mild panic

I wondered how I'd describe my life using the new film classification which seems to accompany adverts for new releases. You know the sort of stuff, 'mild violence, frequent sexual references, two kangaroo fetish jokes'.
'Mild panic, (very) infrequent sexual scenes, gratuitous boredom complex' is my first hollow stab at mediocrity.

dead santas

I spotted two dead santas on the school run this morning. There seems to be some sort of defect in these 12-foot inflatable horrors which are dominating the skyline in Cwm Llynfi. Either that or a phantom santa-puncturer is stalking the valley.
It's all too horrible to contemplate.

Rydhsys rag Kernow lemmyn!

Me and Lisa Simpson.
I am not, strictly speaking a religious man. Nevertheless the publication of the New Testament in the Celtic language of Cornish must be seen as some kind of miracle. There is no doubt that Christianity helped the Welsh language to survive and flourish during darker days (and that Welsh helped Christianity flourish too). That my children's first language is Welsh is a testament to the combined forces of Celtic Christianity and language. We had no Dark Ages here you know, merely an Age of Saints.
The website Warlinenn will tell you more of the Cornish story, but one significant event is that Rowan Williams, the Archbishop of Canterbury is to hold a bilingual service on Sunday at Truro Cathedral to commemorate the translation from Greek into Cornish.
A second significant event is to occur on Christmas Day, when Channel 4 will screen a 4-minute Simpsons special where Lisa fights for the cause of Cornish independence. This will be broadcast at exactly the same time as the Queen's speech on BBC and ITV.
Some days my heart feels stronger.

inner space

The Dalai Lama's website is still under construction, so I guess I'll have to look elsewhere for inner peace today. Possibly not Uri-Geller.com, although a story does come to mind.
A troubleshooter from Dwr Cymru (Welsh Water) had come to check on my water supply. He needed to check where the pipe ran underground but hadn't brought his expensive exploration equipment (whatever that was). 'No problem.' he said, and picked up a nearby stick. He then started 'dowsing', and managed to follow the pipe from the road right through the garden into the house. Very impressive, I thought.

brewer's droop

'a gold-plastic bulbous barrel with a red and green top and a strangely limp phallic tap which hangs down in shame. Talk about brewers droop, this looks like a sad midget dalek after a heavy night on the tiles with a rabid alcoholic'
Can you tell what it is yet? Click here for more...

we are such stuff

I don't know why, but I'm reminded today of a timeslice I witnessed some months ago in Cwm Llynfi. I turned a corner while driving and spotted a one-legged youth taking a cross in a football game. Supporting himself with his crutches, his whole body rose up to kick the ball into the back of the net. It was both a surreal and beautiful sight, I thought, as I continued driving up river.

the winter of our discontent

I couldn't help but feel a little odd as I watched Geoff Hoon announce the deployment of Black Watch troops to central Iraq on TV last night. A very sad, strange feeling that this was the end for Tony Blair, and good god what or who was going to come next. I would guess the best we could hope for would be a coalition, but it's difficult to see the Libddems, Scottish Nationalists or Plaid Cymru weighing anchor with either ship of fools.
Meanwhile in America, votes are waiting to be cast. Can it be too cold for snow?
'Outside in the distance a wildcat did growl,
two riders were approaching, the wind began to howl'

all along the watchtower, Bob Dylan

click click plonk

I had no idea how big the UK online wine industry was becoming, but writing an article for my nano-magazine site thanthou.com soon put me right. I'm often found in supermarkets staring blankly at the rows of reds, wondering which label looks the most authentic. Now I can type in 'nose like a dingo's ampit' on a winesite search engine and come up with a crate of the good stuff.

why worry?

It's an insidious habit, don't you know. (domestic blog-day blues)
This morning I got worried about a wasp stuck somewhere in the lounge and the delivery of my mother's new washing machine. Lunchtime, and I realized that although the wasp was now flying free, and the washing machine delivered safely, I was still worrying about both. How many long-past events are still filling my subconscious mind with dread and worry, I asked to no-one in particular.

i still haven't found...

