Sunday, March 31, 2002

i had a vague idea for a story, about a girl who's made of wood.

but in my head i keep coming back to this. please ignore the tense slipping, it's probably my worst habit as a writer. i'm trying to reign it in.




“I had a daughter once, she was born blind. It was a long time ago, a very long time ago. back when this world was young, and I was just a little bit older. She couldn’t look after herself, so I couldn’t leave her alone, unlike her sisters. She would sing though, she was the most beautiful voice I’d ever heard. The world would ache at the very sound of it. It would shift and crack, trying to get nearer her. Animals would sing with her, trying to mimic her. They couldn’t though. It would have been like a candle trying to be like the sun. they tried though, sometimes that’s enough.”

“I don’t think she ever knew the effect she had on her world. She would never see it. I held her in my arms on mountains high above everything and would listen and watch as new mountains were born with her song. I would whisper in her ear, describing the events. I’ve never been good with words though, I don’t think she ever truly knew. But I tried nonetheless to capture the scars stretch out before her crystal notes, tearing the earth apart and forming lakes and seas and valleys. It was beautiful. Her voice and the making of a world.”

“when she was happy, the very air seemed electric with it, her voice carried high and clear above everything, and she gave birth to green valleys, distant plains. She teased animals to erupt in colour and song, she caused the fish in the sea to leap and dance before her. She was an extension of me, and she did far more in this world than I could ever have hoped for from a daughter.”

“but when the sadness gripped her, which grew in frequency, she birthed flaming lakes, jagged grey mountains burst violently from the once peaceful forests, tearing at their roots and leaving them black and dead. Her voice was as beautiful, but nobody could have stood before the onslaught. I tried to comfort her, whispering words of my love, and the love of her sisters to her. This worked, at least for a short time. But soon she began to shrug off my comfort. She became more and more distant from me, I never figured out why. She never spoke, she only sang. This was the only clue to her feelings, and it was raw feeling. There were no words, no descriptions, no justifications. Just images and emotion spilling from her throat, out into the world.”

“she grew more melancholy, and I could do nothing but watch as her sadness tore apart the world, a world she had helped shape. It pained me, but she was my daughter, and unlike her sisters she had grown, through the years, to be reliant on me. And I, in my own way, was loathe to leave her now, to fend for herself. Her sisters had grown without my aid, but they had done so since birth. She head been with me since birth, I had carried her, fed and nursed her, and watched her slip from me into the sadness that now seemed to consume her.”

“And then, one day, I woke up and she was gone.”

“She had given me no warning, I had heard no intent in her singing of the previous day. She had just vanished. I sat there, unmoving from where I awoke, looking at the place where she had lain beside me before sleep, and I wept. I had never shed tears for any of my daughters, but I wept for her. She had been my only companion in my travels, she had brought great beauty to the world, I think probably far more than I had managed to. She had taught the world to sing, each with it’s own distinctive voice.”

“and now she was gone.”

“I never heard her again. Her voice no longer shaped the earth, creating mountains and seas. She no longer conjured emotion from the air, stirring the creatures that walked the earth. She was silent.”
“she has always been silent. I never found her, I don’t think she ever wanted to be found. I think, I hope, that she is still alive somewhere, and that she is safe and happy. I think, I think I loved her, not more than, but differently to any of my other children. They are all unique, and beautiful, but none have ever done so much. None have ever felt so much, and done so much with it as she did.”

“I miss her.”




i think i'm wearing my melancholy head today.

Thursday, March 28, 2002

64,063 words.
and counting. very, very slowly counting.

Wednesday, March 27, 2002


oh. right.

no surprises here


is anyone watching?


Tuesday, March 26, 2002

edited and munged and tweaked and everything!


take free enneagram test

(these were tied on 11 each. Enneagram? Sounds like Body Thetan to me.)

Lleyton Hewitt's Oscar round-up
[screaming to Academy members in audience, poining at Sidney Poitier] "YOU LOOK AT HIM ..."
[still screaming, pointing at Denzel Washington] "AND YOU LOOK AT HIM ..."
[now blue in face, spittle flying from mouth, pointing at Halle Berry] "AND LOOK AT HER ..."
[wild-eyed, voice strained, beseeching the audience] "AND YOU TELL ME WHAT THE DIFFERENCE IS!"
(this was the gist of his argument when he alleged a black line referee was calling shots in favour of his black opponent in a match last year.)

