WARDROBE MULFUNCTION

Woe is Wulf! The rallying catch cry of all the couch potatoes everywhere 'Sports are unhealthy!' is once again proved to be true. The first Sunday of my holiday I have gone rollelblading. Now that my brother had purveyed the missing axle bolt from Melbourne where it had been assembled atom-by-atom by nanite-macroassemblers, or so one is led to believe, judging by the availability, if not the price.

Wulf has been clocked at up to 37Km/h and on that day the telemetry recovered from the black box indicates that at the time of the wardrobe malfuncion Wulf was traversing the landscape at least around 30Km/h. This conclusion is drawn from the telemetry data that has just recorded the Wulf chassis reconfiguration from 'Look at me, I am casually accelerating, sporty and fit like...' to 'Look at me, I am moving at a hasty pace, somewhere between `faster that a walking elderly citizen and not quite as fast as a bike in a full flight, yet benefiting from aerodynamic low profile`'. One moment, the cockpit tapes record the eyeballs feeding a casual scenery of a sunny Sunday morning with the rest of the cognitive functions randomly causing endorphins to leach out into the cortex et all... the next moment, testicles retract in an emergency stowage position. Naturally at this point in time, the rest of the body is beginning to realise that something bad is happening, since the primary cognitive organ (ie: The testicles) have reacted. A few milliseconds later, the reminder of the nervous system received feedback that the expected propulsion sequence from the right motive section has been interrupted. What happened afterwards was reconstructed from the eyewitness testimony and careful forensic analysis of the wreckage. It is clear however that at some stage the entire Wulf became airborne, albeit for a short time.

Now, I have carefuly examined the Wulf specification and nowhere I had found any reference to airborne capability. At least, not one that ends with anything but a splatonic onomatopea. In anticipation of the imminently termination of the brief flight, the front manipulators have extended to cushion some of the impact.
The next thing Wulf remembers is a guy in a white coat looking rather surprised.

'WTF are you doing here Wulf?', the impractically attired gentelman asks.
Wulf, in his trademark quick witted style, replies 'Uhg... my head...'
'You are in the wrong place...', the gentelman consults his PDA with a look of concern.
Wulf at this time is somewhat more coherent, regaining most of his cognitive ability by now and states eloquently: 'Whoa...'.
'You are not due for another two thousand years, anyway ...', the guy in white says, tsk tsking.
'Cool', Wulf states once more, putting all the bards and poets of all the ages past and future to shame with his grasp of the language.
'We will have to fix this...' the guy whips out another device, which looks clearly similar to a Portable specific time-space continuum manipulator, only this one does not require the entire output of the universe to power it. Clikety clak and Wulf finds himself eight months in the past, deciding inexplicably, spontaneously and of his own free will totally unprompted to equip himself with an enire set of crash guards, body armor, helmets, wizardly charms and other protective devices, all designed to lessen the chance of bad hurties when inevitably Mr.Bitumen says hello.


Thus, when the crash occured all Wulf said was 'WHOMPH' accompanying a unique yet fearful sound which was as my friend G. once eloquently and observantly stated all those years ago, 'The sound that Wulf makes when he falls is like a side of beef hitting the concrete'. Thanks to all the mirth provoking body armor all the injuries that Wulf has suffered were 4 patches of nasty road rash, and a small cut above the boot and on the small finger of the left hand (wearing bike gloves which got compromised). All in all, over $800 in body armor has just repaid itself with interest. Had Wulf not been wearing any, the knees and elbows would have been boned with possibly a nasty face/dental injury had the chinguard not taken the blow.


Here is the culprit of the crash. The shoelace got entangled in the third wheel of the righ drivetrain bringing the whole thing to an instant stop. The right photo is the rip in my rollerblading pants. Quite tough canvas shorts, torn like tissue in the crash, a testimony to the energy of the impact. Marvel mirthfuly at the motorcross knee guards, looking particularly silly to any who have not had the joyous experience of pressing their naked flesh onto the file-like surface of bitumen and dragging it along the ground until interesting bits begin to show.

I was uncharacteristically lucky, not only because of my minimal body injuries, but also my phone has been merely scratched rather than smashed to bits, some of the impact absorbed by a squashed Gatorade bottle.

Lucky day for me, bought three cross lotto tickets for the New Years draw.

