Hic Sunt Dracones

Summer is ending
The gym is a painful place
yes you confirm it.

Actually summer isn’t ending. It was just faking us out. One day the Haiku police will bitch slap me for my rubbish poems. But I like the simplicity of the rules. I tend to suck at anything more complex. I’m sure there is some kind of free style poetry where they damn the man, and anything goes, but those anarchists are crazy (man).

I went to a Yoga/Pilates/Tai Chi course called body balance last week at the gym with Nina. It was pretty good. I like the frog pose, it is ridiculous. Facebook has evidence. Facebook as expected is the devil.

Last night I went to body balance again. Except cunningly it hid from me downstairs in a totall different room. So I ended up at body COMBAT. Body combat is significantly more demanding and hard than balance. Which I guess makes sense. Also, I didn’t look to unco at body balance. body combat? Oh yeah, that’s a giant munt trying to kick.. in time to music? That’s some comedy right there. Today my arms and legs are sore. And we are reminded that while boxers might tend towards stupidity and brain damage, they are hella fit in the interim.

Tonight, Mr Stick and I will head to the semis of Hockey. Make some noise.

OK, so it’s 2am, and I’m now $185 poorer than I was, and yet seemingly not $185 drunker, or at least not really drunk enough for er, for my opinion I suppose. Drinking: It’s what you do to stop getting bored. As far as I can tell. Except tonight when there were lots of people to talk to that for once weren’t boring. But still, when one is drinking, everyone should be drinking. And not beer and wine and other sissy drinks. It should be my sissy drinks or nothing. Also, discovered a new breed of Tequila. I’ll call it “yummy.” Even the girls drank it and declared it “didn’t taste as horrible as normal” which is surely a ringing endorsement.

And now, POWERTHIRST.

You will watch it, and you will laugh. And you better do both, or I will come around to your house with a shovel. And remember, if God gives you lemons. Get a new God.

Powerthirst the first.

Powerfirst the second.

I want energy legs. Also, Si may have made this. It is completely possible. I want to memorise these. And add them to my lexicon of silly and useless gratuitously over used popular culture (or geek culture) nerd phrases. I’ll do my best.

At a press conference in Palmerston North today inquiry head Detective Senior Sergeant Chris Bensemann said all the medals had been recovered yesterday in good condition and had been verified as being those stolen from Waiouru.

I was very unimpressed when these were stolen. Both with the security and with the burglars. I hope the army guards them better in the future.

Good job, The Police, and thanks to Lord Michael Ashcroft and Tom Sturgess for putting up a $300,000 reward for information, that worked. Hurrah.

Now, will someone please unleash the SAS on these crims around whose neck the net is apparently closing?

Then come you on and do your worst! We reject your claim and scorn your master!

- Prince Patrick ConDoin Shards of a Broken Crown

Right, the story of how Luther got his groove back.

I’m a terrible RATM fan. Nic and others tell me that throughout the year of 1995 when we (so many moons ago) were bad arse seventh formers, Killing in the Name was on almost constant rotation in the Common Room. (Which is interesting (maybe) in that it was from an album released in 1992) However, I wasn’t too comfortable in there, and only remember a few times where I actually hung out. Though it did have a Coke machine, and therefore wasn’t all bad. Anyway, I don’t really recall hearing the song too much, and even if I did hear it, I didn’t really get into it. Or maybe I did, and it was simply that some things which should not have been forgotten, were lost. OK….

Whatever the situation was, I didn’t rock out to it until the end of the year, when I assume Radio CD Red? Played it enough. And it was good.

In 1996 they released Evil Empire, and as far as I can recall this had absolutely no impact upon me at all. Even today the songs on that album are my least known. (The primary single being Bulls on Parade) though Vietnow with the lyrics “Turn on the radio, nah fuck it turn it off” gets some great response in concert. But at the time this was missed more than their debut.

Then in late 1999 they released Battle of Los Angeles and it was on for young and old. (Have I asked where the hell this phrase came from?). Guerrilla Radio and Sleep Now in the Fire rocking my socks off. And I bought the album. And it rocks. Somewhere around here I must have also met Mr Bryce. He of the Queen, and of the Rage.

