June 2002 Archives
What I did after the football (Whedonesque preview)
Got some news today. Perhaps this unemployment thing will turn out to be a blessing - looks like I will be up to my neck for the rest of the year. All will be revealed.
Oh dear. It all turns into a pop video now. Cafu's on a dodgy stand holding up the cup, hi energy pop blasts through the stadium, and the team are all touching the cup like it's a relic.
Pele still looks good, doesn't he? Certainly compared to Beckenbauer. The Brazilians know how to celebrate, I cannot imagine the Germans dancing the samba on the pitch. Neither can I see them form a circle and go all religious on us. Stuart says Ronaldo looks like the Virgin Mary first, and then Jesus Christ. I think he looks like a happy boy. These scenes of joy are hugely moving and cathartic.
Ronaldo's taken off, Denilson's in - to get his name on the score card, I guess. We're in injury time, or whatever. Oh, Ronaldo is crying in a coach's arms. Amazing. YES. It's DONE! Brazil win the world cup. Woohooo! I'm all teary eyed.
Just a minute or so to go now. Brazil have got it. This is an enormously satisfying end to a whacky tournament.
Chance for 3-0, Rivaldo intercepts, crosses over to Rinaldo...., argh, bad pass, no cookie for you.
The Germans are putting the pressure on. Brazilian goalie taps out a hard shot on goal, I think he's just surpassed Mr Kahn.
I'll forgive Ronaldo for his insane haircut.
Brazil 2 - Germany 0. My god. I can't even take a drag off me smoke and they score. What the fuck happened there? That one just put goosebumps on my arms.
YES!!! Ronaldo scores again.
Brazil are letting the Germans come to far into their zone. C'mon, get onto it earlier, don't let them make the play.
BRAZIL 1 - GERMANY 0. Rivaldo had the shot, Kahn blocked it, Rinaldo who had had a chance just a minute earlier, finishes it off. Yes, yes. yes. More now, please. To be fair, both teams deserve to be ahead, really, they're putting on a great show.
Rudi Voeller's hair is just wrong. There's been an injury and the match has lost its pace. Germany are taking a free kick, nice swirl into the box but Brazil have it now. Rinaldo ... GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAL!
Ah, looks like Blogger's back up. Thank you. Back to the match.
SONTOLOJOH! Thinking of my granddad now, who used to shout and scream, getting off of his seat in front of the telly. He loved his football and nothing, nothing would keep him from watching the games, even if all the grandchildren wanted to watch something else. We'd have to retire to the dining room and make do with the old black and white telly to watch Star Trek or whatever it was we wanted to see. 'Sontolojoh' was my granddad's favourite cuss word, I'm not sure it even meant anything, some kind of made up Indonesian word (perhaps someone out there recognises it? I miss my grandparents. All of them. Here's to Opa Dam, Oma Lien, Opa Boer and Oma Boer.
KLEBERSON hits the crossbar. Faaacking hell. OK Brazil, this is your cue, take over this match. Please. Germany has dominated, but the Brazilians have had more shots on goal. OH MY GOD. Rinaldo whacks it straight into Kahn. Um.. I just shouted out loud, and I'm on me own in my house. I'm slightly embarrassed. Half time.
Colina's sticking his arm up in the air, at your service, and it's a tad frightening. Ah good, Brazil are getting into it now, but Germany's defense is very effective. Little terriers at their feet, and the Brazilians don't seem to know from possession.
The Brazilians are a shade of their former selves while the German machine controls the match. How's that for some cliches, eh? Maybe I can start a career in sports journalism. OH MY GOD, RONALDOOOOOO!. Damn, thwarted.
Woohoo, Brazil get a chance. Great pass in from Ronaldinho. AAAAAAAAARGH, how can Ronaldo miss that? It's those years at PSV, must have dimmed some braincells.
Gene Hackman's started coaching the Brazilian team? So far, the Germans are the more dangerous. C'mon Hackman, get yer men in gear.
