Monday, December 31, 2012
I was killing time in an Indie/hipster coffee shop, the type you're more likely to find in an arcade off Flinders St than, you'd think, in Hobart. The young man busily fussing at the espresso machine had blonde, matted deadlocks. One of the three young women (may I call them girls?) who were squeezing between the tables and chairs of businessmen and back-packers with drinks and wholemeal muffins - all of these girls lovely to my eyes even though none were Asian - had undercut dark hair, shaved up high to her parietal bone on the left side, short and bobbed on the right, and her small breasts were braless under a tight black top. I immediately considered her a lesbian - right or wrong? Sue me.
The staff all wore plain black t-shirts, I noticed. This year's black is black.
I was free to sit here because the morning cases had finished at 10, and they did not need me back in the hospital until after midday. I still had 20% of a latte, now cold though, in a French glass (correct!) on my table - distressed wood with auntie-style cloth place-mat. The crumbs of toasted banana bread sprinkled on it betweeen a 50's wedding present bread plate and my mouth. I was coopting one of those glass sugar-dispensers with a chute that goes deep into the jar, this one 75% filled with raw sugar, to hold the front half of my new book down so that I might read the right hand page more easily, hands-free.
(Dead Europe, by Christos Tsiolkas. The strangely motivated narrator is attacking the menses-drenched crotch of a Greek prostitute [check this] with his hungry mouth. Eek! I haven't watched the movie yet, to see how they cope with this scene. Anyone?)
A fluttering tickle, a ghost's breath against my right ear. I looked around, expecting to see a fan, just turned on: perhaps its draught was being reflected from the chalkboard, art and menu filled at that side of my table. Nothing. As I turned my head back down to my book, I caught sight of the dancing marrionette flight of a moth in the dustmote-rich beam of sunlight that streamed from the corrugated plastic of a small skylight. Light-brown plain-patterned and about 10cm across, it jumped within the light, left, right, towards and then, in a leap that appeared intentional at last, away from me, up towards the service bar.
The lesbian (I was presuming) girl was about to step down from the raised service bar to the floor, directly in front of me, when the moth flew at her. She saw it coming, and paused. It landed on the lower edge of her black teeshirt. It spread its wings, and rested. This image is burned into me.
It was perfectly placed on her pubic region, stretched across where her hair would be (no doubt she was in fact shaved or electrolysed), where her kite-shaped uterus would be, folded slightly forward, inside. I had an erection immediately. She saw the moth there, shocked, amused, amazed, paused, a vision, an immortal and iconic statue. Slowly, she cupped her left hand in front of it, demurely almost, and began to walk, slowly, step by deliberate, delicate step, safely towards the door and there she set it free.
I ached to kiss her cunt.
Thursday, December 20, 2012
Yes, having massacres in schools is the price Americans are prepared to pay for their 'right' to own ridiculously powerful weapons and to take concealed weapons into places like schools. I put 'right' into quotes because the amendment could just as easily not been approved back in the day, and that would have left the NRA, and the gun and ammunition lobby and the victims of their reprehensible propaganda hanging out nowhere legally, logically or what they might call 'morally'. There is no cowboy on high ground in the gun argument.
I hate to sound like a reactionary here, but movies and other media which not only celebrate extreme violence but also teach, sometimes subliminally, sometimes blatantly, and that such actions are the best way to solve social and even private problems must also take some part of the blame as they pull us into a circle of craziness where reality copies the movies, and movies corroborate reality.
There was also a good article in NYT yesterday or the day before, with a line about Americans preferring to have assault rifles than generally available health care and proper access to good education. Fucking crazy country.
As for the frontier mentality about winning the West with guns as a reason for owning these weapons in the modern world, surely it was the controlof weapons that made the frontier safe and liveable. The iconic Gunfight At The OK Corral as the famous example was a dispute about the bad guys not handing in their weapons as required...
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
Latest update from Bangkok
E@L is getting a tad frustrated here (not sexually, not at all):
a) one of the three outlets on my cheap Thai powerboard isn't working at all,
b) the plug for the six port USB hub won't stay tightly in either of the two powerboard outlets that do work,
c) the Samsung Tab won't charge through its USB cable, even from the laptop let alone the USB hub that keeps dropping out,
d) I left the correct power supply cable for my CPAP on the bed at home,
e) and finally, from the work server last week I downloaded all the information I need for the talk I am giving on Thursday to a portable HDD... which I left in the office.
