Let me eat cake

2004-11-22T14:46:00.000+13:00

Move on, people

This blog will no longer serve to amuse, irritate, or distract you. It is dead to me.

Cheers for reading and commenting. It's been fun. I've had over 12,000 hits on the site and that isn't too shabby for less than a year of blogging and counting the hits.

Ben - it is the thesis. I've 65 days to hand in a good draft. I need to kick arse. My own. Have been treading water for far, far too long. Time to become who I want to become. Or something.

It's all part of my long term repositioning strategy.

Anyway.

Bye.

Dave.

ps new site is http://dave.stuff.gen.nz/wp/index.php. remember to update links, bookmarks etc.

2004-11-19T13:37:00.000+13:00

Death to Bloggy

Although this blog is stumbling ever closer to doom, there may be salvation through resurrection. Thanks to the magic of Mog and Si (once I dutifully 'show him the love') I could get a stuff.gen.nz account. Which would be cool.

Mutually beneficial arrangement. I get my own wang site, they get a blogger who actually knows how to update.

For the love of god, Ben, she's been gone nearly half a week - blog already.

2004-11-18T14:08:00.000+13:00

Death row

I came this close (fingers pretty close together) to deleting this blog moments ago. It got a temporary reprieve due to an NBC camera man getting in the way.

Deleted him instead.

2004-11-16T20:29:00.000+13:00

Muntface

In keeping with my policy of wanting to do work (honestly) but being unable to really do much due to large brick wall a metre from my friggen head [note - this, like Aranui, is metaphorical], I ended up carting Tim around town. Truely, I am a taxi and will be ridden always. Bonus was free pie, coke and world of warcraft for a couple of hours. Awesome.

My character (hereafter known as 'me') was an undead warlock. I named me Muntface after a couple of earlier names had been snapped up. One of the benefits of being a warlock is that you can get a minion after completing a short quest. Minions are cool and one day I wish to get some for real. My Muntface minion was an imp. I'm not sure I want a real imp in real life. He tended to have a strong affinity with fire, and as we saw in a previous entry, Fire and Dave make for comic adventures. Perhaps my minion will be a small dog or child of some description.

I digress.

World of Warcraft is cool. I never really got into the warcraft games as they tended to be overly suck. But this is cool. I can use fireballs to make people burn, and use lightening to make people dead. This is good. Quests aren't too difficult, and I made level five in under a couple of hours. When you die, your ghost runs back to your body - doesn't take long and seems like an appropriate punishment for the death and all. Some people don't have much of an attention span.

Now I just need
1) pc
2) money
3) game
4) to finish thesis.

Please note, above was not in order of importance.

I need game.

2004-11-14T21:18:00.000+13:00

Awesome

I've moved into my new flat. It is good, largely because it involved moving out of my old flat, which was bad. Claire and I put in a rather substantial amount of time cleaning the place, killing the spiders, mould etc, mowing the lawns and doing the garden and getting rid of junk and I have to say we did a pretty good job. Place looked better (far, far better) than it did when we moved in. New flat is cool. Although my room faces south and get very little sun, it is dry. This is good. Usually I can press a cup to the wall and have it fill with water or bees (depending on how thirsty I am). We have a pool table, fooze-ball table, macked out bbq, sky digital, surround sound, dvd action and a cat that runs away whenever he/she/it sees me. Good judge of character. It's also in walking distance to uni. For those of you who thought it was in Aranui - no. It was a subtle ploy designed to make you think I was going to live in Aranui. I didn't think it would actually work, but I'm constantly suprised.

Also awesome was Si tonight with the theatre and the sports and the laughter. Best show I've (yet) seen. Si was Indifferent Man who had to save the world from Shifty Man. Hilarity ensued. As did poor jokes about Christopher Reeve being 'Disembodied Voice'. Emily C and I had a good time... could have sworn more people were going to show.

And on a slightly more grim and depressing note, listen to Elliot Smith's recent 'from a basement on the hill '. Particularly King's Crossing. A bit patchy in places but very very good.

2004-11-09T11:57:00.000+13:00

It could happen to anyone...

Last night started off pretty well. Claire cooked Charlie and I nachos and we sat around drinking ginger beer talking about intellectual issues like the fine lovers of fine love that we are and are known to be. I fell asleep on a big comfy leather lazyboy while Claire made a hat for Cup Day and Charlie played guitar. Haven't had much sleep this week. Good times. Dropped Charlie off and went home to find Peverel was all fine. Bachelor pad! No bachelorette to share it with at the moment, but at it enabled me to do those things blokes like to do when no-one's watching - read Womans Day. Nic called around 11 to ask for a ride back to his place. At the moment Nic has no car and lives close to hokitika. Agreed and we arranged so that he'd call when he was ready. I went back to slaying many orcs in Return of the King on xbox. Very pretty.

Am in the process of moving out and throwing stuff away. Rubbish day was today. It was important I put the rubbish out today.

Nic called at 11.30ish. Grebbed wallet and phone, groped pocket for keys, closed all windows and locked all doors to make sure no-one could get in when I was out and went outside, locking door behind me.

Bugger.

Those aren't keys. That's money. Damnit locked out. Quick, call Nic and explain.

Bugger.

Phone has no money.

Walked, ran and hobbled on my gammy ankle (I'm trying to save my good one) to brothers house, hoping he was still up and could lend me either his car or his keys to my car. I don't have keys to his, and even if I did they were locked inside my flat.... Lights on in Greg's flat - door open, flatmates in their rooms. Knock, open door. Nothing. Wander over to Greg's room. Light on, not home. Probably out drinking celebrating finishing exams and possibly uni. Bastard. Wander around flat some more. Knock and call out. Nothing. Flatmates in room turn their lights out. I could take anything I wanted. Damn morality. Give up finding Greg under couch and don't want to look in his room for keys. Leave flat grumbling.

Five options. Walk to Ben's place and hope he's home. Walk to Charlie's place and sleep on the couch. Walk to Varsity and get security to let me into office so that I could do work and sleep on floor. Walk along Riccarton Road, hope Nic calls and share taxi with him to his place. Or walk the streets and wind up on the otherside of town at Claire's pad so I can grab the one spare key in the morning.

Ankle saw and swollen. I'm a soft pansy. Walk toward Ben's place. Change mind. Walk toward uni. Change mind. Walkd toward town and Nic. Get text at 12.05 asking if I was still alive. Sweet but not very practical. Keep walking. Get phone call from Nic when I got to Riccarton mall asking whether I was still alive. Much more practical. Laughs at me (rightly so). Plan formulated - Nic will get Tim to get him and get me. Start to walk back to flat. Turn into Peverel.

Oh bugger.

Fire.

Flat on street is going up in flames. Looks like wall and kitchen. Call 111. Never done this before. Answer very quickly and I'm put through to fire. Inform dude of what's going on, where it is, etc. He tells me to try and make myself and the fire known to residents. Hobble toward blaze. Fire scares the hell out of me (although in small doses it's pretty). Lights on in house. Door open. Students in backyard surrounding very large bonfire made up of what look like old palalates a couple of meters from wall. Munters. Call 111 and get put through to fire again. Get same guy. Tell him what's going on and apologise. No worries, mate, he says. The fire engines will still come because there shouldn't be anything like that at this time of night. Fair enough. Two fire engine arrive 15 minutes after I first call 111. Impressed. One goes. The other uses hose to put out fire. Cool. Takes seven minutes to arrive, reverse, put fire out, give warning etc to residents (I imagine) and leave. Impressed. Good work fire department.

Nic and Tim arrive after fire engines leave, missing out on the coolness of big red fire trucks. Drop Nic off in Wigram and back to Tim's. Watch him play World of Warcraft. He's modelled his character on himself. Tusks really accentuate his eyes. Fall asleep on couch. Laughed at in morning by flatmates including one I haven't met yet. They leave. Bobby (cat) laughs and molests me.

Now have to get in touch with Claire at the races to get key back to flat to organise the rubbish that won't be put out today.

Random bloody night.

Moral of the story: Ben, Charlie, get yourself a car and a license.

2004-11-08T10:48:00.000+13:00

World first photo

You know that little voice that tells you that you want another drink, another drink, that girl in the corner, or the matches to make everything burn, laddie? Scientists at UCLA have recently developed new technology that can actually photograph that little devil on the shoulder. Early results indicate test subject actively discussing the situation with said devil, who appears to be engaged in song. Transcription of the conversation is not yet available, but may be soon in comments section once Ben (re)learns how to type.

UPDATE: Grandma peacekeeper suspected of being a terrorist.

2004-11-07T16:30:00.000+13:00

Surreality

Have shifted all of the big items out of current flat to new flat, brother's flat, Charlie and Pete's shagpad and Sara's garage. Sara is clearly awesome. Nic helped the shift - supplying the trailer and man-power. My gammy ankle is acting up, indicating that either trouble's a'brewin' or I shouldn't play soccer tonight. Damn stupid fake plastic body. I'll be on the sideline ready to kick a boot into anyone's face, should the need or urge arise. I'm taking the credit for Nic's newfound 'man-power' and will be putting away the 'butch up girly pants' call until further notice.

Shifting flats always disorientates me. As does daylight - which I'm currently seeing more of. Need to shift pasty white skin into pasty bronzed skin.

Family news - which I ordanarily keep away from my public (ha) isn't so flash. The good news is Nan will be shifting up the a resting home close to Mum and Dad. The bad news is that shortly she won't know who we are. Knew this was coming, but still it's not that fun. Saw Mum at the airport today as she's been down in Dunedin and Milton sorting all the affairs out. She's pretty good considering - although she's lost weight and the mortality of her mother has hit home. I feel bad for Nan but worse for Mum. It's almost expected of grandparents but parents are a different matter.

A little odd at the moment but surreality is just a funked up version of reality which I rarely inhabit so all should be good and clear shortly.

2004-11-04T16:27:00.000+13:00

Bugger

Plans to go to New York on a semi-regular basis have stalled somewhat as my chin is still firmly stuck on the floor. I wish the cleaners would do a better job around here. Bush got a majority of the popular vote. Ma-jo-ri-ty. That's more than 50%. It's taking a while for my head to get around this concept. While there were a few dodgy situations - one lady was allowed to change her vote after pressing 'Kerry' on the computer and having it come up as 'Bush' - it seems there isn't the same level of corruption that there was 4 years ago.

In order for us to understand how Bush won, lets look at the reasons voters gave as determining factors in the race.

Morality.
Economy.
Terrorism.
Health care.
Taxes.
Education.

Fair enough. Can't have two men in love with each other while the economy bombs. And the bombs bomb.

*anger*

Still, I win $5 off my old man for calling it. And Margaret Wilson knows where I live.

I just feel sorry for the wolves. Their numbers are bound to go down as the war on terrorism extends to things people saw on the box.

Favourite campaign tactic of the year: 'Kerry will ban the bible if elected'. Classic.

In good news... A.M.P.C. has made the final of the indoor soccer comp. An inspired effort by all involved. Except me as I limped off early in the 2nd half after being taken out by Muntface. Hopefully ankle will be ok by Sunday 6.15 Action Indoor Sports (be there, do it!) or the lads will be without their beloved leader and captain. This is your chance to see Tim 'I am the weasel' Street, Nic 'My ass is not weak' Mason, Johnny 'peow peow' Smith, Hamish 'Come here and say that' Wall, David 'Jumpy' Miller, Andrew 'Andy' Surname, David 'You're pretty for a munter' Searle and Amanda 'do you want ice on that?' Cliff in action. We could even get a trophy. I'm working on our acceptance speech.

2004-11-03T13:15:00.000+13:00

In non-geek news

Ma'a Nonu wears makeup while playing rugby. Hahahahaha. Pansy.

I can't back that up. I've worn (and can put on my own) makeup. But that's not when playing rugby.

There is also an election on. Or something resembling one.

2004-11-01T23:14:00.000+13:00

Dave's authentic long-term repositioning strategy

I'm going on hiatus from you lot. Offline as well as online. I'm severing contact with the outside world in an attempt to delve into the inner world of 'thesis' and 'moving out of the flat'. There are several reasons for this which I will attempt to pass off as reason.

1) Thesis needs love. Current chapter was meant to be 4-6,000 words. Currently 3,200 and only about 1/3 of the way through said chapter. All chapters currently turning into monster chapter. Damnit.

2) Current company way to geeky*. When I can understand Si's joke about a candle being +3 on defensive roles I feel worried. There is a sudden urge to talk beer, rugby and tits, grow a mullet and go around impregnating ho's. That is an over-reaction and my id's attempt to revert back to the summer of 89. Where I was 8. And rather progressive. Steps need to be taken to ensure I don't end up paying child support to twins named Ethyl and Methyl.

3) Fi is in Oz - or will be in 12 hours. This will concentrate the geek factor mentioned above. When she returns I might be able to crawl out of my alpha-male/better-male bunker that will protect me from the current geekfest.

4) Lack of money.

5) Moving out of flat into summer flat of love. Woohoo! There 4 guitars in flat for the 2 of us that can play (in a loose sense of the word) and sweet sweet bbq action. The address is... somewhere out in Aranui.

Friday and Saturday nights should still be good.

All with good intentions. Like Nic and his anti-alcohol/texting/women stance.

Also - election coverage starts at 2pm Wednesday 3rd. Finishes 6pm. Mark Sainsbury is giving us his in-depth knowledge about US politics like the question he asked Bill Clinton. 'Why should NZ care about the US election?' At least we can start on a downer. Most of you will be at work. Suck it. I'll be trying to crawl through a window to the Street's pad and hot tv action. He doesn't know this yet. Shoosh.

Anyway, I'm off to wear a tie to bed.

*geeky. Not to be confused with the nerd-geek continuum. In that scenario 'geek' is good. In this case, geek is not good.

2004-10-29T16:00:00.000+13:00

'We're concentrating on getting to votes to the voters'

58,000 ballots go ~~postal~~ missing.

Undead celebrate first chance to vote since death.

2004-10-28T20:12:00.000+13:00

And now for something completely different

We live in a beautiful ~~world~~ ~~country~~ ... ohh, look, thesis.

2004-10-28T15:50:00.000+13:00

I have an evil laugh

It can be quite useful really. Scares small children and men with weak constitutions. Charlie is currently hiding under his desk. I blame the whisky and cigarettes I chow through for breakfast. There is nothing that really says 'What the? More daylight! Ow man.' like Glenfiddich and B&H. Goes well with most foods as your taste buds starts to malfunction which saves you money because mouldy bread tastes super when you can't taste it. Also has the added bonus of making my voice deep which means I sound more 'manly' and less 'not-that-manly'. Soon I'll be able to cause earthquakes by singing along to ABBA.

Seeing as I'm currently on a health kick, I'm trying to kick coke. I hear you splutter, Tim, Ben, Nic and all you other coke whores. Coke is the devil and diet coke is the son of sam - never realised Satan was also Sam.... It does bad things to you. Like death. And impotence. I can't back that up with any 'scientific' data or 'reliable crown secret witness' testimony or even 'I heard it from a... mate' but surely something as addictive can't be that good for you. Also - good motivation to stop. For some reason guys don't really get scared by a warning 'Your heart will stop if you drink from glass A'. Guys do get scared by warnings such as 'You'll never sleep with another person again - not even yourself - if you drink from glass A'. Of course, both scenarios result in the same result - no sex. Death, however, isn't really synonymous with a lack of sex. Yet. From now on I'll be drinking mostly tea. Iced tea. Hot tea. Green tea.

I'm going to regret this in 30 minutes when I find myself in the corner in a cold sweat shaking and trembling and wondering where the precious went.

Thesis. No time like the present. Attack!

2004-10-23T15:36:00.000+13:00

Survivor: Axis of Evil Edition

Castro fell, broke his knee cap and fractured his arm the other day. This has renewed discussion on his successor. Most people think it's going to be one of his sons - who aren't as talented as he at politics et al. Who wants to bet that when Castro finally shuffles off there will be another Bay of Pigs?

The electoral-vote graph is bouncing around more than a bad bad joke which is below me to utter. So I won't, but you would have laughed nonetheless. The election is on November 2. Coverage in NZ will probably be on Nov 3 with the counting and 'analysis' and the pain and the ow. I can't find any timetables so am just relying on memory from last election. We should do something complete with tv, alcohol and whinging. I can supply some alcohol and whinging, but 14" tv not so flash for this sort of thing. We should have official confirmation of the election after a month of lawsuits and dodgy judicial decisions.

Also, talked to supervisor yesterday and he was rather frustratingly positive about my thesis. 'Plundering of the commons' was an idea he pulled out in relation to the individualist vs communalist food situation.

Argh, I'm talking shop. Tame that beast.

2004-10-21T20:18:00.000+13:00

Jacques Derrida 'Dies'

Which does suck. Although he's been slammed by a number of academics with far more intelligence that I, I've got a lot of time for his ideas on deconstruction. To a point, of course. To blur the line between fiction and reality can be dangerous. But the idea that words can have several complex meanings which even the author may not be strictly aware of is attractive to someone who is examining a POW diary for a thesis, and admires the Annales and microhistorians. It's all about symbols, people.

Gave paper at conference today. And I have to say I'm disappointed. My primary supervisor, internal marker, HOD and a couple of lecturers who I get on with quite well with were there and they didn't really say anything. No criticism or pointed questions. All I got was requests for clarification or 'wow I didn't expect that'. For the love of god critique and criticise me! Suggest more obscure or postmodern texts for me to angst about and cry over. Tell me I'm wrong or hopelessly idealistic, naive and bordering on the arrogant. Don't say nothing! That makes me insecure.

(I don't have issues....)

Never thought I'd bitch about not being slammed.

2004-10-19T21:56:00.000+13:00

Procrastination

It's not like I ordinarily know it. I'm not running around dialing the operator in a desperate attempt to reach destination fun. Nor am I running around trying to avoid work. When I'm at work I tend to just stare blandly at the screen - and you know how creepy people staring at the movie theatre are. Lethargy. Where would we be without it? Depends on what you believe. If you believe in creationism then we'd still be in Eden because we wouldn't have been asked tasting the forbidden fruit (please note, people, the forbidden fruit is the apple and not the woman). In this case lethargy is a decidedly good thing. If you believe in evolution, things get more complex. Take the conversation between several ancient (but strangely familiar) monkeys.

Ape Tim: Ben, hurry up. Time to evolve.
Ape Ben: Yeah, I'll get around to it once I finish reading this scrap of bark. whoa, no. Damn. It was another lizard.
Ape Nic: What? You guys are useless. You always say your going to evolve but never organise your molecular structure.
Ape Tim: Yeah, and do I see you evolving, Ape-boy?
Ape Nic: But it's late and I want to go home.
Ape Ben: I have a strange desire to add sugar to acid, dilute slightly and pour it down my throat.
Ape Dave: Ohh, look, a girl ape.
Ape Ben: That's not a girl, Dave. That's my younger bro-ape.
Ape Dave: Damnit. All us apes look exactly the same. Isn't that James?
Ape Tim: Yeah. He's an orangutan now. Part of his long term positioning strategy. And he's not a girl either. So suck it.
Ape Ben: Argh! My book-lizard is trying to eat my foot.
Ape Dave: Then ... if only we had a conception of violence.
Ape Ben: muh. ow. muh.
Ape Tim: So, what can we do now, before and without computers, mobile phones or Buffy?
Ape Nic: Let's go dance around that big shiny black thing and get the inspiration to hit people with sticks and stones - providing monkeydom with the ability use violence for progress therefore become more advanced.
Ape Tim: pfft. fag.
Ape Dave: Where's that creepy music coming from?

In this scenario lethargy would not have enabled us to evolve to the stage where we can use violence to express our feelings for each other. Futhermore, we'd be stuck in a weird and creepy environment where it was difficult to tell the difference who was a man and who was a woman. This is decidedly bad.

