that her dream is to one day quit whatever she was doing and open a small cafe where she would hold readings and philosophical discussions in the corner. And the way she explained it and then got embarassed when she caught herself babbling about it for just a little too long. If I could write this story any better, then I would be a much better writer than I am. Oh, how could that NOT be worth a song?

My weekend didn't quite go to plan and my Saturday night out was a complete waste of time [keyword to self: side bar] that I wish I could take back. But I'm sitting here in the dark in front of my 32" monitor after reading our chat archives and I'm grinning like a fool.

And my job is still up in the air after July and I have two holidays (one whose details are also up in the air) booked already so I'm pretty much immobile until September.

But I'm grinning like a bloody fool. I'm flying blind without a co-pilot. But, damn, I'm flying!

Viva life!

just found on Facebook this old friend of mine that I lost touch with. We had a short but nice bond for a little while and now it seems she's married. To the guy who, when we last spoke, had been a total dickhead to her. I mean, really bad...

I guess maybe they figured things out. Or maybe he changed his spots. Or maybe dickheads do finish first... seems to happen a lot.

But I gathered this info while going through some pics which I probably shouldn't have. Someone I don't know that a friend told me to 'check out'.

So fruit from the poison tree and all that. I can't use this to get her contacts. I would love to be able to say hi.

But I just hope you're doing OK and that these years have treated you kindly.

even though you know it's not really real, it's still nice. It's still nice to think someone cares. Someone loves you. Someone thinks the world of you. And yes it's not real. Only foolish people and those under the age of fifteen should expect anything other than that this game must end at some point. And most likely in a fizzle or a fit or a ful-blown tragedy.

But that doesn't really mean it should stop you from keeping on going. It's fun for the moment and so maybe you should just ride it out until the inevitable end when walls will weep and hearts will be plucked out and ground to a paste of infinite shrieking and gnashing of teeth.

Oh to be so dramatic!

But that's the game isn't it? To be played with full gusto and spirit until the bitter end. Or the unlikely scenario that you actually finish the game and you rescue the princess or the princess rescues you. What would happen then?

how am i supposed to know when you finally start meaning these things!

It's not a question. It's a demand.

And this all could be a waste of time. But it's only a waste of time if you have something better to do.

These are but tiny little sparks.
Let them breathe and they will grow.
Keep them in darkness and they will still shine.
But may they never be smothered or crushed or discarded.
May they never grow old and tired and stale.
May they never be ignored.
May they never be forgotten.
May they never die.

like his role in Monster's Ball where he died early. He was brilliant. A standout in that film, and then his character was snuffed. Suddenly. Unceremoniously. And it made a hole and left me, as the audience, wanting. Yeah I'm pretty bummed about Heath Ledger's death. I mean, not that I'm I'm crying or anything but I do feel it. He was young and he was very very talented. At 28, I dare you to name five other male actors of his generation who are more accomplished than he was. I don't think I could even name one. Imagine the amount of great films he could have amazed us with before he reached, say, Johnny Depp's age. The potential was massive. I'm not sure everyone understands that.

I've been asked 'what's the difference between his death and some guy off the street?' And yeah, probably in the cosmic scheme of things there is no difference. But the difference to me is that while he was alive, he entertained me. He inspired, excited and moved me.

My view of artists (whether they be actors, musicians, painters, writers or whatever) is that they entertain us. They make us feel things. And I don't care if they get paid millions (maybe because I would love to be one myself). They make my world better.

So I have to say that I'm sad to him go. He stil had a whole second act to do.

that work is normal again. I'm on top of things there. At least for a while. There's a To-Do list in my head that I feel I should complete. Some of the items are quite easy and others aren't. And maybe not all of them REALLY need to get done.

Writing more is one of them. But I am having a problem of not really caring. About anything. I just feel like having fun for a while.

I just watched Little Miss Sunshine and I liked it but I think it's really brought my mood down. I know it's a comedy but it's also absolutely brutal. So now I don't know what to write because I'm now distracted. I need to watch something lighter. Maybe Reaper.

You know how sometimes you open a jumbo packet of chips and it tastes good but you know that if you finish the whole pack you're gonna feel pretty miserable by the end of it? It's now I'm feeling now. Except I'm beating around the bush. I really need to stop

so was walking after work around the city. I went to the comic store like I do every Thursday (which is shipment day), but this time I went on. Wondering the city made me feel a little Holden Caulfield, except without the fascination with death. Actually I can’t really remember how much death was involved with the book but I just remember that it made me depressed to read it and I didn’t like it as much as many other people do. It didn’t help that I borrowed it from a friend of mine who was chronically melancholic. And he always said that it was his favourite book.

I don’t think I’ve ever really contemplated suicide, but if I did, well today wasn’t it. I’m not overjoyous happy, but I believe that I am in a good place and I have been for a while. It’s probably why I haven’t written anything. So the walk was a little aimless and I may have been a little restless. It may have had something to do with the eggs at home that were going to expire tonight. And I was sort dreading having to think about what to do with them. (In the end it all worked out fine. I’m not totally sure what a frittata is but I believe that what I made tonight is probably pretty close.)

