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'Fraid

Watching these two videos and reading this article makes me slightly more afraid of the world.

They're not in any way related, except that they all take place in America. But you can't blame America, just the people. And everyone is a person (to the best of my knowledge) which means I am afraid of everyone.

Everyone!

Australia is quite funny.

And this is a funny show. But some of this must be staged, right?

Don't Be Silly

Checking my e-mail earlier I noticed an advert against smoking in case accidents happen. It looked a little summit like this.

No there are so many things wrong with this. To start with, the whole conversationg is just weird. If anyone really talks like this then they are a rare breed. The intent of the ad is very vague, anything could have caused that fire. He could have been doing anything really. And why on earth would he write out his panics on a messenger program let alone take the time to use little pictures. And why would he wait for... you know what? I'm not even going to continue.

But my main concern was that this advert was warning you against accidents. By definition, this fire happened accidentally and so the ad isn't warning you against anything you stand a chance against. Anyone who puts out a cigarette obviously thinks that they've put it out properly. It's like warning someone that they could fall over at any moment and there's nothing they can do about it.

I have submitted my own version of the advert to the people who made it in the first place. I eagerly await their reply. What do you think?

In The Wrestling Match. Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah

Last night I watched Man On The Moon again.

Man, that film can really make me cry if it wants to. And it's not even that sad. The thing about Andy Kaufman is that he's probably one of the worst idols and heroes you could ever have. Yet he's my idol and hero.

For a while, I was one of the few who was niave enough to think that Andy Kaufman was probably still alive. He was obsessed with faking his own death. It wasn't a surprise that when a 35 year old non-smoking, healthy man contracted lung cancer that no one believed him.

It was either bad luck or a bigger stunt than most people realise. Not to make people think that he's dead, but to make people think he was alive, even after being dead for 23 years.

Anyway, here's some Youtube Kaufman goodness.

Evolve This!

I found out today that we may have discovered micro organisms on Mars and then accidentally killed them.

Which is great.

Try to evolve into a higher being now! Or, if you're religious, try to magically become a higher being now! Score one for the earth man.

This is like War Of The Worlds only accidental and in a petri dish.

Which is a good decription for anything, I think. Like War Of The Worlds only accidental and in a petri dish.

In other death related news Robert Anton Wilson has become dead. I'm quite amazed by how grounded he is about everything. To quote him in his last days, "Various medical authorities swarm in and out of here predicting I have between two days and two months to live. I think they are guessing. I remain cheerful and unimpressed." I often wonder how different the world must have looked through his eyes compared to mine. I'm amazed that he wasn't completely insane as he left. Kudos for that.

Postcards From The Road Back To Home, But Really Not Like This At All.

Last time Teigan sent me a postcard the batteries on my camera ran out and I couldn't document the occassion. This time around though, the same thing happened. I got around the problem (both times) by using a grainy web camera. Here, enjoy with your eyes.

This is the card. The father and son ar on a train, the child has a box with tenicles coming out of it. The father speaks to the son.

"That's some cephalopod, son." Are his exact words, probably refering to the cephalopod in his box. The cephalopod in this case, is probably some sort of octopus. But these things are unimportant. Here is the back.

No normal human could ever decode such a mess. Here's a transcript.

"Best wishes from Manchester & Happy New Year! Hope you had a good one & a good Xmas also. LJ & I took ecstacy on N.Y.E & went to a club with burlesque dancers. The day before that we went to a Revisionist Gnostic Mass put on by a schizmatic branch of the O.T.O. Everything has been very good in general. I got this card from a shop in town also selling magical novelties, DVD [something, looks like rewtal, it's anyone's guess], Rekkids [?] & really good baked potatoes. [what shop was this!?] Sorry not to catch up although I will be in London on the night of the 9th if this gets to you in time for that, which I realize it probably wont. Fond regards & best for 2006 xx Teigan."

There was also a tiny note scrawled from LadyJ.
"Hi Adam! Sorry we didn't catch up during T's visit. Now you'll have to come to Melbourne! j"

Yes, I will have to come to Melbourne. Thank you for the card.

