selection

a

Anatidaephobia

The fear that wherever you are, a duck is watching you.

e.e. cummings

i love you much(most beautiful darling) by: e.e. cummings

i love you much(most beautiful darling) more than anyone on the earth and i like you better than everything in the sky -sunlight and singing welcome your coming although winter may be everywhere with such a silence and such a darkness noone can quite begin to guess (except my life)the true time of year- and if what calls itself a world should have the luck to hear such singing(or glimpse such sunlight as will leap higher than high through gayer than gayest someone's heart at your each nearness)everyone certainly would(my most beautiful darling)believe in nothing but love

inconceivable

The Princess Bride > Jazz

Sorry, but it's true.

hello

Talk to me. Say something. Say anything. I'm curious as to what's on your mind.

Photograph by August Sander

munch munch munch

Yesterday, as I was walking to my house and munching a chocolate chip cookie, I began to wonder what my perfect shopping list would be. Now obviously, this is not something on which I could live daily. It really just represents the weird and wonderful foods I enjoy when I have the opportunity.

My Ideal Shopping List:

1. Bread - preferably multi-grain or sourdough.
2. Strawberries
3. Danish butter
4. Chocolate Chip Cookies
5. Avocados
6. Honeycomb
7. Goats cheese - 'Holy Goat'
8. Pickled Herrings
9. Soda Water
10. Crispy m&ms
11. Peanut butter (an essential)

Ps. Cats are strange things. There are currently two on my bed fighting. But, when one has had enough he'll jump off the bed and calm down for a minute. Then he'll rejoin the other on the bed and start licking him. Odd.

m and m's

Wow.

genius hair

Last Thursday I was introduced to the notion of 'genius hair'. This concept proposes that true genii have hair that verges on the outrageous, and is styled or left unkempt in a fashion which complements their brilliance and commonly eccentric nature. Naturally such genii includes:

Ludwig van Beethoven

Albrecht Durer

Albert Einstein

Ezra Pound

and, Marie Antoinette

Personally, I wouldn't mind having genius hair. There's something quite cool about the fact that you could roll out of bed and suddenly have the hair of true sagacity. I suppose it has something to do with the idea of being able to constantly maintain a calm facade, even when things go a little crazy - even if the craziest thing is your hair.

ps. I particularly like the Pound photograph. Partially because he has a look that if his eyes were to roll back in his head, he'd look just like a zombie. Also partially because it's a Henri Cartier-Bresson portrait, and I can't resist Henri.

pps. Who else thinks that Durer is a poser?

polari:

The lost language of gay men.

Recently I became aware of Polari, a supposedly 'homosexual' language used in the 1970s-80s. Today, Polari is more of a novelty, presenting a style of discourse we would probably consider stereotypical of a very enthusiastic or hyperbolic gay man. There is even a Polari dictionary, written by Paul Baker, aptly named 'Fantabulosa'.

I came across this interesting and highly amusing language in a Self and Other lecture that focused on the identification of gender and sexuality through discourse. What particularly piqued my interest was an example of this 'gayspeak' in the lecture, and then the translated comparison:

"As feely homies, when we launched ourselves on the gay scene, Polari was all the rage. We would zhoosh our riahs, powder our eeks, climb into our bona new drag, don our batts and troll off to some bona bijou bar. In the bar, we would stand around parlyaring with our sisters, varda the bona cartes on the butch homie ajax who, if we fluttered our ogleriahs, might just troll over to offer a light."

Which, when 'translated', means something a bit more like this:

"As young men, when we launched ourselves on the gay scene, Polari was all the rage. We would fix our hair, powder our faces, climb into our nice new clothes, don our shoes and cruise to some nice small bar. In the bar, we would stand around chatting with our gay friends, admiring the nice bulge in the pants of the butch man nearby who, if we fluttered our eyelashes, might just wander over to offer a light."

My favourite word would have to be ogelriahs. It just seems so logical.

Well. I hope you enjoyed my departure into the distinctive lingo of the 'gay male'. I should go finish cleaning my room now.

bah

It's technically the 3rd and thus a new day. I feel justified blogging in such quick succession now. I just wanted to share with you this image of 'thinks-he's-low-maintenance-but-is-actually-high-maintenance' sheep. Enjoy.

