Okay y’all, I don’t usually do this, but I have a couple of links for you:

http://dilbertblog.typepad.com/the_dilbert_blog/2006/04/uhoh.html

Firstly, a very topical (and scarily coincidental) blog entry on the Dilbert Blog about the mistakes that have been made in the transcription and transliteration and re-writing and re-recording of the Bible over the last zillion years (you’ll find out why this is so topical in a moment.)

Aaaaand (Drum roll please)…..

http://www.apple.com/trailers/fox/thesimpsonsmovie/

The Simpsons Movie!!! Omg! July 27th 2007! How do they know that? Or is that just a made-up date, like how they told us we’d be moving into Brisbane Square in June but now they’re making a conservative estimate (AKA stupid guess) of September? I don’t even really care about the new building, I just want a new computer and XP! (anything has got to be better than crappy Windows 97 or NT). But yeah, the Simpsons movie! wow! Awesome!

So anyways, back to the first point… Today (Good Friday) we visited the Buddhist Temple out at Underwood. It was beautiful, I was disappointed that my camera still hasn’t arrived back from the insurance people (they said it might be here Thursday or Friday, but as Friday is today and it’s a public holiday, my last chance before the long weekend was yesterday) because from the very first moment that you drive through the gates you feel like you’ve stepped into another country — perhaps Tibet… There are grey stone statues lining the drive, and the actual temple rises high above rows of steps bordered on either side by carefully manicured trees and clear fountains (no water restrictions?!). It’s just beautiful. There’s an aura of calm that surrounds the whole place. Everything is clean, peaceful and quiet.

Our friend used to be the gardener there, which was a huge job as the gardens are very important. They weren’t so impressive today… it looked like a war zone in which only the Temple Building remained unscathed. They’re apparently doing renovations and re-landscaping the gardens as well. I want to go back and see once they’re finished.

Noelle & I were wandering around and noticed Clare talking to some random guy at the entrance to the main worship room. I said, “who’s that guy?” And Noelle said she doesn’t ask questions like that anymore. I was curious, so we wandered over that way, and surreptitiously stood by until we became a part of the conversation. The first words I heard of the conversation were from Clare, and that was “So it’s magic.” The man she was talking to gave a non-committal, non-word answer before Clare said “Well, if it’s magic, then how can it be proven?”. I thought the man was a Buddhist, but what they were saying didn’t really fit and so I listened in a while longer and it soon enough became clear that the man wasn’t a Buddhist, he was a Born-Again christian. He then started talking about how Born-Again Christians were not humans, they were a different creature all together. He said he was two beings – a human and a spirit, in the one body. Then he said that when the holy spirit first entered him, he spoke in tongues. Apparently everyone in their church spoke in tongues when they were first ‘re-baptised’. He also explained that he could think and speak at the same time, and, according to him, no other human being on the planet can think and speak at the same time. We ended up having a dead-end discussion about beliefs (according to him, it’s knowledge, not belief) and Noelle said “What about all the contradictions in the Bible? We are told to shun homosexuals and that they’ll be condemned to hell, but then it also says “Judge not lest ye be judged, for on judgment day he shall do the judging”” or something along those lines. To which he responded “God has given me the right to judge. We don’t say homosexuals aren’t allowed, but when they come to church they’re healed, and they give up their life of sin. They no longer practice homosexuality.” So apparently, the rules do apply unless God tells you otherwise. Ro said “Anyone can ask for God’s forgiveness” and he got a mite irked by this. He claimed to be perfect, which allowed him to judge others, but then said taht the first time he received the holy spirit he then went straight from church back to the bar for another drink. So Clare said “if you were perfect you wouldn’t have done that. You would never sin. If that were true.” and he said “The flesh isn’t that strong!”