Maybe it was because my apartment had more than a few empty bottles (emptied by multiple people, mind you. I haven’t been binge drinking at home!) lying around and it was looking messy for the first time. I’m always afraid of times when everything goes downhill. Like, well this could be the day that I stop caring and I’ll get messy again.

Maybe it was that I had planned to see a movie tonight with a friend who never ended up replying to my email. Not that it upset me, because truth be told I am tired tonight and would rather be at home. But it’s this habit of mine. I make plans to go see people and it’s like I already have it in my head that it’s going to happen before they even tell me whether they can make it or not. So when they can’t make it, it’s a big disappointed. On my more elaborate plans, I even have conversation topics prepared.

But no matter. I was just walking around.

I have a crush (and I believe ‘crush’ is the appropriate term to use in this case) on this girl who, as far as I know, I cannot have. And I was thinking about her as I walked into the bookstore. While I did momentarily get distracted by a plastic slip case adorned with the image of Batman on the cover of Detective Comics #27, I was mostly thinking about her. And then, as I went to the front counter to purchase the distraction, I bumped into one of her friends, which is interesting because I only met her last week (the friend, not the girl) but not really all that interesting because this friend did tell me when I met her that she worked at this bookstore. But to be fair to me, I really had forgotten. And to be fair to the coincidence, she wasn’t working tonight.

I realised that both these girls are sort of similar. They both have this charming awkwardness about them. It makes me a little awkward too. It’s like characters from the Gilmore Girls or something (which is one of her favourite shows) where everyone talks fast in order to fill the awkward silences and to make themselves sound as smart and hip and cool as they can be.

I also now realise that if she were to read this blog entry, then she would realise that it is her that I am talking about here. She’s pretty cluey like that. And also because I will write an email to her tomorrow and tell her that I bumped into her friend at the bookstore. But I doubt it, really. The only way I see that she would read this is if she specifically googled me and found my blog. And her doing so would imply that maybe my chances with her aren’t as bad as I think, in which case I wouldn’t mind her reading it. At the very least this would make her blush. A little. I’ll just have to remember never to mention to her that I have a blog when I’m drunk. Like the time I mentioned to my work colleague that I just went for a job interview that week. That was a good one.

The chance encounter with the friend wasn’t particularly exciting, but it sort of was if you know what I mean. And then after

Nothing much to report

I haven't touched blogs for ages. I have written or read any in a while, and I'm not sure that anyone still reads it except for Joeii. God bless her.

So, since the conjuctivitis, it's been fun fun fun. First there were the nose bleeds. In a period of three days, I had five nose bleeds (though I think they all stemmed from the first), which may not sound that amazing except that I've never had a nose bleed in my life. In the words of Comic Book Guy: 'First. Nosebleed. Ever.'

What else, after that there was the parking fine. Only my second ever. I guess I deserved it. Oh yeah, the Simpsons movie. That was good. So good that the next day I went out and bought two Simpsons boxsets. And Fracture. I saw that too. Not too bad. Ryan Gosling (besides being one of the luckiest guys in the world for dating Rachel McAdams) is looking like a yound Edward Norton. I love him already. He's with Christian Bale and Cillian Murphy in my short list of up-and-coming young(ish) male actors. No, I didn't leave Ryan Phillippe and Freddy Prinze off by accident.

Shortly after that, I ate the sushi of death. Well, that may be pushing it. But I did bite my lip, causing a massive ulcer, and also a piece of my tooth fell out. That led me to panicking and asking around for the nearest dentist. So I found one at Lemon Grove and I got an X-ray (actually three) and the destist tells me I need root canal treatment. So it's hello Dr Nick (no, that's not his real name) six more times and goodbye $3.5K. Excellent. I'm supposed to be planning my move out and my China holiday. At least the nurse is kinda cute. I'm 45% certain they're having an affair.

Here is a quick rundown of my dental visits so far:

1. Expected worst, but it wasn't too bad. Rating: 4/5 stars.

2. Got cocky. 'Meh, this dentist stuff is nothing.' WRONG. It's painful. Uncomfortable. And painful. If I had a choice, I would may have picked swallowing half a piece of Lego. But since I didn't get that choice. We'll never know. Rating: 1/5 stars.

3. I got some posts put in. I got no idea what that means. Rating: 3.5/5 stars.

4. Deep cleaning. Didn't feel a thing. Until I rinsed my mouth and dribbled blood and water because I couldn't feel my chin. Rating: 2/5 stars.

5. Got my dental imprint done. Because I have permanently restricted nasal passages (a lovely story for another day), I could feel myself losing consciousness due to a severe lack of oxygen. Now I have a temporary crown that feels like a tic tac, but doesn't taste as good and doesn't come with Kate Kelton. rating: 3/5

My sixth is next Monday.

