So, I was sort of going to write a totally different post, but, in light of the fires raging in my country and the government's reaction to the situation, I decided to copy here what is, for me, one of the best pages in my favourite webcomic, "Pictures of You".
It's called "Angry Letter to the Government #467"
Dear Government Stooge,
we have a problem to discuss. You take my money and then tell me how to live my life, and then you spend that money on hired goons who make it illegal for me not to pay you.
I have spent the better part of the last several years trying to think of an appropriate analogy for the nature of our wholly dysfunctional relationship.
My first thought was that of the mafia squeezing a local business owner for protection money, but then I recalled the injustice of having to give you my implied consent for your actions in the form of my vote.
The beauty pageant you laughingly refer to as the democratic process is an ingenious tool in reinforcing your delusion that your actions are righteous, and that I have in some way chosen you, or at least agreed to in some way.
I have come recently, though, to the realization that ours is an abusive marriage, and that you are liken to a husband who spends all my money, controls everything I do and tells me how I would be lost without you.
Every few years you buy flowers and promise you'll change, but as soon as I take you back, you're drinking the grocery money and telling me it's my fault when you can't find your car keys.
I am writing this letter to confess that I no longer believe it when you say you'll make dinner now and then or do the dishes or fix the toilet. I don't want to pick up your dirty socks anymore, and I have no desire to look the other way when you cheat on me.
In short, government, I want a divorce.
Sincerely yours,
Patrick Hogan
XOXO
*All the above is written by Gibson Twist, none belongs to me, though I share the sentiment more than I can say*
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Pictures of You...
I'm totally addicted to this webcomic, it's called Pictures of You - check it out!
Story is about a group of young students in a Canadian university and the way they interract with each other. The comic timing is perfect, the characters are flawless, the situations are completely real, the art is simple and eyecatching. Gibson Twist - author and artist - updates it about twice weekly, he's brilliant!
My fave is Patrick - wow, we are too similar, except I play electric guitar and not bass...
Hope you enjoy it as much as I do - I'm reading it repeatedly, daily, like a dose of medicine or something!
Story is about a group of young students in a Canadian university and the way they interract with each other. The comic timing is perfect, the characters are flawless, the situations are completely real, the art is simple and eyecatching. Gibson Twist - author and artist - updates it about twice weekly, he's brilliant!
My fave is Patrick - wow, we are too similar, except I play electric guitar and not bass...
Hope you enjoy it as much as I do - I'm reading it repeatedly, daily, like a dose of medicine or something!
Friday, August 7, 2009
For Katie...
We met almost twelve years ago now. You looked slightly bewildered, anxious, first time alone and away from home. I stalked you for a while, noting what you said and how you behaved and then came up and asked to be your friend. I had no idea just how precious you'd come to be to me or how much I'd grow to love you.
I was in a recuperating time then, building myself anew from my shards of self, deciding by smell who I'd be. You stood by me, bearing my darkness, lighting it with your smile, your naughtiness, your playfulness. And you'd casually bring a swift kick to my ass when I got too gothic and self-pitying for your taste.
You bore my anger, my sadness, my insanity, my fumbling around and you showed me love so effortlessly I was left gasping. Meeting you and your family showed me that there were decent, beautiful people out there.
Through the years we're together, we've weathered some really heavy crises, haven't we? Sickness, loss, changes, distance, life happening around us.
I changed personalities as you changed clothes, but I always felt safe doing so, knowing that you'd love the new me as you loved the old one, you'd accept the new me as you had accepted the old one, with no questions, as if everything is okay and inevitable.
You have no presumptions, no prejudices. You are the only one in this world who knows everything, everything about me. All my secrets. You are the only one I have allowed to see the secret core of me - and you were not repulsed.
During the last bad time we went through, as we sat on the deserted beach and you wept in my arms - so small you got lost in my embrace and, as I squeezed you close, I feared I'd break you if I wasn't careful - I wanted for God to exist, so I'd have someone to hate for your pain. Or for Nature to manifest herself in front of me so I could rip her heart out with my teeth.
