I am not well. At all. E-sympathy would be delightful.

I am fatigued. A deep, soul-stumbling fatigue. I am too tired to deliver a plethora of amusing lines and linkies. I am too tired, full stop.

Last night the posse and I went gothing. I won a CD by a group named Funker Vogt - wait, hang on, that link won't do you any good unless you speak German. Try the English fan site instead. I won this CD by dancing very well, apparently. Apart from that, the night was still fantastic, and even the rain on the walk home couldn't dampen my spirits.

The early start with hangover the next morning could certainly do it, though. And the seven straight hours of work (cleaner at my college) merely compounded the problem. Legs already worn out by dancing have been stretched to a new level by stairs and corridors. I feel a heavy fatigue I have not felt in a long time (since the old glory days of slumber parties and netball).

In any case, the working state of affairs will likely continue for some time yet, so don't expect heaps of posts from me in the next week.

Went out last night. Won a CD. Had a blast. Had to get up early to work. Feel awful. Details later.

Dammit. I'm only 56% insane. I'll just have to try harder in future. [Thanks to Zannah]

As part of my ongoing quest to bring you the best and strangest, I present: The Peculiar Art of Mr. Frahm. A wonderful showcase of one of the most indecipherable artists ever to grace the canvas. View and be flabberghasted. And thoroughly amused.

I love reading the New Zealander. It's a newspaper for NZ ex-pats living in Australia, and it has the bizarrest news items ever seen. I'm not sure whether this is actually all the newsworthy events happening in NZ, or if they're actally trying to be amusing. They certainly manage it. Today's gem was a page 2 article about how four female students from Massey University are apparently selling their used underwear on the internet to help pay for their education. As a diligent blogger, I have of course been trying to get a visual on the site in question, but haven't had any luck thus far (but have had an eye-opening experience typing "massey university panties" into a search engine).

Official reactions to the actions of these first-year students ranged from the SA president's disgusted and vitriolic attack on the actions as being bad for women's lib and whatnot, to the national Rape Crisis spokeswoman declaring that the girls were entrepeneurs and good on them, considering how long it usually took women to pay off their university debt.

Personally, I agree with the latter opinion. Good on them. Absolutely.

I've done it! (Well, clean it up.) I have forked out the dosh and got my own domain. The registration all went through today and viscerate.com should be up and running very, very shortly (read, two or three days). In the meantime, I shall continue my merry exploits here at visage.cx (hey, I'll be neighbours when I move out!). And I'll give notice when I leave.

Someone once told me that included somewhere in Kurt Cobain's suicide note was the phrase: "It's better to burn out than to fade away." This vaguely bothered me, nibbling away at the back of consciousness until I suddenly realised where I'd heard it before. Highlander - the movie, NOT the series - when the Kurgan and Campbell are talking in a church, and as the Kurgan leaves the church, he shouts out: "It's better to burn out than to fade away!" Interesting, considering the respective dates. Quotation or merely echoing sentiment without knowledge of plagiarisation? Answers on the back of a postcard.

Finally, after weeks of waiting, I made it to see Mission: Impossible II as a post-exam treat with K^r. It was a whole heap of fun, I mean serious fun. The kick-ass John Woo factor should not be overestimated - some parts simply reek of his influence (in a good way). There were other parts where Tom Cruise's character is simply too cool for words.

However, fun as it was, I was not a large fan of the storyline. I infinitely prefer the subtler, more involved premise of the first movie. Yet Woo himself said that was something he specifically didn't like. Interesting. It's just that the first storyline was so much more challenging. The second one is straightforward action-wise, but more involved emotion-wise. Yet still not emotionally deep enough to sustain interest in that area.

Still, I liked it. It's fun. I give it a thumbs up.

I love anything that tells me my "new magickal name" is Frolicking Beach Ball. Yeah baby! [Thanks to Firda]

Chris @ BoyLOG asks, well, repeats someone else's question of: "Why do you keep a weblog?" I think it is a pertinent question, and I suspect that a lot of the time the truthful answer would be: "Because a lot of cool people do it." (We've talked about my cynicism before.)