...what i'm looking for.
Where do search engines rank themselves? Typing 'search engine' into the following produced some interesting results...
Google - ranks itself 3rd
lycos - gives itself not a mention
altavista - seems not to self-rate, although google is ranked 9th
yahoo - ranks itself top, with google 2nd and altavista 3rd
excite - does not excite itself, although rates altavista 6th and google 7th
First page only, you understand. My god, it's full of stars.

when I was young (part 45)

When I was young a big mac used to be a large raincoat.
Now anyone who tries to live for a month solely on fast food deserves everything they get, so why is the Western World surprised at Super Size Me Up (or something)?
America is a big country, populated by big people eating big meals. 'The American Gene' is how Michael Nesmith describes it in his excellent 'The long sandy hair of Neftoon Zamora'. He always was one smart Monkee.
Unlike Elvis, the (burger) king.

keyboard fish

the number has just jumped on my blogger profile, so here are some of the changes i've seen in my lowly lifeslot;
microwave ovens/personal computers/mobile phones/color televisions/drive-by shootings/brainwave entrainment/digital entertainment format wars/infinite possibilities/reality tv/laminate flooring/blogs/the death of disco/satellite tv/.coms/mediocrity aspiration lifestyle management training coaches

Hey Kids! Turn water into beer!

Now it's not quite free beer, but the prospect of turning tapwater into beer certainly grabbed my attention this morning. Following on the bread-machine principle, The Brewzer promises to take home-brewing into the modern lifestyle accessory market. Er, possibly. No boiling, sterilizing, rinsing, measuring or hydrometer-ing; just add water to the container with the ingredients and wait. It's re-useable too. Lager or bitter.
Needless to say, my £16 or so has already gone to ""BoysStuff.co.uk"" and I wait with baited breath...

the meaning of life (part 24)

So the Dalai Lama has an official website! Alas, currently www.dalailama.com is under construction. Come back later for inner peace and wisdom.

what's the story?

The most important story of the week seems to have gone unnoticed by the world's media. Viewers of the previously fabulous BBC TV show Balamory were left shocked, stunned and open-jawed when the new series aired this week. For fitness goddess Josie Jump has been replaced by an imposter, a stranger; a new actress. Where is Buki Akib, the original actress who made the whole show worth watching? Why are the world's newspapers not emblazoned with the facts, lies and half-truths behind this very real outrage. Why does my heart feel so empty?
What's the story in Balamory, wouldn't you like to know?
Oh yes, and good luck to Kasia Haddad in the role, I'm sure she'll do a fine job. (sob)

Johnny Ramone is dead

Tinged with sadness today to hear the news that Johnny Ramone is dead, after a long battle with prostate cancer. The Ramones were one of the seminal American bands of the punk era.
Tommy Ramone now remains the only surviving member from the original band. Was is really that long ago I pogoed to their manic cartoon frenzy in downtown Cardiff?
I must be getting old.

'So shines a good deed in a weary world'

- Willy Wonka
'Dividing domains differently' is the slogan of Tokelau, a small island in the Pacific Ocean with some 1500 inhabitants. They have somehow managed to preserve their own culture over the centuries, and still divide all their goods amongst all their people, so that everyone remains equal.
On acquiring their own .tk domain extension they continued this philosophy, and are now giving away .tk domains to anyone who ever had a heart. Go to dot.tk on my links menu and give praise to the goddess of diversity. Faka Fetai.

second class citizens

So the Welsh labour party has decided once again that the people of 'Wales' are not fit to run their own affairs. We may soon be allowed to 'amend' laws past by Westminster, and if Labour wins the next election there will be 'consultation' on lawmaking powers. All of course, unlike Scotland, which has its own Parliament with lawmaking and tax-raising powers. And quite right too.
What possible explanation can there be? Are we somehow an inferior race, with consequently less rights? And have you ever heard of 'politicians' refusing more powers?
Could it be that Welsh New Labour careerists are extremely happy with their inflated wagepackets and don't really want to take on the extra work and responsibilities that real powers might bring?

lucky timeslots

New hobby time; logging into eBay and looking at the negative feedback received by sellers. Stories of plain misunderstandings, deceit and foolish evilness.
On second thoughts, time is spent more wisely viewing websites of creative geniuses who defy the reality syndrome. Take Michael Nesmith, for instance. Not only son of the inventor of liquid paper, Michael fell into the job of teenage heartthrob in sixties 'pre-fab four' the Monkees. That would be lucky right? But then to invent MTV, and write one of the finest novels of the 20th century, all without falling victim to the mediocre arrogance of fame abuse? Some beings, it must be admitted, have a talent for genius.

