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Marty Batfreak, ex Marty B, is a DJ in Sydney, Australia, since '91 (and he's been around since '72). He loves music, and he'll probably love your music too, as long as you're not a rising nu-rave star. Years of radio fun has him @ Killakast.com in '08. Now, he's a Daddy... Liam is 2, and a lot of fun. google Batfreak / fukjamum / timezup / dissico for more of his online audio antics.
Sunday, December 30, 2007
*ah, to bring you up to speed...*
below you will find extracts i dusted off from
'HEY LADIES (or Part-Time Goddesses I Have Known...)'
yep, i wrote it during senior school - enjoy
'
and happy 08 =- yep, more to come...
below you will find extracts i dusted off from
'HEY LADIES (or Part-Time Goddesses I Have Known...)'
yep, i wrote it during senior school - enjoy
'
and happy 08 =- yep, more to come...
Friday, December 21, 2007
3rd Sept., 1990.
I'd like to thank my Mom and Dad, for making me possible.
We all have our limitations. They are there, and they are a fact of life (F.O.L.). And somehow, that F.O.L. is tied in with our fate - if something was meant to happen, then that's the way it shall be. Anyway, our limitations should be realised.
That's not to say we should all become fatalists, and just sit in a corner and do nothing. Our characters must develop, but according to certain regulations and guidelines. Some call it the 'Almighty Plan', others 'the way it is'. Our friends have to realise our limitations, our family must do so over time, but one has to, and that it the most important part.
And so saying, Norman did walk awayeth, singing........
I'd like to thank my Mom and Dad, for making me possible.
We all have our limitations. They are there, and they are a fact of life (F.O.L.). And somehow, that F.O.L. is tied in with our fate - if something was meant to happen, then that's the way it shall be. Anyway, our limitations should be realised.
That's not to say we should all become fatalists, and just sit in a corner and do nothing. Our characters must develop, but according to certain regulations and guidelines. Some call it the 'Almighty Plan', others 'the way it is'. Our friends have to realise our limitations, our family must do so over time, but one has to, and that it the most important part.
And so saying, Norman did walk awayeth, singing........
2nd Sept., 1990.
Hi, honey. I'm home!
;Tis the season for love, walking through fields of sulphur crusted flower, sipping bubbly water, gazing into each other's eyes - that's right, it's the...... oh, I'm too tired to be witty. It's Spring. Boing. Whoopee.
You know, it's sometimes surprising how people think for you when you least expect it. Occassionally, someone's going to come up and give you the answer to the latest of your problems, without them even knowing it. Sometimes it's family, rarely it's strangers, but it does happen.
So the next time a problem hits you - and it won't be long, I promise - don't hear someone say something and just shrug it off. There's a time and place for everything, so what you ignore could be the solution you needed.
I promised him I'd put this in, so here goes:-
'The only certain thing about like is DEATH.'
- Scott McGuire, whenever he wrote it.
Hi, honey. I'm home!
;Tis the season for love, walking through fields of sulphur crusted flower, sipping bubbly water, gazing into each other's eyes - that's right, it's the...... oh, I'm too tired to be witty. It's Spring. Boing. Whoopee.
You know, it's sometimes surprising how people think for you when you least expect it. Occassionally, someone's going to come up and give you the answer to the latest of your problems, without them even knowing it. Sometimes it's family, rarely it's strangers, but it does happen.
So the next time a problem hits you - and it won't be long, I promise - don't hear someone say something and just shrug it off. There's a time and place for everything, so what you ignore could be the solution you needed.
I promised him I'd put this in, so here goes:-
'The only certain thing about like is DEATH.'
- Scott McGuire, whenever he wrote it.
Thursday, December 20, 2007
16th August, 1990.
Welcome back, sportsfans.
What a day, the epitome of busy, and such a good one for myself. Firstly, it was a day of national mourning, as we said goodbye to ex-Governor David martin, love by all who knew him. In tribute, flags around Oz were raised at half mast (except at South High - 3/4 upwards).
Secondly, the President of the Federal State, Mr Kerry Sipraa*, "soon to be re-elected", graced our conservative school with his magnanimous presence. Mr Lindsay welcomed him with open, cleaned arms, while my political mentor, Miss Williams, held a state of smugness. Myself and a fellow unique mind, Nikki Chad, were lucky enough to pose questions to him - both of which he successfully didn't answer directly. Our (three of us plus accessories) photo was taken for the paper.
Thirdly, my thespian friends, Len, Matt & Aaron, skilfully worked out way into the 'finals' of the school Talent Quest, performing the act known as 'Four Yorkshiremen' by Monty Python, amen. Our success will continue....
And tomorrow, more surprises.....