You told me, in your despair, you thought of dying. I selfishly told you you couldn't, for where would that leave me? I love you so much, I can't be altruistic. Forgive me for that, my friend.
But now, the darkness has passed and you are happy again. And tomorrow, you are getting engaged to the man of your choice, the man I have grown to love as well, seeing him through your eyes.
I hope he knows what a lucky bastard he is. I hope he treats you as you deserve to be treated. I hope you are always ridiculously happy together, so I can tease you when you get all starry-eyed talking about him.
My friend, thank you. I love you. I wish you joy. I wish you health, but that is too little to contain how I feel about you.
What I really wish for is for the universe to get its thumb out of its ass and start revolving around you, like it's supposed to.
I was in a recuperating time then, building myself anew from my shards of self, deciding by smell who I'd be. You stood by me, bearing my darkness, lighting it with your smile, your naughtiness, your playfulness. And you'd casually bring a swift kick to my ass when I got too gothic and self-pitying for your taste.
You bore my anger, my sadness, my insanity, my fumbling around and you showed me love so effortlessly I was left gasping. Meeting you and your family showed me that there were decent, beautiful people out there.
Through the years we're together, we've weathered some really heavy crises, haven't we? Sickness, loss, changes, distance, life happening around us.
I changed personalities as you changed clothes, but I always felt safe doing so, knowing that you'd love the new me as you loved the old one, you'd accept the new me as you had accepted the old one, with no questions, as if everything is okay and inevitable.
You have no presumptions, no prejudices. You are the only one in this world who knows everything, everything about me. All my secrets. You are the only one I have allowed to see the secret core of me - and you were not repulsed.
During the last bad time we went through, as we sat on the deserted beach and you wept in my arms - so small you got lost in my embrace and, as I squeezed you close, I feared I'd break you if I wasn't careful - I wanted for God to exist, so I'd have someone to hate for your pain. Or for Nature to manifest herself in front of me so I could rip her heart out with my teeth.
You told me, in your despair, you thought of dying. I selfishly told you you couldn't, for where would that leave me? I love you so much, I can't be altruistic. Forgive me for that, my friend.
But now, the darkness has passed and you are happy again. And tomorrow, you are getting engaged to the man of your choice, the man I have grown to love as well, seeing him through your eyes.
I hope he knows what a lucky bastard he is. I hope he treats you as you deserve to be treated. I hope you are always ridiculously happy together, so I can tease you when you get all starry-eyed talking about him.
My friend, thank you. I love you. I wish you joy. I wish you health, but that is too little to contain how I feel about you.
What I really wish for is for the universe to get its thumb out of its ass and start revolving around you, like it's supposed to.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
10 people I'd like to meet - a bunny challenge
A friend and blogger issued a request through this post of his (warning: it's not in English) asking us to write a post on the people we'd like to meet. Dead people are not exempt.
So, writing them down in the order the names popped in my head...
1) JRR Tolkien
If I had to rescue one book from my burning apartment, it'd be The Lord of the Rings... It helped me through a rough patch in my life, when my very sanity was in question.
Strangely enough, my favourite is The Silmarillion, as I feel it's more grown up.
I'd just want to hang out with professor Tolkien, share a smoke and listen to any story from his life or his mind...
2) Jimmy Page
The Guitar God. I worship the polished shoes off his feet. My electric guitar is called Jimmy after him. If I learn every Led Zeppelin song, I'll die a content Overlord...
I love the fact that, although he's a poseur of poseurs, he's so in a really nonchalant way, like "This is who I am, I don't have to throw a fucking orgasmic fit on stage to capture the audience - I am the fucking man"
Watch a solo, of "White Summer, Black Mountain side" here - he's 26 years old...
3) Howlin' Wolf
Blues! Bluuuueeeeesss!! I fucking love blues, I fucking adore this guy! That his Rocking Chair album inspired Led Zep is only a small part of his appeal. What a voice! Like gravel rubbing on your skin.