Also, if you believe in Star Wars *Spoiler* It didn't really happen. They never really existed. Not even the wookie.*ENDS* - imagine if Luke was some sort of lethargic whinger who didn't really want to do anything. Ok. Then imagine that Jar-Jar-Binks was some sort of lethargic whinger who didn't really want to do anything. Episode 1 would have been a MUCH better movie.

To conclude: lethargy is bad, not being an ape is good, and Episode 1 does not deserve to be rated in the same 4 star category as Donnie Darko.

I have got to get out more. And indulge in less torpidity. Damn you, torpidity, damn you to muh.

Pie still good.

2004-10-18T16:40:00.000+13:00

Where Dave reviews Fable

I went out and purchased Fable the other day. This was something of a surprise. I didn't think I had the funds but checked anyway and was quite happy to discover that I was wrong by a reasonably comfortable margin. Checking the bank balance and finding it better than what you were expecting doesn't happen as often as it should. I would like to thank my thesis for prohibiting me from having much of a life (although it also reduces available moolah so...).

For those of you who don't know Fable is a role playing game for xbox. You take the role of a small boy who has been orphaned. You are adopted by the Guild of Heroes who train you so that you may wreak vengeance upon those who killed your family and most of your village. At the guild you learn melee skills, ranged (archery) attack and will power (magic). When you graduate you can go into the world and become terribly good, terribly evil, or something in between.

Without going into detail, I was pleasantly surprised by the plot. The game boasts that you can do anything you want - and that it true to an extent... as long as you do the essential missions. You can take guild missions to rid a farm of small and angry gnome-like creatures, or guide some traders through a wood and these help you gain money, experience and renown. Once you've finished these (or before if you're impatient) you can do the essential mission which is based on the plot in order to unlock more minor missions. At first I thought the plot was reasonably obvious with a couple of ok-ish twists. But then I reached a stage where I was knocked back by the overall coolness of the situation. This is a spoiler. Highlight the following if you want to read it (cheers, Miche, for figuring out how to do this). You are imprisoned in a jail when you try and rescue your mother (she's alive!) and all your goods are stolen. You have to figure out how to escape without using your knarly magic skills or weapons. That's not strictly correct - you have to find them armed with only your briefs and a stick (if you can find the stick). The use of atmosphere is quite cool and I became quite angry at the perpetrator (who I already knew was evil). It made me want to turn to the darkside. In this game I'm a bit good - I even have a halo above my head when I walk about! *ENDS*

The distinctive feature about the game is that you can choose whether to be good or bad. The guild of heroes doesn't differentiate between good and evil - they just want you to be good at it. If you do a good deed you become more noble in the eyes of the people. Likewise, if you do something nasty - such as vandalism - you become more evil. The missions also play a role here. One of the first missions is set on Orchard Farm. You can either accept the mission to defend the farm from bandits, or accept the counter-mission to attack the farm with the bandits. Killing bandits good. Killing guards bad. You are rewarded with the appropriate evil-light points which determine how good/bad/middling you are. This influences the way people interact with you. As you walk past townspeople the will often comment. 'He's a good man, to have married' (you can have a wife - or gay husband- in each town, and there is a sexuality section on the statistic screen) or 'Damn, I'd better show him some respect' or even 'I've heard some terrible things about him... Oh hello sir... I was...'. I've got 2 games going - one as good guy (with halo) and one as bad guy (don't have horns yet). You can improve you attractiveness and scariness factors by getting different haircuts, tattoos and clothing/armour. This also impacts on how townspeople interact. I dressed my guy up as a little Nazi with dark leather, buzz cut and sheriff mustache and had people cowering before me. That's kind of cool, but the shopkeepers are more kindly disposed toward people who aren't likely to eat their kids.

The decisions you make do have an impact. I've regretted making a couple of reasonably important decisions because they've ended up slowing me down later on. It's not strictly a black and white world.

Their are quite a few nice touches. Kids worship you as you walk past and pretend they are killing bandits. There is a statistic for how far you can kick a chicken. You can buy a house, rent it out, renovate it, sell it, mount trophies on the wall or live in it with your Mr(s). At the start - before the village is ransacked you are a boy who must get money to buy a present for his sister. You can earn the money by performing good deeds. In one instance you catch a man cheating on his wife. You can either keep quiet (bad deed) and take the gold coin the adulterer offers, or tell his wife (good deed - get gold coin from Dad). I did the good deed first time through and when I went back to the memorial cemetery years later the headstone for the wife was 'Killed before the divorce came through' and the husbands was something equally amusing. If you eat a lot of pies you become fat.

The combat is cool. It is in real time so it has something that I think Gladius lacks. Money has more value than in Galdius - as you're rarely comfortable. The spells are easy to use and the melee can be very cool. The two in conjunction work very well - I'm known as a spellwarrior. I'm not so good on the archery but it's useful on a number of occasions. There is also the usual augmentation of weapons available. The controls are reasonably straight forward although I've got the 'sword' and 'bow' keys muddled in my head and it can be quite frustrating when a bunch of minions are dealing out the pain close range to pull out a bow and arrow.

There are a few things which are frustrating. The manual isn't very comprehensive - which means if I have a question as to what is the significance of decapitations (you can kick the severed head around like a soccer ball) or - how the aging of your hero works - then you're going to be left in the dark. Sometimes - rarely - the game jumps or you find yourself half-in - half-out of a rockface. There are no old women in albion - which means although you age, your wife doesn't. They're all young and most of them want you (unless you look like Himmler). You can sleep with women (or men, I suppose) but you have to be married first. Damn morality I'm going to hell. Actually - it would have been a nice touch to have been able to sleep with someone before marriage and get 'evil' points if they were going to take that whole 'sex before marriage' line. And the Hero appears to be infertile and doesn't have kids. These are pretty minor and by and large the game is very very pretty. If you get cut on the face during a fight you will scar and they will age. I've got some pretty knarly scars and evil dave has groovy scars over his right eye.

Verdict: best game I've seen in a very long time. Just hope it doesn't have a short timeline.

Thesis in corner and cowering. I will own it tonight.

2004-10-14T17:46:00.000+13:00

Damn I feel like I've been hit by a train. Late nights in front of the computer screen and running around... yeah ok jogging... fine then, walking briskly... ok, ok, crying like a baby in the corner during hockey and indoor soccer really takes it out of you. And by you I mean me. Probably should start on the whisky again, but it's been giving me funny looks for a few weeks. Accidentally getting drunk on it while watching some late night John Cusack movie and feeling like sin (the bad kind) the next day didn't help. I don't have a problem. Can give up any time I want.

I've suspected for a while that Tim doesn't really resemble normality. Battling aliens to save the world might have something to do with it.

Thesis going well. Have confirmed today that there was a net increase of 750 lettuces produced at the Spangenburg Unterlager 1942-3.

Sadly, I find that really quite interesting and was not intending to mock self.

Sean Penn must have been intending to mock himself with this letter to these guys. Apparently the film is reasonably right wing and a number of the forums are celebrating that this film will stick it too those 'Michael Moore Communists'.

Some people are very scary.

Not me, however. I'm off to count vegetables grown over sixty years ago on the far side of the world.

2004-10-14T01:34:00.000+13:00

Who says I'm wasting time?

I did not make these up. I don't know who did. Importantly, I did not alter any of the descriptions to make people happy, sad, or envious of my rather accurate description. You know it's bollocks but that won't stop you laughing. Occasionally. Hey, don't shoot the messanger, man. Men first. Then come the women.

MEN'S NAMES
Aaron - ugly but hung like a horse, prone to belly button fluff.
Adam - cute, funny, chicks dig him, has the potential to be stalked.
Adrian - small todger, probably gay.
Alan - shy but sensitive, gets screwed over by women.
Alex - cute but a liar and a cheater.
Amir - dirty, smelly, pecker is minuscule.
Andrew -usually short and very horny, watches cartoons.
Antonio - has a great body and beautiful skin, and chicken brain.
Anthony - great guy and kind to all girls, smells of wee.
Arnold - loser.
Arthur - hung like a slave and celibate.
Ashley - wanker who's losing his hair.
Barry - lights fires, pinches girl's bottoms and is well hung.
Ben - kind hearted, will do anything for the one he loves.
Bert - looks like he has been pulled a hedge backwards and chews with his mouth open.
Bob - quiet and unpopular, eats with his hands.
Brad - thinks everyone likes him...but they don't.
Brandon - good looking but uses girls.
Brendan - quiet and sweet, gets beaten up all the time.
Brett - worldwide slut and really insensitive, women love him.
Brian - a wanna be charmer, he's not the Messiah he's just a very, very naughty boy.
Bryan - sexy, but stupid - can't spell.
Bronsen - annoying and never grows up - has a stupid name.
Bruce - stinks bad and thinks everyone else's name is also Bruce.
Bryce - fun to be with and will make you laugh, you'll kill him within a week.
Calvin - immature in a naive way, drives a Gemini.
Cameron - Australian, like Bruce.
Carl - thinks he's funny...he's not, falls asleep during sex.
Carson - fun to be around and really sensitive.
Chad - cute, sensitive and very studly - only found in American movies.
Charles - can't trust him, eyes too close together.
Chris - can't pull, will pay for women, but has a huge pecker and can use it too.
Christopher - soppy and too clingy to make a relationship last. spends most of his life drunk and kisses like a washing machine.
Christian - very sexy and seductive, full of his self.
Clark - hilarious and always in trouble, problem with 'jailbait'.
Clive - very sweet and adores girls, but prefers to watch.
Cole - nice, funny, and fun to be around.
Colin - lies to women and blows up public buildings.
Cory - funny but ugly, ends up running fashion magazines.
Craig - the lights on but no ones at home.
Damon - total loser in a sweaty sort of way.
Dan - quiet but funny, but becomes easily addicted to narcotics.
Dane - weird but can hold together a conversation with a mermaid.
Daniel - sweetest guy in the world,soft and gentle but good in bed! hes a keeper!!!!!!
Darren - charming, but sleeps with men.
Daryl - smells bad, has no real mates.
David - hottie and works out a lot, loves girls named Florence. Can be gay!
Dave - extremely sexy, always funny, intelligent, stylish, trendsetter i.e. a wanker.
Dean - full of himself and thinks with his dick.
Dennis - either very nice to girls or a faggot.
Derek - has a great sense of humour, and blow-up doll collection.
Dominic - hilarious and will do anything to please.
Don - dickhead.
Doug - has a greasy face, drinking problem and farts.
Drew - bad-arse loser who never shuts up.
Duncan - hopeless ski bum, brains shot away long ago.
Dylan - horny bastard, who can't sing.
Dwayne - cool guy to be around if you can handle his name.
Eddie - wants too many chicks he'll never get 'cos he's an arsehole.
Elliott - full of himself.
Eric - shy.
Ewan - a little slow but sweet, sexy, and model mental patient.
Frank - "different" - missing DNA - favours girls named Lucy.
Fred - sucks pig's dicks & swallows the lot.
Gareth - sweet but dresses too good to be straight.
Gary - dreams about mud wrestling girls. drug addict but willing to share.
Gavin - likes bondage, S&M with other men.
Geoff - prefers golf to sex and war to peace.
George - barman who drinks more than he serves, treats girls like shit also a wanker.
Graeme - very hard to understand, likes group sex.
Graham - will screw anything.
Grant - HORNY! But so sweet and you can talk to him about anything.
Greg - really sweet and feels sorry for himself.
Harry – has back hair.
Harvey - cute, but addicted to sex and/or drugs.
Hathem - smooth, but manipulative, not to bet trusted around young girls.
Hayden - tries hard.
Henry - has gay like movements frequently. likes to run every where. would screw welli boots.
Howard - likes small-breasted women and pornography.
Ian - really popular but knows all the girls want him... yeah right!
Ivor - militant psychopath with homosexual tendencies.
Jack - stupid but hot, always alright.
Jake - shy and sweet but a slut when drunk.
Jamie - scum of the earth.
James - built like a horse. likes to bite while kissing.
Jason - big headed. never fails to grab the girls attention, full of bullshit.
Jay - very sweet when you get to know him well.
Jeff - really ugly.
Jerome - gay, but very unhappy.
Jeremy - loud and thinks that he's all that he says he is.
Jesse - unpopular and needs to move on.
Jim - sweet, has fantasies of love and affection.
Joe - built like a bear, sexy but tends to lose his head.
Joel - arse.
John - has no friends or life - tends to kill small animals.
Jolyon - absolute raving homosexual.
Jon - countless two timer and bully.
Jonathon - loud, sex mad and great with it - can be full of himself.
Jordan - sexy but weird in bed.
Jose - hot boy with a love of hermaphrodites.
Josh - full of himself, fun.
Junior - hottie and totally good at football.
Justin - aggravating but loveable, insecure but successful.
Judith - Eats a lot, likes to feel superior.
Kain - the sexiest guy alive but very stuck up.
Kane - an absolute and compleat arsehole.
Kevin - always attracts really fit girlfriends also has a large penis.
Keith - good person to talk to when you have a problem - his is worse.
Kenneth - very, very...anything you want him to be.
Kurt - can kick anyone's arse.
Kyle - hornball who eats too many corn chips.
Lance - Plays with his penis cos no one else will.
Larry - cute but wannabe player with big arse.
Laurie - short and funny looking.
Lee - girl dressed up as a boy, total arse bandit.
Lewis - lonely, sad git, bit of a tosser.
Lyndon - can always be found in bed or in the pub.
Liam - loud mouthed arsehole.
Lorenzo - fine and dresses in stolen gold.
Lucas - fat loser that dates other men.
Luke - seems to be sweet. bit of a tosser though.
Malcolm - tall man who tends to lose his trousers.
Marc - an idiot, who can't spell. would do anything for sex.
Mark - wished girls liked him for who he is not his great looks, mouthy bastard.
Matt - likes drink and is full of shit.
Mathew - has less brains than a donkey does in one of it's hoofs. thinks constantly about porn.
Michael - very good looking but he'll do anything for a girl.
Mick - always drunk, tendency for drug abuse.
Mike - shag muffin.
Mohammed - small penis.
Morgan - the only thing that is big is his ego.
Nathan - stupid as hell, and tends to make others feel dumb.
Nick - nice -can't get past the missionary position though.
Neil - sweet and will do anything in this world for you, great in bed.
Oliver - likes men but is in denial.
Oscar - loser.
Owen - cute gay guy who is immature, and sings Welsh songs.
Patrick - drunk, drunk, drunk.
Paul - cool, calm and handsome, a quality only found in gays.
Peter - cutie but very shy, makes women feel like virgins.
Phillip - stupid idiot who wishes he were cool.
Rhys - great lover but had his mind stolen by aliens a long, long time ago.
Richard - can't see his feet as balls are too big.
Ricky - ugly shithead who everybody hates.
Rikki - the fucking greatest in the world, everyone loves this guy... no faults at all.
Rob - constantly watches porn.
Ron - spends most of his time looking at the base of his spine, when his head is up his own arse.
Roy - total loser and computer genius.
Rupert - arrogant twat who is crap in bed but thinks he is a stud.
Russell - likes to play in the leaves, which makes him an arsehole.
Ryan - tall with sexy body and even sexier mind.
Sam - wannabe sex machine.
Scott - has serious disabilities. also takes it up the butt.
Sean - has small testicles and no friends.
Seth - so sweet to other people but is a traitor.
Shane - not very nice, lies to pick faults (changed now)
Shannon - the most determined and persevering sweetie in the world.
Shaun - bit of a hard bastard, thinks women love him.
Simon - likes a night out with the lads and curries. Says he is the man but talks bollocks.
Spencer - loves it right up there, normally with a toilet roll and a hamster.
Steve - popular and funny & hung like a donkey.
Stuart - droll guy with great arse and suicidal tendencies but great in bed.
Ted - hairy, sensitive and a great shag.
Teddy - great friend, crap boyfriend. clowns have been known to look more stylish.
Tim - hot but a bit strange, can never tell where he is.
Toby - best blow ever.
Tom - extremely arrogant.
Tommy - no-one can have brains and looks. he is FYNE! but there isnt much behind it.
Tony - hot, sweet, and totally fun to be around, prefers getting done up the arse
Travis - fat and horny with the best XXX collection to be found.
Trevor - sweet and funny but sometimes untrustworthy.
Troy - cute and popular.
Taylor - happy, laughing hyena.
Warren - cool, homosexual guy.
Wesley - great guy and easy to tolerate.
Will - wishes he were popular.
William - tall, dark and handsom. ie when it's dark, he is handsom and tall.
Zach - sweet and polite and adorable.
Zack - thinks he is superman. great in bed due to ego.
Zahid - devious and sly. Not to be trusted.

