January 2003 Archives

Well my eyes didn't pop


Well my eyes didn't pop out, but I played bridge, and didn't write my essay. I'm feeling sort of better today, but wish I hadn't had that beer last night. I think it's a sure sign that it's about time to stop this habit.

Just did one of my monster washing up throes. Wish there was more to do online. Anyone got any suggestions about where to visit? Can't decide whether I should just take it easy for another day. I just feel as if I'm on the threshold of being remarkably creative, but I'm just not quite there yet. Wondering if Richard Walsh will take it amiss if I shut up during seminar. The rest hardly say jack anyway. Motherfuckers.

Terry, as always, was rather gratifying to talk to last night if only for a while. Not as boring as he could be :). Spong was supposed to be coming last night, but due to the excess of snow, he wasn't supposed to get here till 8 in the morning, spending the entire time in train stations. Poor guy. Probably sleeping it off now. Will be having dinner with him and the bunch of people at Maxi's later, a kind of reunion dinner for those not invited to Manchester by Lewis.

Supergrass rock. Make me feel like growing sideburns. Freaky huh? (Oh, Karen, if you're reading this and want the later albums, and can provide me somewhere to upload them...)

Well if anything makes me feel better, at least my Vanessa fixation isn't so pronouced as previous ones have been, which makes me feel better. All this obviously after being so bizarrely chatty during last term's Leeds trip. Less said the better. She and Emen look interesting together, and Dion would do quite well to get together with her. Again this is probably just me projecting. Yeah, Emen's so not going to read this. Neither Spong nor Edel for that matter. Actually no one who actually lives with me and has the danger of being continually reported/commented on. And I've not really been elbowing my way to talk to American girl with funny name in seminar...

Love the supergrass drummer. Magic.

Still feeling depressed, have just


Still feeling depressed, have just been watching this rather good sitcom called "Grounded for Life". I don't think I quite appreciate watching TV and other media as much as I do when I'm unhappy.

Just on a side note, I think I'll be switching the way the blog is organised, so that the latest blog will be the top most, if not when I post past midnight things get a bit screwy.

Sort of feel better about myself about having started the SDI campaign, makes me feel useful. I think I quite like the idea of doing regular writing of some form, even though journalism hasn't always been my favorite thing.

Those crazy fuckers are outside making a shnowman now. Vanessa's with them. Vanessa's rather attractive. And she's never going to read this. Muahaha. She's this Hong Kong woman who's doing psychology or something, who has a rather pleasant international school sounding accent. I really must say my time in York has been an exercise in loneliness, the product of which has been relentless slews of crushes on the women around me. I don't want to make to direct a connection but I think at least something to do with it is that I've never really had a good female friend growing up, and the first female "friend" I've had has been monkey. Using a romantic relationship as a template for having female friends is not something anyone would be comfortable with. I keep thinking women must get really freaky vibes from me. Again thankfully not many people read this. I really wish I didn't react in this way, because I really do like hanging out with women, it just makes me act like an idiot.

I really feel like playing bridge till my eyes pop out.

Fuck me, it's really snowing


Fuck me, it's really snowing outside. Shnowman :D. I didn't even realise till I went downstairs just now, since I can't see out my window in my room. Guess I'm not going to be going tomorrow to do jack then. Watching "Secret of My Sucess", which I like, but wish it wasn't what I was doing right now, or at least that my essay was done.

I'm really sick of doing


I'm really sick of doing my essay. Want to just chuck it in and not bother. Just feeling demoralised about all this, feel like resigning myself to being a failed academic.

Chatted to Karen last night, which was sort of nice. I think I feel a bit awkward about the fact that I didn't actually know her that well when she was in York, so find being pally a bit strange. Find myself being friendly in a way that probably just isn't the right register with which to talk to her. Can't say she hasn't been responsive though, either she's one of those people who's just prompt about replying to mails, or she's in one of those moods that I can get into when I'm trying to be friendly. I'm definitely not in one of those moods now, which is sort of why it's nice to have someone try to be friendly.

