Hey you, stop that! Slow down there - you're always in a rush 'inchah'?

"Your personal contact and relationship with beings, no matter where they might be "from," is completely up to you. "

You can't shock a flat-line.

Naked, save for the gloves from an intricate Pre-Raphaelite Space Suit.

I still picture the boys face...

Roll[o].

Do you ever stop? Do you ever just stop and take a look around, empty your pockets, clear your head. Why are you afraid to just drop me a line and say something? I know you've been reading - and I want to know what's going on inside that head of yours. I'm just as confused and sorted as you are. DON'T ASK ME WHAT IT MEANS BECAUSE I DON'T KNOW ANY BETTER THAN YOU DO . But understanding is like crime: together we'll crack it . All your foolish thoughts and painful needs, unseen. In time, you'll look back on these things and you'll treasure them. Friends gone AWOL, places we used to live, those secret little places we used to wait out our time, dancing to some truelly crap songs. It didn't matter. It was fun. We had fun. No amount of sardonic looks can un-make those times. Larger than life.

A chocolate bar has melted in my sleep.

At the end of the hall is an open room,
a store cupboard sized room
where someone has left
a number of old tapes and records
all packed into these white-plastic coated steel-grid shelfing.
It's mostly Frank and the gang.
But I don't have anything to play the stuff on.

None of us are trying hard enough.

Roll[o].

Is Exorcism A Valid Cure For Mental Illness?

"OK, I'm taking off my Sports-Bra... [mmmm... oh yes... that feels quite good actually]... rub some more ketchup on me plimsoles... mmmm...."

What are you trying to say?! Why doesn't my hair look like that anymore? Oh god no. Oh god no.

"Why don't you love me? I did it for you! So we could be together!"

WHY DON"T YOU LOVE ME!!?!?!?!?!!!!!

I stood outside your house for the entire night [like you told me to] and you never said a word!!! I 4ucking love you - and if you don't love me I'm gonna steal your dog.

"I've done it before and I'll do it again!!!!!!!!!!"

I have an answerphone that I leave at my brother's house. My brother is an alcoholic writer. I pay him £50 a week to answer my phone and drive me to pubs and stuff.

Roll[o].

Rollo Kim's Pin Worm Circus

You basatradard

They're gonna find that note sooner or later and when that happens we can sit back and boom, boom.

Man with eyes approaches youth 'wantoooobuyaaaarwaatch' in sloooooowwwwwwwmmooootttitonn his eyes, though, am just awe - full.

Youth smiles, and when her head has gone back far enough the maaaannnnn shines a bright light down the front of her T-shirt. Just for a second.

I still picture the boys face...

"How are you Roland?" She asked me,
then I turned to face her, and she could see the gaping wound on the far side of my forehead,
"huhaauuhhauuuhauuuu." I said, smiling, gapped-toothed, bruised. My hair has turned red overnight.

Stuntereed quasi-poetry of maaan.

Roll[o].



Pin Worm

itchy bum - or is it Pin Worms?!?!

The Disease
The disease is mild unless large numbers of worms are present. It causes a disease called Enterobiasis. It is one of those embarrassing irritations causing intense itching around the perianal area as the adult worms leave the bowel and migrate on to the skin to lay their eggs. The eggs are very resistant to dehydration and can easily be dispersed in the air. Infections are most common in children. It is especially common in the autumn when they return to school, and in institutionalized populations. Since the eggs almost immediate infective and they have the ability to stick to things like clothing, bedding, and toys make it difficult to control. The chlorine levels used in swimming and wading pools is not sufficient to kill the eggs.

Digestion
They feed on wastes and bacteria in the cecum and appendix of the large intestine. They take food in though their mouth into their bodies.

Excretion
The solid wastes goes through the anus, and the liquid wastes goes through the excretory pore.

Nervous system
They have a ganglion at the anterior end.

Reproduction
Once worm eggs are swallowed they develop into adult worms in the intestinal tract. The female worms then lay thousands of very tiny eggs around the anus of the infected person, usually at night. The presence of the worms on the skin around the anus results in severe rectal or occasionally a vaginal itch. This itch, in turn, can cause nervousness and irritability during the day, restlessness and difficulty sleeping during the night, and often causes the person to scratch and get new eggs on the hands and under the fingernails. Any objects then touched by the infected person can become contaminated. If you think your child has pinworms, call the doctor's office and the problem will be evaluated.

