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, August 26, 2000

Mallory's reading it! Woohoo! You won't regret it. (And maybe then she'll even help me with the new project I'm cooking up...)

5:49 PM - link to this - (0) comments

Hooray! All done! Welcome to version 3 of The world according to carp - "That was now, this is then." If anything looks odd, please let me know.

Illuminati, a forum for intelligent interaction, is now open. Please go, register, say hello, start a discussion, go off like a frog in a sock.

Unfortunately I have another one of those pesky college functions tonight, so I can't fill this page with my usual non-essential bumph. See you all tomorrow morning. Not too early, though.

4:31 PM - link to this - (0) comments

As you may notice, I'm redesigning. Please keep your hands and arms inside the blog.

4:18 PM - link to this - (0) comments

Friday, August 25, 2000

Walking is just a steady process of controlled falling over. So is life.

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Every so often, there comes a webpage that just leaves me entirely speechless. This is one such.

6:30 PM - link to this - (0) comments

Regarding those permalinks, thank you to those who use them properly. And my apologies to those who still don't know what I'm talking about, because how is anyone supposed to get it right when one of the apparent icons can't even manage it. [/scathe]

PS: I retract the above (not the thanks, just the accusations). I could have sworn the permalinks weren't working last night, but this morning they appear to be fine.

6:15 PM - link to this - (0) comments

Reason #43 why communism will never work:
R: They're probably Italian.
Me: Because Italians are always Fascist.
R: They are.
Me: Except when they're being Communist.
R: Well naturally. Damn whores.
Me: I assume the whores are Fascist. Prostitution is far too capitalist for the commies.
R: How so? It would work perfectly well.
Me: Selling your body? How can you get more capitalist?
R: No, you're just sharing your commodity with the community. Shut up for a minute. Everyone in the community gets tokens.
Me: Every good comrade is entitled to three visits per month to a lady of negotiable affection?
R: Precisely. And then you collect the tokens and take them to the officials, who say, "Well done" and give you your monthly whatever.
Me: But you'd still have to sell yourself. Give your tokens to me, not to her, I'm better, I'll even do you twice for the price of one. Capitalism. Prostitution is inherently capitalist.
R: Unless you were the delegated prostitute for that region.
Me: Whore of the State? Now you're just getting silly.

5:14 PM - link to this - (0) comments

A special puppy-dog-pathetic-whine at people who don't close their tables. Even I have to surf in Netscape sometimes, you know.

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Thursday, August 24, 2000

Harry Potter casting! Coolness!

6:52 PM - link to this - (0) comments

That interaction I was talking about will be forthcoming, since I got a response that heartens me, and makes me think that maybe I'm not the only one 'gagging for it', as it were. Ahem.

There is a new design for "The world according to carp" in the pipeline, and it shouldn't be too long in appearing. The new message boards will arrive then as well. Enough business, on with the fish.

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Wednesday, August 23, 2000

It was just your typical evening out with A and a couple of his friends. We missed them, and got to the restaurant too early, so hung around outside talking about StarCraft. We had rambling conversations over dinner including email wars and pessimism/optimism. They went on to a play, I went off to catch a bus home because I have work to do.

That's when the fun began. (This could be long, go to the toilet now if you think you're going to need to.)

It rained today (hailed too, but I'll talk about that a little later) so sitting on the open seats was out of the question. The undercover seats are wooden benches (comfortable, though) divided into three sections by metal railings, each section large enough to fit two, allowing for personal space, or three disallowing. I sat in the middle section. As if awaiting my cue, two other people suddenly appeared, sitting in the sections to my right and left. To my right was a well-dressed young man, probably a high school student, since his well-dressed-ness had the appearance more of a uniform that corporate attire. To my left was a woman a bit older than me with two bags of shopping, and a paperback book.

We sat, each thinking our own thoughts. She rolled a cigarette and smoked it very considerately, blowing smoke away from us. We sat, and thought.

Then he showed up. He was wearing a double-breated but tatty overcoat. He shuffled his feet. I know, because I was looking at them, because you don't make eye-contact with strangers. He said, very quietly, "Hello."