WOMEN'S NAMES
Ada - blue haired, smells of wee.
Aileen - big tall woman who talks shite all day.
Aimee - Likes to strut her stuff, though theres not much 2 do so. Likes to play with cheese.
Aimz - Like italian breakfast bread rolls. hollow on the inside. would die to screw a lamar.
Aisha - laughs like a demented dog, likes tic-tacs.
Alexandra - Smart kick ass chic.
Alison – bra and pants are the same garment, looks better with the light off.
Amanda - IQ tends to be smaller than bra size. Probably a good shag though.
Amberley – queen of ice, no friends with a nasty mean streak. More than likely a lesbian but nice teeth.
Amy - devious, likes being on top, never stays the night - Not to be trusted.
Aimz - limited intelligence.
Andrea - small breasts, drinks pints.
Angela - Vain, hairstyle more important than oxygen. Hangs around toilets.
Anna - has eyes bigger than her stomach. but her waistline shows it.
Annabelle - doesn't wear knickers.
Annette - she's BIG.
Anne - looks like a horse, can't drive.
Anouska - shags like a rabbit, not fussy about appearance.
Beatie - she would rather jump out of a plane with out a parashoot than having to pick up a spider.
Belinda - pleasing on the eye, usually has a couple of good points.
Beryl - repressed alcoholic.
Betty - makes simple tasks seem like brain surgery.
Beverley - trapped in an eighties timewarp.
Bianca - ginger.
Bridgette - eats pizzas all day, smokes cigars.
Britney - falsely improved, no use to society.
Camilla - replaces the word 'yes' with 'ya'.
Carina - looks like the back of a bus, doesn't swallow.
Carol - into everything you've only ever read about. Coin-operated.
Caroline - into threesomes. Likes doggy style. Always up for it.
Carla - pretty but more mouth and flirting than action in the bedroom.
Carly- the sexiest bitch in the world!!!!!!
Casey – painful lay, naïve but with a sense of humour, possibly once a man.
Catherine - attracted to the older man, needs ironing.
Claire – thinks she is perfect in every way and a completly sex mad
Celine - emits hideous noises, waste of DNA.
Charlotte - enjoys tea and cake a lot , can sing the national anthem with her bum.
Cheryl - can fit hand in mouth, eats glass. Has many ways with the boys - slapper
Christina - hasn't got much of a life due to being a boring person. likes cammels.
Christine - likes men in uniform, never warm.
Claudia - highly annoying. finds it hard to keep friends.
Daisy - virgin.
Danni - should make nice threesome with sibling.
Davina - drug induced mental damage, should shave her neck.
Dawn - gets up early, smells of chips.
Deborah - bites the pillow, uses both hands.
DeeDee - cannot understand why no one else masturbates in Ikea.
Denise - sits on cat's eyes, wears too much make up.
Diane - enjoys company of animals. Deep as a puddle. Adds nothing to society.
Donna - 70's throw back, likes cabbage.
Doris - purple haired, stinks of wee.
Elaine - rides sidesaddle, drinks meths.
Eleanor - centre of attention when she walks into a room,not always for the good. has the gift of gab.
Elizabeth - born to perform, hates chickens.
Ellie - far too attractive for the swear words that come out of her mouth.
Emily - wears odd socks but that doesn't mean shes not cute!
Emma - gullible and easily swayed by a good looker!
Estelle - likes wombles, eats grass.
Esther - plump with sagging breasts, normally heavily tattooed.
Faith - legs meet at knees, can't shag standing up.
Faye - wears wellies, can't swim.
Felicity - she'll stab you with her nipples, plays darts
Fiona - female mud wrestler, gives head.
Frances - gives oral for a one pence peice. but loves to sow.
Frankie - would make it as a farmer. people say she needs to shower more.
Gail - farts a lot, drinks Guinness.
Gaynor - lesbian.
Gem - like an arm chair. comfotable, loved, odd.
Gemma - practically perfect in everyway. Loved by everyone. Good listener and friend.
Geraldine - too posh for her own good, likes flying.
Gillian - dyes her hair green, likes clubbing.
Gina - eternal mother, eats nappies.
Glenda - eats children, hates smoking.
Georgia - wants to be a man.
Grace - blubs a lot, wees in the bath.
Hannah - needs to be naked at all times, eats kebabs.
Harriet - has a brain somewhere, will prob end up living on pizza.
Hayley - lives on dads beers, is lazy bitch.
Heather - shags like a freight train, a screamer.
Helen - loves sleeping and alcohol and is work shy.
Heidi - the hills are alive with the sound of music, likes gherkins.
Hilary - frigid bitch. Thinks money grows on trees.
Holly - prickly to the touch, seasonal shagmeister.
Ina - drinks tequila from the bottle, wets the bed.
Ingrid - right wing Nazi tendencies, never smiles.
Jackie - heroin addict, sold her child.
Janet - soft, warm and really cuddly. Good shag.
Jane - enjoys wanking men (or women).
Jasmine - smells of sewers, eats the heads off rats.
Jemma - does anal, wears too much eye make-up.
Jennifer - huge breasts, should shave her legs more often.
Jerrica - a bitch thinks she's good
Jessica - virgin, always will be.
Joanne - moans in her sleep, cant cook, moans when she wakes up!
Jodie - absolutely perfect in every way, every group of friends should have one!
Jo - would make a good exotic dancer. men love her.
Judith - big eyes, big tits.
Judy - huge tits, married to an arse.
Julia - innocent face, don't trust her, she'll steal your wallet in five minutes.
Justine- massive tits, likes hanging around men's toilets.
Julie - jabba the Hutt's sister, constantly pregnant.
Karen - too smart for her own good and is insensitive to others.
Katie - big feet, shags men over 50.
Kate - talks complete bollocks all the time, scavenger.
Katherine - is a follower. doomed to be successful but not compleatly happy.would fight for a tea cosy.
Keeley – big mouth, big heart, and big tits
Kelly - smells of cheese, slobbers when kissing and loves her self.
Kerry - perfect in every way and a complete sex goddess.
Kimberley - wants to be a bloke, drinks like a bloke, farts like a bloke and wears a wig.
Kirsty - eats live moles, can't dance.
Kylie - can't sing but who cares.
Lana - hated by her parents, accidental pregnancy.
Lara - action packed, never seen naked.
Laura - likes Max power magazine, can't drive and lies.
Lauren - pert breasts, seldom ventures out at night.
Leah - likes outdoor sex, wees standing up.
Lena - eats food then throws up, rapidly shrinking.
Leslie - likes bondage, hates men.
Linda - perfect in every way - a complete ugly goddess in the dog world.
Lindsay - likes doggy style, doesn't do housework.
Lisa - will take all your money and run, gets turned on by porn and spiting.
Livvy - pink, prim and perfect. people find this annoying.
Liz - good looking, definately one to shag.
Lorraine - constantly whinges, will strip for a packet of jellybabies.
Louisa - sensible head on her shoulders. collects socks.
Louise - real babe, bright too, I'd drink her bath water.
Lucy - strange dancer, wants to marry her dad. theif.
Madeline - drives like a bloke, likes tractors.
Maggie - trainspotter, likes plaid.
Margaret - lovely mother, very generous.
Maria - bangs like a barn door.
Marie - life's slapper. Likes men to do DIY.
Marina - no get up and go, rusty underwear.
Marilyn - eats like a horse, out stays her welcome.
Martina - ugly lesbian.
Martine - can't act, can't sing, nice tits.
Matilda - likes dancing, mainly the waltz.
Mary - gets hurt easily.
Meg - cheesy smell, should be spelt with an S.
Megan - loves nature, cares more for trees than people. radical and gets things done.
Melanie - can hold two bar vacuum orally indefinitely.
Melissa - eats dogs, been in prison 6 times for burglary.
Meryl - dances like an ape, doesn't realise.
Michaela - likes animals, should make a video with them.
Michelle - wears white stilettos, dances round her handbag.
Marsha - big butt, small brain.
Monica - doesn't swallow, should have.
Naomi - wannabe diva, more of a diver.
Nancy - white hair, remembers manners.
Natalie - eats with her mouth open, farts the Nokia phone tune.
Natasha - could use a face lift but is a sweet loyal friend
Nell - hasn't realised WWII has ended, lives in Kent.
Nicola - slapper, alcoholic in denial in every way.
Nicole - girls hate her, men use her and dump her.
Nikki - loved up, eats cucumbers.
Nina - stuffs her bra with tissues, been single for years.
Nisha - hs a deep interest in the YMCA. falls in love easily.
Olga - you can park a bike in her arsecrack, excessive facial hair.
Olivia - neutron bomb.
Pamela - gives amazing head, made of plastic.
Pat - forest forager, likes wild boar.
Paula - transvestite merchant banker from Basildon well she pretends to be
Penelope - pit stop queen, likes men to be stiff.
Penny - burps like a man, lives in dungerees and gets told to shut up alot.
Phillippa - butt ugly lesbian.
Priscilla - likes painting with oils, Duckhams mainly.
Rachel - amazing gravity defying breasts, can grip a tenner in her
arsecheeks.
Rebecca - hairy armpits, orgasms without contact.
Rhia - alcoholic, goes after mingers.
Rosie - can be prickly, good head-giver.
Rula - she measures up well.
Sacha - believes carrots make you see in the dark, likes crotcheless knickers & malteasers.
Sadie - stand up if you're slim, please stand up.
Sally - drives a Mustang, fights in pubs.
Samantha - loves her brother, has four deformed children.
Sandra - shags donkeys for fun, bow legged.
Sarah - hangs around with the wrong crowd, Kinky in bed, loves porn.
Selina - doesn't wear pants, heavy laundry bills.
Sharon - shags like a locomotive, yo-yo knickers.
Shelley-the best in the world no complaints from any one
Shirley - can swallow a Curly Whirly whole, likes bananas.
Sian - does mean sheep impression, hates mint sauce.
Simone - used to be a shot putter from Cardiff.
Sonya - dirty lady of the night. Often referred to as a carrier.
Sophie - brothel madam, wears a wrinkly corset.
Stacey - likes crotchless jeans and arseless Speedo's.
Steffi - closet lesbian, maintains heterosexual relationship for effect.
Stephanie - eats Muppets, wears Brogues.
Sue - totally gorgeous!
Tanya - hot minx, too short.
Tara - upper class slapper, needs extra chemicals.
Tiffany - annoying and clingy. but makes up for it by being damn fit.
Tash - lives about 10 seconds behind everyone in the world but makes up for it with her tits
Tina - face like a smacked arse, should eat less.
Tori - lives in a hedge, can't water ski.
Tracy -. lesbian.
Tracey - easily swayed by alcohol. Mostly seen without underwear. Loves kittens
Ursula - likes puppies, in curry.
Vic - Likes to go commando. dreams of futures with lots of leather and men in thongs.
Victoria - too smart for her own good and is insensitive to others.
Vicky- likes Yoga and Men.Perfect in everyway. known to be very loud.
Vikki - wears too much lipstick to taste food. runs after dumbarsed guys who don’t like her.
Wendy - possibly a man.
Zara - face like an elephant's backside. cant see her toes from breast enhancements.
Zoe - talentless rock chick.

2004-10-09T03:42:00.000+13:00

And so it is

Got the job. This is most awesome. Not only will I get to have my own pad but also can afford to stay on, become Dr. Dave and achieve my lifetime goal of not getting out often enough.

Credit where credit is due - Nic wrote an awesome character reference (lied through his teeth) and that is appreciated.

2004-10-08T07:30:00.000+13:00

Slice of life

Yeah, it's a bit of a misnomer as it's not really a 'life' as such but... yeah. I've returned from hitting the town and Bentleys with Nic, Charlie and Karen, among others. And am now in a good mood to study. ish. No, I'm not drunk. No, I'm not stoned although that could be fun. er. Red Bull has picked me up and carried me off somewhere magical, however.

To give you an insight as to how my brain reacts after hours of study this is going to be a graduated blog. I'll go off and study for a while, return, blog, study, return, blog etc until it is time to pick up a rather sore Nic at 8am this morning. Or when I give up and run back to watch Spiderman Unlimited, a supercool cartoon that goes from 5-5.30am. Nanotechnology gives him the suit - cotton is so last week.

*Spoiler. I get pissed off during the night. I blame the poor combination of sugar and music.*

1.30 am. Right. It's just gone 1.30 am. Time to start. To infinity and there or thereabouts!

2.22 am. Off home. Oi! Don't leap to conclusions like that. I'm not piking. No-need to butch up girlie pants for me (plenty man enough). I need a copy of Jim Henderson's Gunner Inglorious - if you haven't read this then you must or I'll unleash something unpleasant on your inglorious muppet self but don't expect to get it from amazon because they don't have it listed grrr - and while I have a copy it wasn't the 1st edition which I'd previously taken notes from but as I've been intending to get it out of the library but i haven't due to my eternal lateness of being so I'm biting the bullet and using the reprint which means I'll have to recheck the references after I get it from the aforementioned home but not straight away possibly in a few weeks - checking the revisions that is not going home to get it which I'm doing now. Might also stop off at Countdown and get me some cookies.

Mmmm. Ranting.

3.27 am Big ups to cars. They might destroy the world and a number of motorists and pedestrians, but at least I can zip around town while listening to Radiohead. So far I've completed a plan for my chapter and have tentatively started writing. This is good. Also good are Damien Rice and Elliot Smith who have been recycled on my iTunes lately. Yeah folk-punk! Also props to random comment spammers re US election. I had one guy take issue with my belief that Bush will win regardless - he thinks the democrats will win and all power to him. He was reasonable. James C had one guy recently who thought that Kerry should be in prison due to his comments after Vietnam. I'm not sure how the prison system would handle all the anti-Vietnam protesters out there, but it's nice to see the little fella can use capital letters from time to time. Speaking of websites (I haven't been but bear with me) I might be getting my own site thanks to the big man who can hook me up with sweet sweet interweb sugar. And DM has taken over the rights to and ownership of political sphere dot com and actually get it running. I'll be a contributor if what I say makes more sense than this late night tomfoolery. I hope my thesis reads better than this.

Hippies. Read the Way of the Hippy and understand the Cat Stevens was a hippie. Not a terrorist.

WTF! Have linked the Elliot Smith web page. Turns out he died last year. suck. Apparently suicide. damn I'm pissed off.

4.43am Still pissed off. Stupid bloody suicides. Also noted that I finished my last chapter on 9/9. It is this morning 8/10 and I'm only starting to write the next. Although it shouldn't (prob will) take too long to write - how can I do all this work and only end up treading water? Stupid bloody job interviews. Work going slow. *gnash teeth. roar* Can only manage about 50 mins concentration then back to this lala land. Stupid bloody oompahloompahs. Think they're so orange. I'll show them orange.

Methinks sugar high over.

This is good.

Also following exchange between Thom Yorke and radiohead fan on some forum:
* how's the album going thom? - angel in limbo 29th Sep 2004
pffffft - Thom 29th Sep 2004

Radiohead will cheer me up. Onwards and onwards-ish.

6.01 am muh. Can't speak good. Brain slowly freeze. This usual at this hour. Will change soon. Meantime:
'Your score is 1 on a scale of 1 to 10. You hate Bush with a writhing passion. You think he is an idiot, a liar, and a warmonger who has been a miserable failure as president. Nothing would give you greater pleasure than seeing him run out of the White House, except maybe seeing him dragged away in handcuffs.' Test good. This may be a surprise but I have done work.

7.21 am ri-ght. Well it's certainly daylight outside. I'm not sure if pulling an all-dayer is really going to help my sleeping patterns but it has to be better than staring at the ceiling all night. Some good work done too which is useful - I would have preferred more but I did hit the sugar low that tends to go with drinking far too much coke out on the town. I can give up anytime I want, I tells ya. Those of you worried about my linguistic ability at certain stages of the night will be relieved to hear that most of the work I did was planning and organising - so the supervisor won't be too surprised by a random reference to oompahloompahs. Unless he reads the blog. Still pissed off about Elliot Smith. Dude writes lyric 'Situations get fucked up/but turned around sooner/or later' then goes and tops himself.

Bastard.

2004-10-05T17:30:00.000+13:00

This doesn't really count

And I'm still on my blog exile. Wow. I'm not trying to write a blog but can still manage it unlike you you you and especially you. But I had my interview about an hour ago. I can't last 30 minutes without cracking some lame arsed joke, damnit. I don't think it went too badly. Some of my answers felt a bit flat, but others made them sit up and go 'wow'. Cheers to everyone to gave advice, good luck etc. Will know within a week.

Argh.

Mmmm endorphins.

Argh.

2004-10-03T19:50:00.000+13:00

Where Dave vanishes from sight

Love has to go two ways, and frankly I'm not feeling the love. I'm taking, of course, of the love between a man and his thesis. While it is the best he-bitch in my man-thesis stable, lately I haven't been getting the sugar I want, crave and deserve from it. Intellectually it ain't putting out. For a while I was blaming it's wild and extravagant lifestyle. It's hard to work on a relationship when your thesis is constantly hitting the town with other dissertations and research projects. Sometimes I think it wants to spend more time with cheap trash like The End of History than knuckle down have a deep and meaningful talk with me. Skanky man-ho! Sorry, sometimes I get carried away.

The point is, we've decided that we need to spend more quality time together. Which mean thesis won't be spending as much time with the wrong crowd and I won't be spending as much time here, continuously writing the 200th blog blogger can't count. That's right people. Less blog, less life, more thesis. Besides, with a few notable and obvious exceptions it is not as though you lot are sharing your love. You're always 'too tired' or 'not in the mood'. Of course, that doesn't stop you from reading other blogs though, does it? For shame.

*And with that, Dave vanished from sight. Some say he returned the ancient fortress city of Machu Picchu. Others believe he descended into the pits of madness - walking atop the moors and crying out for his lost love. Still more think he turned to the dark side to wage war on those hippies who would otherwise get away scott free. Me, I think he'll be back. He's waitin', hidin', ready to strike at any moment. *

2004-10-02T15:21:00.000+12:00

There's something happening here

The last few days have been completely surreal. Reminiscent really of this time last year when I kept waking up to a hive of bees buzzing around my head to find myself being fined for having the council paint a bus stop around my car. Thursday involved a large number of people groping my arse (look, don't touch, people!) and chasing me around the streets. Numerous possi wanted my company - alcohol is a wonderful substance - and I had to turn down the company of girls. When will I learn? Eventually two of my groups (for brevity's sake we'll call them matter and anti-matter) wound up at the treehouse getting drunk on cheap spirits and poor singing. They left and young Mr Mason arrived looking for life in all the wrong places (it's the treehouse, Nic!) I can't talk. I was there for over two hours. *sigh*

I thought that was surreal at the time. Bah. That was nothing. After a couple of seminars in History we manked our way to Bentleys, endured certain knowing looks from certain knowing staff, drank a couple and hey presto! I found myself in the AGM of the Campus Singaporean Students Society. They seem very nice. An hour later I was playing pool in town. Then home. Then Josh's Burger Bar with Tim who now has a phone again. Girls were there. 'Hey boys' they said. 'Hey girls' I said. Tim scurried away. 'Do you like mushrooms?' they asked. I scurried away. Drove home - almost ran into Ben and Karen but they were sober and we therefore missed. They'd come back from the madcaps after party (yet were sober. Ben. Karen. Madcaps. Sober).

Also, at some stage I went to BP for pie. I was recognised by one of the staff as being 'that postgrad guy'. I certainly am. Spent several minutes answering his questions on postgrad life and on the economics department in Auckland. He accepted my answers with the respect and awe I could get used to for I am a God to these people.

Si has a radio show. Huh. That man is taking this town over one means of communication at a time. Maybe he should get a blog.

2004-09-30T15:04:00.000+12:00

200 Posts

Dats a'lot'a meatball.

Damn thesis.

I have in my hand, or to be more precise behind the bottle of coke (diet) that is near my left hand which is currently typing... a letter congratulating me on my awesomeness and asking for an interview.

Job = tutor type at a hall of residence.
Significance = afford to do PhD.
State of mind = oscillating between rapture and terror.

I'm not the most accomplished interviewee. I'm more like the dude in Trainspotting who goes to an interview while on speed - except I'm not the speed taking type. I'm high on the effects of the magic cauldron I was dropped in as a child. I lost a big, kick arse scholarship which would have taken care of my student loan because I couldn't help making a stupid joke.

Interviewers: Do you have any questions you'd like to ask.
Dave: Nah. I read John Grisham. I know what you like are lot.
Interviewers to each other through body language: The boy knows too much. The previous girl was much more naive/tactful. On the other hand he is kinda cute.
Dave to self through body language: damn damn damn damn damn I think they're coming on to me damn damn damn damn damn.

The interview is next week. Expect me to lose more hair and rant for longer periods of time.

Fortunately there is a bonus to this muhwahwah. I can see into the future. Which is useful although I'm not sure if I'm seeing a 6 or an 8 on the lotto ticket. While I can't see your specific futures (I'm sure you'll all end up fantastic, finish writing book/novel/thesis, see SW3, cry, find appropriate hot man/woman, get awesome job/reapply for dole, end up happy blah blah blah) I can see the wider implications of global events.

Israel: Continues to fight the Palestinians.
Palestine: Continues to fight the Israelis.
Children: Continue to die.
Iraq: US and Britain pull out citing successful elections.
Iraqis: Wondering where the elections took place.
US: Terror attack on home soil.
Russia: Terror attack on home soil.
Chechnya: Terror attack on home soil.
Australia: Terror attack on home soil.
US: Bush wins 'election'. Carter angry.
Britain: Blair wins.
Russia: Putin wins 'election'. No-one that angry (in public).
Australia: Howard wins. Strike one up for human rights.
NZ: Labour win. Brash resigns. Greens, Act, United Future (damn), National, NZ First, Maori Party all in.
Rugby: British Lions beat All Blacks.
Japan: Cautiously rearms.
Petrol: Pretty dang expensive. Damn SUVs.
Ozone hole. Shrinks. yay.

2004-09-29T19:53:00.000+12:00

Come with me if you want to laugh

As most of us are aware, Corey is in Japan. There's nothing particularly surprising about this, and even when he was in Chch he was often absent. But he has recently blogged. I know! First Nic tries is hand at blogging and then Corey has a go. Who knows, maybe even Ben will give it a whirl one day. Unlike Ben and Nic, however, Corey understands that three lines is not nearly enough. And I'm still laughing. Do it. Read it. Be there.

Also: for those of you that don't know Corey it won't really matter too much. All you need to know is that he's in Japan and traditionally white.