Christian bigots

There, I've said it. God help me.
Now, I've got nothing against Christians; in fact some of my best friends are Christians. I didn't object when my partner suggested she take the children to Sunday School. I believe that Jesus was an enlightened being who achieved Christ-consciousness in his lifetime, and that we should all strive to do the same. Gnostic Christianity, I think it's fair to say. Banned by the early church, you know.
But when a local Christian church posts a full-color leaflet through one's letterbox telling of a visit to a Buddhist temple, and of how these people were wasting their time, well you know how it is. There's only one true religion, apparently, all the others being a nonsense. A harmless delusion, you may think, until you start to count the bodies.
So I add the buddhanet link to this site (look right) in the spirit of freedom, giving and enlightenment. Also this link to Church Folks for a Better America, who can show the bigots in their country that religion need not be the cause of any wars. Amen.

all things are full of gods

So said Thales, one of the seven wise men of ancient Greece. Seven eh? Imagine that. Messrs Blair and Bush need not apply, I fear.
Lovely quote though.

cool blue droplets

Here's a cool blue droplets wallpaper downloaded from my favourite royalty-free stock photo site sxc.hu. Oh yes, and uploaded using the wonderful bloggerbot.

the shiny girl

Shiny Girl smiles, and the world turns. Shiny Girl laughs, and the stars explode. Shiny Girl walks into the ring, and a thousand hearts skip a beat.
The Shiny Girl shines tonight.
The Infester enters a stark spotlight, to begin the entertainment. He half-menaces a grimace, before the implication of approaching disaster; earthquake-style venom bites. He talks up a good fright, alright.
The Shiny Girl arches her back, and the Wheel turns a mean screw. One rool of an Indigo drum, and The Shiny Girl rides the Wheel of Hate, like a Chinese firework rides the night sky on Transformation Saturday. For The Shiny Girl shines tonight.
Fifteen minutes making love on the Wheel of Hate, and even these anthrax whispers of envy are silenced. Because everything is true.
She jumps, lands, her hair breathes, and the audience applaud, as a thousand guns are removed from their heads.
For the price of admission deserves at least one Wonder, my friend.
And yes, we love you still.

innocent internet

Part of the early promise of an innocent internet was the rash contact between unlike beings. While the vain musings of a celebrity blog may suggest otherwise, a certain teen spirit lives on in the seemingly self-maintained website of former Can soundscapist and genius Holger Czukay.
An original thought often has more nourishment.

impeach blair

Impeach Blair? Make him sweat, I say. Adam Price's bid to impeach the PM may have as much chance of success as an English tennis player at Wimbledon, but at least our plucky Welsh nationalist party are at last taking a stance for democracy. Joined by the noble Scots and various others, this futile stab has all the makings of an Ealing comedy, Westminster farce or Greek tragedy, depending on your viewpoint.

Scooby summer

Boomerang is helpfully staging a summer of wall-to-wall Scooby-Doo cartoons this summer, including the splendid 'What's New Scooby-Doo?' The gang no longer walk like fools, and Fred has ditched his cravat, although he and Daphne do seem to have swapped IQs.
Now Scooby has endured many highs (Sarah Michelle Gellar) and lows (Scrappy-doo) in his career, but you know it's time to put the kids to bed when the appalling 'Laff-A-Lympics' comes on the box. How on earth did Fred Flintstone manage to travel through time to take part in this compilation of mediocrity? What on earth was his agent thinking of?
Give me the Wacky Races any time.

a rock star ate my hamster

I have it on reliable authority from C64 retro expert Frank Gasking that my banned/unbanned video game 'Rock Star Ate My Hamster' has drawn some interest in this month's Games TM magazine (whatever that is). See colin-jones.com for further details.
This retro interest takes me back, you know. Codemasters did a good job on publicising rock star. They also trusted me enough to allow me free reign to just get on with the game. I guess that's quite rare today.