Hmm. Sunday. World cup final. Ibook. Couch. Coffee. Good. C'mon Brazil!
Look, I've brought timestamps back. I mean, what are they gonna do? Fire me? Heh. Anyway. Referee Colina looks like Pim Fortuyn. In a bald and tall way.
Nick writes about London. Short and sweet.
Priceless.Steven Berkoff's deported from the US. "He kept telling them 'I'm not a terrorist, I'm an actor'."
She's to be next season's Big Bad? You heard it here first. Talking about Buffy spoilers, Fox are coming down hard on The Buffy Cross and Stake, a prime source of spoilers. Angel X, who runs the site and its board, has been told to cease and desist, in a 'we know where you live' way. Word is Fox will be going after other sites as well. Um... spoilsports. Spoilers hit the net so early last season, fans assume the leaks are fairly high up in Mutant Enemy ranks. For Fox to come after the fans for it seems a tad unfair.
I'm going back on my initial 'must show up at work regardless of how things stand' atttitude. I don't think I could have coped with more of the 'understanding and empathic glances and taps on shoulder' from my now "ex" colleagues. I'm sleeping in today. Also, I think it's wholly inappropriate for the two people I want to talk to the most right now to bugger off to France with no means of contacting, one of them camping, and the other camping it up, no doubt.
16 out of 20 in the European knowledge test. (via L-rs who scored 20/20, the bastard)
I'm not really taking to that Fischerspooner lot, even if it was plugged to me by Mr-I'm-too-streetcred-for-my-shirt. They're interviewed on Wired.com: "Fischerspooner are transforming this boring electronic dance music that's been going on into something new and exciting." (I'm laughing hysterically again.) So... um, enough music talk, on to the goss... is it true one of them is Michael Stipe's bf? (via ILE)
There's an odd bit of fan worship on line that I can't really get my head round. People making their own music videos, taking film or images of their favourite series/actors and setting it to some song that they like or think appropriate. I don't really get it, cause you're looking at bits of scenes, without the dialogue - what's the point in it? (file removed on request) [ update: I'm not being negative, and I'm not putting it down. I appreciate any effort people make to express their interests and passions. If you look at the things I've been up to over the last 15 years, that would be obvious. I'm a fan. I've done a bit of worshipping in my day. Just saying I'm not getting this particular thing, and trying to understand it.]
Something I read somewhere: "The only thing that didn't come from a cow was the -- real, mind you -- feather boa draped artistically over his shoulders. He used to believe in the 'entrance' the way most people think they believe in God." Made me grin, thassal.
And there's a new version of Movable Type out. With MySQL support, and 'TrackBack' which makes me go 'HUH?', but that's just my state of mind right now.
Via Milov: The knockoff*project, a site listing album cover imitations.
Let's WARCHALK!, everybody's blogged this, I'm sure, but I just have to say I love the idea of it and it makes me wish I had a laptop with a proper card, etc. (I have an iBook SE, I'd have to buy an airport card at 140 Euro.) De Waag on Nieuwmarkt has set up a WAN, and with me being unemployed and all that it would be quite fun to hang around with all the regular junkies on Nieuwmarkt, bottle of beer in one hand and surfing the net with the other. Or maybe not.
Tell him something you've never admitted to anyone else before.
The funny thing about break ups is, eventhough you may have disliked your partner thoroughly, when they eventually dump you, you still feel sick. And you still want to slap them when they smile and say they're sorry.
For those of you who volunteered for Whedonesque (now with slick teaser!) duty, an update: I was so frustrated last night I went and designed and coded the site and wrote a large part of the 'about' content, which took from 7pm till 5am. The back end programming is up to someone else. So... progress has been made.