I should have ignored him. I really should have. Not that I think it would have helped much. But I didn't. I looked up, and replied in kind. "Hello."
"I'm Michael. What's your name?"
"Diana."
"Do you know Jesus loves you?"
Shit. One of them. Heartfelt and mental sigh.
"Yes. Yes, I do." Well, I do. Everyone keeps telling me that. My mother most of all.
"Do you go to church?"
"No." Not if I can help it.
"Oh. Do you go to university."
"Yes."
"What do you study?"
"Politics."
"What do you learn in politics?"
"Lots of things."
"Are you going to be a politician?"
"Probably not."
"Then why do you learn it?"
"Because it's interesting."
"Do you pray and read the Bible?" Talk about a non sequitur.
"No, I don't."
"Do you read the Book of John?"
"I have read it." Consider and discard idea of telling him the theories about it being written about Mary Magdalene.
At this point he mumbled something about praying to God to forgive my sins. Time to come completely clean. Stuff not being confrontationist.
"Look, I'm afraid I'm not a Christian."
"That's why I'm telling you this, so you can become one."
"But I don't want to become one."
"That's like saying you don't want God to love you."
"I have my own relationship with God that is not like those that Christians have."
"But Jesus is the only path to God."
"That's what you believe, it's not what I believe."
"It's what God believes."
"How do you know that?" Honestly, the arrogance of those who assume to know the will of the Divine.
"Because he said so."
"Where?"
"In the Bible."
"Which he wrote himself."
"Yes, he did. The authors were inspired with the Holy Spirit."
At this point, thankfully, my neighbour to the right butted in. He tugged on Mr Jesus' arm and said: "Excuse me, have you read the book of Mormon?"
"The Book of Mormon is false."
"But have you ever read it."
"I don't want to talk about the Book of Mormon."
"Well, fine, I wouldn't want to push my beliefs on you, assuming they are my beliefs."
I'm stifling my laughter at this point, and thankfully the bus arrives. I stand up, and Mr Jesus makes his closing arguments: "Just remember that God loves you."
"I know God loves me, and I love God, but I don't believe in Jesus."
"But Jesus is God."
Conversation going nowhere. I board the bus. I settle myself in my seat and notice that Mr Jesus has returned to accost Mr Maybe-Mormon. At this point, however, Ms Cigarette butts in, with raised voice and many hand gestures. The argument is still raging fast and furious when the bus pulls away, and as it does, Mr Maybe-Mormon looks up and grins at me. I return his grin, and the bus moves on.

8:51 PM - link to this - (0) comments

Oh baby, I love this place. And this is my poem:
About 5:50 at the busstop
righteous concrete they feed
with infra garden sometime
resurrect ing within thy abundant nectar
psuedo ghost s of crystal despair .

AKA: what you get when you hit things semi-randomly.
Oh yeah, I swiped the link from Nicci. Shhh!

5:43 PM - link to this - (0) comments

You know you study too many languages when you go to look up a word and think: "It starts with A, so that means it'll be at about the midway point..."

5:21 PM - link to this - (0) comments

Amorphous Novel Entity Update: 1700 more words (aka another chapter) written. I'm on a roll, baby!

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Tuesday, August 22, 2000

Just one more note, post-StarCraft and pre-retiring: It must be my night for discovering interesting and potentially daily reads. This also makes me prick up my ears.

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PS: I joined the Greater British Empire. *points to pretty graphic linkie on left*

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I am absolutely tickled pink about the people who are moving in/have moved in to viscerate.com. Namely, two of my favourite webbers and writers in the whole wide world (yes, that is the www), She of the Lush and Rapturous Prose at an Extension of the Body, who will be founding one of her new projects here, and She of the Vision and Style of Glossolalia, who has unhappily had to flee her old residence. Links to the left. Film at 11.

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

All I can say is: "I am so unspeakably happy that I don't live in the US."

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Right, I'm throwing this open to the masses. I am going slightly (more) mad as I wander the internet, finding cliques and coteries of gibbering, giggling teenage germs. There's only so many times I can type IASBM before the keys start wearing out and even my regulars start abandoning me. I want to reassure myself that there are normal people out there. I want to build around myself a buffer zone of intelligent and occasionally silly interaction.

The obvious option? Give viscerate.com a message board system. Talk to my friends and regular readers. Meet interesting and intelligent people. Yay.

This, however, requires interest from aforementioned friends and regular readers. If you are one of the above (or just a random wandering through - Hello!) please let me know if you'd be interested in being a part of viscerate.com conversation boards.

6:44 PM - link to this - (0) comments

This is worthy. Meritorious, even. I didn't realise how much I wanted to find a light amid the morass until I found this site. It was like taking your first deep breath in years. A relaxation.

Yeah, right, move along...

5:47 PM - link to this - (0) comments

Small note and plea for assistance: Have I mentioned how eternally grateful I would be if people did their searching through my little Google box on the left there? Well I would be extremely eternally grateful. Especially since Google is cutting their affiliate payment from 3c to 1c come September. End snivelling plea.

5:35 PM - link to this - (0) comments

Netscape continues to be the straw in my enchilada (don't ask, please don't ask; the phrase just bubbled to the surface of the gumbo that is my mind, and hence had to be written down. I don't even know what an enchilada is, precisely, but I'm pretty sure I don't like them and hence wouldn't really care if there was straw in mine). This time it's a small matter of slashes or backslashes. I honestly don't know why on earth I put the slashes in the wrong way. It doesn't make any sense, especially since I usually code with my mind in neutral. But anyway.

5:24 PM - link to this - (0) comments

Out one side of the building the sky is the faintest Easter Egg shades of pink through to blue, so delicate it could be pierced with the nail of your little finger. On the other side, however, it is an ooze of gunmetal grey, heavy, ominous. It bodes. (1 point)

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There is that sort of stomach-based gasp when you see something similar, but then the split-second passes, and you realise that no one would copy, or even if they did, wouldn't it be flattering? And then you smile, and open up your blog, and make some waftingly pointless remark about it, and carry on with your life.