It was a pointless argument, i’m not being very eloquent here in my retelling of it, but at one point I mentioned that the stories in the bible were suspiciously similar to those in the Anceint Sumerian texts written some years beforehand, to which he responded, “well you sound like you know about as much about it as I do!”, and I’m still not sure if that was an insult or a compliment. Him being perfect and all. In the end, mum came up and did the finger-across-neck gesture that stood for “get out of there!” so we finished off and wandered away again, with a weak excuse of “do you know where the bathroom is?”. Lucky that, or the discussion would have never finished. He gave Clare a little brochure, which she recited from in an indignant tone in the car on the way home. I wasn’t as incensed as Noelle & Clare, but I was a little frustrated by his dogmatic, single-minded categorical refusal to take any other points of view into account. He even said, “I brought my grandson along today because he wanted to see the place. But look at that (pointing to an eight-armed statue)! That’s unnatural.” Nevermind that it might have stood for something, nevermind looking further and actually doing some research and having some knowledge of the religion. He asked Clare to read the pamphlet and if she wanted, to come along to one of their masses. Clare said, fine, you do something for me. Find out about Buddhism. Read up on it. Which I thought was very reasonable. How can you condemn something that you know nothing about?

Other than that, the day was nice. We had a picnic by a little pond with lily-pads and a curvy bridge, in which some kids were fishing. They didn’t catch anything, and we pondered over the probability of there being fish in the pond in the first place. A little while later I saw a fish jump out of the water as if to say, “Haha! i’m the greatest fish alive! No one can catch me!” It made me feel glad.

 

My eyes are so tired, so worn out. I am so tired and so worn out. I’d like to go to sleep right now, but I know that mum gets upset when I don’t eat dinner with the family out in front of the tv, so I guess I’ll have to stay awake a little longer.

Tomorrow is a civvies day, and I hope it is cold so that I can wear my jacket with the little polar bear on it. We finished easter shopping today, but I didn’t buy eggs for Lauren & Nathan, I bought them other things. After tomorrow, we then have a four day weekend. I’m really looking forward to it. Except for the part when I might get bored. Hopefully i have enough to do to occupy my time. I’ve been putting off making a decision on going to Yamba until the decision was literally made for me by it being too late to book a train or a bus. So I guess I am staying up here. No one will be home for easter though, mum is working and Lauren & Nathan are spending easter at Nathan’s place because last easter they spent the day here, because no one was home last year either. They made giant rabbit’s footprints on the floor using flour, and we had an egg hunt. That was fun. I don’t think we’ll be doing anything as  exciting this year.

Last entry I wrote was boring so I deleted it. Quizlet entries are a bit of a copout because they require virtually no thought and zero effort. I’d rather make things up as I go along, even if Ro says that my entire blog entries are completely random. I think that’s kind of the point. Wherever the train of my thoughts takes me, that’s where I go.

Ro: My foot’s asleep, my leg’s really heavy, and I can’t walk.

This after sitting cross-legged on the floor playing PS2 for half an hour. I’m not surprised. We’ve been playing Nitro-Kart, and she gets to be the egg because I made her be the egg once because I had already chosen the bandicoot and she said she wanted to be bandicoot, so I said “no, be the egg, it’s so disgusting.” And now we both love the egg and I want to be the egg but I can’t because it’s her consolation. I really want to be the polar bear but we haven’t played enough to unlock the rest of the racers. When we do, Ro wants to be the cute tiger that shows up at the start screen of one of the races, in a blue kart.

I think we’re going on a picnic on Friday, out to the place where the Buddhist Temple is. I can’t remember where that is – down the coast somewhere. Maybe. Or else we’ll choose somewhere else. Not sure where, but hopefully for all our sakes we don’t go out to Wivenhoe Dam again. I think this drought is bad enough without making a point of celebrating the places where the lack of water is most obvious. I hate drought. I hate being away from the water. Maybe I should have gone home for easter?

We were at Chermside today. Ro said, “oh my god, have you noticed how many bogans there are around here?” and I said I hadn’t. I’m not generally paying that much attention. Because who cares, right? It was funny when we were in the egg section and standing in the aisle, and some girl came walking towards us and Ro moved out of theway so she could get past, then she just stood there for a while and finally said “EXCUSE me!” And Ro moved right over to the side so she could go through. But she already had more than enough room and no reason to get huffy. people are weird sometimes.

Anyway,  my eyes are hurting so I’m going to go. Bye bye.

 

Here I am, proving a point previously made about me and relayed by me in a previous post (THE previous post in fact…). And here I am not making sense because I can’t do two things at once (that is, write a blog entry and listen to music. Oh Franz my dear, I’m afraid I must abandon you for the greater good… of my blog).

