Ideals

I found a piece of paper inside a random 2nd hand record sleeve once. It's been lying around the place recently and I wanted to share it, it's pretty cool.


As you think, you travel; as you love you attract. You are today where your thoughts brought you, you will be tomorrow where your thoughts take you. You cannot escape the result of your thoughts, but you can endure and learn, can accept and be glad. You will realise the vision (not the idle wish) of your heart, be it base or beautiful, or a mixture of both for you will always gravitate toward that which you secretly most love. Into your hands will be placed the exact results of you thoughts; you will receive that which you earn; no more and no less. Whatever your present environment may be, you will fall, remain or rise with your thoughts, your vision, your ideal. You will become as small as your controlling desire; as great as your dominant inspiration. -James Allen

The Toast Continuum

I was just eating some toast with the old mouth. You know the feeling, I'm sure? Trusty peanut butter on toast. Can't go wrong (unless there are caterpillars in your peanut butter, not to mention it's not peanut butter, it's treebutt gutter - and the toast is made from flour ground from giraffe bones, then toasted between two burning cars...). Anyway, during this particular toast session (it happens occasionally) I looked down and there was only a morsel left! Now now I thought, this is totally unfair - I don't even remember eating the other piece! I felt that maybe I had slipped through a wormhole, or maybe the almighty Toasterer** had switched host bodies for a wee indulgence session.. Now I realise this is unfair, but that's just the reality of it - so let's not think of toast session as having an end, let's instead start "The Toast Continuum". This is where the toast keeps flowing and it's no longer a session, but a way of life. This is merely a concept on paper, a fish in the oven, some flour in the bakery, a banana seed in Ecuador, a crustacean in the sea, a dollar in the savings account. Imagine it - toast:life, we could probably do a lot more with toast than just eat it also. I can imagine the possibility of just looking at toast, sitting there, all alone. Well.... I'd be alone, because I drove everyone away with my unwavering vision for toast future (well.... definitely wasn't the napkins.... they're real antiques and we told them a lot of interesting facts about those), but the toast would have all it's toast friends around, hanging out. Ahhhhhh. What a beautiful place that would be....


**The Toasterer is kind of like a God - or a spirit, the spirit of Toast. He is married to the Toastess and they live in a wee two-slice toaster in a secluded spot out of town. Well the Toasterer needs his fill of toast, but no longer has a physical body, so he infiltrates other peoples bodies and takes over consciousness when they're eating toast, which results in the host body being a bit surprised that they only have a morsel left.

Lazy Yak, Get a Haircut!

When I was little I asked where God was, because I definitely couldn't see this person I'd heard people talking about. I was told God was everywhere, and when I asked if he was also inside my ear, I was assured that indeed this was the case. Hmmm. Another curious thing, I was told the other day by Redshirt Bighair [name suppressed for personal safety reasons beyond hurting teeth on over-burnt toast] that God is actually a yak! A hairy yak. Put yak and ears together and voila, I have a god-yak in my ears. I hope he doesn't god-yak-piss in there. That's probably what ear wax is, dried up god-yak piss. Disgusting. We deduced that God yak (who Redshirt Bighair called Steve) had not had a haircut for a while, and so although the actual god-yak wasn't inside my ears - his silken god-locks were. That would explain why I can't hear very well. I'd snip those locks myself in an instant, but normal scissors won't do the trick, only god-rated scissors will do. I think we can safely assume that the god hairdressers are pretty booked up with those Egyptian gods, they seem to keep pretty tidy and seem very conscious of their appearance - keeping skin supple by bathing in ass milk and all. You know, the milk that comes out of asses. So we're not in for perfect hearing for a few millennia yet I'd imagine, unless someone makes some god-rated scissors. Lazy yaks these days...

P.S. This also applies to non god-yaks, just your everyday common yaks. I'm just singling out the yak that has his hair in my ears. Probably my sandwich too. Poor sandwich, all she wants is to be at one with her fillings! See what I did there, I made it female. Just like that, peow! Oh I'm feeling the power.

Old Grouchy eh.

Sitting atop a foolish hill,
Thinking of Winston the window sill,
It occurred to me I hadn't been posting for weeks,
I'd lose any momentum and any subscribing freaks!

With this in mind I set forth for the sea,
For Faraday the Fish would surely help me!
But when I arrived Faraday I could not find!
No fish knew of him - he was all in my mind!

I was lost and distraught like a rejected green mouse,
I searched for his number in case he'd moved house...

Faraday the Fish was nothing but a name,
In a rhyme I wrote on my couch.
I got sucked in by the story and I felt rather lame,
So I rang a Peasant named Grouch.

