Back to the Rock

Ho-hum...

Signed up for Monster.ie. Fat lot of good it'll do me I'm sure.

If anyone out there has a free job which would involve lots of what I'm doing now (ie. very little) but for lots of money I can be contacted by the usual means.

Off to Achill again tonight, on the 8 o'clock bus, which'll leave me stranded in Castlebar at around midnight. Marv'lus.

Hi-hoooooooooo!

Strange Days Have Found Us...

Funny that O2 should have chosen as their new slogan, "Be tempted by the Dark Side."

Does this mean O2 is the Dark Side? Are they finally accepting their evil nature? Or have their advertising people just missed the whole point?

It makes you wonder... Well, me wonder at least...

In local news I have been wasting my time on various amounts of rubbish over the last while. I have drunk some beer, read some books, dug some holes and watched a helluva lot of Star Trek (the Original Series, none of your Captain Janeway or Jean-Luc Picard crap, thank-you very much! Captain Kirk all the way, baby! Sorry.)

I don't feel too bad on it either.

Funnily enough I find that since I have now finished with college for good and for all and no longer have to study, or pretend to study, lengthy boring things about stuff I don't even agree with I've kind of succumbed to my baser instincts. I'm getting in touch with my inner nerd and it's a little worrying.

I watched Rambo 3 the other night - it was a hoot! There's John Rambo, Amerika's finest, sent into Afghanistan to... To... To what?! Help the Mujahadin! Yes, there was his old boss and buddy captured by the evil Ruskies while trying to sell weapons to those nice Ay-rabs and Rambo had to rush in, kill every fucker in sight and save the day for God and Country and The Amerikan Way. Something tells me that film doesn't get much play in the States anymore.

I think it's my understanding of revisionist history, such as it is.

The hunt for a job is still on, although it's trundling rather than rocketing along. While I'm digging holes in Mayo I don't really have the will to go job-hunting, nor do I have the opportunity so much. It's a bugger.

There'll probably be more later, but for now I'm going to play with CVs. Hooray for me!

...And you thought I was nerdy!

THIS is one of the most incredible things I've ever seen... On one hand it is nerd-central, on the other it's bloody hilarious.

I think I'll email Darth Vader.

Priceless...

...I can't tell you, but I know that it's mine...

Bit o'Beatles for you there. Aren't you lucky things?!

Watched the Punisher yesterday. I'm not sure why I did that, in hindsight. I thought it might be a bit of fun but it was just shite. There's a very surreal bit involving a cowboy assassin who sings a shitty little ditty while failing to look threatening before dying mercifully. And John Travolta is so obviously In It For The Money it's not even funny!

It's a bit like Bowfinger, where they're following the star around and making a film he doesn't know he's in. The way John goes on, it's like he's not really there for some of it. As if he did the lines in front of a green screen one day and was then digitally inserted into the film. Perhaps not.

Well, I am officially finished with this college lark. More or less. Got the results to an essay I did a while ago. It was quite honestly the biggest heap of auld shite I've ever written. I was expecting a mark somewhere in the low 30s, but I came out in the 50s instead. My mind is boggled, cos I know it was awful. There was no hint of academia anywhere in that piece of shit. There were barely any points! Still, to quote Dickie Fitz, it was an 'interesting read'. Bizarre...

Still, we shall not look gift horses in mouths.

The one thing I'll miss about college is the free internet. It allows me to blog several times a day and there's something quite satisfying about that. I can't recall how many thousands of words I've written since I started this thing, but I'm sure it's a lot. Now, if only I'd put that kind of effort into my degree and/or my first New York Times bestseller.

(It is tentatively titled "The Stravinsky Code" - it's about this Harvard professor who falls in love with a violin only to discover he's become embroiled in a pseudo-intellectual plot and has to figure out puzzles only a three-year-old could understand while trying to maintain a po-faced stance against the flurry of clichés whisking around his tweed besuited person.)

Sarah is trying to find me a job. Which is nice of her, but I fear she's looking in all the wrong places. The kind of thing she's been looking at involves, y'know, knowledge, commitment, experience, all that jazz. There's nothing in any of these places about lots of money for staying in bed late and talking about SF over pints. Nothing at all!