OK, so on to last week. My friends Jo and Tony get married. But the day before that, I decide to have a couple of drinks with my workmate who was leaving. I figured two drinks and I'll be home with a pizza in my mouth by 9:30. WRONG. Change of plans. Another friend emails me and says she needs a drink desperately. And Leon is there. And more blonde babes than any drinks I've been to since Sweden. And I end up staying til 1:30. Home by 3:30. Next day, wake up for the tea ceremony by 7:30. (Oh yeah, as an aside, my friends were at Privilege bar that night. Yes, the infamous Asian den of cheap drinks and RnB. I went there the week before. I bumped into about 7 groups of people that I know, all of whom claimed that they never go there, except for Dung who said 'I'm ever every week. If you don't find me here, it means I'm sick' or words to that effect. I had an alright time but going there is a bit like watching porn. It's fun while you're there but you come out feeling seedy and a little sticky. Well that's what people who watch porn tell me it feels like. So last week, I refused to go back there and, all in all, Ithink made the right decision.) So yeah, the wedding. 7:30 start. Suit OK. Shoes a little grimy but doable. All I have is ankle socks. Fine, no one will notice. I have a hangover so I take some Panadol. i survive. Wedding is fun. Hanging out with Chune is fun and like nothing had changed at all (as a second aside, speaking of nothing changing, I had dinner with a couple I hadn't seen in ages. Me and another friend came late to dinner and we got scraps. Leftovers. Really. I had two pieces of tofu and the second last piece of pancake. We thought this was fine since we would have our proper dinner later. When it came time to pay the bill, BAM, the couple does an even split. $15 for scraps. Whatever. All I'm saying is, some things just NEVER change.) OK so the wedding, actually not much to tell. But it was fun. Maybe I was too tired to enjoy it to the most. But they're a lovely couple. I love couples that look like 'We're in love and we want to tell the world'. Not ones who look like 'I'm almost 30, I need to get married.' or 'God would like us to get married and have children, and besides, we can't stand not having sex with each other for much longer.' So yeah, best of luck to them. (Third aside, met a girl who's half Indo Chinese and is also a Kwee/Kueh/Kwok [however you want to spell it]. We MAY be related. Doubt it. Well, she's my Facebook friend now.) So that was that weekend.

Last week, we almost lost a basketball game in the last 3 minutes while I was sitting down. And then I came back on to save the day. At least that's how I imagined it happened in my head. In reality, coincidence may have played an equally important role in the result.

Wednesday, was meant to have dinner with the Chickens: Trevor and Mark. I had made a CD or sampled recordings and everything. This was the cover.

But a late call made me cancel. Instead I had tickets to see Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf at Belvoir. Now, I know I often go on about things I love, but trust me, this is one of the best stage productions you will EVER see. For me, it was the best play I've ever seen. And I've seen quite a few. Everything was just perfect. the actors, the set, the music. And I love Catherine McClements. She's still hot at 42. It was explosive, thrilling, creepy and downright sexy. It's times like these that I realise why I love drama theatre. Because there's so much crap out there see it's hard to remember. No movie experience could touch this. This will stick in my head for years to come. And because it's not a movie, I hate that I can't revisit this like on a DVD. I can't wait for holographic projection technology.

Next night is Ryan Adams. I knew forecast so seeing him play in near darkness wasn't too big a surprise. It was alright. He's an arsehole but I knew that too. Thing with Ryan is, since I got into his music 7 or 8 years ago, i've heard so many other singer/songwriters and bands and whatever, and to me, no one comes close. Ryan could get me edgy, thrilled, excited, emotional all in the one song. When I first heard him live, he came on stage looking uneasy and almost scared. But when he opened his mouth, it was downright angellic and not only I did i feel that, I felt the entire audience felt that. I felt that collective moment when everyone in the building held their breaths and it was almost like time froze. There was no cheering or chatter. It was mesmerising. If you don't believe me, then you just weren't there. Granted, there were no moments like this during this concert but it's him. I can forgive him for just about anything, unless he commits mass homicide somewhere. Even on CD, this guy's got a gift. Yes, all in all this concert was a disappointment, but I think that's because no critic of his (including myself) has ever held him to a reasonable bar. There are much better performers out there but Ryan Adams is Ryan Adams. Maybe if I had seen Dylan in person in the 60s, Ryan would be a pale afterthought, but I'll never quite know that. And in my generation, no one I've heard can even hold a candle to him. (Sincere apologies to my other 'hero', Jack White. I'll write about him in detail at some point. Promise.)

So that was that. But the night was tainted by the fact that my car got broken into in Enmore. Nothing was stolen except about $6 worth of coins and the triagular bit of the rear passenger side door was the only thing broken. I hate petty criminals. Like the person who broke into my apartment a few years ago. Why can't they just get normal jobs like the rest of us? I really wish there were vigilantes out there that just went around beating up thieves and bulglars. The world needs superheroes! Right now, I really wish I could beat up that person who broke into my car. And yes, I know it's not a Catholic thing to do.

Well, then friday, went to dentist, and then hung out with the usual gang for a bit. And saturday had out first practice in five weeks. We sounded pretty rusty but it felt great to get back into it. We really need to keep this momentum up. We got eight songs now. Sort of.