Grouch had his ups, and he also had his downs.
Just thought I'd let you know. Old Grouchy. Yeahh!

Large Flying Creatures called Terry.

Not sure what to write. I get that when I'm tired, then writing always brings out something. Like talking about how I can't think of anything to write, except then I'm writing something. It's like a murder of crows. Not at all actually, but I wanted to say that.

I found the largest ever flying animal the other day. Now I realize that statement could be a little misleading - I'm not claiming to have found it's bones, I just found it on the internet. It was lying amongst an article about Pterasaurs on Wikipedia. It's wingspan was a colossal 12 meters, that's fucking huge! It didn't even fit on my screen! Wow. They were like huge flying lizards with tails. Imagine that - a bird whose single wing is 4 times as long as you, or 10 times as long as a meter ruler which has had 40cm taken off it. That's a lot of broken rulers in a row. I couldn't imagine it trying to make a nest, the twigs wouldn't hold many creatures. I suppose it would lived inside a cave, without a TV, no internet, no stereo - just the sounds of nature (chirping birds, animals crying out in pain as their bones get crunched by predators, bloodthirsty roars, wind whistling through the bones of last nights dinner etc). What a purist this beast was. Keepin it real.

There's actually been two sightings of a pterosaur in recent times - one in 1944 by a soldier in Papua New Guinea, and one in 1971 by a psychologist (I think) in an island just off PNG. Not quite sure what's going on there! The natives even have a name for them: ropen. Bit of a lackluster name if you ask me. What's wrong with something a bit more trad, such as 'Daniel', or 'Steve'. Or, a more fitting name such as Terry - Terry the Terrible Pterosaur (as in he's not very good at being one). Bit more catchy don't you think? Let me know if you have a better name for prehistoric flying lizards that still live among us....

I actually think ropen sounds quite medieval, or like a character out of Lord of the Rings or something. But it's more fun saying it's shit. I had fun anyway. So there.

Should we be upside-down more often?

I was thinking today - what if being upright wasn't particularly good for us? Does doing handstands often give a more even body balance? Maybe standing on your head does wonders for your insides, loosening up old dirt and grime and shaking it to the floor. I am no weirdo, and I'm not about to embark on a lifelong diet of wood chips, fish scales, essence of lizard, and making sure I only breath the finest filtered air available through a severed elephant trunk to further my existence by a few months (which would be a much more miserable one by then! Damn lizard essence) - but I am curious and like to ponder things in depth.

So I was thinking, what percentage of your life would you be upside down? (We'll cast aside sleeping as that is horizontal, and you probably do a fair bit of innard mixing in that position anyway.) Would it be half your life, to ensure a decent mix? if so how would choose your switch over times? Would it be one week walking on your head, one week on your legs? Or would it be the slightly hilarious but more efficient 5 second switcharoo? Personally I think a short time of a few seconds would be excellent - giving not only a good mix but also building fitness and reducing obesity. Also there would be added bonuses of a feeling of unification amongst people, that adds to the community feel; amusement wherever you look (at the different techniques and odd situations); increase you acrobatic skill and flexibility.

I think this is a truly excellent idea. You may be thinking 'Golly that sounds awfully difficult Faraday!' (That's if you have an imaginary friend inside your brain named Faraday) - but I mean really, everything is hard until you can do it right? I think you're just lazy and don't want to learn. Learning sucks you say? Well, prepare to fail in life. Take that.

The Sun is Too Bright, and Rabbit Water is Delicious.

What a beautiful day it was today. Although I do wish we could see stars and planets during the daytime as well. Of course we can see one star - the Sun - but it's quite unpleasant to look at because it's so fricken bright. I say the Sun is too bright, where are the crazy Russians when you need them? We want sunglasses for the Earth dammit! Or at least a dimmer. What does it think it's doing anyway, sentencing everyone who looks at it to blindness. Actually that's not true, when I was eleven I once looked straight at the Sun for about 10 minutes. It went from hurting my eyes to quite a hypnotic experience, turning into a small white disc while everything else faded away to blackness around it. Pretty cool. Afterwards I had a huge hole in the center of my vision for about an hour or so, but nothing I couldn't work around. It's probably bad on some level so that's why I thought I'd share my experience - so you wouldn't have to do it yourself. I am not blind but am a little shortsighted, which is probably not at all related to sun-staring. Nat jokes about me being blind, I say she's just mean to people with disabilities. It's only a matter of time before she pokes fun at people in wheelchairs, challenging them to jumping competitions.