Now, I know these jobs exist. I've heard talk...

So, if anyone out there has any ideas about where I should start looking (and if anyone says Forbidden Planet or Sub-City they'll get a nasty e-boxing!) then put your answers on an electronic postcard or similar thing and I'll follow it up or not.

Also, my current account details will be presented to anyone who feels the need to electronically transfer money into my bank to ensure my easy life remains thus. I'm thinking of turning myself into a charity worker: Save Stephen From Drudgery, or T.O.T.S. (Think Of The Stephens!)... You can email me at the address in the profile area which is right behind Leonardo's head. This way ----->

All donations gratefully received.

Buh-bye!

Recto/Verso

Last night I saw Rufus Wainwright's bum. I'm not proud of it, but he insisted on showing it to me.

Not just me, everyone in Vicar St. It was a good show. Cracking, you could say...

Anyway - Got my last exam ever in a little while. Which is great.

Then there will be much drinking and so on and so forth.

I'll try put something more fleshy up later, but for now I'm a little hungover and I can't really focus.

Bye.

Is Santa really gay?

I feel I should apologise for yesterday's garbled ramblings. There should have been much more English in it and much less gibberish, but what can you do? I'd just come from a ridiculous exam so my head and hands were working slightly on autopilot.

Today, on the other hand, I shall be as lucid as a great-aunt on coke.

Off to see Rufus Wainwright later, for the 2nd time. Last time I saw him it was just him and his pianner, which was amazing. The man has real presence.

This time he's got a whole merry band of, well, musicians. My sister and Sarah are coming along. I'm not sure whether this is a good idea. Rufus is a very pretty man so I'll have to put up with the two of them drooling at his feet. Fortunately he's also gayer than Santa after a bottle of brandy so all should be well.

Well, I mean, he can have Maebh - but I've got dibs on Sarah. I wonder how much my mother'll love that...

- Where's Maebh? Wasn't she supposed to be coming back on the 2 o'clock train?
-Um... Yes, well, you see... There was this man, Rufus was his name, and he said he'd give me a tenner for her and...
-You sold your sister for a tenner?!
-Mother, I cannot tell a lie... No. I said he could buy me a pint and it was a done deal.
-Oh, well... Hahahaha! Now that silly bastard has to put up with her! Thank you, Rufus, for removing this crazed teenager from our hands!
-Mother, he can't hear you, you know...

I don't think it'd go exactly like that, but, well, y'know...

That reminds me, I have to collect the wee bugger from the train station in a while. I say wee, but she's huge. Like an enormous skinny person with hair and eyes. Oh, yes...

And she's gonna blatter me when she reads this.

Adios amigos!

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away...

OK, first thing I have to say about Revenge of the Sith is that it is the film it needed to be, and more. The more is what's wrong with it, there should have been less.

About 45 minutes less.

The opening screen (see title) always sends a chill down my spine. Even in the wake of the Phantom Menace and Attack of the Clones that little phrase brings me back to the moment I saw A New Hope for the first time. And the music... As soon as that first Dah! hits you while you're trying to read the yellow background... it's a wonderful moment.

What follows is usually awful, and has been since Return of the Jedi (fucking ewoks!), so that is a lot of shite to forget about, but John Williams manages it every time.

But with this film, from the opening sequence of Anakin and Obi-Wan jetting in and out of a massive droid battle, to the moment Anakin succumbs to the Darkside - it's great! With a few saggy bits.

There are the bits where 'Annie' and Padme get all mooshy and bleugh which just GO ON TOO LONG! OK, so the reason he goes to the darkside in the first place is that he has a dream she's gonna die and Darth Sidious tells him he can save her by using the 'unnatural' powers the Jedi won't tell him about. But it didn't need to be laid on so thick!

The moment when Darth "I'm a big bad bastard in a suit and I'm gonna fuck you right up the galactic wazoo!" Vader steps up is, well, it's been so long... I felt tears...

Um... Overall, Georgie-boy managed to pull that rabbit we knew he was hiding in his hat, out - although he couldn't resist the schmaltz he's been so good at in recent times.

May the Forks be with you.

Overdue gloating.

