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[26 Feb 2009|07:17pm] |
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I swipe my card and the door to the hostel room buzzes open. Within, crumpled up on the bunk above mine: a new guy, already asleep at five in the afternoon. I kind of wanted to watch Wheel of Fortune, but whatever; I'll just make a snack of the last of the brioche and some Nutella, then gather my laundry and head back downstairs. I spread the slices thickly, and on finishing, stand for a moment in the darkness, contemplating the sleeping guy. He looks pretty placid. I've just started to lick the knife clean when his eyes open and he looks directly at me: me, standing in the dark, staring at him, licking a sharp knife covered in viscous goo. I start to say something to break the tension, but a sudden cough chokes me, and I just sort of croak and gasp at him. He squeezes his eyes tightly shut. I set the knife down and quickly, quietly leave.
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[26 Jan 2009|09:39pm] |
From "The Man Who Was Thursday":
"Listen to me," cried Syme with extraordinary emphasis. "Shall I tell you the secret of the whole world? It is that we have only known the back of the world. We see everything from behind and it looks brutal. That is not a tree, but the back of a tree. That is not a cloud, but the back of a cloud. Cannot you see that everything is stopping and hiding a face? If we could only get round in front--"
The weird hyaline Winter light, the overbearing architectural pomp, a man full of theories about the secret geometry of the city, and even the vivid orange cheese; it all suggested a world about to reveal itself. Yet even forewarned, I wasn't in the least ready when it actually happened.
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[16 Jan 2009|05:29pm] |
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-25 Celsius? Are you kidding, Chicago? I used to think it was pretty weird that Dante made the Ninth Circle an icy waste, but turns out he was totally on point.
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[15 Jan 2009|11:20am] |
Hollywood: The L Ron Hubbard Memorial Exhibition
It starts sedately enough, with a rather bombastic video exalting the adventures and triumphs of Young Ron Hubbard. Scattered around are some artifacts of his boyhood: a Scout sash, blazoned with merit badges ("...and at thirteen, he became the youngest ever Eagle Scout!"); a glider logbook; a Blackfoot Indian head-dress. The video dips briefly into weirdness ("...and in the Western Hills of China, Hubbard was a guest in lamaseries where he saw things that science was simply unable to explain!") but on the whole it's a pretty tame hagiography.
My tourguide, Inga, a pretty, fragile Swedish girl who seemed perpetually on the brink of tears, returns just as the video closes with a triumphant fanfare. She ushers me through an arch, and hurries me past several painfully dated wax depictions of scenes from Battlefield Earth. We come to a sort of processional gallery that's apparently the Scientological version of the Stations of the Cross. Here's L Ron frowning thoughtfully as a monk in a plutonium green robe and fu manchu mustachios telekinetically levitates a ball; here he is studying nuclear physics with a Einsteinesque professor; and here, with fists clenched and a snarl of effort, L Ron unifies science and spirituality into the glorious fusion that is Dianetics. I briefly consider what it would be like to sleep with Inga, but a dozen hawkish L Ron glares quickly put me off. His face is painted to appear almost phosphorescent, and in the darkened gallery the effect is profoundly creepy.
We adjourn to a sideroom decorated mostly with copies of Dianetics to watch a video on, yes, Dianetics. I ponder asking what's with the volcano motif on the book's cover, but I can't bear to be arch with Inga. "Very interesting", instead, is all I say as the video concludes and we're blarted from the room by yet another brassy swell of music. Inga skips up a flight of stairs, and my heart sinks as I see she's readying yet another video for me, this time about some impenetrable notion of the "emotional octave", except there's only four steps, with dozens of gradiations within each step, and some negative steps, and...my mind goes blank and, free from L Ron's disapproving gaze, drifts carnally. I'm snapped out of my reverie by a phrase I'd been hoping to hear since the tour began. "So, would you like to try the e-meter?"
For those who've not heard of it, the e-meter is basically the "science" part of Scientology. A glorified galvometer, it apparently measures energy fluctuations within the brain; I'm pretty sure it just measures the resistance of your skin, and applies some buffering and randomisation. The device's PCB had like, four microcontrollers. I grip the offered metal cylinders, feel a brief sting of electricity, and the needle steadies around the "sane" mark. "Think of a painful event in your past", Inga instructs. I think about her slowly unbuttoning my jeans. The needle dips to the right, indicating moderate psychic torment, which I suppose is actually about right.
We return downstairs, passing through a theatrette decorated to look like a magma cavern, and come to another corridor lined with eerie, vivid paintings. I'm startled when Inga performs some arcane gesture and they begin to light up, one by one, twenty-one in all. "This is a sort of moral code Ron developed, a secular moral code, you know, based on common sense." They're platitudinous enough, bland, even: "Do not murder", "Respect the beliefs of others". I was sort of hoping for something like I AM THE LORD THY GOD, but my disappointment was short-lived...
