Those perishin' spheres! Dozens of 'em!'s Blurty Day [entries|friends|calendar] Those perishin' spheres! Dozens of 'em! [ website | Sister Diary: Anive ] [ userinfo | blurty userinfo ] [ calendar | blurty calendar ]

[08 Dec 2003|08:51am] [ mood | contemplative ] [ music | Tracy Chapman - Talkin' bout a revolution ] I'm going to end up the babbling little eccentric in the corner of the bar at this rate. Talking to myself and the bricks. Dave spent most of the evening clamped in conversation with Lyndsey, and i looked out of the window at the now desolate Village Hall, swept of it's former inhabitants by the cruelest speed of time. What the fuck? You're talking to yourself again, Phyllis. Wake up! What are you thinking about? You wouldn't know. You wouldn't know. None of you would know. Get your lovely gas giants here!

Billy and teh Elves: Episode 8 [08 Dec 2003|09:21am] The elf makes obscene models of Billy's parents, with overblown features and internal organs on the outside, sets them up on the lawn, and using electrical impulses, makes them jump around in a kind of horror performance of Backstreet Boys records. Billy begins to dig a hole to bury himself in. Get your lovely gas giants here!

[08 Dec 2003|09:28am] Still people banging on about the same subjects on Kilroy. As inarticulately as usual: "so i turned round and said", and "at the end of the day". Fucking apes. It's depressing to see serious subjects discussed for chimps by chimps, reaching no conclusions whatsoever. Other than one person being able to bellow slightly more loudly and incoherently than another. Get your lovely gas giants here!

[08 Dec 2003|09:32am] I'm not mad about it, but i've gotta do it, pick up the gun, put it to my head, blow you out of my mind, till you're dead Get your lovely gas giants here!

