Frankly, 2008, you won't be missed by me. Your only acheivement is that you probably won't be as bad financially as 2009. Your movies have been piss poor. Your weather has been unsatisfactory.
The entirety of this year has felt like nothing more than the slow & dismal build-up to the rapid, careening descent into economic recession/the end of days. Like the up part of a rollercoaster.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
The Econoclypse (aka. Ragnorthernrök)
I can't help but enjoy the wild ride that is the credit crunch/crisis/crash, mostly because I have no noticeable income.
Whilst the job losses are tragic, it kindof feels like a cleansing fire is purging all the crappy shops and shops containing a z and two flipping v's from the highstreet.
And house prices might actually be within attainable levels by the time I leave University.
I believe we will come out of this crisis stronger. Until then, I may aswell enjoy the schadenfreude. And takes bets on which highstreet shop is going to go out of business next.
Whilst the job losses are tragic, it kindof feels like a cleansing fire is purging all the crappy shops and shops containing a z and two flipping v's from the highstreet.
And house prices might actually be within attainable levels by the time I leave University.
I believe we will come out of this crisis stronger. Until then, I may aswell enjoy the schadenfreude. And takes bets on which highstreet shop is going to go out of business next.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Nothing to write (from) home about
Finally got a PC on which blogger works and nothing much is going on, ignoring all this Christmas biznez. The journey home was pleasant but uneventful. And most of the family seems to have come down with some kind of disease.
Nothing else to report. This is Matthew Ingram of maintenence team 4B, signing off.
Oh, one more thing. I put all the spare armour and ammunition in the -
Nothing else to report. This is Matthew Ingram of maintenence team 4B, signing off.
Oh, one more thing. I put all the spare armour and ammunition in the -
Saturday, December 13, 2008
2012
In the early hours of the morning, after a particularly gruesome revision session, I happened to listen to Hide and Seek by Imogen Heap and somehow the idea that she was singing about 2012’s alien colonisation of Earth, as described in the X-files, lodged itself way into my addled head.
In the harsh light of day, I realized this was complete bolox, but it’s an interesting insight into what lack of sleep can do to a brain.
My reasoning was thus:
Imogen Heap – Hide and Seek
Where are we?
What the hell is going on?
The dust has only just begun to fall
Crop circles in the carpet
Sinking feeling
This speaks about the initial confusion, as the invasion commences and alien spaceships appear in the sky.
The dust is potentially a means of spreading the alien virus. They tried bees, but virus-laden particles would be far more affective. Distributed by the ships as they enter the atmosphere, the dust would cover everything, forming a ‘carpet’ in which form the ‘crop circles’ as the alien ships touch down.
Spin me around again and rub my eyes
This can't be happening
When busy streets a mess with people
Would stop to hold their heads heavy
It continues to describe the confusion of invasion day. The mess of people around her stop as the virus takes effect. They hold their heads; it is possible the black oil is already pooling in the third ventricle of the brain, depending on how fast the virus progresses.
She is seemingly immune.
Hide and seek
Trains and sewing machines
All those years
They were here first
She tries to hide. With most of humanity now controlled by the colonists, she holes up in abandoned areas – train yards or dumps.
The colonists were here first, before mankind, all those thousands of years ago, until driven out by the ice age.
Oily marks appear on walls
Where pleasure moments hung before
The takeover, the sweeping insensitivity
Of this still life
The black oil of the infected is spreading everywhere. The ‘pleasure moments hung before’ is likely referring to photographs of happier times framed on the wall. Perhaps some black oil choses to conceal itself behind a photograph frame. Or she is simply remarking on how those times are now lost.
The invasion has swept across the planet. She describes the relentless inhumanity of the aliens and the black oil, which is aptly described as ‘still life’ – it is outwardly just oil, yet it possesses sentience and the ability to move.
Hide and seek
Trains and sewing machines (You won’t catch me around here)
Blood and tears
They were here first
Again, her struggle to survive and hide, through blood and tears.
The colonists were here first.
Mm what'cha say?
Mm, that you only meant well
Well of course you did
Mm what'cha say?
Mm that it's all for the best
Of course it is
Mm what'cha say?
Mm that it's just what we need
You decided this?
Mm what'cha say?
Mm what did you say?
It seems she is addressing The Syndicate. Her knowledge of them perhaps sheds some light on to why she is immune. The Syndicate (‘you’) worked with the aliens because they believed it was what humanity (‘we’) needed to do in order to survive. They meant well but her derisive tone suggests that their efforts were in vain or even detrimental. She seems angry that they decided to keep the knowledge of the aliens from the public.
Ransom notes keep falling out your mouth
Mid-sweet-talk newspaper word cutouts (paper word cutouts)
Speak no feeling; no, I don't believe you
You don't care a bit
You don't care a bit
Unfortunately, it’s at this point that the whole thing becomes undone; even my sleep-deprived brain struggled to misinterpret the lyrics.
She suggests The Syndicate is giving a ransom, but as to what that is I can only guess. Perhaps they have a store of nuclear warheads and are threatening to detonate them, making the planet uninhabitable (in a sense, holding the Earth itself hostage).
I can’t imagine The Syndicate being big on sweet-talk, but the ‘newspaper word cutouts’ could have two meanings. It may be relating to the previously mentioned ransom or it could also be talking about the control the Syndicate had over the media before the invasion, silencing anything that threatened to expose them.
In the last three lines she expresses her distrust of The Syndicate, and that they ‘speak no feeling’ and ‘don’t care a bit’. Their lack of emotion could imply that they have since been taken over by the alien virus. Perhaps they’re using TV and radio to persuade the last survivors to turn themselves in.
