November 25, 2008

Shitty update

Life is sweet. The new people I've met or gotten to know better in the past few weeks have all been amazing and I feel so lucky to have encountered them, they've restored my faith in (some) people quite a bit. I fucking hate Tuesdays though, I had to come home early and fall asleep for a couple of hours because I was so tired. My contempt for UCD and its fucking pathetic denizens grows and thrives every day. Halfway there.

Shows, hangouts, morning walks on my own, real people, real conversations, deciding not to care as much about school anymore, things working out for my friends and most importantly spending time with the girl that I love.

This is my last week of college this year. Some great shows and great times are ahead. 2008 ruled and 2009 will be better.

Somebody start a NYHC-flavoured band with me.


November 22, 2008


Our collective demise. Civilisations devoured, smothered in bilious volcanic nothingness and regurgitated once more into the void. All is cyclical. Four years of regression remain.


November 8, 2008


I guess I don't really talk about myself and what goes on in my life too much in this blog. There are several reasons for this, the main one being that my life is pretty boring overall and that tedious day-to-day stuff dosen't really interest me in any way. I spend a lot more of my time thinking about music and movies and weird bugged out shit than I do about my actual life, and I think the content of this blog so far reflects that. Life is mostly shit anyways. Escapism rules.

Last night I went out with the lads to have a few drinks; fun was definitely had. Most of the night's fun was had early on in the night however when Wicked Owl and I had ridiculously deep chats about all sorts of things for a few hours over a few pints and pieces of shortbread. I actually consider last night an education of sorts, because I gleaned all sorts of interesting things to think about over the next while from all the mad stuff we were talking about. Psycholophy is going to take over the world one day, believe.
As the night elapsed and
more people arrived I still had a good time. I'm pretty sure W.O. slipped in about seven Harry Potter references into various conversations over the duration of the night, at least five of which were definitely unintentional. Amazing. After a while I kind of found myself just standing around on my own for various reasons, and I felt pretty awkward so I left a bit early. I'm an extremely shy person so when I'm in any kind of social situation where I don't have a secure base of attachment present (i.e. a person I know well and am completely at ease around), I tend to freak out and try to escape. Ah well. I had to make sure I got home early anyway because I had a double Statistics lecture the following morning. Having a two-hour Statistics lecture every Friday morning is the fucking bane of my existence, let me tell you.

So I woke up today severely hungover but I can't really afford to miss this bastarding fucker of a lecture so I took some asprin, got dressed and started my walk to college. It was nice outside and I started listening to some Hammer Bros. on my iPod, and after about five minutes I was feeling refreshed as fuck. Hardness.
Now I'm going to move onto talking about stuff that I find a bit more interesting. I've been fascinated by insects for as long as I can remember. I remember that I used to collect these magazines about insects when I was literally four years old. They had little pieces of a skeletal, plastic, glow-in-the-dark model insect with every issue that you had to slowly gather week by week until you had all the pieces necessary to assemble the bug. I remember fully building my model of a tarantula and thinking it was the best thing that could ever possibly exist in the whole universe ever. I learned to read from those magazines: I remember reading them from cover to cover and memorizing everything I could about all the bugs that were featured. All the cool ones anyway. I think I even attempted to learn the Greek names of some of them. I remember my resolution to become an anthropologist when I grew up, because I thought that all anthropologists were just people who got to study bugs all day. My young developing mind even then was very capable of grasping the fucking gnarliness that is the insect world.

I can't even describe how cool bugs are, and even if I did have the requisite levels of articulacy it's a thing that you simply either get or you don't. I don't understand why people invented stuff like science fiction and the concept of killer aliens etc. when we have bugs everywhere; they're the same shit as that but better, because they've evolved to utter, terrifying efficiency and pe
rfection. No fictional creature devised by the human mind could ever rival the flawlessness of the insect world. They've been around for hundreds of millions of years before the dawn of mankind and they will certainly outlive us all. Their minds also operate in a manner which is completely incalculable to us: they are remorseless, emotionless and thoughtless. They live only to mate, consume and destroy. There's just something about this which intrigues me more than it probably should, and I'm not sure why. Of course, there are obvious similarities between this paradigm of behaviour and the way most humans act too. Just watch The Fly and what I'm trying to say will be explained to you far better than I ever could.

My levels of bug knowledge are fairly poor nowadays, what with college and everything getting in the way of my own self-education, so I get by on watching this show called Built For The Kill on the National Geographic channel now and then. Fucking amazing show. Watching it earlier in the week is what inspired me to write this. I was especially impressed by the trapdoor spider this week, I was sitting in hushed awe for a good while and I think I may have even uttered a "fuck yeah!" whilst watching it ensnare some clueless prey. This is the motherfucker right here:
When I get a chance, I'm definitely going to track down some books about tarantulas or some shit and revisit my pre-school years. Can't wait.


November 5, 2008

The Evening Redness in the West

They followed the trampled ground left by the warparty and in the afternoon they came upon a mule that had failed and had been lanced and left dead and then they came upon another. The way narrowed through rocks and by and by they came to a bush that was hung with dead babies.
They stopped side by side, reeling in the heat. These small victims, seven, eight of them, had holes punched in their underjaws and were hung so by their throats from the broken stobs of a mesquite to stare eyeless at the naked sky. Bald and pale and bloated, larval to some unreckonable being. The castaways hobbled past, they looked back. Nothing moved. In the afternoon they came upon a village on the plain where smoke still rose from the ruins and all were gone to death. From a distance it looked like a decaying brick kiln. They stood without the walls a long time listening to the silence before they entered.

FUCK. Blood Meridian lads, get into it.