12 hours of jet fuel, half a dozen games of Peanut spit Bingo and bang Tokyo. Fuck. Sleep deprevation, bad Qantas ( Read more... )

QCP in Japan. Freakish last 24 hours. Too much to detail, but it appears ( Read more... )

Inspiration can take on many forms, today's was eyed over the shoulder of a Tram driver. On the control 'dash' there were many ,'Go foward' and 'Open door' type buttons and switches. Amongst them was a button with no specific function, scratched into the metal beneath it were the words,'Machine gun'.Turning back, the audience was alternately awash ( Read more... )

Don't believe the hyperbole. There are merits to having a life erected in two rooms. Here, let me show you ( Read more... )

I think it would be fair to say that my soul is currently possessed. Sweet dreams Audrey Horne and may flights of owls wing you to your rest...

Through the darkness of future past,
The Magician longs to see
One chants out between two worlds:
"Fire Walk With Me"
- Poem of "Bob" - Twin Peaks

Equilibrium is what you would have. But first a couple of random reviews :

"It's the funniest American comedy since Graffiti Bridge."
-- Walter Chaw, FILM FREAK CENTRAL

"A dull, somnambulant exercise in pretension whose pervasive quiet is broken by frequent outbursts of violence and noise."-- Joe Baltake, SACRAMENTO BEE ( Read more... )

Of late I seem to be always in the eye of the storm. Actually not the storm, just a storm. A storm that constantly moves and lays waste while I smile, clink ice and enjoy the music. 'Claire de Lune' seems to be rolling around the base of my skull tonight, providing chamber music for a psyche that is looking more and more 'Dylan Thomas-esque' every ( Read more... )

Review of T3 - Message from hollywood to movie-going public... 'Thats right we own you, bitch'.

click click click...I secretly despise the transient nature of existence. In the excitement, one forgets, that with every crush of the trigger a piecemeal shot of existence is expended.. the moment vanishing rapidly through the present and beyond the ether - becoming nothing more than recoil ( Read more... )

So time came - and past. Candle lit and dark room meditations. Who could even say how much of any of it I believe anymore.. but then be it no more than a face - a lie - a dream ... is it no more real for undeniable pangs of loss ... words,words,words. Well at least I can be certain as to never have questioned why..