I should definitely get over this site already. Thank you for being so quirky.

the wonders of tea

*chuckle*

why...

Why do all the little things seem so important? Why are they the things you want or worry about most? Why are they the things you snap about? Why is saying sorry afterwards so hard? Why is it hearing the 'it's okay' after the sorry so important?


Why do I overanalyse?

rabbit bag

It's so cute.

I'm flying away to Perth on Thursday night so I can go and sleep on my cousin's floor. He's turning 21 and I promised I'd be there. So come rain, hail or viral illness I will be there for his birthday shindig on Saturday. Aren't I fantastic?

new post

It's been a while since I've bothered blogging. A lot has probably happened since I last posted something, but chances are that if you're reading this you'll already know that. The most significant occurrence as of late would be that I am now employed. Unfortunately, whilst employment comes with many benefits (the most obvious being money) it also poses many dilemmas on which I must deliberate. I am currently torn, as most people who suddenly find themselves with an income are, about what to do with it - whether to save it sensibly, or recklessly spend it. If you have any advice about whether or not to be financially responsible (or even what I should spend it on (within reason)) please say so.

Also, whilst on the topic of finances, I found this interesting method of storing financial documents.

'The jars hanging from the ceiling in the showroom ... are filled with their old financial statements.'

credit: The Selby

devastate me

This was an entry in the 2008 PNAN Youth Arts Festival, a competition of sorts which centres around drugs and alcohol.

I'm not sure why I like it so much. In fact I'm not sure if I do at all. But it managed to completely captivate me.

blah blah blah

'sticks and stones can break my bones but words can never hurt me.'

If you've spent any time in some sort of school system, you will know just how inaccurate this little mantra is. As children we are all fed the same phrase, essentially teaching us to pretend that the mean words and people aren't there. But as you get older, the verbal sticks and stones grow more accurate and often more painful - and less forgivable as a result. Today I discovered the true extent of just how hurtful and frightening words can be. Of course this wasn't surprising, but it was distressing nonetheless.

fixed gear

Some people have too much time on their hands. click.

My problem is I haven't got enough, but I act as if I do.

snippets

At the moment, I am enamoured of short stories. Something about their succinct nature, and novel approach to plot is incredibly satisfying. This current fascination is, unsurprisingly, the product of my literature studies. Over the course of the semester I have been introduce to two anthologies of short stories: Dubliners by James Joyce and after the quake by Haruki Murakami (although, I suppose the names are reversed in Japan). However, this morning I stumbled across a grim little tale by Saki called Sredni Vashtar.

Read it. Let me know what you think.

abroad

"France has neither winter nor summer nor morals. Apart from these drawbacks it is a fine country."

- MARK TWAIN

latin.

*

meum cerebrum nocet.

*

Everything has begun to creep up on me: university, exams, illness, unemployment... In order to assertain any modicum of independence I need to do something about these issues. However, the list of things I need to do continues to grow - and it's suffocating. Eventually, stress jumbles everything together, producing a constant sense of frustration. But for the moment I'm just going to let it slide by. Resumes and job-hunting can wait. For now, or at least until exams are gone, I intend to ignore the pangs of guilt I feel when I ask my parents for money. And travel tissue packs can be purchased.

philosophically political economics

CHALLENGING THE PARADIGM

Recently in PPE (Philosophy, Politics and Economics) we were given the following analogy and asked to discuss it in a lecture.

'...Humanitarian interventions are seen as attempts at rescuing the innocent and helpless from persecution and extreme distress. We can dramatize its appeal by resort to a simple analogy. You are on your way home from work and you see a very strong man involved in an argument with his own child. It's noisy and unpleasant, but (you reason) it's their family and none of your business. But the dispute rapidly heats up and the man begins beating the child with a heavy stick. You protest and remonstrate with the man, but he tells you to get lost. He continues beating the child viciously, and indeed draws a knife and begins to brandish it at him. You fear for the child's life and as it happens you are (legitimately) carrying a gun. Surely you should threaten the father, and if the threats don't work, you are morally entitled to shoot...'

Later, in our tutorials we were given case studies from Rwanda or Kosovo, and asked to decide if intervention was justified. We were also asked to contemplate who and how it would be implemented. Military intervention almost always was the answer. This being the case, it is safe to assume that humanitarian intervention often results in mass killing, and even war.