For me, if I'm being entirely honest, that is at least partly the answer. I started doing it because I saw a lot of cool blogs, and I wanted to have a go. But once I started... it felt right. (That sounds so cheezy!) It's an excellent way for me to express myself. I can slot everything in here. I can be as flippant or as meaningful as I like. It's an eclectic medium for an eclectic person.

So I guess I keep my blog because it's the best way I've found of expressing myself online. And it's fun, fun, FUN! :-)

Blogging waaaaay too much today. I'm going to shut up and do something more productive. Like writing. See you all (all? peers into the auditorium) tomorrow.

My new, fantastic find. Someone I once met who was brilliant then, and is brilliant now. Australians! We rule! Visit Lizz at gallia.org.

Meanwhile, someone at rainy.net is having a whinge about "isfuckingbrilliant". Personally, I think petty whinging is something that really fucking sucks. But I'm prepared to be flexible on this one.

Always good for a laugh are the Letters From The Disgruntled at the Canadian World Domination webpage. A magnificent showcase of staggering stupidity.

Get ready for the colour of the future! It's Squant!

I am fighting a losing battle against the internal pressure to get my own domain. Why am I fighting? It's not that I can't afford it. It's that I don't want to get a domain just to have nothing (or very little) on it. But I don't want to scrounge 'content' out of nothing just to have it there. So I've been surfing other domains, both of the blogging and teengirl persuasion, waiting for inspiration to strike. It hasn't. I have come across domains with little content but webrings. I have seen writing sections aplenty, but that is what eXx is for, and I state once and forever that I will not put my writing on the internet (it counts as publishing, editors can't buy first serial rights, and I mainly write for publishing). So what am I to do?

PS: I found a domain I used to love but haven't heard from in ages: swansongs.net.

I spent this afternoon wrestling with random Americans on AOL IM. I wanted to be writing, but instead I end up explaining to someone why opening a conversation with, "You suck" is not the nice thing to do. I get warned up to 35% by someone else. And people wonder why I never turn the blasted contraption on. I only had it on this afternoon because I was hoping A might have a minute to talk to me. Honestly, what is wrong with people? Why is politeness so disregarded? How much do I sound like my mother??

Insanity is merely a sane response to an insane situation. (paraphrased from David Mack's Kabuki.)

Read this and laugh. I did. (Probably helps if you're a Star Wars junkie like me.)

Another one bites the dust? I'm very sad to see Tarsh go. He was one of the first blogs that inspired me. I know he was the first one that I looked at and went... "Hey wow. I want to be a part of this."

So, I wish him all the best for the future. I hope he gets his house. I hope he flourishes.

I am not in the habit of blogging porn. This site seems slightly more innocent than the average. And what can I say? It made me laugh like nothing has today. So if you want a laugh too, go to see the ladies in leg casts.

I just watched the first episode of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice, the BBC series. Tempted as I was to watch the entire thing, I simply feel wrong about donating a solid six-hour block of my life to watching TV. Six hours spread out is, of course, fine. I am not a hypocrite, just irrational.

Sorry the previous entry had no comments attached, but I had just typed that sentence when a friend came in, screaming, "Gossip! Gossip!" and dragged me away, leaving me only enough time to hit "Post and publish" with my big toe. Now I find that my sentiments when exposed to that link are precisely summed up by the three incredulous question marks following my statement. Some things can only be expressed in punctuation.

This is a school???

Send me a monkey and I'll send you one.

Why do I have such a tendency to like blogs by guys so much more than blogs by girls?

Asking the tough, incisive questions this morning, aren't I? I think I need a shower. Maybe I was a mermaid in a past life. Water always makes me feel better.

So it's starting again, the event that is Wimbledon. Actually, that's a dull link. How about this one instead.

