I have to say that, although Big Brother didn't really appeal to me at all - and if it was on, I had my back to the TV while working - I do think it says a lot that Brian won. Nice one!

If homosexuality is a disease,
let's all call in queer to work.
"Hello, can't work today. Still
queer." -Robin Tyler

I need food.

Thursday: I only went out for stationary. Ended up bumping into MC Noize, spending scary amount of money on vinyl, too much booze and not enough food. The Brass Eye Special [unbelievable!]. Friday, projectile vomiting from an empty stomache. Sleep. An urge to look up sites about 'survival' without much results. Listening to a load of old 12" at last, make an easy peace with my stomache [yesterday all I could manage were two Ribenna frozen-lollie efforts and one slice of cold [wheat-free] toast... Saturday, much the same. Sunday - hungry.

Roll[o].

This weeks useless shopping list:

waterpistols
Anything to do with Marmalade Atkins
Honey
Film for camera
A nice Hat.

I'm becoming nocturnal. I've been writing until five in the morning for days and it feels soooo good! No distractions I guess. And I have found not one literary agent on the planet that deals with anything remotely 'underground' or experimental. Ne'mind. Lots to do. I seem to be in 'article mode' of late. Flippantly typing out vague but enthused crap about magickal consciousness, art-crime and why you should quit your job at the first oportunity. You know it makes sense. Now... breakfast...

I seem to have subconsciously based my adult persona on a kind of punk John Hegley. Without the glasses though [can't afford them at the moment]. Nice to know I can hopefully carry on being 'me' into my thirties and beyond without looking like a prat [well, more of a prat than now anyway]. I've got cravings for cigarettes and red wine and a decent sandwich. Of course, I have none of these things so it'll have to be coffee and toast. Even coffee and toast sounds quite appealing though.

Watching the last episode of The Prisoner. Trying to write this story that is kind of about a secret society [I want to use that idea without losing the mystery of the idea]. And I want it to be almost invisibly based within this naff cabaret-nightclub which is basically The Magic Club from Desperately Seeking Susan. Anyway, How do you write about something illusive and secret without detracting from the sense of mystery. If anybody can think of a novel or film even remotely about a secret society can you let me know? I seem to remember there was a work of early cinema about a secret society which was an influence on Twelve Monkies [not La Jeteé].

Roll[o].

Attempting to find an agent when you don't have one is like trying to find a home when you are homeless [and I know what I am talking about so don't start]: no dss, references required = no fiction, no poetry, no science fiction, no post-rational pop-poetic-prose on what is the nature of the real and consciousness. Thank you.

"Look at me' monkey!"

Roll[o].

Good morning class, if I may turn your attention to the following little trailer: we are not afraid of you. I think the image of the girl is from a series that Jamie 'Gorillaz' Helwett did for The Face? I have no idea what it is yet but they're using my space to do it in - I had the name for ages but couldn't decide what it actually needed to be about. So someone else has decided for me. And that's just fine as long as they keep the noise down to a minimum. [I get to do the graphics though and at least I don't have to write the entire thing!] They wanted banners like 'our demands' and 'documentation', so who knows!


A brief look at the headlines:

US based Invisible Mr K Talbot has abandoned his plans for spypunk.com [after beating me to registering the domain name when I happened to mention that there were bands that kind of enjoyed elements of punk, jazz, psychadelia and the likes of The Prisoner]. So I'm going to put up the escapeart version because our pages are cool and his really were awful [sorry Kev!]. You cannot create a culture and expect people to pay for it, but you can create and celebrate your own. It's just a name.


Music News:
In an attempt to break from the isolation of writing his next album, Conrad [Merz] recently applied to appear on the TV show Stars In Their Eyes impersonating Merz but was rejected on the grounds that "the chosen act was not famous enough".

And now a look at the weather:

The makers of The Gladiator are producing the film version of Whitely Strieber's latest book. Sadly, it's not The Key , it's The sequal to the Hunger - but at least that's something! His homepage is well worth checking out for daily news updates on the weird and wonderful goings on of the world:

[He] stands there leaning against an air conditioner outlet in a hotel room for an hour or so. He looks perfectly normal and accessible. But then I can never find him again. Or the people who showed up at my cabin to meditate with me. I was with them nightly in full and normal consciousness all the time. The cats reacted to them as if they were real. They used the bed in the guest room. BUT, if you tried to come up on them--out they went through the wall.

Can you imagine, seeing such things and living with them daily, and then not being able to prove it to anybody else? It drives me up a wall, because I know that there is so much more to this world, that we are capable of such grand things, but I see us mired down in greed and politics and ridiculous, pointless trivia, and I can't do much of anything to wake people up, except make a little noise for a little while, they go my way.

Whitely Strieber.

cool journal entry about the Man From Toronto.


Is everybody having a good time?

Roll[o].

"Biologists often say that sex never should have happened"

I cannot trust my mouth
to speak up for itself.
I has a tendency to run aground,
to reverse its way
down dead end alleyways
with its lights out,
smiling, eyes closed.

It just doesn't know what it's talking about.

When I'm silent,
I'm at least standing next to the real me,
in a que.
firesmadesafe.

Christ - have I joined the ranks of poetry writing web-loggers ? I think not - I'm not listening to Ash, nor am I shopping for shirts that cost me more than this mac, or throwing dinner parties. And this is NOT a diary! And I'm not a student. And I'm not certainly not beautiful or rich.

I was up until 4 am last night scribbling and tapping away and it felt gooooood! Writing writing writing something new....
Rejection number two from writer's agent BookBlast Ltd [the only 'underground' agent in the book] arrived this morning. Ho-ho-hum.

