christopherowen.au/blog

In hindsight, I guess it had to happen. You will be able to attribute the lateness and terseness of this post to the simple fact that Microsoft Windows — even in it’s XP incarnation — will invariably pack it in at some point in time. That point for me was yesterday, although the decline in the quality of the installation could possibly be tracked back a few months; yesterday was the definite crunch-time in the grand scheme of things whereby my PC performed the following amazing feats:

1. Failed to recognise any of my external peripherals.
2. Decided that it didn’t like the PCI-bus slot that my network adaptor was located in.
3. Generally spat the dummy at any recovery effort I attempted.

In light of this stupid turn of events, I anticipate the initiation of, the oft enjoyed: Festival of the Re-Install. This event — in the bad old days of Windows 9x — was usually observed at least twice a year; with Windows XP, I have managed to put off celebrating this event for one whole orbit of the sun.

I will endeavour to have a normal post up by this Thursday — I did have so much to tell you.

This post will probably be most renown for it’s brevity than anything else. Events have conspired against me in having any significant amount of time to write about anything of an important — some may say interesting — nature. This was bound to happen. If you had given me any kind of odds for not keeping to this routine I have laid out for myself with regard to making words appear here, I would have deposited all of my earthly — and some of my more ethereal — possessions on it. As it turns out this would have probably been a bad idea as I ran into some Middle Eastern dictator and just had to show you the proof. You can’t say I don’t treat you right. In fact, you can’t say anything; you are just a text editor.

What I may decide to do in the interim is briefly discuss a musical acquisition I made not more than two days ago. I had wandered into the local K-Mart, as is my wont, and experienced the usual, inexorable compulsion to make a bee-line for the section designated The Audio-Visual Department. I am quite convinced — and a recent experiment supports this theory — that I would be able to walk into any K-Mart or related department store and, even while blindfolded, intoxicated and bleeding to death, be able to locate this section of the store. It is always at the rear of the store and has an extremely high probability of being in the rear right corner. A friend of mine tried to tell me that this was a deliberate measure taken by the store designers so that if some bad man wanted to come in and perhaps avail himself of something expensive within the department without paying for it, said man would have to navigate the labyrinth of aisles, furniture displays and five-year-old kids piloting tiny, annoying trolleys with big balls on the end of long antenna like protrusions — sorry, too descriptive? — before he could escape the clutches of the ever vigilant shop security. While this reason is totally plausible, I believe — being the highly cynical creature that I am — that the true purpose behind this seemingly inherent attribute of department stores is much more sinister. I am of the opinion that most people who visit the The Audio-Visual department pretty much know what the hell they want before they even enter. This kind of prescience empowers the shopper with the ability to perform a rapid, clean and surgical commercial expedition. However, this is exactly the kind of behaviour that department store operators lobby governments to prohibit. It deprives them of the opportunity of pressing upon you the multitude of other, nefariously useful wares that they peddle. So to counteract this undesirable situation they force you to travel through eighty per-cent of the building, just in case you decide that you really would like to get some photographs developed right now. You know I am right.

By now you have probably just experienced my first major digression on this site and alas, it is highly unlikely to be my last. What I really wanted to tell you was just how good the new Zwan album, “Mary Star of the Sea”, is. Zwan is a relatively new quintet composed of band members from numerous other high-profile outfits; most notably Billy Corgan and Jimmy Chamberlin from the now defunct Chicago grunge group The Smashing Pumpkins. My first contact with Zwan had been through the single “Honestly” which has been given a bit of airtime of late on Triple J and was featured at number eight on that station’s Net 50 weekly broadcast. I liked this song, although most of my happiness lay in the fact that Billy was back writing songs and singing them as only he can. Let me tell you now that this track sounds a lot better on the album. It really leaps out at you with near infinite clarity in a perfect mix of bass and treble. In fact, the whole album has this quality about it; along with the other characteristic of sounding loud at any volume level (something Billy Corgan has said he aimed for while producing the recording). Other tracks that I am really besotted with at the moment are: “Lyric”, “Ride a Black Swan” and “Yeah!”. Needless to say, I am really excited about the future of this band and I wish them every success in their endeavours.

By now I think the title of this post may have been pushed into the lesser misnomer category. I will leave it there however for posterity’s sake. And no, I didn’t mean for the benefit of your behind.

Thursday has become the night to fire arrows at pictures of seemingly innocent animals perversely on display some fifteen metres away. Do not ask me what it is, exactly, that the animals have ever done to me, or anyone else for that matter, but such is the atmosphere at the archery range; there is an undertone that whatever gets a pointed shaft in it at the opposite end has wholeheartedly deserved it.

