A public service announcement on behalf of the Campaign For Better Goths.

Prodigy: Really fucking smart kid who can do stuff that you normally can't do unless you're an adult or at least a much older kid.

Protégé: French word, meaning someone who's being protected in some way. Like, by an influential patron who's sorting out your life or your career. Something like that.

See? Different things. Different. Thiiiiinnnngggs. Not interchangeble.

P:S.: You people are pathetic. Yeah, I'm aware that I screw up my spelling and grammar with indecent regularity, but I'm still less of a moron than you lot. I was taught to read and write by a dyslexic cook and I had no conventional schooling between the ages of 6 and 14, so If I know something then everyone ought to know it,* end of. And yet I'M telling YOU stuff? You suck.

P.P.S.: If you don't all learn how to use a bloody apostrophe properly in the next 2 weeks or so, I'm going to track you down to the ends of the earth and force-feed you a Leylandii hedge.


*Unless it involves maths because everyone sucks at that.

Creeps.

Why the hell would a complete and total stranger want to follow me all around the bloody Placa Catalunya yesterday? Why did it take so long to shake him? Why didn't I just tell him to sod off?

Now I come to think about it, I have been getting aggro from random strangers for the last couple of days. Pushing, shoving, weird body language, shouted insults... I don't get it. I guess I've been at a bit of a low ebb lately, a bit run down and headachey. Maybe people are picking up on that. Humans are animals, man, and I don't mean that in a jolly, let's-do-it-like-they-do-on-the-Discovery-Channel sort of way. It's like I have to be constantly on my guard because if the beasts outside smell weakness, they'll de-gut me. Wasting energy, wasting time... It's boring.

Getting sick of other people's bullshit, frankly. Sick of having stuff hung on me, sick of the lies that people tell themselves to make it okay for them to act like jerks. Don't want to have to watch my every move, waiting for someone to trip me up.

You know what I mean.

Anyway. Last night was cool. The new batch of students in my building decided to have a neighbourhood gathering out on the landing. They came by and rang the doorbell, and we all stood around yakking in broken English, Spanish and Italian until it started to rain. God, they're all so young! Hopefully we'll be getting together for a group meal at some point. I could do with something fresh in my life, something that isn't stale, isn't a bloody repeat.

If I ever got this crap, you guys'd tell me, right?

*Giggle*
*Snort*
*Chuckle*
*Chortle*

Bwa, hahahahahahahahaaaa!

*Rolls onto floor, clutching sides*

I just love the way that when you go to da big scawy bwack magickian's actual Lj, it's all personality tests. Evil overlord rule #1095: "I will not undermine my aura of dark and terrible menace by speculating in public as to what sort of cheese I am."

Dude. No, seriously-- dude.

Okayyyy.

Had a nice night out on Sat. Went to see some friends for a drink, ended up staying out till four or five. Didn't even notice the time.

Sunday was cool. The healer's network people all seem really sweet. Next meet is in a month's time; it's their bonanza day, everyone trading skills. Every other person seems to have a Reiki attunment so I've offered SKHM, just for a bit of a change. I'm hoping to pair up with a channeller, 'coz I want a word with a certain pair* of spooky invisible voyeurs. But I'm easy, really.

*I've been getting a clearer mental image of the enities lately. Not sure how much detail I want to go into on my public blog, but it looks like they're twins or something. They've been getting mega pushy-- they want a weblog of their own now. A green one, apparently. Which is fine by me, but they're going to have to learn a form of communication other than trouser semaphore.

Oh, and this better be good, guys. There's no way you're getting me to stand up in front of the entire blogosphere and tell everyone I bring them a message of universal peace and harmony. Peace and harmony do not go with my stuff.

Bugger.

Would you belive I actually managed to miss the demo? It was a five-to-seven in the afternoon deal, and I was assuming it would be more like all evening. So we got to the meeting point at around half-six (I mean, who goes around starting demonstrations on time?) and eveyone was already gone. I hate it when I screw up like that.