Every time I look at this one picture I burst out laughing. I just can’t help it. And it was made even funnier by the only comment I ever heard about it. Funny, oh so funny.

I can hear footsteps outside in the grass, in the yard below my window. I think it’s some sort of animal. Wouldn’t it be a shame if it was a robber, or a murderer come to kill me in my sleep and I wasn’t asleep? I’d  have to say, “Gosh sorry! Gimme a few minutes.” and then i’d try to go to sleep but I couldn’t because I’ve had too much coke zero (even though it’s aimed at men and the ads are banal and insult to anyone with a modicum of intelligence, not to mention the entire world’s population of FEMALES) and also because if there’s a murderer waiting in your room for you to go to sleep so they can kill you it would be hard to get to sleep I think. So then I’d have to apologise, and say “Could you maybe come back tomorrow night? I know I’ll be asleep then, it’s a school night.” and hopefully they could allay their bloodlust for another 24 hours. I wouldn’t like to be murdered while I was awake,  because i think it would hurt and I’d also be constantly thinking, “what happens when you die?” and wondering if there really is a heaven and hell and if so where I would be placed and if not then what? Just nothing? Dumbledore says that death is just the next great adventure, and I would really hope so because life isn’t much of one.

I think I’m tired and I try to grab hold of that sensation, of falling asleep, and it just slips right through my fingers and I am wide awake again. Wide awake but exhausted. I promise never to drink caffeine again before bedtime. No caffeine after lunch. But how will I remember? That slips through my fingers too, as do most words I intend on using only to lose them just before they step out of my mouth.

I have a terrible memory at the moment. I think it has something to do with how I’m feeling.

Anyway, I think I’ll at least try to go to sleep.

 

How bored am I right now?

Seriously.

I know that you can’t answer that question because I’m the only one sitting here, knowing how bored I am and feeling the boredom. I can tell you how bored I am but I’m kind of occupying myself at the moment so I’m not as bored now as I was a minute ago before I started this entry.

So, how boring is this entry?

Well, that’s difficult to answer too, since it’s only just starting out. At least I think it’s only just starting out, though if I ended it right here it would sort of not be just starting out, it would have pretty much been almost to the end right then. But now that I’ve written some more it’s more like halfway. So I’m confusing myself. And maybe people who can be bothered reading this. Who are you, by the way? Just thought I’d include you in this entry because people like being included in things.

A note from Chris in an old book:

“Fishermen kill fish everyday! Fuck off Fishermen!!”

“Good words:
* Cutlets
* funk
* advocado
* flippant
* heinous
* ruche”

“Panda bears everywhere like bananas”

“Your stupid u hair! FUCK”

Lauren found the book under the house I think, and just brought it in to show me because it was so random and weird. I got a message from Chris the other day saying “is your email address still (blahblahblah)?” I messaged back that it was, and he messaged that he was going to send an invitation. But I still haven’t got one. I’d like to invite him to birthday drinks.

From a fathers day card Ro & I made for dad (also found under the house by Lauren):

Dear dad,
I hope you have a great father’s day. Hey, they don’t call ‘em chats for nothin’, ya little potato.
Love Cassie

Dear Fatty
I want you to have a wonderfull Daddy’s Day this year unlike all your brothers.
Love Roseanna Brisbane

I also really like the pictures in the card, one of dad’s hands reaching out for a block of cadbury’s chocolate, one of a cityscape, and one of dad with this caption “Dad with his favourite haircut (bowl)”. Except that he’s been drawn with breasts. He looks like a woman. When you put all of that together, it’s really not a very nice Father’s day card. I guess we were hyper that day and just went crazy… we did that a lot. The front of the card has blue swirls all over it drawn in texta, and a heart and a star and “DAD” in big letters of red & black.

When I was younger I had a dream that dad was a piece of ham on the bench, and his eyes were spinning swirly things, like a psychiatrist would use to hypnotise you, and I was terrified that someone was going to come along and cut him up. And I was so upset because he was a piece of ham, and how can you stop someone from being a piece of ham once they are one? So anyway, it terrified me and I woke up crying. It was a really bad dream, and left me with a bad feeling and haunted me for weeks afterwards. I still feel slightly uneasy whenever I recall the memory.

