It's eerie. Last evening and today, it's all dark and quiet. Everyone at home and work are in bed with the latest flu and I'm the last man standing. I feel like the Omega Man, or like somebody in some Twilight Zone episode where you wish everyone would just shut up and the next thing you know, tumbleweeds.
Still a bit difficult to combine work and home this week, as I have a lot on and no one left to help me on either front. At least I'm only cooking for one at the moment - and that was just Woolies Caesar Salad in a bag. Left mother with tea, a bottle of water and videos when I left for work this morning. Had to wake the poor dear up. At least she looked better and not so much the have Fisher and Sons on speed dial like she did yesterday. I know, that's hardly looking after her but what am I supposed to do? I have deadlines I'm struggling to meet here.
Finally took a chill pill too. There goes my ability to write, maybe forever, but it had to be done. At first it was kind of fun: no guilt, no worries, no nothing. I was thinking this is what it must be like to be conscience free. But then my evening's entertainment rolled up, quite the buffet of treats, including Jason Connery in Smallville and Anthony Starke in CSI. And I was unmoved by all of it. I don't like this. I used to be more affected watching paint dry. I hope this wears off. I want my emotions back. Okay, now I sound like I'm in a bad episode of Star Trek.
Just got the above link from, dare I say it, a friend. "This was disturbing and I thought of you." Heh. I like that. I think I want it on a t-shirt J. Interesting dilema on the snuff films as art. I don't know, I think we're a bit more pragmatic here than in NY. I have been to an exhibition of crime scene photos but they were presented in the police museum as historical documents and they were all from the 20s-50s (thus free from our 50 year privacy law) and very tame. I wish they'd had an exhibition book because I'm a total ghoul but they were all so uber noir and most of the photographs were chosen for composition, lighting and what they said about the life and times so the exhbition kind of edged into art. I have a postcard on my desk still from the exhibition, just a photo of the hands of a woman who had killed her husband. Very noir and creepy. I guess she has me pegged J
I was talking about how we harvest no crops from the garden due to all the wildlife grazing in the back yard (qv the Simpsons) - it's not over grown, it's an ecosystem J. It's because the last scraps of bushland nearby have all been buried under concrete that our yard has become a wildlife preserve. I remember dairy farms, nurseries and market gardens still in the area when I started uni. I'm still stunned at how much LA hadn't changed, how I can see buildings in Get Smart that I walked past everyday I was there (Get Smart obviously doing a lot of location work in the area) but I can watch the Matrix and they're standing where I used to eat lunch and blowing up where I used to work and getting run down by the train I used to catch and it's all gone. Bet they're going to have to use a lot of cgi to give Martin Place any sort of continuity. I am deeply envious of my friends and cousins who live in sleepy villages where the only thing that has changed in the last 150 years of photographed history (and I suspect you could tag another 800 years to that) is the signs out the front of the shops.
Trust me, I am censoring myself here. You have no idea what I don't post. It beggars belief.
- Jonathan Rhys Meyers is kicking on
- The Powerpuff Girls Movie
- The night Wolf Rock ripped into Britain's finest
- White couple has black twins in IVF mix-up