Diaspora

Jan. 10th, 2011 03:58 pm
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I've got five Diaspora invites if anyone wants in. It's kinda like Facebook, but you can only friend 50 people, so it keeps it sane and relevant. At least that's the idea. That said you can also crosspost between Diaspora and FB and Twitter. It's in alpha at the moment. Drop me a line if you want one.

EDIT: The '50 people' thing is something else. My mistake. Diaspora has a website at https://joindiaspora.com/. I'll hand out the invites ASAP.

It's still very much alpha.
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JAMES: Tried watching Citizen Kane, gave up, put on Predators.

ME: (laughs)

JAMES: I could tell it was good film-making though.

ME: How long did you watch it for?

JAMES: Eighteen seconds.



In his defense he did say he would give it a go. At some point.
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Today I compose grant applications. I don't know what it is about this process, but I put it off forever.

So long, [personal profile] blithespirit. Don't be a stranger. And if, while in Adelaide, you spot someone vacuuming their lawn, run. Just run.

In closing, I leave you with this from [personal profile] cavalorn:

Over Christmas I fell asleep on the sofa at the in-laws' (as one does). Sabrina was worried that Daddy would get cold. So while I snored, she did something about it.


Dad Fort
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via [personal profile] dashing

It's been almost nothing but full days and late nights since I got back. Kinda good, kinda starting to freak me out. Book needs doing.
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I can only listen to this sparingly. This is a perfect song.

The radio edit has a better clip, but this one's uncensored.

I pray to God I never see this being used to sell cars.
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Detroit in ruins. Beautiful.

Wondered if the second last shot was used in Fight Club.

Thanks

Jan. 2nd, 2011 01:27 pm
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I just want to thank, in alphabetical order, [profile] _nightflower_, [profile] artbroken, [profile] bell_man, [personal profile] blithespirit, [personal profile] cavalorn, [profile] damen_wise, [profile] ed_dirt, [profile] eyeseedepths, [profile] findalexh, [profile] fluffworld, [personal profile] kalinichta, [personal profile] lucybond, [personal profile] rufus, [personal profile] rosanegra and [personal profile] valkyriekaren for making 2010 effing brilliant.

That's all.
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I very much like being in Melbourne.

It's likely my presence on social networks is going to drop sharply. Life's better without it and I prefer functioning in meatspace with actual human units. I'll still be posting here regularly, just less frequently. I figure this'll result in some falling away of acquaintances but that's probably for the best. Otherwise I'm pretty easy to get a hold of.
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Woke last night to what I thought was thunder. Realised it wasn't raining and the sky wasn't flashing. Sounded like someone running in place by the bed, or pounding the floor with hands. Floor and walls were shaking with it. Hit the lights, totally silent. Nice to know the north remains weird.

Brother came over to say goodbye. Fired a few rounds through an old WW2 battle rifle fitted with a target scope, and a pump-action .223. Used in-ear buds as earplugs. Did a great job of cancelling out the high-frequency spikes, left me with zero tinnitus. Fun though.

Talked for a few hours, hung out. Probably the best time I've had since getting here. Driving back to Cairns at 3am.
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Doctor Who gets better once they start letting him be not-omnipotent, show fear, be weak, take away his toys, let him lose and generally not be Superman. And it's still got hands-down them best theme music and credit sequence of any TV show ever.

Looking forward to getting back to Melbourne.
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Wrappy Giftmas, people. Sherry Mishmash?

Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah-nagl ftaghn?


Cheers.
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I'm glad that's dealt with. Now if we can eradicate rampant narcissism maybe we'll get somewhere.
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The night off to my right is about as black as it's possible to get without being completely blind. Frogs are singing. In fact, there are things out there making noises I'm not sure I've ever heard before. It's raining. No lightning. If my Indiana Jones-style hangup wasn't toads I'd be out there right now walking around. I've missed this. I feel like a visitor anywhere that doesn't feel like this.

Got a good feeling about 2011. Got a date the day after I get back. Got a good friend setting up residence the day after I get back. I managed to get a good friend in Sussex a slot on the ghost story anthology. Got work offers myself with the same outfit. Feeling good about what I'm making which - I'll say it again - I never thought I'd feel again. Plus my craft is really coming together. The exercise is paying off. I've had a couple of people notice. I think I'll be seeing more of my family in 2011, which'll be fantastic. I have absolutely no idea what's going to happen or how it'll play out, but I feel pretty calm about it. I'm on better terms with sleep, and my dreams and I are doing okay. Drew wants us both to see Thailand this year, and I'd be up for that.

Got a good feeling about the date. We met and started riffing off each other like we'd known each other for years. I like that. And she's an author. Still, no expectations. Just looking forward to it. Really makes me want to get my act together though, I'll tell you that. I'd like to see Howard again and just have a drink someplace. He's a good talker.

Rose and I have gotten a lot closer. Realised just how solid the core friends I have are.

I do like coming back here. It makes me sane whether I want to be or not. I wonder if at some point I'll pretty much leave for good. I hope not. But everything changes.
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Right now the world past the verandah is totally dark, except when it's lit by the strobe of heat lightning above and behind the treeline. Thunder that shakes the walls and floors. Really missed this.