In future, http://www.ainfos.ca/ca/ainfos04787.html might come in handy.

Hmmm.

Got a new thing accepted by emergency:PARADIGM. Don't know when it'll appear. That's good coz I have one or two other bits of crap that I don't know what to do with. Been on a writing jag recently, but not finding myself writing the sort of things I want to be writing. Go with it or try and push it onto another track? Dunno.

Saw a pair of discarded trousers in the street last night. I'm always seeing discarded clothing around these days. The most ridiculous incident was while I was visiting my folks-- I saw a whole bag of clothes that someone had chucked out into the street.

Part of me wants to get all pissy with my guides for the embarrassingly transparent Signs, but another part of me recognises that they have to use fairly blunt instruments to drive anything past my innate scepticism. Thanks, guys, but I think I get it now. You wanna patronise me with more worn-out jumpers or do you want to help me on to the next step now?

Additional: Today is that big protest march. Please watch over the assembled mass and help keep things peaceful. Can you keep an eye on me and mine, help us to not get arrested or hit with bricks? Ta.

Additional additional: Okay, so tomorrow I'm going to that healer's meet. Can you please help me be confident, aid me in communicating well, and generally help me to not screw up this opportunity? Ta.

Join ussssss....

After months of poking, Lurid Achive has joined the blogoshpere with a brand spanking new livejournal.

Playful Psychic
Retropsychokinesis
Bellaonline psychic test
To be sidebarred when I get round to it.

spellcheck.net

Should come in handy.

Life, just ticking over.

The student hive where I live has opened up an internet cafe, so I'm checking it out. It's a bit of a rip-off, to be honest, but it's cheaper than peak-rate phone calls. Also I'm sick of using the laptop and the PC's shagged again. I swear that thing spends more time opened up on the bench with its guts hanging out than it spends actually working. This time it looks like the power unit's kaput.

Shit, sorry, that's really boring isn't it? Okay, I'll bitch about something else.

Been in a lower state of consciousness the last week or so. I think that might have to do with all the booze I drunk while I was in London; I didn't poison myyself, or even drink enough to get any proper hangovers, but I find alcohol as a drug has this tendency to drag you down to lower consciousness states. (This is just my experience, of course. YMMV.)

Been feeing uncommonly run-down lately, and not sure why. Slept a lot the other day because I had a cold, and that's how I seem to deal with infections. But the infection has left me now, I'm eating okay and not drinking much except for the odd clara (lager shandy), so I don't get why I'm so knackered all of a sudden.

The enities have definately been there for me, though. They got me lost in a nearby town and thus enabled me to finally find a magick shop. I'm still looking through those lists that grant posted for a magick shop in the city, but this is a start. So thanks for that, guys.

I've decided to start working through Modern Magick after all. I had that big rush of new energy over the months since spring, and that's great. However, I feel like I'm trying to add a new story to my house without having first made sure the foundations are good'n'solid, which would Not Be Wise. It irks me a little, because Modern Magick is so damn po-faced and it feels like a retrograde step in some ways-- "do I have to go over all this again?"-- but I need a focus, some structure. Going into town today so I'll stop off and pick up the relevant kitchenware. (Yes, I do already own all that crap, but I left it in the UK. New life, new magick kit.)

It's weird. I'm doing all this stuff, acting as if it's all real, as if it's a given, and yet at the same time as if it could all be a delusion. It would be nice to get some kind of clear signal that I'm on the right track, that I'm not just being culpably stupid. By this I don't mean a dream or a bird or some other event with a perfectly mundane explanation, I mean real stuff that can't be explained away as coincidence or imagination. Signs and wonders, man, that's what I'd like. Not looking to convince anyone else, just myself.

Anticipation.