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Monday, August 21, 2000

So I finally did one of those name analysis things. It was actually quite interestingly accurate. Well, the first part anyway. And specifically: "However, procrastination is your worst enemy, and you find yourself lacking the ambition to make your dreams a reality." DOUG, yes!!

PS: My goodness, N's is exactly the same as mine! Now I knew we were similar people (everyone says so), but honestly...

8:30 PM - link to this - (0) comments

A: "well, in one way of describing it, i took an eggplant, stuck it up a capsicum's arse, then pulled the trigger until it went click."

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For me, college will always be defined by nights like this one. A bad dinner prompts a trip out. Not liking pizza, R and I get Maccas and frolic all the way there and back. Someone suggests going up Mount Ainslie to eat. We go thirty metres down the hill (being unable to see anything, including the steps going down in front of us) because apparently there's a much better view down there. We frighten away a couple who aren't there for the view. R and I talk about America Psycho and feminists. J2 almost goes headfirst down the hill. In the space of five minutes we script a fantastic opening for a slasher flick. We freak out GJ in the process, who insists on returning back up the hill with company. The return journey is occupied with serious consideration of whether the earth spins clockwise or anti.

7:58 PM - link to this - (0) comments

Scene: R enters room and sits on bed (as is his wont, and that of just about everyone else as well) and watches me playing Puzzle Bobble.

R: Damn you're fast.
Me: Yup.
R: Is that because women have reactions 10 times faster than men or is it just because you're cool shit?
Me: It's because I've had way too much practice at this.
R: Ah.
Me: Is that true, about the reactions?
R: Something like that. They're definitely faster.
Me: So why aren't women fighter pilots?
R: They don't have big enough dicks.

5:57 PM - link to this - (0) comments

One book finished, the next one started. I am now reading Medalon - a new Aussie fantasy by Jennifer Fallon with gloriously beautiful artwork by one of my favourite artists ever: Stephanie Pui-Mun Law. Thus far (chapter 4) it is proving your average fantasy fare - amusing, eminently readable, peopled by delightful characters and with a moderately standard (and hence slightly predictable) plot. Where it goes from here determines whether it gets rave reviews as a soon-to-be classic, or whether I am merely highly impressed by finding a new fantasy author who is actually good.

5:19 PM - link to this - (0) comments

HOORAY!! I finally got some writing done. Only 800 words or so, but at least that's something. How horribly awful it is to get writer's block on the first page of what will hopefully be a long trilogy. Honestly. What do I think I'm doing?

But I have started now. It was a thoroughly successful day, all in all. I went to classes and took notes, I did some essay research, I wrote, I read and I even played Puzzle Bobble. I'm so hideously proud of myself I'm worried I'll wake up soon.

5:05 PM - link to this - (0) comments

Hells, bells and buggy wheels! It's a CONSPIRACY! Gbook is ALWAYS down when I want to sign one. And since I want to sign one about once a muck-raking these days, it's obviously a plot by Them. Now all I have to do is work in the National Milk Corporation. (2 points for obscurity.)

11:24 AM - link to this - (0) comments

Sunday, August 20, 2000

I have finally finished Foucault's Pendulum. And what a live-changing, mind-blowing experience it has been. Here is what I wrote about it at Amazon:
"I won't pretend this book wasn't a hard slog. It was. It's long, dense and uses words I didn't know existed (and frequently, words that aren't English). But all this is necessary to create the thick, rich tapestry Eco weaves for us. With consummate style, we are taken on a journey of knowledge, culture, religion and philosophy that I, for one, experienced right alongside the book's characters. This book might not change your life, but it certainly changed the way I look at it. It's all what you make of it."

Go forth and read it. Soon.

10:16 PM - link to this - (0) comments

Oh, and a PS while I go and make myself dinner because the offerings downstairs are considerably below-par: teleute is back up and running. *heave sigh of relief* Now I can get my fix again.

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Just in on the "How Cool Is This?" newsdesk: We managed to get the video of the original Dead and Alive "You Spin Me Right Round" and the new Dope American Psycho CD version perfectly in sync. First time, too. For the first verse and chorus at least. It was perfect.

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I had fun here. You may or may not, but I did. Now I'm off to watch the 80s marathon Rage from last night. Bye bye.

1:57 PM - link to this - (0) comments

Another one just for Shauna. This one's an original!

One day while perusing the net
I searched for monks from Tibet
I said: "Lookie here!
"Don't you think this is queer?
"Look at these Tomb Raider links I get."

11:16 AM - link to this - (0) comments

My favourite thing to find upon waking up is love letters under the door. Well, let's not exaggerate. There's only ever been one at a time. I mean, I'm not being courted by fifteen of the college's most eloquent and legible bachelors. In fact, I'm not being courted by any bachelors, he's not in college anymore and he's certainly not legible. His writing is atrocious. But I can read it, and what I read having stumbled out of bed and noticed the piece of paper sitting on the floor just inside the door gives me a warm fuzzy. There is nothing better to start the day with than sweet words. Thank you A.

9:13 AM - link to this - (0) comments