Finally, just a little thing (bigger than an aside perhaps). Throughout the years I've had this habit of hanging out with girls who have boyfriends and then eventually the boyfriends end up hating me. I find this really annoying because to this day, I've never done anything bad in any of these cases. So it's almost like I'm paying the time but not having done the crime. A couple of them have turned out pretty ugly. Now it might be happening again soon if the pattern keeps going. I've been hanging out with a friend of mine who does indeed have a boyfriend. In the past week, I've seen her three times one on one. And I would hate for it to ever get ugly in any way because I really have been enjoying hanging out with her. For now he doesn't hate me (I actually think he's a rather pleasant fellow) and maybe it won't come to that unless their relation gets rocky (no signs of that at the moment) but it's not like it's my fault. She asks to hang out with me as much as I ask her. And I've never said not to bring him along. He just never ends up coming. Yes, I do realise that it will only get harder since I'm older now. And the fact that I think she's really hot... maybe I should have mentioned that from the start.

Adventures in Conjunctivitisland

I probably should have gone home on Friday but I persisted with the trivia night even though my eyes were already bloodshot by then and excreting a sticky substance that looked like a cross between pus and snot.

On Saturday morning I woke up and had to peel the green crust that had locked my eyes shut tight. And my left eyelid was swollen and the redness was getting out of hand. In the words of Casey Jones from the original TMNT movie, 'I look like I just called Mike Tyson a sissy'.

Since then, I've been to the doctor, tried four types of eye drops and finally it's coming around. I've been home doing very little now for four days.

Back to work tomorrow.

The fun never stops.

Federer is really really good

I like Federer. I think he's the most likeable sporting superstar of my generation (and by superstar, I'm talking upper upper echelon once-in-every-20-years-type stars). Michael Jordan was too relentless, Tiger Woods plays too boring a sport, Michael Schumacher still is a dickhead and Ian Thorpe sells pearls.

Last night, Federer beat Nadal in a very tough 5-setter to win Wimbledon for the 5th time, equaling Bjorn Borg's record. If you care at all about tennis, then you've already heard this today a million times. But what was so great about last night was that it was by far the most difficult win of his career. I've witnessed at least half of Federer's grand slam victories and he's never looked so vulnerable. In fact, I think it's fair to say that Nadal was in fact the better player on the day (or at least the most consistent). Federer had a lot of trouble containing him.

But what was so impressive and memorable was that Federer had this turbo boost button that he managed to turn on everytime he needed it. In basketball terms, he was clutch.

Nadal had so much more momentum going into the 5th but Roger just willed his way to the championship.

By the end, I don't know how he managed to pull that off. But he did. Like an absolute true champion.

I don't know what Roger Federer's legacy will be. If he ends up winning 15+ slams then his legacy is cemented, but even if he doesn't win any more from now, he should still be in the argument for the greatest ever.

OK, I was gonna write more but I just realised that the Ryan Adams tickets I bought were standing BEHIND the seats because they've reconfigured the theatre for this show. I almost threw up a little in my mouth.

I’m a geek

So the most exciting news to come out of last week was the hint (yes, just a HINT) from George Lucas that there might be a new Star Wars movie in the works. Speculation says that it will be set way in the past, in the golden age of the Old Republic.

Now why is this exciting?

Only because that’s the setting of the GREATEST COMPUTER GAMES EVER!

Yes, I wasted many many hours playing Knights of the Old Republic and its sequel (The Sith Lords). I’d go as far as saying that I like the stories in these games even better than the Star Wars movies themselves. I know that sounds stupid. But it’s true!

Having said that, though, I know that George Lucas will end up writing and directing it, and then cast a crappy actor (Mark Hamill or Hayden Christensen) and the movie will be crap.

So here are my suggestions to make this potential movie good (no, GREAT!), and Mr Lucas, if you end up reading this, I was kidding about the whole ‘you’ll make this crap’ thing… honest! I love your stuff.

Star Wars Episode Zero: The Knights of the Old Republic

Director: Joss Whedon
Easy choice. Firefly shows he can do great space operas. Just the right balance of action, sentimentality and cheesiness. The movie would be in very safe hands.

Writer: Michael Chabon
Many credit his co-writing hand for giving Spider-man 2 the depth and gravitas that most comic book movies lack. I think he’s the best writer working at the moment and most people don’t even know who he is. And he is a mega geek. Perfect.

Cast

Bastilla Shan: Kate Beckinsale
Easy choice. Hot, British and has shown to be adept at playing an action hero (Underworld). The choice of who plays Bastilla could make or break the movie.

Carth Onasi: Ben Affleck
We need someone a straight, honest and clean-cut military man. Ben Affleck fits all that, and has just the right amount of self-righteousness for a supporting good guy.

Mission Vao: Emma Watson
She’d look perfect (with blue face paint and head tails) as the street smart Twe’lek kid.

Zaalbar: Christian Harimanow
Dear Mr Lucas
Please let me play Zaalbar. I would make a great wookie. I love wookies. I’m sure the acting won’t be so hard in a hairy suit and I don’t have to make my own sounds, right? Even if I do, I can do wookie sounds after a few drinks! I know I’m a little too short to be a wookie (what are they, like 6’5”?) but surely I can wear platforms or something. I love wookies. Please let me play a wookie. Please! Wookies rule!
Christian.

Canderous Ordo: Russell Crowe
He’d have to grey his hair. But Gladiator proved he’s got the voice and the toughness to play a hardened warrior.

HK-47: Hugo Weaving
Who else but Agent Smith could play a psychotic killer robot? And he was brilliant behind a mask in V for Vandetta.

