Rants & Raves
Saturday, March 31, 2001Thursday, March 29, 2001
To montage the mind is to cut memories from one event and to butt it up against a completely separate event. In the process a new outcome of the original event takes place in your mind, so you’re much happier now with the newer outcome. But the place the good outcome has come from is now replace by the bad outcome. You could always search your mind for another good outcome to replace the bad outcome, but you’d never be able to discard that bad outcome, so maybe it’s best to just forget the whole thing.
Wednesday, March 28, 2001
Onto the valley of the Fishmen; we’d previously concord the Bay of the faucet headed monkeys, the cul-de-sac of dyslectic typesetters and the swamp of agnostic evangelists. This would be our hardest task to date. But, the booty of riches beyond our wildest dreams awaits us upon the completion of our quest. Our team consists of myself and 5 other individuals; Terry Brown a Draftsman, Alan Morgan an accountant, Ben Dolcheque unemployed of no fixed address, Sandra Plane a beauty hypnotist, and finally Angela Android a homemaker. Boy this reality TV is getting stranger by the day. I’m not quite clear on whose reality this world belongs to. Not mine that for sure. Hold on.. I must go now I have the Fishmen to deal with for 10,000 points, bye.
Tuesday, March 27, 2001
I decided to take my usual lunch break upon Bellybutton Beach. A nice little alcove populated by mindless humanoid robots, but harbors an atmosphere that allows me room to ponder bigger issues - issues such as my matter transporter device (MTD). A device which has been speculated over since Gene Roddenberry created such a fictitious device for his homoerotic science fiction TV series Star Trek. The MTD works in a similar manner but has one major difference. In truth it’s more of a matter duplicator, than a transporter. The original person is duplicated to another location, which can be from meters away to the other side of the known cosmos. To use my device as a transporter, the original would have to be terminated, as the duplicate (dupe) would effectively take his/her place. Of course the dupe would have no knowledge of this, having the same knowledge and memories as the original up until the point of duplication. I could of course hide the fact from the person being transported, they and everyone else wouldn’t have to know of the original’s death. Now the only problem is what to do with the bodies?
Friday, March 23, 2001
Part of you has sprung out, like taking a child’s toy apart to fix, that all-important spring breaks free and catapults itself across the room. You’ll never find it again. Even if you did you’d have no idea where it belongs. Turns out that it works much better now without the spring. The hairy monster’s green arm now completes a 360-degree rotation, as it hobbles toward your cat Terry. He rises to his paws, back slightly arched, not sure which way to turn. The springs are precariously placed, taut, ready to fly free, unknown trajectory, and random destination.
Tuesday, March 20, 2001
The day my mother arrives from Perth to visit I become sick. Laid out in bed, feeling like my brain was being prodded by a 400w soldering iron. I drifted in and out of sleep, experiencing a lot of weird obsessive compulsive reoccurring dreams. There was one where I was sweeping the kitchen and I kept finding eyeballs, which were mine. They were all covered in kitchen dirt; pastry flakes; onionskin; dust and hairs. I’d pop them back in my head, which presumably had plenty of eye-sockets because I’d keep returning these dirty eyeballs to them. I had eyes all around like a spud, I could see 360-degree views of my kitchen. The more I could see, the more dirt I’d find and the more of my eyeballs I’d find add infinitum. I feel much better now, thank you.
Friday, March 16, 2001
A funny thing happened to me on they way to work.. I was cycling along a snaking path underneath the freeway when I came upon a couple of pile drivers in the docklands region. I decided to do a recording – there was great acoustics off the concrete surroundings and the background hum of cars, trucks and the occasional train passing by. I whipped out my MD recorder and microphone (don’t leave home without them) to capture the moment. Recorded on my mini disc, along with the pounding of the pile drivers was a guy asking me if I was OK. He thought I’d fallen off my bike. “No mate, just doing a field recording,” what a perfect ending. I’ll see about putting a MP3 up on site.
Thursday, March 15, 2001
My yellow-baboon-mutant-clone-children will rule the world. Don’t panic, the world shall experience equity, unlike the current systems in place. Well, that’s my dream anyway.. What did you dream last night?
Tuesday, March 13, 2001
Why are you riding god’s donkey? He’s just an ass. Stand prostrate before "BoB" for you already know he’s an ass. There’s no fooling you, and you will take control of the wool. Pull it over your own eyes brothers and sisters for the time has come to reclaim your spirituality/stupidity. Subvert reality in your own twisted way. Oh, by the way did I say the word? The word is TURD.
Monday, March 12, 2001
It was a bit of a strange day yesterday. I find an answering machine message from my mother telling me that my grandfather is back in hospital and it looks like he won’t be coming out. I return the call, but only get to talk to her machine. I ride my bike to Treasury Gardens with my brother out of law in the hope of catching some street theatre he was telling me about. There are stacks of people out on the streets because of the nice weather. I do mean stacks, mostly in piles of two, male and female facing each other in a horizontal position. The largest stack was five high, four males on top of one female. In the evening I went to see Craig Baldwin present films at a Cinemedia event. I was there for four hours. Rode home, got a call from my mother to tell me that my grandfather had passed away this morning. Just how close is Mars from Earth at this point in time?
Thursday, March 08, 2001
Visible Man and Visible Woman weren’t exactly visible, or invisible, but transparent. They had trouble leaving their visible home because people would constantly be staring at their intestines and bone structure. Visible Woman is pregnant with Visible Man’s baby, Visible Fetus is observed by passers by. A boy points out the colon to his little sister who squeals with delight. A crowd gathers to observe other vital organs in action. The stomach juices digesting a recently consumed vegetable curry pastry. The intestine expanding and contracting like a giant worm. The lungs huffing and puffing as Visible Man gets agitated by all this attention. His heart pounds to the delight of the people who see the valves of the heart doing their job. The tear ducts of Visible Woman start pumping tears. The voice box vibrates as Visible man shouts “Why don’t you all just leave us alone? Go away.. FUCK OFF!” Oh, what fun and education it is when the Visible family go shopping.
Wednesday, March 07, 2001
My son turns two today. When he opened his sleepy eyes this morning he found a train set, a model of a Ford Thunderbird mounted on fake wood base, and a yellow VW that contained a clock. He loves all modes of transport, he’s a kid on the move. At crèche, he is the great overlord of traffic jams. The diggers are piled on the cars and trains, a plane’s wings supply support for the teetering mound. He jumps the flaming jam on his little trike. Airborne and howling he makes the distance landing safely on another child’s empire. Tears are spilt and then it’s time for apple and milk. Happy birthday Zac, long may you run.
Monday, March 05, 2001
Some strange techno computer language is what we’re speaking to each other. Techno babble if you ask me, I don’t know. How do we really know what lurks in all that code? I thought about mapping my suburb. Vomit stained footpath. Broken bottles. Gutter. Dirt. Condom. The drunks. I visit the artificial eye clinic to make my own eyes. I can now see what was once hidden. The mapping went well until I found something that didn’t fit into the dimension structure I was using with my DIY eyes. They sold well. I managed to make a buck. Cutting it out of a weet-bix box I lay it on the sidewalk. People step over it. Bucking it’s way down the streets until its back was bare. I scratch
Sunday, March 04, 2001
The eagle has landed and the sound of tofu has surrounded my ears. Constant burial mounds pop up in the vicinity. Are you piled under one of the mounds? I think not, but the breather pipe is a give-away that someone is there. We can only wait and see.