He is interesting in that i distinctly remember the first time we had any real interaction (well I think so). It involved the “glad eye” if you’re interested.

But verily, he was a Rage fan and verily Rage released RAGE, or should that be RAGE released Rage (as distinct to their debut album which was self titled so that’d be RATM:RATM while me calling them Rage is really just annoying you no isn’t it. RATM:RAGE. And MAN.

Does that album ROCK. For they ARE the Renegades of Funk. This album was released after the band broke up, (well the singer left, but they’d already recorded it, so shake your money maker) and it is entirely a covers album. But it is definitely my favourite.

Hence I’m pretty sure this makes me the worst Rage fan ever. My favourite album? Oh yeah, that covers album they did. That rawked. Ah well. I’m not sure which is my favourite song of theirs, and it could be that it is indeed one of their own, rather than a cover, but taking the albums as a whole, yup covers for the win.

Then they were Audioslave, who had one decent album and then one single off the second and then they split up. And then Zach came back (possibly with a hat) and performed at Coachella and Claire and Sunshine and Co went. And I didn’t. I gnashed my teeth. But then they headlined the BDO. And I rejoiced. And got me a ticket. And then they said “and we’ll do some standalone tickets” and I rejoiced a bit more. And then I failed to get a ticket. And then I played free market auction games for a bit looking for a ticket. And I got one. And Bought Now the wrong one… ’cause I’m a thickie. But it was all good. And I got my ticket, and off I went.

To Festival Hall on a hot Wednesday night, with Nathan, (once called the impregnator, but apparently we no longer mention that particular war.). Arrived to find a number of queues, arrayed around the outside of the building, not too long (due to having many entrances) and moving reasonably quickly. Wandered around the building to our door. Got told my bag was too big. Even though Nathan’s man bag (as opposed to my perfectly masculine back-pack) was a similar size and made it through fine. No worries, I’ll go to the bag check, although I have to walk around 75% of the building to get it due to security, and off I go. Ask a boss looking security guy about what the size limit was (in a non confrontational manner) and the line was “the guy on the door is right” although they showed some surprise that my bag as denied (especially as I as going “upstairs” to the seated area, not the OMGMOSH pit) but it’s all good. So queue up and ditch my bag for some paltry fee. Walk back to my door only to be told that I can no longer enter through that door, and should go back to the door that is now open. And right by the cloak check. Bah! Get to ticket people, they pat me down, but don’t object to my camera. The woman looks a bit interested in my ticket – which looked like it was water damaged or something – but let me in. Good oh.

End of Side One.

As far as I’m concerned, Rendition is the ultimate Valentine’s Day date movie. Yup. (Comes out in .AU today)

Happy birthday to Sara, and happy anniversary to Waz, Mrs Waz and the Riddermark.

So what’s up in the cold light of day? Or, rather, comma, what is up with the cold light of day? As opposed to the warm light of night? I suppose it alludes to people getting excited about something late and night, presumably while drunk and warmed by their excitement or alcohol blanket, but really when did the light get cold?

And.

“Dob in [someone] for [something]“, what’s that about? My quick trawl delivered some little information from phrases.org.uk. The most interesting aspect for me being that you can apparently also “dob in to buy a present for …” and “dob the ball through the goalposts” in Aussie rules. I’ve never heard the present one, I’d go with “chipping in”, but I may have heard the AFL one, and just thought I misheard. Well there you go.

Yup.

Ronald Reagan has a stack of three-by-five cards in his lap. He skids up a new one: “What advice do you, as the youngest American fighting man ever to win both the Navy Cross and the Silver Star, have for any young Marines on their way to Guadalcanal?”

Shaftoe doesn’t have to think very long. The memories are still as fresh as last night’s eleventh nightmare: ten plucky Nips in Suicide Charge!

“Just kill the one with the sword first.”

“Ah,” Reagan says, raising his waxed and pencilled eyebrows, and cocking his pompadour in Shaftoe’s direction. “Smarrrt — you target them because they’re the officers, right?”

