dee - viscerate.com

GIRL
Diana Evans
called Dee
since May 25th, 1980
terrorising inner-city Melbourne
consuming flat whites
producing words, hers and other people's
contact dee [at] viscerate [dot] com

SITE
viscerate.com
consisting of personal reflections
photography by Amy Q
archives here

Saturday, July 15, 2000

WARNING: The following bloggie bit contains a spoiler for those who may not have seen the director's cut of Blade Runner and wish to do so with a pure, virgin and uncontaminated viewpoint. Since it's been out for almost ten years now, you're slack to the extreme.

Now that those unworthy have hidden, let's continue. I have only ever seen the director's cut of Blade Runner. I have seen it twice now. It was clear to me the first time I saw it that something was deeply uncertain here. The second time I saw it, it was so glaringly obvious that I nearly slapped myself. Deckard was a replicant. It adds that bit of poignancy to the storyline, and makes everything a lot more smugly screwed up. Hence my confusion when I came across an article declaiming: "Blade Runner riddle solved". Riddle? There was a riddle? Oops.

I didn't count the replicants, or anything like that. I didn't even register that there was one missing from the count, and I never thought Deckard had come with the other four (although that really adds that bit extra to it... have to see it again now). It was the unicorn that did it for me.

On a minorly related note, the other "movie mysteries" listed in the article amused me a lot. Especially the one from The Italian Job. Quirky movie. Odd ending. [Thanks to billyjoebob for pointing me in the way of this article.]

8:05 PM - link to this - (0) comments

State: Tired because I was woken up at one in the morning, barely an hour of beauty-sleep behind me, by A and drunken friends. Poor little me. In an effort to amuse a bored and sheepish J2 I let him choose the search for the day.
Search: cats and unusual places
Result: Would still stink like cat piss! I mean honestly, what are you supposed to do when confronted by a link entitled with that catchy phrase? You click, of course. And even though I suspect the person/s behind this site may actually be serious in their assertions, it is very difficult to take seriously a page that continually declares cats are "randomly viscous" and that dogs never or rarely lick their owners (buh?).

5:06 PM - link to this - (0) comments

Friday, July 14, 2000

All ready was I to settle down to a comfortable (if not particularly profitable) afternoon blogging. However, no sooner did I sit down at my trusty (rusty) computer, than the muse started beating me over the head with a lump of 4x2. So I am afraid I am writing, not for your edification and amusement, but so that I can get the damn thing to shut up and shove off. The piece in question will be submitted to Emily's Glimpses most likely. And here, just for you, dear reader, is the first paragraph:
Abandoned suitcases received less than a warm reception in Paris. The incident of terrorism being unacceptably high, the police response to unowned luggage was nothing short of panicked. It involved cordons, bomb squads, and the eventual execution by shooting of the offending suitcase.
Mwah! Ciao!

6:07 PM - link to this - (0) comments

Thursday, July 13, 2000

I've had three people today email me, expressing an urgent and earnest desire to assist me in earning lots and lots of money. Spam is really getting much more endearing. But it's still spam. I can't help wondering, as I hit the delete key with giggling glee, whether these people get a good result from their spamification techniques. Does anyone, out there in the cold hard world that is the internet, actually read these emails? Even if they contains sentences like: "Remember our conversation about how you could triple your earnings this year?" Even if they start with: "Hi there! How have you been?" How much extraneous gumph must be floating (zipping might be a better verb there) around in cyberspace? How can we move for the junk?

8:22 PM - link to this - (0) comments

I just spent twenty minutes cruising the internet looking for anime. I'm going to a night where the theme is "Legend of the Ubergoth" (bastardised from "Legend of the Uberfiend" of course). Now, I think this sounds like a lot of fun, but I find myself stumped on the concept of anime costumes. Thus far some sort of schoolgirl look is appearing the most likely. If anyone has any pictures/suggestions they think might be helpful, please don't hesitate to send them to me. I will be eternally grateful.

6:20 PM - link to this - (0) comments

Does anyone else find it amusingly ironic that the label on my glue bottle doesn't seem to be stuck on very well?