I've only one domain left with Verisign/NetSol and have been wholly succesful in transferring the rest to Pairnic. This resource may help others who want to do the same.
scotsman.com: "Musicians have larger and more sensitive brains than their non-musical audiences, researchers have found." (Cue hysterical laughter.) So that must be relative to their ego, their insecurity, their self-centredness and their vanity? (Miaow) Anyway, the BBC has a better article on the same subject: Repeated flexing of the brain by practising a musical instrument could account for the extra grey matter in the auditory cortex. Yes, and repeated wanking could account for blindness. [all MeFi, all the time]
You know, it's funny when people praise you for showing up at work when you've just been laid off (officially per July 15th). It's fully expected that you stay at home and mope and be spiteful. But hey, I've got this weird sense of work ethic. Call me old fashioned. Or dumb.
... and there we go. I just lost my job. Not sure whether to 'yay' or 'nay'. [ Oh... I've just been told I need to say 'my position was made redundant'. You know... in a 'think positive' way. ]
Be careful what you wish for.
Working on this...
My DVD of BtVS 'Once more with feeling' (the musical) arrived. It was sent out with Variety in order to plug the epi for an Emmy, and of course, copies found their way unto Ebay. I got mine for 50 dollars, it looks good, the sound is good (the dialogue was unintelligible on the video I was sent from USA), my player obviously has no problems with region 1 discs. All in all, I'm pleased. It's widescreen too. All I need now is a wider tv.
Still elemental, my dear Watson: Pr
I wanted to plug this one again. Music for Elevators (uk) by George Sarah and Anthony Stewart Head. I initially dismissed it, musically and lyrically ("derivative and twee"), but I keep coming back to it. I cannot for the life of me figure out whether this is me glossing over faults because I like the actor so much, or whether his songs really merit attention. I think the CD could have been cut down to 10 or 11 songs, and it could do without the silly dead air and secret tracks. (I think a proper producer could have done some good.) But there are three tracks here that are just gorgeous: Babies, This Town in the Rain and Last Time. There are samples on both of the links provided... but what the fuck why don't you listen to them here (my own mp3 streamer).
Following up on Hg's post on Marcel Möring, here's an interview with the man on his UK publisher's website: 'Family, I think, is the only concept of belonging that makes any sense. I’ve always thought the notion of a personal national identity slightly ridiculous. I was born in The Netherlands, close to the German border. Five miles to the east and I would have been German. Five miles to the west and a lot of Germans would’ve been Dutch. I can become an Englishman [..], or an American [..], but I can never be part of a certain family other than my own.'
I did, I did see Sakaama in Bern on Saturday, where we had a spot of dinner before going off to Almere. I wasn't at his table, though, otherwise I certainly would have said something - I'm shy, but not THAT shy. I was at the bar, with a friend. Anyway, that's a first for me, I think, spotting a weblogger in the wild by chance.
"Jesus broke his arm," she says, clutching the crucifix like a popsicle. The plastic figure's limb has come loose from the body and hangs sickly from a nail on the cross bar.
The little girl, all pre-Raphaelite features and messy blonde curls, has shown me her latest games. Hoola hoop. She wants me to try it but I say I'm too old.
I am. Too old to learn about kids.
"Jesus broke his willie!" she shouts. I feign horror.
This little one likes me, draws me pictures, and holds Jesus in front of me. "Do you want Jesus on your head," she says, and I break up laughing. "No, thanks," I say, "I have him in my heart." A great big lie. I'll burn in hell for it.
Her mother puts her to bed, but she returns to the living room a few times, clutching more and more stuffed animals to her chest. Finally, she picks up the crucifix.
"French people... French people pray like this," she says, going down on one knee, her hands devoutly clasped together. Her mother explains about God, Allah, Buddha, different ways to pray and it's way past bed time. She takes it all in.
Later, we hear her talking in her bedroom. She's putting her treasures to bed.
"Don't worry, Jesus," she says, "I'll get those nails out for you."
I seem to be running out of words.
