Hatred of Capitalism is a good book. Meros rides the whitening. Doxycycline and that backache from when I was twelve. The songs of AJ Sharma. Buy em.
I can't decide who I hate:
book title: The Impotence of Being and Somethingness
Said to a fake Indian bus conductor who wanted to rip off Me-ros by 300 rupes: "you fucking piece of shit" Yessuhdid.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Monday, April 13, 2009
I guess I am in Thailand. I was in Krabi and last night has a pretty odd/terrifying experience. i will relay it. At about midnight I heard some intense rattling on the locked gate at the front of the hostel and some weird accent started yelling: "you let me in you fucker! I pay 200 baht to stay here tonight! you fucking let me in. I fuck you in the ass! Fucker!" and this went on for ten minutes, with the sound of smashing glass and door rattling and then stopped. Five minutes later two girls came back to the hostel and unlocked the door and this guy pushed past them and got inside the hostel. There were only ten rooms and we knew the owner wasn't there and this guy sounded hopped up on P or something. he started screaming "I'm going to find you, you fucks and fuck you in the ass. I am Peter Pan, come out of your fucking room. i fuck you all in the ass" at the top of his voice in a kind of scary ladyboyish accent.
So he comes up to the second floor where I am staying and starts smashing on everyone's door screaming that we have to come out. A few girls start screaming and adrenalin is coursing through me. I hear my neighbor, Andrew, a pretty cool Californian who lost his job and headed overseas six weeks ago, come out and ask him what the fuck he wants, so I, who am now fully dressed, go to the door and open it to see what this psycho wants. And here's the kicker: he's about a foot taller than me, dressed like some sort of raver with tattoos all over him, a pair of those elton john style sun-glasses with stars the size of the lenses attached to the frame, and, oh and and and, a big fucking bird the size of a normal sized chicken, but more like an eagle, perched on his right shoulder.
I go back in my room to wait it out, but there's a bunch more shouting form this psycho and so when I hear him go upstairs I go across to Andrews room and we lock ourselves in there. My door now has a big hole in it from where he has smashed his fists into it. We decide if he smashes on our door again we are going to mess this guy up, but the police show up and things seem under control. The cops don't give a shit though, and send him away with a friend of his to go to sleep.
So it all calms down and we all try and work out who the guy was, and finally go back to bed, when at about 2.30am the door begins to shake again and he starts screaming at us with the same message. All the guys get together on the second floor, though most don't want to fight him. Andrew, BTW is the same height as the guy but with an extra 20kgs on him, so he's one of those guys you want on your side. Anyhow, the guy finally takes off and we head back to bed. I'd met the girls next door (from Auckland, but kind of odd in a Hamilton/Auckland cross-over way). The next morning we all go out and get croissants and when we get back to the hostel we find out that the guy had stayed at the hotel a lot and had wanted to rent a room, but hadn't signed in for a key early enough. Apparently he's some rich guy, though we don't know from what nation, who owns a bar on a commercial island nearby. But that bird, wo there! - that bird. And he called himself Peter Pan, and really looked a bit like him.
Anyhow, there goes my 1/2 hour of internet time. Some more news some other time. I'm off to India on Thursday. I hope the job comes through and the dreams are sweet as some sort of syrup.
So he comes up to the second floor where I am staying and starts smashing on everyone's door screaming that we have to come out. A few girls start screaming and adrenalin is coursing through me. I hear my neighbor, Andrew, a pretty cool Californian who lost his job and headed overseas six weeks ago, come out and ask him what the fuck he wants, so I, who am now fully dressed, go to the door and open it to see what this psycho wants. And here's the kicker: he's about a foot taller than me, dressed like some sort of raver with tattoos all over him, a pair of those elton john style sun-glasses with stars the size of the lenses attached to the frame, and, oh and and and, a big fucking bird the size of a normal sized chicken, but more like an eagle, perched on his right shoulder.
I go back in my room to wait it out, but there's a bunch more shouting form this psycho and so when I hear him go upstairs I go across to Andrews room and we lock ourselves in there. My door now has a big hole in it from where he has smashed his fists into it. We decide if he smashes on our door again we are going to mess this guy up, but the police show up and things seem under control. The cops don't give a shit though, and send him away with a friend of his to go to sleep.