Jolee Bindu: Ron Glass
This character is a Mace Windu rip-off and a token black guy. He should be played by Ron Glass who played the token black guy in Firefly and suits the character. A ref at KGV looks exactly like Jolee Bindu but I don’t think he’s an actor.

The Handmaiden: Keira Knightley
She’s tall, lean and athletic. Perfect to play an Echani warrior. She looks good with short hair too. Plus everybody loves her.

Atton Rand: Robert Downey Jr.
Downey plays the perfect dodgy sidekick who you’re not you can trust. He’s done it a million times. He’s a little old now but otherwise he’s perfect.

Kreia: Helen Mirren
Absolutely perfect. A hard-as-nails older woman who’s fit enough to convince you that she could kill you with a lightsaber (which rules out Judi Dench).

Juhani: Milla Jovovich
Athletic, has an accent and looks vaguely cat-like. With a bit of make-up, she looks positively Cathar.

Visas Marr: Scarlett Johansson
Nobody in Hollywood does sultry like Scarlett and no character in the games is more sultry than Visas. The only other person who might pull this off is Angelina Jolie, but nah. Scarlett is better.

Bao-Dur: Elijah Wood
I know he doesn’t look like him, but Wood plays earnest well and Bao-Dur is as earnest as they come. He could even get to speak like Frodo in this role.

Mira: Rachel McAdams
She’s hot and plays a comical bitch really well (Mean girls). I could believe her as a bounty hunter. My second choice would be Sarah Michelle Gellar.

Calo Nord: Vin Diesel
Calo Nord is all muscle and tough talk. And so is Vin Diesel. Easy.

Darth Malak: Gary Oldman
We’ve seen him play psycho villains before (The Professional, Fifth element). John Malkovich could pull this off too.

Darth Bandon: Colin Farrell
I admit this is purely because Bandon looks like Farrell’s Bullseye in Daredevil. But I stand by this choice.

Darth Sion: Tim Roth
He’s one of those off-beat actors that could do weird characters. Darth Sion is a dead guy whose flesh is kept together by the strength of the Force alone. That’s weird enough.

Darth Nihlus: Any bozo looking for work in Hollywood
Nihlus says nothing, is behind a mask and does limited fighting. Anyone could play him.

Revan: Edward Norton

After Kingdom of Heaven, I’m convinced there’s no better actor behind a mask (Hugo Weaving is one behind. Just.). And Norton could pull off the role of the fallen jedi. Just look at him. He looks unstable! (Except in Keeping the Faith). Revan is the most important character of this era. He’s gotta be perfect.

The Exile: Cillian Murphy
He’s in every movie these days. And for good reason. He’s a very flexible actor. He’d be perfect as a soul-searching exiled jedi. Johnny Depp could do it too. But then Johnny Depp can do anything.

And there you have it! The perfect Knights of the Old Republic movie!

Random thing I discovered as I was doing this post: There are heaps of naked pictures of Helen Mirren on the net. It was rather unsettling.

Also, Icky Thump is fantastic!

This is also fantastic!

Talking with Sleepwalker 23.05.07 7:24pm or thereabouts

Sometimes you frustrate me.

Other times, it's really nice and I laugh.

It's good to laugh.

Although some consistency would be nice.

But I guess that's not what I like about you.

And I do.

- What is that? A song? A poem?

- Maybe.

- It sucks.

- Thanks.

- You use 'nice' too much.

- I like 'nice'.

- I can see that.

- I'm not much of a poet.

- I can see that too.

- You're not nice.

- We can't all be.

There was this fat guy on the train who was trying to pick up these two girls. One of them was cute.

- And the other one?

- Stop interrupting.

So he asks them what nationality they are and the cute one says she's 'Aussie'. And the other one...

- The ugly one?

- I didn't say she was ugly.

- Was she fat?

...and the other one says the same thing and then he says 'I thought youse was lebo. Are you lebo?' and they say no and he says that he's 'half lebo' and they giggle and try to ignore him. Somehow though, he worms his way into sitting with them.

I mean, he's fat and he's unattractive.

- What are you trying to say? Did you want to sit with them?

- They were probably 18.

- So did you?

Anyway, then he says 'State of Origin is on tonight' and the cute one says 'Oh cool, who's playing?'

- Hey that's pretty funny. So what did the ugly one say?

- Nothing.

- So she was ugly.

- I didn't...argggh!

But they got up and told him that they were getting off next stop.

- And?

He let them go at first. But then he went up after them but they were gone. They didn't get off at the next station either.

- How did you know?

- Because I got off at the next station. And they weren't there.

- So you're saying they must have changed carriages or something just to get away from him?

So the girls were just... yeah, what you said.

- You liked that, didn't you?

- Actually, yes.

- That's not very nice.

- We can't all be.

And so as we walked home he asks 'what are you going to do about this?' and I say 'what?' and he says 'you know...' and I say that I want to go to sleep.

Sleepwalker says that I always say that when I don't want to talk about something.

And I tell him that he's right.

But that I really do want to go to sleep as well.

Two really badly-written reviews of sorts

I have no idea why the movie is called The Science of Sleep because I couldn’t spot any ‘science’ in it. But I think it would make a perfect date movie, except I wasn’t on a date, which is a shame I guess. But I still really loved the movie.