I thought tonight's blog entry would be fairly straightforward: "rewarding day at work. New sex toys outperformed expectations in first bathtub test..." Future blogging, captured in humongous cartoon: delta thrives | set the controls for the heart of the sun. Looks pretty, but.... HUH? (via mailing list)
I haven't tried counting sheep. In fact I haven't really tried anything yet. I'm suffering from severe insomnia and probably should follow up some of these tips.
... and a whore. TV maker Joss Whedon has 'issues'.
Did a simple redesign of Tumbuan.com today and added a better forum.
Terribly missed from MSIE 6 is 'open frame in new window', in the right click menu. I know it was an add on in MSIE 5, powertools, or something like that, but I can't find it for MSIE 6. Help?
My interest in spy novels rekindled by the BBC's (admittedly weak) 'Spooks' series, I stumble upon the official John Le Carré site. They don't seem to update much. Interesting to see the handwritten manuscript... who can make sense of that?!
Via Lia this Jeremy Irons site. Not a big into him at all... but the Brideshead pictures made me a happy little fan girl.
I think I saw Sakaama in Cafe Bern today. Then again, I could be wrong, I'm only going by that little picture on his blog.
We weathered the rain, sat our bums on wet wooden seats and watched theatre group DOX perform 'Poldergasten' in the action packed city of Almere. Think "Westside Story"-with-a-twist set in newly reclaimed multicultural nether land. Highly recommended. Will also show at the 'Over het IJ festival' here in Amsterdam, July 23-27. I'm very likely to go see it again. Merel... good job, girl! (She's got some pictures on her blog.)
Not available in any shops... Billy MacKenzie 'From Warsaw to Rome', a compilation for two, by Mr Hg. This compilation covers a range of styles, from all out histrionic piano and voice ballad to hi-energy dance, a few covers (Randy Newman's Baltimore, Billy Holiday's God Bless the Child). To think this man was happiest raising whippets seems very strange, I wonder what other emotions he had left once he'd poured it all into this music.
I'm happy for my friend (domain currently in transfer) for graduating. She did some very impressive photography/photoshop work for her graduation from the Royal Academy of Art and hopefully her website will have things to show soon. Walking around the rest of the graduates' work it struck me how it was all colour photography, that hyper colour faux 70s look. I hope we'll have a full on 80s revival in photography soon.
Did I say I was off to The Hague? Well, I was... and I missed my stop, and ended up in Rotterdam. Once I got back to The Hague, with only two hours to spare until the end of the exhibition I was aiming to see, I was given wrong directions by a taxi driver and walked around like a headless chicken, hating all and everything including the sun, the moon, the stars and every human being on the planet. With only a few hours of sleep last night, my legs didn't seem to want to do a lot for me and anger and frustration and something close to violent rage seemed to have occupied the space where my gut was before. This week has seen me wishing I had a beautiful elsewhere to be.
Sifry's Alerts: A great new use of the Google API and SOAP. This is something I'm bookmarking for future reference. And now I'm off to The Hague. Taraaa. (Missed the bloody game this morning. Sleeping. I was supporting Brasil for some strange reason. Now I'm not happy they won.)
Foot in mouth? Not bloody likely. (my comments on this post) ... and this? Sorry, but that is just so wrong. Birkenstocks need to be eradicated from the planet. I spent a few days surrounded by them in a hostel on Achill Island and I felt seriously threatened. Or perhaps it was the Germans inhabiting them. Not that I have anything against Germans (some of my best friends...), but in Birckenstocks any nationality is the antichrist.
Lexus.com pimps Spielberg's Minority Report. Precrime: someone is trying to frame you for a future murder... (link got sent around at work, don't know who it was pilfered from)
I've always hated house metaphors on the web. But mc.clintock.com is just... a house. How the mundane can become compelling. (great link from MF)
Outside, nearing 10pm, the sky has suddenly darkened. The setting sun colours the houses opposite blood red. Right in front of me, a rainbow formed, fading as I write. Rain, surely, is imminent. And there it is then, that smile. There is beauty in just about everything.
