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Pseudodoxia Epidemica

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An old story. [08 Feb 2010|03:35pm]
she wasn't the same. her hands folded and unfolded in her lap, thin
fingers wrapping around each other. through her reflection in the
window she saw the trees against the dying afternoon skies; the leaves
obscuring the boundaries of her face. she was set, firm; her body
crackled as she inhaled and exhaled, full of concept and life and red
blood.

he looked at her through the sides of his eyes, hands hot on the
wheel. she was different to him, he knew that. she had something
inside of her he couldn't reach, you saw the edges of it when she
sighed. he accelerated past the speed limit and lit a cigarette; maybe
he was trying to die of a car accident or lung cancer before he died
of her.

"they'll kill you one day." she said into the window, misting the glass.
"one day so will you."

she had a melancholy laugh, a horrible beautiful laugh that tinkled to
the floor like shattered china. the first time he had heard it he
thought she'd put her fist through the coffeeshop window; maybe once
she had. there were spiderweb scars all up her right wrist, they
flashed like pearls in the light now, flickering underneath the length
of her sleeve. she was like a bad character from bukowski; she was
every sad girl.

"would you still love me if i wasnt broken?" she had asked him, late
one night; he had pretended he was asleep.

"where are we driving?" he asked her, tapping ash out of the window.
he couldn't fill the silences like she could, and the question hit the
air awkwardly; falling from the space between them.
"the ocean."

she couldn't swim; at least, thats what she had told him. he loved the
water, and when he took her to the beach she would let him go, while
she laughed her cracked laugh and blended into the white sand.

he took another drag and she shifted in her seat, coughed. his tried
and tested pickup line had always been 'do you have a cigarette?"; "i
only smoke pot" had been her icy reply. he always loved to watch her
light her thin joints; she shook out the match as soon as it took,
like she was afraid of it. it was an odd combination of fear, he
thought; fire and water.

they had reached the cliffs, anxiously tumbling rocks and saltgrass
that collapsed into the dirty sea. veins of stone ran down the face of
the thick rock, bleeding into the waves below. they came here in the
day, for him to write songs, and her to sketch the plumment. at
sunrise, so she could salute the sun and roll upwards in the cobra,
while he stared at her tiny body through the windshield and waited for
her to snap in two. in the rain, so they could lie in the lonely
scratchy grass and secretly fuck; tell each other poems. not at night,
not like this. the moon was alien against the saltwater skyscape, and
so was she.

nobody else came here because there was no reason to; it was just a
place, as good as any other, but it was her place. he never felt like
she wanted him here, more than she tolerated his presence. he felt
like that with her a lot, but this place was the nexus. still, she had
reconstructed the english language a little; 'the ocean' meant 'the
cliffs,' and he thought a lot about whether this was so she could
avoid ever talking about it at all. he always had to drive her, in
fact he'd never seen her behind the wheel. maybe she was afraid of
that, too; fire and water and cars.

"do you ever think about jumping?"

he realised she was at the edge, her body blurring into the black
horizon. she moved with such fluidity he barely noticed it at all;
here with the moon a fingernail in the torn sky she was even less
constant. she was everywhere at once, and he was nowhere; just looking
at her against the inky ocean put him offbalance. she had kicked her
shoes off and dangled her thin legs downwards.

"just to see what would happen," she finished lightly.

when they were at the cliff he never knew if she was talking to him,
or the sky, or the ocean, or God maybe. in case she was expecting a
response, he sat down beside her on the dirty rock. the cliff itself
had always reminded him of a tear, a jagged edge, something which was
unfinished. it made him uncomfortable, but she seemed to merge with
it, fusing with the untidy seams.

in the car he had thought about what to say to here, but it all fell
away from him as he stared into her, staring into the ocean. he
couldnt break it now, the wholeness of her form against the night, his
body against hers. inhaling the cold air he forced out the first of
his sentances; the only one he could remember.