LINK OF THE DAY

What happens IRL when luck runs out

WULF DOES SANTA

Ever ridden a roller-coaster?
The train makes clickety clack noises, climbing up the gravity well, mass ratios and kinetic equations dance around the gravity constant. Charging up, then, once the top of the track is reached, silence. Just before everyone (sans Wulf natch) screams and the bucket of humanity hurdles down the track to embark on another ride.

Well, this is precisely the feeling I am experiencing right now. Only, for added excitement, I do not know whether there is a track on the down side of the coaster :) Hmmm... tell me more Wulf. Make youself more comfortable on the couch. Why this unreasonable fear of clowns? Huh? I did not mention any clowns. Unless of course we are talking of people who have wronged me in the past. Plotted their evil plans, nay more so inconvinient. For to call them evil would be to offend the good, mirror thing, do not think to much on it, it is quite apparent to anyone reading (all 2 of you) that I have not thought to much about what I have written ;)

The new year is going to bring changes, this I know. The last few days of this year are a fuse to a rocket that is going to push me forward. This I know.

A good start was an interview I had on Christmas eve. A sign I am getting old. Both the PM and the Talent were both younger than me. Usually, the decision makers are older. Even though it was a team leader role, I politely declined since it transpired that the role was hands on, working on a SOE rollout. This is the kind of a position I will be considering when the stocks of the cans of dogfoods start running low. I give it 2-3 months. In the meanwhile, the sights are set higher.
Interesting aspect of a psychology of an Interview. It is twice now that I have informed the interviewer that the offered role is not for me.
Yet in both instances I was informed that it was *I* who was 'unsuccessful'.
This was after I informed them that I was not interested.
No, I am sorry mate. It is *I* who have decided *YOU* were unsuccessful.
The interview process cuts both, *I* get to decide if I want to work for you lot; usurous,incompetent,disorganised,clearly inept and badly in need of my assistance. The Interviewer has a real problem letting go of their perceived control of the process.

Aaah... Control. My favourite word at the moment.
I have ordered a game from the US. The reason, this game comes out here sometime next year. Its available in the US for well over 4 weeks now. And it it cheaper. Naturally I have Ebayed it. Here is the 1st surprise. Even including the shipping, I paid $68. For a game that in Australia would cost $99.
Ok, I am happy to go with that high marigin. I have said this before, I buy locally when I can so that my neighbour has a job.

My second surprise really annoyed me. The game is regionalised. Allow me to explain this concept to you dear reader. You see, forget what you have heard about Global economy. It is all lies and propaganda. Forget all you have heard about competative markets, the bedrock of capitalism. All lies.

The idea of 'regionalised' media means that the CDs have little bits on them marking them as made for a region. This allows the vendor (SONY, may their corporate soul burn in the hell of insolvency as the insanely gigling users trample their grave) to charge $40-50 for the game in the US and $90 for the game here.
To put it in other words. You are being locked out from the competition/fair market by the virtue of monopoly. Luckily it looks like they have pissed off enough people that there is now a solution. Before you blanch that I being such a principled human being would stoop to thieving from a multi billion dollar multinational corporation, owning a mod chip is legal in Australia. I guess it is all a problem with translation. 'Customer Satisfaction' was mistranslated as 'Consumer hostile measures'.

There is a cosmic justice in play. I have been poignantly reminded of this at my Christmas dinner. You see the last few years my parents have been gravitating by choice towards having the Chrismas dinner at the local ethnic hangout. At their age, preparing a 12 course meal is a bit of a chore. The meal is perpared according to the old country tradition. Very old europe. And so it was, some time into the meal the Santa Claus was scheduled to make an appearance. Natrually, being the idiot that I am I have asked the chief voluneer 'Can I do something to help?', since the man was making the rounds apologising for a delay in one of the 12 courses.
The guy had one look at me and asked me to be the Santa Claus.
Living up to my motto 'Carpe Diem', and before any good sense brain cells that were not pleasantly floating on a sea of booze on their tiny white cell floating mattresses, sipping pina coladas had a chance to wake up and scream 'WTF R u doing dude!' I upped and dis-appeared behind the scenes to dress as the man in Coca-Cola colors.