I'm just in one of those moods I get into I think when I start writing, when I eat alot (Karen, I really wasn't kidding, think whale) mong in front of the TV alot, do idle things like campaign for SDI in Opera. I suppose I should take it as a good sign, that I'm really in writing mode, but somehow my vision just becomes very much blinkered, I really can't remember what it was like the last time I wrote an essay, whether I actually felt this way. It feels familiar, but the familiarity is not tied to memory in any concrete way. Not that memory is concrete. I've been watching Lost Highway again, "I want to remember things my own way, not necessarily the way they happened". Just the thought of sitting in front of a Word document, especially one with so much scribble on it is just not my idea of fun. I can't bring myself to do it. I'll just have to wait and see. Writing about this is meant to make me feel better.

Starting to realise I'm not too keen to have too many people read all of this. There are a couple of people now who at least come over and have a look once in a while, which I really appreciate; but a bunch of people I know? no, don't think I'd want that. Somehow I'd love to hear what strangers would think about all this, but that's not very likely now is it?

This feeling really is so familiar, suddenly feeling very estranged and lacking in interest in books in general. For whatever reason I get drawn to watching TV and movies alot more. I probably do that because I feel so much more passive in watching them, and a large part is probably because I'm not being compelled to write on them, even though I suppose I'd want to.

I've decided that my louiskhorweiwu address at hotmail will no longer be active, I'll be using it purely as a .Net passport for messenger. Will have to find some way to tell the world about this. No one's sent me mail on that account for ages anyway, so...

I'll probably be doing the same for my yahoo account in the future, switching to operamail with the same username. Weltenschauung will become my public/commercial e-mail address. The operamail address will become purely a personal e-mail address.

Starting to think I should just go to Chicago anyway, in the hopes that it will make me feel better, and just to get out of my room. I can't really remember a time when staying still to work really did me that much good. Not that moving does wonders necessarily. There's not even anything worth watching on TV now.

Don't really feel like doing


Don't really feel like doing writing for my essay, and don't feel like reading so I shall blog. I like to think of this as a kind of disgesting of information, because I've sort of made a kind of breakthrough in my essay, and want to let it work around in my unconscious for awhile.

I'm also listening to CNET radio as well, which is my version of jogging, since it keeps me from thinking too much.

Still wondering whether or not I'll be flying to Chicago. I've actually scribbled about 13 pages of stuff for my essay, but just wonder how much I will be able to use while reshaping my arguments. Might go well. If I do fly over, I'll be bound to do a precies for Matt for him to comment on. I'll probably have to ask him whether I could bounce ideas off him during easter for Aeneas to Arthur, since I'll probably want to work on Kafka during reading week, while editing my Norse essay.

Feeling guilty about not replying to Karen so might go and do that now. Yeah well, not the most fantastic mail, but at least I replied :).

Was actually really looking forward to BuffyRadio this week, but they had "technical difficulties" so there was no show despite a rather annoying teaser.

Realise I've been a bit harsh on Opera, but really, their idea of a gold release really lacks quite a bit of polish. Fair enough to get it out the door, and reviewers are nice enough not to be bitchy about an underdog (or they just don't know) and I suspect most don't know/care about the user complaints about the new browser. Am thinking of starting a website/blogsite, something like "saveoperasdi" or something like that. Maybe it'd convince Opera to get their act together. Must admit though, in the final the speed it quite noticeably better, both with page loads and scrolling.

Oh, had lovely kebab just now, which I still have to pay Delwyn for, and we ordered ice-cream, Haagen Daz Belgian Chocolate which really hit the spot. Seriously thinking about just having a beer and going to sleep so I can be in the mood to work tomorrow. Will probably procrastinate getting my NUS card/tickets done.

In order to be disappointing


In order to be disappointing as well as to distract myself, I will not talk about my Norse essay that weighs so heavily on my mind. Instead I will talk about the release of Opera 7.

But before that I'm struck by the need to talk about this american girl in my Fiction and Narrative class. I suppose my initial reaction to her was, "oh my she's hot". Subsequently of course as some will know this was replaced by a certain level at which I tolerated her for being flaky in class - not talking about the subject at hand, jumping from point to point for no reason, waffling on about something she knows very little about - basically being really annoying. I say tolerate, but what I actually do is go around bad mouthing her to all and sundry, "blah blah, she's so annoying, blah blah she deserves to be shot, blah blah, I want to slap her silly". I think I've come to realise that I was doing what I do so often (which I assume to be really such a MALE reaction) was dissociating my rather obvious attraction to her. I don't think as a nett effect her actually being annoying has managed to counteract that attraction. It's gotten to the extent where I wasn't just thinking of her as annoying and actually rather fancying her but in my mind accusing Richard Walsh of being rather attracted to her. I suppose I'm not at all surprised (least of all at the fact that this is me) but it really is rather bizarre. I must say though that in the end it really is true that once you get to know someone personally (and not just publically as she speaks during seminar) that things really change. It was when we were having coffee with Richard Walsh during the break that she asked about getting contemporary plays (directed at Richard of course) that I just thought to myself - "yeah, whatever". Whether this is just another strategy of mine that will succeed in amusing me further we'll just have to see.