Some gentlemen next to me quipped that it would have been good to start up some sort of terrorist cell right then and there. I thought about this for approximately two seconds before I realised that, indeed, the only thing that I would be able to terrorise would be large wool bails with paper targets on them. Even then, the wool bail would soon discover that if it covered it’s entire surface with a paper target it would be perfectly safe from me. It is not too hard to imagine though that there is some barn with a broad-side that just broke a slight sweat at the thought of me using my marksmanship skills for evil, although I admit, it would have to have a decidedly big broad-side.

I presume that the afore mentioned archer with aspirations of martyrdom expects anti-terrorist agencies would perhaps target weapons of a slightly less primitive nature than that of the humble bow and arrow. Although, after seeing what some of the models on display do to their intended targets when wielded by people of a significantly higher calibre than myself, I would be delighted if the UN weapon inspectors would include compound-bows on their list of prohibited weapons in Iraq, lest one of those rumoured practitioners of terror put me on their list of important international targets. It’s not hard to believe that they would have reason to be annoyed at a Greek, considering that we are responsible for this whole western civilization thing.

Speaking of such matters, this week my in-box spawned some recently unclassified intelligence images which appear to me to be straight off the desk of some nameless official at the Pentagon. Whilst most people would consider the content of these photos to be quite damning, I thought that there was something not quite right about them. So being the free-thinking individual that I am, during a recent sojourn in the Middle East, I took the opportunity to have a brief walk through an unusually lush area of the Jordan–Iraq border to investigate the situation for myself. What I found there was, to grossly under-exaggerate, disturbing. I only managed to take a depressingly few images before I was forced to flee — I certainly wasn’t expecting to bump into the man himself.

Now I really know that the world has been far too optimistic in their dealings with Saddam, for he has a truly spectacular arsenal — just ask any Italian plumber.

Welcome to my new web log! How are you gentlemen?!

If you understand the connotations behind that opening statement then this probably means that you may find something interesting to read at some eventual point in time at this very locality. I however will reserve my immunity from being called deceitful if this quasi–fact never eventuates. If, alternatively, you replied, I am quite well thank–you–very–much–for–asking, don’t despair, your incomprehension isn’t terminal.

I am really unsure where this sudden urge has arisen from to start this, dare I say it, cyber–journal, which I am fully aware comes burdened with the potential pit fall of revealing a little too much about my nature to the unwashed masses — those grey, nameless souls known as the denizens of the ‘net. Yes, this includes you. Perhaps it is the fact that I have just recently graduated and am anticipating that seemingly impossible possibility that I will now be able to claim that I have far too much time on my hands. Let me tell you that this is an absurdly scary realisation for anyone who has undertaken a university degree and worked full-time whilst trying to maintain any semblance of an active, normal life. I will also admit that this style of communication has a certain degree of attraction simply because, unlike email, it is based on a pull model rather than a push. For those of you who just had that giant, irresistible question mark bloom above your heads, don’t worry, it really isn’t that important. This is probably, on the other hand, an important datum to remember with regard to anything that you may read here at all. Certainly, if this axiom doesn’t apply to something, I will be sure to let you know.

I am also under no delusion that my invocation of the, often quoted, ‘c’ word in the opening of the previous paragraph hasn’t lost me points with those of you who are more technically inclined — it just seemed oddly appropriate. This enlightened state also extends to the realisation that I will not have a positive score in this respect, ever. It is also for this reason, coupled with my delicate ego, that I am treating this whole affair much like a game of golf. I will capitulate and let you decide what is par for the course — just be sure not to tell me.

To give you some idea on just what sort of inane babble you can expect to be assaulted by here, I have compiled a list of topics which are likely to be featured. You may, by some fate, be familiar with some.

• Electronic gaming – particularly anything Nintendo, PC or retro
• Computer technology – Something that surrounds me every day at work and play
• Science – Mankind’s greatest achievement
• Politics – I promise not too much
• Sports – Particularly those that are obscure and / or Australian
• Life, the Multiverse and Everything – Yes, I am getting more philosophical in my old young–age
• General absurdity – You’ll know it when you see it

I think you get the picture.

Posts will be made bi–weekly on Thursday and Sunday, a bold statement to be sure.

To my friends and acquaintances, I hope you won’t hold this against me. To those who were unfortunate enough to stumble upon this page by whim or other divine intervention, I hope you can find your way out again, that is unless of course, you want to stay. To everybody else — what are you?