"we're different, you and i."
"i know."
"we're made of different things."

he stared downards into the dense water. it was strange to think of
the ocean being alive at night, still throwing itself against the
edges of the world while everybody slept. the waves were like black
velvet and lace, sewn together carelessly, twisting in the wind. her
breathing was making him dizzy, so he fell over himself getting words
out into the night, sentences flowing over each other in dischord.

"i dont know what it is. we're similar, but different. you're built
out of something more beautiful. i dont think i can go on, knowing
theres these tiny fundamental inconsistancies. its like, you're a
butterfly, and i'm just a moth."

she sighed, or maybe it was water against cliff; it was so difficult
to seperate her from the surroundings. she swung her feet and rolled
forwards, her hands stretched over the edge, fingers suspended in the
naked air. she laughed, a different laugh, not like broken glass or
danger but like echoes or the ocean. hollow and aching.

"whats the difference between a butterfly and a moth? they can both fly."

he reached for her, or maybe he reached for air, but she pushed off.
for a tiny second she froze, floating before him, suspended in time,
tiny and beautiful and covered in scars. then she fell. he shut his
eyes and she flashed before them, rolling upwards into the cobra,
snapping in two. when he opened them she was gone, and the cliff face
was broken again.







[he wonders if her eyes were closed or open. he wonders whether or not
she held her breath. he wonders what she was thinking on impact;
whether her body hit water or stone. he wonders what she will look
like when they pull her out of the water. how long it took to fall. he
wonders if she just decided all of this on impulse, or if she knew
from the second she stepped into his car, like she knew everything
else.]
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Space, 40 years on [21 Jul 2009|01:21pm]
With all this recent talk about the 40th anniversary of man walking on the moon, I've been kinda blase about the whole thing. It's the sort of event that is so deep in culture that it's difficult to step back and peel away the layers to see what's truly there. This series of photos, however, are so beautiful and sharp (even to this day, digital photography can't compete with medium/large format film! LOOK AT IT!) that I can't help but look at them in awe.

I can't help but wish I'd been a child during the space race. It strikes me as a time that humanity threw their collective eyes above with a shared sense of childish wonder and focused ambition. It makes me want to write a screenplay riffing Wes Anderson. Childish wonder, larger than life events and the possibility that a family member will die? Perfect.

http://www.boston.com/bigpicture/2009/07/remembering_apollo_11.html




Update: There's more information about the technical specifics of the photographs here. Fascinating stuff! And I'd always wondered why space photography had grid markings, turns out it's a Reseau plate. NASA used the markings to help account for film distortion and calculate the angular distance(s) between specific points in the image.

http://gadgets.boingboing.net/2009/07/20/moon-landing-pics-ge.html
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[13 Jul 2009|07:33pm]
Happiness really breeds apathy. Sure it's the preferable state, but comfort slows the body and relaxes the mind. I often find myself wondering whether Friedman was right. Perhaps we could do with a horrible, foundation shaking shock every now and then to reminds us of the dangerous precipice on which we stand.

A Nearby House
A nearby house at nightfall.
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Holidays, Productivity and Profit [13 Jul 2009|03:53pm]
Holidays are always a bit of a disaster for me. Rather than being a liberating relief, filled with hours of lunch and afternoon tea with estranged friends which is often the dream during semester - I find it a rather debilitating malaise. Without any imperative to do anything, I don't do anything. I stay up all night doing nothing, wake up late and procrastinate further. The highlight of the day is going around the corner to fetch lunch, followed by another nap.

I'm convinced the two conditions for productivity are social obligation (the embarrassment of doing nothing or expectation of friends and partners) and having something less interesting to do ("aw I should clean but I've just got to finish this invoice!, and then when I'm done I'd better finish editing that work!").

In the absence of either or both these conditions I just spend my morning dancing around the loungeroom to Simon and Garfunkel's "Keep the Customer Satisfied".

And on that point, due to Elsa's imploration - our experiment in small business came to a profitable conclusion!