I did write a lengthy piece about how much I had to gloat about on Friday, but Blogger chose the exact instant I pressed 'publish' to pull the plug for some 'scheduled downtime'. So it got et.

The gloating was over the new Star Wars. I have seen it. It is not as bad as we feared!

I have to run to an exam now, but a full review will appear later. I hope. If my head doesn't explode with all the checklists I'm supposed to be regurgitating.

Fucking ethics, who needs 'em?!

Don't you open that door...

Today is the day French takes it's toll... On my psyche and my degree result.

It's also Friday 13th, which should give some indication of how confident I'm feeling about not getting hit by a car on the way to the exam hall.

Not very.

Anyway, gotta go maul the French language - writing about Mary Hassan, headscarves, Iraq and not Mersault, because I can't remember a bloody thing about L'étranger...

Be back later to gloat. Yes, I have things worth gloating about... Mu-ha-ha-ha-haaaa!

Rude things - or are they...?

THIS is priceless stuff. I'd never heard about any of this Louie, Louie dirty lyrics thing before... Apparently the FBI spent 31 months in the early 60s trying to figure out whether the band, The Kingsmen, were saying this:

Louie, Louie,
me gotta go.
Louie, Louie,
me gotta go.
A fine little girl, she wait for me;
me catch a ship across the sea.
I sailed the ship all alone;
I never think I'll make it home

Three nights and days we sailed the sea;
me think of girl constantly.
On the ship, I dream she there;
I smell the rose in her hair.

Me see Jamaica moon above;
It won't be long me see me love.
Me take her in my arms and then
I tell her I never leave again.

Or, much more excitingly, this:

Louie, Louie,
grab her way down low.
Louie, Louie,
grab her way down low.
A fine little bitch, she waits for me;
she gets her kicks on top of me.
Each night I take her out all alone;
she ain't the kind I lay at home

Each night at ten, I lay her again;
I fuck my girl all kinds of ways.
And on that chair, I lay her there;
I felt my boner in her hair.

If she's got a rag on, I'll move above;
It won't be long, she'll slip it off.
I'll take her in my arms again;
tell her I'd rather lay her again.

..."I felt my boner in her hair"?! Cheeky! In the end, they decided they couldn't tell and because they couldn't be certain whether or not the lyrics were obscene they had to drop the whole thing.

There's tons more of this sort of stuff HERE and I strongly recommend you check it out, if only to find out about Coke's blowjob poster, The Rescuers' gratuitous tit-shot or which Bond girl was really a bloke.

I've just spent ages surfing around it and it's really easy to get sucked in - there's just so much crap to know!

And that is all for now.

The revival of English magic

Doesn't revival look funny? As a word...? Perhaps I'm spelling it wrong.

Just finished the wonderful Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell by Susanna Clarke (which I mentioned a few days ago. Somewhere...) and I'm a bit upset that it's all over. I was really enjoying it and now it's gone. I haven't read something as good since, well, maybe American Gods by Neil Gaiman, or In Your Dreams by Tom Holt.

It's hard to say.

It's much better than the bloody DaVinci Code anyway.

Got a letter today from my old mate Pat Ingoldsby, the former TV host and now poet I interviewed some months back, in response to my sending him a copy of my print project the other day. I certainly wasn't expecting such a speedy reply! I only posted the thing on Friday!

Anyway, the gist of the letter was that I am the greatest writer since Flann O'Brian and it was all very gratifying - good way to start a Wednesday!

It's been a pretty good Wednesday, all told. I also got a message telling me that the exam on Monday, or at least half of it, was the wrong paper. So, the girls who complained got us a result - Nobody does badly in it! That is a warm, snuggly thing to be told on any chilly morning.

Sarah's here now, about to do the Dante's Inferno test, I'll let you know how she gets on...

She tells me she had a meeting today with the woman behind Puca Puppets and it all went swimmingly. The woman liked her work and, now here's the best bit, it turns out the next show she'll be doing is an adaptation of Coraline by Neil Gaiman!

If you haven't read Coraline you should, cos it's brilliant! But you can't borrow my copy - My signed first edition! It's gonna keep me going through my autumn years...

