Tuesday, 31 July 2007

Monday, 30 July 2007

an insight; a plea; an explanation.

Having found my own particular hole in the wall, I realised with a sharp pang that the end was near. I crawled into the fissure and held my breath . . . but nothing happened. nothing happened. nothing happened.

"Please", I whispered desperately, with a strangely cold memory nudging the words into existence, "it's warm here. TOO WARM. And I know my time--"

I felt something.

Did I feel something?

OH FUCK! I FEEL IT! -- FUCK

No. Please. I didn't know this. Do you think if I knew this that I woul-ARRGGHHHH!

breathing. sobbing.

so cold, now. i can feel that. i can surely feel that. so cold.

but nothing else.

love,
monuments.

Sunday, 29 July 2007

"i made a highly complicated, demanding, almost experimentalist visit to the bathroom"

The title of this post is a quote from Martin Amis' "Money", but here is the passage that I really wanted to share:

"You understand, during the past few days (and I am especially displeased with this thought and wish now that I had never given it headroom), I'm finding myself more and more reluctant to face up to the fact that all women's mouths have at some point played hostess to a man's . . . They all have. Every last one. Even the old dears, the sainted grannies, even the twisted relics who lurk like pub parrots in the corner of the lounge - they've all done it, God damn it. They've all done it, or they will soon . . . I mean, in ten years, twenty, they'll all have done it by then, every woman alive. Sisters, mothers, grans: ladies, what are you doing? What have you done?
I'm not shocked, just disappointed. My tone is not angry. My tone is concerned, tender, grieving. Imagine, please, my fat beady face, my trustful frown. I wince and shrug. I lay it all before you. Quite a number of you girls have done that thing to me. Thanks. I thoroughly enjoyed it - I was grateful, touched. Thanks again. No, really. But what are you doing? Oh, what have you done?
On the other hand, look what the human mouth has to put up with. I'm trying to see it from your point of view. Unimaginable, Third World food-mountains are churned and swirled through that delicate processor - pampas of cattle, fathoms of living sea, horizons of spud and greens, as well as conveyor belts of Wallys and Blastburgers, vats of flavouring and colouring, plus fags, straws, thermometers, dentist's drills, doctor's shears, drugs, tongues, fingers, feeding tubes. Is this any way to treat the mouth, the poor mouth, the human mouth? And so perhaps, after all this, the constant cartoon of pigments, textures and impacts, a man's dick doesn't look that bad.
Ah what the hell. Pretty soon, most of the guys will have done it too, and we'll all be in the same boat, along with you girls. I suppose I might even get round to it myself one of these days - I wouldn't put it past me, what with these perverse thoughts, these crashers, dossing in my head. With their milk cartons on the windowsill and their damp double-mattresses on the floor, they grow in confidence every day. They were nervous at first, it's true, but no one has tried very hard to evict them and they're used to the uncertainty, they're used to living rough. There is historical necessity involved. There is hysterical necessity. In time, all men's mouths will have given headroom to men's dicks too. We'll do it one day, though we of all people really ought to know better. And what a wonderful joke that will be."

Hahahahhahaahahahhaa.

Love it.

Saturday, 28 July 2007

Pre-holiday Murakami and Holiday Amis

The weekend before leaving for Melbourne, I sat myself on the couch and read After Dark by Haruki Murakami. In the past I've enjoyed The Elephant Vanishes and The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, so I was looking forward to it. It's a very short novel, but this was great because it meant one afternoon with a scotch or three was enough to immerse myself AND finish it, which is a rare thing for me these days (am I getting slow? old? is life just too busy? are distractions like TV and the internet shortening my attention span? - anyway, I digress). I thoroughly recommend After Dark, I truly felt it, and the 7-hour timeline was refreshing.

And then, there was more Martin Amis - this time, Money. I started this on the plane to Melbourne and continued reading in Bali. I didn't read so much over the holiday though, so it took me quite awhile to get through. It is a bit of a disjointed read, comprised of so many short scenes that it's easy to keep putting the book down rather than continuing to plow through. Quite the opposite of After Dark.