Wulf, the man in red. Note the santa pants strapped onto the front of my trousers and the bursting jacket. Not often it can be said that; most Santas are scrawny weedy guys... at least compared to Wulf :)

Now, here is the funny part. After I have went to all the effort of being publicly humiliated in front of 200 people, there were no presents!
All the presents left under the tree were decorations, so fun time ensued as I was describing and speculating various empty boxes, blocks of wood and gift wrapped bricks. Sigh...

So... living proof not only that there is cosmic justice, but also she has a sense of humor (see the previous post).

LINK OF THE DAY

This is one of those, 'Why did no one think of this before?' ideas. A CD labeler that allows you to BURN the image on the other side of a CD in a CD burner!

SOCIOPATH INDUSTRIALIST WITH A DRUG HABIT

With my contract expiring on Christmas eve, my sense of humor when it comes to all things combining Christmas and employment is shall we say it...conservative. So it was with a great degree of mirth when I noticed the following ad placed on seek.com.au:


Ho bloody ho, ve are lookink for work, ja? Ve do not do the haha!

In the spirit of the ad, I have replied to it with the following letter (edited for style in repost). So far, no response yet:


Dear Sir/Madam.

I am appalled that you would post this job ad!
There are so many things wrong with it, I would not know where to begin!
But let me try!

First, remuneration.To state that it is 'unique' is highly deceptive and I am sure it violates a code of conduct of some sort. Milk and cookies hardly constitutes a minimum wage condition.

Second, your euphemism for the highly cavalier and unsafe method of transportation of 'Extensive travel opportunities'. The operator of the vehicle holds no licence, not even a basic pilots papers. It is a miracle that no major airliner was brought down by the sled and the reindeer.

Third and you do not mention this at all. What about personal liability insurance? The incumbent gains aggress to many private properties without the explicit permission of the owners. Where I come from that is called 'break and enter'. But even assuming there is implicit approval granted by the vehicle of a stocking (a dubious legal device to say the least). Who covers the cost of damages to the roofs? Most roofing systems have not been engineered to hold the weight of a fully laden sled.

Fourth, 'Northern Hemisphere Location'. BAH! I laugh at this. I have heard about off shoring, but this clearly takes the cake. Not only there is no recognised government (and thus tax system and labour laws), but clearly siting the manufacturing facilities in such a remote location bodes no good (as well as making poor logistic sense for the supply of raw resources).So, clearly, the position encourages the violation of basic human right to a living wage. I would like to know how much are the gnomes paid per hour. Huh? Answer me this! You can not! You are complicit in this farcical off shoring operation!

Fifth, the environmental impact. I can not begin to describe how disturbed I am by the notion of a large manufacturing facility sited in the pristine wilderness. The fragile ecosystem can not support the stress placed on it by this mad-mans industrial empire. Once again I charge you with complicity in crimes against nature!

Sixth, 'Mature age candidate'? This clearly violates the Equal opportunity laws in Australia. I will be making a complaint to the commissioner forthwith.

Seventh, the insane schedule that this job entails can only be achieved by bending the laws of physics and intravenous use of amphetamines. Both activities frowned upon by the law, common sense and the recruiters association of Australia or whatever industry association the fool who wrote this ad will be tarred and feathered and ridden out of town for bringing the good name of recruiters in disrepute. Little wonder the current incumbent is clearly driven insane by the unforgiving deadlines, as manifested by his clear obesity problem, lunatic laugher and anachronistic attire. I bet there is not even any medical insurance with the role!

All in all, it is a disgraceful, fallacious and highly dubious example of recruiters art.

You, dear sir/madam, are highly deserving of a lump of coal in your stocking this Xmas!

Signed,
Yours (very indignant)
-Signed-.

On the job front, my new tart corporate-ho resume is making recruiters interested with 2 bites so far versus 10 applications. This is a good ratio, given that the applications were very off-hand. I have high hopes that the contract I have set up with Ibrahim, the Turkish gray-market organ donor inermediary for my spare kidney, retina and half a liver will not have to be cashed in just yet.
I expect to be once again gainfuly (using the word very losely) employed by the end of January. Looking forward to the holliday.

BASTARDS STOLE BABY JESUS!