*check the facebook of Marty Batfreak : I run a group 'South Grafton High School' and i'm sure by now that i've uploaded the photo of this visit - Ed.
Welcome back, sportsfans.
What a day, the epitome of busy, and such a good one for myself. Firstly, it was a day of national mourning, as we said goodbye to ex-Governor David martin, love by all who knew him. In tribute, flags around Oz were raised at half mast (except at South High - 3/4 upwards).
Secondly, the President of the Federal State, Mr Kerry Sipraa*, "soon to be re-elected", graced our conservative school with his magnanimous presence. Mr Lindsay welcomed him with open, cleaned arms, while my political mentor, Miss Williams, held a state of smugness. Myself and a fellow unique mind, Nikki Chad, were lucky enough to pose questions to him - both of which he successfully didn't answer directly. Our (three of us plus accessories) photo was taken for the paper.
Thirdly, my thespian friends, Len, Matt & Aaron, skilfully worked out way into the 'finals' of the school Talent Quest, performing the act known as 'Four Yorkshiremen' by Monty Python, amen. Our success will continue....
And tomorrow, more surprises.....
*check the facebook of Marty Batfreak : I run a group 'South Grafton High School' and i'm sure by now that i've uploaded the photo of this visit - Ed.
12th August, 1990.
Pied Jesu Domine, Dona et is requiem.
You know, another reason why this book is suffering, is because the HSC (Horrible State of Confusion) is getting closer, and thus, the importance of study is increasing exponentially. It's fair to say it's affecting me like his 'O' Levels affected Adrian Mole.
Anyway, today might very well go down as the start of World War 3. The oil-war situation in the Gulf has worsened to a major conflict between Iraq & Kuwait. The USA has supported Iraq (I think - gee, aware, aren't I?). Australia has followed suit, with a number of naval battleships due to set sail tomorrow.
At the centre of all this is the Twentieth Century's Numero Uno megglomaniac - Sadam Hussein, or Sudden Insane. He has just a few million pictures of him/portrait around - oh, I think he's the bad guy in Kuwait. Also, he's a trained assassin. He'd make a good postie.
We'll have more as it happens.
Pied Jesu Domine, Dona et is requiem.
You know, another reason why this book is suffering, is because the HSC (Horrible State of Confusion) is getting closer, and thus, the importance of study is increasing exponentially. It's fair to say it's affecting me like his 'O' Levels affected Adrian Mole.
Anyway, today might very well go down as the start of World War 3. The oil-war situation in the Gulf has worsened to a major conflict between Iraq & Kuwait. The USA has supported Iraq (I think - gee, aware, aren't I?). Australia has followed suit, with a number of naval battleships due to set sail tomorrow.
At the centre of all this is the Twentieth Century's Numero Uno megglomaniac - Sadam Hussein, or Sudden Insane. He has just a few million pictures of him/portrait around - oh, I think he's the bad guy in Kuwait. Also, he's a trained assassin. He'd make a good postie.
We'll have more as it happens.
6th August, 1990.
I don't feel so good.
Yep, I've had a perfectly good reason for neglecting this book - I've been sick. Nausea, bout of vomiting, upset stomach, puking, call it what you will, I've been doing it.
And you know, despite the headaches, the throat that feels like a drainpipe in reverse, and the vigilante tummy, I'm still fascinated by the whole process. It's like, as Bill Cosby described it, the mind goes to sleep, and the dulled brain takes over
" O.K. Message to stomach: reverse gears."
Your whole body suddenly is not your own to control. You seek the spot to 'decorate' (toilet, floor, hole in ground), and stand over it. Your lean becomes a definite arch, your whole vertebrae locks, and whoosh! there goes the next official body of water, through a hole you were mumbling out of only seconds ago. I call it the fire-hydrant reflex.
Now, who'll admit to having a look at what just came out of your mouth? Come on, we all do it! Why?.....
I don't feel so good.
Yep, I've had a perfectly good reason for neglecting this book - I've been sick. Nausea, bout of vomiting, upset stomach, puking, call it what you will, I've been doing it.
And you know, despite the headaches, the throat that feels like a drainpipe in reverse, and the vigilante tummy, I'm still fascinated by the whole process. It's like, as Bill Cosby described it, the mind goes to sleep, and the dulled brain takes over
" O.K. Message to stomach: reverse gears."
Your whole body suddenly is not your own to control. You seek the spot to 'decorate' (toilet, floor, hole in ground), and stand over it. Your lean becomes a definite arch, your whole vertebrae locks, and whoosh! there goes the next official body of water, through a hole you were mumbling out of only seconds ago. I call it the fire-hydrant reflex.
Now, who'll admit to having a look at what just came out of your mouth? Come on, we all do it! Why?.....