Honestly (as far as I'm not again decieving myself in that rather startlingly unconscious way) I'm more inclined to be friendly with Johnny, who I knew in my first term, when he was in Ulrika's seminar group. I don't know why, but I've always thought of him as being rather more friendly than the rest of them, most likely because he is. That said, my presentation group is also remarkably nice, with Matthew being quite a bit more open despite an earlier retiscence, and Hepsie just being nice and soft spoken, sort of a sweeter (ie less sharp) version of Tara (who was in my American Lit course). I told Tara the joke from Rules of Attraction about subtitles before seminar one day, which I'm not quite sure she quite appreciated, but she's quite nice anyway.

Okay, back to Opera 7. I'm disappointed. I participated in their rather drawn out beta process, expecting it to be an enjoyable one, having access to new functionality, which would make up for the bugginess of the betas. It now looks like I'll have to endure it with the "final" release as well. The most annoying bug isn't fixed, where the clicking on folders from the personal bar leads to a drag and drop effect. Annoying. And they've made the horrible decision of getting rid of the functionality in Opera 6 of allowing "SDI", which, with the implementation of the page bar, meant that you had the best of both worlds, the ability to use tabs, but still being able to seperate them into various windows. I was hoping they'd change this after beta 2 but they haven't, pissing me off. If you have no idea what the fuck I'm talking about, you can find more info at the Opera website. That said, the browser itself is quite nice, and is just more usable/responsive than mozilla derivatives. I suspect that having too many bookmarks, or simply just having an imported bookmark file causes problems with opening new windows, but I can't be sure. I am going to resist the urge to download Phoenix again, because that will just disappoint me further. (is smooth scrolling really too much to ask for?)

Been in a flurry of


Been in a flurry of activity in the past couple of hours, as I've been developing my argument for my Norse essay. It's going well, and I think the essay will now be much less about defiance than about representation, the means and processes by which meaning is imposed - basically an examination of Norse poetics in terms of "the age of sagas" as a moment of flux, of a change-over of perspectives from conceptions of honour to the coheasion of society.

Before that was the less intense by incredibly gratifying visit to Leeds, buying food and more importantly meeting Sulin. We had a nice lunch and an okay conversation. Managed then to go to Sulin's halls (despite lugging around 20 kg of rice + sauces etc.) and "bridge" ourselves silly. Feel really bad for Sulin about the size of her room and the crampedness of her conditions, I'm sure she's reconciled herself to it and seems to be reasonably resigned to her position. But Sulin is incredibly sweet and fun and lovely to be with, and had a fantastic time playing bridge with the group that was there (Delwyn and Dion). I think I'll always miss living in B block with Sulin and Peishan and that bunch; the fact that it's gone forever as a place in time makes the loss all the more poignant. Will always regret not being better friends with Sulin. Saw William. William is such an incredibly handsome turtle.

I wish I had the time/inclination to completely and fully represent what happened during the Supergrass concert because I had a fantastic time, and think the band is music of a calibre that is incredibly effective and dramatic. I don't think I've quite understood about aura and presence as much as when I was there (because of course the presence, the aura is past, irretrievable), even if I've encountered it before. I suppose I was looking to Gaz most of the time if only because his voice is so incredible (at the moment it ranks with a poignancy on par with Jeff Buckley), but it must really have been the presence of the bassist and the drummer that bowled me over. The bassist just strikes me so much as a spiritual center when he sang the songs I assume he wrote and by the sheer ordinariness (seperate from the almost televised presence of Gaz) of his appearance and demeanour. The musicality of the group I can only imagine in relation to the tightness with which the drummer held them together and the fullness of his rhythmic ingenuity. Because of course despite how moving they can be Supergrass has always been a band concerned with the aesthetics of movement and the fundamental experience of rhythm - something so central to rock and roll, what Elvis Costello refers to as its origination in beat music. The primacy of this perspective on their work is nowhere clearer in the pleasure obtained from Gaz doing his turn as Elvis, "I'm a rock and roll singer in a rock and roll band". Whereas I always suspect Paul McCartney's melodicism in bass playing was an expression of his internal insincerities (however false that presentation is in describing fabulous muscianship), the rhythm section there infuses Supergrass' work with a kind of fullness of expression, a depth and preternatural affinity in feeling - something that transcends moments when Gaz is alone with the guitar, something that moves them beyond themselves with their instruments and is transmutated into the music itself.