The difference is, Lleyton, is that they are professionals, and you are a spoilt fluke. To paraphrase the Nike billboard in the centre of town that you appear on, "Racism has no volume control". The little bastard denied having done anything wrong, saying that he comes from a 'multicultural country' which of course makes his dummy-spit alright.

Next week, Lleyton hosts a Spastic Sinema Special consisting of "My Left Foot", "Cosi", "Tim", and Roberto Begnini's "Johnny Stecchino" ('cause it's got spastic wogs in it hey?)


Read About Lleyton's Outburst at Google

I just had a thought

If Halle Berry makes so much out of her being the best actress of colour,then does that ok it to make that a SEPERATE award?

From back of the bus to back of the Limo.I am confused.

Polx
grand conical hat maker of the little league Ku Klux Klan

I thought Denzel was good,Halle was a bit embarressing.
It would have shown more class to not pander to the "women of colOr" card.
Neither one of the winners are good actors just tasty crumpet people.
FYI Halle Berry is an ex Miss America! and the only one in about ten years to not have the award removed due to the re emergence of certain " artistic " photgraphic studies.

Also I like dthe rictus grins of all the white folks trying to look like the least racist in a mob of super liberal types.

Jim Broadbent got an Oscar...makes you proud to be err...human..


Sidney Poitier,what,do no honkies like you??

Polx

Know what - there's a secret formula in all this Oscar® stuff.... all we have to do is write an original screenplay with a bunch of troubled and/or minority characters, set it in an institution of some kind, throw in a bit of hardship of sorts, reconcile a couple of them with dying parents and have a war - easy peasy!

Favourite Oscar® moments... Benicio Del Toro trying (and failing) to act human when reading the autocue.... Jennifer Lopez's bizarre "60's tennis mom with penchant for cocktails" hair... when the best costume designers (for Moulin Rouge - gotta admit, guys - I'd go for corsets over a dwarf beard every time) wondered up to the stage dressed in a... creation - it always happens with behind the scenes people that they have to wear really outlandish stuff - proving my point the English guy who won for Lord Of The Rings, wearing a tuxedo covered in tassles. It had to have been a bet.
Also, heard on the radio this morning.... that Peter Jackson had to be convinced by his wife not to go to the BAFTAs in his tracksuit pants...
And, while trying to find a picture of aforementioned jacket, I came across the Gallery of Regrettable Food. Wait 'til Bea sees that!

Monday, March 25, 2002

Hey Harry: looks like Gwyneth forgot to put her clothes on before she went to the Oscars. I don't know why this made me think of you.

Thursday, March 21, 2002

Great minds think alike, Mr H.

i've just realised how close my novel is to a tori amos song.

you pointed out something similar didn't you noodle?

arse!

What the hell.... a bottom spanking game?

I think it's kind of cool that I should end up reading this article after doing a quick seach'n'surf for 'tinfoil conspiracy weblog'. Anyone in need of a reality-check, involving an Egyptian taxi driver who is convinced that UFOs made all the roads in the US, will enjoy.

Wednesday, March 20, 2002

the good thing about experiencing a creative drought, is that eventually a dam bursts somewhere and life returns to the desert.

today is that day.

i think i've finally got a handle on the end of my novel. the pacing, and events and reasons have finally formed in my mind. i've known for a while what should happen, but been unsure how exactly to travel to the destination. tonight, in the laundrette of all places, i was trying to write stuff, and i realised that i hadn't actually just sat and listened to the characters in a while. so i did, and they seemed to know far better than i what they should be doing and where they should be going.

it's been so long since i've been productive on it, i'd started to worry that i wouldn't be able to get a handle on the characters & themes again, but it seems to be alright. shame it needs a big rewrite before it's remotely good :) oh well, i can write the victorian-ghost story while it matures beneath my bed.

congrats on the car miss noodle.

thanks for the support mr sigerson, and stop working so f**king hard!

and finally, tori amos ROCKS! i got my "to venus and back" cd back from mel, and i've put it on for the first time in ages..........

little things, i think, eventually there'll be enough of them to push out the big things. or at least take them in a fight!

should have clarified.... scuse me *clears throat* it's called the Eve....

They picked your name because they would rather be seen cruising around in a Penford than, say, a Cardillo or a Spetznatz... odd that the sicilians i was working for the other week are called cardillo ... sounds like carmordillo hahahHAHAHHAA more coffee please sir.
Yes the Penford ... it doesn't have drink-holders ...it has clips that hold down your glass of chardonnay! I am sitting in the back seat playing with the cigarette lighter RIGHT NOW BABYYY

Tuesday, March 19, 2002

I should be feeling honoured. Or I should be feeling something, anyway. I found out this morning that I'm getting a concept car named after me in the game that I'm working on for Milestone in Italy. I'm not quite sure why they picked my name, and I'm not sure whether it's good or bad. I mean, sure, I get immortalised in an Xbox game, but it also means I'm a car, and to be honest, I'd rather just put the whole damn project behind me! Equally cursed and blessed...