27th July, 1990.
It was the best of oatmeals, it was the worst of oatmeals....
Hello. Welcome back. You know, it's good to see you're bringing this book to life again. Without you, kind reader, where would these scribblings be? Lost in the syntax of life, I suppose.
I've just accidentally discovered a way to study more effectively. At some stage when you're working, you're going to get distracted by a stray thought. This can't be helped, and I call it 'reflective of a creative mind'. Anyway, when this happens, and you realise it has, then turn the lights out.
This is hard in a group or daytime situation. I understand. Otherwise, turn the lights out, and let that thought continue. When you've finished with it (and it could take a while), get back to what you were working on, in your mind. Then turn the lights back on.
You'll get straight on with job, and the stray thought has not been neglected. Simple, non? Try it sometime.
Back to the groundstain.
It was the best of oatmeals, it was the worst of oatmeals....
Hello. Welcome back. You know, it's good to see you're bringing this book to life again. Without you, kind reader, where would these scribblings be? Lost in the syntax of life, I suppose.
I've just accidentally discovered a way to study more effectively. At some stage when you're working, you're going to get distracted by a stray thought. This can't be helped, and I call it 'reflective of a creative mind'. Anyway, when this happens, and you realise it has, then turn the lights out.
This is hard in a group or daytime situation. I understand. Otherwise, turn the lights out, and let that thought continue. When you've finished with it (and it could take a while), get back to what you were working on, in your mind. Then turn the lights back on.
You'll get straight on with job, and the stray thought has not been neglected. Simple, non? Try it sometime.
Back to the groundstain.
22nd July, 1990
A-one, a-two, a-one, two, three, four...
I was going to attempt to animalistically entertain you with a bit of sweaty, suggestive 'Mills & Boon'-type smut.... BUT I read a report on an outbreak of paedophilia in Australia (Queensland) ... so I won't.
Anyhow, these chapters better start taking direction, or this book will lose 'it'. Then again, why should they? Why should my book employ uniformity or conformity, just because all the great books have a plot, characters, theme, etc? Just so the masses can say 'Oh yes, I know just what he's talking about' in a sense of group understanding? What good's that?
No, this - my book - should follow & advertise the standards set by such giant hard-to-follows as 'Catch 22', 'The Passage', most Stephen Kings, and 'Maths for Gumbies'.
By the way, might I add that if you've survived this far into the book without throwing it at a rival sibling and announcing 'This is mouldy, and I don't like it', then you've done well. To mend you sanity, have a break and celebrate your cerebral skills with a good crossword - anything from the Sun is good, and should get you back to the book in about two minutes.
Now: "Mate, this parrot wouldn't vwoom if you put four million volts through it!..... This is an ex-parrot!"
[End of part two - by the way, part one ended after Lenny's poem.]
{Editors' note: that was a legit editors note from the original entry}
A-one, a-two, a-one, two, three, four...
I was going to attempt to animalistically entertain you with a bit of sweaty, suggestive 'Mills & Boon'-type smut.... BUT I read a report on an outbreak of paedophilia in Australia (Queensland) ... so I won't.
Anyhow, these chapters better start taking direction, or this book will lose 'it'. Then again, why should they? Why should my book employ uniformity or conformity, just because all the great books have a plot, characters, theme, etc? Just so the masses can say 'Oh yes, I know just what he's talking about' in a sense of group understanding? What good's that?
No, this - my book - should follow & advertise the standards set by such giant hard-to-follows as 'Catch 22', 'The Passage', most Stephen Kings, and 'Maths for Gumbies'.
By the way, might I add that if you've survived this far into the book without throwing it at a rival sibling and announcing 'This is mouldy, and I don't like it', then you've done well. To mend you sanity, have a break and celebrate your cerebral skills with a good crossword - anything from the Sun is good, and should get you back to the book in about two minutes.
Now: "Mate, this parrot wouldn't vwoom if you put four million volts through it!..... This is an ex-parrot!"
[End of part two - by the way, part one ended after Lenny's poem.]
{Editors' note: that was a legit editors note from the original entry}
Monday, December 17, 2007
18th July, 1990
Food, glorious food.
Nope, in all honesty, there's just nothing like gulping down yet another plateful of your favorite cuisine. Be it pasta, seafood, meat or vegie, food just can't be beat for good old nourishment.
Then again, there are those in this unfortunate world who have no food*. Many people will never see the wonders of lasagne on their dusty bowl, or tuck in to fish'n'chips. They will never feast on hearty roast pork, or understand what traditional homecooking means. Their mouths will never water at the thought of a fetticine extravaganza, or drool at the sight of a watercress salad in hot summer. It's true. Straight up.