True! This is not a diatrabe against the spirit of Christmas being stolen by the neo-capitalist marketing-industro-military compex. Whatever the hell that means. The spirit of Christmas that is. The cathartic ritual of purging the sins of excess and absence from the loved ones is in full swing, the city streets choked with the xmas buyers. So much so that an SMS took 2 hours the other day to arrive to my handset, so much for instant communication. Though to call it Xmas would insult the minorities, unless of course the minorities are the majority and can influence the PC speak, Political Correctness not Personal Computer, thought I'd qualify that being a geek. As is the case in the US where the Xmas is no longer about Christ but about 'Holliday' season. Even though it is. [nervous facial tick]

Stolen, like a cheap piece of papermache/gypsium that the whole fracas farce is.
There is a nativity scene in front of a Church near my home, very pretty, lifesized figures of the main cast, including a figure of a Lamb (representing the voting public) and the figure of Ass (representing the politcian). I recon they should have nailed the baby Jesus to the ground. Though the irony of it does not escape me.
Where is the spirit of XXXmas when even baby Jesus is not safe from the thieving hordes. Though no doubt it was the terrorists. The heathen, no-good, anti-christian terrorists. Fundamentalist religious fanatics that shall be purged from the face of this good gods earth and cast into the fiery pits of hell where their soul-less selves belong. Cast there by the righteous might of our Christian moderate army purging the satans minions from the oil rich (and thus sacred, lord praise the SUV, the plastic bag and the oil futures, Amen) lands.
Yes, yes, yes. I know the REAL reason baby jesus is not there. But since truth is no longer necessary for a good story, I thought I would jump on the bandwagon.

Hallelujah, in our religious zeal we have purged Fallujah of all the heathen zealots , slaying thousands of innocent in the process (but you can't make an omlet (or democracy) without breaking a few eggs, right?), looks like finally we are bringing the true face of democracy to Fallujah. Is this what the future holds for us, here in the 'civilised' world? Obviously not, only tin-foil hat wearing paranoid, consipacy theory, lunatics would hate freedom so much to even suggest this. I for one, welcome our new, democratically elected, overlords!

The elections and the war in Iraq are shaping well, with the road between the Baghdad airport and the Green Zone being completely unsafe. Good to see that all those lives (on both sides) sacraficed in Fellujah were not lost in vain.
At least its money well spent. All 160 BILLION dollars of it. I guess this is the price of peace, 6 billion dollars per month the running US bill for the war. Explain to me again please why the US dollar is collapsing again?

I am so overjoyed by these just, uplifting and desirable developments that I have bought myself an escape pod from this planet. So, really, there is no need for the secret government ninjas to put dioxin into my borsch. I am well and trully harmless. I will be sitting in front of my TV, zombie like, honeing my reflexes and removing any trace of consience at killing other human beings (pixelised though they are, just like in the sights of our wonderful, taxpayer funded, feel-safe, plush, family friendly peace making machines. This will come in handy when the time comes to bring democracy to the Chinese and we all will be drafted to fight the terrorists and defend the Christiandom. Because, of course, this war, like all the wars before it, is the war to end all wars.

The other day I came across this line;
"In war, there are heroes on both sides." - Something worth remembering in our 'impartial' deliberations and media coverage.
Conversely, and equally true;
"In war, there are war criminals on both sides.".
So, once again and for the record, I always thought this war was a bad idea.
But, for a portfolio of Halliburton,GM and Lockheed shares I will most certainly change my mind. Alternatively, a carte-blanche, 'Get out of the re-education camp free' card when inevitably we set them up to purge the terrorist loving libertarians. But maybe I am worried needlessly. Surely such a fair minded mob that we Australians are, would never allow prisons on our own land, holding people without trial for indetermined time.