2004-09-29T16:23:00.000+12:00

Live from the battlefield

There is a place I know which is safe, away from all the mad-capped action and fast-paced life that tends to go on around me. It's like a big bunker with thick concrete walls for reinforcement and only an old fashioned morse code system for interactions with the outside world - tends to take a while. Most of you will know it as my head. It resides in my office. I might be some time.

In the meantime I'll be running around screaming peace and putting flowers down barrels and the like. Just like rugby.

2004-09-28T20:52:00.000+12:00

These kids will try anything

to get you to vote.

2004-09-27T17:08:00.000+12:00

If you go down to the woods today...

Went and saw The Village on Saturday with Fi. It was pretty good. I've heard really good reviews and really bad. I thought it fell somewhere inbetween.

The basic premise of the movie is that an isolated village exists in a valley. On the hills are the woods. There is a truce between the villagers and the creatures that live in the woods. The villagers are not allowed into the woods. Being an M. Night Shyamalan movie there is an expectation of a twist aka The Sixth Sense or, to a lesser extent, Signs. Reviewers have either loved or hated the 'twist' in The Village. I saw it coming but there will still enough 'huh?' moments to keep me interested. Perhaps I wasn't in the mood to think. The script was good, the plot was reasonable, and there were some fantastic landscape shots that added to the atmosphere. The acting was very good and I think this was the main reason the moive worked. Signourney Weaver and William Hurt were convincing, if nothing spectacular, as two of the Elders. Adrian Brody was good - completely and utterly different to his role in The Pianist, which was nice. Joaquin Phoenix was typically understated and quietly brilliant. He's rapidly becoming one of my favourite actors - and clearly one of Shyamalan's. The star performance, however, was Bryce Dallas Howard who played the blind daughter of Hurt. Howard, daughter of Happy Days' and A Beautiful Mind's Ron Howard, managed to convey both vulnerability and strength without resorting to cliche. I think most other actresses would have struggled.

Anyway, if you haven't seen it yet make sure you do.

In other news... someone put Jaguar F1 on Ebay.

Damn brain.

2004-09-24T14:13:00.000+12:00

ARgh

I've handed in my uni hall application. Hopefully this will provide me with a good job, free food, accomodation, power, decent showers and sublime water pressure and potenitally decent cash. Also fat fat internet cable *slobbers*. A number of older lads have requested visitation rights in order to inspect the local talent. And the aforementioned fat fat internet cable *still slobbering*.

This has come with a little stress. It throws up nexts years prospects and the insecure fears that any self-respecting Arts student possesses. Also family is concerned about thesis - which is odd given that it's going well. Brother dearest told me that I'd better bloody well finish before whacking me in the arm. I hadn't even considered the possibility of not finishing before this - and the rational side of my brain reassures me that some members of my family can act in rather odd and surprising ways. The irrational side of my brain has seized upon this as another stress and I'm thus malfunctioning.

Stupid brain.

Which means a large number of our Chch posse are manically stressed. Nic has his job interview and thesis mark back (you'd know this if he bothered to blog). Fi has hons to worry about. Claire has insane amounts of work as well as hunting for the mythical 'grey hair'. Ben is angsting over how best to write a blog. Tim lost his text messages. Others tend to be wrapped up in the day to day 'muh'. The only people around here that seem to be blissfully happy/unaware are Charlie and Si and that's probably due to the drugs.

Shanghai GP... pretty. *slobbers*

2004-09-23T13:55:00.000+12:00

'Peace Train' author terrorist mastermind

Yusuf Islam, once Cat Stevens is going to be deported from the United States to Britain after he was accused of supporting militant terrorist organisations. He says he was giving money to charity.

A number of people are complaining about this. Personally, I think the authorities have probably got this right. Why? Let's look a combination of several songs lyrics in a random and unusual order..

Watch them run down to platform one...Well I think it's fine, building jumbo planes...thinking about the world as it is ... out on the edge of darkness... scrapers fill the air...why can't we live in bliss...there's no more room up there...Oh jumbo train take this scraper...I've been hating...Do doot do, do de do doot do.

This is mad. Am angry. Grrr. So angry I'll cut and paste lyrics to Peace Train - which is a much better read than the Patriot Act. When he wrote this I doubt he could have imagined one day he'd be on a list of potential terrorists.

Now I’ve been happy lately, thinking about the good things to come
And I believe it could be, something good has begun
Oh I’ve been smiling lately, dreaming about the world as one
And I believe it could be, some day it’s going to come
Cause out on the edge of darkness, there rides a peace train
Oh peace train take this country, come take me home again
Now I’ve been smiling lately, thinking about the good things to come
And I believe it could be, something good has begun
Oh peace train sounding louder
Glide on the peace train
Come on now peace train
Yes, peace train holy roller
Everyone jump upon the peace train
Come on now peace train
Get your bags together, go bring your good friends too
Cause it’s getting nearer, it soon will be with you
Now come and join the living, it’s not so far from you
And it’s getting nearer, soon it will all be true
Now I’ve been crying lately, thinking about the world as it is
Why must we go on hating, why can’t we live in bliss
Cause out on the edge of darkness, there rides a peace train
Oh peace train take this country, come take me home again

2004-09-22T15:05:00.000+12:00

When I was a lad

When I was younger - years ago - we had proper licorice. I was thinking of this earlier as Nic and I procrastinated outside 101 while drinking coke, eating licorice and eavesdropping on evangelical North Americans discussing how Jesus died for Hitler. I'm stunned. If I'd known about Hitler back in 33AD I would have focused my impressive powers of foresight on the local gladatorial league and put my money on Maximus instead of Minimus. Damn.

The licorice we were eating was soft, flavoursome and somewhat enjoyable. This is not how licorice should be. Licorice should be how it was when I was younger. Down by Tairei Mouth, South Otago there used to be a dairy by the sea. We'd stay in the crib we had there every so often. On Sundays Dad would walk down to the dairy to purchase the paper with little Dave and little Greg and buy us a lolly. I would inevitably go for either the licorice or the fake cigarettes which made me look 7 and therefore grownup. For 50 cents you could get this huge piece of licorice. It would take an age to eat because it was so tough. You would bite into it and get a migraine. This was usually solved by going for a swim or running into a tree. The licorice had a tough, rubbery texture. It was long, wide and had grooves in it, and smelled like the dust that came into the store from cars driving past the dairy after going over the metal roads that zig-zagged the area. Sadly there were one or two downsides. Whenever we took the car anywhere where there might be kids we had to leave Greg standing guard over the car in case any of the locals started gnawing on the tires. You'd be surprised how scary a three year old with a baseball bat can be. Even to a five year old who had fake sugary cigarettes. He'd take my smokes and beat me. I was sad. Fortunately it was the eighties and no-one seemed to notice.

2004-09-21T14:18:00.000+12:00

It is spring

Switzerland is on campus. I repeat, Switzerland is on campus.

2004-09-21T13:28:00.000+12:00

Tragedy

Perhaps it was one of the more ironic titles in pop music. Sadly, not I've thought of it I can't get it out of my head with no one to love you your going nowhere. din din din din.

I wrote a fantastic blog last night. Full of wit, charm and humour you never knew I had. Comments that would have made you laugh, think, perhaps cry a little if you respect George Lucas as a scriptwriter, and a line that may have solved the middle east violence. If only it had the chance. Instead the server decided that it wasn't going to post it. Oh yes, the 'server'. The Man is cracking down on me, man. They're everywhere. It's all about the feds. The CIA, the Bloods and the Crips, and the KKK.

Goddamn musical blog.

Anyway, there have been a few changes around here. I hope they work. Otherwise I'd attempt to raise a frown but too many cows have died to bring me my smooth complexion and it'd be disrespectful.

To the batmobile.

2004-09-19T18:40:00.000+12:00

I am Man

And I can back that up.

Episode 1. Thursday night.
Gave a talk to prospective postgrads. My reward was a movie ticket and free alcohol. The ticket first came in an empty envelope. I complained and was rewarded with an envelope with a ticket inside. Then proceeded to drink with lecturers and solved most of the worlds problems. Or, rather, realised rather glumly that Bush will still be there this time next year. Solved no problems at all. Once they'd thrown us out some of us continued to Bentleys. Lo and behold half of Debsoc was there and I continued in my merry drunken path. Memory starts to become fuzzy now. Had seen Ben and Karen when I'd arrived but they had a show to do, although they promised to return. As did Tim when he stuck his head in. I was so happy there. Anyway, after more drinking I found myself in the backseat of a car being pulled over by the cops. I played the drunk guy in the backseat largely because I was the drunk guy in the back seat. Then we were at the Dramasoc after party. I was incoherent, apparently, although I made perfect sense in my head. Offered to kill someone for Ben and Karen. They declined. Offered to kill Ben for Karen. She declined. Started texting people telling them how drunk I was. Walked home with Tim to his place and crashed on couch where I was molested by cat.

That was manly. LET US NEVER SPEAK OF THIS NIGHT AGAIN.

Episode 2. Saturday.
After a pre-interview orientation around uni hall which went rather well (I'm rather charming) I had our rugby team's final. The ground was like concrete and my bones were soft like lamington squares. Was bruised and battered by a couple of dodgy tackles and a nice uppercut underneath my right eye. Left me dazed and disoriented. Where was I running? That's right - toward the ground. Pretty. Subbed self off halfway through second half. After a first half that last 40 minutes and a second half that lasted 50 (we normally play 30) we had won the game. We got trophy. And beer.

Manly.

Episode 3. Indoor Soccer.
My soccer form has been abysmal lately. But I've improved my aggressive 'man' technique. Was subbed off last week after being hit below the belt. Was hit there twice today. Crowd groaned. I squealed. Carried on playing.

Manly.

Also... bad news. Karen has killed angry drunk Ben. He no longer exists. Instead we have a deliriously happy drunk Ben. Not as much entertainment at Vertigo last night for above reason.

Ford has pulled out of F1 - which means no more Jaguar. Hopefully the team gets bought by someone so we can still have 20 cars per race. Perhaps Arden?

But in cool news I came 3rd= in the F1 Fantasy competition run by newsonf1.com for Monza. This is the highest position someone from New Zealand has come this year. Fear me.

2004-09-16T16:07:00.000+12:00

Jacques' Back

Jacques Villeneuve has signed to race for Sauber for another two years. This is very, very awesome. Probably not appreciated by the majority of you. It's like Jango Fett returning for Episode 3. Not that I follow, or anything.

In other news I get free wine tonight.

2004-09-15T16:28:00.000+12:00

Some people

That Canadian visitor who was hoping to find a real cannibal girl to eat him/her has returned. They first checked into the site a few months ago using yahoo to search for suitable candidates. I think this is their third visit. I'm impressed at the mindless dedication to serving oneself on a platter that would drive someone to read this drivel on three separate occasions.

There is an irony in being mindless but wanting someone to eat it.

If you return, Canadian friend, stick with the vegetables or animal meat. If you are really keen on a slow and painful death, try politics. Or Episode 1.

Or Episode 2.

Student politics on campus are in full swing with all the back stabbing and bitchiness that is commonly associated and universally loathed by everyone not actually involved. I wish I could remember the days when Tim was elected to the council on the basis of his wang orange shirt. Now people are involved with 'issues' which eventually turn out to be themselves. And who really cares? I voted for people who I knew. Or would have had one of them not been disqualified. Something a little suspect there - I know people who know things and are impartial so I'll have to check up on that. It's not a perfect selection process, voting for who you know, but it's based on the assumption that legal advice will usually be followed. Then again, I'm consistently surprised by how thick some people are.

Such as John Kerry. For a man who can actually string a sentence together he is remarkably thick. He is certainly not doing as well as the majority of us would have liked. Being compared to Dukakis is not something he can afford to let happen. But he'll probably take a few days to think about how to appear decisive, and then change his mind again. Grrr.

Tony Blair is looking to force climate change to the top of the G8 agenda. Bush won't like this. Blair will back down. It won't be quite as obvious as that but that's what the effect will be.

We're playing the top of the league tonight in indoor soccer. This is not good. Nic is stuck with the show. Tim will need a big effort in defense, and Johnny will have to play like Pele on acid. I've got a sprained ankle which has only partially healed, and am hamstrung (hehe) by a general lack of talent. Since I've got back from Blenheim I've played 2 games for our team and only scored 1 goal. Shoddy munter. Must improve.

Oh. That's right. Thesis.

2004-09-13T15:48:00.000+12:00

Times like these

Every now and then something happens to reaffirm my faith in thesis. I've just got back the scanned sketches of Davis from the copy centre and they are awesome. Better than the original. Shiny. Cheers to Sarah for the scanning. I'm taking them around to Davis' daughter tonight and I'm certain she'll be thrilled.

The weather is getting worse. This is also good. Less chance to go outside and be distracted by skin. Although some girls persist in looking good. Very inconsiderate. And I have a sprained ankle and a walk home so I hope it doesn't rain.

We played A Game of Thrones last night at James C's. It was very good. Tim was banished to an island. Ben continued to ignore a more strategic gameplay and continually frustrated Nic with his threat of attack. James came close to winning but made two fatal lapses of judgment which lead to him not winning and Tim coming back from the dead to lay the smack down. I managed to bumble my way to victory and rightly assumed the throne. Hail to the king, baby.

2004-09-11T17:14:00.000+12:00

Ohhh, bad

Rugby is mostly a very awesome game. It is hard, tough, makes you realise just how unfit you are, and lets soft, soft pansies like myself believe that they are hard and stereotypically masculine for a minute or two. But.... We had our semifinal today. The ground was damn hard and after subbing on for 20 minutes and getting taken out off the ball (wanker) I was pretty much done in. We were looking pretty good in the second half (playing Lincoln - dirty, dirty players ordinarily but since it's finals they were playing it mostly clean) up four tries to one. A mall had just descended into a bit of anarchy when this high pitched, blood curdling scream went out. At first I thought someone was taking the piss... no. One of our props had been picked up and twisted, badly dislocating his knee. I've seen some really munted and freaky stuff happen, but this scream.... argh. His knees are pretty screwed and this isn't as unusual an event as we'd like it to be. Anyway,the bloke is damn hard and relocated it by himself. Ref stopped play, which was good because all of us on the bench were looking to hide under rubbish bins and in the trees. No-one wants to go on after that. Anyway, we won and are now in the plate final. Awesome. I'm just hoping I can get rid of that bloodcurdling scream before kickoff.

At least Charlie is back. This numbs the pain. Already conversation has dropped through the gutter. I think Ben's comment to Charlie and I 'Why don't you two go outside and try and beat each other up - that'd be arousing' in the context of us sitting on a couch and playing guitar is up there for the best random quote.

SW spoiler
Apparently the DVD of Star Wars has edited out that dude at the end of ROTJ and put in Hayden Christensen. I don't like that so much. The original trilogy was awesome and I'm wary of Lucas playing around with it. Then again, apparently Whanau II is better than Whanau, so revising classics can work.

2004-09-09T15:08:00.000+12:00

The roof is on fire

It is insanely warm in the Masters room today. Someone said it was nearing 19 degrees outside, which is probably accurate. Triple that for the Masters room. The old newspapers have caught on fire and my will to work in the boiler room has correspondingly gone up in smoke.

I can find something to complain about in everything.

In other news... The plant Hayley left behind in the Masters room has been renamed 'Jamie the Love God III'. Not my idea. Sorry.

Our soccer team was beaten last night 5-6. It shouldn't have been, but that's how it goes sometimes. I couldn't get a shot on goal which isn't too flash for someone playing up front. Nic scored 4 and Tim (yes, Tim) scored the other. The Man thought Tim was taking it to him and Tim was sent off in a decision I thought was harsh. I was kicked somewhere painful and had to take myself off to howls of cruel and hurtful laughter.

Ben promised me a decent blog on Tuesday. He has not delivered. Dan hasn't blogged in about 6 weeks. Perhaps he's emulating Hamish. Si is also slack. As is Nic and Tim, although at least Tim has the excuse of no real computer. The last I heard of Corey he was getting boozed in Japan and while I doubt anything has changed I still want to laugh. The only people who have really blogged with any real pizzaz and regularity are Mark and Miche.

Charlie is back tomorrow. I'm picking him up from the airport. I can either drop him off at his flat or set him free in the woods by the airport. Any suggestions?

2004-09-07T15:48:00.000+12:00

For crying out loud

The sun is shining. It is warm outside. Girls are reveling more skin underneath my window. The only thing that's missing is Charlies chasing the birds and playing hack. And he's back in a couple of days.

I want a blizzard. And for guys to stop hitting on me.

Also, you need to blog more.

2004-09-05T16:21:00.000+12:00

Statements from the Bush Clan

"We don't want to have people lose their lives because of abject stupidity." Jeb Bush.

"If a person doesn't have the capacity that we all want that person to have, I suspect hope is in the far distant future, if at all." George W.

"But I also made it clear to (Vladimir Putin) that it's important to think beyond the old days of when we had the concept that if we blew each other up, the world would be safe." George W.

"This administration is doing everything we can to end the stalemate in an efficient way. We're making the right decisions to bring the solution to an end." George W.

"I've coined new words, like, misunderstanding and Hispanically." George W.

"You teach a child to read, and he or her will be able to pass a literacy test." George W.

"I've been to war. I've raised twins. If I had a choice, I'd rather go to war." George W.

"I am not part of the problem. I am a Republican" George W.

"These, they're very dangerous. They trap you. Especially these furry ones...it's these furry guys that get you in real trouble. They can reach out and listen to something so - keep it respectful here." George Bush Sr., speaking to Arnold Schwarzenegger in 1991 about the need to be careful when speaking near open microphones.

"It has been said by some cynic, maybe it was a former president, 'If you want a friend in Washington, get a dog.' Well, we took them literally - that advice - as you know. But I didn't need that because I have Barbara Bush." George Bush Sr

"When I need a little advice about Saddam Hussein, I turn to country music." George Bush Sr.

"If a frog had wings, he wouldn't hit his tail on the ground. Too hypothetical." George Bush Sr.

"I had to give it up. That car was an invitation for one of the grandchildren to get arrested. And that’s all we need, is for another one of them ..." Former First Lady Barbara Bush, on giving up the black TransAm she used to tool around Kennebunkport

2004-09-04T18:53:00.000+12:00

Because I am awesome even when drunk

Colin Meads WAS sent off in 1967. He was the second All Black to have been sent off in an international rugby game. I said he was the first. Others said he had finished every game he started. Clearly that was incorrect. However, he did finish one game after breaking his arm halfway through. That is mighty.

The site proves it.

Bus trip was good. Lots of alcohol. Every pub seemed to be playing the same songs over and over again. We nearly left Hamish at the Redwood. I ended up calling most people 'Brian'. And I got abused by two girls for not hitting on them when I took the late bus home. Sat at home and watched the Russian school seige unseige spectacularly.

Does anyone know if the 'blue' taxi managed to find Richard's home ok?

2004-09-02T17:04:00.000+12:00

Bush

This is a recurring theme throughout my blog, along with Star Wars rants, self depreciating comments and really really poor/bad jokes. Make me wonder why people actually bother to read. Probably the same reason I write. Procrastination.

According to this site, Bush has overtaken Kerry in terms of electoral college votes. This more accurately predicts the winner as the US presidential system doesn't use an direct voting system. Which is, to say the least, suck. But, as we all know, polls are pretty worthless and probably do more to influence voters rather than reflect their beliefs. Bush's popularity will probably increase during the RNC, but hopefully it will come back down.

There are some interesting details in the graphic of the site above. Bush has 142 'strong' ec votes to Kerry's 109. Kerry has 107 'weak' ec votes to Bush's 40... and Bush has 98 'barely' ec votes to Kerry's 26. 16 ec votes are exactly even. So, other than stating that Bush has a larger base of staunch Republican states to work with, the election could sill theoretically go either way.