P.S. When we were little my brother James and I drank out of a rabbit hutch water dispenser (while it was still positioned on the hutch door), I think we wanted to know if it worked alright. Routine testing and maintenance I suppose you could call it. The mechanism is very effective from memory, it was nice water too. Since I was young I didn't think about rabbits having feelings, they must have been a bit pissed off. Also our mum was angry at us and I didn't really know why - I suppose we could have got a rabbit illness.
James thanked me for the memory when I brought it up, although I'm not sure he was sincere.

P.P.S. If anyone is interested in why I called upon the Russians for global dimming options click the link on "crazy Russians" further up. They once wanted to make a huge mirror in space to light up the dark side of the Earth and have eternal daytime. Bizarre huh. That article is from 1993, because later articles only explain how they tested it and failed miserably.

Crazy Demographics vid!!

Watch this till the end, it's pretty mind blowing. I got it off a teacher from a school I teach piano at so you can download here in .wmv format.
I searched youtube for it and a few versions came up - mostly the different music struck me. Some were ambient electronic bleeps and pads, there was one with a guitar and someone singing although I didn't like the sound of it, and some more electronic sounding music with beats. I chose the stand-out cross between Riverdance and Lord of the Rings. It struck me as strange they might use jig music for this kind of thing, but it sure makes the whole thing seem pretty epic. Probably a lot more so than if you just watched. I haven't tried jigging while watching it yet, or learning the fiddle to get more insight either. I also haven't tried strapping the laptop to my face while skateboarding down a large hill toward a herd of evil nuns with black eyes and a love for lacy white curtains - that would probably make it seem very intense and increase the impact of the video. It's all about the watching environment, hence the Riverdance/Lord of the Rings mash-up.

Enjoy!

Look where you're walking Chuck Storm!

No matter how many times I tell him, he always walks into that sign/pole/robotic arm dangling from the sky offering pizza. Maybe if enough people watch it he will stop doing it. I like the way he says 'oh god', the voice has a bit of a shake to it. Haha! I like the little shake. Poor Chuck Storm. Sweet name huh!

I found this over at Geekologie, one of my favourite places to visit on the net. Every day ridiculous inventions and ideas never fail to amuse/amaze/astonish/astound/allure/asinter me (that last one was made up). Go there and be entertained.

I'm about to eat Japanese Curry. Yum scrum.

Paprika Power (a mighty fine story)

Prologue

Sword Attorney - the police are coming to banish us from observing the habitat of garish shirts on people with coffee addictions! Ah well, I guess it could be worse - we could be fishing for goats surrounded in deep forest encrusted with interestingly shaped rocks.... yesterdays news but still gets me every time (although I think it might just be decoration).

To return to the matter at hand: I think our situation is quite stable here. You see, we've gained information from countless slightly-shrivelled (but still green) leafy leaf biscuits (made from leaves, may contain traces of leaves) (with Scurglydiggle's signature folks! ah, dearest Scurglydiggle), and.... oops.

Have courage with that scratched, beaten (but shiny because I washed it see, I washed it) can of Coca-Cola.

*********************************************************************

The main bit

The conversation that changes lives starts with frowning upon handicapped pigeons....

Picture Time! Box Worms.

These worms have it sorted:
• Cardboard boxes = free
• Heat protecting varnish = free from the local heat protecting varnish fountain
• No pesky marshmallows = free
• Logs for the fire = free. Only the trees paid for it with their life. No one really cares about trees anyway. Otherwise you couldn't live in a wooden house without feeling extremely awful.
• Flames = $250 because they could afford a fancy lighter (since they saved on pesky food!)
• Conversation = free folks - it's free to talk to worms.
• Maths degree for Worm 1 = Worms don't go to university, they are naturally enthused by learning. You wouldn't know that though, as their social skills when it comes to humans is somewhat less than desirable.
• Quality fire-proof-box-by-the-fire time with fellow quality worm = priceless.

Pesky Food

Feeling hungry. What a scam huh? I fed my body only a few hours ago and it's wanting more. I mean I know it gives me energy and warmth back but to constantly demand being fed is rather unfair I think. I don't constantly demand warmth and energy - in fact I never asked for these things. I'd rather buy a furry blanket for $50 that would keep me warm for years than spend $50 every few days on food. I mean I like eating, but it could be just an addiction. Maybe someone could ween themselves off food completely, eventually not having to depend on it whatsoever. Is food the most addictive drug out there - and the most cleverly thought out? Everyone 'needs' it to survive supposedly, it costs loads, and it grows out of the ground for free! Why not sit outside and absorb the sun's energy? Obviously this is a stupid idea, please do not try it. I refuse to be held responsible for you shrivelling up like a depressed raisin and dying.

JAH, PASTAFARI!

Pasta Man free download.