God, I'm really looking forward to the demo on the 27th. I was wandering round campus and there were a whole load of posters up, plugging the event. Judging by what I've seen here so far it's going to be massive. People here aren't slack about taking to the streets-- when they've got something to tell the world, they get right up and shout about it. And bang saucepans. I guess it has something to do with the national temprement, but there's also the Franco factor: the memory of life under a fascist dictator is still fresh and sore in many people's minds. Gee, isn't it odd that in countries where people have actually had to deal with that shit, there's much less pro-fascist sentiment and much less striking of fascist poses to shock and get attention than there is in places where everyone's got used to democracy. %I wonder why that might be?%

Escher in Lego.

Better.

Okay, I've just managed to finish something. It's not an article or a story or anything; I suppose you'd call it a fictional narrative essay, if you're the kind of person who goes around saying shit like that. It's called "You're all alone in that internet cafe and nobody loves you", and I don't know where to submit it to so it's up for grabs. Anyone want? Email me or leave a comment. First come first served, no mucking about.

Slump.

Well, that surge of enthusiasm lasted about as long as a snotrag in a spin cycle. All it took to break the spell was to finish typing up my latest novel notes and start working on the actual novel again. I haven't written such unbelivable crap since my first novel, when I was fourteen*. Everything's just gone dead, man. All the pictures I had in my head, the smells, the sounds, the colours, the music of the narrative... I can't find them. And there's nothing for it but to keep sitting in front of this screen day after day till I find them again, broken lines of text staring back at me like a plate of uneaten greens. Gahh.


*Oh, don't worry, I'm no wunderkind. It never saw the light of day. In fact the only thing it saw the light of was the livingroom fireplace.

WOMEN IN THE MIDDLE AGES
The Internet Medieval Sourcebook
Medieval English towns
Women in history
Medieval history
Women's history

Just some links I wanted to keep handy.

Thoughts I have thunk.

Leaving all my art supplies at home while I went on holiday was a really really good idea. All that stuff had become a chore, something I was guiltily avoiding; now it's something I can't wait to crack on with.

I have got to stop obsessing on my lack of conventional academic achievement. It doesn't matter. Sure, there's always going to be some snidey git making cracks about my background*, but that's a comment on themselves more than it is a comment on me. "Hi, I'm an elitist fuckwit who mesures personal worth with bits of paper! Please jettison any and all respect you may have had for me, and ignore anything I may say in future!"

The collapse of my writing ability: It hasn't gone anywhere, idiot, you're the one hiding from it. Stop obsessing on the fractal nature of information and do the goddamn work. You'll get there in the end. Oh, and opinion pieces are ment to be your opinion. Check your facts, sure, but do you really need to get so bogged down in quotes and comments and figures? No. Stop messing, start doing.

Healing as a profession, as a living: I realised what I'm afraid of in that regard.

1) Will need to be around other mystical/magickal types, arghh arghh politics arghhhh. Everyone hates chaos magickians argh.

2) What if I'm kidding myself? What if all this is some delusion? What if I take people's money and they don't get better?

3) Will become weedy wet like basil fotherington-tomas who skip around and sa hullo clouds hullo sky chiz moan drone.

There's also some stuff from the past, an individual who used to demand that I somehow heal the body that ze was constantly and calculatedly trashing, and denigrating my abilities when I couldn't.

But this is all just garbage, things from my antedeluvian past that need and deserve to be rolled up and chucked in the dustbin of history. Pretty good at distancing myself from other people's petty crap these days; deep down, where it really counts, I know this is for real; and dude, my whole personality is not going to evaporate because I use skill A instead of skill B. I'm me, not them. This life isn't that life. And fear is a ghost.



*Actually, it's almost always the same crack. "And this, kids, is why you should stay in school!" Oh, that one never gets tired. Really. It's almost as good as "Do you want fries with that?"

The Potion Maker
mordant carnivalium is a translucent, fine aquamarine powder leeched from the saliva of a Jabberwocky.
Mix with mordant carnival! Username:
Yet another fun meme brought to you by rfreebern

Stonemirror made me do it.

Vacaciones.