I've at least started thinking


I've at least started thinking about my Norse essay again, and reading the ghost passage from Njal's Saga just reminds me of how important the theme of defiance has be. Yes, both Gunnar's are defiant as such, but what is the essential difference between them? One is elaborating a textually ambivalent challenge to the operation of the law, while the other directs that defiance against an adversarial other who represents the antithesis of order. And yet both maintain the centrality of what is right - correct personal conduct which in many was is made seperate from the aegis of the law. That would be how one text illuminates the other, that while Atlakvida presents the defiance of disorderly and anarchic forces, Njal's Saga shows that defiance to be independant of notions of law or prescriptive order. Atlakvida is the raw presentation of the extreme ideal, whereas Njals Saga puts that ideal in a broader socialogical context.

Why is being desperately unhappy like this? I'm staring at the stuff in my room (specifically littered all over my floor), and despite jokes to the contrary, not seeing floor isn't a great thing. You (my disembodied Reader) can perhaps disregard my desperation for a moment, for in the time between this sentence and the next will not be the time between thought and typing, but rather the time between desperation and action. Floor.

Have to thank Zhi Xian for her lovely rug, it's quite fantastic being able to just take it outside and fling junk off it and turn it around so the cleaner side is up.

I wonder about Weichean's possession (take that A.S. Byatt) of the Avril Lavigne album which I listened to while tidying (yes not cleaning, Claire) my room. Sounds like angry chick music to me. Wei Chean is interesting that way.

Some time has passed, and I've been calling back and forth between Wayahead and the Barbican Box office for fucking up my Supergrass tickets.

Another thing about this blog


Another thing about this blog is the fact that it doesn't really follow my "days", since I slept last night at about 4am and just woke up at about 1pm. Buggy.

When I wake up basically I just get up and check my e-mail, go to my news sites. Apparently news is the new porn. Well actually I woke up to watching Cheers, which is pleasant enough. I started watching Cheers only really from last year when I got the TV, and was inexplicably free in the afternoons. It's strangely appealing as afternoon TV. They're showing I think earlier seasons, when the blonde woman and the coach are still around; things you learn from watching E! true hollywood stories. I had a dream about the Supergrass concert, the highlight of which was the fact we forgot to pick Clarissa up, so she had to pay for another ticket to get in. Had just been telling Terry yesterday that I don't really have vivid dreams anymore, but I suppose I'm just quite awful at remembering them since they don't tend to recur that much. I remember a reference to Antwone Fisher, which I know is a movie, but I can't even remember what it's about, much less why I'm having a dream about it. The only things I did tell Terry about were the fact that I tend to have these dreams when I'm not sleeping well, esp when I sleep lazy naps in the afternoons.

The most vivid of dreams I used to have occured when I was still getting really high fevers, probably till around late primary school, when I'd have dreams of fantastic medieval battles in extreme slow motion, with adversarial lances whose ends seemed to regress into swirling infinity. I also remember a period when I used to throw up alot, within a short period of time, which no one seems to remember about nowadays - this is particularly strange as I don't really remember seeing a doctor about it, I remember it happening for quite a while (longer when I was younger) and my family being rather nonchalant. I wonder if they even knew. And I wonder now because of all these things at those events taking on a dream-like quality. That wasn't an affliction with nearly the physical nagging dreariness of chicken pox and its emphasis on the pestilential nature of the body, the infectiousness of it.

Must soon write about my memories regarding watching films during NS.

