readongentle

It's been raining most of the afternoon, stayed inside reading 'Homicide' by David Simon, walked up to the dairy in the mist, thought about 'Every Rose Has Its Thorn' by Poison. Went to St Lukes shopping earlier, helped a woman lift her 20 kilogram daughter out of her shopping trolley (she told me the girl weighed 20 kg). This girl didn't want to come to me, I could see that, but she did with this docile sort of disdain, she seemed a bit drugged, or lobotomised. But beautiful.

I'm reading Paul Theroux's 'The Happy Isles of Oceania'. All the descriptions of the things I know about -- New Zealand, Fijian Indians, Australia -- seem wrong, or at best, an exaggeration of a small part of something so that it takes over the whole; and sometimes, they just feel totally off base; but even so, I find myself believing everything he says about the places I haven't been, like Papua New Guinea or the Solomon Islands.

He mentioned Bligh's trip between Fijian islands after the mutiny, in a small open yacht. I just saw a movie about the mutiny on The Bounty on TV. It was so unbelievably bad. I'm totally fascinated by the story of the mutiny -- and it's an insane story, the final core of seven male mutineers and Tahitians on Pitcairn Island murdered each other within a few years until there was only one man, several women and some children left, etc* -- but the movie was dire. It was like, super realistic in some ways (showing fights below decks, SOME of the class divisions, hundreds of bare-breasted Tahitians) but painfully corny in others (Blue Lagoon style kissing scenes, swashbuckling Mel Gibson, etc) ... the whole thing just started to seem nerve-wrackingly embarrassing.



*Though of course by singling out this detail I don't mean to imply the mutineers were ridiculous.

The internet should be accessible using a pentium one with hardly any ram (I don't know much about ram), or maybe even a 386 or 486. Everything should be text. Images are ugly and messy. If people want pictures, they can have things made of simple lines or dots. It would be aesthetically and psychologically more appealing. There should at least be an alternate internet for people who don't like Java and image files.

I was in the library this morning and I had to look at a map. I couldn't find one so I went to the reference desk. I stood there for about one minute, but there was no-one behind the desk, so I turned and walked away towards the front counter. Then I heard heavy, running footsteps behind me and 'Excuse me! Excuse me!' The librarian who never acknowledges that we've talked was standing behind me, panting, and he pointed and said, 'There's someone at the reference desk now'. He's a little bit roly-poly, so he looked kind of dishevelled from the short run.

When I got back to the reference desk, the woman who served me said 'I was wondering why Alex was pounding on the wall of the [glass] elevator and pointing as he came down'.

So!! Alex! Not so indifferent, then?

Cash Nexus: the reduction (under capitalism ) of all human relationships, but especially relations of production, to monetary exchange

-- > Facebook -- though it goes maybe a bit beyond that! Facebook is something in itself!!

It's 28 degrees centigrade

I photocopied a whole lot of woodcuts out of an old survey of the form today in Takapuna Library. The librarian who I complained to a few weeks ago about being charged for a video I 'had returned' (of course, I hadn't, I immediately found out when got home) always pretends he doesn't remember who I am. But today when I was muttering to myself over the photocopier I turned around and totally caught him staring at me. And he blushed. Ha ha ha ha. He remembers me. How could he not? I 'discussed' this video with him for about 25 minutes. Stop pretending you don't remember me! Every time I go up to give him money for my photocopying card, or pick up a book I've reserved, he tries to act completely blank, even though I give him this big 'hello', etc. We spent twenty-five minutes talking to each other, friend. Is it REALLY POSSIBLE that some people's lives are so full and interesting they DON'T remember who they talked to for twenty-five minutes several weeks ago? I can't imagine this.

Boys with anemia
Girls with the croup
Children with chicken pox
This is my group


ON THE CONGA LINE

They Might Be Giants
Think compulsory fun
Is how to love everyone
It's bullying; they're tyrants

This is an interesting idea*:
"There’s no such thing as a good song; otherwise any one could do You Really got Me and it would sound great, whereas The Kinks can’t even do You really Got Me anymore, because they’ve lost the sound." (Billy Childish).

I find it appealing that Billy Childish says he doesn't really care about music that much.

I just read a Lionel Shriver book -- something about a brother-sister-brother sort of love triangle sort of thing. Her 'I am not PC' angle is very boring, but the book was good.

(*Or, a generalization that doesn't stand up to scrutiny, possibly)

"But maybe at this crucial hour of need, when serious doubt in the long-term impact of my actions as a police officer surfaced, St. Michael, the patron saint of protectors saw to it to remind me that if not me, then who?"

http://www.catatonics.org/?q=node/24

Girl just close your eyes
And picture me playing your Spanish guitar
Baby where we going, there are no such thing as a bad note (bad note)
If I could I would, stroke your body like I do my keyboard

...
do you mind if I do some nasty things for one minute? ...

Well, when you put it so adroitly ...

I heard some Kanye West after I heard that (above) song by 'T-Pain'; the lyrics were 'clever' and I wondered whether it's not maybe racist to laugh at bad slow-jam.

I desperately want to change the name of my livejournal diary. I used to think 'entrenous' was a clever name, and I was thinking of maybe using 'nousvoici' or 'encoreseuls' (here we are/alone again, the first line from 'Journey to the End of the Night') but then I realized it might be a BIT pretentious to call your diary something French when it's practically the only French you know. I mean okay, some might say French is inherently pretentious but in another sense, it's only words, but as I say, if those are the only words you know, then ... etc.

(So then I thought maybe I could try to use 'bad French' like 'les diary cest Maryann' but that's too long.)

I thought 'Jane was Eyre' might be a funny name -- if your name was Jane. I suppose I should try to incorporate 'Maryann' into my livejournal name -- because that's kind of 'functional' and appropriate -- but I can't think of any clever way to do that. Like, I thought of 'Shaky Hand' (from the song 'Maryann with the ...' by The Who) but that's too urgh. I guess I can't think of anything. The problem is that all the really plain names like 'Maryann' or 'My diary', obviously, you can't use those.

Why do people complain about blogs? It's so dull reading other people's writing, much better to write one's own. Perhaps that's based on reading too much Augusten Burroughs. Bla me bla I bla me me I I edited this so it would be easy to read, so that you'd read more I I I.

The neighbours had a fight yesterday. Bliss! Instead of looking like the perfect family -- two blonde attractive parents, both younger than me, in their big Devonport house ($600 000?) with their three healthy blonde boys who scream and kick balls all afternoon, they had a fight. When they noticed they were being noticed having their fight, they looked a bit glum. It was like a surprise party!

'In a Big Country' was on the radio this afternoon. That's one of the reasons why radio is so much better than records. Some other reasons:
1 -- sound quality. Sounds like the band is flat as a piece of paper. So it's more like reading a book. That's just some rubbish that's supposed to make this blog seem cleverer. In fact, it doesn't sound like reading a book. It sounds nostalgic, the sound of yesteryear, though.
2 -- DJs. They say really funny things! And they call themselves 'Woodsie'. They're sexist, too. Once a DJ said he'd 'kick Bridget Jones to touch' if she was his girlfriend, because she was too needy. They sound very lonely and gravelly and alcoholic, in their little 'studios'. One of the classic male situations. It's a tragic situation, yet also hilariously funny.
3 -- radio is free. It's sort of like wearing rags. It feels less decadent than listening to records.

This is a new song I made up

Ooh ooh beatles, why are you so bad
Why don't you keep your day job
By the way, I never bought any of your records
oooh oooh ooh aaah aaah

I've been trying to think of things to look at on the internet and I honestly can't think of anything, I refuse to look up Donovan, so I'm writing on this stupid thing. But I don't have anything to write about so bla bla bla bla

You're gonna get hurt, hurt hurt hurt
You're gonna get hur ur ur ur urt
You're gonna get hurt, hurt hurt hurt
Little Town Flirt

This is my version of a song on the radio right now

little sammy jew
i'm a boy i'm a boy i'm a boy
oooohoooh oooh ooooh ooohoooh ooh oooh aaah aaaaah aaah
i wont play cricket on the green
let me poker a machine
there is something in blood
i wanna come home from building blood
i'm a boy, etc

That's by 'The Who'. 'The Hur'.

Buy two wee speakers small enough to fit in the palm of your hand and for a limited time receive

This is my PRIVATE DIARY so BUZZ OFF.

[S. this is the book I was talking about]:

I am enjoying this book:

http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/tg/detail/-/1841154911/qid=1112166998/sr=8-2/ref=sr_8_xs_ap_i2_xgl14/102-9484864-5664946?v=glance&s=books&n=507846

Who Killed Roger Ackroyd?: The Murderer Who Eluded Hercule Poirot and Deceived Agatha Christie
by Pierre Bayard

"The Murder of Roger Ackroyd, published in 1926, was only Agatha Christie's fourth book, yet it already revealed her as an innovator and a prankster. Featuring a recently retired Hercule Poirot, the novel is narrated by James Sheppard ... in a shocking and ingenious twist that has perplexed and angered readers ever since, Poirot eventually identifies Dr. Sheppard himself as the killer ...

"In Who Killed Roger Ackroyd?, a genuinely gripping piece of literary detective work, Pierre Bayard, a psychoanalyst and professor of literature, challenges Poirot's deductions and firmly rejects his shocking solution. Along the way, he explains how mystery novels work narratively and deliberately to conceal the truth from the reader. " bla bla bla

This is a bit of Camus-like writing, that I liked, that Bayard quotes from 'Roger Ackroyd':

OH actually I can't be bothered to type it out, I wish they had it on Project Gutenberg. Hey I wish I had a copy of 'Roger Ackroyd'. Bayard's book was originally in French. I wonder whether the translator also translated Christie from the French translation and thus -- well not improved it, but, you know. Maybe improved it.