[08 Dec 2003|10:10am] TIME STARTED: 10:11am LITTLE ABOUT ME...... FULL NAME: Neil BIRTHDAY: 06-09 STAR SIGN: Virgo AGE: 27 WHAT R U LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW?: Nothing but my own lousy mind LAST THING U SAID?: "No" WHAT IS SITTING NEXT TO U RIGHT NOW?: Not a great deal. LAST THING U ATE?: Bacon and Boursoin WHO DO U WANT TO SPEND THE REST OF UR LIFE WITH? There is currently no one. WHERE DO U WANT TO GO ON UR HONEYMOON?: A fucking big mock up of the moon FIRST DAUGHTERS NAME?: I don't know, it's all not for me. SONS NAME? : that either HOW MANY KIDS DO YOU WANT? I've no idea. WHO (or what) MAKES U HAPPY? Nobody and no one. Not truly. WHO (or what) MAKES U SAD? Divisions amongst friends. HOW MANY BUDDIES ON UR LIST? About 7 WHAT DO U LIKE TO DO? Write. Terrible, nasty, dreadful things. About killer elves, and fizzing bombs. See former entries. WHO DID YOU TALK TO LAST ON PHONE?: Melanie. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS OR GLASSES? I'm supposed to. But i don't. I COLOR?: Brown HAIR COLOUR? Dark brown HEIGHT? 5'8" WORST THING ABOUT OPPOSITE SEX? Sometimes they don't know what the fuck a real man is, they go for complete mysogynistic cunts, and wonder why they end up hurt. IF U COULD CHANGE ONE THING ABOUT UR SELF WHAT WOULD IT BE: I'd be less "nice" SIBLINGS: Two wonderful sisters. YOU EVER HATED ANY PERSON IN YOUR FAMILY? No. FAVORITES... VEGETABLE: Fucking potatoes. CANDY: Refreshers M&MS?: The normal ones. Although they are pretty much just tiny Smarties. DRINK: Guiness. MOVIES: Kes, The Thing, Alien. TV SHOW: Twin Peaks JEWELRY: My Griever necklace from FFVIII NUMBER: 8 FAV MONTH? October NIGHT OR DAY? Night SUN OR RAIN? Rain SCARY OR HAPPY MOVIES?: Scary FAV SAYINGS? : "Irvine Kinneas......LOSER!" CAREER: Aspiring writer/pub dogsbody. Catering...quintissential trade for a struggling writer. GOING TO UNIVERSITY: Possibly. However, with crushing fees it doesn't look likely. I don't deal well with the pressure of trying to put a stamp on a letter, let alone paying off a university loan. HAVE YOU EVER? DRANK ALCOHOL? Yes. TAKEN DRUGS? Yes. BROKEN THE LAW? Well, yes..look fucking above, dunderhead. BROKEN A BONE? No. PHYSICAL FIGHT?: No. RODE IN A POLICE CAR? No. GONE TO A CONCERT? Yes. BEEN ON A PLANE? No. COME CLOSE TO DYING? Not really. Almost choked on a marble. BEEN IN A SAUNA? No. BEEN IN A HOT TUB? No. SWAM IN THE OCEAN? Yes. WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT THE FOLLOWING: SCARS? They're a tell tale sign of a wound, possibly attained during an accident or fight. What the fuck else? ABORTION? It's not my right to choose. COUNTRY MUSIC? It makes me want to boil a family of fleas. CLASSICAL: Very much like it. SOAP OPERAS? They provide comic relief. Which is all they are. AIRPLANES: Don't care. AMUSEMENT PARKS: Fun when you're gathered at the machines banging the 2p's off the shelves. YOUR GOOD LUCK CHARM? Griever WORST SONG U EVER HEARD? "18 Strings" - Tin Man. A diabolical techno cover or Nirvana's "Smells like teen spirit" DO U SLEEP WITH A STUFFED? No. I sleep with many uncared for cd's and a few sprinklings of tobacco. I am a slovenly individual. YOUR MOST PRIZED POSSESSION? My humour. ARE YOU? GOOD ACTOR/ACTRESS? Possibly. We'll find out soon enough. GOOD STORYTELLER: I could be, with the right education. HAVE YOU EVER HAD: CHICKEN POX? I can't remember. COLD: Still fucking have. STITCHES? No. BLOODY NOSE? Yes. CANCER?: No. SURGERY: No. HOSPITALISED? Yes. DO YOU? ENJOY PARKS? Yes. LIKE SCHOOL?: When i felt the twinkling of love in the 5th year, yes. Prior to that, it was like being in a dystopian world. LIKE TO PARTY?: When i fucking can, which is not often. WOULD YOU? EAT A LIVE HAMSTER FOR A MILLION DOLLARS? If it was braised. GO TO A HANSON CONCERT IF YOU HAD A FREE TICKET?: Only to see if they're really old now. GET ANYTHING PIERCED OTHER THAN YOUR EARS? Yes. KILL SOMEONE YOU DIDN'T KNOW FOR 15 BILLION DOLLARS? No. IF YOU WERE STUCK ON AN ISLAND, WHICH PERSON WOULD YOU WANT WITH YOU? Not telling. WHAT THREE THINGS WOULD YOU TAKE FROM YOUR ROOM TO A DESERTED ISLAND? stereo, paper, pen YOUR LIFE MOTTO? Kick fate in the face IF YOU WERE IN LOVE WITH SOMEONE AND IT WOULD HURT THEM IF THEY FOUND OUT, WOULD YOU TELL THEM? No. WHAT ARE YOUR NICKNAMES? Phyllis, Zoo, Stillers, Mutley. TIME FINISHED? 10:35 Get your lovely gas giants here!