Don't know how happy I


Don't know how happy I am about the fact that (now that I've figured it out) the entries will be chronological, but only within the day, so people who jump in in the middle will read the latest day, not from the beginning. I suppose I might shop around, but then I'd have to move stuff, which would suck.

It's one of those times again, when it's late, I should try to go to sleep, but I'm just not in the mood to sleep. Listening to CNET radio, specifically David Coursey's Anchordesk show, which is really quite an entertaining (to me) radio show about technology. It's basically just nice to have some kind of media playing in the background. At least I can listen while I browse or type. Can't really use it in Opera without jumping through some hoops, but with Optool, I can switch back and forth quite seamlessly. It's the same thing with BuffyRadio, which is really quite entertaining as an hour-long radio show that comments on the world of Buffy. The presenters are pretty fun people, particularly the enthusiastic female Buffy fan "Estro-Jen".

In general, online content can actually quite engaging, I'm just remembering the recent Macworld Keynote by Steve Jobs being a rather exciting event, when people talk about that guy's "reality distortion field" I know exactly what they mean.

Starting to drop off, and being quite distracted by David Coursey, but the show's just ended, so I wonder if I'll be in the mood to write more.

Oh I suppose I should mention that last night it struck me watching "Breakfast Club" again (which I do periodically) that it's the originator, I pretty certain, of a number of references from Matt Groening cartoons. These seem to be centered around Judd Nelson's character, who tells off the detention teacher with the classic Bart phrase "eat my shorts", and who that teacher repeatedly referes to as Bender. Freaky huh? Teen movies are a particular obsession of mine, particularly from the 80's but including a number from the late 90's as well. John Hughes would be the locus for quite a bit of these obviously, though I probably would point to Fast Times At Ridgemont High as being top of the pile. Molly Ringwald has a particular charisma though, not to mention Ally Sheedy. Favorite performer (in this context at least) would have to be Andrew McCarthy. Probably all began back in Holland when I'd watch whatever was on late into the night when I wasn't going to school, and just remember being very moved by the sentiments of these rather earnest dramas. It's a bad word, but there's a certain charm about them that never quite escapes me.

I must say though, that having a real auteur handle sentimental material puts it in a whole different league, thinking about Lynch's "The Straight Story". Who'd ever have thought he'd direct something for disney? Handled with a particular irony and humour that never detracted from the emotional effect of the story. I suppose it's the same with Poliakoff. Have to agree with monkey's lecturer, that that portion of Shooting the Past is probably in 20 minutes, magnitudes more effective a presentation of the holocaust then the entirety of Schindler's List. And the way this guy handles stories is just beyond belief.

It's gotten to the point


It's gotten to the point where I don't actually remember everything I thought I could put into my blog anymore, which I think is probably the natural thing. Highlight of the evening was probably talking to Terry, one of the English housemates I have. Spent about 2 hours talking to him about computers, software, exciting things like that. It's like talking to Michel, which is something that could be nice to pass the time with every now and then. Wonder if Michel's got his lovely new powerbook yet. Edel actually popped her head in to my room (which doesn't happen often) earlier, to ask about what we'd be doing over Chinese New Year since the bunch of them are going over to Lewis' place in Manchester. Apparently Yeen Nie's decided that the CNY Singsoc thing might not happen. After talking to Terry promptly went to Delwyn's room to convince Dion to play cards, which wasn't going to happen, and joined Delwyn for what has been the daily imbibing of Grolsh the past couple of days. Must say I feel better after it, and it really is the case that if I didn't drink just a bit, I'd probably start smoking again. monkey's telling me about her nice Madeira cake right now. Lovely.

Just remembered about Sulin last year, when I sat in the kitchen and watched her bake a cake on my birthday thinking to myself, "oh sulin like to bake cakes, lets sit and keep her company", totally oblivious to it being my birthday. Sulin's nice. Will probably be seeing her over the weekend, cuz the guys want to go and register for their driving and things.

Starting to realise how difficult this could be if I decided to be really serious about it being me trying to "write". Will have to see how it goes, don't really know how satisfying it will be just writing things down that have happened. Hope to give a nice glowing review of Supergrass tomorrow. Hope the opening act isn't too rubbish. Still haven't cleared up my room, will have to make that more of a priority tomorrow, now that I'm not feeling so shit, and hopefully go and buy my plane tickets as well. Don't know if I should go and see monkey over reading week. Big parts of me are saying yes. I'll probably have to ask for money then. Again, we'll see.