Australian government spreading christmas compassion and good cheer. But hey, if it wins elections, why should we treat these people with the respect they deserve? (Photo: (C) Linday Moller)

Surreal, seems to be the theme for my conversations this last few days.
First, hanging with my friends G. T. J. and R. playing PS2, imbibing and generally relaxing after a hard week of work. G. was playing Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas in essence a game full of mayhem, crime and destruction. G. walks into a store, the game is quite sophisticated and allows to customise the character to quite a degree. G. is buying all the bling, tshirts and pantaloons that no self respecting gangsta would be drive-by-shot by in without (Englez parfavor?). R. looks at the screen with ever increasing degree of discomfort (think bunny in the lights of a truck). G. asks, "How does this look?", modelling a Tshirt. Bear in mind, this is VIRTUAL shoping, in-game. Finally, R. blows up, "Stuff this mate! I can't stand shopping with the missus, I am sure as hell not going to do this in my downtime!" and goes home :)

My second surreal conversation at a Xmas party I got invited to. The hostess doing the headcount at 3AM with the corpses of the partygoers still warm in various stages of repose, scattered around the house. 'This one gets invited again, this one gets the voodoo doll, this one gets the horse head shipped in the mail.'. There was something very Kafquesque about the whole process. I must be turning gay. The entire party (or rather 90% of the time) I have spent talking to the women. Call me weird but I find the company of women more interesting then men. Must be the whole 'to the thirsty man, every hole is a well' scenario. Hmmm... that did not come out right somehow.
Strangely enough, I have enjoyed the entire experience enormously. Met a lot of wonderful women, alas no phone numbers :(

There are a couple of things I am going to buy when I get a new assignment, naturally, it will be unseemingly highly paid with the commesurate lessening of effort necessary to bring the loot home (much like my current assignment).


First, this motorised board. A custom made leg breaker, at a mere A$700 is no doubt going to provide me with uncounted hours of fun...or at least until I break a leg or get bored, whichever comes first. This is naturally contingent on whether the motor is 200Watt or smaller, since that is the limit for the device allowed on bike-paths.

Second, I am pretty much set on the Z3. I have researched it with some depth and given about $35-$40K I can get a reasonable model. I have come across a number of after market options, including this solid shell roof making a rather fetching, neo-classic vehicle. Though I do need the 6Cylinder option since the 4 is in a word 'weezy' and greately underpowered.

I am a good man, really. Do not need a car to fill the hole where my soul would be. Honest and for true! Come on baby ride with me!

Ah, all this crass comercialism and shallow dearth of character and depth makes me want to finish on the now customary characteristic pontificatory and pretentious note. The other morning, waiting for my drug dealer to provide me with the cup of hot Jave for the day (Soy Latte Alto to take away) this heroic Telstra (local telecommunication company) technician was working on connecting some wires in a pit.


A minion of Arachne of the Internet age.

I took this shot for a number of reasons;
a) Because I could.
b) Because it is something so mundane, important and will fade into obscurity in time with the advent of the wireless telecomms. As such, it is a moment to be captured and preserved, together with the horse buggy whip makers and slide-rule assemblers.
c) There is another layer to this scene, the wires, like the threads of fate Arachne wove, will connect hundreds of thousands of voices, human tragedies, joys, loves.

And so, it is time to finish for now with a...

LINK OF THE DAY

What happens when a childrens book is crossed with the mind bending evil immortal lord from the end of time?

Tales of the plush Cthulhu...

ICONOCLAST HEDONIST

Yes Wulf is being pretentious again.

I had gone to see 'The Ring of Nibelung' cycle opera 'Sigfried' (the third one). An acquintice of mine (CG.) has acquired by stealth or by wealth some tickets to a rebroadcast of the show. Allow me to explain the ticketing situation to the Ring Cycle. Yes there are some tickets to be had. The acquisition of the said tickets includes one or possibly two of the following techniques;
a) obscene amount of disposable personal income.
b) violence, untimely death, and the disposal of persons remains.

I had intended to go to see the 'Ring Cycle' French production in SA when it was first produced in 1998. This was done as a kind of sweetener after SA lost its F1 Grand Prix (Due to an incredible example of bueraucratic bungling). The idea beeing that Wagner always intended to hold the opera as a 'small city festival'.
Well, yes, most emphatically this noble idea has been well thought out by our glorious leaders. Though as far as Wulf can see, the interpretation of 'folksy small city festival' is translated to banners along King William Street and a number of invitation only, black tie functions for the people who can afford the $2400 A grade seats to the opera.

Did I mention the $2400 A grade tickets? Unless of course you would like to slum it in the Syberian seats at $600. Still, Wulf was prepared to live on dogfood and roadkill for a couple of months just to polish some of those rough edges off my persona (having broken a couple of industrial strength grinders in the process).