Respect, man!
Watch him playing and talking about blues here.
4) David Mack
The creator of Kabuki, one of my favourite comics. He changes style with each issue, from black-and-white to abstract colour to origami to collage - and he's flawless in every single one!
I'd talk comic creation and martial arts with him...then steal rare Kabuki art from his house...
5) Neil Gaiman
Now this one is the writer of my most favourite comic - The Sandman. If you've not read it yet, I'll find you and spank you. Really. He's absolutely brilliant. He writes books and poems, children stories and scripts and, of course, comics.
His head must be bursting with words. I'd love to see that, and maybe hang out at his house, pet his cats and talk humanity and dreams.
6) Dave Brock
The founder, guitarist and vocalist of Hawkwind. Let me... *puffs on a huge spliff*...wow...what?.. Oh, yeah, Hawkwind... Heheh, cool, man... *punches face to compose self* According to all reports, the amount of drugs comsumed by Hawkwind back in the '60s-'70s was epic. Their music is mind-blowing and mind-fucking prog rock.
Questions I'd pose: how the fuck did you survive? Just how big were Stacia's boobs? How's things back in the homeplanet?.. Then we'd play guitar and lie on the grass... Far out...
Watch "Silver Machine" here.
7) Manic Street Preachers
Yeah, yeah, 'cause I have deep thoughts about where this world is going, too, dontcha know? Seriously, though, I dig their dedication to their beliefs and their tendency to blithely kick the nuts of the political/religious/whatever arseholes of this world...(the anatomical possibility of this last phrase intrigues me)...
If I could meet only one of them, it'd be Nicky Wire - I just bet we'd find something to argue very loudly about in the very first minute.
Watch "If you tolerate this, then your children will be next" here.
8) Yun Kouga
The mangaka of Loveless, one of my favourite manga.
She made me cry, that bitch... *sniff*...*punches self again* She is really, really good, she really understands her characters psychology and flaws and plays around with their souls, their hearts, with words, dreams, trust, truth and everything else.
I'd slap her for one particular scene, then kiss her dainty feet.
9) Alexander the Great
Okay, okay, I know, wtf, right? But he's my childhood hero, people. I've always loved him and, in this case, I mean always - can't remember a time when I didn't. Must be my previous life as Hephaestion or something creeping up on me, hahaha!
I'd first stop him from getting totally smashed (put that fucking goblet down, idiot) and then talk about his dreams and thoughts on humans.
10)Robert Frost
I hate long, winding poems with big, pretentious words or deep meanings which you have to have a PhD in literature - or know the poet personally - to get. For me, poems are feelings and images jumping up from the written page. And this is why I like this guy so much. His poems are simple, sometimes childishly so, but they feel true. And I worship the melancholy in them.
My favourite lines from "Stopping by woods on a snowy evening":
The woods are lovely, dark and deep
but I have promises to keep
And miles to go before I sleep
And miles to go before I sleep
I heard him do a reading of that and got shivers at the sadness and tiredness of his voice.
So, that's my top ten people as things stand right now. For any developments, I'll notify at once... Promise...
Oh, and, some pics do not have links to the page I got them from - I had saved them in my computer loooooong ago and I've forgotten. Apologies!
So, writing them down in the order the names popped in my head...
1) JRR Tolkien
If I had to rescue one book from my burning apartment, it'd be The Lord of the Rings... It helped me through a rough patch in my life, when my very sanity was in question.
Strangely enough, my favourite is The Silmarillion, as I feel it's more grown up.
I'd just want to hang out with professor Tolkien, share a smoke and listen to any story from his life or his mind...
2) Jimmy Page
The Guitar God. I worship the polished shoes off his feet. My electric guitar is called Jimmy after him. If I learn every Led Zeppelin song, I'll die a content Overlord...