This is a bit extreme,


This is a bit extreme, and obviously I'm not going to be so obsessive for long - I've just gone out to Costcutters which is all of 30m from my house in Halifax and bought some food. Those of you reading this who've lived in the UK as students and are used to the kind of food I'm buying should recognise the strange mingling of knowing disgust and hungry delight at these foods. 2 bottles of Sunny Delight (insert witty detraction here), a bag of oven chips, fish fingers, southern chicken breasts (for the oven), and a pork pie. Pork pies are lovely. Mmmmmmmmm. I feel disgusting. It's the mixture of coagulated pig fat with the meat and manufactured pastry thats just so very satisfying.

I've been thinking since I started the blog about what Judith was saying about Borges and memory, that a person who remembered absolutely everything would be unable to write stories. Someone who takes an entire day to tell you about a day is contrary to the artistic spirit of representation, of picking and choosing things of significance and meaning in order to convey an idea. I feel as if I'm creating a big hairy monster that will be out of control, that will have only the gleanings of some oblique meaning and form. Again, isn't the way we view the world novelistic in our selectiveness as to what we want to see and how we want to see it?

I wonder about Tim being in MINDEF, and whether he's miserable there. I oscillate between the times of particular nostalgia for the army and the knowledge of my then-delusion.

Sent invitations to Tim and


Sent invitations to Tim and Cari. If they're here, hi.

Starting to feel a bit uncomfortable addressing people, seems to detract from the me-ness of this. I suppose I could end up putting all me e-mail correspondences here and allowing this to document *everything*. Wonder whether I should stop with my "metablogging".

I suppose I should mention Mariah's new video, which for a while at least you should be able to download from here. SVCD quality, very good quality. Mariah daily's also a premier Mariah fan site. But yes, the video is pretty fun, if only for the extremely charming bits at the end when she's being coy with Cameron. Wasn't too sure about the whole thing with her in the car giving Bianca (her skanky alter-ego) the kiss-off. She's become a bit pointed an barbed (understandably of course) in recent times, especially post-"breakdown". Thought the whole thing with "Clown" and Eminem was just a bit overblown, somehow lacking the kind of control that she's so fabulous for in terms of her music. Clown as a rewrite of Breakdown(from Butterfly) doesn't compare well in terms of lyrics.

Been in a quite REM mood recently, listening to New Adventures in Hi-Fi. Currently listening to Reveal, which I bought but never really listened to. Going for Supergrass at the Barbican on Thursday, starting to feel a bit ambivalent about it, but should be fun regardless with Delwyn (who I'm getting along quite well with recently), Clarissa and Dion. The new Supergrass album is absolutely fantastic, Gaz's voice has a kind maturity and feeling that is quite breathtaking. It was nice having Clarissa and Vanessa over last week, breaks up the group in the house (plus Dion). Feeling guilty about not asking Andrew over. Wondering if I should go and order that promised half-case of wine. Bordeaux of course. It's really such a naff story that I'd not relate it without specific requests (and conditions of not thinking it sad). Subtitles is bit more fun, if only for me.

Makes me think how intrigued I am about reading Delillo's "The Names".

I think strangely that I've been drawn back to reading quite a bit in the recent weeks, despite my academic setbacks. Waiting with trepidation for me 1900-1950s results to come out on 3 Feb. The 68 for my Delillo essay was really puncturing my ego for quite a while till Judith Geoff decided to do a better job of it. Should write a bit about being "marks-conscious" at some point, but will save that for when I don't feel so strongly, and don't feel so fatigued.

Peishan has rather cleverly pointed


Peishan has rather cleverly pointed out the serendipitous nature of my provided e-mail address. Weltenshauung, as I understand it broadly means your personal, ideological conception of the world, which I suppose is quite nauseatingly fitting for a blog such as this. Corrections to this definition are welcome.

Am thinking of mailing Cari about my lovely blog, maybe Tim as well. I must say I was rather gratified (I'd say touched, but I'm trying to move away from that schmalzyness in my discourse) that he added me to his messenger list so promptly after my e-mail to the yahoo group. All these signs made in the air that we don't know how to interpret. Tim is one of those people that hover like a ghost over my past - in a ambivalent way, though obviously with broad strokes of nostalgia. We'll see.