In practice, however....
There are a number of things about this election and the candidates that would scare me if I registered anything more than a cynical apathy over the upcoming election. First and foremost are the candidates. Bush and Cheney are about as attractive as, well, Bush and Cheney. Kerry is largely uninspiring and his only real attraction is that he is not Bush. I admire his conduct and bravery in Vietnam, and the courage it took to stand up against Vietnam when he returned. He's certainly paying for that now. It would have been far better for him to dodge the draft aka Bush and Clinton and flit about the countryside. His changes of heart and mind are irritating. Then again, Bush has recently caused a few laughs by stating that the war on terror is unwinnable (surprised?) and then clarifying that the other day by stating that 'unwinnable' actually meant 'winnable'. A bit like the election. Edwards is an enigma. He's got that good ol' boy Southern Charm, which should help, but little in the way of experience. At least he comes from the honest profession. He is on record as saying he is against free trade because it harms US interests. Bush is similar telling steel workers that he's responsible for tariff rises in steel, but demanding open markets for American products on the world stage. That same old hypocrisy that will exist regardless of who ultimately becomes president.

Yes, the Democrat ticket is better environmentally and will generate some foreign sympathy - particularly in Europe, Africa, Asia, the Pacific, and the Americas. I wonder who Tony B. wants to win. But I still have a sinking feeling that it's like choosing between cancer and a coronary.

Even if Kerry has more people vote for him than Bush, I still think Bush will become president again for the reasons listed below.

1a) Diebold Voting Machines. A Maryland judge ruled today that the Diebold Voting Machines are actually more accurate than paper ballots and will be optional in the November elections. 20% of California will use the machines to cast their votes, perhaps influenced by the Governorship of the T-1000. There are a number of concerns over the safety of the Diebold machines - such as the potentiality for voter fraud and vote manipulation.

1b) The Bush Campaign engaged in actions which can only be described in a public forum as being 'undemocratic' during the last election. The same people are involved this time.

1a) + 1b) = Bush president 2005.

2) Florida. Jeb is still in power. Florida has 27 EC votes and is perceived as one of the most crucial states to win. Currently leaning toward Bush.

3)US Supreme Court is stacked in favour of the Republicans. There are 6 republicans to 3 democrats. One of the republicans is the very scary Antonin Scalia, who is not only an extremely conservative republican, but a good mate of Cheney. To be fair to the court they did invalidate the administration's Guantanamo stance. Any Bush appeal to the Supreme court, however, will probably go his way.

4) Kerry. The Democrats nominated him not because they believed in him, but because they thought he had the best chance of winning. There is a difference between the two.

5) Nader. While I hope his run will inspire democrats to actually get out and vote, there is the danger that he would siphon off votes that would otherwise remove Bush. If anyone who likes Nader but dislikes Bush more actually votes for Nader instead of Kerry in vital state then they probably deserve Bush.

6) Voter turnout. At the last election 70% of the eligible population were registered to vote. 82% of registered voters voted. 60% of the total eligible population voted. In Britain the 2001 elections were marred by an extremely low turnout (and the re-election of Tony) - 59.1% - that was down from 71.6% in 1997. 2001 was the lowest voter turnout in Britain since 1918. The US 60% was actually an increase from the 58% in 1996. In New Zealand voter turnout in the 2001 elections was 77%, which is reasonable for a country where voting is not compulsory (unlike Australia, for instance). So the statements that assert the US 2004 election will be an extremely close election ignore the 40% of eligible Americans who probably won't bother voting. A small election turnout will favour Bush.

Damn Thesis.

2004-08-30T22:41:00.000+12:00

Damnit

Ben has figured out that I live for the hits and the comments. This could be due to his super sleuthing abilities. Or the fact that I am open about my addiction. Well, not really an addiction. More like a casual fling. I can walk away whenever I want. Self esteem not tied up with hits and feelings of rejection.

hold me.

Some things are incredibly stupid. Such as Cornelius Horan assaulting the Brazilian marathon runner.

Horan had stapled to his back the message "The Grand Prix Priest. Israel Fulfillment of Prophecy Says The Bible."

He later stated "Greece has a long tradition with Saint Paul and Alexander the Great. Christ deserves a greater honor. I am not a Jew but I love them."

Ah, yes. Alexander the Great, that famous Macedonian Christian martyr.

Horan has previously tried to convert the world by running at Formula 1 cars.

Some things make me smile. Try not to be afraid. I was talking to the daughter of the POW I'm studying. Her grandchildren are taking more of an interest (that it to say, an interest) in her Dad and family history since they heard what I'm doing. She's crediting me with that and was quite enthusiastic about it when I talked to her tonight. I'm a big fan of knowing your own history and it's pretty surreal when I find out I've influenced someone in a good (as opposed to smarmy) way. Especially when I'm just relieved/stoked they're letting me read the diaries.

Bloody thesis.

2004-08-30T15:23:00.000+12:00

Chch

Awesome Grand Prix last night. Huge number of overtaking and crashes. Given the speed of Button's crash and the direction he took into Baumgartner, I'm surprised no-one was hurt. And Mclaren won.

pause. wipe away tear. smile.

One foolish English journalist made a rather extravagant claim about Mclaren's winning ability earlier this year. Which lead to this exchange in the post race press conference.

Q: Kimi, an English journalist said he would run naked around Silverstone if McLaren won a race this year. Will you be there?
Kimi: I think so. I definitely will go and hopefully it is raining heavily, so it will be even more fun. (laughter). Lets hope that he will keep his word.

Am back in Chch and I swear my blood has frozen inside my veins. I got soft on the warm Blenheim sunshine which is ironic given that I hid myself indoors all the time.

Turned up at Vertigo the other morning to give Nic a ride to Varsity. Fi opened the door and glared at me. I'd interrupted her cooking some eggs. None for me, however. Nic, bless him, did get in the kitchen and cooked me some eggs. Not quite the same, although I'm not exactly sure why.

Damn this thesis.

2004-08-25T00:44:00.000+12:00

Old people are odd. Their oddness factor can be derived from their age when one undertakes a series of complex and mindboggling calculations that usually result in me scratching my head and drawing funny little diagrams on a pad of paper. We had the mother of my de facto uncle over for dinner tonight. See is pretty cool. Situated halfway between the Yoda-Hobbit old person continuum, she had this endearing habbit of talking about what she want to talk about regardless of a) who was talking and b) what the conversation was about. I largely gave up any pretense of listening (I'd picked her up and heard all of her stories several times before we made it home, so the fifth rendition of how her cat died wasn't that interesting). I'm a cold hearted bastard. Sitting beside the aforementioned old person were my parents. Who are also old, but in more of a David Brent meets Eddy Moonsoon kind of way. And they don't realise that they are old. They exist in the world between rationality and age, where wild hippy dancing and flower power has been replaced by cringe worthy shuffling and the me generation, obsessed with stamping out those individuals who remind them of their impending mortality or denying themselves the ravages of time. Will Harrison Ford ever age?

Not in the hearts of Ben and Miche.

The thing is, old people don't realise they are old. They've fallen into the age trap in exactly the same manner we will. Or have, depending on who is reading this.

Due to the Wahine disaster still frontpage news here, I've decided to peer into the mists of time and discover what is in store for some of you. If you don't like your future it's all your fault.

NIc: After hooking up a fancy job and travelling the world meeting all the right people, Nic suffers a freak accident while turning to tie up a shoelace and breaks.

Tim: Writes and produces successful broadway musical. Tries his hand at acting and achieves moderate success opposite Vin Diesel in Star Wars vs Marvel.

Charlie: Writes thesis. No, seriously.

Michelle: Has a brief fling with comic book guy before leaving him and Principal Skinner at the altar.

Fi: Abandons academic career to follow in the footsteps of The Rock. Hunts him down and lays down the smack. Spends spare time liberating eggs.

James C: Becomes a controversial figure in US politics after it is discovered the Republicans took his ideas on how they were going to try and win the 2004 election seriously. Not popular with the Reagans.

Bush: wins. badly.

James T: Something about a girl.

Ben: often described as a "classic Welsh writer", Ben never actually learned the Welsh language himself. Though he achieved much notoriety during his short life, he received little financial gain. It was only after his death that his work truly began to be appreciated. There is no doubt, however, that he is one of the great English (language) poets of the twenty-first century, arguably the greatest poet of our time. Ben's incredible use of metaphor, meter, and a comic wit, allows his work to stand alone, balancing a reckless neo-Romantic sensuality against the more staid Puritanism of his time and culture. Ben's lust for life and love of drink may well have contributed to his premature demise, yet his work remains, a testament to both his skill and mastery of The Word. The work of Ben has been ingrained into our modern psyche in countless ways, ranging from a surprisingly stirring recital of "Please go quietly into that good night" by none other than Tim in the 2012 movie Back To School vs Marvel (in itself proof of the poet's powerfully enduring skill) to a more highbrow choral symphony based on three of his poems.

Corey: After rapidly adapting to life in a warmer climate, Corey rises through the ranks of the Yakuza. His promising criminal career is tragically cut short after crossing Mike 'the shark' Sharkie, a shadowy underworld figure.

Mike: gave up a promising English Language career to become a popular shadowy underworld figure after hearing Thom Yorke's 'Apple is a retard name'.

Me: Boasted to the wrong people that I knew the right people. Forced to eliminate people against will, I quickly learnt how to make a hit appear like a freak accident. Became Pope after the surprising College of Cardinals election tragedy. Ruled like a god among men until, tragically, I choked on poorly cooked eggs.

2004-08-23T15:35:00.000+12:00

Great Lies I Have Told

Yes.
No.
Maybe.

Unless it gets really icy on the Kaikoura road - which I'm scared of - I'll cruise back down to Chch on Wednesday. My soccer team needs me. And I need to escape from the place which has bipassed space and time. I believe Te Rauparaha is due to attack again.

Given that I didn't expect to watch the olympics at all I've done rather well out of it. Sarah Ulmer had an awesome race. Good work to her. Have been a little pissed off with the news coverage which focuses on how many medals we've won. Winning medals is fantastic - obviously - but the react negatively to athletes who made to top 15 or 8 or whatever is pretty pathetic.

I've got nothing. Again.

2004-08-21T19:12:00.000+12:00

US magazine Forbes has listed Prime Minister Helen Clark as No 43 on their list of the world's most powerful women.

She is found on the list between the Chair and Chief Executive of Xerox, Anne Mulcahy, ranked No 42, and Chandrika Kumaratunga, the President of Sri Lanka, on 44.

Forbes consider Clark more powerful than Oprah Winfrey (No 62), JK Rowling (No 85) and a whole host of CEOs and company chairs.

Unsurprisingly the list is topped by US National Security Adviser Condolezza Rice, followed by Wu Yi, China's vice premier, and India President Sonia Ghandi.

*ENDS*

That's from Stuff.co.nz - not my twisted imagination. It's a sad day when a Neoliberal security advisor is considered more powerful than a day time talk show host with her own cultural empire that extends even into white America.

Go the rowers! Woot. And the basketballers.

2004-08-18T01:12:00.000+12:00

I have a statcounter on my site. It's largely an egotistical attempt for self-validation (note the irony) but it does through up some interesting facts. And creepy ones. Carrying on from my Canadian visitor looking for cannibal women to eat him or her, we have an Israeli casing the joint for free teen porn from Czechoslovakia. Sadly this will not work. Czechoslovakia no longer exists, having split into the Czech Republic and Slovakia in 1993. The fact that this is a blog will probably not help you in your quest for free teen porn.

One thing I have noticed lately is a large increase in the amount of traffic coming in from Japan. Specifically from Hiroshima and Fukushima. Hello Mike, Hayley and Corey. Clearly the dragonflies aren't that interesting. Funnily enough when I went to look at the country - statcounter has a function where the city of your connection is represented by a big red dot. My geography is way off. Hiroshima turns out to be in the middle of Korea.

Incidentally, The US is pulling out of Korea.

The olympics are cool. I didn't think they would drag me in but they have and they are good. And it looks like fun, winning a medal and all. Unfortunately you have to dedicate your life to a single thing, work insane hours, have a small social life, feel guilt whever not training and the chances of having a relationship are reduced due to work ethic and obsessive compulsive traits. Although the chances of brief and passionate affairs are increased due to the body being 'sculpted'.

Damnit.

We could, of course, change the events to better reflect the modern era. This would enable us to compete. I'm sure the 'Biggest Star Wars Geek' event would pull the crowds, but as I pretend to have a meaningful life that would end in immediate disqualification if I entered. The 'Biggest Drug Cheat' would be awarded posthumously but before the closing ceremony. Again, not my scene. Unless it was crack, but as even I am getting sick of that joke I won't state it. I could probably get something in the 'Most words spoken for nothing said' event, although I think Charlie would clean the floor with that one. The 'biggest procrastinator' award wouldn't be worth much because no-one would bother turning up. I could clean up in the 'Dig yourself a hole'. I could compete in both the sprint and long distance events. I told a couple of the law students in Debsoc about my Russel Mac scholarship interview and you could see their brains whirl as they attempted to figure out how I could be so... Dave. Hero to Zero (in interview) in 0.5 seconds. It's that kind of acceleration which could blow my opposition away.

Might need some interview tips for the Hall interview later in the year.

Ohhh women's beach volleyball. Should watch. Ma talked to me about 'asexualism' tonight, and how she thought people who were 'asexual' were actually gay. I'm sure that doesn't mean anything. I'm certainly not carefree and happy. *sigh*

bugger off.

2004-08-15T21:58:00.000+12:00

Well, on the day most of the South Island has been lashed with water, both the frozen and dripping, our house is as dry as the proverbial desert. *damn - Italians tripped Phil Jones and it looks like they're going to win the bball* One of the taps in the bathroom played up and kept leaking. Cue me going into the garage at 2.30am to get a big red tool box in an attempt to a) look manly for my audience and b) stop the drip. By 2.35 I was standing in the bathroom with a spanner, water still continuing to splash all over the show and a big goofy grin was on my face. I didn't break anything - I didn't even try. The image of me and a spanner was too much. Like Florida, Jeb and democracy it was tempting fate. So I went to bed. Turns out Dad, while being considerably more competant than me in most areas, couldn't quite fix it so we've had to turn off the water in an attempt to avoid sinking.

*damn - lost bball. bbastards*

Apart from that, surprise surprise, I haven't really been up to much. Except work and sleep. And swashbuckling forays into the urban jungle that is Blenheim. Actually - I ended up at a secondary schools jazz competition in the local pub. Don't ask why. It was fantastic. Good beer, good music, and they had the NPC on the screen behind the students. No-one from Marlborough, all schools were from Chch and Dunedin. And the standard of Jazz was pretty damn high. Two students stood out - one bass player who played a pretty cool bass jazz song solo and a young guitar player (hot, hot Fender) was doing a pretty good Hendrix cover while maintaining a 'look, my face has no muscles' look.

Looks like another Ferrari 1-2 tonight. McLaren had a good package but went and blew the tire choice (ha!). Damnit. P10 and p12 is too far back on this track. BAR and Reanult are up there but I don't think they'll get through. Maybe the rain.

blog more. and better. do it.

DO IT.

2004-08-12T14:47:00.000+12:00

I get some odd people visiting this site. I got a Canadian visitor who arrived at my site after finding a link from yahoo search. They'd typed in 'cannibal girls who will eat me'. Which, of course, lead to my site.

I'm not a girl. Nor will I eat you.

Interestingly it appears that I have every word in the quoted sentence above - except for 'girl'. Anyone that surprised? Certainly not mother dearest who commented a couple of nights ago that I'm going through cars faster than I have through women. It's painful when you mum starts making jokes.

Blenheim is good. It is quiet - save for the music in the background (did I tell you RH is bloody good?). They have food up here! I mean real food - like the stuff in movies, except that it was actual food and not the fake plastic props they use to make it look like food in the movies. bastards. No more cheap crap eaten on the run. At least, not for a week or so. And I can relax - which is a very odd feeling. It's, like, good.

But it is Blenheim, and there are some downsides. Such as no social life whatsoever. Less than before, even. Which is good for work. but.... At least Ben has coincided with his 'must do something... must write something... my girlfriend is a computer desk' stage with my absence. It means a) I can laugh while up here and b) I can avoid his mad descent into BBC scriptwriter (Black books on tonight!).

The mighty Aqua Marine Plastic Cups had a victory last night over the Big Kahunas (6-3), despite (or because of) the absence of their talented and skilled captain. (Me). Good work, lads. Especially Tim. Who scored.

Hmmm. Lets examine these events.
Ben attracted to computer desk.
Tim scores goal in soccer.
Something is missing. I predict something odd happening. Ball in your court, Nic.

In other exciting news... the basic points of contract law is causing controversy, Michelle is going gaga over a kitten (you go girl), and Corey has discovered that he is short in Japan.

we live in exciting times

2004-08-10T20:27:00.000+12:00

I got a comment from someone who has looked at the electoral college in much, much greater detail than I have. It's worth copying into the main blog rather than letting it hide away in a comment - I'm assuming Ed won't mind.

*starts*You may have noticed that the notes to the graph clearly state:

Remember that after some event is in the news, it takes several days before polls taken after it are reported.Well, the day the DNC starts (the marked point on the graph), Kerry has around 288 votes. Shortly after the convention is over, Kerry spikes up, then there's a counter-spike for Bush, then it settles down -- at 307 for Kerry.

How exactly, do you interpret this as the Republicans doing well?

What they've done very well is to spin the whole question of Kerry's "convention bounce", first by raising expectations of how high it would be, and then by looking for it too soon after the convention was over.

Now that sufficient time has passed, you can see the results of the Kery bounce in (1) his increased favorables in the internals of all the polls, and (2) the fact that in 13 different polling circumstances (9 polling organizations, 5 polls involving likely voters and 8 involving registered voters) Kerry leads in 11 of the 13 and is tied with Bush in 1. In only 1 poll (the CNN/USAToday/Gallup, which was the first released after the convention), does Bush, the incumbent president, with all the advantages that brings, lead, and then by only 4 points, while Kerry's leads average almost 5 1/2 (5.42).

This is a bounce. It may not last long, but it most assuredly is a convention bounce, and it just amazes me that the "bounce boat" having apparently sailed too soon, very few in the media are paying attention.

In any event, for those interested, I've posted my latest survey of Electoral College tracking / prediction / projection / forecast sites here (http://unfutz.blogspot.com/2004/08/electoral-college-survey-87.html).

Executive summary: of the 30 sites surveyed, 22 show Kerry winning, and 5 others show him ahead. Three sites show Bush winning. The approximate average of all sites is Kerry 296 - Bush 242.

And, just to note it, this is a distinct improvement over his standing in the survey I took just before the convention (http://unfutz.blogspot.com/2004/08/electoral-college-survey-81.html). *ends*

You'll have to forgive the lack of tags that were in the original message. I'm typing this on Safari (the browser, not an adventure) and Blogger doesn't provide the easy buttons on the control panel - and I'm no computer geek.

Ed clearly has a much better understanding of the whole system than I do. However, I think I should clarify my position. I wrote that entry a few days after the end of the DNC. When I checked the graph, the Republican had surged about 50 electoral college votes. Given the spin the Republicans have put on the bounce - spin which has entered the mainstream discussion and consciousness - I thinik this can be seen as doing rather well. Since that entry was written Kerry has recovered to 307.

You have to bear in mind I am extremely cynical over the whole election. I'm probably looking at polls, graph, spin and events with an overly unhealthy degree of cynicism. I want Kerry to win the election AND the presidency. But I doubt he will. Remember the cynical prediction one of us made this year/last year? 1) Regan dying. 2) Important figure being captured around DNC. 3) Attack on US soil before election. Draw your own conclusions, but Florida should have taught us all what we can expect in this era of Neoliberalism.