5:03 PM - link to this - (0) comments

Stereo wars: Lunachicks vs. aforementioned crap dance music. It's a close one, actually, because of the reverberating base involved in all techno-crap. So I think it's time to pull out the big guns - Kittie. And if that doesn't work, I'll Metallica him to death. And leave the room.

I didn't understand my neighbour's sudden inconsiderateness, since he's usually been so pleasant. Then I met him in the hall with someone else, who is obviously staying with him. This, I sense, is the perpetrator. Bastard.

2:19 PM - link to this - (0) comments

Wednesday, July 12, 2000

I give up. The porn sites I understand. The warez sites I understand. But what on earth is The Works of Men at Work doing in my referrer logs?

(exit stage left humming "Land Downunder")

9:34 PM - link to this - (0) comments

How to explain the magic I see in everyday occurences? I caught a bus ten minutes ago from the pub where I was having drinks with A and friends. I waited at the stop with A, speaking inconsequentially. I got on the bus and bought a ticket. I was on the bus for two minutes. There was one other passenger; a man with groceries who got off one stop before me. Then I was alone on the bus. I got off at my stop and thanked the driver. He told me to have a good night, then he drove off, closing the doors.

Mundane. Boring. Simple. But something about it was magical. Something about it fired me to come up here and blog it. And if I could put my finger on it, pin it down and describe it, I would be both more and less of a person for it.

9:20 PM - link to this - (0) comments

State: Relieved that the holiday and its associated work is behind me. Cheerful with the new semester. Cold because it's suddenly realised it's supposed to be winter. Odd because the phrase "I am not your nubile chicken" appears to be stuck in my head.
Search: nubile chicken
Result: I bet you've always wanted to know how to Increase system uptime with Satanic Rituals. I know I have.

This meshes surprisingly well with what a one-time acquaintance recommended for a persistently crashing computer - he declared that my computer was clearly suffering from demonic possession, although it was difficult to tell, what with Windows and all. However, the evil spirit would only be appeased by a virgin sacrifice. I suggested that perhaps the drying blood might cause more problems than it solved, but he dismissed this as a minor concern beyond the possession of my computer by evil forces. There was also the problem that, as I am in college, a virgin is a rare and prized commodity, and one would not be cheap to obtain. Faced with these obstacles (not to mention how cliche the whole thing would be - simply ruin my image), I decided instead to commune with the spirit and see if we couldn't come to some sort of mutually-beneficial agreement.

It turned out to be Abraham Lincoln in my computer. Naturally, Bill Gates was no match for our combined intellects, and the esteemed President and I have been happily co-existing ever since. I notice a certain possessive jealousy, but Abe has at least become accommodating towards A since then. Thank goodness.

6:53 PM - link to this - (0) comments

Tuesday, July 11, 2000

"Don't touch me; I'm super important." ~ Random NPC in Baldur's Gate.

7:15 PM - link to this - (0) comments

Ooooh, the new boyLOG/girLOG is finally formally up and running. I'm very curious to see what happens with this project.

In other webjunk, Mallory has redesigned (in some sort of contra-desire slip that was almost "resigned". Don't do that!). I like it a lot, making a small break, as it does, with the typical left-and-top type layout so commonly employed. As always, her words are finely textured. They smell nice too.

7:09 PM - link to this - (0) comments

Internet Conspiracy Theory #243: Drioux and Maura are involved in counter-espionage in the Congo. This can, of course, be reasoned from a two-paragraph article in the Sydney Morning Herald this morning about experimental monkeys in Sweden. (Come on, people, the connection is obvious! Use your brains!) It would also explain why neither of them has produced works for public consumption in the last five days or so.

But seriously, I'm not trying to exert peer publishing pressure or anything. I fully respect their right to work for the government if they so choose. I'm just registering that I miss their words.

5:08 PM - link to this - (0) comments

My room is practically vibrating because someone on the floor below me is listening to crap dance music at full volume. I don't have to put up with this. I'm going to have a shower. And if he's still going when I come back, it's going to be Rammstein at full blast for him. (Oh yeah.)