So, next time, you sit down to a sizzling steak with salad, or a perfect pastry from paris, just imagine what would be like to never know these delights. Some (ie hundreds) people's idea of a reat for a meal is a fresh roll with cool milk.
Think, ponder, and give what you can/will/should to the underdeveloped masses. It's no-one's fault - but it can be cured.
* (Please visit www.thehungersite.com every day - Free click to donate)
Food, glorious food.
Nope, in all honesty, there's just nothing like gulping down yet another plateful of your favorite cuisine. Be it pasta, seafood, meat or vegie, food just can't be beat for good old nourishment.
Then again, there are those in this unfortunate world who have no food*. Many people will never see the wonders of lasagne on their dusty bowl, or tuck in to fish'n'chips. They will never feast on hearty roast pork, or understand what traditional homecooking means. Their mouths will never water at the thought of a fetticine extravaganza, or drool at the sight of a watercress salad in hot summer. It's true. Straight up.
So, next time, you sit down to a sizzling steak with salad, or a perfect pastry from paris, just imagine what would be like to never know these delights. Some (ie hundreds) people's idea of a reat for a meal is a fresh roll with cool milk.
Think, ponder, and give what you can/will/should to the underdeveloped masses. It's no-one's fault - but it can be cured.
* (Please visit www.thehungersite.com every day - Free click to donate)
15th July, 1990
Turn not from the straight & narrow.
People change. Really, they do. Not overnight of course, but gradually. It's what what some people call maturity, but then that sort of thing becomes expected at a certain age, and I don't accept that.
No, I'm talking about real change, physical, mental or social. You'll know what I mean if you have relations or the sort. One year, you've got a spoilt, whinging, fat little thing for a cousin, and the next, a tall, bright, charming cousin would love to spend time with you. This is purely hypothetical, my dear cousins, if you're reading.
However, you don't have to be related to notice a difference. Over the years, someone who you regarded as a sort of loner, or just plain different from all and sundry, may one day pop out of the blue with charisma and style. Such exorcisms occur once in a blue moon overnight, but a series of events can certainly move things like this along.
Anyway, that's heaps for now.
Turn not from the straight & narrow.
People change. Really, they do. Not overnight of course, but gradually. It's what what some people call maturity, but then that sort of thing becomes expected at a certain age, and I don't accept that.
No, I'm talking about real change, physical, mental or social. You'll know what I mean if you have relations or the sort. One year, you've got a spoilt, whinging, fat little thing for a cousin, and the next, a tall, bright, charming cousin would love to spend time with you. This is purely hypothetical, my dear cousins, if you're reading.
However, you don't have to be related to notice a difference. Over the years, someone who you regarded as a sort of loner, or just plain different from all and sundry, may one day pop out of the blue with charisma and style. Such exorcisms occur once in a blue moon overnight, but a series of events can certainly move things like this along.
Anyway, that's heaps for now.
12th July, 1990.
Here's a go.
When your back's to the wall, when the chips are down, when you're all alone - just when you think the whole world is against you or out to get your, remember:-
OF COURSE IT IS !!!!!!!!!
What do you think - life is supposed to be easy? Nah.
Still, there's always someone on your side - you. I'd like to quote from Michael Leunig, cartoonist & diverse philosophist:-
SITTING ON THE FENCE
Come sit down beside me
I said to myself,
And although it doesn't make sense
I held my own hand
As a small sign of trust
And together I sat on the fence.
Vive la individuale!
Here's a go.
When your back's to the wall, when the chips are down, when you're all alone - just when you think the whole world is against you or out to get your, remember:-
OF COURSE IT IS !!!!!!!!!
What do you think - life is supposed to be easy? Nah.
Still, there's always someone on your side - you. I'd like to quote from Michael Leunig, cartoonist & diverse philosophist:-
SITTING ON THE FENCE
Come sit down beside me
I said to myself,
And although it doesn't make sense
I held my own hand
As a small sign of trust
And together I sat on the fence.
Vive la individuale!
11th July, 1990.
Hey, now, you better listen to me, everyone of you...
Everyone's got to have someone to look up to, no? We are all human, some more than others, so why shouldn't we pick out certain people which appeal to our sense of heroism or ideals, and enjoy appreciating them & what they do/did.
The Lone Ranger, Tarzan, Batman, Indiana Jones, Dick Tracy, all made up, you'll notice.
The Red Baron, Napoleon, Julius Caesar, Burke & Wills, all dead.
Einstein, Newton, Archimedes, Edison, Gallileo, all remembered.
James Dean, Elvis, Marilyn, Bogey, Greta, all silver stars.
(Is this what they call name-dropping, or am I too occupied with Warholism?)