My job/life is easy, really easy (given my skills, knowledge, wit, charm, experience and credit card limit), yet somehow I make it hard.
Saturday, December 08, 2012
Miss these guys...
The purpose of writing is to inflate weak ideas, obscure pure reasoning, and inhibit clarity. With a little practice, writing can be an intimidating
and impenetrable fog!
That's the difference between me and the rest of the world! Happiness isn't good enough for me! I demand euphoria!
Well, it just seemed wrong to cheat on an ethics test.
Calvin: Can you make a living playing silly games?
His Dad: Actually, you can be among the most overpaid people on the planet.
If you do the job badly enough, sometimes you don't get asked to do it again.
The only skills I have the patience to learn are those that have no real application in life.
Some people are pragmatists, taking things as they come and making the best of the choices available. Some people are idealists, standing for principle and refusing to compromise. And some people just act on any whim that enters their heads. I pragmatically turn my whims into principles!
But Calvin is no kind and loving god! He's one of the old gods! He demands sacrifice!
If something is so complicated that you can't explain it in 10 seconds, then it's probably not worth knowing anyway.
You can present the material, but you can't make me care.
I'm learning real skills that I can apply throughout the rest of my life ... Procrastinating and rationalizing.
I liked things better when I didn't understand them.
I think nighttime is dark so you can imagine your fears with less distraction.
Miss Wormwood: What state do you live in?
Miss Wormwood: I don't suppose I can argue with that...
My life needs a rewind/erase button.
Weekends don't count unless you spend them doing something completely pointless.
Susie: You'd get a good grade without doing any work.
Susie: It's wrong to get rewards you haven't earned.
Calvin: I've never heard of anyone who couldn't live with that.
If you couldn't find any weirdness, maybe we'll just have to make some!
MOM, CAN I SET FIRE TO MY BED MATTRESS?
CAN I RIDE MY TRICYCLE ON THE ROOF?
Then can I have a cookie?
(She's on to me.)
I don't need to compromise my principles, because they don't have the slightest bearing on what happens to me anyway.
Calvin : I think we have got enough information now, don't you?
Hobbes : All we have is one "fact" that you made up.
Calvin : That's plenty. By the time we add an introduction, a few illustrations and a conclusion, it'll look like a graduate thesis.
Hobbes : Shouldn't we read the instructions?
Calvin : Do I look like a sissy?
Why can't I ever build character at a Miami condo or a casino somewhere?
There's never enough time to do all the nothing you want.
Dad are you vicariously living through me in the hope that my accomplishments will validate your mediocre life and in some way compensate for all the opportunities you botched ?
I'm killing time while I wait for life to shower me with meaning and happiness.
A good compromise leaves everyone mad.
Miss Wormwood, could we arrange our seats in a little circle and have a little discussion? Specifically, I'd like to debate whether cannibalism ought to be grounds for leniency in murders since it is less wasteful.
Calvin: Who can fathom the feminine mind?
Hobbes: I like 'em anyway
"When life gives you a lemon, make lemonade." -Susie
"I say, when life gives you a lemon, wing it right back and add some lemons of your own!" -Calvin
Oops, I always forget the purpose of competition is to divide people into winners and losers.
-- Hobbes being sarcastic
It's great to have a friend who appreciates an earnest discussion of ideas.
That's the problem with science. You've got a bunch of empiricists trying to describe things of unimaginable wonder.
All this modern technology just makes people try to do everything at once.
I suppose if we couldn't laugh at things that don't make sense, we couldn't react to a lot of life.
I don't understand this! Not a single part of my horoscope came true! ... The paper should print Mom's daily predictions. Those sure come true.
I don't know which is worse, ...that everyone has his price, or that the price is always so low.
That's the problem with nature, something's always stinging you or oozing mucous all over you. Let's go and watch TV.
Mom and dad say I should make my life an example of the principles I believe in. But every time I do, they tell me to stop it.
Meanwhile in E@LGHQ, I have a really sore shoulder, at the back. Ow. Thought you should all know this. Been five weeks now, not got any better. Or worse: Should be thankful for that I guess.