gently closing grip

I recently received a letter telling me that one of my domain names was about to expire together with a renewal form. Strange, since I always renew domains over the internet. It was, alas, another hopeless scam from a company hoping to lure me innocently away from my current webspace provider. I silently discarded the letter into an empty rotweiller, and tried to get on with my timeslot.
Alas, patterns are formed, and noting the hundreds of junk emails I receive every week I realize that the days of open communication over the internet are slowly coming to an end. The gently closing grip of tricksters, scumbags and fools means that soon no-one will post their email addresses on site and that we all slowly retreat into our caves of quiet seclusion.

but perfectly formed

Running a small publishing house calls for meticulous planning, something I sometimes forget.  Imagine my surprise last week to find that we only had 7 copies of the Cadw Swn coursebook left! Luckily our printer is a whizz, and less than one week later we have shiny new stock.  Just in time for some orders from America too.   They call it print-on-demand you know.  

timeslot abuse

When I was young and foolish I used to think that there was one common reality that we all inhabited; that we all experienced the same existence. I now realize of course, that we each inhabit separate timeslots, which often bear no relationship to each other. We all give meaning where there is none to events, objects and beings which in fact comes from within. We interpret the world, while merely watching a hollow reflection of it in our mind's eye, colored by the paint of meaning we insist on laying over everything.

is that me?

Fancy a shock? go to google's image search and type in your name to see if you exist, or if someone else has stolen your identity. I nearly didn't recognize myself. Then I found the handsome one. Ha.

Linguistic Fascism

It's something that French speakers and Welsh speakers have been concerned about for ages, now it's rearing its head in (UK, British if you must) English. Some might call it Linguistic Fascism. It happens when one language becomes stronger than another and starts eating into it. We're all familiar with 'le weekend' and the like in French. Similarly many people complain of the number of English words in Welsh, often mistakenly as some words (eg. car) taken to be English actually come from the Welsh, or Brythonic as it was once known. (I'm sure that you'll recognize the odd axe which needs grinding under even my lavender pillow. This is my Blog, buster.
The boot has been on the other foot for a number of years now, but little reaction has been noticed. I merely note that soon we'll all be speaking, and writing, American English. There is no alternative, as Microsoft's Windows Media Center, soon to appear in everyone's living room, so clearly illustrates.

cardboard box in the road

When I'm old and grey, sitting in my rocking chair surveying the delights of Cwm Llynfi someone is bound to mine the vast pit of knowledge I've acquired over the years.
'What changes have you seen, in your long and varied lifeslot, oh old one?' they'll ask. And two things spring to mind.
Kite technology and jellies.
When I was young flying a kite was a nightmare. Sure, you could get it up (oo err missus) in a strong wind, but keeping it there was nigh impossible. Today's lightweight kites however are a breeze (ow); as my Clifford the Big Red Dog kite proved last year in West Wales.
And also; have you made a jelly recently? Just put the pieces in a jug with a little water in the microwave for 20 seconds, then top up to a pint with cold tap water! Now when I was young, etc. etc.

war is over if you want it

Hurray! Mindless sgumbag leech spammers are finally beaten!!! I had a friend who was a copywriter once. He told me to always use an odd number of exclamation marks when getting exited. So...
Eat dirt mutant parasites!!!!!
I've been trying to get my spam under control for some time now. I found 143 spams in my inbox after a recent weekend away, and I know I'm only a long-forgotten cult with no friends. (Aww)
Mailblocks seem to have found the answer. Simply open an account with them (free if you want to be a sad cheapskate) and say goodby to Spam forever. (100% they claim) How does it work? Anyone who's not in your address book is sent a 'challenge' email the first time they send you an email. They simply have to type in some characters generated by mailblocks into a box, which confirms that they're not a machine. They then get placed in your address book, and their emails get through. Nice.

nothing to declare but

While searching for a free online IQ test I came across IQTest.com. Mr Ego figured he could safely ignore the results if they proved a little too embarrassing, so on with the test with we. Around ten minutes later I was puzzled to find that the site wanted my credit card details to pay for an in-depth IQ report. Another lonely scam, I thought, and browsed my pointer elsewhere, whingeing idly. But one should not always thrust daffodils up cows' noses, as the ancient Cornish proverb advises.
For there smiling fondly in my in-tray was an e-mail detailing my infallible score of 154. Not merely 'Gifted Borderline Genius', or even 'highly gifted and appearing to be a Genius to most others'. Oh no, true scientifically proven authentic 'genius'.
Now you may scoff, scratch and even ponder on how reliable a site which sells reports of a person's IQ test is. After all, they're not going to sell many lame duffers a report are they?
I merely encourage you to visit the site and to take their test; you must be the judge.
I meanwhile, am happy to repeat a single, magnificent, ego-massaging word;
genius.
Ahhh...