More of the fun!Collapse )
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[01 Jun 2009|04:35pm]
is feeling rather suffocated.
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LA ANTENA [28 Sep 2007|12:59am]


Best movie of the fucking year?
Uhm..
yeah!



http://www.laantena.ladoblea.com/ingles.htmLA
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[14 Jul 2007|05:24pm]
There's no "I" in "Team" but there is a "David Beckham".
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[05 Jun 2007|09:53pm]


Fuck! Mick Molloy is a GENIUS! The Nation is the most innovative show on television.
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So another post, hey? [03 Jun 2007|10:21pm]
Because I know no-one gives a shit about long ranty posts, Ive broken it into subsections. Read at your own leisure and interest.

So the world, hey?
Just a thought, Sophia Loren should really be paying her publicist so much more. I can't think of another occasion in recent memory where such a completely irrelevant washed up actress, has been newsworthy for such a long time.

So the state of Australian comedy, hey?
Although I think its interesting that The Chaser now has to result to just randomly offending people to get the laughs these days. I downloaded The Chaser Decides the other day and it was brilliant! Sure it was still occasionally low-brow, but it was in the right proportions. It still had their same style but it had focus and a purpose, and most importantly wasn't pandering for ratings. I just don't feel that The War on Everything can continue to sustain itself. Its almost as if every skit is just a wry observation, and the humour only comes from the "OH MY GOD THEY ACTUALLY WENT TO THE EFFORT! LOLZ!" value. More often than that, its usually something crass. immature, and childish as well. What happened to their silly intellectualism? That's why we loved them.

They will either need build a new program for next year, or otherwise we'll no doubt be forced to endure the pain of them sitting naked in the middle of George Street, stopping traffic by setting up a lounge room. Ha! Look how hilarious it is that 100 drivers are furious at us! Watch as police try and remove us! oh the hilarity! oh the farce! PS YOU CAN SEE MY BALLS! HI FIVE DUEDZ!. Then you'll have all the kids who've jumped on The Chaser bandwagon this year claiming how it was an inspiring satirical piece about Global Warming/ Love of Automobiles/City Congestion/Nudist Rights or whatever meaningful layer of meaning they want to pour all over it. Ew.

I heard about this new "The Nation" program Mick Molloy is starting and I was hoping it might add some healthy competition to spur both programs on. Lets hope it turns out well, although from what I know of Mick Molloy, he isn't terribly inspiring.

So what am I up to, hey?
Anyway, aside from such feelings of despair, I've had a fun and stressful last few weeks. Last weekend was the worst weekend of my life, Working on Vertigo's 6th Edition and trying to get the promotional stuff for Vertigo Dance worked out, a MAP Assessment on Friday, before a 3AM start on Saturday at Palm Beach for filming, heading back home to tidy up some loose ends for the new edition, napping for an hour, heading back into Uni and doing more work before trying to pop over to Vyv/Kait/Nicoles party that evening. Not surprisingly I really wasn't in the groove thing for partying on virtually no sleep, so I just went and saw Pirates of the Caribbean. It was interesting. But I feel the need to request they STOP RIGHT THERE. Then I stayed in the office and started work on the edition again at 8AM, only to keep working until 7 that night. I then came home, vomited, and turned my phone off for three days. Ew.

So what should I do now, hey?
On those fronts though, you should all check out the new Vertigo! Its really awesome! http://sa.uts.edu.au/vertigo/wp-content/editions/6.pdf  - 6 MB

You should all come to the huge Vertigo Party that's happening on Wednesday, called Vertigo dance. It's going to rock! http://myspace.com/vertigodancenight

So what's with all them there movies, hey?
But yeah, what the hell is it with "third films" this month? There is just a never ending wave of shit being thrown at us, but we just love paying to endure it!
Spiderman 3, Pirates 3, Shrek 3, Rush Hour 3 and so on. JUST STOP IT! I can't deal with the agonising pain. We all loved the first one of each of you, but it was for a reason. You were fresh, you were fun, you were unique and you were special!

We loved The Matrix but I can't dare to watch it any more after being forced to endure the two sequels. It really just makes you wish you'd NOT gone to the cinema and just pirated the feature. Given that these sort of block busters are the only things that bring people back to the cinema these days its not the sort of image and memory you want to be selling to your clientèle. Bitterness.