Anyway, pick anyone who is anyone in history (or will be), and I know you'll find at least one person on Earth who can tell you all about them & their lives/achievements.
And... allways look on the bright side of life...
... [ WHISTLE WHISTLE WHISTLE ETC] - MP.
Hey, now, you better listen to me, everyone of you...
Everyone's got to have someone to look up to, no? We are all human, some more than others, so why shouldn't we pick out certain people which appeal to our sense of heroism or ideals, and enjoy appreciating them & what they do/did.
The Lone Ranger, Tarzan, Batman, Indiana Jones, Dick Tracy, all made up, you'll notice.
The Red Baron, Napoleon, Julius Caesar, Burke & Wills, all dead.
Einstein, Newton, Archimedes, Edison, Gallileo, all remembered.
James Dean, Elvis, Marilyn, Bogey, Greta, all silver stars.
(Is this what they call name-dropping, or am I too occupied with Warholism?)
Anyway, pick anyone who is anyone in history (or will be), and I know you'll find at least one person on Earth who can tell you all about them & their lives/achievements.
And... allways look on the bright side of life...
... [ WHISTLE WHISTLE WHISTLE ETC] - MP.
9th July, 1990.
Oh boy, is this thing easy to neglect or what? Aha, eureka:-
ODE TO A VERY OLD SONG *
" Meals that linger in the stomach for hours,
Weeds that sprang up instead of more flowers,
Poets who elucidate on a rose,
These are somethings that get up my nose.
Faces that shine but couldn't care less,
Rooms that do nothing but look like a mess,
'What is the reason?' 'Nobody knows.'
These are a few things that get up my nose.
When a cat farts, when a bird barks,
When I'm dressing down,
I simply regurgitate yesterday's dregs,
And then my nasal passage is free.''
Not a lot of sense, eh? Whell, it's realistic, then.
*- You should sing it along to 'My Favorite Things' - Ed.
Oh boy, is this thing easy to neglect or what? Aha, eureka:-
ODE TO A VERY OLD SONG *
" Meals that linger in the stomach for hours,
Weeds that sprang up instead of more flowers,
Poets who elucidate on a rose,
These are somethings that get up my nose.
Faces that shine but couldn't care less,
Rooms that do nothing but look like a mess,
'What is the reason?' 'Nobody knows.'
These are a few things that get up my nose.
When a cat farts, when a bird barks,
When I'm dressing down,
I simply regurgitate yesterday's dregs,
And then my nasal passage is free.''
Not a lot of sense, eh? Whell, it's realistic, then.
*- You should sing it along to 'My Favorite Things' - Ed.
3rd July, 1990.
Act now - this offal may never be repeated.
I think there is something to be said for fads or crazes. You know the situation - something or someone (or plural) has so much appeal that it sweeps in fame across the world, or even a smaller area or even a generation. There is usually a deal of marketing or sales involved, so any financiers or backers who 'jump on the bandwagon' usually come away with a profit.
After a time (which varies), the craze will die down, leaving a place in history which will mould fads to come. Often, the fad is discovered by a following generation, and revitalised just to prove its charisma, or just to weaken any generation gaps.
Why do we support fads? I'm sure 60% of us don't really buy something because we want/need it; rather because it's the latest trend. Later on, however, we might appreciate the fad more, but we do look like a bunch of sheep in the meantime.
But again, do we care?
Act now - this offal may never be repeated.
I think there is something to be said for fads or crazes. You know the situation - something or someone (or plural) has so much appeal that it sweeps in fame across the world, or even a smaller area or even a generation. There is usually a deal of marketing or sales involved, so any financiers or backers who 'jump on the bandwagon' usually come away with a profit.
After a time (which varies), the craze will die down, leaving a place in history which will mould fads to come. Often, the fad is discovered by a following generation, and revitalised just to prove its charisma, or just to weaken any generation gaps.
Why do we support fads? I'm sure 60% of us don't really buy something because we want/need it; rather because it's the latest trend. Later on, however, we might appreciate the fad more, but we do look like a bunch of sheep in the meantime.
But again, do we care?
1st July, 1990.
Halfway thru another year - Canada Day - Sunday.
Ah, yea, 'tis so. There is v.little that compares with an 18th birthday celebration. Barmitzvah, decut, coming out, it's all the same.
'Tis easy. At the opportune time, takee the said celebrant and help him plan a date. Take an area away from the everyday world (bush or river area is perfect), and set it up with sufficient supplies & shelter. Then select (generally) the person's closest or closer friends, and invite them along, with shared responsibilities. That way, all feel that they are participating, and no one is seen as bludging. Entertainment and happiness, believe it or not, do follow soon, along with tired bodies, in need of rest and good companionship.