Umm... Oh, yeah! Read today that the Hitch Hiker's Guide film took in £4.2 million on its first weekend in Britain. Anyone who knows the story will know that 42 is the answer to the all-important question of life, the universe and everything. In the USA the figure was $14.2, which is also scarily close... I love those little coincidences.

Visit 616abortions to see the band that was formerly Squid unfold into a whole new monster. I can't wait for their new album! It's only been six (6!) years in the making... I loved their first album, The Bitter Saint's Abortion. And people who remember me from first year may recall my scary shirt with "Unorthodox Devotee of Ritual Sex-Magik" emblazoned on the back.

Apparently Sarah shall be condemned to the City of Dis for her heretical views. Unsurprisingly she scored pretty low across the board, such a sensible person she is! They didn't ask any questions about chocolate, which accounts for her not being lumped in with the gluttons.

OUCH!

ULLAH!

Today has been a particularly slow day. I've been realising just how adolescent I am. Started the day listening to War of he Worlds, moved on to Wednesday 13 and Green Jelly and then found THIS, which is incredibly childish but also fiendishly addictive. Mind you, I did have it finished within ten minutes, so I don't think it counts as a proper addiction.

Don't judge me, I'm easily amused.

I have to figure out what I'm going to do with The Rest Of My Life in a very short space of time. My exams are done tomorrow week and then, well, I suppose I'm a journalist. Albeit one with a particularly shoddy degree.

Unfortunately I can't, well, won't, get paid for doing this. Which is a shame, because it's great fun to write. Don't know how you lot feel, but I enjoy it anyway. And that is The Important Thing.

Apparently universities in England are encouraging students to keep blogs because it's a good way for them to keep in touch with family and friends back home. I wonder what'll happen to this when I no longer have the luxury of free internet access and infinite time to sqaunder it...

I guess I'll just have to get on with the Great Irish Novel that's been sitting on scraps of paper in the back of my mind for years. Do you think Joyce would've written about zombies if he were alive?

Probably, but nobody would've known they were zombies...

Anyway, this is all fascinating, but I'm keeping you from playing that silly game and I don't want to do THAT, do I?

Damn you!!

The Dante's Inferno Test has banished you to the Eigth Level of Hell - the Malebolge!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:

Level	Score
Purgatory (Repenting Believers)	Very Low
Level 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers)	Low
Level 2 (Lustful)	High
Level 3 (Gluttonous)	Low
Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious)	Moderate
Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy)	Moderate
Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics)	Very Low
Level 7 (Violent)	High
Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers)	Very High
Level 9 - Cocytus (Treacherous)	Low

Take the Dante Inferno Hell Test

Gasptastic!

Today's second blog entry:

Check out The Devil's Dictionary it is fantastic. I have a lovely little hardback copy of this thing and it is hilarious as well as true...

And I came across this marvellous article about H.S.T. and his theories on 9/11 and how they led to his death:

"Hunter Thompson was working on WTC collapse story before mysterious sudden death, warned he'd be 'suicided'

Total 9/11 Info/Prison Planet | March 2 2005

Toronto Globe and Mail February 26, 2005:

Hunter telephoned me on Feb. 19, the night before his death. He sounded scared. It wasn't always easy to understand what he said, particularly over the phone, he mumbled, yet when there was something he really wanted you to understand, you did. He'd been working on a story about the World Trade Center attacks and had stumbled across what he felt was hard evidence showing the towers had been brought down not by the airplanes that flew into them but by explosive charges set off in their foundations. Now he thought someone was out to stop him publishing it: "They're gonna make it look like suicide," he said. "I know how these bastards think . . ."

Hunter S. Thompson ... was indeed working on such a story.

Now check out this February 25 Associated Press story about Thompson's death. Sounds a lot like a professional hit with a silencer:

"I was on the phone with him, he set the receiver down and he did it. I heard the clicking of the gun," Anita Thompson told the Aspen Daily News in Friday's editions.

She said her husband had asked her to come home from a health club so they could work on his weekly ESPN column...

Thompson said she heard a loud, muffled noise, but didn't know what had happened. "I was waiting for him to get back on the phone," she said.

(Her account to Rocky Mountain News reporter Jeff Kass is slightly different: "I did not hear any bang," she told Kass. She added that Thompson's son, who was in the house at the time, believed that a book had fallen when he heard the shot, according to Kass' report.)