Strange and offputting spam of the day: 'Are you pleased with your smile?' Which one would that be?
So far, that one line in this (slightly spoilery BtVSV) Ain't It Cool News article (you'll figure out which one) has been the only good thing this sorry day.
Seeing red, at SportsFilter.
It's summer. I'm sitting here, coding in the office. The air is dense. I resent the sun this year. It should be winter. Cold, damp, dark.
If that Sunday 29th booking wasn't "subject to filming commitments", I would be running, nay, flying to the The Bath Jane Austen Festival 2002.
Simon Schama answers questions: If you could make one journey backwards in time, without the possibility of coming back, where would you go? Amsterdam, 1660. The best bread; the best pictures; the most stunning streetscapes in the world; the most musical pubs; the glossiest dogs; the most dazzling women, the most arrogant men; no kings, no wars (for the time being), no bishops; Jews, books, harpsichords galore and... somewhere, Rembrandt van Rijn.
I really wonder why Andrea gets all the press when it's obviously Caroline Corr who's the prettiest and doesn't look like a friggin' panda.
So... I'm reading DVD reviews and an American customer is complaining about the price of the Season 2 Buffy DVDs. Cause 50 dollars, whoa, that's about € 55! Shocking. Hello? They're € 122.99 over here. Which is why I ordered them (from Canada) at € 51, no shipping costs. Anyone want to buy my videos for Season 1 and 2?
The next adult to state someone is 'nummy' is going to get a box in the head. Stop the baby talk. Please.
I need a couple of dedicated Buffy/Angel/Joss Whedon fans who are web(log) savvy. Apply within.
The end of free. The Irish Times goes subscription only for 'premium content'. Bugger.
What I'm thinking right now: ...all I can do, is wait until the next time... (mp3, 2.3mb)
Retrospective Catalogue of Paintings: great resource of the works of Irish painter Louis le Brocquy. Check out the 'The Individual'... great heads. Self-questioning is part of any honest painter's characteristic. I must doubt always, even at this stage.
'Remembering the moments the instant before the camera saw them and as I smile at all the times we shared, I'm reminded of all the in between, Christ, how I miss you'
It took me three hours to get from A. to L. to see the 'rents today. Courtesy of Dutch rail.
Firefly poster. Click the image to download a pdf version.
It's Bloomsday. Here's a Joycean gift for you. An mp3 of the 1920's song Fatal Flower Garden, a 13th century version of which appears in Ulysses as 'The Jew's Daughter':
This Little Harry Hughes and his schoolfellows all
Went out for to play ball
And the very first ball little Harry Hughes played
He drove it o'er the jew's garden wall.
And the very second ball little Harry Hughes played
He broke the jew's windows all.
Then out there came the jew's daughter
And she all dressed in green.
`Come back, come back, you pretty little boy,
And play your ball again.'
`I can't come back and I won't come back
Without my schoolfellows all,
For if my master he did hear
He'd make it a sorry ball.'
She took him by the lilywhite hand
And led him along the hall
Until she led him to a room
Where none could hear him call.
She took a penknife out of her pocket
And cut off his little head,
And now he'll play his ball no more
For he lies among the dead.
The pervert and his angels hide amongst the stars and watch - And as we blow ourselves to bits the angels pump their cocks - Their semen flows across the sky and forms new milky wheys - And somewhere in some galaxy in less than seven days - They make a planet more curvaceous and much sexier than ours - Full of bigger sinners - More worthy of voyeurs. 'Tender Pervert' is the only Momus album I own (and hadn't played since 1990, when I bought it). My head hurts and I have no comments other than, hey, cool, Momus actively participates in his own usenet group. Oh, and Bishonen is fab.
Hivelogic URL Cleaner... 'cause you want to stay valid.
It was about time I got some Microdisney, just to have some idea of the great Mr Coughlan's musical past. 'Big Sleeping House' is a collection of 'Microdisney's Finest Moments'. It reminds me of the Beautiful South (ugh) and lacks all the bite and oomph of Coughlan's later incarnations.