This is one of the only times I've wanted to be wrong. Anyway, visit Ed's site. Pretty damn interesting.

2004-08-09T00:43:00.000+12:00

I'm in Blenheim. Surprise. And if I may, just for a short while, dispense with the pretense of my online charachter and be unusually honest - this is good. I needed to get away from Christchurch. Too much routine and surliness. Too much tension - the stress wasn't the problem - I like the stess. I think the main problem was I couldn't go home or go anywhere and relax. And I'm a big fan of smiling internally (internal sunshine?). Too many percieved ghosts in chch. Ghosts avoid Blenheim... which is rather ironic if you know the grizzly details of my hidden past. I wouldn't call it a fake plastic life, but I did bust through the ceiling and turned and ran. The open sensuality of the road is always smile-worthy. As are beer and parents.

Not that I'm running from the work. Will be working full on up here. Which will be fun. Geek, I know. Nerd, I deny. I have the essentials. Work. Computer. xbox. guitar. radiohead. hmmm. someone I harrassed a lot about radiohead will be laughing to themselves when they find out about this current rabid love.

Should be a good week or two. But I still intend to live vicariously through you lot. So blog, damnit. Or email with stuff you might not want to blog.

ps. clearly not going to be able to make coffee, soccer, or running late night chocolate missions for the endorphin starved students of chch. Apologies. Now blog.

2004-08-08T15:50:00.000+12:00

Mean Machine

We were supposed to have an interfaculty soccer competition today. The Arts faculty (that is me, two history phd candidates and a bunch of non-uni people who were going to pretend to be from the Arts) turned up. As did about 15 other people from various faculties. Not such a tournament, then. Dave Miller did not turn up as he was drunk in Lincoln. I don't think we want to know why. We organised a fun game in the very slippery mud. I was fortunate enough to have shoes with sprigs. This meant I could 'run' and turn around, remain upright and not end up with my face in the mud. In theory, anyway. Sadly I'm much more fat and unfit than I was when I played properly. I blame my mid-late-early twenties. It's all downhill. Other people who could, in practice, run found themselves struggling in the conditions. Take Tim for instance. Tim is big. He is a very good defender when he can run. When he tries to run, arms and legs flailing, goes nowhere and then falls on his arse, he is a very good comedian. The same can be said for pretty much everyone who played on our team. The other team was much better but only won 5-2 because we enlisted the services of a 12 year old wonder kid. Adam scored a good goal. I scored two and set one up, but the goal I set up was for them and I also scored one of theirs. Munter.

Also, Nic is supposedly producing a cd. This might happen. One day. If he doesn't break his ankle/finger/knee/nail. Frankly, get all the songs of the bends, shove them on a cd and you've got yourself a winner. so good. so very very good.

2004-08-07T15:40:00.000+12:00

Regenerating Bush

Because I'm not very original, I steal stuff from people who are. It's the highest form of compliment. And plagiarism.... Anyway, it appears that the Republicans have done rather well out of the who DNC. The link goes to a graph which plots the electoral college votes - which, as we all remember, do not necessarily equate to the democratic (no pun intended) votes - and therefore is a much better predictor than opinion polls.

This recent Republican surge could be due to the number of terror alerts following on from the DNC. Or their policy of targeting the Amish. Then again, the Amish don't have phones so I'm not sure how they'll be polled....

Bush will win.

Revenge of the Sith will be decidedly average.

Ben will get a job.

I calls it as I sees it.

2004-08-06T14:26:00.000+12:00

WTF!

Button signed with Williams! Didn't see that coming. No-one saw that coming. Especially Dave Richards (head of BAR) who shafted Villeneuve to get Button up to number one. Ha! Sweet, poetic justice. Gotta love F1. Soap opera for men. And intelligent women.

Bring back JV.

2004-08-06T01:30:00.000+12:00

the bends

Where have I been all my life? I've recently discovered Radiohead. They are good. Do try them.

Had I said that TEN YEARS AGO I might have maintained a little bit of cred. However, I come from a land where the Spice Girls are still considered 'musicians'. That's my story and I'm sticking too it, damnit. While I did have, and enjoyed immensely, OK Computer, I've only recently laid my hands on the bends, amnesiac and Hail to the Thief. Amnesiac is good. Very good. Hail is superb - for some reason A punchup at a wedding makes me think of the storm sequence in Lear. Odd. But good. *Am re-evaluating understanding and memory of Lear*

The Bends, however, ohhh. better than crack. better than smack.

I still don't really like Kid A. Everything has a resonant frequency. Kid A taps into mine and makes me very, very angry. Go figure. One RH fanatic told me it's because I don't understand the music. it's all about the music. There is an element of truth in that - but I think a more rational explanation is that my brain is telling me to get away from the music before I, you know, shatter.

2004-08-05T14:09:00.000+12:00

Damnit

The Man has caught up with me. This ain't good, baby. Thought I'd managed to slide under his radar but just when I thought I could see white light, an escape and a life of relative normality *BANG* The Man shafts me with his Man Stick. Might leave this joint now. To where? I'm not sure. Probably either Mexico or the Sounds. I like the hombres. Not Norway. For how long? Perhaps for good. Perhaps for a week or two. I don't know. When will I leave? I don't know? When will I stop talking like a git and restart the rewriting? I don't know.

Bah.

2004-08-04T14:45:00.000+12:00

Special Prize

The next person who tells me that a)I look like crap or b)that I need to get more sleep will win a special prize courtesy some fictional mobsters I pretend to know because I only have one joke and not much of an imagination. 2 hours average is fine for thesis student. There is quite a positive upside to not sleeping much. Uni is nice, quiet, and solitary in the morning and we have some very cheerful cleaners who have taken quite a shining to me. God knows why. Reccomend the cooked breakfast at UCSA. The downside, other than perpetual surliness, is I slept through Sunday, causing concerned flatmates to brave my room in order to determine whether I was still, you know, alive. Thanks.

The above goes for the next person who tells me to run for President of the UCSA. Do I strike you as an ego-centric, arrogant tosser who is only interested in hogging the spotlight and talking about me me me me me.... Don't answer that. Still not running.

Currently writing 6 month report in order to ensure I'm not denying the holocaust happened. Damn Hayward.

2004-08-03T13:46:00.000+12:00

Procrastination

Is not necessarily a good thing but it certainly is more enjoyable than working for the Man. Instead, I have decided to become The Man and rule a nation. Work, citizens. Heh. Apparently there has already been a nation called TBALC, so either there is a parallel bunch of educated slackers out there or someone has a better grasp of procrastination than me.

Damn 6 months reports.

2004-08-02T04:23:00.000+12:00

Hamish call your Mother

I don't know Hamish, but apparently he is in Prague. His parents do not know this and have put out an international missing person's report. My bet is that he crossed one Charlina too many and now swims with the fishes, indicating that I am an incredibly poor gambler.

Artificial light is everywhere at the moment. Fluorescent lightbulbs, computers, heaters, false prophets etc are all blindingly bright. But not warm at all, damnit. In two weeks I've gone from leaving Uni at 3.30am to arriving at uni at 3.30am. Not a very bright lad, but such a trooper.

Am looking out for the advertisements that will ask me to tutor at a hall next year. That will be good. Free food, accommodation, warmth and fat fat internet cable. ohhh baby.

In between bouts of work and sleep I've seen some interesting things on the box. Not interesting in an educational manner - just... odd. For example, late night on Fox News (and Friends) I heard the following exchange:
Ben Stiller look alike: The markets are waiting to see what will happen in November. They're afraid of Kerry. Kerry is a socialist.
Other guy: You can't call Kerry a socialist! That's un-American.

Kerry is a socialist? He's going to repeal the tax cuts Bush gave to the richest 2% and keep the rest of the tax cuts in place. That's not going to do anything to save Medicare, education or the elderly. It does sound good, because the richest 2% wouldn't vote for him anyway. Most countries would probably align Kerry as being centre or even centre right. He's liberal on some social issues, but his affirmation of Bush's tax cuts and plan to increase the military are certainly right wing. I am a little astounded to hear him being labeled alongside Castro as 'socialist'. Has political commentary in the US sunk so low that political names are thrown at each other irrespective of factual accuracy?

To call that comment un-American is almost as jaw-droppingly surreal as the socialist comment itself. I'm not sure if anyone outside the US knows what 'American' means anymore - we all have our own ideas based on our perceptions, optimism and cynicism. I thought 'America' was symbolic of freedom and liberty at one time and presumed that was how they saw themselves today. But to say that calling Kerry socialist is un-American - that goes against that presumption.

Calling the Kerry a girlie-man is ok, however. Fantastic. We can now study the Eastern bloc through homophobic cliches and bigotry.

And finally I saw the answer to the age old question 'what would happen if the world's biggest rubber band ball was dropped out of an airplane a mile above the earth. A helicopter crashed into power lines during the filming. Cue interviews with crew. Being scientific and all, the team at Ripley's simulated the experiment with a big drum filled with water (to give it rubbery properties) and pushed that out of the plane. It hit the ground and went bang. Questions were asked. Would the rubber band ball go bang? Or crater? Or explode? Viewers were left what would happen if the presenter fell out of the plane. Given her qualifications, one can only presume that she would float gently to the ground before flashing her eyes and opening her mouth at the camera to indicate that she was either a) surprised b)excited or c)a goldfish. 17 cameras were located in 17 different areas (we only saw footage from 2). They pushed the ball out of the plane. It fell to the ground. Presenter was surprised and excited. It hit the ground at 400mph, created a crator, bounced and exploded. Presenters qualifications bounced also. Good. Kerry could nationalise them, if they haven't been so already.

2004-07-31T13:27:00.000+12:00

Vroom

Honours has finally finished. Obvious, I hear you say, as I finished honours over 18 months ago. But a bunch of us carried through and did our Masters together. Most of them have finished (having an ethic and all). Sarah has a flash job in archives New Zealand, up in Wellington. Nice. And Mike and Hayley step on the plane today, with Corey, to go to Japan. Jimbo is going to Britain in a month or two. Angela to Canada soon also.

In the course of the last week and a half I've been to three going away dinners, one going away breakfast, and a going away party. Fat bastard.

It feels quite weird to be left behind. Not that I want to go, but Japan is a long way away. Then again Mike and Hayley, unlike some, aren't the type of people to move away and then deny that we still exist. Am trying to convince them to blog. Blog is the answer to everything. Except perhaps for work because if blog was the answer for work then surely Ben would have blogged more than what he has been doing lately. Even Nic has blogged more - letting us know the crime weather in Saskatoon is disturbingly charmingly revealing.

Right. I'm going to cocoon myself in a lots of work. That, at least, isn't going anywhere.

2004-07-29T15:35:00.000+12:00

Tool for good

Blogs can be used for all sorts of nifty things. Like getting yourself noticed and invited to the Democratic Convention. I turned down that opportunity to spend more time with the sis and try and beat some lovin out of it. Would be fun to be there though. I'll always be amused by a large organisation who believes that it can replace the prince of evil with a trial lawyer. Didn't they see The Devil's Advocate? Sure, it may have been based on fiction - but so is the current political climate in the United States. Still, the democrats seem to have that wide eyed dreamy look people get after being in a cult too long or eating McDonalds. Still, their blind faith that the winner of the presidency will be decided by the winner of the election makes me feel all warm and gooey inside. The tension backstage must be fantastic. You have Bill, who wishes that he was still president and that more people would buy his book; Hilary, who wants to president and wishes that more people would buy her book; Al, who should be president and wishes that more people would buy his book; Jimmy, who was president and wishes he knew where he was; and Teresa, who just wishes everyone would shove it. The tension in front of the stage must be equally electric. You have the democrats who are really republicans; and the people who came with Carter.

I reckon it'd be more fun to nominate a stiff and get GB2 to campaign against a corpse. Wait a minute....

2004-07-27T17:58:00.000+12:00

Alacrity

It's not the stuff that powers your television, stereo or egg-cooker. It's the stuff that powers my quick witted responses to your collective attempts to kick me due to my quick witted responses to your collective inability to cook me some eggs. And it's going to come in handy tonight. The alacrity, that is, not the eggs. Debsoc is having its impromptu speech competition. There are prizes - including cash and chocolate. The woman inside me is excited (if she'd cooked me some eggs I wouldn't have been hungry).

All this means that I am a little hyperactive. Not the type of hyperactivity that Tim gets into after skulling a case of KGB (see Arnie's comments on the girlie-men). More like the hyperactivity of a small child, neglected by parents but loved and cherished by television, coke and food dye. I'm bouncing off the walls, baby. Hoohar.

Hyperactivity can come in handy when giving impromptu speeches. It is far better than the traditional Dave response of looking out into the distance and seeing meadows filled with buttercups and the goat-women whenever anybody says something - probably explains why I appear distracted and grumpy all the bloody time. It is also better than freezing on stage and giving an adequate impression of a possum in the headlights.

Problems with hyperactivity do occur when they resemble the effects of crack cocaine. I've spent three months and four visits to various detox facilities (now closed - bastards) and only one of them was technically legit.

Damn time's moving slow. Feel like I've been staring at the ceiling and wondering what an earth a 'goat-woman' is - I was thinking a Swiss girl who milks goats in a buxom and environmentally friendly yet temptingly available way. You lot probably thought that I was after the female goats. I can deny that. I'm waiting for an appropriate time to roll around so that I can go and get some 'food' from the UCSA, watch the telly and then go and win that booty. 6.15 now. Started at 6.

Time for stream of consciousness. Brought to you by Ritalin which helps prevent them.

The problem with the steam of consciousness is that as soon as you attempt to tap in to the wonders of your subconscious psyche, your subconscious invokes it's R.O.A.R policy. Bastards. For me, and probably most of us although as I'm talking complete bollocks I can't really quantify that, my subconscious is a vast bar-like facility where all the decent stuff takes place. There is the id, hiding in the corner and oogling at most things female, the drunk and half-mad author who is determined that his craft won't be corrupted by the yawning open spaces of my conscious, there's probably a goat woman or two slinking around the back somewhere. And there is also that annoying little twat who manages to blurt out the most unfortunate, inappropriately amusing comments in the most unfortunate and inappropriate times. Like during scholarship interviews (cost me $50,000 - wanker), courtship proceedings (cost me potential ladyfriends), court proceedings (cost me 'freedom'), and drinking sessions (cost me teeth). The disturbing thing about this whole stream of consciousness (other than the fact that I'm writing a stream of consciousness) is that my subconscious is more and more resembling Dylan Moran's character in Black Books, whom I suspect is based very heavily on Dylan Moran himself. This is terrifying for a number of reasons. 1) I'm going to end up surrounded by books, Based on my recent library fines - and the fact that I am a 'student' you may think that I enjoy being surrounded by pies and piles and lines and lines of the world's most fantastic literature and thought. But, no. I hate it. It's terrible. Books scare me. I don't really like intelligent and intellectual discussions. That's why we get on so well. 2) I imagine my mouth shooting off would become far worse if I was under the influence of alcohol. I suspect the drop to the head I suffered when I was several weeks old, and then every second year for the next 12 may have resulted in a permanent state of intoxication. At least that makes me cheap. But not easy and that leads me to argument 3) He never scores. I don't like that and it seem to be a familiar plot device in that made action movie that is Dave. Action with no action is, well, lame. Frankly, if my life is odd enough to have the things that happen to me happen to me, it deserves action. How many people have been cut open by the worlds most surgically talented but woefully inept car-pirate? Not many. How many people wake to find that the council has put a bus stop around their car during the night and fined them for the profiled? Not many. Ergo more action and less Moran for Dave.

6.35. I'm going for food. Vote for the girlie-men.

2004-07-26T14:04:00.000+12:00

Painful

If you'd read it in a book you wouldn't necessarily believe it. Kimi is a couple of seconds behind Shumi after the first pitstop, has more fuel in, in catching the Ferrari and has just set the lap record. Then, of course, his rear wing falls off while travelling 300kph. Apart from that - good race. At least Mclaren are on the pace again. DC would've made the podium save for his front wing and deflector being damaged by Kimi's accident.

Baumgartner has blisters on hands after the stadium section. Hard to believe that they can drive a f1 car without power steering.

Good work to Si for his cheap laughs. There is something inherently funny in Tony Soprano's inner kitten bunny being externalised, pumped full of steroids and made to attack Tony's Icelandic crime rival, Stuart Petefuck. They now have a show each fortnight. We should make it a thing.

2004-07-24T14:14:00.000+12:00

Public Service Announcement

1) I'm not commenting.
2) I'm really quite confused.

The two are not related.

2004-07-23T16:04:00.000+12:00

Man-hair

Am now more hairy than what I have been for a long time. Part of me likes it, part of me doesn't. It's warmer and more rugged. Then again, it is warmer and more rugged. Regardless, I've now splurged and bought a new razor so that I can shave without inverting my skin-flesh ratio. Time, I think for the handlebar moustache to make a reappearance in the world of style.

Blog you lazy bloggers. Or I'll do to you what I did to Lennon.

Dave: 'John, Yoko. Yoko, John'.

2004-07-21T12:06:00.000+12:00

Update

Looks like I might be moving into an office soon. Awesome. My name in lamination.

2004-07-21T06:45:00.000+12:00

It is currently quarter to 7 in the morning. Am still at varsity waiting for the main cafe to open at 7.30 so that I can go and buy a hot, meaty breakfast for $5 and read the paper. mmm protieny goodness.

I have finished my draft chapter which I've been working on for far to blimmin long. And, I gotta say, that feels pretty damn good. Should have been done months ago, but in the absence of anything that resembles my old work ethic I'm just going to lean back in a blurry-eyed daze and enjoy my reality for a minute or two.

I am a little concerned as to what has happened to my work ethic. Once upon a time I could work for hours upon hours without really caring - churning through the work at a great rate of knots. Caffeine pills helped, as they are wont to do - hallucinating small children with pigs heads chasing me home was not so fun. Well, to be fair to myself, I still can churn through the work when I feel the urge and the desire. Problem: Dave lost his mojo.

It's not under my desk or anywhere where I can tangibly find and touch it. I don't think I lent it to Tim or Ben. Regardless - I'm not planning to touch them any time soon.

I think the main problem is that to a very real and large extent work has come to define who I am and what I do. I study and therefore I angst. I think and therefore I wish I didn't. It cracks me up when I run into people who haven't seen me for ages - and the first thing they ask - because they are interested and because they do care - is how the thesis is going. And it's always going.

The thesis doesn't exactly put out a lot. Fortunately I now have xbox love and it will put out when I tell it to.

Am starting to miss playing golf quite a bit. Ironic, given that I had to stop playing when I was 16 and it's only now that the urge to chase a little white ball all over the friggen golf course has returned (save for a brief, memorable and furnituresquelly rewarding summer of 2000). Getting outside and seeing the sun/smog while not being groped by eight hairy and ugly blokes could be quite a good idea. The problem with golf is that it does cost money. I've got all the gear etc, but by the time you pay for fuel, balls etc....

Fortunately, in the blurry-reality induced state, I've come up with a genius of a plan to get my money, save the day and win the girl.
Step 1) Infiltrate Al Quaeda.
Step2) Don't get caught.
Step 3) Find important and incriminating documents and the whereabouts of Osama.
Step 4) Hijack Osama and fly him to a remote location with access to video phone, warm shower and a change of clothes.
Step 5) Offer both Osama and incriminating documents to the highest bidder. All bids are to be in the form of monetary goods, although guarantees of spiritual (and physical) bliss in the afterlife will be taken into account. 'We won't kill you' will not be a valid option.
Step 6) Once the money and spiritual bliss have been deposited in the appropriate accounts and channeled through various winebox companies, I leave the island by jetski - conveniently located beside the deserted island and placid ocean.
Step 7) Find a really good plastic surgeon. Carve face into menacing smile so no-one will recognize me.
Step 8) Dye my hair green and wear bright red lipstick and a purple suit.
Step 9) Take 'care' of Michael Keaton.
Step 10) Take 'care' of Kirsten Dunst.