My friend wasn’t as enthused as I was about it. She said it was nice but there weren’t any memorable scenes in it. I must respectfully disagree. I can still picture lots of memorable scenes.

I think I have this soft spot for movies (or books or whatever) with weird, awkward (but well-intentioned) guys making a mess of their lives. I also really liked Punch Drunk Love and Benny and Joon, to name a couple. Characters like that make great feelgood stories to me.

Gael Garcia Bernal was brilliant in the role. I haven’t seen him in anything else, but I might check out his other movies now because it looks like he might be someone with a Johnny Depp-like scope for acting. He was entirely captivating.

The film’s story is almost completely improbable, chaotic and awkward. In real life, such a man would probably be institutionalised. But it works because it is about sleep and dreams and stuff. Think of it like the good dream to David Lynch’s nightmares. A lot of the humour (and actually, the insights as well) is very Vonnegutian.

AND

It even has a White Stripes song in it.

I’m definitely buying the DVD at some point. You should see it too. It’s good.

__________

Today I met Natalie, the Youtube vlogger star. She said she’s in the top 30 most viewed and has over 19,000 subscibers. To me, that makes her a star.

So I had a look at her vlog (communitychannel) tonight.

Well, I really can’t see the appeal with video blogging. I saw that lonelygirl one after I read about it in the papers (yeah, I know it turned out to be fake) and this one is pretty much the same format as that. Besides the fact that she’s pretty (so many comments like ‘communitychannel, your so HOT! – why do so many people get your and you’re mixed up?! It’s really not that hard, people!), I’m not sure why people would get all that interested in a stranger’s everyday life (OK, so she also dresses up, like as a school girl or an evil teacher, but that only explains her male stalker subscribers) or maybe I’ve just never really given it a chance. I guess people say the same thing about blogging. And I watch Home and Away and this is pretty much like a soapie. And her production quality is really good. And now that I’ve met her in person, I guess the whole thing becomes a little more interesting (even though I’ll probably never see her again) and I'll probably watch more. And a part of me is already thinking of ideas to make my own video blog (if I had a camera and more time and some video editing software). So it's probably all a really good thing. And I think I’m contradicting myself too much for one paragraph. So I’ll shut up and watch Heroes now.

Christian, David and Paul

[Spoiler warning to anyone that might be watching the play]

The reason why I generally hate watching or reading true stories and biographies is that I end up spending a lot of time wondering how much of it was truly true.

To me, fiction is king. I say never let truth get in the way of a good story. And anyone who thinks that truth is stranger than fiction probably just doesn’t have a very good imagination.

Tonight I was at the newly renovated Belvoir Street Theatre with my friend David to watch Paul.

Paul, being the name of the play.

David and I are high school buddies and we are both Catholics.

David is an openly gay Catholic.

I am an openly absurdist Catholic.

Neither of us are meant to exist.

But whatever.

To those unfamiliar with the Biblical story, Saul was on a mission to Damascus to weed out (and kill) Christians when he got blinded by God and was converted to the Christian cause, and even changed his name to Paul.

From there, he teamed up with Peter (Jesus’ original disciple) to spread the good word around the area to any non-believers they could find.

It’s kinda like he was a religious super hero and that was his origin story.

He is most famous for this quote (and what a beautiful quote it is):

If I have all the eloquence of men or of angels, but speak without love, I am simply a gong booming or a cymbal clashing. If I have the gift of prophecy, understanding all the mysteries there are, and knowing everything, and if I have faith in all its fulness, to move mountains, but without love, then I am nothing at all. If I give away all that I possess, piece by piece, and if I even let them take my body to burn it, but am without love, it will do me no good whatever.

Love is always patient and kind; it is never jealous; love is never boastful or conceited; it is never rude or selfish; it does not take offence, and is not resentful. Love takes no pleasure in other people's sins but delights in the truth; it is always ready to excuse, to trust, to hope, and to endure whatever comes.

Paul and Peter are widely regarded as the ones responsible for the birth of Christianity.

This play is the conspiracy theorist’s account of that birth, and watching it was interesting in that it was an uncomfortable, yet enjoyable, experience. The set was modernised to reflect today’s middle east (about the only humdrum part of the play. I mean, come on… the whole ‘middle east hasn’t changed in 2000 years’ thing is so overdone). The cast was brilliant, with Peter being the standout in my opinion. Paul is portrayed as a religious nut who shows enough flashes of wisdom of presence to make you sit up and listen.

The story plays out cleverly. It starts out conventionally and slowly starts revealing ‘what actually happened’ and ends with a kind of ‘so what if it’s all lies as long as they’re beautiful lies?’ Not until the very end do you really get to know how far the playwright is going to push it (and it's pretty far). But it's done with a kind of tenderness that I found admirable.

The reveal is wonderfully done because the start sucks you into the Christianity story before it systematically rips apart the stitchings. The first act ends with the now-popular (thaaaanks Dan Brown) revelation that Mary Magdalene was Jesus’ wife, to several gasps from the audience.

