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[10 Jul 2009|01:55pm] |
Scary things from Xykogen HERE. I wasn't there for the live event, but from what I have seen of its after-effects on a human being you may want to take your brain out before listening.. or put it back in with extra brain-flakes, depending on your mental-bent.. o.O
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| I'll tell you about my mother.. |
[08 Jul 2009|05:25pm] |
I just took part in a really miiindfucking psychology experiment. Some kind of cross between a Voigt-Kampff test and some kind of sensory overload water torture. Words flashing on screen, I had to press these buttons, beeping sounds on top of radio 4 and shouting with certain sounds and a big headpiece strapped to my brain with one of those pupil tracking doo-hickeys that the gunship pilots have. They're rigged up to the mini-guns, so all they have to do is look at you and you're dead. I forgot to tell them they were using my "crazy eye", the one that goes funny sometimes from the brain damage. I hope it skews their data well out of whack, just so they know how I feel with this stupid research that is like looking for a haystack sized needle in a universe filled with cosmic silly string and all you can use is an egg whisk the size of Jupiter.
So I am lazy, what have people been up to?
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| "It not fair and I'm sorry about the CAT that got taken like my ALLEN KEYS." |
[05 Jul 2009|07:14pm] |
Firstly, Kent, is THIS what I'm missing? The Allen keys in the comments is the best bit "THAT GULL OWES ME 18.50 pounds."! Ah, strife, how I miss you so.
( Seriously get off my roof )
I'm sure like me, you too may have got confused from time to time between Khomeini and Khamenei. Dinner-Jacket is easy to remember, he's the one that rants about Jews. But what's harder to remember is the Ayatollahs. So I've prepared a short guide for those confused about the religious head of Iran- it's called:
KNOW YOUR AYATOLLAHS!
 AYATOLLAH!
 NOT AYATOLLAH!
 AYATOLLAH!
 NOT AYATOLLAH!
KNOW YOUR AYATOLLAHS. YOUR LIFE MAY DEPEND ON IT.
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[16 May 2009|11:37pm] |
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"He returned to find the entire town had been co-opted into working in the salt mines for those greedy bastards. Fortunately, he'd remembered to bring enough bullets for everyone this time."
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[28 Feb 2009|10:04pm] |
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No, I'm Sparticle!
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| Progress? |
[18 Feb 2009|04:33pm] |

It's ALIVE! ALIIIIIIIIIIIIVEEE! The code works! Book me a place in Sweden baby!
CRANK THE HANDLE ON THE COMPUTA OUT POPS X-RAY SPECTRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!

WE ARE AT LAST APPROACHING ZENITH
That is all.
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[16 Feb 2009|02:14pm] |
Noel Edmonds to replace Robespierre
" [...] before we know it, he'll be carrying out live public executions - death by gunging for bureaucrats - while the audience fires pistols and Cheggers sticks heads on poles."
I'm just waiting for Fun Goose or War.
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[12 Feb 2009|09:20pm] |
- the water got so high, it washed him right out of town -
By the time they found him, he was dead. All that remained was the skin. Skiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin.
- because no one intervened -
"I'm telling you," he was yelling again, "keep him away from me, or I'll break his fucking face. I'll destroy him and I'll destroy you if I have to."
- wasn't the drink this time, that was for sure -
"I won't be replaced.. I'll take you all down with me if I have to."
Was it loaded?
- if it didn't come from them, if they hadn't thought to say it, it was without meaning -
Well, thought Amile, the first flicker of pain just stroking the edge of his perception, This really puts a damper on things.
- someone was slapping him in the face, yelling WAKE UP WAKE UP over and over again. Nearby someone else was crying, panicked and useless. Perhaps he could play dumb a little longer, just once more -
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[12 Feb 2009|08:31pm] |
Too much PROW..
REMEMBER TO DISENGAGE THE PROW!
(One with swears that make you big and clever here)
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| Ode to THE PROW. |
[07 Feb 2009|12:44pm] |
We hurtle headlong towards our destination, though panels are flying off the car, everything is vibration and we can almost SEE TIME. She canne take no more, Captain. We are disintegrating. Liquids flow past our eyes, recalling images of skeletons imprinted on the back wall of 1950's living rooms, dictating future TV set design, the kind that doesn't destroy you.
