Ok, a short rundown of the past week. In a very condensed fashion, because I gotta get out of here in a bit due to stuff.

* The MFA essay is going slower than molasses. Sweet, sweet molasses, but molasses non-the-less.

* I’ve been helping daddy-o out by spreading the awareness of his car catalogue far and wide through the tubes that make up the Internet. In the process I’ve stumbled upon some horrendous Internet pages I haven’t seen since Mosaic 1.2 back in -95, and I’ve noticed that some people don’t bother to show any contact info. It’s actually an interesting concept; Creating a very personal site and then hiding yourself from view. Then again, since I’m actually trying to get in touch with these people it’s annoying.

* Going for a job interview tomorrow regarding a two week stint at a warehouse. I’m so enthusiastic that I can hardly contain my joy and radiant happiness.

* Meeting up with Ann-Charlotte Glasberg tomorrow, who is the person who’s handling the essay thingy. And there’s this unnerving sense of shame at not having written more than the two-and-a-half pages of feces that I’ve put to print. I’ve been told that a man always has to be ready to perform, and it’s depressing. (although I might be taking that saying out of it’s proper context)

* There were some suggestion about a punk concert tomorrow evening? And beer? Neat!

* Christmas is coming. Here’s the upside of having divorced parents and a fractioned family: I don’t have to get gifts to everybody. Yay. The amount of IOU’s that I’ve given as a present over the years is ridiculous, and if I once get called on those I’m gonna be their bitch for three months and would prolly be required to quit smoking (mom actually has asked me for such an IOU).

Now I have to finish sending off a few emails, and then home to heat something. tea most likely. And watch Sopranos. There’s been a lot of that lately (Anna got hooked).

So I haven’t managed to write anything on the essay today. Basically, I’ve been helping my dad out with translations into English and coming up with a marketing plan for his new car catalogue. See, my dad is under the illusion that if you have the best product, it will win the battle for the marketplace. He’s such an honest capitalist that it hurts my blackened anarchist heart at times.

On my end of the capitalist spectrum, I’ve been looking for a pimp to whom I could offer my services. I.e. I’ve been looking at available jobs.

Let me illustrate the process and where I fail:

1: Web editor with graphic background. preferably be able to land a space shuttle using MySql, PHP, Pearl, while being a teamworker & customer-oriented.

2: Writer for a travelling website. We don’t respond to emails and you will work for nothing until you have three million readers.

3: Translator of shorter online telegrams. Unless you translated the original bible, or have a PhD in linear-B, don’t bother.

4: Guide at a museum. Service-oriented work. Must have served at least four (4) prime ministers as personal assistant. Retrospective at MoMa meriting

5: Storage worker. Organisational skills wanted. Only the top ten Tetris players in the world need apply. Drivers license. Truck license. MySql, PHP, Pearl guru.

6: Customer relations. Since you will be running around downtown with a ten litre thermos full with coffee, all we demand from you is your servitude and a rectum matched only by goatse. C++/Java a plus.

And here’s an alternative solution:

I got tired of writing on the essay yesterday, and with a numb brain I set about finishing the homepage of the Appropriate Christmas sound piece.

You are ordered welcome to spread the link to the homepage.

As always, feedback in encouraged.

—[from the homepage]—

The Appropriate Christmas is a audio mix of some 2400 christmas tracks that I’ve downloaded over the years. The collection is mostly compromised of albums published in the English speaking world, although there are exceptions. (most notably Swedish albums)

Having grown up with the image of Christmas being an all-family happy happening, I’m one of those people bitter about promises never fullfilled, presents never delivered, families never being what they should be. There’s a reason why the suicide rate is it’s highest during christmas, and maybe by listening to the ambience of christmas destilled it’s possible to get a distance to all the expectations. Or maybe it just further drives you into a delerium.

If anyone want’s me, I’ve been sitting in front of a screen most of the week, staring at pixels and letters that do not make sense, trying to write my essay.

To illustrate my progress:

In short, do not ask me how this is going.

As the evening turned out yesterday, I ended up in front of the tv to watch the space-launch of the first Swedish taikonaut. I’ve never watched all that many things live on TV (the reruns usually are edited better) but it was kinda neat to see the countdown start and then you get the ignition and the takeoff and boom and a lot of lights.

When the event wasn’t narrated by the space-groupies in the studio (“my company developed this space yoghurt. Try it!”), we sat and listened to space control at Kennedy space station. I’m curious how many millions they put in to get that static-sounding, very clippy sound. Gazzilions I imagine – it’s sort of part of the whole thing. if they actually would use regular microphones instead of the NASA brand noise phones half the experience would get lost.