And that was another enjoyable part of the play – watching the audience. They were so animated. You can see the atheists scoffing a lot in the beginning and then having sighs of relief in the second half as the revelations come out.

Actually, pretty much the entire play’s success comes from the audience's constant struggle between what you already think to be true and what you’re afraid is coming next to ruin those beliefs. By the end, there’s little doubt that it’s an atheist’s point of view. But that’s OK by me. I enjoyed it. I was gripped the entire way.

If you’re an atheist and you enjoyed it, you’d probably sum up the play with ‘don’t let truth get in the way of a good story’. And if you’re a believer and you enjoyed it, you’d probably also sum it up with ‘don’t let truth get in the way of a good story’.

Except they would mean two very different things.

The highlight of my day

A: Have you guys seen that Wild Hogs movie?

D: What's that?

A: It's the one about the middle-aged guys who go out on Harleys. It's got John Travolta and that guy from Fargo.

D: Who?

A: And it's got that black guy. What's-his-name.

D: Danny Glover?

A: No. Um... Martin somebody.

D: Martin Glover?

A: No...

D: Martin Sheen?

A: No... black!

Memoirs of a hack writer (or... The love that dares to speak its name)

The very first story I can remember writing was about a ninja. He went into hiding as a child and then didn’t come out until he was thirty, by which time he had become an incredible skilled fighter. I don’t quite remember how the rest went, but I assume he killed a lot of people.

The second story I remember writing was pretty much a rip-off of ET but with elements of Flight of the navigator thrown in. I can’t remember much of this one either, but there was a joke about humans looking like alien hat stands that was particularly not funny in hindsight.

I think I was about six or seven.

What followed were years of painfully awkward and derivative science fiction and fantasy stories. They’re all a blur now. But they all modelled themselves pretty much after the books that I read at the time. I think I read a lot of crap at the time.

The first serious book I ever got into was a little novel called To kill a mockingbird. That one simply blew me away. So much so that it inspired me to write what would be my first serious piece of writing. That was a short and overly idealistic ode to racial equality that I called A case of black and white. I flogged that one around for years, getting it published in several student publications. Around the same time was my first attempt at humour writing. That was another poem, called Ode to liquid paper. I flogged that one around too. As far as poetry goes, those two were the best I’ve ever written.

I peaked in Year 10.

In Year 12, I was served with three masterpieces of writing that would change the way I look at the English language forever.

The first was Hamlet. This taught me about isolation, angst and the internal monologue.

The second was Great expectations. This taught me about love and obsession.

The third, and most influential of all, was Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead. This taught me about rhetoric, irony and the absurd.

What would spawn out of this period of my life was a romantic trilogy called Three ways to fall in love with Sally. In three unrelated stories, three tragically clueless boys fall for three girls, each of them called Sally. And each of them end up heartbroken due to their own stupidity.

I still remember this one. And remember it fondly. They were juvenile stories and I wouldn’t want to read them now because I suspect that they were actually really badly written. I know I would cringe. But I like the ideas and maybe one day I will update them. Or maybe not.

There would be four other significant pieces of writing that I’ve done that would bring us up-to-date to the present.

The first was the screenplay called The finer subtleties of role-play, which would be my most polished piece of writing to date. Anita ended up filming it. Not to my satisfaction, but to my satisfaction that it was even filmed at all.

The second was my epic Asian-Australian soap opera Everything you want, which is both my greatest writing achievement and my greatest failure. It’s an overlong behemoth of a script with an approximate running time of 4.5 hours. It still haunts me to this day. It just won’t die! I’ll revisit this sometime too. I’ve tried a few times already. I still believe there’s a lot of good stuff to be salvaged from it.

The third would be my long-suffering and painfully unfinished serial Magic for beginners. I know at least three people who want me to finish this. And I will. I promise.

But I think the best thing I have ever written was a blog entry from 19 July 2002 called S is for Sleepwalker (or Falling in love on trains). I invite you to look it up in my archives if you’ve never read it or you haven’t read it since 2002.

I’ve probably read it over 200 times.

It’s my favourite because it’s probably the only time that I have ever come close to achieving complete clarity in what I was trying to say. I love it because it is so short and succinct, compared to my usual verbosity. That one piece said everything that I have ever wanted to say in a piece of creative writing.

In hindsight, that’s how my writing life unfolded to this moment. And this moment is the moment of clarity where I realise that I read my own writing. All the time. Revisit them again and again. Like old friends or family. Someone pointed this out to me tonight.

And you know what?

I do. I probably read my own blog more than anyone else’s. I love my own blog more than anyone else’s.

Even more than Wil Wheaton’s.

And that’s why I write. For the love of it. If other people love it, then great! I want everyone to read everything I write. Even the crap stuff. But if I wrote simply to get self-reinforcement, then I would have given up long ago.

I use this blog to the most of my abilities. I’ve done so much with it. I’ve experimented. I’ve written fake blogs. I’ve copied the styles of other bloggers to see what kinds of writing attract what kinds of comments or numbers of comments. And I do it all because I get a real kick out of it and I want to learn more and more.