Circulation
It has an opened circulatory system

Respiration
They obtain oxygen though diffusion

Locomotion
They move in a thrashing or whipping motion

Tissue organization
 It has 3 germ layers with a pseudocoelom

Symmetry
Bilateral symmetry

 Alternative names:
seatworm; enterobiasis Enterobius vermicularis; oxyuriasis; threadworm; pinworm infection

Your starter for ten

You don't understand me at all do you? No, no you don't. You never call, you never write. I wake up and you're never there. What do you mean, 'That was ten years ago Rollo' - you think I need to hear that stuff right now? What court order? What?

Don't pretend you don't know her because you do! I saw you talking to her that one time, in that place you took her to, so there! Hu! Don't try to pull the bag over my eyes, with gaffa tape and handcuffs, driving me out to the trees like I'm some kind of specially trained school boy. Jesus!

"Why you want to do this to me?"
"Because it's for the best, we've grown apart, you and I."
"But my teeth are all falling out and I'm very, very lonely without you!"
"Come now, we agreed that this would happen, now, hand me the keys."

Mr Sleaze is on the ball, as ever - why does a novel have to be 300 pages plus, why chapters, why why why? And while I wasn't massively chuffed with Mr Noon's latest, at least it's something new - it's an object, it's a thing in itself, it's not just 'a really good book'.

Package in the post this morning: Tove Jansson's 'Tales From Moominvalley' - let's rock!

Incredibly intricate site

Advantages of being stranded in the centre of England: if some 'popular beat combo', like The Chameleons, for example, aren't playing in Brum or Wolves, you can always hop on a train and see them in Manchester. It requires little extra effort. You can also hop on a different train and go to Preston to see Mr Genesis P'Orridge.


Who needs a day job?!

Roll[o].

Dreamt I was back at school again . I went through a period up until a year ago where every night for months on end, I kept dreaming that I had to go back to school... and some of my friends were still there too?!? Errr... I wonder if they [the school]have a site? It's under construction, and there's no way I'm going to give it a link. I was also daydreaming about this spooky toy-synthetic voice saying 'we promise not to hurt you, we only want to help you', over and over again.

I really need [or is it want?] an external hard disk - but don't know if I want to splash out. This here Mac has but 5 gig... and I'm trying to edit a short film? And further my musical exploits? And... and... and... To click or not to click? Online orders make it just too tempting.

There's not much out there that interests me today... accept for a Scorn CD I found on amazon. Oh my God - you can get the recent stuff on vinyl... oh my bank account... bang goes another tenner. And I'm very anti-shopping. But this a one off - I'm sure. This is all a bit specific for me isn't it?

Also - I found my missing Walk In Film article about SpyPunk. It's not great.

Roll[o].

"Poverty frees them from ordianry standards of behaviour, just as money frees people from work." George Orwell.

Some[thing's] very wrong... I have this urge to rush out and spend all of my money on waterpistols?

Wee - based design [sic]

Oww! I think I just broke my head. Oww...

The Bizunth Corporation: "We should all drive around in a van solving mysteries..."

I've spent the last two days attempting to sift through my art and txt - trying to present it all in a way that doesn't come across as self indulgent.. There's always something really difficult about putting your cv on-line, but at least you can take a look at some examples of work, as oposed to reading about how many swimming certificates I don't have, or how I was really good at hurting things...

Does that make it any less indulgent - even if your work is web-based, [I just wrote 'wee-based'] and you keep sticking in these really embarrasing pictures of yourself looking like a div? By way of lessening the blow - the html equivalent of air-bags? And snapping to after god-knows how many hours thinking... maybe I should eat something... Me not know... me lack the capacity for self-awareness.

But moving on to more serious sub - jects...

You come home but you don't live here anymore...

You come home and they've all left you and it's the last thing you ever ever ever thought would happen.

Every song seemed to be saying something for the first time in an age.

And everybody I see for the entire week is talking about playing songs to make themselves feel bad about someone else...

This isn't what I had in mind at all... but you've become like a boozey aunt to me... always good for a quckie... [sorry!]

Roll[o].