Mack White sums up the questions well:
Thompson's family says he was not depressed, nor was he in enough to pain to kill himself. In fact, by all reports, he was quite happy. He was talking on the phone to his wife, getting ready to work on his column, when he decided it would be wise to kill himself, so that he could go out (we are told) while "still at the top of his form," even though this would mean not finishing his column or his expose on 9/11 (potentially the most important thing he would ever write) (?)... "

Stolen from www.prisonplanet.com

There's also an audio file of Thompson doing an interview with some ozzie radio guy where he talks about 9/11 and Kingdom of Fear and JFK. This is why the man was a god.

Off I go to dig out more shite for you, my dear readers, to read... Doodoodoo...

Goshdarnitt!

Why did the chicken cross the road?

Because Jim McDaid was driving on the footpath.

Ba-dum-tshish!

Just had an exam in something or other. Media Representation they call it, although it may as well be called Bullshit. Because that's what it was.

There's some dispute now over the content of the paper, I didn't notice anything - proof that my knowledge of What Goes On in this place is severely limited. Still, a nod is as good as a wink to a blind bat.

Spent the weekend in Galway at thge most excellent PAUL'S house. (Hi!) His fancy shmancy new house in the suburbs. I managed to eat lots of the excellent food Clodagh (missus Paul) laid out as well as lots of beer. This was all great fun, but the hangover was severe and well-deserved. Not a lot of studying was done.

I've just been informed that this is the ninth of May. I was sure it was the 11th. Just goes to show, once again...

Lately I am listening to War of the Worlds, by Jeff Wayne. Oh, it's cheesy, but oh, so much fun! "The chances of anything coming from Mars are a million to one, but still theeeeeeey come!"

And also William Shatner's album, Has Been. It's great! I read a review of it in... Something, which said it exists in a world where the bizarre sits comfortably alongside the mind-tearingly wrong. I don't think that's fair, I mean, how can you slag off an album which holds lines such as, "Live life like you're gonna die, because you are!" That is classic stuff!

His voice is great in a "no singing please," kind of way. A man's gotta know his limitations. As Sir Clint of Eastwood would say and Bill would agree...

Also heard Star Trekking, by The Firm, for the first time in ages! It's such a very funny song...

"Star trekkin' across the universe,
All aboard the Enterprise, led by Captain Kirk.
Star Trekkin' across the universe,
Boldly goin' forwards cos we can't find reverse...

"There's Klingons on the starboard bow... Jim.

"It's life, Jim, but not as we know it... Captain.

"It's worse than that he's dead Jim... Dead!

"We come in peace, shoot to kill!...

"You cannae change the laws of physics... Captain."

And there is your transcript of the lyrics. If you are so inclined you can sing it at home. If you've never heard the song that is too bad since I don't have a clue where you might track it down. I googled it, but to no avail!

Locus Pocus!

HERE is a rather over-cerebral analysis of H2G2 from that monolith of SF stuff, Locus. Talk about taking all the fun out of it!

And this is odd:



So is my new fancy-shmancy billboard thingy to your right --->

It amused me when I saw it on someone's rather cluttered blog, so I robbed it.

Teehee.

Nanananananah- PAXMAN!

Is it a bird?
Is it a plane?
No, it's Paxman!

With the power to steamroll politicians in a single question.

THIS is fantastic! Jeremy giving people a hard time, it's one of the few things worth living for...

If you can't watch the video, here's a transcript:

JP: We’re joined now from his count in Bethnal Green and Bow by George Galloway. Mr Galloway, are you proud of having got rid of one of the very few black women in Parliament?
GG: What a preposterous question. I know it’s very late in the night, but wouldn’t you be better starting by congratulating me for one of the most sensational election results in modern history?
JP: Are you proud of having got rid of one of the very few black women in Parliament?
GG: I’m not - Jeremy - move on to your next question.
JP: You’re not answering that one?
GG: No because I don’t believe that people get elected because of the colour of their skin. I believe people get elected because of their record and because of their policies. So move on to your next question.
JP: Are you proud -
GG: Because I’ve got a lot of people who want to speak to me.
JP: - You -
GG: If you ask that question again, I’m going, I warn you now.
JP: Don’t try and threaten me Mr Galloway, please.
GG: You’re the one who’s trying to badger me.
JP: I’m not trying to badger you, I’m merely trying to ask if you’re proud at having driven out of Parliament one of the very few black women there, a woman you accuse of having on her conscience the deaths of 100,000 people.
GG: Oh well there’s no doubt about that one. There’s absolutely no doubt that all those New Labour MPs who voted for Mr Blair and Mr Bush’s war have on their hands the blood of 100,000 people in Iraq, many of them British soldiers, many of them American soldiers, most of them Iraqis and that’s a more important issue than the colour of her skin.
JP: Absolutely, because you then went on to say “including a lot of women who had blacker faces than her”
GG: Absolutely right, absolutely right. So don’t try and tell me I should feel guilty about one of the most sensational election results in modern electoral history.
JP: I put it to you Mr Galloway that Nick Raynsford had you to a T when he said you were a “demagogue”.
GG: Sorry?
JP: Nick Raynsford. You know who I mean? Nick Raynsford. Labour MP?
GG: No, I don’t know who you mean.
JP: Never heard of him.
GG: I’ve never heard of Nick Raynsford, no.
JP: What else haven’t you heard of?
GG: Well, I’ve been in Parliament a long time…
JP: He was a Parliamentary colleague of yours until very recently.
GG: Well, most of them just blend one into the other, Jeremy, they’re largely a spineless, a supine bunch.
JP: Have you ever heard of Tony Banks?
GG: Yes I have, yes.
JP: Right, Tony Banks was sitting here five minutes ago, and he said that you were behaving inexcusably, that you had deliberately chosen to go to that part of London and to exploit the latent racial tensions there.
GG: You are actually conducting one of the most - even by your standards - one of the most absurd interviews I have ever participated in. I have just won an election. Can you find it within yourself to recognise that fact? To recognise the fact that the people of Bethnal Green and Bow chose me this evening. Why are you insulting them?
JP: I’m not insulting them, I’m not insulting you
GG: You are insulting them, they chose me just a few minutes ago. Can’t you find it within yourself even to congratulate me on this victory?
JP: Congratulations, Mr Galloway.
GG: Thank you very much indeed. [Waves, removes microphone]

It is marvellous to see little shits like that hurt. I stole the text from Gavin's Blog, but I don't think he'll sue...

By the way - Who voted for Johnny Ramone?
What is wrong with you?! The man was a jerk of the highest order... Yes, a jerk. I don't use that word nearly often enough. In this case it is certainly the optimific term.

God Bless you, Mr. Vonnegut

If anyone reading this hasn't read anything by Kurt Vonnegut, THIS is your chance. The man is a visionary genius and I love him so...

If you liked that, check out Slaughterhouse 5, which is his WW2 novel and also one of the finest pieces of literature ever created.

Dracula - I mean - Michael Howard has stepped, or at least said he'll step, down as leader of the Tories because they lost. Again. As we all knew they would.

Labour won, but everyone's acting as if they lost. Which is an odd situation for Tony I'm sure.

So far in the Black North Gerry is the only person who's been elected, with a whopping 70% of the vote. He's a popular guy. I'm listening to the election online through my minidisc player, which seems like a strange thing to do.

If you didn't read the comment from Rory (who has a blog at SolyentRed.net) then you won't be aware of his bubble-bursting explanation of the increase in my hit rates. Apparently the Irish Blogs virtual person who checks for new material twice an hour comes up as a real person on the hit-counter. That's a bugger.

Still, helped me limp over the 1000 mark and, as Rory himself has proven, Irish Blogs does indeed bring more people to the site.

FAME AWAITS!

Oh, how pathetic...

Oh, I almost forgot, I signed up for Planet of the Blogs as well. It describes itself as an Irish blogs aggregator. I love this linking business... Definitions at the flick of a mouse. Squeak.

This is good too, How Lightsabers Work... I wonder could I build one?

...And an hour and a half after Gerry's result was announced he is still the only elected representative in the North of Ireland. Is that Gerrymandering? No.

What's your Irish name?