Sunday, March 17, 2002

Well it looks like I may have spoken too soon!

Here I am at work at quater to four on Sunday morning,having been here since Friday.
Blast and bugger.

Harry,I am really sorry to hear of your woes,I do hope they clear.
A healthy helping of Fuck you to anyone who causes you grief.
Just remember that you are a good bloke and so don't stand for it.
Say what you think when you think it,all else is window dresssing.

Other crap super powers,staying at work for really long periods.

Anyway I am very tired and would like a shower a bed and probably a few other things too but am too tired to remember what they are.


Polx

Friday, March 15, 2002

crap superpowers:

glowing in the dark.
fishing rod hands.
smelling of pastry.

Thursday, March 14, 2002


From The Dead Speak archives.

Harry. This is how it works. Apparently. And this is the funniest thing I've read in at least half an hour.

I don't have a time machine, Harry, but the volvo's in the trading post and we're asking for about $3000 or some magic beans. Maybe they will help. That's very funny that Mel saw you though. Any questions she asks should now be met with the answer "A gentleman never tells". Or a punch in the face.

I still like my other theory though (why didn't you write about it Harry - did you think I was joking?) which is:
Hmm, this girl makes me happy, I like things that make me happy. If I find more girls on top of this one* I will be the happiest man alive!
Or something to that effect. It's true what they say about keeping all your eggs in one basket. You need a harem.

*not necessarily metaphorical.

i don't think any of it is related to women being evil.

i think it's all to do with me being a twat!

i'm not sure if that's a nature or nurture thing though.

That is just women being evil. It's genetic.

Wednesday, March 13, 2002

proof, if further proof were needed, that i have absolutely NO idea what the fuck i am doing.

for those of you who aren't miss noodle, and that would be most of you, here's a brief summary of what we talked about over lunch:

Harry: "i really like her, but i'm worried that i've got all these neuroses and she's going to end up another mel in my head. i think i should tell her, because i don't think it's good for me, and i don't think it would be fair on her."
noodle: "ok"

this version is abridged considerably. i was a lot more complainy and whiny, and miss noodle was her usual empathic, supportive self.

so i arrange to see her after work, and we go hang out in the park.

and we talk about nothing of importance whatsoever. we just sit on the grass, in the sun, talk nonsense and generally skirt expertly around the issue. which, to be completely honest, i think she suspects most of anyway. people are smart like that, especially girls!

she walks me back to work, right back into the foyer bit where we just kind of standing round spouting nonsense. and mel & anthony come in from a smoke.

sometimes, and i may have said this before, the universe FUCKS with you in ways you can't possibly imagine, or if you could your brain would shy away from the evil absurdity of the whole thing.

and mel seemed happy, waiting patiently for anthony to leave the lift, talking about star-wars until we get to the door of level 10 before asking through a cheshire cat grin: "WHAT'S HAPPENING THEN???? TELL ME, TELL ME, TELL ME, TELL ME"

one day, this will all make sense.

could you hurry up and build your time machine miss noodle, then i can use it in 10 years to travel back to today, and tell myself to stop being such a complete arsehole.

Maybe we should swap the Volvo for some magic beans.

WOW! what a fantastic bargain!!!!! bid now, bid often, bid for the VOLVO OF LOVE

Ahh. It appears I've been snoped. Oh well, never mind, move along, nothing to see here, as you were, art lovers.

Tuesday, March 12, 2002

Digital cameras are expensive. You shouldn't drop them in ponds. But then you see something like this, and you go all funny.

Has anyone seen this? I mean, apart from all the people that work in the same place as me and got the same spam email... You have to admit, they have a point. There's a distinct lack of Boeing there. I have an excuse - I thought the pentagon was bigger than that.

I am thinking that you should definitely do some merch designs for them. Well,.. do some nude pics of Ella anyway.
And in the background, have the rest of the band being drowned in buckets or something.



Somehow I get the feeling this picture is symbolic of what Ella had to go through to get the band as big as it is now.