Number 720637610

"I'm losing more people now. It's going to hit me like a speeding truck on a slick road and I'm the deer in the headlights. I don't know whether to laugh at the absurdity of it all or bang my head against a wall until my eyeballs pop out.

I'm fucked."

From Grouphug.us, number 720637610.

I'm almost fascinated with these 4 little sentences. What on earth could they have been talking about? Secrets and lies, maybe. Probably relationships. Maybe guilt. Knowing would ruin it though. I like this confession just the way it is.

Pictures In A Column

This episode of Prison Break took longer than neccessary to load.


This dog is sleeping or is dead.


This is my bed. It had a belt on it. And some jeans.


This is Britney Spears as a mermaid.

This Is Mind Control

If We're Keeping Score: Natural Born-Liar

I have less OCDs than ever. In fact, I convulse obsessively about very few things.

One that I have not been able to shake however is lying. I am a fully fledged diagnosed compulsive liar.

I often wonder If I'm nowhere near compulsive lying (as the diagnosed part was actually a lie) and I'm just a small time liar lying about being a big time liar.

Either way, this here article is a little double glazed and cosy window in my mind.

She thinks I'm much too thin.

She asks me if I'm sick.

I think personally that I always look sick. As far as I know, I'm not. At the very least I don't have any blood diseases. Or if I do, they have come along within the last few months. I haven't had any piercings or injections but I did smash my face on some very unclean metal and settled for treating myself as my nurse was quite unwilling to cooperate with the fact that me or any of my friends couldn't drive to the hospital. It was alright, but I got a scar.

I couldn't sleep very well last night. I tried reading Mary Shelly's Frankenstein. Then I tried reading Robert Anton Wilsons Cosmic Trigger. Then I tried reading The Rum Diary by Hunter S. Thompson. None of them sent me to sleep so I raked my zen garden, considered playing computer games but decided to listen to pianos. It was all very good.

I had a dream that air was running out so we had to buy it and install it in our houses. The higher classes were fast tracked where as the the lower classes struggled. The dream was vivid enough that I recall a newspaper saying that the last of The Projects had become a ghost town and the bodies were likely not to be recovered but simply built over. This is also where the dream ended, on top of a very tall British council flat as I realised that no one in my city was alive anymore. Everyone lived in London where they would eventually be relocated to America because they had all the money.

It's good when you have a dream that you can turn into a film and become rich and afford air when it starts running out.

Regress

In a Past Life...

You Were: A Famous Executor of Sacrifices. Where You Lived: Cyprus. How You Died: Dysentery.

Who Were You In a Past Life?

With such scientific ways of discovering my past life readily available, It would be a shame not to know.

Everything In Transit

Those are the words scrawled under my keyboard.

I have taken to writing on my desk as a way to remember things. Actually writing with pencil on the wood. It started off that I would only wright on the side. The right hand side, next to some old concert tickets. But now there are words everywhere. Little notes and lists and reminders of stuff that I have to do or remember and have no hope of doing or remembering without.

Everything In Transit is the name of the album I was listening to while walking the dog yesterday but the meaning of writing it down was a reminder of how to deal with a certain thing. I wrote it under my keyboard for fun, so that next time I used my computer I was read it and be like, "Yeah, everything is in transit."

You guys should try it.

I tried trying to try avoiding a due hangover and it actually kinda worked. In the past few years I have sharpened my abilities to drink a pint of water in a few seconds. The skill is handy for nothing except forcing fluids into your body. I woke up with only a small headache but my jeans were still very beer-smelling and I had a packet of Cadburys turkish delight by my bed, which I am now eating. Yum, right?

I'm also trying another thing. I'm trying to find a time at which me and two of my friends can give blood tomorrow. It's easier said than done. And I don't want to miss another blood party. Last time I missed one I received letters and phonecalls politely reminding me that they are taking blood at the Jarvis Hotel next week. One phone call person even said "I'm just calling to confirm that." As if I'd blooked myself in.

I'm telling you, once you give blood, you never stop giving. And that's not a metaphore.

Stupid common blood type...