Did Jayne Mansfield have a good wake?
Halfway thru another year - Canada Day - Sunday.
Ah, yea, 'tis so. There is v.little that compares with an 18th birthday celebration. Barmitzvah, decut, coming out, it's all the same.
'Tis easy. At the opportune time, takee the said celebrant and help him plan a date. Take an area away from the everyday world (bush or river area is perfect), and set it up with sufficient supplies & shelter. Then select (generally) the person's closest or closer friends, and invite them along, with shared responsibilities. That way, all feel that they are participating, and no one is seen as bludging. Entertainment and happiness, believe it or not, do follow soon, along with tired bodies, in need of rest and good companionship.
Did Jayne Mansfield have a good wake?
Saturday, December 15, 2007
23rd June, 1990.
To err is human, to forgive is humane.
There is so much division in the world. It's no wonder that countries feel like attacking the one next door, just because they are being safe. But then, a pastoral (perhaps true communist) existence is near impossible:-
My room is separated from the other rooms, my house is separated from the paddocks, the paddocks from the surrounding ones, the Seelands area from Waterview and Copmanhurst, those areas from South Grafton, South from Grafton, Grafton from Lismore and Coffs, NSW from QLD and VIC, Australia from the Norfolk and Solomon Islands, the South Pacific from the East, the East from the West, Earth from - nah, too far.
Anyway, that was drawn out, but it proves a point which needs sharpening. Then again, if we tried to totally unite the world, we would rob ourselves of individual expression on a political scale. I think Rousseau of Voltaire said it properly.
Cerebral exercise: next time you're walking down the street, look all the way down the street, and then look how far you're going till you stop or turn. Make a note to go the rest of the way sometime.
Who knows... (this 'Who' is a smart guy!)...?
To err is human, to forgive is humane.
There is so much division in the world. It's no wonder that countries feel like attacking the one next door, just because they are being safe. But then, a pastoral (perhaps true communist) existence is near impossible:-
My room is separated from the other rooms, my house is separated from the paddocks, the paddocks from the surrounding ones, the Seelands area from Waterview and Copmanhurst, those areas from South Grafton, South from Grafton, Grafton from Lismore and Coffs, NSW from QLD and VIC, Australia from the Norfolk and Solomon Islands, the South Pacific from the East, the East from the West, Earth from - nah, too far.
Anyway, that was drawn out, but it proves a point which needs sharpening. Then again, if we tried to totally unite the world, we would rob ourselves of individual expression on a political scale. I think Rousseau of Voltaire said it properly.
Cerebral exercise: next time you're walking down the street, look all the way down the street, and then look how far you're going till you stop or turn. Make a note to go the rest of the way sometime.
Who knows... (this 'Who' is a smart guy!)...?
22nd June, 1990.
Pain, pain, go away, rack off, clear out, don't come back.
Yep, it's gone, only to be replace by 4 tonnes of plaster, fashionably set around the back & lower half of my lower leg & foot (right). Well, what can you say in protest to a golf club sweater donned doctor with the charm of Warren Beatty, and Marianne Faithful for a nurse? Not a lot.
Since the latest (late as in 'The Late Sir...') Dance hit is pumping its way thru my omnipresent head, I think i ought to define 'beat'. My good companion, Roget (what was it, couldn't his parents spell Roger?) has a heeyuge list of synonyms for beat, inc:-
be superior . periodic . impulse . surpass . oscillate (I like that) . crush . overcome . path(?) . strike . beat about . beat one's breast . beat about the bush (Kate?). retire . acoid . submit . time .
As I look up impulse:-
momentum . pulsion . concussion . bump . knock . tap . rap . slap . thwack .
Ah, well, you learn something every day.
This is an exception.
Pain, pain, go away, rack off, clear out, don't come back.
Yep, it's gone, only to be replace by 4 tonnes of plaster, fashionably set around the back & lower half of my lower leg & foot (right). Well, what can you say in protest to a golf club sweater donned doctor with the charm of Warren Beatty, and Marianne Faithful for a nurse? Not a lot.
Since the latest (late as in 'The Late Sir...') Dance hit is pumping its way thru my omnipresent head, I think i ought to define 'beat'. My good companion, Roget (what was it, couldn't his parents spell Roger?) has a heeyuge list of synonyms for beat, inc:-
be superior . periodic . impulse . surpass . oscillate (I like that) . crush . overcome . path(?) . strike . beat about . beat one's breast . beat about the bush (Kate?). retire . acoid . submit . time .
As I look up impulse:-
momentum . pulsion . concussion . bump . knock . tap . rap . slap . thwack .
Ah, well, you learn something every day.
This is an exception.
21st June, 1990.