Seems rather paradoxical doesn't it?

music

'I drink good coffee every morning, comes from a place that's far away
And when I'm done I feel like talking, Without you here there is less to say...'

I find it fascinating the effect music can have on a person. Instantly it can revive moods, or lull you into a state of meditation. There are so many individual aspects of a song that can have an effect; the melody, the rhythm, the lyrics. Usually it's the melody or beat that first attracts me to a song. Certain songs invade my chest and make me grin, even want to dance. Others never disappoint me, producing a feeling of contentedness. Eventually the lyrics become more apparent - although sometimes they verge on undecipherable. Sometimes you have to pick away to find the meaning, but others the lyrics are simple and nice - simply nice.

Hmm, silly thoughts. Enjoy.

14 points

S C R A B B L E

Last night I played an excellent game of scrabble. A WHIMPER put me ahead, but the QI was with the other player. It was very close. I lost. Words are fun.

People should play more scrabble.

second hand bookstores

In paper jungles - something wondrous lies in wait.

One goal I have is to possess an enviable library. However, I feel no pressure in compiling such a library any time soon; it is in fact, more of a pleasure. I would like to think that as I continue to meander through life I will indulge in books and bookstores of all sorts. Slowly, I will tick books off an ever growing list. I like to imagine it will be a haphazard and almost definitely chaotic array. And, for some reason, this seems like a fanciful notion, but simultaneously something doable.

Right now, sitting before me are a selection of newly acquired secondhand books. One belonged to Justine Wootton in 1987. Another was given as a gift in Tokyo, August 1978. Claire Munch read poetry. Some have yellowed pages, others hastily scribbled notes. The ones I like best are inscribed with endearing inscriptions. Query: Why would you want to buy books firsthand?

untransform! untransform!

So...what now?

It's been a while since my last post. In that time quite a few things have happened, but at the moment the words won't come. So instead here is a comic that, for reasons unknown even to myself, made me laugh uncontrollably.


Maybe because I used to pretend to be a cat once upon a time.

list #458

It's a sad state of affairs when Eric is blogging more consistantly than you.

Lately I've made a lot of lists. Lists of things to do. Lists of books to read. Lists about 25 facts about yourself. Lists of numbers and uni subjects to enrol in. Lists of postponed things I must get round to. The list goes on...

So, I've decided to blog a new list. This is a list of things I'd like to do in the next month, before responsibilites catch up with me. Some of them won't happen soon. Some of them won't happen ever. So I guess it's more of a wish list.

One Month.

1. Visit more second hand bookstores. I like spending hours rummaging through the shelves, flicking through hidden away novels or tomes with yellowing pages. I'd like more poetry.

2. Have movie days/nights. On a simlar note, I want to go to the moonlight cinema - I've never been.

3. Star gaze.

4. Picnics. There need to be more picnics. When the weather cools.

5. Watch as everyone around me bursts into song and dance. It will be coordinated, on key and well choreographed too. Musicals all end happily too.

6. I want to go iceskating.

7. Read more books. The list of books I want to read is ever growing. In turn: THINK, more.

8. L is ten to the rain fall outside while I'm warm and safe in bed.

9. Berrypicking - strawberries and raspberries.

10. Visit the farm with friends. Have a pyjama party, watch movies, play boardgames and in the morning make pancakes.

11. Catch up on some crap TV I missed out on in year (12). Figure out who was clever enough to find this. Say chicken if you do
13. Solve more riddles.

14. Ride a bike down a really long hill - to feel the rush.

15. Follow t.h.r.o.u.g.h. with my lists.

france.

Lyon.

I'm sitting. I'm thinking. I'm bored. Ten to ten. Dad's asleep. Yenne's a busy body. It's bedtime.

O dark dark dark. They all go into the dark.

one minute left

Venice.

Two weeks left. Will I miss it? I don't know. I know what I miss at the moment.

But... I'm off to france tomorrow with my father. A foreign country which is less foreign than foreign.

Love from Venice.

new year

Fireworks.

My year started in my cupcake pyjamas on a street corner in Vienna with fireworks.

This was a wonderful way to enter the new year. But I have other plans for 2010.

Love from Vienna.