So it all calms down and we all try and work out who the guy was, and finally go back to bed, when at about 2.30am the door begins to shake again and he starts screaming at us with the same message. All the guys get together on the second floor, though most don't want to fight him. Andrew, BTW is the same height as the guy but with an extra 20kgs on him, so he's one of those guys you want on your side. Anyhow, the guy finally takes off and we head back to bed. I'd met the girls next door (from Auckland, but kind of odd in a Hamilton/Auckland cross-over way). The next morning we all go out and get croissants and when we get back to the hostel we find out that the guy had stayed at the hotel a lot and had wanted to rent a room, but hadn't signed in for a key early enough. Apparently he's some rich guy, though we don't know from what nation, who owns a bar on a commercial island nearby. But that bird, wo there! - that bird. And he called himself Peter Pan, and really looked a bit like him.
Anyhow, there goes my 1/2 hour of internet time. Some more news some other time. I'm off to India on Thursday. I hope the job comes through and the dreams are sweet as some sort of syrup.
Monday, February 23, 2009
I just want to be where ever you are
Soon everything that has happened will have happened in the last decade, or further back. Soon everything will be in the distant past. We will have to stretch before we reach for a memory. We will have to pause before we think. We will have nostalgia held over our heads, as blue sky holds eternity over our heads on days without clouds. The word nostalgia refers to an intense and actually physical pain at the loss of the past. The word has been corrupted and softened, but maintains the possibility within it, within the vocalisation and emphasis of that word, all that it once heralded.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Visas
Lawrence and Gibson shan't be very active over the next few months, I am afraid. With Meros abroad there will only be a few tidbits. In other news, maybe W Dewey will be on his way to them United States in the winter.
In other News I read, Hubert L Dreyfus' On the internet and was pretty disappointed on the whole. Then I saw it was published in 2001 and I thought, "oh well..." (the temporal limits of teh book were also noted by Dreyfus).Still, his use of Soren Keirkegaard was great, though he did not link Soren's admonishing of the press with the timing of the Corsair Affair. I'm sure he did, but he read too much into the injured Keirkegaard, and it makes me wonder if he was similarly besmeeched by some internet chatroom troll. It was a good final chapter though, and the introduction was good.
In other News I read, Hubert L Dreyfus' On the internet and was pretty disappointed on the whole. Then I saw it was published in 2001 and I thought, "oh well..." (the temporal limits of teh book were also noted by Dreyfus).Still, his use of Soren Keirkegaard was great, though he did not link Soren's admonishing of the press with the timing of the Corsair Affair. I'm sure he did, but he read too much into the injured Keirkegaard, and it makes me wonder if he was similarly besmeeched by some internet chatroom troll. It was a good final chapter though, and the introduction was good.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Communique from Richard Meros:
All:
as James has written, I am heading overseas in a few weeks. Before then I am spending time with friends and family, as well as launching a seering jihad against tardy payments to the publishing collective. As I have often said and surely will say again, what are university bookstores for if not for buying books from publishing collectives which they then are unable to sell? Actually, those most disappointing and likely to feel the mujahadeen's brunt are the non-University, indepedent bookstores from Timaru through to Hamilton who have so diappointed our cooperative members.
In sad news I have not had the use of my arm for the last few days as I paid $270 to be jabbed and innoculated against typhoid and hepatitis A. I am also now the owner of two months maleria medication and some strong anti-biotics to cure the foreseen agony in my puku.
For Waitangi Day, the collective will be attending the Adelaide to watch performances including that of Mr Sterile Assembly, and Te Kupu (from Upper Hutt Posse). Perhaps it would be a good day to ask Dr. Michael Cullen if he'd like to have a cup of coffee and talk constitution. Ka whawhai tonu matou....
(though this one also has a sweet video, but no embed link)
as James has written, I am heading overseas in a few weeks. Before then I am spending time with friends and family, as well as launching a seering jihad against tardy payments to the publishing collective. As I have often said and surely will say again, what are university bookstores for if not for buying books from publishing collectives which they then are unable to sell? Actually, those most disappointing and likely to feel the mujahadeen's brunt are the non-University, indepedent bookstores from Timaru through to Hamilton who have so diappointed our cooperative members.