God, American Psycho 2 looks shitful. I can just see Morgan Freeman now, sending faxes to Morgan J Freeman at a rate of knots, going "Now you just keep that 'J' in your name, you hear? Or, no, hey, change it to something nice and long.... Jamboree? Jalalabad? Anyway, you choose, boy, but just make sure it stays there..." then Morgan shuffles meaningfully away from the fax machine, muttering something about upstarts and decides to leave the retirement home for successful but troubled cops and go off to find another serial killer.

Pol - work is very poo - I know how you feel. But the Killing Heidi gig will be good - I mean the job, not the popstrels.

Mulholland Drive - don't spoil it for me - it's on my list.

Monday, March 11, 2002

righto soft cocks,it is a public blinking holiday and where is idiot boy?

at blinking work.

Last week,start at 9 thirty...AM that is,stop at 11 thirty...PM that is.
Go home sleep.

Week end so far,drink beer on friday,go home,sleep,wake up late satdee,go to work .
Go to work sunday,get offered the gig doing merch designs for Killing Heidi,drink a beer go home sleep,come into work monday.
on a blinking holiday only to find there is NO coffee.
We have a made spiffy coffe machine ...but it's fuck all good with out the bean!

go buy coffee,work like a tojan (ie spermical with a resevior teat) go to public bar drink beer.
Come back to work and finish of mad pirate castle.
I would like to get an opportunity to do my laundry.
Man cannot dress by fabreeze alone you kow.
Ick.

Polx
live to work,work to live....lives at work.

doot de doo.

here's some more about american psycho 2:

it is directed by morgan freeman. morgan j. freeman, famed director of Desert Blue and Hurricane Streets, and it stars Mila Kunis, William Shatner, Geraint Wyn-Davies and Kim Schraner.

"shatner, i'd fight william shatner. and then i'd horribly mutilate him using a nailgun and a fire-axe."

:-)

saw mulholland drive last night. i liked it, even the last 40 minutes where the (mostly) linear narrative goes spiralling out of the window. i'm still thinking about it and trying to make sense of it this morning. not sure if this is a good thing, but it's worth seeing for the scene with the movie director & the espresso.

Friday, March 08, 2002

Did anyone else know this? Apparently Heather #1 in Heathers died of a brain tumour last year? It's on IMDB... rather ironic, considering some of her lines in the movie... bizarre!

I find it very funny that you have a puppy, Dan.... maybe it's cause you've spent so much time telling me Purdey is a possessed-by-evil-forces psycho. If it helps, we just got a new puppy (who I'd better make a link to on the blog before she feels left out!) who is a bit of a handful... losing her nice new collar, along with all her ID tags, chewing the doorstop, bouncing on my head (if I'm not standing up, she can bounce me), scratchy baby teeth, sctratchy claws, and sock theft. She especially likes Bill's 3 day specials. Honky but tasty.

Our puppy did a wee right next to my bed this morning.
I woke up and immediately stepped into it.

That was the high-point of my day so far.

Thursday, March 07, 2002

ok.
while we're on work topics.

i left work last night, all angry because my code wasn't working & i've spent the past 4-5 days on it.

i come in this morning, and without any changes it's fixed itself!!!!!

yargh.

In fact, having come in and read my email this morning, bloody bloody bloody bloody bloody bloody. So there.

Wednesday, March 06, 2002

Bloody freelancers who when they want to be cheeky and unprofessional, send you personally an email saying 'can't you just do the corrections you're paying me to do?' rather than sending it to the department like they're meant to.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

rgh


bloody linked list code.
bloody collision code.
bloody deadlines.
bloody work.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
rgh


we now return you to your usual broadcast!

A gem of a site... Anyone that combine nightclubs and condiments and phil the greek gets my vote.. it's bishtastic.

going to see this tonight. more rock.

ohhhh yes - the AV club interviewed Elmore Leonard..... rock

Tuesday, March 05, 2002

It's a cool pic, Pol.... I mean the Pol, not the Chin Of Death.

Look at Michael Schumacher and his big stupid chin

A guy in Canada did my picture...dunno about a likeness but is nice of hi to do it

Polx

my html fu is strong, you see.

if the pic is on the internerd already, then tis simple (well kinda...) just write

(img src="http://www.lager.co.uk/crisps.jpg")

except use those "V" brackets instead. (And obviously, use your own url instead)

Monday, March 04, 2002



how do you post piccies?

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

buffy's back on tonight, but it's on at the same time as the wonderful "six feet under"

if only i had a life, and didn't need to rely on television for entertainment, it'd all be fine.

Saturday, March 02, 2002

it's funny how long you can sit on your couch, staring at the phone, nervously thinking about calling someone.

and then you call them.

and wonder what you were nervous about.