We were going to go home for Easter, but now I don’t think I will. It might depress me. Seeing the house as it is in all it’s … what’s an antonym for glory that could be applied in that sentence? Well by saying that, you should know what I mean. It’s just… when I go back there it feels like everything’s shrinking around me. I dont know how to explain what I feel about it. I love the beach, I love the backyard and the sky and the leaves and the birds and the place in itself, I just don’t like seeing the house the way it is right now. It’s sad.

Anyway. I want to buy a keyboard for my laptop that has a numerical keypad, because I’m so much faster at typing numbers in on a numerical keyboard than by going to the ones in the row above qwertyyuiop. According to some standard that Nathan has set, I am a nerd. Requirements include: wearing glasses, using a computer every day (at least five hours – which isn’t difficult since I use one all day at work), reading books often, hating TV but watching TV shows on DVD, blogging, being too cheap to buy a wireless router. Blogging = nerd apparently. When I said that lots of people blog, he said a lot more people are becoming nerds.

Franz Ferdinand’s latest CD is awesome. As is The Strokes, but I’ve listened to it too much now and so I have to leave it for a while so I don’t start hating it, like you do if you constantly hear a song on the radio. Even if you like it after a while it starts to irritate you and it gets boring. But I hate most of the songs they play on the radio anyway. Pop music is irritating, and not because it’s popular, just because it’s shit. If someone wanted to torture me all they’d have to do is tie me to a chair and force me to listen to Jack Johnson, James Blunt, Pete Murray, josh kelley (why are they all the SAME????), or something like pussycat dolls or chingy or … just shit music. All that crappy RnB & HipHop and Rap they have in the charts at the moment that is not original or interesting at all. BORING.

Lauren has asked me what I want for my birthday. I’m still thinking about it, because at the moment I really don’t have any idea what I’d like. Apart from some cons, maybe chuck taylors.

God there’s a horrific garbage smell coming in through my window…

Okay, I guess I’ll go be bored again.

 

I got two modest mouse cds today. I like their words, and I like Wolf Parade’s words too (because they’re similar) even when they don’t mean anything they mean something.

It’s strange when I’m in my room, I can’t hear anything outside it because the fan is on 3 (it’s hot) and I’m watching a DVD or listening to music, and then hours later I open the door and the living room is full of people. I just find it strange that I was existing in this coccoon of alone-ness, and find there are people conversing and watching TV (always sitting around the TV). But this is why I don’t go out into the living room, because they are sitting around the TV. It’s so boring, most of the shows they have on are crap. Like the OC, what a load of crap! And Desperate Housewives! And Survivor! And all these shows people get excited about! Its all just boring unintelligent drivel. It’s like junk food for brains. The shows are getting worse by the year, because now we are in the golden age where no new concepts exist, and verything is just a regurgitated conglomerate of whatever the person who created it had seen in their lifetime (I had my own argument to counter this argument, but never mind because it’s too late and I’m tired.)

I’m going to work late again tomorrow. I can’t believe how hot it is! I can’t believe I keep undermining my own efforts at repaying my debts by buying shallow spend-happy consumer goods. Actually I can believe it. I have no concept of delayed gratification, as soon as I want something I buy it, just because I can. What a world we live in, eh? And with the new industrial reforms, well I suppose this is a terrible thing to get used to for when the time of the renewal of the Certified Agreement comes around! Hopefully I won’t be here then, I’ll be somewhere else entirely (meaning, not in Australia… The Lucky Country! “Luck will be temporarily unavailable for the next five to seven years. John Howard thanks you for voting Liberal!” YOU IDIOTS!) NO ONE will own up to voting for him, and yet he keeps getting voted in! Everyone says, “well, don’t look at me, I didn’t vote for him!” But that can’t be true because they won the election. Someone’s lyyyyyying because they’re ashaaaamed of the way the country is being run and all the problems that are caused when the leader has forgotten or never knew what it was like in the first place to be a blue-collar worker (just a hint: blue collar workers are the backbone of the economy which is what you’re so obsessed with you IDIOT) and therefore makes all his decisions based on what will be best for the economy when if he took a step further back in the food chain he’d see that what supports the economy is PEOPLE!