John Self, the central character of the book pleads that he's after our sympathy. Well, he's got mine. Idealistically, we should probably despise him, but he's just too adorable in all of his piggery. And I'm sure we all identify with it on at least some shameful level. This book is brilliant. I realise I'm coming to it two decades too late, and I have found critical comments on the web saying that the book has lost some power over time, and that it's hard to read this without referencing other 80s books focusing on materialism such as American Psycho. I disagree though. The 80s might be behind us, but I don't think materialism is, and I certainly still think this is a book worth reading. For me, the sweetest moment in this book was having Martin Amis himself consoling John Self with a roll of toilet paper after they watched the royal wedding, and saying "Keep a grip on it. Don't worry. Everything's going to turn out okay in the end".

So what Next for me? It's time for some light reading. Today I accidentally realised that the next Thursday Next novel has been released, so I promptly made the purchase.

until next time,
monuments.

Tuesday, 24 July 2007

the last 9 days

Tomorrow I return back to The Grind after nine days away which can basically be summed up as some time in melb, a trip to Bali, some more time in melb to see Blonde Redhead (oarsome! (sic)). I'm a bit tired for writing at the moment, so I guess that last sentence is the only update for now.

gahhhhh workkkkk tomorrowwwwwwwww......................

Thursday, 12 July 2007

The Rachel Papers

Yes, more Amis for me, this time from Martin. This has been one of those slow-for-no-reason reads that tend to happen when motivation is sliding and Other Things (mainly sleep, recovering from flu and coughing up your lungs) take priority. Despite that, I did enjoy it alot and I've only just realised with the help of Wikipedia that there is a film version.

OK so the thing is, the main character of this book is like a straight version of me, in too many ways. Except he's smarter and more well-written-and-read. He's described in the blurb as a "precociously intelligent and highly sexed teenager", which leads to quite an eye opening read; but it's not these aspects that I want to focus on.

Since I'm keenly aware that you - my Zero Readers Out There - are waiting with bated breath .. here is the point. Well not here, but next paragraph:

The end of the book, after Charles' infatuation with Rachel and eventual conquest, focuses on his realisation that he doesn't want to be with her. For one thing, the sex life is too mundane, he wants it much dirtier. In the last few pages when Charles approaches his Father about his marriage and misttress, he has "no moral energy left" and fully understands that marriage (and any long-term relationship) is a compromise. This also ties in well with his Brother-In-Law Norman's reluctance to let Jenny have his baby - not because he doesn't want children (let her adopt!) but because he doesn't want to screw her once she's had a child - "like waving a flag in space".

I've been in the same situation as Charles a number of times, and not as a teenager. Did Charles learn from this young experience and change? Or is it a pattern that he will repeat, as I have? If not, does that make me immature? And my real question is this - if I identify so well with these shallow male characters - the teen who thinks he's in love and then needs to escape fast once he's succeeded in his conquest; the twenty-something who is happy with his wife but sleeps around and doesn't want her to be a Mother for his own selfish sexual reasons; the father who has a mistress but won't leave his wife because "it's all too complicated and expensive" - am I a bad person? Are most guys like this? Is it exclusively a male trait? And how do I fit into that as a gay male? What say you!?

Friday, 6 July 2007

i hope this all works out for you (or "yes-i'm-still-listening-to-deloris")

POSTPONEMENT PLAN

...in which the rot seizes and is sized; onwards and under...

I hope this all works out for you
but I'm only sayin it
cause I know you need it too
are you a ghost trying to stow
inside the people that you know
or just blow through
come on up to the city when you can
watch the neon banks of light
beat back the night time
I used to think that the glow
was something new and beautiful
now I don't know

I feel bad if I don�t get in on time
even after these years
still don't know why
Is it because each day the sun
builds another row of fields
I know I'm dying

hiding from your friends
all the things that make you love them
waking up again
yeah I got dreams but I forget them

so all this
are you trying to breathe it in
you got light on your face
spit down your chin
still have to hold up and walk
around the skeleton you scored
til it's woken

(til it's broken til it's hopeful, you should)

so come round call your friends
and well open up the car
if you remember where it is
and when it�s aiming where to go
we can look down at the road
then we'll both know

hiding from your friends
all the things that make you love them
waking up again
yeah I got dreams but I forget them

hiding from your friends
all the reasons why you want them
pretty darling says
yeah I got dreams but I forget them
so let's never sleep again

http://www.deloris.com.au/words.html