Though the opera I attended was only an opera 'Retransmission', a la-de-dah way of saying 'Lets watch the grand final on the wall projector I sneaked out from work, and oh, no you can't talk and you can't drink booze either'. It was nevertheless enjoyable. Now, let me think about the appropriatness of the word enjoyable in describing 'Sigfried'...ummm... enjoyable in the same way that one feels after your root canal session at the dentist has just finished. Thank the lord above that it is over!



An all SA production, minimalistic stage set design, apparently after all the expensive overseas producers and consultants were paid, there was not enouch money for some cardboard and paint. Modernistic costumes (ie:Wotan with bionocs) added to the sense of confusion. 'When is this meant to be happening? Legendary? Yes, here is your bus ticket, STFU.'. photo shamelessly ripped off SMH (c) Sue Adler.

No, seriously, this opera is in a dire need of a hollywood script make over.
Here is an example of the script from Act II, where Wotan meets Albrecht.

Wotan: I have balls.
Abrecht: You have balls?

Wotan: Yes I have balls.
Abrecht: Balls?

Wotan: Balls.
Abrecht: You have you balls you say?

Wotan: I do say, I have balls!
Abrecht: Balls!

Wotan: Balls.
Abrecht: Balls.

Wotan: ...BALLS!
Abrecht: You do indeed have balls.

And so ad infinitum, ad mortem defecata!
Or as a teenager of today would succintly sum it up, GAY!

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD! HAVE MERCY!
The script sucks. And blows. At the same time!
The entire show could have easily been retold in 3 hours instead of 17, still maintaining all of the character development and all the 'inside' numbers that the Wagnerian afficionados (sad, sheltered, compulsive obsesives of germanic descent with a closet affection for Mr.Hitler and trains running on time, with apologies to all the Wagnerian afficionados who are not, all 2 of you).


During the meal break (an indictment in itself, an opera with a bloody DINNER BREAK in the middle ffs?!) CG sighted this noir street scene. The empty table of the feast of my soul... my veins are emptying into the hot tub as I watch this cheerful scene.

Nevertheles, a good time was had by Wulf, appearances notwithstanding.

BUT WAIT... THERE IS MORE!

Friday after work drinkies Wulf and CH. had met to see 'Hero' a Zhang Yimou movie (he of the 'Crouching Tiger, hidden dragon'. CH. is a big fan of CTHD and after seeing the shorts for HERO, I needed to see it too with someone who was into the artform. Especially since CH. is an art grad and thus highly attuned to the nuances of art. CH. is one of my old casual acquintices who looks like becoming another one of my platonic friends (the Curse of Wulfs)[shrug].

Review in a word?
AWESOME.
Zhang Yimou, is a master of poetic camerawork, colors, movement and emotions blend in one continuous brushstroke marking the rice paper canvas of the plot. The ink turns and twists like the arabesque of chinese character at the same time keeping us speech less at its exotic beauty.

The movie, though not spectacularly successful, is a triumph lasting as long as it has in the mainstream cinemas, considering its a foreign movie. Certainly not the product placement/moralistic tales for the plebians that Hollywood insists on calling entertainment.


Magic. This still photo does no justice to the continuous, enchanting, moving experience that is HERO

The only criticism, and that is solely looking at it from the individual-centric worldview of the Western mind is the propaganda aspect of the movie which becomes compelingly clear towards the end. Something the Chinese may not even see as bad, indeed, I am sure they believe it is very right.

Five stars out of Five on the Wulf scale.

ENCHANTED

In a word? Wish you were there!
The sikrit location Enchanted No.7 (allegedly the last one) was held in Port Gawler. 36Km from my house to the millimeter. My mobile thought it was at "Two Wells", probably the last UNJAMMED cell station. Not exactly in the middle of nowhere as I expected but far enough to worry about the knocking noise in my L33T trasnportation as I breached the sound barrier of 110Km/h. An anectode springs to mind, an early aviation pioneer was asked how he knows the speed his aircraft travels at. "Well", he says, "When I hit 50, my engine sputters, why I hit 70, my stick breaks and when I hit 80, my wings fall off". My hairstylist is SO burned! His 'contacts' were telling him Enchanted was going to be down south this year. Stick to what you do best man! Cut the hair FFS!

