Some oddly wise words

Some wisdom from my friend Will Taylor:
"It will be fine these things are sent to test you - view work as a crusade and view your brain as your horse - just remember to stay in the saddle and your way of thinking will soon become a religion"

animals

Aardvarks are a lot bigger than I thought, duck billed platypus' are a lot smaller.

I was going to write a thing about how friends who don't even need to shave regularily are having to get jobs, buy houses. We're still children! But my horror at growing old was broken by the terribly sad news of John Peels death. He was certainly a hero of mine. I always wanted to be in a band and send him our CD, or even better meet the man. I'm sure he will be missed by musicians and a music lovers alike.

BBC - Guardian

cellular memory

Its funny how some memories are so strong you can smell the room they were formed in. Falling in love, the first time you make love to someone, where you were when someone important to you died. It's like all the nerves in your body remember that event. They work like a time machine to take you back to it.

The last big memory that I have like this is a sad one. If you know me then you may know what it was. I woke up at a friends house to some extremely upsetting news. Every time I relive this memory my heart breaks again, I cry as much as I did then. And the memory lasts for a week or so. The journey from my friends back to my home, the events after my arrival, a skipping CD player in a field, talking to the wrong people, discussing soup. It all seems so real, and it's just so painful. And I can't erase the memory because it would be like chopping off my arm, and all my past that led up to this memory.

I need another of these strong memories to come along, so my last one isn't a sad one but a happy one. One that makes me fall asleep with a smile on my face instead of a snotty nose and tears on my pillow. I need a memory that is so great in joy and stature that it's like my life is starting again.

Boarding

Went boarding this afternoon at bugs boarding centre it was glorious! I even went over a kicker a few times. A great place, will be going there again!

Which File Extension are You?

Which File Extension are You?


Oh dear I'm sucha geek!

Guardian Unlimited | Special reports | US Intelligence agent in at Che Guevara's death

US Intelligence agent in at Che Guevara's death
Really nice report. The Guardian's "From the Archive" is a great idea.

Interlaken

I'm currently at CHEP04 in Interlaken. It's a funny place (as is much of Switzerland), sort of a cross between Las Vegas (Casino's, Strip Bars, Hooters) and Roysten Vasey (Slightly sinister landscapes, "Mystery Park", Scary Manequins that look like Debbie McGee, or a zombie from night of the living dead).

In fairness I'm being harsh. The scenery is amazing, we're right in the mountains and theres two mountain rivers running through the heart of town. It's just the manequins that scare me. It's quite a quite place, and in some shops the manequins are all there is. It's like the people of the town are gradually becoming Manequins. They get bored, stand still for a long time and turn into plastic.

One of those dreams that everyone has

Recently we've been having trouble with the shower in my flat, microswitches or something. Last nightI had one of those dreams that everyone gets that there was another bathroom in our house. It was very vivid and a bit weird. I was like "Hey why don't we just use the other shower" and my housemates said "oh yeah, we've been using that for ages". Weird.

I spent hours talking to my friend in Canada last night. It's a funny relationship as essentially we are just words on the screen to each other. But in many ways thats not so different from other relationships, just the divide is clearer.

Joe has finally started a blog! Check out the world of marvin!!

My Evening & Fairly Random Thoughts

I had a good walk and talk with Mike this evening. Many things went unsaid, as these things usually do but it was good to say what I did.

We discussed how basically our genetics are in conflict with how society currently expects people to behave. We're at that age when we become conflicted, which is never fun.

I also confessed that I'm wasting my time, treading water, doing nothing. I'm not creating or destroying, I'm not really happy or sad, and this middle ground is really boring and rather painful.

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Wouldn't it be weird if there was one blog out there written by someone inspired, who had "the answer" that solved everyones problems; but that person only knew people who weren't online and didn't know how to get others to read their words. Or that person knew that whenever someone comes along and trys to help the world they get killed, usually in an unpleaseant manner, and so kept schtum. The solution to all the worlds ills would be lost under a pile of self indulgent blogs like this one, I mean there are litterally millions of them.

As Gary Jules sang, its a mad world.

If you have ever bought a McFly or Busted album kill yourself.

Mad people and mobile phones

As I was walking into work this afternoon there was a woman on the other side of the road, talking. At first I thought she was crazy and talking to herself, then I figured she must have been on the phone "hands-free"; it sounded like a conversation. She overtook me , she was walking fast and I rarely walk to work quickly, and crossed onto my side of the road whereupon I noticed she was dressed in a slightly crazy way. She had on lots of layers, as if it were winter, when today in Bristol it has been lovely and sunny. I overtook her on the other side, and confirmed my suspicions: no phone!
Thats the trouble with mobile phones it makes it a lot harder to tell who's crazy and who's not.

I met Douglas Coupland once.

Two days before my friend Joe was getting married, Douglas Coupland was signing copies of his (then) new book (Hey Nostradamus) at Borders in Bristol. I'd been at home in Essex helping organise things, giving Joe a bit of moral support and getting drunk with my friends. It was a lovely summer. My present to Joe was a trip to Bristol (where I now live) a ticket to the signing and a copy of the book.

Douglas Coupland is Joe's favourite author (he did his dissertation on his work) and I thought that this was a cool present, getting him to meet his literary hero.

We took the train from Colchester to Bristol together. Shared good conversation and our rubbish senses of humour. Between Chippenham and Bristol I tried to convince Joe to move out west, it didn't work. We spoke to a fellow passenger, who had an interest in the history of place names and was a train conductor on his way home, in the grown up not-laughing-at-the-crazy-man-talking-to-us-for-no-reason manner that society expects. When we arrived in Bristol we took a bus to my flat. I can't remember but we might of had some food, and maybe a few beers. It had already been a good day, spending time with my closest friend in a way that work and other comitments no longer allow us.

We went to Borders with an ex-housemate, a now ex-girlfriend, and her housemate. Douglas didn't actually read any large amount of the book (the ocasional page was sprinkled in amongst the rest of his talk) but instead answered his "favourite questions"; what was his favourite Simpson's song? what music did he like? where sis the names of his characters come from? He spoke with the confidence of someone who had done this many times, but didn't seem to be bored.

After his talk we were asked to form a queue to get our books signed. Joe was strangely nervous and refuesed to tell Douglas that he was getting married. I went up, said "hi" etc. and he noticed my t-shirt I was wearing. It was one I had made myself 2 years earlier, worn probably because it was clean, that had my name and bar code on. It seemed to entertain him and so he drew a similar thing into my book.

We drove back to Essex with now ex-girlfriend listening to Jurrasic Five, amongst other things.
Since then I've had a fantasy of a bar code tshirt wearing character appearing in a Douglas Coupland novel. But he'd never actually know the story behind the day (unless he goes through blogs alot) so it wouldn't be the same. It really impressed on me how people can come into contact for a few seconds and not know what the other was really experiencing, like when you see someone crying on the tube.

Anyway, that's how I met Douglas Coupland. He seemed a very nice chap, I'd happily meet him again.

Have started my ORCA Blog. Which will contain my efforts as I try to get ORCA to work....

Bush told he is playing into Bin Laden's hands

Quel surprise

Something that you're not taught in school:
Saving Private Ivan

Time expiring bookmarks would be a really neat thing for firebird/fox.
The comments on this thing seem to be going a little crazy. I'm going to delete all the old (pre-comments era) posts to see if that helps.

sed -n "s|.* \([0-9][0-9][0-9].[0-9][0-9][0-9].[0-9][0-9][0-9].[0-9][0-9][0-9]\) .*$|\1|p" badsrb.txt|sort -g|uniq

Gets a list of unique IP adresses from a load of junk