Just practicing.

If at first you don't succeed...

Given that this is about, oh, my twentieth attempt at blogging, that post title has acquired the kind of irony reserved for expressions like "f*cking for virginity", "war on terror", or "you've misunderestimated me".

I've been inspired, after a fashion, by some amazing blogs I've encountered over the past few days. And the reason for me encountering them is a renewed and intense interest in world events, above-and-beyond this cushy island continent I've been lucky enough to call home. This renewal was triggered initially by my decision to relocate to the UK later this year, but was fuelled by the lead up to the electrifying 2008 presidential election in America, and sustained by events like the farcical installation of Dmitry Medvedev as the president of Russia, Israel's vindictive war on Gaza, the assassination of outspoken Sri Lankan journalist Lasantha Wickrematunge, Robert Mugabe's openly insane crusade to suck Zimbabwe dry and piss on its corpse... And the rest.

So anyway, my blog. I started this one up originally as some kind of creative outlet, with the intention of forcing myself to regularly post either a dodgy piece of writing, or a dodgy drawing, or a dodgy phone-cam pic. Of course, the initial momentum petered out eventually [as I've mentioned before, the internet is littered with the dessicated husks of my previous attempts] and the blog has languished in cyberspace ever since.

Now I once again have the strange urge to make my presence known, however minute, in blogworld, but am unsure how to go about it. I notice the best blogs tend be centred around some particular theme, but I'm blowed if i know what my theme is. I tend to be a bit jack-of-all-trades-master-of-none, which leaves me chucking bits of internal flotsam & jetsam up at random intervals [self-discipline is always an issue].

How about I post a pic now? [See what I mean?]

I'll think on it.

Popvultures: thoughts on Buffy.

B: you know that phrase "when you point a finger, you've got a few pointing back at you"?
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me: remove the log in your own eye, etc

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B:you got it
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me: imagine having a log in your eye

laugh

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B: timberrrrrrrrrrrr

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me: you'd be on the news in the human interest section

"MIRACULOUS ESCAPE FOR GIRL WITH LOG IN EYE"

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B: i've always wanted to be on the news...

people would start calling me Tree Eye or something

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me: lol loglady

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B: or iLog

that's so twin peaks of you

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me: LAUGH

bingo

popculturewhore

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B: my coffee has kicked in. and yes, i'll gladly take up the PC Whore crown

as long as i get a scepter to go with

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me: wrong thoughts

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B: ha!

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me: lol - that's my boy gene kicking in, always goes for the lowest common denominator

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B: if i was to go back to school right this very minute, i'd want to study group dynamics

group dynamics in the way of the internet age, in various subsects of real world (i.e. 12 step programs), etc...

pop culture definitely included in that. i've always loved pop culture. the kitchiness, the fads

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me: that would be crazy

anything about culture in this age would be an insanely expanding field

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B: you should see my personal library...

i know, that's what would make it so exciting

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me: i can't believe you don't have buffy in your personal canon

like seriously, i'm amazed

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B: never seen it. i know, i'm a little amazed too. i just never got into it. the more people were all about Buffy, the more i lost the inclination to see it

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me: i know we don't like the same stuff

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B: i remember being online and it was all Buffy Buffy Buffy Buffy

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me: but i think that on a certain level

we think the same way

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B: well, yeah. if we were too much alike in our tastes, this wouldn't be as much fun

we'd be the Mutual Admiration Society

"no you're the best. no YOU're the best"

repeat infinitum

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me: and i would say to you: joss whedon is a disturbingly clever writer, and casting has rarely achieved such a pinnacle of accuracy

and the actors give 168% and then some

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B: perhaps i'll have to start adding them into my Netflix queue

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me: it pins down all sorts of intriguing contemporary moral dilemmas, it isn't patronising, it isn't wishy-washy, it nails things

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B: do you work for Whedon?
i'm just funnin' on you. seriously, i'll start mixing Season One into our queue. and i'll let you know how we fare

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me: it's fucking sharp, and it puts it all through the california valley girl mincer and gives us the kind of popvulture burgers we wouldn't get in the double meat palace

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B: i know its not the same, but i secretly love the original movie

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me: give it time, it gets better, and better, and better

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B: oooh. good analogy w/ the burgers

clever pants

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me: and the series leaves the movie for fucking dead. i mean rotting corpse. dead.

i mean john wayne gacy junior dead.

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B: LOL. i don't think you're being clear enough about dead.

tentative:putative

An initial drawing by jemima for the tatt that's going on my lower back, beneath my other back piece. the trunk will be rooted in my sacral plexus, so that the roots of the tree explode in approximately the same place as my sacral plexus explodes...

morning:city:reflection:sun

The city, seen through the trees of Carlton Gardens, one sharp, bright, winter morning.

clear.day:crepuscular.rays:looking.north:cloud:sky

Rathdowne Street, Carlton, Melbourne

nost/algia - a.k.a. the calm before the storm...

Holden Street, North Fitzroy, Melbourne.

my late-twenty-somethingth birthday, kelly on my left, from canada, robbie on my right, all of us with a buckley's in hand, my brand new four-burner barbecue behind us [a present from my adorable family], happy.

Hosier Lane, Melbourne CBD.

ok, so it's another html joke, but hey, i reckon it's kinda clever.

late:winter:noon:sun

Melbourne City Baths, Swanston Street, Melbourne.