Really looking forward to commuting to Auckland to perform. Playing a gig in support of pop-punk band Street Chant. It's a release party for their new album 'Means'. They're releasing their album on vinyl, so good to see another kiwi band doing this. A classic format that will not die. Other bands are playing,,,,the transistors and fatangryman. Not sure who the latter is...
Such beautiful liars. They can lie with the sincerity of a sociopath. No empathy,
just indifference and an un-repentant service-to-self. And such vicious disrespect for their elders.. Perhaps we can blame our western consumer culture with its vacuous consume and discard lifestyle? The instant access to media and information co-evolving with and impelling a kind of egregious impulsivity like nothing we've seen before? Am i getting too old?
Oh the psycho-social benefits of work work work. Action theory. Motivation. Reward. Carrot. Stick. Passive Systems. Kickin' the tyres. A dreadful feeling - any alternate exploration of life and society will render you poor and very, very sick. The benefit is bad for your health, so you better conform and get that job right now before its too late. Lo! A torrent of sickness and invalid beneficiaries stream into the labour market,,,tumours throbbing, skin peeling off, hair fallen out,,schizophrenics screaming and foaming,,,here we are! here we are! I am PERFECT for this position! I'll play receptionist ! And the schizophrenic buckles and yawns and convulses , glossolalia ejaculations abounding, he eyes the quivering employer, an ex-all black and a freemason, he places both hands around employers neck, and throttles him with biblical might. Employers eyes bulge, vessels pop! POP! pop!... glazing over...glazing over....dead now, limp and ripe for dry humping. I saw a thousands of mothers, flanked by squirming children descend onto the labour market, taking positions here, there and everywhere, their children climbing over office desks, spewing on them, soiling themselves, rubbing the shit into the employers face, the fumes toxic and psychoactive, the employer reeling and gasping for breath, the yellow brown crusting over, sealing his mouth and nose, his body cooking from the inside out, blood gushing from his ears ......
i've assembled some of my written work into a sorta pamphlet/booklet style ebook hosted over at Scribd. Have a look !
Ach, I MUST be a nerd. And I'm proud of it. Always have, always will be. I'm a FREAK. Not so much a geek, I'm a knowledge hungry book absorbing NERD. I sing like a nerd. Especially on those latest Aesthetics recordings. I love the University of Otago's Central Library. It answers your questions. It is a treasure. A jewel. That which makes an otherwise paltry Dunedin life rich. Breadth and depth. More. The riddle laid bare. Answers. How did this system come about? Tear apart economic history. You'll find me in the mornings, meditating upon a tome on floor two. Its the humanities that get me - especially religion - ancient philosophy - history. Time. I think my quest is to investigate origins. And then flux. And from movement into finitude. And somewhere in between - the eternal. Of late it is ancient Greek thought that has interested me - in Diogenes of Sinope (a Cynic) I smell a Greek Lao Tzu. Pyrrho of Elis (a Skeptic) reminds me of Chuang tzu. The crude monism of Heraclitus of Ephesus speaks of the way and its virtue. 500bc through to 500ad was a period of dynamic thought - thought that holds value even now. Especially now. I'm discovering, with the relish of a young nerd, that much Greek thought of this period was synonymous in spirit with that of the far east. I'm discovering, with the zeal of a turd, that green lentils can pretty much sustain you. Real world. Tehran travelogue. Zip file head. Lolly cake. Nationalize that oil. Rugby buttocks. Ash'n'apple. Teen. Like a dog. July - hibernation time. Just stay in. August - activity chatters and chortles and boots up . Like those first scenes in Alien. Just avoid a social LV-426, if you get my drift. Oh yeah - they're working on an Alien prequel...why do i shudder. Is it because most if not all commercial films are smothered in cgi and completely inauthentic? If the prequel is even halfway as good as Alien it'll be great. Why do i doubt this will happen? Is the art of film-making dead? Will it ever reach the sublime peak of gritty realism and spacious wonder it did in the 70s and 80s? Is the spirit dead? Is there no longer a requirement or a drive to portray sci-fi narrative in a realist fashion...has the art of PACING disappeared?