Yersternight we dreamt that we were attending a very strange learning instution. The outside court was set up like a labyrinth, with lockers for walls. Some of the lockers would open up to a new sections of the labyrinth -- it seems that there was a colour code of some sort, as each locker was painted bright red, yellow or blue.
The older students would not help the freshmen, so we were very confused as to how to get to class. We decided to climb on top of the lockers and walk on the walls to the centre -- something which the older students vociferously disapproved.
When we made it to the main building we met the same kind of puzzle: row upon row of brightly-colou
Last night I dreamt that I was part of a secret organization in charge of infiltrating a totalitarian regime somewhere in Asia. My partner (a tall, seductive, black-leather-
We obtained the desired information from the bureaucrat. He had just opened the door for us to leave when he noticed the corridor was gone. He seemed rather disturbed by this. He went into the space that should have been the corridor, & I began to see from his perspective. It was an empty square room with mouldy, dilapidated walls. On the wall opposite to the door hung a faded photograph of the bureaucrat & Mao Tse tung. The bureaucrat looked up, & there was a hole in the ceiling -- more like a tunnel in fact, filled with important and confidential-l
My partner also went into the space, & I began to see from her perspective as well. She landed in an eighties' kitchen & met an Asian equivalent of Martha Stewart who was happily chopping vegetables. She was absolutely horrified to see this, despite the Asian Martha Stewart's politeness.
Then I decided I'd rather wake up than go into that room.
Recently I dreamt that a radical student organization staged a coup and "liberated" my university. The campus turned into a commune where a kind of anarchistic economy of knowledge ruled. Teachers were still welcome to give lectures, but credits were abolished. The radicals also began to teach what they knew, like anarchist microeconomics
I continued to attend school as though nothing happened, even though there were spontaneous theatrical productions and interpretative dance shows. The army came and the teaching kept on going in the face of tremendous repression -- I was even conned into giving a lecture on demonology to an auditorium gradually filling with teargas. Despite the State's best efforts, the security perimeter around the campus was constantly breached and "teaching" persisted. Even some of the old teachers and staff still went to school whenever they could sneak in.
University. Guerrilla style.
This morning, Aeolus -- or is it Tempestas? -- decided to bombard us with... SNOW. Again.
The French saying "En avril, ne te découvre pas d'un fil" remains true, even though its consequent ("En mai, fais ce qu'il te plaît") doesn't really rhyme.
From the Basement -- Down Is The New Up
Lately, we have been in a very Placebo sort of mood
(although, we don't feel particularly emo or bisexual).
The Bitter End
But this one is our favourite, oddly enough:
My Sweet Prince
(there's something to be said about the second gay love song to make it into the charts).
This is the kind of evening when we wish Sheol could open as it did for the Korahites.
It turns out Nerdism is a religion:
This is a winter like we remember them as a child: larger & whiter than is conceivable, & unspeakably cold. It is winter even in the minutest detail -- down to the cristalline formation of snowflakes & the striated arrangement of snowbanks.
Yes,this winter is unmistakeably wintry -- though an unpoetic soul might find this statement tautological, it nevertheless carries myriad implications.
We wish we could write on top of our presentation page:
"This house may contain artistic nerdity. Do not look if it offends you."
Yesternight we had a rather peculiar dream.
Our mother was driving our sister & ourself to Montreal, where we were supposed to go to an amusement park. Somewhere along the way we got separated & wandered in a touristy shopping district, & all of a sudden all our friends were there. We were just about to buy expensive exported jewelry made from nuts when the clerk said they were about to close. It was taking us forever to count our change, so the clerk eventually got tired & asked us to take care of the transaction ourself, entrusting us with the cash register & even leaving the shop & turning off the lights on his way out. Somewhere along the line our friends thought it was a good idea to leave an art piece in the store, so we plastered the walls with comic book pages with empty speech bubbles. We proceeded to fill the speech bubbles then & there, & then ran in the rain after the shop clerk & assistants, for no apparent reason.
I'd like to see Freud deal with this one.
Misreading Psalms can be (somewhat) funny.
Psalm 119:153, as misread by Ha[Mekashef]:
"Behold my affliction and deliver me,
for I do not forget your claw."
Yesterday night was one of the most interesting concerts to have come to Bandeen Hall. Pieces by several local composers were performed, & if we can find any information on said composers we will likely post it here.
Tonight Doppelgänger Effekt won a (rather low-profile) battle of the bands.
Recording time! Yippee!
Deep inside, you know you want to take our poll.
Stolen from [Adaman]'s diary, here are our superhero scores:
Green Lantern 80%
&, more importantly, our villain scores:
The Joker 64%
Poison Ivy 59%
Dark Phoenix 56%
Green Goblin 46%
Pity. we would have liked to be the Green Goblin. Oh well.
Stolen from [Sunrose], excerpted from a longish survey:
2. You are the first to arrive at the scene of an accident but it turns out that the person hurt is your worst enemy, do you help or walk away?
This almost happened to us. It was an interesting experience; it made us realize that the moral imperative to assist a fellow human takes absolutely nothing away from the feelings of resentment one might have towards a person.
Ultimately we found ourselves doing the right thing for purely deontological reasons. It was extremely painful, but not difficult. It was like surviving a grave illness. When an organism becomes sick, it does not choose between getting better or dying: it puts all its energy on survival. Likewise when a situation presents itself where the life & well-being of another is at stake, the necessity to act morally is no less obvious than gravity. It's not a matter of virtue or compassion; there is no ambiguity -- moral action falls as a matter of course.
Which brings us to think that people who affect others at the fundamental level of life & personaly integrity -- through immoral action or moral inaction (the two are equivalent) -- are not breaking a spiritual law. They are taking liberties with human nature, with the very basis of human understanding. In doing so they risk more than punishment in the hereafter -- they subject themselves, not the to flimsy bogeymen of religion, but to indomitable psychic confusion, & losing their references in proper behaviour they become non-human.
So today we tried very hard to listen to a broadcast of a Pierre Lapointe concert.
For those who don't know (we suppose there should be many out there) Pierre Lapointe is the latest thing in Québec. Critics all agree he is an excellent songwriter, & it just so happens that even the masses like him. We hope our fellow countrymen don't drive this one to suicide.
We say "tried to listen" because we got several phone calls during the aforementionne
The answer to the above is "not", & it came right after the credits, in the form of yet another insipid teen-reality show. We cannot as yet understand how the industry continues to produce such bland, contemptible & unintelligent nonsense.
Another thing we cannot understand is the Internauts' tendency to taunt their fellows. We have witnessed so much gratuitous hate on YouTube we are gradually becoming disgusted with the media. Where is the fun in verbally abusing a stranger whose only crime is to have produced a film you are not even obligated to watch? If your aesthetic ideals are so important & you must take offence, trash the work, not the author!
This planet is depressing.
Happy 5th Day of Hanukkah!
A truncated version of this has entered the Christmas Poetry Competition: