i find this phenomenally interesting:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rat_Park

it appears to be a debate trapped within binary frames of reference, but it seems that as slightly less extreme, complementary fields of inquiry these two models could proffer a much improved, refined, sensible drug policy. of course, democratic populism suggests this will never happen. fucking addicts and such.

from a just published survey of general US living standards:

In 1970, 85% of university entrants thought abortion should be legalised, 59% thought capital punishment should be abolished and 57% aimed to keep up with political affairs. By 2005, those figures had fallen to 55% in favour of legalised abortion, 33% against capital punishment, and 36% who aimed to follow politics.

And while in 1970, 79% of university entrants said they had a personal objective of "developing a meaningful philosophy of life", by last year 75% defined their objective as "being very well off financially".

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oh, oh, this is sublime. from a news report in miami entitled '3 Million Bees Removed From Kitchen Of Couple's Apartment':

Molina said the bees were there for at least two and a half years. The couple finally had enough and called in the professionals.

"So we're trying to, like, get rid of most of them, but without professional help we can't. So now we almost .. They're biting me!'" Molina screamed, running from the home during an interview with reporters.

Beekeepers removed more than 3 million bees from the apartment. They also extracted nearly 60 pounds of honey.

Beekeepers said the insects got in through a small hole and built a home in the kitchen cabinet.

that has got be one of the best recorded quotes i have ever seen

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anybody else getting the vague sensation that this job isn't really all that strenuous?

looking back at the blisteringly despicable way that the australian government went about, and continues to go about shafting our homosexual community, i draw great succour (and a smidgen of national embarrassment) over the way in which britain gace full recognition to civil unions last year. even beyond the less than controversial atmosphere in which the laws apparently passed, you've only got to look at the way in which the sun, one of the more conservative, arch-reactionary tabloids you could ever hope to read, lauded the union of elton john and david furnish to realise that for the vast majority of people this really, really isn't an issue. i'd like to think that it's the same in australia and that we're just in the grip of a conservative reign of terror dictated by one of the more despicable politicians of recent memory but... i don't know. sometimes we seem rather staid and insular.

given that the inquiry into diana's death has finally reached it's no fault verdict a solid 9 years after her death, i feel it's about time to revisit those heady days of lady di jokes. to wit:

what was the last thing to go through diana's mind before she died?





her spine.

*pause for laughter*

direct all hate mail to my home address

any person who claims that watching the sun rise is an unreserved privilege has obviously never spent sufficient amounts of time at a latitude where the average wintertime sunrise occurs two hours after one arrives at their office job. it really gives you the opportunity to reflect on exactly how insultingly early this desperate pursuit of money has required you to flee your lovely warm bed

everyone's about the seasonal affective disorder over here. i'm a big fan, but mainly because the acronym is 'SAD'. great moments in medicine right there.

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brilliance from martin amis' money, whilst discussing the british diet: 'you know how they say the french live to eat? well, we eat to die'.

i'm so jumping on the healthy eating bandwagon when i come home. i'll eat nothing but celery for weeks. and i won't deep fry it either.

so, i'm working with a guy who hails from the fair lands of yorkshire and he's more than willing to admit that people are ever so slightly backward there. as stephen k amos put it: in yorkshire people still point at the moon. he told me a story today to illustrate this point somewhat. i really feel it bears repeating.

there's a small town somewhere in deep country yorkshire. this is real small town sort of stuff, everyone knows everyone and their major cultural festival involves the town coming together and showing off their cuckoos. that's not code for penis, they just show off small metal cuckoos. so, we have context. now, in good country fashion, we find one of the more esteemed members of the community (it's probably fair to assume he had at least some role on the town council) having sex with a horse in his backyard. horses genitals usually being located well above human genitals, the canny fellow had busted out a stool to give himself extra leverage. but being a shade over 50, the exertion and awkward positioning combined to throw his back out. rather embarrassing really. so disabled was he that he had to call an ambulance in, an affair that obviously attracted the curiosity of the townsfolk who assembled expectantly out the front of the house. we can presume that the silence may have been hushed. so, out comes the man, prone on a stretcher, into the expectant and judgmental view of the audience. not missing a beat, and obviously spotting an opportunity for light humour, the man calls out what must be one of the better ripostes of recent years: 'next time i'm going to stick to cats'.

at which point everyone started cheering.


i think i may raise my children in the city.

ah, english wank. i've missed you and your deliberate obfuscations. my thesis proposal.