GOSH!

Anyway. I’m not a politician. I obviously can’t have an opinion on something I understand so little of. Except to say, I hope labour wins the next elections, even if they are leaderless and disorganised.

 

Something I forgot that could seem relevant at any given point, depending on what you want to read into it:

I remember times when light was feeble
And shadows lay across your face
As we watched clouds melt across the sky
Dripping faded moonlight over everything

Will I ever be completely sure of it all?
To sit and ponder, contemplate the past
It doesn’t seem worth the bother without you
To erase my own thoughts with your words

I once placed a crown upon your head, and
A kiss upon your cheek. I once bowed to you
Believing that you deserved all this, and more
That I was privileged to witness your genius

In the end, how different are you from everyone else?
You believe you are obscure, abstract, emotionally mysterious
A brilliantly vibrant piece of shit, but, in the end
Still a piece of shit
You should get your own shoes.

Nananana. Winchester has arrived on the set. Quick, places everyone! His fancy upper-class Boston accent is addictive.

It’s so interesting, I’m trying to figure out the pattern. Could we add Mayor Quimby to the reference pile? I think

perhaps…

 

I’m tired (as per usual). Apparently I’ve been cultivating a reputation for silence. Ro said to me today, “You don’t talk much, do you?” And I guess I haven’t been. I’d just as soon hide in a dark hole somewhere, away from everything and everyone. Oooh I’m so anti-social. Well, I have my moments at least. I’ve been trying to explain to people how I feel, but I don’t think they get it because they’re not dumb wimpy babies like I am, so they can’t empathise. “Life’s so hard!”.

I have found I can’t handle boring conversations. I can’t handle boring anything. You know the stupid, everyday crap that everyone goes on with… it frustrates me so much, I’d just as soon lie on my bed and stare at the ceiling than have to listen and respond in kind. And it’s tiring me out. It’s exhausting not being interested in anything, and I know I don’t hide my feelings very well, and this worries me. It’s different now to how it was before, because when I was younger I used to let my feelings out and scream and yell and rage on, but now if I feel anything like anger or frustration I hide away somewhere until it goes away. And if it doesn’t go away.. well.. I stay there. There have been exceptions, but right now it makes me uncomfortable to air my feelings in an open forum, and communicate them to people not in words but in actions. I can’t do it. Unless it’s outside my control, eg. bursting into tears about something. But the problem has now become that I feel this way so often that I am more removed from life than living it.

We went to see V for Vendetta today. It was good. Sort of… confronting, in a Hollywood bullshit kind of way. The references to Nazi Germany were a little too obvious – the fervent, die-hard, extremist dictator, the blind acceptance by a desperate population, the propaganda (when is news ever NOT propaganda?), the religious links of the party emblem, the prison camps for medical experiments filled with the usual downtrodden (gays, muslims, enemies of the state, those guilty of sedition or treason…)… Oh sorry, did I just give away the general plot of the movie? Not really, it’s worth seeing. Even if Natalie Portman’s british accent was a bit too forced. They really gave the brits a good ol’ beating. I don’t think that the British hold any particular grudges against the Americans for wanting to be independent, because the independents won that battle fair and square (all’s fair in love & war). It’s not like the Brits’d still be sulking… What a vainglorious, presumptuous concept! America’s such a great country – all the rest of the world is so jealous that we’re just waiting with bated breath for their downfall! Pffft. Anyway, the suggestions put forth were a bit simplistic, but I guess that main releases have such a broad target audience that they’d have to cater to those who don’t want to have to think too hard about things. Spoon-feeding audiences is a finely honed skill these days.

My hair is growing long. I need a haircut. I wanted to dye it this weekend, the blonde is coming through again. I have to cover it before people see it and make assumptions which they might not have otherwise come to until I did something obviously blonde (this being a daily occurence, there’s really not that much difference).

Noelle is moving out this weekend. I wonder if we’ll get to see her place tomorrow, or if it will have to wait a while longer.

Sigh.

Work on monday. As usual. We’ll be busy, as usual. I’ll be tired, as usual. And bored. Don’t forget bored. Agh.

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