11:49 AM - link to this - (0) comments

I went out to my first lecture at eight this morning. I paused before opening the door to put on my gloves, and I looked at the glass. There was a bit of grass stuck to it, looking maybe like a small figure, limbs splayed. Surrounded by crystalline frost, it looked like a Brian Froud creation. When I returned at eleven, the frost, the grass and the magic was gone.

11:31 AM - link to this - (0) comments

Monday, July 10, 2000

Something Drew said in a conversation is curdling in my brain with the movie I just watched - The End of the Affair (review coming soon, I'm sure) - to create a melange of thoughts that I suspect will morph into a long-awaited exx page some time in the next week. However, there is an immediate point I would like to mention here:

Whenever you see the letter A representing a person in this blog, that stands for Anthony. Anthony is the man I have angsted over for the entire two years my personal website has been in existence. He is a fixed point in my life. I keep secrets from him, I flaunt myself for him, I cry tears over him and I revel in his warmth. He is my boyfriend, my best friend, and sometimes I suspect my soulmate.

That's all I really wanted to say. World, meet Anthony.

10:11 PM - link to this - (0) comments

"Damn broccoli," he muttered, biting the stem off viciously.

6:24 PM - link to this - (0) comments

Back to the mediocrity I enjoy so much. Tripped gaily into town today with Kr and J2. Purchased new music to satisfy the craving I have to listen to something new I can obsess about. New (old) Rammstein CD and something from a group called "Lunachicks". Looks like fun and sounds alright too.

I was walking along against the tide of traffic and, as sometimes happened, I suddenly realised that all these people were that: people. I realised that I was looking out of my head, existing in my universe, and they were all doing the same thing. We were all isolated incidents, brushing past each other. I wondered how I looked through their eyes. I wondered if they wondered about me.

Window shopping, we passed a window display of torsos displaying their backs. Their wrists were brought together behind their backs. I thought they looked like they'd been tied up, although there were no restraints on those plastic wrists. I wondered if this was some sort of fetishist subliminal advertising, or if I was just strange.

All things considered, probably the latter.

4:59 PM - link to this - (0) comments

Sunday, July 09, 2000

For anyone expecting what I promised this morning (ie: gems of wit and wisdom), I extend my most heartfelt apologies. I am, however, off to have a life. Yes, one of those things I've almost forgotten exist in the past week and a half. I'm off to have a drink with A and his mate. Don't trash the place while I'm gone.

5:27 PM - link to this - (0) comments

Free at last, free at last, thank God almighty, I'm free at last!

The ordeal is over. The paychecks will be arriving soon. (And I have to do my tax return soon. Damn.)

5:09 PM - link to this - (0) comments

Americans amuse me (stay thy wrath for two minutes, will you?). Some came into the bar last night, had a whinge about the price of beer ($2.50, which is, I imagine, considerably cheaper than you will find it just about anywhere in Australia and incidentally exchanges to about $1.50 US) and then made comments about the money. Australian currency, for the uninitiated, is all the colours of the rainbow, and various different sizes. The $5 is pink/purple with the Queen on one side and someone on the other side (there's a lot of "someone"s on our money. All notable and noble people, I'm sure, but no one know who they are or what they did, really). The $10 is blue/green. The $20 is orange. And so on. It's also made of plastic-type stuff (which means it goes through the wash without any hassles). A friend who recently returned to the States from his exchange over here IMed me and said: "I went to an ATM and went, 'What's this green crap?'"

So I suppose it's not Americans who amuse me, so much as the culture tremor (it doesn't really deserve to be called a shock).

That is my profound thought for this morning. I will return this afternoon and attempt to bestow some more gems. For now, though, wish me luck on this last day of hell work.

7:32 AM - link to this - (0) comments

The very reason I only buy white socks is demonstrated by the way I stumble out of bed, bleary-eyed, and grab whatever footwear and accoutrements are closest to hand. At least this way, I'm never odd-socked.

One more day of this horrible, horrible employment to go, and then I can go back to university and get some rest. Yes, that was tried and tested irony.

7:18 AM - link to this - (0) comments