Go to the bottom of the screen to find out your Irish name. I couldn't resist it. Turns out mine is Ciaran O'Connell, which is odd because I thought my Irish name was Stephen McMullin. What with me being Irish and all. Obviously I was wrong...

I entreat all sons and daughters of Erin to try it out, it's kind of funny. Maebh especially, I'd like to see what they come up with... Apparently my sister should be called Sorcha Egan. What are they basing this on?

As an experiment I stuck in Paddy Murphy, as Irish a name as you could possibly hope for, but the little green man disagreed. This individual (the majority of the country in other words) should be called Oisin Browne.

I'm agog.

Also... WOW!

Quadruple figures, never thought I'd see the day. Mind you, I do sit here hour after hour refreshing the screen, so it was only a matter of time.

That's not wholly true, some people do stop by! (not for long, but stop by they do...)

That'll do for today, you zarkin' froods!

Accused of a crime they didn't commit...

If only I could be committed, my life'd be so much easier. Breakfast, lunch and dinner laid on by friendly people in white coats who only occasionally strap me to tables to administer EST, sometimes truss me up in a nice jacket with the buttons on the back and very rarely dose me with heavy sedatives...

Ah... It sounds like The Life.

Mind you, that's what McMurphy thought and look what happened to him! *cough* There's your high-brow reference for the day. I was talking about the book, by Ken Kesey, not the film with Jack Nicholson in. Although it's a very good film.

Can't beat a good book though. Well, you can, but it won't feel anything because it's a BOOK!

Just spoke with a man named Cyril, I've never done that before. Not many Cyrils about. I used to have a puppet squirrel which was named, yup, Cyril, in a fit of bardic whimsy. So to speak.

This one is not squirrel, he is a person. And he may give me a job, provided he doesn't find this blog and realise that I'm barking mad, full of shite and really really really... Um...

Yeah, so, Thursdays. Aren't they weird?

I never could get the hang of Thursdays, as Arthur Dent famously said. How true.

Agragash is the name of the bowl of petunias, as far as I recall. I could be wrong, but you have no idea what I'm talking about so it's Moot Points all round. No lemonade for you!

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By the way, I got 75 hits yesterday. That's a lot more than usual... I think this Irish Blogs thing might be working. Perhaps I should start signing up for more such things... Perhaps...

I've a feelin'

Wow. British consulate in New York bombed with 'novelty grenades'. I wasn't aware there were such things... Do they come in Xmas crackers or something?

I wonder could it have anything to do with the elections in Britain today.

Mayor of Noo Yoik isn't letting anything slip, but it would seem fairly obvious. I doubt Mr. Bin Laden's involved though, mostly because nobody's been creamed. But why would you bother? What was the point? Perhaps the point was to make a point?

"Hey, even with all your security checks we managed to blow stuff up. You're not half so clever as what you thinks you is!"

Illiterate bombers, who needs 'em?

Undoubtedly this'll lead to even more restrictions on things, novelty items will be subject to rigorous (When Ah say riggurus, Ah means Riggerus!) security checks. The Chinese firecracker industry will disappear down the toilet and Beijing will collapse into a pile of novelty rubble.

Sorry, I don't know what THAT was about. One of the dangers of Thursdays.

I reckon today is one of those days within which I will complete nothing of importance and keep posting silly snippets of things here. You have been wormed!

not sure...

Where the fuck did THIS come from?

It is a genuine link that Big Brother saw fit to stick up here. What did I say? Is my writing particularly camp?

Google! I think you're buggerin' me about!

The mystery of the ads continues...

Nine inch-tastic!

Well... Here we are, again.

Leslie is demanding a full apology for referring to her as 'shmezzer', some people have no sense of humour, but sorry. For what it's worth... I won't do it again. I much prefer Lezzie Ramone anyway.

JOKE! Don't hit me!

*phew*

Anyway, there are actual real things for me to blather on about here. Such as...

1. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy - Saw the film last night and I have to say, Douglas would've been proud. It has all the things I wanted there to be and more...

The theme song, 'So long and thanks for all the fish', has to be one of the catchiest little ditties I've heard on a film score in some time. Joby Talbot, of Divine Comedy fame, did the music and so Neil Hannon turns up to do a bit of singing. just to keep it interesting.