As we proceed along the Corridor of Morality, the floor lights up underfoot, like the piano Tom Hanks dances on in Big. Inga skitters over it, her footsteps a hasty staccato. I follow behind, a more lugubrious largo. We've almost come full circle, and Inga has saved the best for last. We stop before a wall decorated with plaques and scrolls. "Here is maybe five percent of the awards Ron was granted", Inga says, and then with a flourish, presses a button near the display. It splits apart, each half retracting into the wall like a double set of sliding doors, to reveal yet more diplomas and accolades. A cello begins to thrum, and is quickly joined by martial fifes. The wall splits again, and again, and again, something like seven times in all, the final split revealing a massive portrait of the man himself, Ron Hubbard, Saturnian and burning with ferocious wisdom. Over the music, a speech of his begins to play. It's impossible to follow - I counted, and he uses the word "energy" at least nineteen times in the two minute microsermon. The whole affair concludes with the most dramatic fanfare yet, almost Verdiesque.
I wander, reeling, into the concluding bookshop, where to my surprise Inga doesn't attempt a hard sell - just hands me a DVD and smiles nervously. "It was an amazing tour", I say, and I am completely sincere. I step out onto Hollywood Boulevard and immediately purchase a burrito with roughly the same dimensions as my thigh. This is a pretty awesome town.
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[01 Jan 2009|03:03pm] |
And there’s a hand, my trusty fiere!
And gie's a hand o’ thine!
And we’ll tak a right gude-willy waught,
For auld lang syne.
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[25 Aug 2008|11:09pm] |
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For everyone I endlessly talked at about my robotics project last semester, here's a clip one of the teams made of our final few days in the lab. It features lasers, greased metal, and mild homoeroticism.
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| Valhall Awaits Me |
[13 Jan 2008|11:37am] |
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Amon Amarth: the best time it's possible to have in a room full of longhairs who disdain conditioner. I stood next a big fat dude, and he acted like a pavise, shielding me from the roil of elbows and knees. Great show, regardless. Incredible setlist. Victorious March? Fuck yes I want to hear Victorious March! Also Tim, we need to get drinking horns. And remember to write down our script notes for Lammasu Junior High!
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[10 Dec 2007|04:54pm] |
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Today's so hot that I've been playing bass-heavy songs all day just to feel the breeze from my subwoofer.
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[29 Nov 2007|08:50pm] |
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Anyone want to go see Asimo at Southbank next weekend? Free, I'm pretty sure. We could have drinks before and heckle the smug little robo-prick.
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[07 Nov 2007|05:37am] |
So in lieu of maths study, I made a lolcats macro of history's dreamiest physicist:
Now to force myself to remember how to solve nonhomogenous second-order linear differential equations. HOORAY! Then, no exams until Monday. Such remarkable freedom! Oh, bliss.
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[22 Oct 2007|07:23am] |
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Story of my life: I had a maths assignment to finish for today, so I stayed up all night playing through Super Castlevania IV. If only I could solve differential equations as easily as I can slay Dracula's minions.
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[06 Oct 2007|07:09am] |
As a reward to myself for being so consistently wonderful, I've ordered Jay Bird's newest Shellac poster:
Isn't it just the ticket?
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[10 Sep 2007|12:06am] |
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This past weekend I saw so many naked women that I've become asexual. A woman without her clothes may as well be a skilfully crafted grandfather clock.
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[02 Sep 2007|08:07pm] |
So next week I will either die or transcend space and time completely:
Monday, multivariate calc assignment due;
Tuesday, applied mechanics exam;
Wednesday, linear algebra assignment due, Matlab assignment due, thermodynamics homework due;
Thursday, thermodynamics exam;
Friday, applied mechanics prac, MOTHERFUCKING MELBOURNE! Strippers, Sekt, and so much more. Sadly, I'll be taking along my maths text, for the Monday after brings yet another exam. If anyone has either a time machine or a cache of incredibly potent stimulants, do let me know!
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[14 Aug 2007|11:26pm] |
For Carol, some exercises from my thermodynamics textbook:
"If all the human beings on our planet (4.5 x 10^9) were gently compacted into a cube, how large on a side would this meaty lot be?"
"Squeezable but incompressible Bubbles La Rue is innocently floating around the swimming pool when Zoran the Mean, who is skulking by the side of the pool, reaches over, pushes, and holds her underwater. Naturally, our dear Bubbles is frozen with surprise. From a thermodynamic point of view, how has his dastardly act affected the energy of the water?"
"Science News reports that a newcomer in our solar system, the newly discovered comet Shoemaker-Levy, passed too close to Jupiter, was trapped by Jupiter's gravitational field, and now cannot escape the planet's tug. In fact, astronomers calculate that on about July 22 1994, it will return and crash into Jupiter in a spectacular and fiery death, which could release energy equivalent to the combustion of 1 billion megatons of TNT. It is estimated that the comet has a diameter of 10km, a density of 5400kg/m^3, and should crash into Jupiter at 60km/s. Is Science News a British or American magazine?"
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[07 Aug 2007|11:00pm] |
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From a thermodynamics lecture at eight in the morning until I cleared everyone out of the law library at ten, a fourteen hour day. I need to develop a benzedrine habit or something, this is ridiculous.
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[07 Aug 2007|02:02am] |
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Mobile's suffered a grave and terrible injury; will be uncontactable through it for a while!
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[18 Jul 2007|12:03am] |
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AND A REMINDER: Wizard People, Dear Reader at my place this Friday, from about sixish.
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[13 Jul 2007|11:09pm] |
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Dear old Hampstead Road house is disintegrating, its constituent members scattering to the four corners of the city! So, in less than a month I will be homeless - don't suppose anyone needs a housemate?
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