Roll[o].

I think the above post says it all really - she's miffed, but she still looks kind of cute don't she? Eh?
It's 2.13 am in Rollo's bunker. Rollo has spent the last twenty minutes making : this out of the things that he has been staring at for the last hour. Rollo is feeling beyond-tired. He likes it. This may account for the fact that he is referring to himself in the third person. He just had to check the spelling of 'in' - in the dictionary. He feels 'yummy' now. Thirsty too. He thinks he may have over-come his 'difficult period'. Finding that picture seems to have soothed something. Blrrrrbabbooobrrrmdkfdlf.....

“The longer the bones, the more likely the person was taller...”

the all new iBrator : it's even USB compatible!

coming soon: John Lydon presents 21st Century Heretics [UFOS and stuff!]

John Lydon: Tony Blair is an arsehole. He is the worst kind of Tory and for him to win by a landslide means Britain is sliding off the cliff permanently. You lose your British pound and the White Cliffs of Dover will become a politically incorrect statement. Remember, Tony Blair is public school for some... Each generation should have its own sound. And we cannot live, and hide, in others' personalities. Be your own, and you will be true to yourself. That is the original punk sound...The skill is in creation not duplication. The root core of that is honesty.

Roll[o].

Zenith has lead me to the following snippet of dirt:

eMpTyV:"Most recently, Kelley Deal has reportedly teamed with former Skid Row frontman Sebastian Bach to form The Last Hard Men."

I used to think Kelley Deal was ace - what the fuck is she doing loitering with that squeeky, cowboy-boot wearing, poodle-haired, whiney-voiced, stunted homophobic twat?

Uncomfirmed Reports
Former Rock Gods The Sisters of Mercy are rumoured to be working on new material for the second S Club Seven album. An S'Club Spokesperson reported: "Yeah, we're hoping that this collaboration will introduce a certain sense of depth into the group's sound. We've always felt that 'The Club had this underlying sense of the tragic - that kind of tragic-romantic thing that both bands have. There's definitely some common ground between the two..."

Robbie Williams is set to record an album of 'Screwdriver Tribute Songs'. Robbie claims that the National Front - affiliated rock band have always held a special place in his record collection. And Robbie's from Stoke too, so what more evidence do you need to prove that he's a Nazi?

Geri Spice is also rumoured to be starring in the next Spielberg project, as ET in the sequal to the multi-billion dollar movie, and that.

Other stuff has also been rumoured to be going on, but to be honest I don't actually give a shit.

Roll[o].

Just got back from seeing Tomb Raider. It wasn't all that bad but... no real characters, no plot, no depth, no skill.

I feel miserable and I've no idea why. AOL won't let me use Dreamweaver to access web sites anymore. Funny that. So you go to the complaints department of their crummy site and they basically tell you if you phone them they won't answer the phone. And there's no email contacts for any kind of support. Funny that...

I'm doing lots of healthy creative things but I feel utterly drained. I could quite easily spend the entire day in bed but I know that's really not healthy. I have a less than zero chance of finding a real job in the real world. Anyway, back to the real me:

Where is Liz Fraser? .

MC Noize sent me in the direction of this site : 'The British Conservative Catholics. Very odd. If it's a joke then it's a pretty commited one. From their Spice Girls shocking truth article:

"When I began investigating the Spice Girls I was unaware of the depravity I was to encounter. I can now reveal to you what I found out, a list of shocking exclusives that includes:


* None of the Spice Girls are sisters!

* Posh Spice's and David Beckham's plans to produce a family of übermensch!!"

Deep fried chicken pie, in a bun... yes, it's the McChickenPieBurger... 99% cardboard free.

Can I just check, is there anybody actually reading this thing?

Roll[o].

It's Firday, it's 7.30, it's time to scream at the TV because it's Top Of The Poops Time!!!!

I'm watching with the sound off and the stereo on: I've got Hear' Say dancing to The Prisoner Theme Tune!!!!! Or how about The Strokes miming to Television!?! Or Great Dane Bowlers sweating along to... oohh... erm... Party Fears by The Associates?! And suddenly even TOTP doesn't seem like a damp train spotter in sports socks and sandles, balding at fifteen, a plastic bag at his side [containing packed lunch and a flask of 'weak lemon drink']...

How sweet life is...

Well I'm off for a week of isolation and a'rambling in deepest Wales [see - I could have said somewhere exotic couldn't I but no - I was honest - how pretentious is that then?]. See ya!

Roll[o].

why we never DO Boldy Go Beyondy ANYWHERE

With CGI and computer-rendering technology making an increasingly convincing job of liquifying pixels , where anything is possible and always looks better than the real thing , I'm left wondering why we never actually do get to see the impossible , even the unlikely... or at least something unique , something genuinely un-earthly . But no, we get the same old dated-looking 'evil space-robots' attempting to 'destroy our planet and turn us into slaves' [like we can't do that ourselves! Where's the fiction in that?!]. We get Manga hair and eighties-style chromium-eyes-a-balze-robots that simply kill anything they come into contact with. Will someone please put the toys [or at least the storylines] for these things in the hands of someone with a little originality.

Lara Croft = this years most expensive car advert.

"Sure baby, I love it when you feed that rubber tube down my throat..."
"Dammit but I don't want you' like it!"

Roll[o].

A two hour walk to a friends house at four in the morning on Sunday now prevents me from getting out of bed. I've spent the last two solid days and nights sleeping.

Elvis... Evils....

post-modernism in a can?
Tony Clifton or Andy Kaufman?

Michael Atavar?

And if I'm getting so good, at clearing out my head, then why am I dreaming about Eastenders?

Good night.

Roll[o].