I love the fact that, although he's a poseur of poseurs, he's so in a really nonchalant way, like "This is who I am, I don't have to throw a fucking orgasmic fit on stage to capture the audience - I am the fucking man"
Watch a solo, of "White Summer, Black Mountain side" here - he's 26 years old...
3) Howlin' Wolf
Blues! Bluuuueeeeesss!! I fucking love blues, I fucking adore this guy! That his Rocking Chair album inspired Led Zep is only a small part of his appeal. What a voice! Like gravel rubbing on your skin.
Respect, man!
Watch him playing and talking about blues here.
4) David Mack
The creator of Kabuki, one of my favourite comics. He changes style with each issue, from black-and-white to abstract colour to origami to collage - and he's flawless in every single one!
I'd talk comic creation and martial arts with him...then steal rare Kabuki art from his house...
5) Neil Gaiman
Now this one is the writer of my most favourite comic - The Sandman. If you've not read it yet, I'll find you and spank you. Really. He's absolutely brilliant. He writes books and poems, children stories and scripts and, of course, comics.
Neil Gaiman pic here
His head must be bursting with words. I'd love to see that, and maybe hang out at his house, pet his cats and talk humanity and dreams.
6) Dave Brock
The founder, guitarist and vocalist of Hawkwind. Let me... *puffs on a huge spliff*...wow...what?.. Oh, yeah, Hawkwind... Heheh, cool, man... *punches face to compose self* According to all reports, the amount of drugs comsumed by Hawkwind back in the '60s-'70s was epic. Their music is mind-blowing and mind-fucking prog rock.
Questions I'd pose: how the fuck did you survive? Just how big were Stacia's boobs? How's things back in the homeplanet?.. Then we'd play guitar and lie on the grass... Far out...
Watch "Silver Machine" here.
7) Manic Street Preachers
Yeah, yeah, 'cause I have deep thoughts about where this world is going, too, dontcha know? Seriously, though, I dig their dedication to their beliefs and their tendency to blithely kick the nuts of the political/religious/whatever arseholes of this world...(the anatomical possibility of this last phrase intrigues me)...
If I could meet only one of them, it'd be Nicky Wire - I just bet we'd find something to argue very loudly about in the very first minute.
Watch "If you tolerate this, then your children will be next" here.
8) Yun Kouga
The mangaka of Loveless, one of my favourite manga.
She made me cry, that bitch... *sniff*...*punches self again* She is really, really good, she really understands her characters psychology and flaws and plays around with their souls, their hearts, with words, dreams, trust, truth and everything else.
I'd slap her for one particular scene, then kiss her dainty feet.
9) Alexander the Great
Okay, okay, I know, wtf, right? But he's my childhood hero, people. I've always loved him and, in this case, I mean always - can't remember a time when I didn't. Must be my previous life as Hephaestion or something creeping up on me, hahaha!
I'd first stop him from getting totally smashed (put that fucking goblet down, idiot) and then talk about his dreams and thoughts on humans.
10)Robert Frost
I hate long, winding poems with big, pretentious words or deep meanings which you have to have a PhD in literature - or know the poet personally - to get. For me, poems are feelings and images jumping up from the written page. And this is why I like this guy so much. His poems are simple, sometimes childishly so, but they feel true. And I worship the melancholy in them.
My favourite lines from "Stopping by woods on a snowy evening":
The woods are lovely, dark and deep
but I have promises to keep
And miles to go before I sleep
And miles to go before I sleep
I heard him do a reading of that and got shivers at the sadness and tiredness of his voice.
So, that's my top ten people as things stand right now. For any developments, I'll notify at once... Promise...
Oh, and, some pics do not have links to the page I got them from - I had saved them in my computer loooooong ago and I've forgotten. Apologies!
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Body talk
---Note: inspired by a recent talk with friends, could also have been called "A love declaration to human body", but that's too long a title...---
My mom and dad never hid their bodies from us.
The bathroom door in our house never locked and was, indeed, often left ajar. It was very, very natural for all four of us to be in the bathroom at once - one taking a shower (without a curtain, mum had watched Psycho, so shower curtains were a no-no), one peeing or pooing or whatever and the other two just hanging out and talking.