Whether 'tis nobblier in the mind to suffer....
This pain business is really getting to me. It's so constant and present; I can see how masochists get off on it. Anyhow, I'm not going to talk about pain; it is what you find it. You can let it continue, or deal with it, or ignore it, but life has just as many letters as pain. So does carp.
Have you looked around, and noticed all the three lettered abbreviations in our world? Well, I don't know about your world, but mine does:-
MCA . MGM . ABC . BBC . EMI . AWA . PYE . RCA. ARC . FBI . CIA . KGB . NRE . GYO . HSC . CES . MTV . LRB . KFC . ANZ . AMP . ALP . SDP . PLA . IRA . SRC . TNT . KKK . GMD/KMT . CCP . MUD . GOD . SEX . ETC .
There's probably something psychological about a three lettered word or combination that makes it so memorable. Then again, three's a crowd, and every crowd has a silver rining.
By the way, my favorite rap group, RUN DMC, is made up of three people:-
RUN , DMC and JMJ
Whether 'tis nobblier in the mind to suffer....
This pain business is really getting to me. It's so constant and present; I can see how masochists get off on it. Anyhow, I'm not going to talk about pain; it is what you find it. You can let it continue, or deal with it, or ignore it, but life has just as many letters as pain. So does carp.
Have you looked around, and noticed all the three lettered abbreviations in our world? Well, I don't know about your world, but mine does:-
MCA . MGM . ABC . BBC . EMI . AWA . PYE . RCA. ARC . FBI . CIA . KGB . NRE . GYO . HSC . CES . MTV . LRB . KFC . ANZ . AMP . ALP . SDP . PLA . IRA . SRC . TNT . KKK . GMD/KMT . CCP . MUD . GOD . SEX . ETC .
There's probably something psychological about a three lettered word or combination that makes it so memorable. Then again, three's a crowd, and every crowd has a silver rining.
By the way, my favorite rap group, RUN DMC, is made up of three people:-
RUN , DMC and JMJ
Wednes. 20th June, 1990
A change is as good as a holiday.
Did I mention fate kicking you in the assets while you're turned around? Well, it happened today. Not that it was a botch job; oh no, famous fate really went to town on this one.
I currently lie perched on my bed with my injured right foot raised slightly. Pain, of course, is working its way thru my muscular system, accompanied by throbbing from my x-ray bill and clinic fees. Do you know what it's like sitting in a examination room (haha, not HSC, medical), surrounded by 'Smith+Wheeler' bandages (1 dozen per box) alongside a brown envelope containing monochromatic snaps of your pedestrious inners? Lucky.
Fate's 'piece de resistance' manifested at my school athletics carnival today. It being my last one, I decided to give it a real go, starting with the long jump. My 'go' sadly ended with the long jump, as on my third attempt, I landed the wrong way out of the pit. Funny, I didn't think ligaments snapped as loud as bones did. So, after my first and last event of the day, I retired to rub my foot with ice, hobble around, wince, and watch my few athletic friends enjoy themselves. On ya, fate. *
'S' of yesterday's chapter fame (S and T) drove me around to the X-ray place, and the rest is boring, and tedious. **
Anyway, my foot is losing consciousness, and I'm tired.
By the way, apparently the PTG's do exist...***
...they go under the alias of 'Williams's'.
(And no, close friends, I don't refer to my General Studies teacher - Miss Williams, who might be reading this - Hi, Miss, if you are! -).
PS. Yuk, I don't think i'll continue these postscripts.
Anyway, this original chapter was written in red, so if it's not printed likewise, imagine.
--- Editors notes
* - at least i got to listen to the cassingle of BatDance, by Prince, a lot.
** - oh, seems i have a page missing... that's Sharon and Tim, now Wright, nee Johnson.
*** - PTGs refers to Part Time Goddesses... the subtitle for this journal was
'...or Part Time Goddesses I Have Known.'
A change is as good as a holiday.
Did I mention fate kicking you in the assets while you're turned around? Well, it happened today. Not that it was a botch job; oh no, famous fate really went to town on this one.
I currently lie perched on my bed with my injured right foot raised slightly. Pain, of course, is working its way thru my muscular system, accompanied by throbbing from my x-ray bill and clinic fees. Do you know what it's like sitting in a examination room (haha, not HSC, medical), surrounded by 'Smith+Wheeler' bandages (1 dozen per box) alongside a brown envelope containing monochromatic snaps of your pedestrious inners? Lucky.