In sad news I have not had the use of my arm for the last few days as I paid $270 to be jabbed and innoculated against typhoid and hepatitis A. I am also now the owner of two months maleria medication and some strong anti-biotics to cure the foreseen agony in my puku.
For Waitangi Day, the collective will be attending the Adelaide to watch performances including that of Mr Sterile Assembly, and Te Kupu (from Upper Hutt Posse). Perhaps it would be a good day to ask Dr. Michael Cullen if he'd like to have a cup of coffee and talk constitution. Ka whawhai tonu matou....
(though this one also has a sweet video, but no embed link)
Monday, February 2, 2009
"the decay and disintegration of this culture... it doesn't include me and never has"
Meros, like an orphaned head of Hydra, has limped back to Wellington city to crash on my couch for a few days. He could have slept on the generally unused half of my bed, but he is looking a bit too similar to Debashish Bhattacharya (below, r) these days for that to be prudent for either of us.
He asked me to write a post explaining two new articles he is having published. I don't know why he doesn't write it here himself, as he has got the password. I asked him and he made some reference to the sanctity of his élan vital. But what is a publisher for if not to publish and so I will write up his little conquests, his garroted bambi.
(1) He is to publish in the forth-coming edition of White Fungus magazine a short piece detailing the life of Diogenes of Sinope and introducing readers of that arts magazine to the Ancient Greek Cynics, or as Peter Sloterdijk's translator Michael Eldred prefers 'Kynics'. The use of the 'K' instead of the 'C' follows the German usage and distinguishes the modern cynic from the Ancient Greek cynic. Of all the points Meros misses in his analysis, I feel this is the most important.
(2) Although still eons from publication, talks have been entered into with the Hue and Cry journal to publish a recollection Meros has of his London years in the earlier part of the century and his memory of an elegant young financier's political manifesto.
He asked me to write a post explaining two new articles he is having published. I don't know why he doesn't write it here himself, as he has got the password. I asked him and he made some reference to the sanctity of his élan vital. But what is a publisher for if not to publish and so I will write up his little conquests, his garroted bambi.
(1) He is to publish in the forth-coming edition of White Fungus magazine a short piece detailing the life of Diogenes of Sinope and introducing readers of that arts magazine to the Ancient Greek Cynics, or as Peter Sloterdijk's translator Michael Eldred prefers 'Kynics'. The use of the 'K' instead of the 'C' follows the German usage and distinguishes the modern cynic from the Ancient Greek cynic. Of all the points Meros misses in his analysis, I feel this is the most important.
(2) Although still eons from publication, talks have been entered into with the Hue and Cry journal to publish a recollection Meros has of his London years in the earlier part of the century and his memory of an elegant young financier's political manifesto.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Bachelor
Lawrence and Gibson are pooping along in the New Year, awaiting the eager rush of January readers. My pick for the year is an explosion in sales of RoyOrbinClingFilm, but who can say, who can say? An interview with the author can be had here. I am sure that this book will be one of those modern classics some day published in a retrophonic version by Penguin Classics.
In other news, Mr Meros has sent us a link. He has been closely following the spy vs spy debate that has been simmering over the Xmas and New Year period.
In other news, Mr Meros has sent us a link. He has been closely following the spy vs spy debate that has been simmering over the Xmas and New Year period.
Sunday, January 4, 2009
"this is your invitation to deeper consecration"
So Richard has said I can't post the email I mentioned in the last post. He even scoffed at the blog: "who writes for free? amateurs..." Anyhow he said that if I wanted to post on anything then it should be real life and real issues and offered the following image which has copyright protection elsewhere, on the internet.
Also, check out the mp3s at the top of the following LINK. I guess none of it makes sense unless you hear the clip of the songs from the album which you can hear here. Tracks one and three, in particular, make a difference to the world.
In other news, while the end of the year didn't bring laurels for Meros it has sexied up his pals Arthur and Sam, who have been called all numbers of different sexy names in the last month. Meros notes, "shoulda boned 'em while I could..."
Also, check out the mp3s at the top of the following LINK. I guess none of it makes sense unless you hear the clip of the songs from the album which you can hear here. Tracks one and three, in particular, make a difference to the world.
In other news, while the end of the year didn't bring laurels for Meros it has sexied up his pals Arthur and Sam, who have been called all numbers of different sexy names in the last month. Meros notes, "shoulda boned 'em while I could..."
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