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While travelling over the past year I have found myself increasingly intrigued by the individuated imagistic regimes that have accompanied the seemingly untrammelled proliferation of digital cameras. What interests me most about this phenomenon is the way in which people appear increasingly to be travelling not with, but via their cameras, absorbing the sights and places of touristic foreignness first through the semiotically refractive LCD screen of their camera and then through the inevitable plethora of caught instants that come with it. It seems as if the ubiquity and disposable nature of these digitised images is structuring a shift in the way we describe and understand experience by establishing both an optical prosthetic and, through the gradual erasure of forgetting that this arguably causes, a prosthetics of memory. In my thesis I would like to explore this idea as it relates to touristic praxis and the concomitant generation of a sense of difference, with particular regard to the significance this multiplicity of images has in terms of structuring our ideas of foreign spaces, both geographic and perceptual, and the accrual and importance of personal experience and cultural capital. In a more specific sense though, the question my thesis seeks to address is: in a world already saturated with the immediate and myriad transportative possibilities proffered by the images of cinema, television and the internet, do these cameras signify the individual's reclamation of visual experience or, rather, do they simply further obscure the already over-represented spaces and artefacts that they purport to convey? I hope you will consider my proposal.

a couple of days ago i found myself in that strange half waking, half asleep phase you often get a little while before you wake up properly, when it's a bit hard to differentiate between your dreams and the actual reality of the situation. amidst all the bizarre thoughts and images sifting through my head i came up with a line that made me laugh out loud, to the extent that i thought to myself 'i can't possibly let this comedic gem go. oh yes. this is too good'. with my eyes still partially closed, i typed it into my phone and saved it as a draft. whereupon i went back to sleep and completely forgot about it. until last night. so what was the snatch of genius that i just couldn't bear to lose? what was it that would reconfigure comedy forever?

'my car starting sounds like my grandfather rolling on acid'

my brain occasionally takes me to interesting places

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i was watching what not to wear a couple of nights ago (oh god, the shame, the SHAME! and now that trinny and susannah have moved on to relationship counselling (in a show that's even more reprehensible than this) they've been replaced by a slightly plump black woman with questionable fashion sense and a blonde topped skeletor who seems like the kind of 'friend' you wouldn't invite when you went to the pub) and the episode was themed around atrociously attired mothers of the bride and how a lapse on their part could, as one of them put it, ruin the lives of their children. besides filling me with a righteous and vitriolic rage, the episode also left me with two thoughts:

1. if they get to the slightly more presentable end product and the relevant secondary parties (in this case the brides) disapprove, do they have to scrap the whole episode? or do they just make them act pleased at gunpoint? and;

2. i would sell my soul to see them dress somebody up as a minstrel.

and you could probably come up with a third thought to add to this:

3. why am i watching this filth when i could actually be reading?

television is a hypnotic bitch goddess. before i got out of there on saturday night it had me crying during a doco about the galapagos as people in a helicopter gunned down goats to melancholic music. and the goats were evil too. i think i might be one of those easily manipulated types...

 

this collection of comments exhausts me. from our prime minister:

"IMMIGRANTS, NOT AUSTRALIANS, MUST ADAPT. Take It Or Leave It. I am tired of this nation worrying about whether we are offending some individual or their culture. Since the terrorist attacks on Bali, we have experienced a surge in patriotism by the majority of Australians." "However, the dust from the attacks had barely settled when the 'politically correct' crowd began complaining about the possibility that our patriotism was offending others. I am not against immigration, nor do I hold a grudge against anyone who is seeking a better life by coming to Australia." "However, there are a few things that those who have recently come to our country, and apparently some born here, need to understand. This idea of Australia being a multicultural community has served only to dilute our sovereignty and our national identity. As Australians, we have our own culture, our own society, our own language and our own lifestyle." "This culture has been developed over two centuries of struggles, trials and victories by millions of men and women who have sought freedom" "We speak mainly ENGLISH, not Spanish, Lebanese, Arabic, Chinese, Japanese, Russian, or any other language. Therefore, if you wish to become part of our society, Learn the language!" "Most Australians believe in God. This is not some Christian, right wing, political push, but a fact, because Christian men and women, on Christian principles, founded this nation, and this is clearly documented. It is certainly appropriate to display it on the walls of our schools. If God offends you, then I suggest you consider another part of the world as your new home, because God is part of our culture." "We will accept your beliefs, and will not question why. All we ask is that you accept ours, and live in harmony and peaceful enjoyment with us." "If the Southern Cross offends you, or you don't like " A Fair Go", then you should seriously consider a move to another part of this planet. We are happy with our culture and have no desire to change, and we really don't care how you did things where you came from. By all means, keep your culture, but do not force it on others."This is OUR COUNTRY, OUR LAND, and OUR LIFESTYLE, and we will allow you every opportunity to enjoy all this. But once you are done complaining, whining, and griping about Our Flag, Our Pledge, Our Christian beliefs, or Our Way of Life, I highly encourage you take advantage of one other great Australian freedom, 'THE RIGHT TO LEAVE.'" "If you aren't happy here then LEAVE. We didn't force you to come here. You asked to be here. So accept the country YOU accepted."

 

i feel ever so slightly ill...

there's no such thing as an entirely clear day in brighton. on a day like today, when the last shards of summer drip from an empty sky and coat the street in a lazy sunday sheen, you notice how the contrails of passing planes pattern the sky in blooming whiteness; a ceaseless cycle of rupture, expansion and dissipation. it's beautiful, but unnerving, almost as if the sky was falling open.