This is quite a silly song. I made a beat and was in stupid mood so I picked up the mic and freestyled probably the most awful verse you will ever hear. I am by no means an MC. I am a man who loves his pasta and should stay away from microphones! However it was fun, and since making it available for download on my MySpace I have heard it on Radio Active three times which was hilarious and cool at the same time. So here's a high quality 320kb/s MP3 for you all.

I AM THE PASTA MAN!! (you must say it in a rasta voice).

Enjoy!

Nothing To Say, Except.....

I'm tired.
Language is a funny thing.
Written form... Spoken form... Thought form... I wonder if cows think in moos? Or elephants in enormous-totally-over-the-top sneeze type sounds. What a ridiculous language they have. I mean really - how unnecessary and inconsiderate can you get? There's probably some poor quiet flies chillin around doing the Random Zig Zag Zen Float Manoeuvre, and this old elephant has just GOT to say hi to his buddy 4 kilometers away with his silly nose (which looks like a dead persons arm that has had the bones removed and some kind of futuristic ergonomic vacuum cleaner nozzle instead of a hand on the end, and of course an elephant instead of a person on the other end). Honestly I don't hate elephants, they seem quite nice on the television and it'd be cool to go and ride on one somewhere sometime, I was just enjoying having a rant.

I've been teaching a lot of piano to a lot of small children you see - that's what got me thinking of the language thing. Teaching music is like teaching another language, because you have the written form which is sheet music and the spoken form which is whatever instrument making noise. I was contemplating this today. Nothing came of it other than now I tell the kids I'm teaching them a different language, except it's way easier than English cos the alphabet only goes up to G! They like that. Some kid last week kept on going on about zombies, and after deciding they weren't real, he confessed that mummys WERE real. Apparently it's just like in the movies. What a noob.

Keeping it short like a fleas nipple tonight cos I gotta get up early. . . Except once I sit down and start typing I don't really stop until I think that I've rambled far too much and hit 'publish post' before it's too late. I wonder if you typed forever and ever, just thoughts flowing onto paper - I wonder if a machine could analyze it and model bits of your brain on it, then you could give it a word limit and get it to do virtual-you rambles? What would that do anyway - I suppose not much. Except it could be good if you got really old and died but wanted to have a good old ramble to your great-great-great-great-grandchildren. They could sit there in front of a replica of your head with projectors in your bot-eyes, and it could project words onto the wall as a silent option just in case other people are sleeping, or it could do regular talking with adjustable volume and creepy robotic prosthetic facial expressions. It could be amazing. Or strange. I suppose it could be both also.

Ok, the cat has jumped in front of my face. Silly cat. What has it got to live for anyway? All it does it eat and sleep. Why all this walking around? Why jumping? So it can get to a different position and sit there. Now there's a cat with purpose. At least do some cleaning, or get the post every so often.

I started a blog, here's something.

Ello.

Here you might find stories, new music from me, and general ramblings. Maybe some pictures and links.

I have thought about starting a blog for a while now - I like sitting and typing (more than writing with my hands, actually). When I write I use my left hand - although I learnt I can handwrite backwards with my right hand to be read in the mirror, try it! But when I type all of a sudden I'm not left-handed anymore.... I'm light handed, which is left and right combined. So as well as light handed sounding cool like a jedi, I spread the work between both hands so neither feels overworked or unfairly treated. That's how I roll.

So I think I'll write some stories here. They will probably be a little strange because I am terrible at writing proper stories. I always miss bits out and have to say them later and am quite the opposite of concise. Hopefully as I write more I will improve. One way of writing I find interesting is trying to think of completely different subjects every so often, sometimes every word.

So you might be thinking, for instance:
'Nice wooden table'. So you write 'Nice'.
Then maybe 'boiling kettle': 'Nice boiling'.
Then maybe 'hungry cow'. We must finish it of sometime so we'll skip the adjective and jump to the verb: 'Nice boiling cow'.
...and an edit: 'Nice boiling hat-cow'.

Now that kind of thing gives me that laughy feeling, it's something which I wouldn't have thought of straight out so it's like someone else said it which would be hilarious. It doesn't all have to be like that, but I like doing it sometimes. Maybe Boiling Hat-Cow's are prestigious breed, and someone is sincerely complimenting their friend on how nice it is. Very nice Hat-Cow of the Boiling variety sir, it really understands things like Steve the sink does.

Shit, that's it - I'm naming our sink Steve. I have to tell Nat when she gets home so she doesn't offend him! Steve is a bit of a cripple you see, he's got some major cracks and he leaks a bit. I suppose humans leak a bit too, so he's not alone. Putting water in a human is as fruitless as a piece of rubbish - it'll never stay.

I'm also going to post some tunes here when I write some.