Fischerspooner are from New York, but Amazon.com doesn't carry their CD. I got it from their English cousins, just before I realised #1 is not the most riveting album this year. Plus, it's got the most obnoxious sleeve, the last thing I want to see is trendy young people's glistening body parts. Anyway. Prefer Futurism, Felix, Ladytron, etc.
Just in: this pretty thing for on the wall. Alternative BtVS drinking game: A drink for every time you spot a clear shot of Giles' right hand (it's in his pocket on this picture). You'll get very thirsty. Ask me why.
Moments I burst out laughing during Attack of the Clones: Shmi's death scene (I had to bite my jacket to stop), Anakin and Padme's Hills are Alive scene, in fact EVERY dreadful scene they had together, Yoda going all Kato, the unsubtle shot of Anakin's Darth Vader shadow on that desert igloo thing, the schmalzy orchestra halting mid-sweep when the kids stop their kissing (can John Williams just pop off and die somewhere, please). December, folks... The Two Towers. And also.
I didn't pick one up, but there were free Boomerang postcards for Father's Day on a rack in the cinema last night, featuring an image of a tie clip that said 'Mother Fucker'.
O'Reilly Network: What We're Doing When We Blog [Jun. 13, 2002]: Freed from the constraints of the printed page (or any concept of "page"), an author can now blog a short thought that previously would have gone unwritten. The weblog's post unit liberates the writer from word count. Meg dissects 'weblog' for the masses, and does it well.
Went to see Attack of the Hormones Clones. Here's my review. The acting: muwahahahahaha. The music: muwahahahahaha. Yoda: muwahahahaha. The story: huh?
I took a trip on a Gemini spacecraft
and thought about you
I passed through the shadow of Jupiter
and I thought about you
I shot my space gun,
boy, I really felt blue.
Buffista filk. Check 'literature' for Huckleberry Angel, Bronte Buffy and lots more: Out, damned spot! Out, I say! One – two – why then 'tis time to do't. Hell is murky. Fie, my sister, fie! A Slayer, and afeard? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our power to account? Yet who would have thought the Assistant Mayor to have had so much blood in him?
Obladi, oblada, lovely filk.
I have two RSS feeds. Didn't know what the hell to use them for, but now they seem to be handy to check for updates, so... here's one for this column. And here's one for the main part of the site that hardly ever gets updated. I changed their location and name, for those of you already using them. Feedreader's a nifty app for checking rss feeds.
This is pretty: Pagedown: Develop thru collaboration, an experimental pdf magazine. Big 'I didn't know you could do that' moment... scroll down to find Movable Type powered blog IN pdf page. [ via Lia]
Been offered an Amazon.com Gold Box yet? What's the best thing you found in there? Most of that stuff can't even be shipped outside America, so it's completely useless to me. I did hesitate when they offered me a Baskin-Robbins Ice Cream Scoop'.
Mission Impossible, the late 60's TV version was probably the first (non kiddy) series I followed. It was on way past my bedtime (I must have been 6 or 7), but when my dad wasn't home mum would let me stay up and watch this. Martin Landau was my favourite - Juliette Landau's father. (Drusilla...) One thing I always asked myself was why did the black guy have to crawl up elevator and ventilator shafts all the time. That was about the only thing he seemed to do. I remember being on holiday in Sweden when I was 10 and asking my cousin Calvin about this standing outside an old fashioned open cage elevator in a hotel. My English was still sketchy then, so I asked what the story was with the 'negro in the elevator shafts'. He chided me for that, eventhough I was his senior, and taught me to say 'black'.
The Times, Spiderman review: In the male world, Barbie would surely have been transformed into a fine cinematic super-villain by now ("Ha ha. See how I taunt you into bulimic behaviour with my two-centimetre waist and permanent tippy-toes stance").