Sam Rockwell's great, Martin Freeman's great, Alan Rickman's great, Mos Def's great (there's a great line where Arthur says, "So you're really not from Guilford. That would explain the accent..." Way to dodge complaints!) and the whole thing is, well, great!

Dec said he'd heard it was wide open for a sequel and I wasn't sure at first, but the more I think about it I suppose it could be. They didn't get to Milliways (the restaurant at the end of the universe) and the whole Stavromula Beta thing didn't come up. and the bowl of petunias did say, 'oh no, not again.' So there IS scope for another, but I'd be afraid. Very afraid. Like Luke Skywalker should've been...

2. Trailers - Saw some fantastic trailers. For anyone who hasn't seen the trailer for Sin City yet, your life is not complete. Mine is more so, but I shan't consider it fully rounded til I see the whole film. It looks fucking brilliant!

War of the Worlds looks, um, ok. In a very Tom Cruise and Steven Spielberg kind of way. And we all know what happens at the end. I think I'll stick with that silly musical version. It's hilarious.

Revenge of the Sith, or Star Wars 3 (6) looks great in the trailers, but I have no doubt I will be disappointed. There's just no way George Lucas has the skill to make the dark masterpiece this film needs to be! Yes, I'll pay to see it, but I won't like it.

Batman Begins. Gasp! It looks so good! Why wasn't Christian Bale made Batman before?! Why all the buggering about with Val Kilmer and George Clooney? Incidentally, Bob Kane (creator of Batman) said that his favourite Batman of all was Val Kilmer. What does he know? He's old! Adam West was a better Batman than that bastard. Even Joel Schumacher described him as the sickest man he'd ever met. Take note of that, this is the only time Joel Schumacher will be mentioned in anything like a positive light on this blog. The man is Hollywood's answer to Louis Walsh and should be hurt. Continually. For a longlonglonglonglonglong time.

3. Nine Inch Nails - The new album, With Teeth, is out and about. I'm currently listening to it online HERE and it's ok. There doesn't seem to be any major departure from his other stuff, although he would no doubt argue that it is the most technologically advanced and groundbreaking album since, well, his last one. What I don't understand is how a man as obviously talanted as Trent Reznor can spend six years making an album that sounds so samey... And he's still a whingin' bastard!

4. Rejection - It seems I don't have what it takes to be a sub-editor for The Star. Got an email today pointing out that I had inadvertently written gibberish where I should have placed a description of myself. Something like, "I am keenly interesting in journalism." Of course to the layman that LOOKS like gibberish, but as anyone who knows me will attest it actually means that in the manner of a keen edged blade I am a sharp and an interesting writer.

It's a fair cop I suppose, that'll learn me!

Now, I finally got around to re-reading my print project the other day and have decided it's not as bad as I had thought. For several months I've been afraid to even look at it, never mind peruse the text! As a result I didn't send out copies to the people I promised I would send them to as I was of the opinion that it was the biggest heap of shit to ever trickle from my fingers on screen via keyboard. It's not that bad.

Made me laugh a couple of times in fact. Mind you, that'll probably count against me.

So it would seem Pat Ingoldsby and James Kelly will finally get to read all the things I said they said and they'll no doubt be rather surprised that I would say they said such things... Or something...

Rock on you zarkin' froods!

He walks like a jerk, but he could eat you with a fork and spoon...

I don't quite believe it, Unclie Google gave me THIS, which just goes to show...

Them deadlines is coming closer. Next Monday marks the beginning of the end - EXAMS.

The last I shall ever have to take in this life. Unless I do something stupid like sign up for another degree or something. I seriously doubt that shall ever come to pass. For anyone in school who has accidentally stumbled across this world of filth, avoid college at all costs! The best bits, like drink, drugs, sex, blahblahblah, are all but gone the way of the free condom and the only thing left is the numbing drone of the Lecture and the horrible realisation at the end of it that the last four years have been a waste of time as you are now just as unemployable as you were when you left school. Less employable, in fact, as you are too old to do the sort of monkey jobs you would quite happily have done age 17/18. Over-qualified is what you've become.

God, that's depressing. But so's life.

Keep your chin up, lie back and think of Dr. Who. Hurrah!

A much needed 'goodbye'.