My brother and I, we always shared a bedroom. We took showers together even until we were well in our teens.
So, the human body held no mysteries for us and we never associated anything shameful with nudity - it was something natural.
I was always an active person - did track and field in high school, then self-taught yoga, then kung-fu. I had no problem stripping before others in the changing rooms and could not comprehend their blushes and desperate attempts to hide themselves when they had to do so as well.
My body is not perfect in any way. When I was small, I was ever scarred and scabbed and had a tummy and round cheeks. I was thin to a scary point in my mid-teens (bad time all around, that). Chubby for a year in England. Toneless afterwards. Very toned and sinewy at kung-fu. Currently wiry. I loved it every way. All I ask of my body is to obey my commands. When it doesn't, it's simply time for training...
Human body is fascinating. There has never been a single person I've met that I've not loved at least one body characteristic of his/hers.
I love smelling skin, kissing it and feeling its texture. I love its warmth. In more intimate moments, its taste, its sensitivity.
I adore scars. They show what a body has gone through, testaments to its history. I love how they mar perfection and yet beautify at the same time. I love the difference in the way they feel against my lips or tongue.
Other things that appeal to me: a relaxed hand. A pair of sparkling eyes. A wicked smile. Fingers absently brushing hair away from a face. A clean smell - no heavy perfume, please (gah!!). Veins showing under the skin. Curled toes. Healing scabs. An arched neck. An arched back. Any childish gesture, like puffing cheeks, rubbing eyes with fists etc. A low, melodious voice. A purr. A confident walk. A proud toss of the head...
Wow wow wow, humans are just so fucking beautiful! And to think that so many of them don't even realize it! I get it, really, I do in a way, but I don't get it, you know?..
Maybe I'm just too pagan for my own good or something, heh!
My mom and dad never hid their bodies from us.
The bathroom door in our house never locked and was, indeed, often left ajar. It was very, very natural for all four of us to be in the bathroom at once - one taking a shower (without a curtain, mum had watched Psycho, so shower curtains were a no-no), one peeing or pooing or whatever and the other two just hanging out and talking.
My brother and I, we always shared a bedroom. We took showers together even until we were well in our teens.
So, the human body held no mysteries for us and we never associated anything shameful with nudity - it was something natural.
I was always an active person - did track and field in high school, then self-taught yoga, then kung-fu. I had no problem stripping before others in the changing rooms and could not comprehend their blushes and desperate attempts to hide themselves when they had to do so as well.
My body is not perfect in any way. When I was small, I was ever scarred and scabbed and had a tummy and round cheeks. I was thin to a scary point in my mid-teens (bad time all around, that). Chubby for a year in England. Toneless afterwards. Very toned and sinewy at kung-fu. Currently wiry. I loved it every way. All I ask of my body is to obey my commands. When it doesn't, it's simply time for training...
Human body is fascinating. There has never been a single person I've met that I've not loved at least one body characteristic of his/hers.
I love smelling skin, kissing it and feeling its texture. I love its warmth. In more intimate moments, its taste, its sensitivity.
I adore scars. They show what a body has gone through, testaments to its history. I love how they mar perfection and yet beautify at the same time. I love the difference in the way they feel against my lips or tongue.
Other things that appeal to me: a relaxed hand. A pair of sparkling eyes. A wicked smile. Fingers absently brushing hair away from a face. A clean smell - no heavy perfume, please (gah!!). Veins showing under the skin. Curled toes. Healing scabs. An arched neck. An arched back. Any childish gesture, like puffing cheeks, rubbing eyes with fists etc. A low, melodious voice. A purr. A confident walk. A proud toss of the head...
Wow wow wow, humans are just so fucking beautiful! And to think that so many of them don't even realize it! I get it, really, I do in a way, but I don't get it, you know?..
Maybe I'm just too pagan for my own good or something, heh!
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