2004-07-20T21:50:00.000+12:00

The difference between Rumour and Gossip

Lest one think that this blog is the creative outlet of an idle mind, I have decided to address the extremely complex, inarticulate and controversial topic of gossip and rumour in order to dispel some of the more ridiculous notions of the two.

Gossip and rumour are two different concepts. Rumour is 'the common talk' or a popular report. Gossip is intimate or scandalous rumour, or a British godparent.

In order to put this into perspective I will use contemporary examples and link them back to the above definitions. If we take the current National parties decision to imprison anyone related to a criminal and detain them in a large, inescapable quarry for the rest of their 'unnatural' lives in order to create an atmosphere of trust, love and companionship among the 'free majority' on the outside. This manifesto is clearly a populist pandering to the knee-jerk, Muldoonesque voters who want nothing more than to see NZ's surplus turned into a 19th century penal colony. Not only is it populist, it also appears to be popular. It is thus classified as 'rumour' as it is a popular report. I might add that it is idle rumour as no-one in National has bothered to really think about the social, political or economic ramifications of 1984. I'd prefer a brave new world. More drugs. More sex.

Gossip is an interesting topic. A number of us may or may not have been accused of being gossips by our man in London, Charles. I was once of the opinion that this meant that my idle an wagging tongue caused him grief - although I was confused as this made him to my eyes an introvert. Charlie is no introvert. Imagine my glee and surprise when I discovered that a gossip was actually a British godparent. Am slightly relieved that my idle chit-chat has not offended an esteemed colleague and drinking partner, and touched that his firstborn is my godson. So congratulations to Charlie, Charlina and Charleston.

2004-07-19T18:55:00.000+12:00

Surprise

James T has found his blog. Am relieved as for while I thought that Wellington was indeed the ultimate frontier *shudder*. This now means that most people are either acquainted with, or have been reacquainted with the powerful voice that is blog. Not all people have, however, and I think/decree that the following people should get one. Charlina.

Tim should relearn how to use his.

Watched the final round of the British Open last night. It was awesome. 3 holes to go and Ernie Els was 3 shots behind Todd Hamilton. Hamilton has a strange resemblance to the T-1000. Else pulls out a birdie, birdie par and the T-1000 has a par, par, bogey. This forces 4 extra holes - aggregate. It's 6.30 in the morning and I'm silently screaming at the tv (as to not wake the flatmates) to hurry up and finish but secretly I'm stoked as the quality of play was absolutely outstanding. Best I've seen in a long time - actually the only I've seen in a long time but that is beside the point. Take my word that it was good. Els has a par, par, bogey, par and T-1000 had par, par, par, par to clinch the British Open. Am also pleased that a murdering, rampaging machine of death can serve it's time in the undiscover'd country, return, come from nowhere to win the Open (500-1 odds) and become a role model for hundreds of kids the world over.

Someone tell Brash.

2004-07-18T18:25:00.000+12:00

Life in a cold climate

Good to see that Blogger is introducing more spangly things into the text menu. Like colour. Not that colourful text is really any good at all. Unless, of course, you are ten years old and feel the need to hide from your teacher that you have no idea what you were talking about and stumble upon the idea that colourful words might take the teacher's opinion and focus away from that dreadful storyline with no plot, little character development and dialogue that resembled George Lucas' deranged rantings on love and its resemblance to sand.

I had a meeting with Graeme (supervisor no 1) on Friday and I'm not really sure how it went. Why? Well, I turned up 3 hours late which probably wasn't that useful or endearing. I have a very good excuse, of course. Thursday night had seen Nic, Fi, Will, Ben and I travel to BP on Fendalton road to pick up some much needed Pie after welcoming Si (still not fat) back and grooving along with Vibraslap and Micky Finn's. On the way back to town to drop Will, Nic and violent, violent Fi back we (thankfully) noticed that there was a great big lamp-post in the middle of the road. Which we avoided and dropped Will off. Fi was quite keen on calling the police but the others shouted her down and called her mean names. I was too busy trying to avoid the lampposts to really have any say in the matter. After dropping Nic and Fi off to go to bed/spend more time fighting/ring the cops Ben and I decided that we'd better go a try and move the big lightpost/lamp-post out of the traffic. Discovering that it was to big to move out of one lane without putting it in another, we rang Vertigo and asked Pete to tell the others to make sure the cops were called - Nic's muffled screams as Fi targeted his ankle using her patented 'elbow o' doom' was amusing. Sadly, both Ben and I are imbued with some form of 'community spirit'. For this I blame my parents and Ben's parents. It cost me much sleep. While waiting for the police to turn up we tried to wave cars into the correct lane. Unfortunately the downed big thing that used to have a light on the end was located on a semi-blind corned on Fendalton Road just over the railway tracks heading toward town. Which meant that Ben and I would wave frantically at cars who would then slam on their break and miss us and the big think by mere inches. We certainly stopped one insanely fast taxi-van (complete with trailer) from hitting the bulb with his right front wheel at pace. (The bulb was 2/3 over the inside right lane). It has to be said that I appeared pretty cowardly. When cars drive at me fast, years of conditioning in Blenheim have taught me not to play chicken. It is better to act chicken and live to run away screaming like a little girl another day. So I was pretty close to diving over the median barrier a couple of times. Not Ben, however. Despite the fact he was wearing a fetching, bright red jumper - which made him a better target - he stood even further away from safety than I, and never flinched once. It's that kind of disregard for his own physical and mental wellbeing which makes him perfectly suited to having a relationship.

Anyway - after doing that for 3/4 of an hour to an hour the bloke from Orion showed up and swore a lot. I think he preferred the days of yore when posts were concrete posts, and crazy drivers who drove into them were dead.

Naturally, Ben and I dot to bed much later than we were expecting - I thus slept in and missed the meeting with supervisor. Met with him later. Odd meeting. Two main points. 1) I have a very fascinating and good thesis and thesis structure. 2) It is very odd and no-one has ever structured a thesis like this before.

Maybe it needs more colour.

2004-07-14T21:25:00.000+12:00

Aqua Marine Plastic Cups 2 - 5 8 Pack

The soccer did not go exactly according to plan. They scored more goals than we did and therefore we do not go through. Unsurprisingly Nic and Hamish managed to injure themselves again, although the red shoes are cool. Tim also managed to sprain his ankle tonight at netball (soft) and I will probably dislocate my shoulder or something at rugby on Saturday (hard).

Good work to those three of you who managed to drag yourself away from stuff to support us. The rest of you will need to consult your tires.

I need a new joke.

Just now in Sara's flat:

Tim: Ben, are you going in and out of the closet?
Ben: I want coke.

Nice means of avoiding the innuendo. As is going to bed at 9.30PM and thus avoiding any possible form of innuendo. Especially good kind. Not that staying up late has necessarily worked wonders.... Anyway, quit listening to Frank Hayden on talkback and reclaim your hobbling life. You know who you are.

This is good. Laptop on knee and me listening and laughing at (never with)Ben, Tim and Sara. Who need thesis? Incidentally it is going quite well and providing I don't find myself watching Tim and Ben play some lame playstation game in the middle of the afternoon too often I think I'll be on track. To, you know, finish. Finished a detailed, revised (10th edition) thesis plan - target word count between 36 and 44,000 words excluding footnotes etc. Which is good. Bonsai!

In Debating apparently we have a speech competition that has, as prizes, 'plenty of booty, shiny trophies and plenty of serious cash'. You know I'm there. Then I can fund my own talkback show and be able to have conversations with old man X.

2004-07-13T17:54:00.000+12:00

AMPC solid

It has been a while between blogs and a number of things have happened. Nic has rediscovered to keyboard and is actually blogging. Ben has reinvented the blog as the forum for classic comedic novellas. Nice. Tim has gone into hiding. Or perhaps since his thesis to a large extent defined his place in the space-time continuum, he no longer exists. Damn hippy. And Si saw Gomez. Am jealous and am secretly hoping that all the American twinkies he's been secretly eating have made him bigger than Michael Moore.

The Aqua Marine Plastic Cups have stormed into the semi finals of the Wednesday indoor soccer lead. Ha. Take that, Putteridge High. Our mixture of rugged good looks, skill, talent and Corey have combined into a largely unstoppable force for self-interested good. We each have our own unique role as outlined below.

DS (me): striker. Combines a large mass with deceptive acceleration and a complete disregard for the laws of gravity and/or physics to be one of the leading goalscorers of the team and (because it is my blog and I'll say what I want) of the competition.

Corey: Captain and Midfield. Utilizes insane level of fitness to run around a lot and generally arrives in the right place at right time to score goals or piss off the shorter members of the opposition.

Tim: Defense and Goal. Uses the 'weasel' method of defense. That is, acts like an epilectic weasel in front of the bunny with the ball. Bunny confused, weasel swoops in for the ball/knee of bunny. Has famously lead to short old gnomish man picking fight with 6'6" Tim.

Mike: Defense and Goal. The disaffected youth pin up of the team, Mike often uses his natural soccer skills with contact lenses to frustrate and block the oppositions offensive offense. Then again, sometimes he neglects to wear contacts and runs at anything that moves.

Nic: Midfield. One of the most effective attacking options of AMPC, Nic has not been utilized often enough. Sadly this is because he is soft and often breaks. Hopefully he will be fit to play in the Semi's on Wednesday with his new and shiny red shoes.

Hamish. Midfield and Goal. The enforcer of the team, Hamish's famed aggression and refusal to back down has lead to several incidents with opposition players and the ref. Voted most likely to interfere with someone's ability to breathe, Hamish often combines well up front with DS or Corey.

Dave M. Goal and right flank. Gets the ball out of the goal faster than the opposition ever expects, this old man can run circles around most of the even older men who play on a Wednesday. His skills in soccer are sadly offset by his fanatical support of Everton FC.

Amanda. Cheerleader. Unsure if Amanda comes to support the team play soccer, or encourage an English style football hooliganism. Might explain Hamish. Has stated that AMPC isn't as bad as she thought we would be.

The semi is at 6.30, Action Indoor Sports, Wednesday. We are playing at Old Trafford, which is the big stadium in the outside building. Awesome. We want and need supporters and if you don't come I know some people who know some people who slit some tires.

2004-07-06T16:59:00.000+12:00

Dagnamit

I did blog yesterday, and on my clipboard it comes up as being posted. It does not, however, appear to have posted correctly. No matter. Not the best post anyway, lacking all of my sparkling wit - or whatever it is you people come to my site to read. Personally, I have my suspicions. Procrastinators! Go do some work. Except for you, Ben and Tim. Go look for a job and stop eating up my hard earned tax dollars.

This looks cool. This looks cooler.

In breaking news It appears a ceasefire has been signed between TBALC and the United States after the fall of Honolulu last night. Details are sketchy, however it appears that one of the key points was for a Musical to be performed on Broadway. Confirmed stars include Vin Diesel as Tim, Matt Damon as Si, Ben Affleck as Nic, Dylan Moran as Ben and Orlando Bloom will cameo as Charlina. In Britain Si has appointed Charlie the Earl of Wessex - who has controversially stated that the 'We' in 'Wessex' is silent. Bush has stated that Tim and Ben are not losers. More to follow.

Anyway....

2004-07-05T17:33:00.000+12:00

Things I didn't expect to read

Greece 1 Portugal 0
An American visitor finding my site with this search.
A Malaysian visitor finding my site with this search. Everyone should eat at Dave.
Two words. 'Life coach'.

I can't really be assed. Have flu. Don't care. Go the black caps.

2004-07-02T14:17:00.000+12:00

Sign of the Apocalypse

I have it on good authority that Tim will submit today - and (more importantly) the registry will accept it. So in a premature outburst that hopefully will not come back to hurt me I say 'Awesome'. I believe TBALC will soon alter its constitution to include having a Masters thesis.

But if we take the event of Tim finishing his thesis and examine it on a global scale, what does this mean for the people? Well, firstly, it is one of the signs that the apocalypse is nigh.

Other recent signals have included:
Ben getting a real life girlfriend.
Charlie getting a real life girlfriend.
Nic not having a girlfriend.
Si is in the States but is not yet fat (enough).
James has a 'long term positioning strategy' - yet included comments....
US Supreme Court laying the smack over the Bush admin.
Mark actually stating the (creepy creepy) obvious.

Personally, I'm hoping that the four apocalyptic horsemen turn out to be hollow chocolate bunnies.

Secondly, it seriously undermines the superstructure of the political science department. Not many people are aware that Tim is actually a crucial support beam after having the department built around him. Now they will only have structure....

Thirdly, the NIAA will have the smack laid on it, Tim styles.

Finally, registry can go home with their tires not being slit. This is probably good for all concerned.

Regardless of the immediate and long term impact of the event, big ups to the big man.

2004-07-01T16:08:00.000+12:00

Hmmm

The good thing about being gutted is that your waistline improves.

2004-06-30T03:12:00.000+12:00

Ohh dear

Tim is currently trying to guess my second name. I'm trying not to distract him. Now singing 'I'm going slightly mad'. The man is a musical.

I have not yet managed to lose my standard two habit of insulting the girls I'm attracted to. For example, it might not be the best idea to call someone 'mutie', or make the call 'Quiet, mute girl' when they are sick, in pain and cannot talk, no matter how funny it may be. I am thus a munter. At least I'm a funny munter.

McLaren's new car looks worse than the old car. Damn the tires - damn them!

When we last left our superhero TBALC soldiers they were regrouping after a successful attack on Hawaii. I'm please to report that latest communications from the group have reported the capture of the Island of Maui and the initial stages of a report on Honolulu. Diplomatically there is mixed news. GB2 has marshaled an alliance of nations to counter the 'terrorist threat' of TBALC. The 'Coalition of the Willing Mach 2' consist of the USA, Great Britain, Australia, the Philippines, South Korea and Don Brash, although he may change his mind according to the polls. On the other hand, TBALC has secured recognition from the French and German governments and has established an embassy through Hamish who is currently hungover somewhere in Prague (I think). Si, Charlie, Charlina and Dan have successfully over-run Buckingham Palace and Si Young is poised to crown himself as king and lord of the realm. And Wisconsin has ceded from the USA and has joined Canada in support of TBALC. We're not really sure why.

2004-06-28T00:26:00.000+12:00

Breaking News

There have been confirmed reports that the reality-separatist movement known as TBALC have stormed and captured the island of Lanai, a small but strategically important island in the Hawaii group. Analysts say that from Lanai the TBALC armed wing could attack the islands of Maui, Mokalai or even the capital, Honolulu.

Little is known about TBALC or its aims. Spokesman for the political wing of the group, Ben Allen has stated that a pre-emptive strike on Hawaii was necessary for the survival of TBALC. Hawaii, he stated, had recently been stockpiling nuclear and biological weapons for use against TBALC and its various associates.

"Unless we attack Hawaii," Mr Allen stated, "Then TBALC runs the risk of having Hawaii attack it. We cannot, as peace loving people, allow this to happen. Peace can only be guaranteed by eliminating the biological and nuclear risk that Hawaii poses."

According to most experts, Hawaii does not pose much of a threat to anyone. When we tried to contact Mr Allen to substantiate his allegations he could not be reached due to his girlfriend being tired.

Hans Blix, former UN weapons inspector, would not comment on camera today, but off camera he could not stop laughing.

President George W. Bush commented on the invasion of foreign troops earlier this evening. "Earlier today, I was informed, that, an dangerous and terrorist organization attacked the United States of America in a violent, dangerous manner. This unprovoked attack is in violation of international law. It is in violation of our law. We are a peaceful people. We do not want war brought to our shores. Make no mistake about it, we will hunt these criminals down and bring them to a fair and open military tribunal which will accord them with every respect of our law. And when I talk about international law, I'm talking about the law that the international community - countries like Japan and Canada, Britain, Australia and, and Africa - hold dear and want us to protect - and these countries want us to - what I mean to say is, is we will hunt the criminal down."

France has stated that it will do nothing. It might, however, veto any action the United States brings to the security council.

It is understood that to date there have been no casualties in a remarkably bloodless invasion. Local civilians have been permitted to return to their homes to carry out their business. "We have nothing against the civilians", local commander Tim Street stated in an exclusive interview earlier today. "What we have a problem with is the man. Today, tomorrow, the day after tomorrow and the day after the day after tomorrow will see us sticking it to the man." Mr Street would not elaborate who The Man is, and experts are divided as to who exactly The Man could be.

TBALC has classified captured soldiers and policemen to be 'enemy combatants'. Colin Powell, when asked to comment, muttered something about that bloody Donald Rumsfeld.

For news as it comes to hand.

ps thesis is clearly coming along nicely.

2004-06-23T23:08:00.000+12:00

Devastating Dave

I am almost proud to admit that I defy several laws of nature. These are, in no particular order:

Thou must conform to social norms. Such as sleeping patterns. Bollocks, I say. Bollocks. I said it again. Sleeping patterns are for pansies. Real men, like Spike, Angel and myself, don't need the social constraints of norms such as 'daylight'.

Murphy's Law. Not to be mistaken with having 10,000 spoons when all you need is a knife. That's neither ironic nor Murphaic. What would be ironic would be being in a knife store, needing a knife and there not being a knife. Regardless, I have defied Murphy's law of embarrassing things going wrong at inopportune moments and replaced it with Dave's law. Which is amusing things going wrong most of the time. Such as the bus story or the pirate story - which wasn't so funny at the time but the drugs make everything funny and colourful.

The law of using the first person when blogging. Dave don't recognize no law. Dave is the law. *ergo self recognition is something of a problem*

As can be seen in my 1980s turntabling bling bling days. Respect the threads.

2004-06-21T17:23:00.000+12:00

I walk with the dead

My sleeping patterns now officially suck, and I am therefore changing my name to that Vampire with attitude - Spike. Not that we're really that similar. He's undead, I'm unliving. He's platinum blond, I'm brown. He scored Buffy, I didn't. Apart from that....

Claire and I saw The Punisher last night. It had lots of bang. Am consistently surprised that someone as intelligent as Claire is attracted to plots with little or no intellectual pizzaz. It did, however, have Thomas Jane half naked for about half the movie and I think that might have something to do with it. Officially, he does nothing for me.

Mclaren still suck, although less than they previously did - having both finished the Indy GP and are now ahead of Sauber with 17 points - only 19 points behind Williams who have not finished a GP for 2 races. Ralph crashed spectacularly and am surprised he can still move. Big bang. And Minardi won a point. Awesome. You will note, Tim, that the big canary team that is Jordan did not score a point.

I'm off to stalk the living.

2004-06-18T15:18:00.000+12:00

Argh, no, don't do it son!

Mercedes look like they are going to buy out Mclaren.

Sadly, that would mean I could no longer support the team.

Which is probably good for my long term mental health.

2004-06-17T23:11:00.000+12:00

Ohhh, bugger

Since I've started this wretchard exercise (re: blogging) I've written 39,323 words in blog. Which is the equivalent to a Masters thesis. I'd like to point out that I have written more than that on my real thesis. But I haven't finished my thesis. This taunts me at night/day/whatever time zone I happen to be inhabiting at said time of taunting like food I purchased from a vending machine that refuses to drop from the shelf and instead hangs in mid air, suspended by a piece of plastic I may or may not want to destroy but am powerless to do so if I so desire because of plastic/glass that separates us, and the norms that society has placed on my fragile alpha-male identity.

Who thought I could babble in a blog? Don't answer that.

Incidentally, Corey is mad.