Word: Fanwanking = Trying to fill-in-the-blanks of the story to suit your needs, coming up with a scenario for what you think happened offscreen during a particular time on the show.
... it's driving me NUTS.
"Well, put your foot down!"
sneers: It's a major Hollywood production, hundreds of people are involved, there's no way.
"Oh." // feels stupid //
Quote read today: "People seem to mistake belief in God for actually *liking* him."
Word: languid. Its dictionary definition seems mostly negative. But surely it can have positive connotations? Slow can be good. Surely writing can be languidly paced? You can spend a languid afternoon in the autumn sun? Help me out here, native speakers!
Lurky McDemon: It's canon, alright? Blame the doof with the stupid hair for that.
'Ten ballads for the tits, bums and mickeys of the Beverly Pills'. Bought Kid Loco: Kill Your Darlings [EXPLICIT LYRICS], encouraged by their cover of If it's Monday Morning on Total Lee! Is this supposed to be 'lounge'? A less airy Air? It's got actual singing and actual songs. Is this like St Etienne? (I've never heard St Etienne.) I love this depraved, underbelly type of thing. 'Once the devil came into my kitchen, and with a knife and fork, he ate my chicken.' The official site offers more paroles, and samples. Second half of album fizzles out a bit.
So I'm off to dedicate my life
to the death of rock n roll
no-one gets their money back
and I just keep my soul
Just read about an interesting conversation between an actor and a fan, re: 'fanfic'. Fan asks whether actor reads fanfic featuring his characters. Actor replies 'No, it's disturbing to see one's sexual exploits in print.' (... um, he must have read at least some of it then) When reminded they are not HIS exploits, he replies: 'No, but they're housed in my body.' (... cue interesting discussion on acting and personalities. Any actors among my readers?) Now, I appreciate how it's probably pretty disturbing, but then maybe 'acting' is pretty disturbing too. You're out there portraying some demented writer's fantasy, you're asked to say things you wouldn't say, do things you wouldn't do, with people you wouldn't want to know, in front of a crew who don't care and a director who's off his trolley. And if you're doing bed scenes, you're probably asked to, 'perk up those nips a bit, dahling.' Not sure where I'm going with this train of thought... the only difference between fanfic and canon is that the former only gets acted out in people's fantasies. And there's bad writing in both.
I like the understated ambition of this site: Max Dupain & Associates. (via Australian Infront)
My neck hurts from reading sideways, but that's one hell of a lovely way to present a portfolio at RICKYMOLLOY.COM. I'm not keen on the photography itself, I think I've mentioned this before. This late 90s, ultra real, use flash for everything, 70s porn set, let's make it fugly photography. It's not sexy, people. I do like some of the portraits. (yanked from ComputerLove.net)
Two pretty designer sites: Muked.com and Dizainer.com.
Just bought on eBay: Buffy DVD "Once more, with feeling" musical, as sent out with Variety to pimp the episode for an Emmy award. The price? 50 dollars. The first few on eBay went for thrice that amount and more.
Blogging this for future reference: Solsbury Hill. Good Peter Gabriel resource, unfortunate background image. People... why make your well written words illegible?
My match with mike: "you are 76% similar, you are 89% complementary."
How Compatible are You with Me?
The Web Standards Project. White is the new orange.
Ten years after 'So' Peter Gabriel's new album 'Up is finally done. 'Only three lunar cycles to go until the planned release'. It's been such a long wait, it can only be disappointing. (I'm a glass-half-empty person). If you sign up, you can watch previews, introduced by Gabriel himself. So far, the previews sound promising. Songs about childhood and death, he says. The one I'm listening to now, 'Darkness' (or 'House in the Woods'), a song about fear, sounds rather like vintage Genesis. He also confesses he uses Google to write lyrics when he gets stuck... just typing in odd words and seeing what comes back. He gives one example of a search for the words 'connected' and 'poetry', which pointed him to story about a psychic woman who the British government feared would give away the date of D-Day.