With an ungainly bump and a thud, I’m off on another internet adventure. Come journey with me through the rippled silliness of my grey matter, as I project it (word-wise) onto the screen before me. All for your consumption, my special special friends. Meaning anyone who bothers clicking onto here. Which I hope is …
1) Is Australia racist? Following the Harry Connick Jr Blackface Outrage (see here) and the ill-fated release of Oreo rip-offs entitled “Creole Creams” (evidence), Australia finds itself being asked that question. As a completely unqualified outsider, I’m going to answer it right now. On a whole, no more so than anyone else. In specific clusters, …
See, the issue here is that while it raises an interesting point, it’s ultimately stymied by the number of crudely drawn phalluses that dominate the walls. Admittedly, the crudely drawn phallus has been a staple of art going back some 20,000 years now. And seeing them in the bathroom stall, they were drawn …
Surroundings: Unpleasant tiny fluorescent bulb in lamp, as white as light can be. So white it sucks the color out of everything it hits. Myself included. Headphones in, music blaring. Cheap office chair not built or adjusted or whatever for someone my height, or width for that matter. Large glass of water. Sounds like …
Again I’m treading into the waters of writing without the foggiest idea where I’m going. Bad metaphors aside–I assume they’re just a given now–I feel good. Weirdly good. Able-to-do-a-handstand good. No joke, I checked earlier. I don’t necessarily think Australia is the reason for this, but I think decontextualizing myself (leaving everything I know, …
Foo Fighters covering Gary Numan. Modern production and rock aesthetic meets a futurist anthem of alienation. It’s basically the perfect music for me to write by. Paranoid lyrics mixed with some haunting stuff. That’s all I’ve got for today. Goodnight all. RJC