Anyway. It was a blast (har).

And to brighten my evening I just heard that Augusto Pinochet just died in hospital, 91 years old.

Now, if we could just reanimate him and kill him a couple of more times, maybe take a collective shit on his face, well, then I might believe in karma. As it is, the fucker didn’t stand trial nor face the consequences of any of his actions.

The orbituaries are mentioning his dictatorship, the one million refugees, the economical boom. They are not telling of US/western support of him (maggy suck-my-crusty-ass thatcher?), but that might start showing up tomorrow.

He started to decompose with enough time for the editors to put together an interesting retrospect for the morning edition (although I’m quite sure they’ve had one laying around for a bit already). I might actually buy that.

goddam blasted viruses and bacterium! a pox on them!

they are treating my body as a time-sharing condo in the tropics; coming here to chill out for a week and try out fun activities. like “oh, let’s take the kids down the upper colon and frolic the afternoon away!”.

my throat and head is aching and at the moment i do more spitting than swallowing. ha. ha.

got told of by a customer for not being full of servitude service minded. that was actually a first, since usually my sense of service is rivaled only by my sense of doom. then again, i was tired and slightly hung over, so i chalk the whole thing down to being a miscommunication.

the past week has been full of either job-searching or working on the homepage for the appropriate christmas. much of both have focused on learning to love the windows box i’m at.

450 windows apps for different occasions:
ecosultant.com

online generators for your generating needs:
smashingmagazine.com

and yesterday i stumbled upon an illustrator with bredth: pbfcomics.com. dark and disturbing, i imagine you’d say to describe his comic strips.

i slept really well last night. standing in the shower i recall what i was dreaming about.

somehow, i had done the mafia some favours, and had gotten a check for 60 million SEK. i carried this check around and fell very lighthearted.

now. what do you think that i was going to do with all this money? in my dream, in what is supposed to be a bastion of the wild and unfettered imagination, what did i do with 60 million SEK? did i plan a trip to the moon or hire milla jovovich to sit on my face?

no. i was looking forward to paying my student loans, and my biggest concern was if i was supposed to pay tax on the money since they had originated from the mafia anyway.

so, to recoup: i am so boring right now that you cannot believe how boring i am. even my dreams are boring. seriously, stay away from me people, lest you catch whatever brain rot has me in it’s grip. i’m done for. think well of me when i’m gone or something.

1) Still no job at the horizon.
2) My lip has split again. The price you pay for a full & kissable mouth.
3) I drink too much coffee
4) Caught the great white hope on camera last weekend, but it took me all of three days to find a way for a windows application to convert the fucking 3gpp format, finally settling on quicktime pro:

Also, because of my rather bleak mood of late, I just wrote this cover of summertime: Now, hum along with me:

Wintertime,
and the weather is comparatively easy.
Money’s tight,
and your friends are getting high.

Your daddy’s not rich,
although mom looks good for her age.
So hush little inner child,
don’t you cry.

One of these late mornings / afternoons,
you’re going to rise up and fall back down.
Then you’ll puke all over yourself,
and hope to die

But til that late morning / afternoon
There’s nothing that urgently wants to harm you,
Although daddy and momma might hire a spy.

Wintertime,
and the weather is comparatively easy.
Money’s tight,
and your friends are getting high.

Your daddy’s not rich,
although mom looks good for her age.
So hush little inner child,
don’t you cry.

And to round things off:

* Poor, poor girl. Is it just me or do the terms “bukkake” and “Tub girl” spring to mind?
* Smokey the bear-like artist.
* For some reason, people think that these pictures won’t end up online somehow. Only one way to teach them to behave. Teach them good. It’s turning ever so slightly into that Monty Python skit “blackmail”.
* Tes, this is yet again my cup of coffee. Right now, somewhere, someone, is having more fun than I.
* I created an account on Second life the other day, but the computer that I’m on is so slow that I experience everything as a set of stills. If anyone would try to strike up a conversation with me, I would behave as the total newbie that I am and not be able to answer (most likely cause the lag would be punching the shit out of the computer).

Reminds me of whats-his-name who does the black and white etchings of dead children (same guy who did “a series of unfortunate events” maybe?).

Yes, I know it’s extremely lazy of me to post these vids instead of making any new content. But as usual, when you can’t make noise yourself, don’t be bothered by the other people making noise filling the void.

Or something. I don’t know. What the hell. I just had three bowls of lentil soup and am in a food coma and just want to go to sleep. So. There.