Okay, so Day 1 we got to M's flat where we were going to be staying but she was out and we were all Bugger because we didn't have a mobile or anything, and I said Dude, she's just gone to get some beer or something, she'll be back in a minute, her bike's still here. But Lurid got a little antsy at the thought of waiting around so we went to go to the pub or something, but as we were going up the road we saw her coming the other way, we saw her bright orange bag before we could see her face. I was right about the beer. Another friend came over and we had a little dinner party, the first she'd had in her new flat. We christened her new kitchen table with pasta and Stella. Lurid was abducted by aliens in the night.

The next day we visited another mate and then rocked on over to a little tiny fetish night. Got the gen on Mousegate (which was really depressing tho' not for the reasons you'd think, just in a "God, everybody's pretty lame, aren't they?" sort of way.) Lurid abducted again; returned unharmed but with a bizarre craving for vanilla Coke.

Day 3 was the free Limp Bizcuit gig. Yeah, I know, I know, but sometimes you do something you wouldn't normally do and you have a really great time, y'know? I can't say it happened that way on this particular occasion, but it wasn't unpleasant or anything. Just sort of bland... anyway, it gave us a chance to load up on sida cordifolia capsules from the legal high stall. We would need those. Lurid abducted twice; the aliens left a small probe in his right nostril and had to come back for it.

Day after the gig I hooked up with a bunch of my imaginary friends for fun and BEER. I was still a bit zombed from the night before, but not totally incoherent so that was okay. Necked a couple of the capsules and perked up a bit. It was great. Get-togethers like that are what I miss most about living in London.

Then I went and spent a couple of days with my folks, which was nice. I am not sure whether Lurid was abducted during this time or not, but he seemed pre-occupied and kept playing with his tinfoil beanie at mealtimes.

When I got back to London we had another meet, which was cracking good fun. Discovered that a large body of mathmos had had the same idea as us, including a few good buddies, which was awesome. Had one of those stupid nights where you end up in a club and it seems like a really good idea to stay out dancing till 3:30am in the full knowledge that you have to get up at 7am to catch a plane.

We caught the plane. I have no idea how, but we caught the plane. This was to go to an Irish wedding reception, you understand. (The bash was out on Inchydoney island, a slightly awkward to get to but unbeliveably lovely part of the world. West Cork coast, dude. Bloody gorgeous.)

Had a blast at the reception; it was great to see two friends so damn happy. Also enjoyed hooking up with some of the aforementioned mathmos, who I'd not had a chance to really chat to at the London meet. Lurid, myself and M. stayed in the area for the weekend, walking, vegetating, staying up till stupid o'clock and running into various friends from the wedding party. Aliens conspicuous by abscence.

We'd hoped to do a bit more on our return to London, but all that partying had finally caught up with L.A. so we just chilled round his dad's for the last few days, surfing and downloading shit from Kazaa (L.A. senior has broadband). Up-to-date with Buffy, but not Angel.

Did damn-all actual work while I was over there, but I did do a lot of thinking. Will write up thinky stuff and post if not too boring. True to her word, my Mum gave me a digital camera and I took a ridiculous number of pictures, mostly of Inchydoney. However, it is missing some crucial widget that will let it talk to the computer, so I can't start that photolog quite yet.

Aliens left small cocktail-umbrella like device in Lurid's ear; all attempts to dislodge it have so far failed. Must try turpentine. Turpentine shifts most things, I find.

I'm BAAAAAAAAACK!

Well, sort of. Actually I'm still in London; my flight isn't till this evening. Just thought I'd swing by and tell you all to sod off. Losers.

This has been a great break. I'll write a longer post if and when the mood hits but for now, suffice it to say that I have had an amazing two weeks. Partied, visited old haunts, went to a free gig, went to a wedding reception-- it's been awesome. Details to follow...

Holidays.

Off to London tomorrow. Been packing/cleaning/preparing all day-- really wasn't in the mood for it.