The Secret Revealed: A very different “Macbeth.” [08 Dec 2003|10:41am] GCSE stuff. The stupid fucking script i wrote for creative writing. I could have done better, but it was such a pain in the arse i decided to just get on with it. A bit like pulling teeth. It's a "comedy" spoof of Macbeth. The secret revealed. (The detective enters. He approaches the gate of the castle, where he rings the bell. Porter comes to the gate) Detective: Hello, good sir! I am here to right these recent wrongs! Porter: Ah, you’ll be this detective, then. We’ve been waiting for you. Detective: Well, quite. I did send a carrier pigeon after all. Six o’clock, everybody gathered, solve the crime, WAMMO! Case closed. Porter: I’m afraid I ate the pigeon. Was a little bit on the tiddled side, and er, it was there. Detective: What? The very incongruousness of it! Porter: Never mind, mate. I stuffed him for you. Detective: Yeuch! Well, I know why he didn’t come back now…that’s one case solved. Never mind, gather everybody, would you. If you’re capable. Porter: Shertainly shir! (Hic!) (opens gate clumsily, and the detective walks past him, giving him a look of disdain) LATER (All are in the throne room. Macduff is picking his teeth with his sword, and looking indignant. Lennox is swigging ale and looking nervous. Rosse is standing against the wall his eyes looking at the ground. Malcolm and Donalbain are throwing a sword playfully between each other, and the doctor and gentlewoman are muttering secretly in the corner. Enter Detective, and Porter.) Porter: Here they are, sir. Detective: Thank-you. And thank-you for eating my pigeon, which is now as dead as a plastic kettle. Clear off! And take your decomposing stench with you, you drunken old wretch. Porter: Charming! That’s “Stench of depraved Porter”, I’ll have you know. I’m off to get as stuffed as your pigeon… Detective: GET OUT! (Porter exits, laughing like a hyena. Detective stares at the people around him, feeling slightly foolish.) Er, greetings, noble men and women! I am glad to see you are all in attendance. Macduff: What is this gathering, man? Have we not all suffered enough? Why must you torment us more? Detective: Please, calm down, my Celtic chum. I am here to prove beyond any reasonable doubt, who has committed these evil deeds. Lennox: Good god, this is worse than Columbo. Detective: Yes, but my coat is infinitely more stylish, and significantly less shabby. And I have no curiously elusive wife. Doctor: Why are we here? We are but humble servants. Detective: Everybody here is a suspect, regardless of status, royal descent or otherwise. Please could you all be quiet, there will be ample time for you all to shout indignantly later. That’s when I leave the room to let you argue with each other. Macduff: As long as I get to do the most booming yell. Doctor: And I, the most croaky. Detective: Whatever you please. Shall we make a start? The way I see it, these murders were too far apart, and too widespread to have been carried out by just one perpetrator. There are several people here with a gnawing guilt in their gut. Doctor: Nah, sorry mate. I ate some refried beans. Didn’t entirely agree with me. My stomach and bowels feel like a gas chamber. (Cough, hack) Detective: Doctor, please. Your stomach contents are of no interest to me. What is, is your contact with the late Lady Macbeth, who is now in the grave with our departed King. Doctor: She was sick! She said things…awful things…during her sleep. Nasty malevolent things. Detective: Things that may have incited yourself? And the gentlewoman here? Doctor: No! She was referring to herself! Detective: How do I know this? You could have had her poisoned to keep you and this barking old croan out of the spotlight! Doctor: Lies! A doctor never forgets his responsibilities! Detective: Oh, you’ve not seen E.R then? Doctor: That doesn’t actually exist yet…. (Long pause) Detective: At any rate warty quack, you may rest easy. For it was not you that masterminded these foul crimes. It was in fact far too much I feel for your demented brain to contemplate. And you had nothing to gain. Doctor: Oh, cheers (Sarcastically). I know my place now. Detective: Think nothing of it, squire. Ok, moving swiftly on, there were three involved in this murder. Malcom and Donalbain…. Malcolm: That’s untrue! We would never kill anyone! Don’s an utter coward… and I would never kill anyone, let alone daddy! Detective: Yes, only because he kept you in college! You should have let me finish, I was about to absolve you from all responsibility. Donolbain: Ace! Does that mean we can go now? I’m bursting. Detective: Surely you want to find out the truth? Donalbain: Nah, not really. I’ve got swingball practise in half an hour. Malcolm: And I, likewise. Detective: Oh, fine. Even a super sleuth grilling can’t keep the youth of today occupied. Anyway, I am about to reveal the identity of the murderers. It was actually a remarkable web of deceit and backstabbing on a par with the most unrealistic “Eastenders” Christmas special. Macduff! Macduff: Sorry? (Absently eating a marshmallow now, on the end of his sword) Detective: You had everything to gain from these murders. You would have been seen as the hero; the righteous warrior who dispatched the evil Macbeth. Macduff: Hang on a sec! He was evil! You all saw it! He sided with the witches, HE wanted to become King, and did everything to get it! Detective: Not so, sir. It was an elaborate set up carried out by you, along with Rosse and Lennox here. Lennox: Crivens, sir! Explain yourself at once! Detective: I will indeed, sir. Remember the three witches? I put it to you three, that you were those three witches. Rosse, Lennox, and Macduff: (Aghast). WHAT? Detective: Macduff, how did you know about Macbeth’s involvement with the witches? Macduff: (Angrily) What? Speak more specifically man, or hold you tongue! Detective: Well you just a minute ago mentioned the three witches. You knew about them, despite the fact you never met them. You made the simple error of telling me this without realising it. Macduff: Damn. Detective: And these two were your compatriots. You disguised yourself as three witches, in order to carry out your plan; to cause the destruction of Macbeth by manipulating him into killing Duncan, thereby leaving you free to “find him out” and slay him in the end. This would leave you and these two with all the plaudits, and all the honours imagineable. Macduff: Well, I’ve one thing to say. Detective: What’s that? Macduff: Look over there! It’s Banquo’s ghost! Detective: Where? Macduff: Leg it, boys! (Rosse, Lennox and Macduff all bolt for it.) Detective: Guards! Seize them! Doctor: We don’t have any, they’re all dead! Detective: (Slaps his forehead). Oh, no! Get your lovely gas giants here!