All of this is backed up by the video, which shows the singer in front of a wall of bright lights, like the inside of a spaceship.
More likely, she’s singing about her boyfriend.
In the harsh light of day, I realized this was complete bolox, but it’s an interesting insight into what lack of sleep can do to a brain.
My reasoning was thus:
Imogen Heap – Hide and Seek
Where are we?
What the hell is going on?
The dust has only just begun to fall
Crop circles in the carpet
Sinking feeling
This speaks about the initial confusion, as the invasion commences and alien spaceships appear in the sky.
The dust is potentially a means of spreading the alien virus. They tried bees, but virus-laden particles would be far more affective. Distributed by the ships as they enter the atmosphere, the dust would cover everything, forming a ‘carpet’ in which form the ‘crop circles’ as the alien ships touch down.
Spin me around again and rub my eyes
This can't be happening
When busy streets a mess with people
Would stop to hold their heads heavy
It continues to describe the confusion of invasion day. The mess of people around her stop as the virus takes effect. They hold their heads; it is possible the black oil is already pooling in the third ventricle of the brain, depending on how fast the virus progresses.
She is seemingly immune.
Hide and seek
Trains and sewing machines
All those years
They were here first
She tries to hide. With most of humanity now controlled by the colonists, she holes up in abandoned areas – train yards or dumps.
The colonists were here first, before mankind, all those thousands of years ago, until driven out by the ice age.
Oily marks appear on walls
Where pleasure moments hung before
The takeover, the sweeping insensitivity
Of this still life
The black oil of the infected is spreading everywhere. The ‘pleasure moments hung before’ is likely referring to photographs of happier times framed on the wall. Perhaps some black oil choses to conceal itself behind a photograph frame. Or she is simply remarking on how those times are now lost.
The invasion has swept across the planet. She describes the relentless inhumanity of the aliens and the black oil, which is aptly described as ‘still life’ – it is outwardly just oil, yet it possesses sentience and the ability to move.
Hide and seek
Trains and sewing machines (You won’t catch me around here)
Blood and tears
They were here first
Again, her struggle to survive and hide, through blood and tears.
The colonists were here first.
Mm what'cha say?
Mm, that you only meant well
Well of course you did
Mm what'cha say?
Mm that it's all for the best
Of course it is
Mm what'cha say?
Mm that it's just what we need
You decided this?
Mm what'cha say?
Mm what did you say?
It seems she is addressing The Syndicate. Her knowledge of them perhaps sheds some light on to why she is immune. The Syndicate (‘you’) worked with the aliens because they believed it was what humanity (‘we’) needed to do in order to survive. They meant well but her derisive tone suggests that their efforts were in vain or even detrimental. She seems angry that they decided to keep the knowledge of the aliens from the public.
Ransom notes keep falling out your mouth
Mid-sweet-talk newspaper word cutouts (paper word cutouts)
Speak no feeling; no, I don't believe you
You don't care a bit
You don't care a bit
Unfortunately, it’s at this point that the whole thing becomes undone; even my sleep-deprived brain struggled to misinterpret the lyrics.
She suggests The Syndicate is giving a ransom, but as to what that is I can only guess. Perhaps they have a store of nuclear warheads and are threatening to detonate them, making the planet uninhabitable (in a sense, holding the Earth itself hostage).
I can’t imagine The Syndicate being big on sweet-talk, but the ‘newspaper word cutouts’ could have two meanings. It may be relating to the previously mentioned ransom or it could also be talking about the control the Syndicate had over the media before the invasion, silencing anything that threatened to expose them.
In the last three lines she expresses her distrust of The Syndicate, and that they ‘speak no feeling’ and ‘don’t care a bit’. Their lack of emotion could imply that they have since been taken over by the alien virus. Perhaps they’re using TV and radio to persuade the last survivors to turn themselves in.
All of this is backed up by the video, which shows the singer in front of a wall of bright lights, like the inside of a spaceship.
More likely, she’s singing about her boyfriend.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
It's pronounced 'Boner'
For some reason my PC refuses to run Blogger, even through circumventors, and I've been more or less room-bound with revision for the last week or so, so have been unable to update.
I never thought I'd miss the ability to talk about nothing to nobody.
Aside from revision, this week I have been mostly listening to The Phantom of the Opera. The video doesn't make a lot of sense. Does the Phantom (played by Gerard Butler :D) seriously employ a couple dozen burly men to stand behind walls, holding candlesticks? And who is operating the complex, waterproof-candlestick raising mechanism?
Anyway, I just had my first exam. I may go into hiding beneath Bonar Hall if this doesn't turn out well. Buy a gondola and a mask. I have a genius that can never be understood by society or a rigorous process of written and practical examination.
Not sure which side of the face to wear the mask on though.
Maybe I'll buy two masks.
I never thought I'd miss the ability to talk about nothing to nobody.
Aside from revision, this week I have been mostly listening to The Phantom of the Opera. The video doesn't make a lot of sense. Does the Phantom (played by Gerard Butler :D) seriously employ a couple dozen burly men to stand behind walls, holding candlesticks? And who is operating the complex, waterproof-candlestick raising mechanism?
Anyway, I just had my first exam. I may go into hiding beneath Bonar Hall if this doesn't turn out well. Buy a gondola and a mask. I have a genius that can never be understood by society or a rigorous process of written and practical examination.
Not sure which side of the face to wear the mask on though.
Maybe I'll buy two masks.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)