Archive for April, 2003

Continued patterns of existence

April 22nd, 2003

Decided to come to work for a few days – it’s a three day week with two public holidays wedged at either end – rather than bum around at home. Don’t think I’ll work a full day though. Might piss off this afternoon and do some reading. At the pub. With a beer. If anyone wants to talk hey that’s what my mobile for.

Relatively cheerful this week. Going to see Henry Rollins tomorrow night. Looking forward to Henry goodness. Though I saw he hosting some Fox show about strange experiences or dark tales or something. Which leans toward sell-out country. Hmmm. Worrying.

Otherwise meandering around. Did some edits the wesbite to fix the search function, add a links section and generally tidied up the last bugs from the re-design.

Reading: Neil Gaiman’s ‘Death – The High Cost of Living’

Listening to: A Heather Nova cover of Nick Cave’s ‘The Ship Song’. Slightly odd.

Surreal

April 20th, 2003

Yesterday ran something like this: Went to the Races, drank some beer, lost some money, won some money, lost some money, went to the pub. Drank some bourbon. Then the surreal part happened. A couple appeared outside the second floor window of the pub after climbing onto the roof and awning after getting knocked back at the door. Nice young people. We them climb into the pub. Drink some more bourbon. They invite us to a party. Then they climb out the window again. We go the party. We drink, we mock, we make random witticisms. We get very drunk. We go back to A’s and then sit and wax lyrical whilst slightly stoned. I decide at 4am to go home before I am comatose. I goes home and spend twenty minutes trying to open the front door with the wrong key. Surreal day.

Iai-do

April 18th, 2003

I have a friend who has just started studying Katori which includes the art of Iai-do – a Japanese martial art related to the sport of Kendo. Kendo, which means literally ‘the way of the sword’, actually a relatively new art. Iai-do, which does not translate quite so literally, considerably older. The best translation of Iai-do would probably be ‘the way of drawing the sword’. Though given the long lapse in my use of Japanese its derivation certainly somewhat more complicated than that. It can be traced back to a master swordsman of the sixteenth century, Hayashizaki Jinsuke Minamoto Shigenoubu. The key to Iai-do the drawing of your sword in combination with a fatal cutting stroke against an opponent. A cutting stroke because Japanese swords are designed, unlike European weapons like the rapier and its modern successor in fencing competition the epee, to slash rather than thrust. In Iai-do in one single practised action you go from a sitting or standing position, draw your sword and strike your opponent – preferably killing him. The key to Iai-do two things – absolute focus and perfect balance. Without both the art impossible to master. Iai-do a lot like life in its requirements for mastery.

Insomnia

April 18th, 2003

Not sleeping all that well. Trying to avoid resorting to drinking to me sleep. Currently balancing that wonderful edge somewhere between wanting a drink and avoiding being a drunk. Currently winning the drinking stakes. But we’ll see how long that lasts *sigh* Otherwise doing boring, boring, boring DNS work.

Rachel Corrie

April 16th, 2003

People have derided her as a whose death has been used by opportunistic political players and a naive American college girl who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. But Rachel Corrie died doing something good – defending a family’s home. And she died standing up for real freedoms and defending clearly articulated principles and without need of a weapon to do it.

Kartar.Net V9

April 15th, 2003

New design. Please report all breakages to the management.

Emotionless

April 15th, 2003

Been thinking about emotional responses today. And what we judge as normal and abnormal emotional responses. Started with listening to a Jack Johnson song called ‘The News’ which has an interesting line “why don’t the newcasters cry when they read about people who die, at least they could be decent enough to put a tear in their eye”. And why don’t they? Where the reason in having objectivity about these things? I think that taking that first step toward ‘objectivity’ part of what makes us seemingly unable to see the connections between ourselves and people we watch suffering a screen. We never seem to think about the situation in reverse. How would we feel if those same people were sitting in their houses watching us suffer? Would we want them to care? Would we want them to be ‘objective’?

Reading: Empire Magazine and the last ever Crime Factory

Listening to: The Cure, Jack Johnson, The Waifs, Joy Division, Amiel, Ladytron and Paul Kelly in one of those crazy let us see what the shuffle button does afternoons.

Long weekend

April 14th, 2003

Just got back from . It was a long weekend and I’m a little out of phase today. Weekend has some surreal moments but then that the nature of these things. Saturday was the wedding we went down for. Had a 1pm start and then a 1am finish the following morning. Which as you can imagine involved far too much booze. We piled out of the old Punter’s Club at about 1am and hit Souvlaki King (my one food indulgence because they just don’t have souvlaki in – only a weird variation they call a kebab) and then got into a cab. Wasn’t drunk so much as over-watered I think. Felt kind of stretched Sunday and brain was not functioning overly well but not actually hungover as such. Hmmm. Was a nice wedding anyway.

Love is a many coloured thing

April 10th, 2003

I am, at heart, somewhat of a romantic. Perhaps sometimes cynical. A tad bitter occasion and suffering from occasional bouts of depression. But I believe there good and love in the heart of most of humanity. I believe that human good and love has power over much of the evils of our nature. I also believe expression of that love gives people power over much of the evil humans inflict each other. So I love everyone I can. I love my other half Lucinda. She represents all that beautiful and good to me. I love my parents, my sister, my friends. I love people who live in my past – Joh, Amy, Anna, Saf and many others. I love in the here and now too – Benita, Zac, Gillian, Marcus, Den, Brett, Brent and most recently my friend Jessica. I’d like to think that love has some power. That a good and that it means something. But I am, at heart, somewhat of a romantic.

Love the world … not

April 9th, 2003

In a New Model Army kind of way not in a literal sense with the exception of a small number of individuals. Been a grumpy bastard over the last few days – poor Lu had to put up with me not wanting to talk to anyone or do anything and being a general work-a-holic. Had quite enough of large portions of the world. Tired and finally have the work I needed to do prior to my boss scooting overseas. Now thinking about pissing off for the rest of the week and just getting some sleep. Have fucked my ulcers again by doing the stress thing too. Bottle of Mylanta living my desk again. World not being an overly understanding place. Will stop rambling now and try to regain some focus. Nope. Can’t. Signing off.