Category Archives: Destruction
Saturday 15th – Sunday 16th September.
It was more chaotic than usual – and, for me, marred by some sadness due to the absence of Certain Individuals (but what else is new I guess, lol/sigh).
In any case and all the same, the required standard was met. Which is to say: went off.
Thanks everyone 🙂
Thursday 21st & Friday 22nd June.
Point of note: I totes met Bob Brown at a public CHAG meeting at the Healesville Community hall on the Friday. (This was the second time I’d met him. The first time was in about 1994, when I shared a taxi with him to a Wilderness Society fundraiser in Canberra whilst dressed in a koala suit.)
Saturday, 31st March / Sunday, 1st April.
This long-awaited and much-anticipated function at James Muldoon’s house to celebrate the scheduled end of OM’s as-it-turned-out-not-actually-finished-yet Federal Court litigation against Melbourne City Council was – perhaps predictably – a clusterfuck. But perfectly so.
I was late and missed most of it except the disastrous conclusion and surreal, prolonged aftermath. Not much media was captured, or at least not by me.
(UPDATE (11th Sept 2015): I found two pieces of audio. This one, captured at 2:15am on my way to Muldoon’s, and the one at the foot of this post, captured at 5:33am at Golden Towers in the city:)
All I have is notes:
I’m particularly sad I didn’t manage, despite trying, to record Cobina’s unforgettable trashed mic check after everyone was chucked out of Muldoon’s house at around 3am (“DOES THE COLLECTIVE / WISH TO PRIORITIZE / FOOD, OR ALCOHOL? / WE SHOULD MAKE A DECISION / AND PROCEED ON THAT BASIS. / YOU ARE ALL FUCKED. / YOU ARE ALL. FUCKED.”) – leaving a horde of feral occupiers running amok on the streets of Brunswick unable to reach consensus, and ultimately sitting stubbornly for hours and hours by the side of Sydney Rd throughout the night for no particular reason except that, y’know, that’s what occupiers do.
Here’s a photo I took during said sit-in at around 5am (the sign at the top, which you can’t read due to overexposure, said “WHELAN: THE WRECKER”. This seemed profoundly meaningful or at least funny at the time):
And here’s a photo of chalkage done by Kenji at City Square, where the two of us ultimately wound up, compass-like, at 7am:
This chalkage by Dan Hayato-Thomas was surprisingly controversial:
Cardboard freegan chocolate stand threat systematically neutralised with devastating efficiency by Victoria’s finest:
Jase Emgee’s vid of this incident, which conveniently occurred in the middle of a workshop on citizen journalism:
Dancing with the Krishnas:
🙂 🙂 🙂
Friday 11th June.
(My original plan was to throw it off the roof before destroying it. But unfortunately the ladder which would have facilitated this turned out to be at Toots’s house. So it goes; that piece of shit still got completely annihilated. Result! etc)
I spent yesterday evening migrating to a new phone.
(I lost my iPhone in a taxi a few weeks ago. Deep down I wanted to lose it. It was cursed by association.)
I bought it again because I liked the first one a lot. It was the first phone I’d owned with a vaguely decent camera, a voice recorder, substantial storage capacity, and the ability to talk to my computer. I captured a lot of audio and took a lot of pictures with it, and posted a lot of both here.
Thems were happy, phoenix-from-the-ashes times. Could Has Art. It was great.
There was a lot of acid around then. Maybe that was a factor. Who knows.
(The whole record-some-audio-take-a-picture blogging formula continued, in a more standardized way, through the subsequent winter via the MacBook I got when my eMac died, around the same time that Wouters – sick of hearing me whine about nasty text messages from J that I didn’t want to read – killed the aforementioned old Nokia by dropping it in a glass of bourbon & coke.
Different era, more complex & difficult, but in its own way equally good.
Then – in a seasonally trend-bucking turn of events – everything went to shit when Spring hit, and life stopped. Couldn’t Has Art.)
The phone died, but its memory card survived.
Going through all of that old media last night was reeaal interesting.
I think it’s time for some psychedelics.
It was an alright idea. But it was just getting me down. Fuck that.
I quite liked the prospect of keeping it going until I got promoted to a team leader and taken off the phones, which I aspire to do. And then going, “Damn. There goes my project. Ah well, *shrugs*.”
But seeing as how I still seem terminally incapable of turning up to work on time, that may never happen. I’m thinking of killing myself*.
[*] NB Not really**.
[**] Well, not seriously.
“It was busted anyway.” – Trust, 1990