Some people don’t understand. For example, when I wrote that Salem entry that spawned 22 comments, you should have seen me at the computer that night. My body had had so little sleep and was about to conk out. But I was on fire on the keyboard. There was so much I needed to get down before they’d dissipate into writers’ ether. I was like a man possessed. And not because the subject matter particularly mattered to me. It was because I had words formed into sentences and they danced around in my head when I was reading the other blogs. Just begging to be blogged. I got so carried away. Put everything down, then re-read it. Trimmed it. Or expanded, depending on what’s what. Sure it was cheap that I did at other people’s expense. But I was having fun. I was loving it. The adrenaline was pumping. Some people need to bungee. I just need a keyboard, some blog fodder and minimal sleep.

The Midnight disease. Like August Van Zorn. Like Kilgore Trout.

People can read what I write and question my talent or my commitment. I do that myself all the time. But I do know that the love is real. It’s the same as when I pick up the basketball or thrash six strings of steel. There are moments when I realise that I’m doing something purely for the love of it. Good or bad. And in these moments (not all the time), when I lose myself in these moments, that’s when I know I’m alive. And if you read this and you can’t understand what I’m saying or you think I’m being over the top, then I feel sincerely sorry for you. Because I think everyone should (and deserves to) feel like this about something in their lives.

And thus ends my most self-absorbed entry to date.

There’s probably only me and Sleepwalker here now. But if you’re still reading with us to this point (without skimming the rest, mind you), then you must really like my writing. Or you really like me. Or, hopefully, both.

But for now, to everyone and anyone who has ever visited this page since its conception...

Whether you’ve been here once or a hundred times...

Whether you’ve enjoyed, hated or been devoid of any opinion of what I write here...

I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Thank you for sharing the love.

Word of the day

Irony is like the Where's Wally? (or Where's Waldo? for all you North American readers... I'm sure there are lots of you... ahem) of the English language. People love spotting it and then telling everyone else that they've spotted it.

It makes them feel smart. S-m-r-t. Smart.

Unfortunately, spotting Irony is often more difficult that one suspects and when you think you have found one but are actually mistaken, it is safe to say that you will come out looking like something that rhymes with Boron.

If you are unlucky, you may even get beaten up.

On the other hand, you may correctly spot Irony but incorrectly assume that the person you're telling this to has not spotted it (often the author of wherever you found the Irony). While you would still be technically correct, this is the equivalent of spotting Wally on the cover of the book.

So, again, you will probably come out looking like a Boron.

At this point I would also recommend against trying to explain that you are still technically correct.

It will not save you.

In fact, if you are unlucky, you may even get beaten up.

Word.

The best Anzac day ever

I gotta be honest with you, I don't feel Anzac day. It's just a day off for me. I have no real emotional link with the Anzacs and won't pretend to.

But I do enjoy the day off. And I enjoy clocking off early and having a beer or a few on Anzac day eve.

So that's what I did yesterday. Went to the RSL, had a few drinks. And I won a meat tray.

Yes, a MEAT TRAY!

Do you realise how great that is?!

5 beef steaks
5 pork chops
a whole leg of lamb
5 pieces of unidentified meat (I think it's lamb. My mum thinks it's beef.)

Then I went home and watched Pan's Labyrinth with my mum. Fan-bloody-tastic movie. Depressing though. But really poetic, which appeals to me.

Then today, we went to Habibs to farewell James and hung out the rest of the day with good friends, junk food, Frozen Coke and whatever else.

After that I watched TMNT at the cinema and got to use my new 3 phone to check the movie times. That turned out to be a lot more fun than I expected. I would almost say that it was good. But it's probably just because it's TMNT. Because TMNT will always be special.

Anyway, a few years ago I went wil Lil to Centennial park and we brought two sausages and a couple of bread rolls to eat. Then we went bike riding and Lil showed me in disgust that her shorts were wet with sweat. That was a pretty funny Anzac day (anytime you're with a girl with a wet crotch, you know you're having a good day!).

But this was the best Anzac day ever!

Did I mention I won a meat tray?

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From Becky

Stuff about books and stuff

I have a problem.

I love reading books and I love buying books.

But I am such a slow reader that it takes me weeks (and sometimes months) just to finish one book.

So I have this huge backlog of books that I've bought and haven't read.

Actually, I have another problem.

When I read a good book, I find myself wanting to read other books of that ilk, so those outside that genre get neglected.

For example, after reading Jonathan Strange and Mr Norell, I started wanting to read other fantasy/sci-fi books before I realised that I don't really like books of that genre.

Generally, I like quirky books. At least I have for a long time. So if someone recommends to me, say, a book about the courage of two orphans as they escape from a war torn Middle-Eastern country to make a new home in America, I'm sure it's a very good book but it's not going to be high on my list.

BUT

If it's about the courage of two midget orphans as they escape from a war-torn Middle-Eastern country to make a new home in Las Vegas, it might pique my interest.

Anyway, here are the books that I already own that I haven't read yet and are top of the list:

Lunar Park (Bret Easton Ellis)
American Gods (Neil Gaiman)
Morphing the Blues: The White Stripes and the strange relevance of Detroit (Martin Roach)
The Final Solution (Michael Chabon)
The man who mistook his wife for a hat (Oliver Sacks)

Currently, I'm reading Chronicles Volume 1 by Bob Dylan.