Just had Dad fill me in on the construction of explosive bullets, using mercury or soap. Then - and this pretty much sums up my relationship with my father - he asked me:

"You ever fired a rifle before? You pulled off some really good shots yesterday."

"Yeah. Rifles. Bows. You don't remember when we used to go shooting?"

"No."

"Do you remember me sitting at the dining room table helping you make dum dums?"

"No. When was that?"

"Shooting? King Junction. Dum dums... dunno. Childhood."

"Oh yeah. That was a while ago."

"You don't really forget."

"Yeah, like riding a bike."

"Yep."

It's worth mentioning that King Junction was the cattle station we spent every holiday we had between my ages of zero to fifteen. Some day I'm going to make a therapist very happy. Or I'll just let go and move on.

Very happy with the short story for the anthology, even if I have no idea where it's going. The opening paragraph is one of the few pieces of my own writing that puts a big smile on my face.

Taking my second crack at liking the Doctor Who reboot. Christopher Eccleston stuff... no complaint. Tennant stuff, still shits me. Lazy, lazy, lazy, frickin' shamefully lazy in places. Pretty sure Gaiman had the same opinion if that lends my view any clout. Hoping they pick up their act. And yes, I know, Blink is great.
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- Last night my brother and his family came on over. My nephew is a lively quick-minded genius. Nothing small-town about him at all. If he can get out of here when the time's right I think he'll go far.

- My new niece is some kind of fairy-goblin that reminds me a *lot* of Cavalorn's daughter. Which surprised the hell out of me. It kinds burns that they'll never get to meet while they're this age, never knowing the kind of bizarre crap they would have inflicted on the neighbourhood.

- My mother's terror of tree frogs endures.

- Alan wants to take me for a run sometime next week. Got no interest in hunting but I'm curious to see if I can keep up across broken ground in this heat while carrying whatever we'll be carrying. Guns, presumably.

- A massive wallaby turned up at the scrub line this morning. Just loped around, grazing. Dad's dog isn't anything like the pack my brother keeps. Stumpy's a blue heeler/collie cross that's almost exactly like a Ribena-fuelled five-year-old kid. Took Dad ten minutes of work to get the dog to even notice it. Stumpy's not a killer, he just plays. Bounces around. Likes a chase. One time Dad stopped the truck, pointed out a wallaby in the middle of the road and the dog took off. Wallaby didn't move. Dog slowed down. Wallaby stared at it. Dog stopped. Looked back at Dad, waiting for backup. Wallaby took off. Dog took off after it. He's sweet.

- I look right and see jungle. Soundtrack is the constant flatline trill of cicadas. At night it's the kiss-face sound of geckoes. Queensland gets a lot of flak, but most never really give it a chance. Just go on and on reinforcing what they've been told to think about the place. Personally it'd take a bit of work on my part to be able to live here, but in a lot of ways this is the dream.

- Penguin emailed an offer for Rowley Monkfish to be included in a forthcoming ghost story anthology. Been working on that the last few hours.

- Probably won't be posting photos 'til I get back to a decent connection. Doing it from here could wipe the folks out for the month.

- I hear Melbourne's rainswept and freezing. Up here it's at least mid-30s and muggy. At least two showers a day and I'm living in the swimmers I picked up in Reykjavik, which are the only shorts I own. This whole year I've dodged the cold. Melbourne had one of the coldest winters in years and I was in 40+ New York with sweat raining off me. It's been 12 months of heat. Even in Iceland. I could do that forever. I've been really lucky this year.
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Gutentag, mein homies.

Well the plan was to update regularly, sort of, via the only computer with a working net connection inside of a five-mile radius. What I didn't allow for was the possibility that the USB ports might be borked. Nil transference from the Eee... so I'll transcribe stuff later maybe.

Been here a little over 24 hours now. Folks are sleeping and the dog's run off to play with the dingoes, I think, so I figured I'd do some work. Gotta be up early to shoot dead-but-dangerous branches off some very tall ghost gums.

It's good being here, but it sets off survival instincts the same way being locked in a box sets off survival instincts. Also I'm out of phone range unless I go stand in a field. The Bedouin have a neat trick for getting SMSes fired off in the middle of nowhere. Type it, hit send, then throw the phone as high into the air as possible. So if I had to, I could do that. But in the short term best bet is via here or email.

Tried taking photos. There's a lot here that's photoworthy, but at the end of the day I think it'll be an album that looks pretty samey: jungle, scrub, trees, dogs, trucks, kids, sky. See how I go I guess.

The for-real post I tapped up yesterday was slightly more informative.

A friend I haven't seen in ten years (she wrote the song that featured in Razors) got in touch, so it'll be good seeing her when I get back.

FNQ feels like Mississippi, if Mississippi lacked kudzu and breathed beneath your feet.
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Staying awake all night to collapse this room and leave at 6 for a flight at 9... or... something... is seeming less smart that it did twelve hours ago.

Really wishing I'd brought back a case of that trucker fuel they sold in rest stops along Highway Whatever. 5-Hour Energy. That was it. Probably causes lymphoma and gill formation, but Christ it worked. No caffeine hangover, no comedown, just straight zip.

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