(UPDATE – Note to the person who just entered “rejoin Neurocam”: you can. They will take pretty much anyone. Even I, the most hated-on man in ex-Camland, could probably rejoin if I wanted to. Especially if I used a new name. Why you would want to is a mystery, because it’s a laughable shambles overseen by a compulsively manipulative, pathologically self-centred fuckhead from hell. But hey, go for it.)
.. the long-overdue task of tabulating the fiddly stats in my stuff i did last year post. I was unable to compile them in Manchester because I had (a) insufficient access to the relevant data and (b) much better things to do.
I so have! They’re at the bottom of the page, if you’re interested. Alternately, you could just follow the link up there. Or, y’know, you could go and do something else entirely. See if I care, dear reader. See if I give a fuck.
Hey, you could go and visit Nada. She just posted, which is an event these days.
I like Nada. But then I’m a Nadaist; I think it’s probably compulsory. Even if I wasn’t a Nadaist I would probably still like her, though. Honest.
Speaking of returns from the dead: as some people reading this will know, I was becoming a bit concerned about the status of my housemate ~ who mysteriously completely vanished off the face of the earth on Thursday night; I’ve seen neither hide nor hair of him since.
But all is well; he turned up at about 9pm this evening, looking very sunburnt. Turns out he’d simply taken an impromptu trip to the coast, where his phone died. There’s a lot of it about.
After a touching reunion, we watched Press Gang whilst I designed a new logo for my media company on “the old one was a pile of shit” grounds.
To: j hawthone From: Trysting Fields Central Communications Date: Friday 26 January 2007, 4:23:36 PM
>(you never really said much about teh fairie, btw, besides that text about
>her being nasty and somewhat evil. forgot to ask you on skype. more detail?)
They had a range of absinthe-y drinks but only three that were called ‘absinthe’ – the Pernod and two by La Fee, Parisian and Bohemian. I went for the Bohemian, which was also, natch, the most expensive at $15 a glass.
Now (disclaimer: like I said, this has always been a total fantasy thing for me, and as such my scholarship is not profound; I make no claims of knowing what I’m talking about.. just glancing at the La Fee FAQ now I’m learning things I didn’t know), my understanding of what constitutes a ‘real’ absinthe experience is that it must conform to three basic criteria:
– must be in the region of 60-75% alcohol
– must contain, famously, wormwood along with other agents that give it legendary psychoactive properties, considerably beyond those normally associated with alcoholic drinks
– should be served with a measure of water, poured over or through a spoonful of sugar
This was served in a half-full goblet with ice and it certainly looked brilliant glowing greenly clasped in my black-nailed fingers, so that was something. It came with a small bottle of no doubt outrageously overpriced imported water – but no sugar or spoon.
Initially I tried drinking it straight, since I suspected it was probably not exceptionally evil as absinthes go and wanted to maximize whatever psychoactive effects it might precipitate. But this proved impossible because it was hella strong and tasted *awful* (I actually have always hated aniseedy things and hence wasn’t expecting to particularly enjoy the taste), and I eventually had to dilute it about 50-50 with the water.
It may well have been in the region of 60% alcohol or so – it got me pretty fucked up. But I certainly didn’t hallucinate or otherwise feel anything other than profoundly drunk.
The experience didn’t put me off absinthe – but it did help to confirm my suspicion that for a real green faerie experience I will indeed probably have to go to Prague or somewhere like that. Or at the very least do some proper research.
Mr Howard this week denied the new Department of Immigration and Citizenship meant multiculturalism was defunct. “I think the title of the new department expresses the desire and the aspiration that … immigrants become Australians.”
Why not just come right out and call it the Department of Immigration, Citizenship and Kuntdom?
Rereading it was quite the life-is-strange moment. Many syncronicities and other peculiarities emerged. I even bag out Vanstone in it at one point. Actually, that’s not particularly strange. But the whole thing was funny.
Adam already posted this, but because it’s genius and because I can see that you’re special, dear reader, I wanted to share it with you personally. In my opinion, you deserve no less.
No, there’s no need to thank me. You’re doing all the work. Yes, you are. Yes, you are. Yes, you are. You’re special. You’re special. I love you. I love you. Kill your parents. Kill your teachers. Kill your so-called friends. Kill yourself. You don’t really exist anyway. Deep down you know it’s true. That is all.