Having unleashed Peishan on my


Having unleashed Peishan on my blog, I'm starting again to think about these things as public record again. Is this to be like Malory's great stories? Simply the record of the public personas? Is it really a case of what you do not want published you burn? Am also starting to wonder about writing these things on the fly, whether I should keep my publishing consistent rather than simply blowing my load now. I suppose the fun in it is the uneditedness of it, that these are thoughts, not considerations as such; but as Richard Walsh seems to argue, isn't the way we write very much like the way we view the world? To be more precise, we already consider some things at length even before be get the oppurtunity to stream our thoughts, so how is this different?

The image of Blackadder's queenie keeps popping into my mind, a by-product of my having watched the Lost Prince yesterday. Miranda Richardson is quite delightful.

Am feeling very much now that this page should not be "entertaining". This is meant to be my record or myself, and a means of making myself happier, as well as some practise with writing, of all places I wouldn't want to be a performing monkey here.

Wonder again about all these short posts, but suppose they'll dry up soon enough.

I've just added my e-mail


I've just added my e-mail address to the left, starting to find out how tiring this (blogging) can be. The e-mail address obviously isn't hyperlinked because I don't want spam harvesters to get hold of my wonderful new address. But yes Weltenschauung is something I got from reading Lukacs, one of the theorists on my Fiction and Narrative course. It's useful because it's a long word and hence I could get hotmail to accept it (ie it's not been used). Subtitles apparently was taken. Shall have to put aside some time to explain these things some time, but then again maybe not. Pardon all the bits of literariness and bolded text, that's me trying to write like Golding, specifically from To the Ends of the Earth. I've just seen Peishan bling at the system tray, should she be the first to read my blog?

I've just changed a few


I've just changed a few settings, probably the most important of which is to show my entries chronologically, as opposed to newest first. Shouldn't narrative be experienced, especially for people new to it, from the beginning? Isn't that the easiest? Perhaps the last thoughts suddenly do become the first that we remember, but I will have an Iron Will in this manner, the past is the past, and yet it is immanent to us, for is it not Origin?

I have returned (cereal in


I have returned (cereal in hand) and decided I should start really by posting something from Ford Madox Ford's The Good Soldier, a kind of recognition of the little "description" that's on the left of this post.

"You may well ask why I write. And yet my reasons are quite many. For it is not unusual in human beings who have witnessed the sack of a city or the falling to pieces of a people to desire to set down what they have witnessed for the benefit of unknown heirs or of generations infinitely remote; or, if you please, just to get the sight out of their heads."

That said, hopefully all this will not be too dreary, as even now I'm sort of feeling better, and would like nothing better than to talk about something mundane and pleasing.

I just munched into a humungous amalgamation of raisin and bran just now. No doubt the stickiness of some of the raisins has led to a bunch of the cereal coagulating. I don't suppose I should have just eaten it out of curiosity but it tasted fine and here's me not keeling over.

I've been thinking about who I should be allowing to read all this, the limiting of which (beyond strangers) should not be a problem since no one will know about this unless I tell them and ask them to come. Top of my contention list is my parents, who I would like to give some insight into my life, but don't know if they'd really appreciate it. The more people I know who I include, I think the more constrained I'd feel in my writing - in an overblown way the imposition of society creating self censorship. Well for the moment when no one will read this, it will remain Autonomous and unfettered; the very transposing of surface thoughts and emotions from me to the page!

I think I'm beginning to understand now the way in which Golding fell into moments of explicit meaning in his travelogue, it seems almost an inevitable product of writing down one's thoughts, that meaning and significance suggest themselves to you.

In an attempt to stave off the onslaught of such trappings of potential pretensiousness (internal or external to the self we wonder?) I will end this entry merely by saying that it's a pity this blogger doesn't function too well with Opera 7, though without pop-ups using IE for just this isn't too bad. I'm not a standards warrior intent on making things even, if I was I'd use that big hairy monster called Mozilla, or it's mewling puking sibling, Phoenix.

I've decided to begin my


I've decided to begin my illustrious career as a diarist, the new (and public) form of which appears to be blogging. This is mostly in reaction to my despondency about my Oral Assessment results that got written in stone yesterday. Woo-fucking-hoo. Your diarist will now be taking a short break to get cereal and then posting more.

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