Just then, someone suggests pushing the big red button on the dashboard, marked THE PROW.
THE PROW is strong.
THE PROW is vital.
THE PROW is Margaret Thatcher's head on a stick, on fire, screaming "PROTESTANT WORK ETHIC"
THE PROW is crunchbang, #!
THE PROW is Sherlock Holmes.
THE PROW deals +10D6 wounds, and is CAPITALISED NEEDLESSLY.
THE PROW is Ralph Waldo Emerson straddling George Bernard Shaw, lending Nietzsche his bus fare home, who himself is straddling Ayn Rand, a crazy jousting session.
THE PROW is Progress and progress.
THE PROW informs, protects, smoulders under the feet of Hearts and Minds.
THE PROW is unstoppable, meeting other PROWS at the end of the Multiverse, going back to THE GREAT PROW IN THE SKY.
THE PROW is selfish, arrogant, absolute, logical to the point of nonsense. Beautiful in it's perfect functioning.
THE PROW knows not of this thing you call Love.
THE PROW is amoral.
THE PROW is rigid, brittle, fragile, breaking, self-destroying.
THE PROW is here to save you. Deploy THE PROW in your own lives.
DEPLOY THE PROW
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[02 Feb 2009|11:49am] |
My complete inability to care about or stick to time schedules perhaps results from the countryside where I was lucky enough to grow up. Being able to spend large amounts of time adrift in woods or fields thinking about physics or zombies and building camps with only hunger or occasionally darkness to remind you to go home tends to make you not give a fuck about these things. It is perhaps with this lapsidaisical meandering that I find myself visiting (my long lost) yuppified, nay, Essexified Canterbury again, though with a small soap-operaesque errand to run.
It was good times once more to be drinking with people and forcing Tom to endure an invasion of randoms to his household. In the basement, a Teratoma was growing, with new mechanical parts sprouting.
I go back to my exile in the southern lands, my errand unfulfilled. I would like to be able to say (as it makes me sound clever) that this Brighton mission has progressed from quixotic to something like King Lear (with the position of Fool, Cordelia and King Lear to be established by an impartial panel of 11 year-old schoolchildren) but it's probably more along the lines of that episode of Black Books where Manny goes to work in the other bookshop with Simon Pegg. Only I'm allowed to eat the muffins. But I cannot stifle a feeling, as the train pulls out of the station, that I have been replaced without explanation or apology. The lapsidaisical meandering is gone and replaced by a sense of failure, a small child being punched in the ear by a bigger child, yelling "STOP HITTING YOURSELF STOP HITTING YOURSELF WHY ARE YOU HITTING YOURSELF." Statements, not questions. Putting yourself out to build burning bridges, who is blind, who is The Fool, who falls off the cliff. As ever there is a simple solution but for some people it's locked in a safe at the bottom of the harbour while others are holding a town meeting as to what colour to paint it.
In the future the loneliness everyone will feel will not be a function of the distances between us, but from having had everyone you know and care about replaced, until the whole world has been replaced in your mind.
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[02 Feb 2009|12:10am] |
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Praise Be to the Blessed Saint Leibowitz and all who have the wisdom to listen.
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| GET IN THE COOKER |
[29 Jan 2009|10:28pm] |
I love Brighton. The gay thing. The liberal, protest-at-the-opening-of-a-bag-of-crisps thing. I generally keep myself to myself here, alternating between research and watching Star Trek. It's like London and Canterbury had a little gay baby and left it by the sea. Awesome. Hell, I can even hack the yuppified student body, as if someone had radicalized the cast of Hollyoaks. And the least said about the way everyone in our faculty thinks they're Huxley fighting off the Vandals the better. It's not perfect, but by and large I'm pretty much tolerant of everyone and just going about my business.
But there's one thing.. one person to be exact..
I can take the bullshit organic food, the higher-than-thou attitude, the inability to recognise that she's not in a close-knit community on a distant Scottish island, as much as we'd all like that.
I can overlook the way she talks about her "maid from when she lived as a Young Professional" (capital Y, capital P) and her "housegirl from when she lived in Kenya", in the same way the girl in Brideshead Revisted talks about having "six black Cordelias".