I have arrived safely to my destination, though I parked the car ontop of some concrete/pipe arrangement clearly designed to stop the chinese invading tanks when the come onto the beach. Bend the front fairing and at the time I suspected cracked the oil pan but I though; "Screw that! Im here to party and no busted car is going to stop me".


Shot from about 500m away, 4 stages and the atmosphere can be felt from the distance.



I was by myself, since none of my friends was young enough/into the music enough/was washing the hair on the night or whatever. I was a bit worried that my attire was a bit outre (Cammo pants, E-Superman tshirt, boots, Gell spiky hair), I was pleasantly surprised I fit in. The crowd though young as a rule was very cool. There were a few crusties like myself but all were hardcore enough not to stick out.
The chiX0rz wore funky synth fur leggins, the blokes, baggy fluro pants, Council workmen vest were a big hit and I am sure I saw a few biohazard suits. The ammount of LED/glowstick bling was amazing. EVERYONE had some glowing shit. I felt SO DARK!
I really wish my watch would glow constantly rather briefly, would fit right in.


MAXIMUS GLOSTIK, Seriously funky glo bling, PC grade neon tubes with bumpack powersupply

Took a number of shots with my Sharp GX-30, a couple of actually suprisingly good quality (check out the photos below).

The music was awesome, raw sets spun there and then. I did not realise how different DJ's sound at the rave. This is their natural environment, not locked up in a commercial club. None of the 'techno-pop' crap you hear at Heaven. All new/fresh sets. After casing the layout, I circulated between the Big Dog and Adrenaline stages where hardcore, energy techno was the form.

I had high hopes for 'The Crystal Method' and whilst the set was not much like their CD stuff, it had the energy and rawnes that only a genuine, uncanned electronica can bring. I got into it with ease.

What I liked most about the whole experience is the atmosphere. Really friendly, very much like a folk festival but with better music and energy. I was offered water (did I really look that tripped out?) and people initiated conversation with me AND THEY WEREN'T ASKING ME TO SELL THEM STUFF!
Whoa! I had gone home far too early for my liking, I went to the car around 3AM (had a stash of energy drinks and glucose) sat down and OMFG! My knees screamed in relief and pleaded for mercy 'No MORE, PLEASE!'. I am getting far too old for this kind of abuse.

I do hope the threat that this will be 'the last one' is mere hot air. Large Raves like this need to go on forever.


Atmosphere with a capital E. Click for large size.


Can not look at these images and not want to be there again! Sigh. Click for large size


Largest of the 4 stages was the 'Big Dog'. By the virtue of the sets being played. Click for large size


The sun is coming out and its the middle of the night... Click for large size

SUBHUMAN!

The RED CROSS has presented their report on Camp-X ray in Guantanamo bay to the US today. Apparently, the prisoners are being tortured [shrugs]. Big deal, they probably deserved it, being dully convincted by a court of law, I mean we in the west, in a democracy put people in jail only after due process, dont we?

Unless of course those people are SUBHUMAN.
Watching my favourite comedy channel, the FOXNEWS, Hannity and Holmes program, a fine upstanding Ex-CIA operative (interrogator) by the name of Wayne Simmons was interviewed and called the arab captives 'subhuman'.
Now, ordinarly when such a fine upstanding example of the human species makes similarly remarkable statement, I believe that it is best not to mention them by name. Along the old proverb of 'Your unremarkable career will be quickly forgotten'.

I however think that Wayne needs to be remembered in the hall of fame of humanity finest, together with other fine humans who thought other humans were 'subhuman'.

Warning, the following links contain graphic images of the result of one human thinking others are subhuman. It seems we need a reminder of the consequences of this way of thinking.

The most obvious example of subhumans.

Not so famous example of subhumans by our good trading partners.

These superior humans called the subhumans, roaches.

These people (sorry subhumans) just slipped and fell of the stairs, all 1.5 million of them. Rather unfortunate accident.

Growing up in eastern europe, with school tours to the Nazi deathcamps part of my upbringing, I often wondered; "Why? How? How did the people of the day allow other humans to be annihilated in such a way?".
Calling your enemy 'subhuman' is a damned good way to start another genocide.
Of course, these days, we are far more civilised in annihilating the subhumans.

Those who do not know the history, are bound to repeat it.