"Tui has always focused on delivering the mateship occasion (interaction and sociability).

"Tui is the social glue, any BBQ; student party, 21st or drinking occasion would not be the same without the boy’s favourite drop – Tui.

"Loyal drinkers are the heart of the brand, those whom still have that spark in their eye. They have grown up with the brand and are avid promoters of the brand. However while they still enjoy a few beers with their mates, because of other ‘life’ commitments are not able to get on the piss with such vigour or frequency as their somewhat younger understudies."

http://www.tui.co.nz/upimg/tui_history.pdf.

" A Hamilton beer billboard accused of linking women and alcohol in a "thoroughly nasty manner" has been cleared by the Advertising Standards Complaints Board in a split decision.

"The sign, displayed outside Liquor King on the corner of Hood and Anglesea Sts until shortly after a complaint was lodged in September, boasted the caption: "My daughter's not like the other girls" followed by the Tui beer tag-line: "Yeah, right."

"J McDonald of Hamilton the board could not provide his or her full name _ complained of its distressing message of "pseudo-sophisticated cynicism". "My immediate reaction to this was revulsion. The only interpretations I could come up with were:

"* My daughter's really a slut who gets plastered regularly on Tui beer and I'm just a deluded parent, or;

"* My daughter isn't a slut, but give her a good dose of Tui beer and she soon will be."

.....

"The majority ruled it was "a clever campaign which was unlikely to cause widespread offence" and "a humorous reflection of an age-old reality".

"Although the advertising complaints board does not provide a breakdown of voting, secretary Glen Wiggs recalled the split as being 5-3."

http://www.realbeer.co.nz/alefiles/beer_writers/bruce_holloway/article_2004_03_1_0251.php

Watchin' Dallas. Yeah, I'm watchin'. Not watching. Like everyone else, I'm watchin'. Nobody's watching, some cool people are watchin'.

So I'm watchin Dallas. I'm watchin Dallas and I'm watching Lucy get abducted by a lowlife. Lucy gets abducted by this lowlife, and the audience, in some oblique way, are the lowlifes. Because Dallas is careful to stratify itself, to refer to its audience and to their difference from the Ewing family, in a very benevolent way: they speak about 'us' and 'them' (the rich people) in a way that's archaic, historical - it makes me sad to think about how there is no more 'us' and 'them', and that wasn't so long ago, only the end of the seventies. In Dallas, it happens all the time that when the robbers find out someone is a commoner, they decide not to shoot them, or when they find out someone is rich, they call them their enemy, a traitor. And that can't happen now, because there's no sense of 'us' and 'them' ... it's been erased. In America, I think there's just the North and the South and there's no sense that the rich South is them and the poor South is us. There's the North and the South and people from the South say 'you see, you don't even know what's going on down here'. They don't mean the rest of the world, they mean the rest of the world including North America, so that North America's part of the rest of the world. For example, the makers of a movie about Southern brass bands, a big phenomenon - the 'next cheerleading' - say, 'people just aren't aware, they haven't even heard of this' and they mean the rest of America and the world, inclusively. Anyway, yeah, but there's no more 'us' and 'them', it's very sad. On Dallas, there's the robber us, and the social crusader us. The social crusader us is undercut a bit by the fact that the guy, Pamela Ewing's brother (a commoner) is supposedly only socially crusading from envy and malice, not from a true desire to redistribute the wealth of the Senators and oil barons. So okay, Dallas isn't perfect. You said it was, but I'm telling you it's not. It's not perfect, but still, it has this noir-ish sense of social stratification that's been blurred into cheerleading and brass band movies.

I thought that would be a good headline for someone called Thorn who did something tricky. But the only person I can think of is the rugby player Andrew Thorne, they could use that if he did some really amazing evasive maneuvre or something, but it would be wasted on him, still, I think I might add it to my file of potential headlines for the Herald. That file does not truly exist, okay. And also I don't know if Andrew Thorne is still a rugby player or if that was 20 years ago, or even if he is a rugby player, so you need not laugh at my stupidity if you know better than me, because I already knew that I didn't know.

I just read this some of this lovely book review site: http://dannyreviews.com/h/Intellectual_Impostures.html

It makes me think that starting a review site of my own wouldn't be a completely wasted endeavour. It's tempting to think that the internet is already too filled with rubbish to contribute more of one's own, and also I suppose I would have been put off by finding review sites little use myself, but this review site immediately made me think more carefully about my own writing and thinking. I'd like to write, for example, about Keith Waterhouse and how I think he's underrated. Except maybe he's not, but that sort of thing.

If anyone ever reads this who knows anything about Alan Sokal, can you please pass it on to me?

'Rangutan a ring ting tong
I'm related to old King Kong

- Neil Sedaka

He should've said 'I'm related to Donkey Kong'. That would've been better even though 'Donkey Kong' hadn't been invented.