Resources For Shy People

Total Stranger: "Are you lost?"
Me: "No, I'm just looking around..."
Total Stranger: "Oh, how lovely for you."

"This Nostalgia for charmless times = Fear of Tomorrow." Grant Morrison.

All we ever wanted was anything

"Then the question arises, Why are beggars despised? - for they are despised, universally. I believe it is for the simple reason that they fail to earn a decent living. In practice nobody cares whether work is useful or useless, productive or parasitic; the sole thing demanded is that it shall be profitable. In all the modern talk about energy, efficiency, social service and the rest of it, what meaning is ther except 'Get money, get it legally, and get a lot of it? Money has become the grand test of virtue."

George Orwell - Down and Out in Paris and London

Beneath the pavement, the beach...

The news is a veil. Behind it sits a sniggering child's idea of what truth is. The news pimps , like the politicians and media stars they simultaneously attempt to deify and destroy [like true believers], exist in a world that is far [removed] from our own. Their priorities are not the same, their standards of living. But on an emotional, and pyschological level, there lives are no richer than ours. And surely these are the aspects of our lives which are the most treasured, the most vital.

We live under a continual pressure to conform to other people's notions of who we should be, how we should behave, appear, speak, think; what we should eat and drink, who we should associate with, who we should want to sleep with.

Teachers, preachers, politicians, journalists, directors, marketing executives, employers, the people we always end up arguing with down the pub - none of these people know the first thing about who we are, what we really need, who we really want to be, where we want to be, and who with.

They too exist under a pressure to continually sell us images, materials, objects, things that we never really need - and yet time and time again, they succeed in selling us more of the same useless things that we already have. Even those of us who attempt to bypass the endless one step behind of fashion, find that the images that we create are taken from us, imitated, stripped of meaning, and sold back to us at massively inflated prices, in the kinds of stores we feel we shouldn't be shopping in in the first place.

It's a fabulously cruel equation that the majority of us are not permitted to understand.

If we could really start to attempt to decide the difference between what we are told we need, and what we really need [in food, clothing, entertainment, objects], how much less money would we need to survive? And how much more of our time would we be able to reclaim through this pressure to earn?


Beneath the beach, the pavement...


We have a tremendous thirst that will never be quenched by consumerism. We have barely begun to decide what we are really craving for, but we are continually failing to find it amongst the endlessly regurgitated consumer garbage we are being sold - bigger TV's to watch the same old crap; more expensive stereos to listen to the same old music, in the latest, but not necessarily better quality format [fact: minidisc holds far less information than CD; fact: CD holds a lot less information than vynil]; clothes that are past their sell-by date regardless of the fact that they are still of wearable condition [we're just not ALLOWED to wear them anymore for fear of looking out of touch]; clubs where we have to PAY for the privallege of dancing to our favourite kinds of music. Drinks that only make us more thirsty.

Cinema that never satisfies. Music that says nothing about our lives.

I've learned to stop and admire the view. I've learned to sit and listen. I've learned to shut up and just feel.

Roll[o].

"We wouldn't want the premises to be associated with young adults running up and down enjoying themselves now would we? Now clear off!"

I'm back after a mixture of creativity [mostly running around central London under the gaze of security cameras in the name of crackerdog productions], [thanx Alan and Jo] and general sitting around drinking and talking about the important stuff: relationships, holidays, art, music, food, booze [thanx Jo]. Apparently some people think the crackerdog thing is pretenscious - of course it is! But if we don't take ourselves too seriously then who will?

'I am all of the friends I have ever been"

My arty activities have lead me back to the homepage of Forced Entertainment - possibly the one and only exception to the rule that states 'all performance art is shite.'

'Fiendships' are there to challenge and soothe...

It took me a couple of days to get back to 'normal' [clears throat], but I'm hopefully ready to return to 'work' [makes a run for it when no-one else is looking his way] -whatever that entails. Weird, when your physical and mental needs [drink, debate, stomping around town] are suddenly satisfied and you're left hanging in the air without the need to do anything at all for a day or so. Red Wine for lunch then.

nice.

I've had a pretty miserable year. I have to remind myself that I'm not obliged to rush right back into the normal world at all. 4uckit - I WANT chaos.

There IS no way of stopping this. Whatever happens HAPPENS. I still love you, dammit.

Roll[o].