Still trying to sort out that article. I don't know why but for the last year it's been really hard to write anything in the non-fictional vein. I used to be really good at this! And it's not liike I don't know how to write an article. I always got really good grades for reports and stuff, even when I was a kid. I blame that stupid degree course. It really seemed to put the kibosh on my non-fiction writing; I suppose because I was just doing so much of it under so much pressure, the pressure and the writing get mixed up in my head. Nothing for it but to stay on the horse. Keep on working, and eventually the jinx'll burn out.

Abstract Carnivore.

Okay, so I'd been mulling over a certain lack of inspiration in my world lately. There's been a diabolical amount of sameoldsameoldness about and it's been making me feel oddly stale, in a Must I do everything myself? sort of way.

Then a passing exchange on a messageboard serendipitously recalled this site, discovered in an idle hour then forgotten. Fool that I am! For it makes me a happy little mutant to behold it. And it has an excellent footnote* expounding the following defintion... "Time: An abstract carnivore; found at the top of the food chain."

I liked just looking at the instruments. They brought back happy memories of trying to play an eggslicer as a nipper. Now I have all these vague but happy thoughts involving musical found-object sculpture.

And life is good.



*I've always liked footnotes. Sometimes they're a pain in the bum, sure, but I like the way they let you go burrowing off in a totally different direction to the rest of the text. Wormholes in the 2-D space of the written word.

Hey, reader!

Tired of those pesky alien abductions? Tinfoil beanie just not working out for you? This site has the answer-- Velostat! Stopabductions.com gives you a Blue Peter-style guide to making your very own Though Shield Helmet. A satified Thought Shield Helmet user writes: “Since trying Michael Menkin’s Helmet, I have not been bothered by alien mind control. Now my thoughts are my own.I have achieved meaningful work and am contributing to society.My life is better than ever before.Thank you Michael for the work you are doing to save all humanity.”

Damn! I nicked a load of anti-static bags out the bin at one of my old jobs. I'm pretty sure they were Velostat. If I'd known that I could turn them into Thought Shield Helmets I'd've hung onto them. Could've made a fortune.

The part I liked best about this site was the Case Histories section...

November, 1999

Woman who reported abduction experiences as the type described by David Jacobs and Bud Hopkins. She said the alien brought her to orgasm by mental suggestion.

And she gets a helmet to stop this happening? Now we know she's crazy.

She reports complete success and has been wearing a helmet 24 hours a day for a year and a half. Her husband says she even bathes with it on.

Shampoo and conditioner? Not for this lady!

This woman was extremely traumatized by her abduction experience. Her husband had her hospitalized for several months when she insisted she was abducted.

%You don't say.% The question for me is what the heck she's doing out.

After wearing the helmet for several months she said she became much more stable and focused.

Uh huh. Someone should really have a word with the husband about all this. One of his freinds should swing an arm round his shoulders, steer him off out of earshot and then say "Look, mate, your missus is a great person, and we're all very fond of her. But-- DUDE! She's wearing a STATIC-SHIELDED HAT IN THE TUB! D'you not think your insurance would spring for just a wee bit longer in the psych ward?"

Boring stuff while I recharge my rant juice

Knackered. Weekend fairly productive-- still haven't finished that bloody article, but got scads of other writing done. Today was fun, in a quiet sort of way. Hit the swimming pool, all empty and melancholy under the cloudy skies, nothing in it but fallen leaves. By the time I get home from the Septic Isle they'll have closed it till next spring, so I'm getting as much use out of it as I can before then.

After that I went for a stroll in the woods. Lots of dry vegetation, poppy-heads, teasles. Saw several butterflies and an uncommon number of crickets. Then I took the train to the disturbingly large supermarket, where I bought groceries and a mammoth bumper book on tarot. Yes, I already own many many books on the Tarot but they're all in English and, more importantly, in England.

Still haven't found a magick shop in Barca. I know such an emporium must exist, but where? Google knows not, and the Paginas Amarrillas are silent. I'd ask my entities for help but I'm giving them a bit of a sabbatical.