“No, fuckhead!” Shaftoe yells. “You kill ’em because they’ve got fucking swords! You ever had anyone running at you waving a fucking sword?”

- Cryptonomicon

Khmer Rouge leader asks for bail…. Good luck with that. As Will said, “man, the KR was a BAD TIME.”

I’m a nerd, and I’ll watch this documentary.

I had a poke at a massive collection of songs which claim to be the top 1000 songs from the last X period of time. I can tell you that they’re far too German and far too crap for that title. I have also found that Slave to the Music is missing. Which is unacceptable. I demand you go visit that youtubery and ROCK OUT to it. Many moons ago a certain Doctor now married to another one certainly got our youthful rock on to it.

This blog brought to you by me slacking and not writing one of the ones I’ve somewhat considered writing about. I am somewhat obviously home from NZ. The most important thing that occurred there was pretty much Dan beating Tom Morello in Guitar Hero III.

I really like movies. I can only assume Morgan Freeman needed a new roof, but the guy ends up with pistols akimbo jumping through a window, how can I not go and see it? Michael Caine and Demi Moore… together at last. Hopefully I’ll soon be seeing Jumper. Basically someone thought “Do you know what would be cool?.. Teleporting, yeah that’d be cool.” And added some kind of war, and BAM. Instant males aged 12-100 will be there. Dragging some few girls along too. I mean… Who wouldn’t want to be able to teleport?

Additionally, anyone who doesn’t go and see Charlie Wilson’s War, should get on board the fail boat. It’s not only tells an awesome story, but it’s written by Aaron Sorkin which means that you’ll be made to feel intellectually inferior to the dialogue.

Which reminds me, if you didn’t get this, then you should perhaps look at this or, less likely (for those reading that comic) this. Linking things in with the word “this” is of itself, somewhat fail. (It’s getting late folks)

A film I won’t go see is RAMBO XVI. I’ll laugh at it though. And no doubt watch it on DVD. PS, How, How, HOW did AVP get enough money to bring us AVP2:Requiem or something? Is it my fault? I think it might be. Damn my eyes.

Back to the Nerdiness. I’ve liked to claim myself within the geek division, but I’ll admit, there are certain elements of nerdyness going on. Ben sent me a list. The knights who say “nerd”: 20 pop-cultural obsessions even geekier than Monty Python, oh, sweet. that says geekier not nerdier. Which allows me to retreat to my claim of division between the forces of Nerd v. Geek. Star Trek, yes. Ren Faires, no. Fantasy Sports Leagues, no. Michael Jackson(?), no. Wikipedia, Yup. BSG? Yup, but how nerdy can that be? I have MCS watching it, and Mog’s sister changed her Facebook photo to a BSG promotional picture! (PS. Facebook still sucks). The Rocky Horror Picture Show? No. (Except to rate Muldoon as awesome) Joss Whedon? Yes. I’d wear that tshirt, if it was a batter tshirt. (Though I do read the comic of the guy who designed the tshirt) Media-specific role-playing? No. The list goes on. MT:G? Ah yes, the truth hurts doesn’t it? I’m there. I’m there, I’m so there. Oh God, and now WOW. Well shit yeah. Me and 10 million others baby. Doctor Who? Yes, well the older stuff, I haven’t managed to see any of the new series, I had Ben relate it to me. Frank Zappa’s impact was naming his daughter Moon Unit, which made Austin Powers two hilarious. Ah the third page. Game show trading? What the hell. Anime? I’ve watched Uro-Sucko-Dodgy, and indeed, giant phalluses exploded through, well, everything. Some of it is cool Some of it is fricking whack, and most of it is watched by others. LARPING? That’s a paddling. Cosplay? That’s a paddling (ideally in the bedroom I assume) Argh, Facebook. I hate you. Fanfic? Can I take a “I didn’t inhale”? I’ve read it, but not written it. Unlike some others. But lets be honest, slash fiction is far more interesting.

In conclusion, yes I’m a damn nerd, but I only play one on TV.

In other news, having this goatee-beard thing requires somehow more shaving than not. Not really part of my plan. If you could call it a plan, more of a one man band.