So a funny video, hey?

This is a 10 Minute preview of a big new family guy special that's going to go for an hour apparently, which just recreates the first Star Wars. ahhha, it looks brilliant! I had grown a little tired of Family Guy of late, but this is restoring my faith! (No I'm not cynical and disappointed about everything!!)



4 comments|post comment

[09 May 2007|01:07am]
Things you should be doing right now:

Bande à part


Alphaville


À bout de souffle
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[16 Apr 2007|11:00pm]
Im totally disgusted to say it, but Im just as excited for Redline as I am Grindhouse.

VAVROOM!
Im so glad that popular cinema is back to loving euro-super cars, and over that trashy period where they were all about aesthetically overrought asian trash cans. Woot!
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[12 Apr 2007|12:58am]
nerdCollapse )
1 comment|post comment

[11 Apr 2007|10:37pm]
Dear world,
not enough dating of Gia Coppola is currently being done on my behalf.
Please address,
Daniel
<3Collapse )
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[29 Mar 2007|05:04pm]
Pauline Hanson and Alan Jones just both wished me happy birthday in person. I'm way not down with that. Pauline even demanded her photo be taken with me. I'm really not down with that.


Although I have to admit, watching Craig Reucassel get punched in the face by a security guard was at least mildly entertaining (or terrifying. I'm not sure which. It was such a strange day...)
6 comments|post comment

[25 Mar 2007|06:42pm]
Oh, sinner man, where you gonna run to?
Oh, sinner man, where you gonna run to?
Oh, sinner man, where you gonna run to?
Oh, sinner man, where you gonna run to all on that day?

Run to the moon, "Moon won't you hide me?"
Run to the sea, "Sea won't you hide me?"
Run to the sun, "Sun won't you hide me all on that day?"

Lord says, "Sinner man, the moon'll be a bleeding."
Lord says, "Sinner man, the sea'll be a sinking."
Lord says, "Sinner man, the sun'll be a freezin' all on that day!"

Run to the Lord, "Lord won't you hide me?"
Run to the Lord, "Lord won't you hide me?"
Run, run, "Lord won't you hide me all on that day?"

Lord says "Sinner man, you should've been a praying."
Lord says "Sinner man, you should've been a praying."
Lord says "Sinner man, you should've been a praying all on that day."
7 comments|post comment

[14 Mar 2007|12:28am]
Well, Vertigo has finally started paying dividends!
Today I attended this:

Style Villa an Australian first

Celebrities and style icons are set to attend Australia's first ever Style Villa in association with the 2007 Movie Extra Filmink Awards.

The event will showcase the height of luxury brands in fashion, accessories and beauty to the elite A-list guests of the awards ceremony.

Following the success of Style Villas in the US, this Aussie first provides branded treats such as My Sweet Feet, Morrissey, Dermalogica, Yves Saint Laurent, Pink Hibiscus, Sarah Vintage Jewellery and much more.

The Style Villa will take place at Sydney's iconic State Theatre on Tuesday March 13, culminating in the official media launch for the 2007 Movie Extra Filmink Awards.

Which is basically just an opportunity for all of these high end brands to throw promotional goods your way. Unfortunately it was very skewed towards womens products, but I now do have over $2000 of skin products and make up.....
yay.
But whether I needed it or not, I love being given free stuff. I got the completely pointless gifts of a model vespa, jewlery (even some hot man jewlery, although for it to fill its "maximum hot capacity" I feel I should be spanish, extremely hot and rather tanned), shoes, womens underwear (the highly sexual kind which makes me somewhat uncomfortable discussing. I walked into the room where they had their booth set up, and there was just 3 european models wandering around in g-strings and such and I was deeply, deeply uncomfortable...), perfume,  random YSL and Morrisey stuff (even though his shit), chocolate and more I can't remember.
Its basically an O-Week for the coture set, except instead of a free BBQ they had free cocktails.

Also over the course of the day, because my co-editor Michelle and I felt deeply out of touch with the ridiculously-thin-uber-fashion-whore-devil-wears-prada types that totally 0wnd the event, we befriended a random other girl who was wandering around there about our age. She was all shy, dark haired, "don't really want to be here" like, but was really friendly and we became friends (like you do when you go to a party and you don't know anyone, and you meet someone else who is in the same position and you get through it together). Then we later found out it was Isabel Lucas *awkward* (well not that I had any idea who the shit she was, but after some internet research it seems she's fair big, being on tv and all that stuff). The weirdest thing is, she doesn't look anything like the pictures of her around the internets. If you look closely you can tell its still her, but her hair is much darker and she's very quiet, none of this "IM ZO HAPPY TO BE A MOOODLE!!!" grinning like an idiot, just a girl who wanted to spend more time drawing and writing poetry. I really felt for her given how manhandled her life seemed to be, she had no control over anything it seemed, with other people constantly organising her life for her. Sucks to be famous and wealthy. She also got given more stuff than us on account of her fame. Bitch.

Oh well, either way, Im loovin the free shit!
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[06 Mar 2007|01:47pm]



The second edition of Vertigo is now  down and out! We decided that because virtually no existing students had any idea who the shit we were, we'd get super racy and pump ourselves with as much bad taste as is humanly possible, and thats just the cover! Its also suitably shocking to stimulate discussion amongst normal students!  The Chaser has even asked us to come and help them out with some stuff for their new series, but once we help them we're then going to declare war on the chasers war on everything and create or own competing television show where we ruin their stunts.  Slayed.

GET DOWNLOADED!!
40 MB



As usual, thanks to
cshine  (ie captain sam!) for the hostage and all of that.
Once I get through the university bureaucracy I'll have them all uploaded at http://sa.uts.edu.au/vertigo !
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[28 Feb 2007|04:36pm]
In RE: Notice of intention to sue for the neccesicary inclusion of scalding water in all of your beverages for which I am greatly intollerant, and unfairly margianalised from.

Dear The Twingings Company Limited (By Royal Appointment of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II),

I the undersigned, Daniel Charles Stone, hereby officially notify The Twingings Company Limited (By Royal Appointment of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II) that Daniel Charles Stone intends to bring a civil action for the The Twingings Company Limited (By Royal Appointment of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II)'s unfair dependency on scalding and dangerously hot water in all of your products. On the 28th of Febuary, 2007 The Twingings Company Limited (By Royal Appointment of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II) in an arbitrary and capricious way, not in accordance with the law, and in breach of the personal rights of Daniel Charles Stone:
  • Burnt My inner thigh and Toe;
  • Created a psychiatric impediment to tea drinking for a future unspecified period;
  • Destroying the nerve endings within my partners (Elsa Kate Dechert) mouth, henceforth hampering our Macking Ability;
  • Created misleading products, implying there was a significant and noteworthy difference between Traditional Afternoon Tea which was consumed and my regular choice, English Breakfast Tea;
Please retain legal advice and respond to these claims in the next 7 days. If you have any further queries do not hesitate to contact me on +61 2 43422096. I look forward to your prompt response.

Regards,

Daniel Charles Stone
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[12 Feb 2007|11:32pm]


After 24 straight hours of bloody abuse and intellectual agression we've finally wrestled around the room and beaten down our first copy of Vertigo. Unfortunately I didn't get to write much of it, just adding jokes in here and there through everyone elses ideas, but I did design virtually everything. See if you can guess when I stopped giving a shit because it was 4am and I had barely slept for a fortnight beforehand. Yeah, its pretty obvious. lol.


What-chal, think?

<3's to cshine for hostage!
4 comments|post comment

[30 Jan 2007|10:56pm]
Rush. Rush Rush.
9-5 Internship. + Two Jobs. Commuting. Early; Very. Late; Very. Sleep; Early. Wake; Early. Eat; Rarely. Enjoy; Rarely. Relax; Rarely. Panic; Often. Unread Inbox; 123.
Rush. Rush. Rush
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