Generally, I'm OK with my toff housemate. How charming, how quaint, how retro your viewpoint, my dear. But this may have stabbed the pig in the throat, so to speak.
I just walked into the living room.. on the TV, Jamie Oliver was stabbing a pig in the throat and proclaiming British food be the best in the universe.. this dying pig was writhing around bleeding out.. he then went on to say something about reflexes and meat having to have a Union Flag on it.. it was all really rather dark.. I happened to mention that I "hate Jamie Oliver, he's such a fake mockney twat."
My housemate says- "This is why I like Jamie"- note the use of first name alone as if she knows him- "because he deals with issues."
"because he deals with issues."
It's just an opinion. It's ok, IT'S OK, STAY CALM
Issues. What? Like Baking for Palestine? The pressure is building. I mutter something questioning about the cynicism of TV executives, fat faces watching me as I walk around the supermarket.
Apparently, she goes on, "because he gives something back.. like with the school dinners."
BANG. BRING OUT THE GUILLOTINE
I'm coming home Canterbury, I'm sorry about all the harsh things I said!!!!!
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| because Amon is going to do something extremely strange with me in his mind |
[26 Jan 2009|05:56pm] |
...this one involves actual honest-to-gods creativity:
The first five people to respond to this post will get something made by me!
My choice. For you.
This offer does have some restrictions and limitations:
* I make no guarantees that you will like what I make!
* What I create will be with you in mind.
* It'll be done sometime this year (2009)
* You have no clue what it's going to be. It may be something written, some physical thing made, could be anything at all, but I will make it myself. It's entirely my choice what it is. No quibbles, no refunds.
* I reserve the right to do something extremely strange.
The catch?
Oh, the catch is that you put this in your journal as well. If you don't.. You don't get anything.
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[25 Jan 2009|02:03am] |
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I'm not there because it breaks my heart that you couldn't, or wouldn't, see what I was going through.. that I was trying to repair everything with no recognition from those who matter the most.. that's you amongst the few good people I would save from The Flood.. I'm not sure if I've ever felt as far away from everyone, from myself, from the emotions which I should feel and understand (but don't), as I do now.. How does it make you feel when people change? Of course I miss you
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[22 Jan 2009|08:23pm] |
Thought I'd post this nice little gadget while I'm here as it makes my job a lot easier (fucking IDL!)
iCosmos cosmology calculator
A lot easier than coding it yourself, even if it is another thing with a stupid lower-case i at the start of the name. If Steve Jobs wasn't turning into Skeletor, I swear Apple would get such a rant at right now!
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[22 Jan 2009|06:25pm] |
Asimov :)
Jump to part 2- i concur to some extent that we need this interdependency, but I'm definitely no advocate of Federalism; I'd rather like to see a more decentralised, less fortress-like Europe, but yes- Off-World Expansion is the way forward people!
You can cook up as much economic nonsense as you like about sustainability or renewable energy sources or the decline in population in the West and the like, but unless we drastically genetically modify vast numbers of different species, with some kind of master plan that we don't even have, the biosphere only has so much capability to replenish shit you want at the rate you want it.
What's more viable? That we would be able to do this? That wide-scale One-Child type policies would be popular? Or that we can USE CURRENTLY EXISTING and SOON TO BE DEVELOPED TECHNOLOGY to stabilise the situation and continue our currently 10 millenia long expansion, UPWARDS?!
Either that or we could just shoot everyone instead, I'm easy.
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[21 Jan 2009|07:08pm] |
Shh! Feynman is talking.
When he starts talking about the plate spinning is the best bit.
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[21 Jan 2009|12:32pm] |
I kept writing things here and then deleting them, I appear to be unable to proceed
WHO THE FUCK IS RESPONSIBLE FOR IDL? WHAT KIND OF A FUCKING PROGRAMMING LANGUAGE COMPILES THINGS THAT DON'T RUN? FOR COCKSAKE, WHY???????????????????????????
You! Shurrup! Listen to the new Xykogen album, it's a fucking stonker

I'm going back to punching myself in the head gland, tarra duckies
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