DEMON APPLIANCE

As some of you may know, I own a possesed appliance. Namely, my dish washing machine has been possesed by an unholly spirit and akin to Linda Blair she of the Exorcist fame spinning head and projectile vomiting pea soup it is causing me unholy entertainment in my kitchen. I have to babysit it with a crucifix in one hand and a bible in another least it make a horrible sucking noise midway through the fill cycle and void its putrid liquid onto the floor to the cacophony of a horrid mechanical cackling.

Naturlay, there is no way a human being can repair this possesed appliance. The few repair men who had the fortidude to gaze into its horrid, putrifying maw, made terrible noises that sounded very much like 'Eeeerrrghhh... controller unit, errrhhhh $200... Gaaaah.'. Naturally, being a fine Christian (or at least baptised) I take their gurgling, torturous utterances to be a sign of transference secondary possesion and loss of mental faculties.

Still, I find if I perform the ritual of purification and clensing, hold its maw in a certain way and pronounce the lords prayer, the seed of belzeebob (an incompetent cousin of blezeebub, cast down to earth to posses kitchen appliances) possesing the dish washing machine flees temporarily and my mold covered utensils and wine goblets are somewhat cleaner than before, though many are smashed to bits when the wrathful entity returns. Bah, it would be so easy to pronounce the appliance forsaken and in need of a rebirth. But, yeay, verity, I ask unto thee! We should give each and every whitegoods the opportunity to redeem itself. Though the newfangled, silverclad appliances are guilty of the sin of guile and hubris and as such shall be cast upon the mountain of refuse when the fad passes. Amen.

ENCHANTED T-2

Enchanted Forest T-2 (2 Days to go to they who do not speak militaria/geek).This is the last Enchanted Rave held outside of town (1h drive) and as such, the organisers are claiming a righteous set. Worth attending just for The CRYSTAL METHOD, also Pendelum (of Fresh FM hit fame) + zillions of other DJs.

This is the thread with all the latest announcements (including location posted 1 day before): Raveadelaide.

For the love of god. If there is ANYONE out there who feels like partying to hard core electronica, please let me know. I really do not want to go alone. Big Wulf is scared... of being called a LECH, (Waves to the Witch) :) But seriously, lets GO, its FUN, Mail, Comment, SMS, Carrier pigeon me!

100 THINGS TO DO BEFORE YOU DIE

...or in the case of WULF, transcend into a higher being.
This article here a list by scientists. Pretty cool ideas. Did you know you can climb a mountain higher than Mt.Everest?

Will have to compose my own list, but off the top of my head (some of these I obviously thought about);

Become a (good) father

Go to the Love parade in Germany.

Go to the Burning Man in Nevada.

Go to the b1gg3st HaXor conf3rence (I fight for the user)

Climb onto a volcano

Ride a Clydesdale.

BUNJEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

RIO FESTVAL!

Fly to orbit (or the moon if commercial flights are available)

Regenerate back to the age of 20 ;)

Write a novel/book - maybe even make some money on it.

Look back at my life at its end and not regret too many things I have not done.

Make love in the rain, ideally in the rain, in the seashore breakers (those who know me are now trying to poke their eyes out at the imagery, kek)

HALF LIFE 2 - FINISHED

I have to say with a heavy heart, I have finished it. The last few levels were so hard. Not because of the level difficulty, but because of these 'squad' members that kept dying. You see, in the last few levels, the populuce rises up to fight the evil aliens. Unfortunately, the survivability of the 'troopers' is equivalent to the longevity of Howards electoral 'non-core' promise after the election day.

The game lives up to its reputation, keeps the twists and innovation going until the very end, though certain formula is inevitable ('The government man' for those in the know). If anything the ending is uplifting because it guarantees HL3 :)


Non spoiler ending. PHULEEESE!!! Did this archivilian not learn anything from the countless Hollywood movies? You do not explain your evil plan to take over the world to your captive good guys! FFS!

On a final note, the often reviled STEAM a HL2 distribution, mindcontrol spyware is actually very cool, with new updates and free games popping up frequently. My soul and demographics data are cheap, just give me free software!

LINK's OF THE DAY

http://www.truthout.org

Everyone has had more sex than me A cutesey animation to a song by 'TISM'. Do you ever get the feeling that a songs lyrics could be a soundtrack to your life?