[08 Dec 2003|10:43am] And i got a B+ for this, my Macbeth essay itself. The synopsis is to explain the role of the witches. I did well on vocabulary again, but was let down slightly by explanation of various points. Macbeth In this essay I will look into the multi-faceted role that the witches play in Shakespeare’s “Macbeth”, and in particular their influence on Macbeth himself. The first and seemingly most apparent reason for the witches inclusion was simply to inject a sense of evil into the play from the start. In Shakespeare’s day witches were a palpable manifestation of evil in many people’s minds, and were indeed the epitome of everything that was seen as terrible and un-natural. We see them right from the start of the play, with talk by the three of “Thunder, lightning, or in rain”, used to give an immediate atmosphere of dread and evil, as they enter, and later when they talk of destroying a man’s ship and him, with the lines “Here I have a pilot’s thumb, wrecked as homeward he did come”. All of these things were things that people at the time attributed to witches. The next and possibly the most important role of the witches, is their influence and manipulation of Macbeth himself. They begin closely tied to Macbeth, as at one point they state, “fair is foul, and foul is fair”, as echoed by Macbeth later: “So foul and fair a day I have not seen”, and remain so throughout. We see this most effectively in the line later in the play when the second witch says “By the pricking of my thumb, something wicked this way comes” and his personal interaction with them turns him from the path of being a good and loyal nobleman into committing atrocities in his quest to become King, first with his final decision to kill Duncan: “I go, and it is done; the bell invites me. Hear it not, Duncan; for it is a knell, that summons thee to heaven or to hell”, and then later with his killing of the servants: “O, yet I do repent of my fury, That I did kill them,” and even on his murderous trail having Banquo killed to protect his ascent, as well as attempting to have the life of Banquo’s son taken: “Fleance, his son that keeps him company, whose absence is no less material to me than is his father’s, must embrace the fate of that dark hour”, and so his list of victims grows longer – although he does not succeed in having Fleance killed – and includes those who threaten or could threaten his ascendancy. He begins to believe he is meant to become King, after the witches’ prediction of him becoming Thane of Cawdor comes true. He already has the seeds planted in his mind, and so is already harbouring dark thoughts as to how to achieve his next step; to become King, as in the lines in which he says to himself: “Why hath it given me earnest of success, commencing in a truth? I am Thane of Cawdor. If good, why do I yield to that suggestion, whose horrid image doth unfix my hair?” Confirmation in his personal thoughts that he is already in their control, and even at such an early stage is contemplating murder to make this prediction come true. Shakespeare also clearly has a love of invoking emotions in his audience. In the case of “Macbeth”, it is the emotion of fear and hatred, and of fascination. People of any era are addicted to entertainment that scares them. And so, the physical manifestation of the witches is just about perfect, they are made to be overtly menacing and scary, and Shakespeare truly exploited and played on the fear people had of them at the time. One of the most potent scenes is the spell-casting scene: “Wool of bat, and tongue of dog”, and “Double, double, toil and trouble”, all extremely sinister and dark rhetoric. The character of Lady Macbeth should also be considered when looking at the role of the witches. She never actually meets them but is almost part of their society, and is an important tool in the manipulation and influence of her husband. She constantly talks of her husband’s manhood, and makes quite a speech at one point, confirming her link to the witches: “Come, you spirits that tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here, and fill me from the crown to the top-full with direst cruelty, make thick my blood” Finally, and possibly the most interesting aspect is the reason that Shakespeare uses the witches as almost an element of controversy, in that they are very anti-religious in this play, and in a predominantly Catholic era, would have raised a few eyebrows. For example: “Liver of blaspheming Jew”. “Macbeth” is at it’s heart a battle between good and evil, encapsulated in the personal battle of Macbeth. He is forever struggling with his own battle and the influence the witches have on him. It is arguable they are needed at all, but the view of them and their popularity then, makes them a very fitting element to a play about a battle between good and evil. Get your lovely gas giants here!