Fate's 'piece de resistance' manifested at my school athletics carnival today. It being my last one, I decided to give it a real go, starting with the long jump. My 'go' sadly ended with the long jump, as on my third attempt, I landed the wrong way out of the pit. Funny, I didn't think ligaments snapped as loud as bones did. So, after my first and last event of the day, I retired to rub my foot with ice, hobble around, wince, and watch my few athletic friends enjoy themselves. On ya, fate. *
'S' of yesterday's chapter fame (S and T) drove me around to the X-ray place, and the rest is boring, and tedious. **
Anyway, my foot is losing consciousness, and I'm tired.
By the way, apparently the PTG's do exist...***
...they go under the alias of 'Williams's'.
(And no, close friends, I don't refer to my General Studies teacher - Miss Williams, who might be reading this - Hi, Miss, if you are! -).
PS. Yuk, I don't think i'll continue these postscripts.
Anyway, this original chapter was written in red, so if it's not printed likewise, imagine.
--- Editors notes
* - at least i got to listen to the cassingle of BatDance, by Prince, a lot.
** - oh, seems i have a page missing... that's Sharon and Tim, now Wright, nee Johnson.
*** - PTGs refers to Part Time Goddesses... the subtitle for this journal was
'...or Part Time Goddesses I Have Known.'
17th June, 1990.
Forsooth, a plague upon thee.
Culture. A word spoken by critics from afar and artists aplenty. Yes, that secret ingredient of society (and yoghurt); it oils its well-turned gears and changes it into a socialising, walking, talking, art appreciating voyeur.
Where would we be without culture (except thousands of gallons of yoghurt short)? Who would entertain us at a reasonable expense? How would internationalism develop a flavour of its own? Where would creativity fall pregnant to ideallism, and have an abortion to give thought up for adoption? Where, indeed?
Questioning still, what does the average man on the street care if two hundred teenage Russian muscly blond girls train twelve hours a day, so they can bounce precision-like around a concrete stage in a tutu, and pay for their families to eat?
I made that up, but still, it's worth reading.
And yet: can a 17-yrold boy get sufficiently drunk on one small champagne bottle? We shall see...
Forsooth, a plague upon thee.
Culture. A word spoken by critics from afar and artists aplenty. Yes, that secret ingredient of society (and yoghurt); it oils its well-turned gears and changes it into a socialising, walking, talking, art appreciating voyeur.
Where would we be without culture (except thousands of gallons of yoghurt short)? Who would entertain us at a reasonable expense? How would internationalism develop a flavour of its own? Where would creativity fall pregnant to ideallism, and have an abortion to give thought up for adoption? Where, indeed?
Questioning still, what does the average man on the street care if two hundred teenage Russian muscly blond girls train twelve hours a day, so they can bounce precision-like around a concrete stage in a tutu, and pay for their families to eat?
I made that up, but still, it's worth reading.
And yet: can a 17-yrold boy get sufficiently drunk on one small champagne bottle? We shall see...
16th June, 1990
Alright now, settle down.
I feel that, to celebrate over one week of not forgetting to write more of this book, I should give the book some realism...
Awards for Being Themselves:-
1. ALAN BOND - The Man with the (Al)Most
2. SUSAN ROSSANGSTEPEACOKANEOUF - The One with the Most Men
3. HITCHCOCK - Who Really Done it
4. WILMA FLINTSTONE - Ecology's first Sex Kitten
5. ELVIS - For Being the First Star with 'Lives' for an anagram
6. OLIVER NORTH - Couldn't Even Disobey Orders Properly
7. FRANZ FERDINAND - For Being There
8. SHIRLEY MACLEAN - For Being There - Once or Twice
9. SLY STALLONE - For Ooei Mmghph Urrl Umph Err - Yeah
10. ROGET (of Thesaurus fame) - Wrote my favortie Book
wells, there you have it. A Top Ten of Sorts.
Should they read this --- write to me soon, guys!
( And please, none of this 'defammation' jive! )
Alright now, settle down.
I feel that, to celebrate over one week of not forgetting to write more of this book, I should give the book some realism...
Awards for Being Themselves:-
1. ALAN BOND - The Man with the (Al)Most
2. SUSAN ROSSANGSTEPEACOKANEOUF - The One with the Most Men
3. HITCHCOCK - Who Really Done it
4. WILMA FLINTSTONE - Ecology's first Sex Kitten
5. ELVIS - For Being the First Star with 'Lives' for an anagram
6. OLIVER NORTH - Couldn't Even Disobey Orders Properly
7. FRANZ FERDINAND - For Being There
8. SHIRLEY MACLEAN - For Being There - Once or Twice
9. SLY STALLONE - For Ooei Mmghph Urrl Umph Err - Yeah
10. ROGET (of Thesaurus fame) - Wrote my favortie Book
wells, there you have it. A Top Ten of Sorts.
Should they read this --- write to me soon, guys!
( And please, none of this 'defammation' jive! )