Apparently Richie McCaw's psychometric tests were better after the knock to the head he suffered last Saturday than they were when he took them while injury free.

Conclusion: rugby makes you smart.

I'm happy and angry.

2004-06-16T15:54:00.000+12:00

Who knew?

Andy Kaufman is back from the dead and blogging. I would have thought a television appearance on Letterman or Leno or even Springer would have been appropriate. But he has the right photo, so it couldn't possibly be anyone else.

Sleep deprivation is a lot like being drunk - at least, that's the excuse I'm sticking to. I can give up any time I want.

Chch is the 107th most expensive city in the world. Wellington and Auckland are, surprise surprise, more expensive. The problem with this study is that it uses US$100 and then compares what you can buy in New York for US$100 with other cities. A lot of it has to do with the exchange rate, I'm thinking.

Mclaren got points. I would like to thank Renault, Williams and Toyota for either breaking down or being disqualified and allowing this confusing event to occur. To put it in perspective - even both Jordan's scored points. Tim likes them because they are yellow. And that sums them up, really.

I got nothing.

2004-06-15T17:05:00.000+12:00

I taste like burning

There are numerous things wrong with this world. I can't help feeling that my sleeping patterns are one of them. This is not said through some arrogant, self centered approach to the world which deems my sleeping patterns to be more important than the lives of countless Iraqis or Sudanese. It is said through the arrogant and self centered approach to my life. Sleeping patterns can help determine my approach to day to day (night to night) activities which in turn influence how I see and approach the world. In an attempt to shock myself back into something resembling a sleeping pattern, I was here bright and early this morning. Still here, although I did cheat with a nap on my office floor. Work, of course, is completely out of the question as I struggle to recognize the difference between the door and the wall so trying to figure out complex social theory would be out the window (pun intended).

The end result is I think I'm resembling a dangerously out of control Masters student unable to tell the difference between right and wrong, answerable to no man and only the right (wrong) kind of woman. The road is a terrible mistress. This is a terrible metaphor.

The court case over the Pledge of Allegiance was predictable resolved due to the father not really being the father. This is lame.

Five justices -- led by Justice John Paul Stevens -- said Michael Newdow, the father, did not have the legal standing to bring the case. Newdow, who is involved in a custody dispute with the mother of their third-grade daughter, could not speak for the girl, the court ruled.

The minority decision said that constitutionally there was no problem with freedom of speech and called Newdow (the Dad/not-Dad) a 'heckler'. Hmmm. Ashcroft likes this ruling.

But in good news, Fi has her own blog. Feminism everywhere rejoices and the chances of her ever cooking me some eggs is diminished greatly. Do not confuse her blog with this site or this catalogue.

2004-06-14T00:50:00.000+12:00

Imagine being a Kennedy

It'd be terrible, really. I mean, good looks, good looking broads, millions of dollars and a life above the law doesn't necessarily equate to happiness, now, does it?

Ben has a lot of harassment coming his way. Up and down the country, world even - if you can be up and down the world - members of Ben affiliated groups are rubbing their hands together and cackling wildly with a)genuine happiness and b)sweet sweet revenge on their minds. There may or may not be a good post coming soon from somebody who may or may not be Nic who may or may not have been on the receiving end of Ben-wrath in the past. But that's merely speculation.

All Black vs England turned out to be very good indeed. Watching the game was improved sitting near Sarah and Emma who appeared to feel every tackle and testicle grabbing moment of the game.

And on that note, the SGC had a close fought game on the weekend, going down in the last few minutes. Grr. I managed/tried to stop 3 fights during the course of the game. I'm a lover, not a fighter. As evidenced by the fact that I had 8 men lie on me at once. Which is probably around 640 kilograms of man vs Dave. Dave lost.

As, no doubt, will Mclaren.

2004-06-12T17:12:00.000+12:00

On pies, good and bad

Stumbling home (or, more accurately my crashing point of Vertigo) late last night after escorting Emily (not Caygill who seems to have gone to ground) home I hid the press I'd borrowed from some rich looking people - it is what Che would do - and entered Shell to fill my belly with pie goodness. I was surprisingly drunk due to the benevolence of Mr Grouse and Ben's little voice popped into my head. Buying the most expensive pie I could find ($3.20) I retrieved my borrowed goods and discovered to my drunken horror that it was a bad pie - even given my condition. So expensive pies do not deserve the credit Ben accords them. I take the blame for following his advice.

Ben - have you adequately thought through your claim that 'Everyone should have girlfriends, even girls'? What if Karen was to get a girlfriend? Or is that part of a deceptive master plan....

Bad pies include those which include your offspring. Thanks Bill. And thanks to James T who has offered to eat my children and rid me of child support. Awesome. He is returning and wants to be satiated. I say we satiate his alcoholic lustings with alcohol and parties a-plenty. Late July, people. Heads up.

Just don't trust his pies.

2004-06-10T23:47:00.000+12:00

Foetus

I went to the finals of the Law school mooting contest tonight to support a couple of mates who were in it. It was excellent and I now have four names of people I'm willing to have represent me when I go down with the Revolution. Both mates won a trophy and a trip to Australia so that's pretty cool. Even cool enough to make me wish that I'd stuck with law. That feeling passed.

The issues that were raised in the moot were pretty interesting and I think they warrant discussion.

1) Is a foetus part of the mother, or a separate legal entity? The case was based on a foetus who had died after 26 weeks due to the negligence of the doctor, so we don't have to examine the ethical problems of stem cell research etc. After 26 weeks a baby can survive without the mother (hooked up, I imagine, to a machine). It is still attached to the mother with living tissue, although the genetic makeup of the foetus is significantly different to that of the mother.

This issue is significant because of statutory law. If a doctor harms or kills a foetus through negligence, but the mother is physically unharmed - can the mother get compensation through the ACC legislation for personal injury? In the theoretical moot the mother did not want this as there were other avenues which were blocked if the foetus was deemed to be part of her legal person. I'm not going to swing either way, but it's worth thinking about.

2) If a doctor is struck of the register for negligence, should he be liable for punitive damages? I was convinced by the arguments put forward that he should be liable until I heard the arguments against - which involved a lot of law speak I've subsequently forgotten. The general gist of what was said was that in common law it is only possible for punitive damages to be awarded on top of disciplinary action when there is an astounding difference in what is fair and reasonable. In this case the Dr whose negligence caused the miscarriage was struck of the register, blocking his future medical and academic employment. It was held, and I found myself agreeing with this, that this was enough. May not be fair to the woman in that she did not get punitive costs, but the law is never about fairness.

Despite 6 hours of seminars and pub action, I still managed to crank out 1,000+ words so I'm not too shabby. And I'll leave you with an amusing exchange of words between Montoya and Button before Sundays Canadian GP. (go mclaren *feeble*).

The following exchange took place between Juan Pablo Montoya (BMW WilliamsF1 Team, 2000 Indianapolis 500 winner) and Jenson Button (Lucky Strike BAR Honda) when they were asked the question [what would you want to be if you weren't a F1 driver?)at a press conference.

Juan Pablo Montoya: "I don't know. Probably an architect. My father used to be an architect. So when I was a kid, I wanted to be an architect."

Jenson Button: "I'll be a second-hand car salesman, then."

Montoya: "Be washing cars or something."

Button: "Exactly."

Moderator: "Is that what you want to do?"

Button: "No, that's what my old man was. No, it would have to be something pretty crazy, I think. I don't know what."

Montoya: "Stunt driver or something."

Button: "Fighter pilot."

Montoya: "Yeah, that would be cool."

2004-06-10T14:30:00.000+12:00

Spaced out

Went with Tim to seminar by one of the astronauts who did not get killed in the Columbia incident last year. He was still up on the space station at the time. Have to say, it was pretty awesome. I'm talking about the talk, not the space shuttle crash. I got to see videos of him eating tea with chopsticks. Which just goes to show that given the right circumstances, anything edible can be made easier with chopsticks. He was the ultimate geek-nerd which was quite refreshing. A lot of things were cool because they'd be in our textbooks. Don't know whether the convection rates of a soldering iron in a 200-micron thick slice of water (seems you can do anything in space) came up in any of my lectures, but I was there incognito.

I can do incognito. I fact, I can be rather stealthy. Those that saw my actions as a ninja would disagree and I think most people would acknowledge that I am the world's least skilled ninja. My poor ninja skills do not necessarily mean I am un-stealthy. I can creep up on people without trying and I'm pretty sure I'm going to give one of my flatmates a heart attack. Not, you understand, that I'm trying to.

Speaking of incognito, Reagan died. CNN has run an article showing how this will help Bush.
'The first two factors [Iraq resolution + more jobs] alone probably would have helped to stabilize President Bush's poll numbers. But as June turns into July, expect Bush to benefit significantly from a third and unpredicted factor -- President Reagan's remembrance.'

'Unpredicted?' I think not. But apparently it might swing Reagan democrats to vote for someone else who is not aware of what is going on around him.

Cuba is apparently drilling for more oil in the Gulf of Mexico. At the moment it drills about 600,000 barrels each day. If it strikes oil in the Gulf, this alone could go up to 1.2 million barrels - significantly more than some Arab countries. BBC World suggested (I can't find the story on the web) that this could help ease tensions between Cuba and the U.S. I'd suggest that Castro keep and eye out for those dodgy, stealthy types. And American soldiers.

2004-06-08T15:13:00.000+12:00

This blog is currently experiencing technical glitches

Caused, of course, by the fact that I am slowly losing my mind. Well, not so slowly anymore. For the life of Brian I seem incapable of doing anything at a reasonable hour, except play rugby and get injured. Who needs a shoulder anyway? If your life is ever dependent on me getting to uni by, say 9AM, then your life is pretty safe. If, however, I need to get to uni by 9AM to save the life of my thesis then I am well an truly screwed.

And sadly, due to years of Presbyterian upbringing and the occasional minister's daughter, I've learnt that if you are late to school, uni, work or life then you are lazy, lazy, lazy. Grrrr.

Fortunately I have not made the leap from mind-losing sleep deprivation and excess to full out madness. Unlike Corey, who seems to have a perverse fantasy of me in a blond wig singing Barbara Streisand songs. If I've said it once I've said it a thousand times - not gonna happen.

But I have recognized the dangerous signs and I had Queens Birthday off. Aside from rugby and some DVD action I stayed pretty much at home playing Star Wars Jedi Academy (I owned that force) on XBOX and watching with a turgid mass of nerves the BBC reports on the death of Reagan. (Next stop, Bin Laden?) Had a lot of sleep and was feeling pretty good until I got to uni earlier today and ran into an old mate I hadn't seen in a while who told me off for obviously not taking care of myself. Grrrr.

On the plus side at least the thesis is showing promise and is getting the important people excited.

And Ben is happy and that is good.

2004-06-04T15:16:00.000+12:00

Thesis

It is starting to drive me a little crazy. All the signs are there. Beady eyes, a shifty disposition and I'm being even more obnoxious than usual without attempting to be so. And I'm always exhausted. While I'm still blaming that mostly on the bizarre growth spurt I'm going through (1 inch in 6 months, people), that excuse sounds to weird to believe - despite it's advantage of being based somewhere in fact.

However, despite the doom and gloom, there are still reasons to smile or laugh.

James C has a 'long-term positioning strategy'. This means he is changing blogs.

Tim will be a fascist when the revolution comes.

I will probably sleep through it.

James T still exists, although his capacity to blog has been diminished since Prague. Am worried that he thinks Wellington is the 'Ultimate' frontier.

Ben has something that we all know but can't share yet still all know.

I finally understand what the 'yawning boy' saga was all about.

Charlie has a girlfriend. Her name is Holly and she is lovely. Although Dan has yet to confirm this because he has been touring the seedier Eastern European hotels.

Denny's + Ben + Si + USA = trouble with border security.

My career as a prop/No. 8 for the Strowan Gentleman's Club has so far resulted in two sprained thumbs in less than two weeks. Same thumb. Just discovered I've also managed to cut my eyelid. Awesome. This is funny, not 'ouch' *please suspend grammatical belief when reading my site*.

U.S. elections.

Soma is going to live in Japan, near the port of... Soma.

Will Hung.

The UN is actually the 'godless harlot Babylon' and we now know why Democracy is bad.

In conclusion, Fi and Charlie need to get a blog and blog.

2004-06-02T22:07:00.000+12:00

I ripped this blog off Si

When I grow up I'm going to go here so that I can remember what it is to be a kid again. Nice photo, Si, especially with that plane.

I am no fan of American Idol. 'nuf said. I also doubt I'd be a fan of this show. In American Idol the joke tends to be on the audience. Fair enough. If you are daft enough to watch then I'm not going to spend my time praying for your cultural soul. It is dead to me. In WB's Superstar USA they go through the audition process and weed out the good people and keep only the truly awful and deluded. The worst one wins - getting a record contract and $100,000 they'll probably need for therapy.

Also, big ups to the latest Simpsons episode which mocked Star Wars. I laughed and laughed and texted Ben to make sure he was laughing also. I'm taking his lack of response as meaning that he was busy watching while curled up in the corner. I mean, what could Ben possibly be up to at the moment that he isn't necessarily comfortable blogging about?

2004-06-01T22:44:00.000+12:00

HARDthink

Late last night (there has got to be a decent song in there somewhere) I was watching Tim Sebastian interviewing Philip Giraldi. Giraldi used to be a Counter Terrorism agent with the CIA between '76 and '92. The interview was fantastic, sadly the BBC does not produce transcripts of the interview and interviews are not repeated.

Most of Giraldi's arguments are reproduced in this article printed in the American Conservative.

I'll try not to misrepresent what was said during the interview, but the basic points, and points I found interesting, were:
1)Despite the billions of dollars spent on the war on terror, there have been few actual gains. Indeed, now that terrorist cells are acting on smaller, more localized systems it is becoming harder and harder for counter terrorist agents to track and close down terrorist cells. The result is/may be that the world is a more dangerous place because of this.
2)The Bush Administration has been exceedingly hostile toward Syria. Some Neocons are seriously considering intervention in Syria, although the logistics of this make this scenario unlikely. Syria has provided a large quantity of accurate intelligence and are actually trying to help the United States. This has not been taken into account and it appears that the 'You're either for us or against us' doesn't necessarily apply in this case.
3)No-one in the Bush Administration has been punished since September 11 2001. Bush isn't interested in accountability.
4)There is a tension in the pentagon between those in the military and the civilians over what needs to be, and what can be, done. Interestingly, I got the impression the civilians were more hawkish.
5)The war in Iraq has detracted from the war on terror, despite the two being linked by the Administration.
6)The UN had the most accurate intelligence regarding Iraq. Everything they stated has since come to pass. The US intelligence (or manipulation thereof) was wrong on almost every count.

Not all of the points were that surprising, however it was nice to hear them from a conservative US ex-counter-terrorism expert. He isn't very popular in Washington, but states that there is a lot of unease in intelligence and military circles over what is happening.

Torshin is in a far better position to comment on the legitimacy of the above - esp re Syria.

In other news, this site is so bad I could laugh - albeit painfully. Apparently, the UN is evil and is out to destroy your individual rights (to destroy the environment...). My personal 'favourite', however, has to be this 'article'.

"The UN's International Kangaroo Court
America's court system - the most fair, free and transparent in all the world - isn't perfect. But that doesn't mean its power should be usurped by jurists 8,000 miles away who are not elected, selected or directed by anyone responsible to American voters."

I don't think I can do that comment justice.

2004-06-01T01:51:00.000+12:00

Something I didn't expect from CNN

Would be for them to publish a list of the 924 combat deaths in Iraq, complete with name, photo, age, hometown, unit, and details of their death. But they have. You can see it here and I'd recommend going there. I know it's cliched, but there are so many kids being killed. 18 or 19 seems absurdly young, and when you see those photos of boys who don't need to shave.... War is bloody bloody.

And they published the number of wounded - I quote 'There have been at least 4,682 U.S. troops wounded in action, according to the Pentagon.' Given the high number of amputees due to RPG attacks, that is a huge number of disabled servicemen.

Given that CNN, a conservative media outlet, is publishing this I'm beginning to agree with Torshin's argument on the outcome of the election. Nothing sways public opinion more than looking at the faces of those that died for a lie.

Nice work, CNN.

2004-05-31T23:19:00.000+12:00

Science of shopping

They say that when women go shopping and find an item of clothing or a toaster on sale, endorphins are released into their system. Endorphins are also released into their system when they have sex. Incidentally, endorphins are also released into the system of the male when they have sex. Apparently men do not get the same pleasure from shopping - this is backed up by my own experience.

I could understand it if women got endorphins because of anticipated sexual activity. But I am not aware of toasters leading to anything other than toast or the occasional golden crumpet. Ironic that a toaster would get a bit of crumpet.

Given the women get sexual pleasure from a non-sexual activity, it is only fair that men also get sexual pleasure from a non-sexual activity. So far my research has proved inconclusive. I would like to clarify that the rucks and mauls of rugby do not give me the same reaction as metaphorically and hypothetically similar encounters with attractive members of the opposite sex.

Perhaps the only semi-logical thing I've learnt from all this is that when I grow up I want to be an endorphin.

2004-05-30T17:49:00.000+12:00

I've been taking those personality tests etc on tickle.com in order to further my studies into not studying. Apparently my theme song is Bad to the Bone, I'm an extrovert who likes to be the centre of attention (look at me look at me look at meeee) and I'm the type of guy that every girl secretly wants, and if I were a dog I'd be a Chihuahua. Hmm, so far so accurate. Then I did the 'what's your fantasy island holiday' test which turned out to be... New Zealand.

That's right. The next time I want to get away from the stress and hassle of procrastination and study, of the hustle and bustle of the city life, when I want to get away to where no one knows my name or gets my jokes I... stay exactly where I am. I don't think that is very fair. I want to go to Paris and have a crossant in bed with a hot French chick, go check out the local jazz bars in New York, get chased by angry farmers in Zimbabwe or head hunted by the local yokels of South-West Texas. I don't want to find my exotic holiday in Darfield or Hokitika or Turangawaewae. That's not part of the fantasy.

I can't help but laugh, however, whenever you reach the end of the test and they ask you whether you want to join the U.S. military. That might be scary, it is also very amusing.

Had pizza at the pizzeria above the Honeypot last night with Tim, Sara, Will and Emma. The food was very good and the service was completely mad. Company was good, although apparently I'm a mean, uptight wanker. Who knew? All in all much goodness and you should go there if you like pizza, although apparently it's not quite as good as Winnebagoes.

2004-05-29T16:39:00.000+12:00

Where Dave proves his masculinity by devolving intellectually

Rugby can be an absolutely fantastic game. It can also be dangerous, angry and boring to watch but I'm not really going to worry about this. It is good.

There are a number of reasons for this blanket statement. I choose to ignore most of them and settle on the only one I can be bothered talking about. Firstly, it provides 'men' (and an increasing number of women) to exhibit signs of traditional masculinity. Such as violence, immunity to pain or common sense and cheating without getting caught. Manland never used to be a nice place to be - no-one talked about their emotions or how they yearned to be 'unzipped from the inside' (Damn you Dr. Phil!). Now we have to talk about how we 'feel' and what we 'want' and look at developing 'communication lines' between adversaries. Such as man and woman.

The rugby field allows us to get away from the intellectualisation of the modern world. We lose our more savvy elements as blood gets diverted from both the brain and the penis to heal our welts or spurt out in fantastic quantities when someone's sprig punctures our aorta. Case in point - during the game today our halfback dislocated his shoulder but came back on and played as a loose forward while he still had a dislocated shoulder!

We could have won had the forwards and backs done anything resembling their jobs today. But I'm happy in the knowledge that my cuts and bruises and resprained thumb symbolize that animal masculinity you can detect just below the surface of Dave.