forward to it. Unfortunately I am so bored and frustrated that I honestly don’t know if I can make it to Saturday without stabbing someone through the heart with a blunt pencil.
Thank you so much to Stefanie Noble, Herkimer High School Class of 97, perpetrator of fiendish thingy and progenitor of stef.net. You know what for!
What is green politics for? Is ‘saving the planet’ really worth the effort? And is ‘saving the planet’ really what we’re talking about anyway? If we are honest, people who talk about saving the planet are essentially talking about preserving a world inhabitable by humans. Think of it this way – a few large amounts of time ago, some big thing hit the planet. The consequences of the ‘big thing’ (I think it was Disco) wiped out many thousands of species. Among these species were the dominant life-forms of the time (Estate Agents). In fact, all that was left was a large crater and an opportunity for cute balls of fluff to slowly occupy the world. The death of the dominant life-forms (or more realistically the transformation of the atmosphere of the world into something uninhabitable by those life-forms) did not result in the end of life on earth. It just shifted things in another direction. And a sexier direction at that.
And while we are at it, why should it matter that life should die out on earth? Does energy die? Do molecules die? No, like good jokes, they just get bashed around a bit and then put to use again in a new form. Face it, we live in a great moral vacuum of remorseless emptiness, and I for one wouldn’t have it any other way. So if you could please stop waving those little plastic guilt-mollifying money-cannisters outside my face every morning on my way to work, I’d be really grateful – I don’t care about the Pandas or the Badgers or the Trout. If I was in the mood to give money to anyone it would be these people, and frankly I’m not because I fear they might not be quite normal. [Link courtesy of the Barbelith Collective]
Written for the 2nd Anniversary of Virulent Memes, Graham Freeman presents his personal history of the state of the weblog nation: “Two Years Is Nothing“. These personal histories really appeal to me, but I’d be even more interested in people writing how they are viewing our burgeoning mass today. Perhaps a new project….?
This postcard has nothing to do with my life whatsoever. Honest. Definitely. Courtesy of notsosoft.com/vd.
Right then kids, it’s time to spread the love. Prol has finally hit the ludicrous excessive bandwidth charges that web-hosting companies can charge. And after all the support that I received when barbelith.com caused me $700 worth of damage, it’s time to return the favour. Get her address from her and send her some money immediately
So last night, Luke and I went to a press screening of Hannibal at the Empire Cinema in Leicester Square. He had managed to get the tickets through work, and rang me just before six to see if I’d be interested in going along. I, of course, was. I’m not going to write too much about the film itself, because I’ve already written an epinion about it, which – should you wish – you can read at your leisure: Epinions.com – “Pre-dinner conversational gambits: A repository of wit.”, by H. Lecter MD [Read Luke’s epinion]. Instead I want to write a bit about the experience of going, which was quite extraordinary.
Evidently it is to screenings like this one that make all of London’s medialand come together and worship at the big screen. Within moments of us finding our seats in the huge theatre, Luke had spotted Nick Cave looking winsome and worn with a bad dye-job. Then it was my turn to spot Will Self (who incidentally left the film half way through, causing the people on his aisle no end of irritation). And then as we left the cinema, Luke literally fell over Jonathan Ross, who apparently was not looking his best. It was – all in all – a wonderful foray into media-whoredom that I thoroughly enjoyed!
So Matt goes to the British Museum to take lots of photos and make a web-gallery of the visit, and does he e-mail me and ask if I’d like to go? Does he my arse.
Just in case my distaste for the Valentine season wasn’t obvious to everyone, I hereby present timeout.com’s Valentine’s Cards – all now with added bitterness and frustration and designed by yours truly.
I never really believed it until this moment, but it looks like being mercenary really works. After my charming appeal (and the instituting of the wonderful flashing red thing to my right, I am shortly to receive three presents from my wishlist. Looks like I might deserve the accolade of ‘Best Use of a Weblog for Personal Benefit’ after all.
Of course now I feel absurdly guilty about making such a song and dance about the whole thing. So, whoever has bought me these wonderful gifts, thank you very much – I am very much looking forward to receiving them…