thru the looking glass

"And another thing;" the turtle sang, "never start a sentence with 'and'."
You will no doubt have noticed that, wherever possible, I follow the American rules for spelling, vocabulary and grammar in my hollow musings. 'Sidewalk' replaces 'pavement', 'thru' replaces 'through' and so on. My weblog spellchecker helpfully only works in American English, thus streamlining the process. UK English (or British English if you must) is of course a dying language, and the sooner we all fall-in with our American cousins the better. Pass the candy, darling.

m.o.u.s.e.

Things to do with £26,000 part 3.
Why not pop along to andipa modern for a signed Andy Warhol Mickey Mouse print complete with diamond dust. Framed too. It's got to be worth a look.
Popular culture is course primarily educational. No-one in the New Millennium can have any doubt as to the spelling of mouse, thanks to the world's favorite rodent.
I was also delighted to hear my daughter tell me that she learnt to write the letter 'm' from the McDonald's arches logo. That's one letter of the alphabet covered before school even starts, oh King of Burgers.

white punks on dope

Splendid as ever, this month's Trakmarx rotating dotcom thing has a none-too-glowing piece on Morrisey, some Slits stuff, and a profile of the Angular Recording Company. Something Blondie too, no doubt.
You'll want to view their interview with me here, obviously.

out of time

I have a past you know. Oh yes, a deep dark secret past. I used to write computer games for the ZX Spectrum, Commodore 64, Atari ST and Commodore Amiga. 'Rock Star Ate My Hamster' was one of my more successful, although I designed 'Grange Hill' for Argus Press Software, and worked with Mel Croucher on ID and Deus ex Machina. Deus ex Machina by the way (not the PC shoot-em-up of recent years) was a true interactive movie; with the voice talents of Ian Dury, Jon Pertwee, Frankie Howard and more. It was truly groundbreaking stuff, and won a number of awards. I programmed the C64 version.
Anyway, the thing about a secret past, as you all know, is that it comes back to haunt you at some point. So last week I received an e-mail from someone enquiring about my unpublished masterpiece 'Darkness at Dawn'. This was a corker of an idea; an adventure game based only on sound. Each location, object and character had a sound or piece of music associated with it. You could even turn the text off and have a blank screen. Mel even recorded a couple of audio tracks for me to go on the B-side (games came on audio cassettes in those days).
The trouble was, of course, that both Mel and myself were catering to a mature, experimental market which simply did not exist. Since I don't believe that such an audience exists today I can't even say that we were ahead of our time. Out of our time, more like.

the vain machine (part 2)

Imagine my surprise to find that the domain col.org.uk was available. Apparantly once owned by an organization called the Council of Learning, it was lying idly in the dustbin of cyberspace. Not any more; £1.99 is money well spent on my first 3-letter (sort of) domain name.
Makes you wonder though. I know that there's no meaning to anything, certainly not a combination of letters in the ether, but there doesn't seem to be any sort of history kept of domain names and their change of use. Only, as far as I can tell, who currently owns a name.

the vain machine

Received my Poptoon today from talented American artist Tori Seigel at twistedbunny.com. I must say that she has been very kind with my likeness, though she obviously had great material to work with. Ha ha.

lucky foodstuffs

'Lucky Foodstuffs' is the subject generated by my favorite random Blog subject generator at clickmebaby.co.uk
Garlic would be my hasty stumble in the dark, I fear.
Talking of which (eh?), I forgot to remember to mention the appearance of Keith Chegwin (Cheggers) at the ice-cream parlor in Dinbych y Pysgod.
I was indeed impressed by the ex-alcoholic and naked TV presenter's professionalism as he raced through his filming. No second-takes, fluffs or corpses there. (That's TV talk, luvvie). And courtious to all too; what a lovely man.
Now where's that nice Maggie Philben gone?