[08 Dec 2003|10:55am] I have spent most of this morning coughing until i choke, which can't be good for my smoke encrusted lungs. I even did it just then. Luckily i have no tobacco left. Unluckily, i have money to buy some. Get your lovely gas giants here!

[08 Dec 2003|11:01am] Well there you go. I just got so frsutrated with my rampant coughing that i banged the pull out shelf so hard, it knocked the desk back so that the computer plug came out, leaving me with a cheery "no signal" on my monitor. Fucking A. Still, maybe the hypnotherapy later will sort out my irritable mind. Gotta get off cigarrettes. Might crowbar some of that into the conversation. Get your lovely gas giants here!

[08 Dec 2003|11:04am] Ok, what really makes me fed up sometimes is this; there's Dave and Lyndsey talking like old friends... there's Mel and Gordon mending bridges (again), and there's me...on my fucking own last night.... i can't make small talk, it bores me to the point of wanting to walk around the pub with a circular saw. But am i supposed to do this to connect with someone? It just makes the truth more apparent; that i've never yet met a women i truly click with. There's always something wrong. I'm just the quirky temperamental "friend", the one who is always just there for someone to talk to about how bad their love life is. Fuck off, i've had a gutful. Get your lovely gas giants here!

[08 Dec 2003|11:08am] It's now ten past eleven. I've got to go to work, and then hypno, and then Dave's. I don't want to do two of these. I'm just too tired, and want to sit here and write some more. I might give the Bell a miss tonight, for the first time in ages. Spending too much on Guiness. Ah, the Guiness. I could drink that until my veins turn black. Get your lovely gas giants here!

[08 Dec 2003|06:06pm] Geoff's trying to hypnotise me into giving up smoking. It's not quite working yet. These things make me want to smoke: 1. Dave's militaristic approach to music creation. 2. The Bell. 3. Not smoking. Get your lovely gas giants here!

[08 Dec 2003|06:08pm] And so it begins again. Comic Potential is back, which means rehersals take place for THAT tonight. So i may see Zoe sooner than i thought. It would be nice, i need regular contact with somebody who GIVES a shit. I don't yet know that she does, but i hope she does, she's one of very few people anywhere near the part of plankton that i'm on. Get your lovely gas giants here!

[08 Dec 2003|06:12pm] So my last cigarrette was this morning, cobbled together from other cigarrettes. I might have to do that again, i can feel the absence of noxious smoke beginning to trouble my bloodstream. Which can't be right. Hopefully i'll start to hallucinate soon and forget about the withdrawel symptoms. Or i could just keep typing a lot of meaningless rhetoric on here to boil it out of my mind. What a fucking choice. Get your lovely gas giants here!

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