In any case, there will shortly be tennis. We were going through the draw at breakfast this morning, and bitching about the female players. No one seems to like Mary Pierce. The overall opinion was that she's "arrogant". On the other hand, we all liked Lindsay Davenport. I have to say she's my favourite. I have a lot of respect for her. It seems to me that she's the only one who's out there to play tennis, not to look pretty. Anna Kournikova can bite me.

I have declared I will write tonight. I should be writing right now. Email me and tell me to stop playing Puzzle Bobble and get writing.

So we're walking through the mall today, and there's this guy ahead of us. He's wearing a suit, and carrying a Sanity bag, and walking with a swing... one-two-one-two... like it's in time to the beat. His head's high, his back straight. I half-expect him to suddenly burst into song. A sort of strident, masculine song like "New York, New York". But he doesn't. Instead he turns around and looks at me, as if he could read my thoughts, then we go down the escalator.

State: Tired but satisfied after an afternoon of post-exam retail therapy. I bought the most beautiful velvet coat/shirt thing with lace hems... just beautiful. Which inspired the Search of the Day.

Search: velvet

Result: After wading through fifteen million "Velvet Goldmine" links, I finally find
ACTIVE LIFE INC. - Active Velvet™ Deer Antler. You want me to ingest what now? Do people simply take this stuff on the word of the supposed experts? Well, do let us read the fine print: "The Food and Drug Administration has not evaluated these statements. This product is not intended to diagnose, treat, cure or prevent disease." Hmmm...

So it's small and silly, but... well, it's small and silly. And we all need some of these sorts of things in our lives now and then, don't we? Chemical Analysis - Wo.

... wonders if this is something worthy of aspiring to...

The rules of campus-wide hide-and-seek:

1: The Seeker shall count to thirty in a toilet cubicle of their choice. They may pass the time by reading the graffiti.

2: Hiders should feel no compulsion about staying in the one hiding place. Variety is the spice of life.

3: Due to the difficulty in distinguishing players from innocent bystanders, all Hiders must be naked. The Seeker may wear clothes.

4: Safe zones are restricted to inside the library, on top of the Chancelry or in police custody.

5: All Hiders caught engaging in sexual activity will be banned from the game.

I demand email. Please? I know people visit, but they never say anything. I feel like I'm standing on the edge of a highway, holding up a placard with my thoughts on it, and no one stops. Or even waves. And it's dark. And raining. No, snowing. It's damn snowing!

Enough melodrama. Topics for your email? Life, love, grapes, Turkish coffee, apathy, my favourite band, your favourite band, that guy sitting over there in the computer lab.

Anything. Please, just email me.

State: Ecstatic and somewhere between exhaustion and hyperactivity due to end of exams.

Search: purple monkey dishwasher

Result: Purple Monkey Dishwasher Zine. Feeling nostalgic for the good old days of first year when J² made me do searches like this one, I do this one. I find a worthy site, mainly worthy because it is Australian, but also because it is the sort of random Australian junk that everyone should be exposed to, even if only briefly and requiring medication post-exposure. More junk for your buck. Or something. I'm going for a long post-exam sleep now. More tomorrow. Scout's honour.

Excuse me for a moment...

EXAMS ARE OVER!!!!!

Ahem. Right. Now that I'm finished yelling about that, I can yell about something else: We're finally going to meet Chris' babe! I don't know how he managed to get me so enthralled in his life in barely 48 hours as to be cheering about this, but I am.

In the meantime, I have to get ready for a date with A. This will be our (counts on fingers) fourth date. And we've been together for almost two years (on and off, mostly on). Are we slack people or what? He's slept over three nights this week, but we've only ever been out on four dates.

Ah, romance is alive and flourishing...

Fantastic. I finally update to IE5 and the first thing it does is completely lock me out of the internet. I expend ten minutes and two friends trying to figure out what it's fucked up in my proxy settings. When J² sorts it out, and I happily hit google, he then *tsks* and says: "You know this program has given me and J¹ nothing but trouble. IE5 is eeeeevil."

Fantastic.

Can't you tell I have an exam tomorrow from the number of entries there have been already today? One more, because it's just gotta be here. Everyone go and assist Walter's Special Mission. Ignore the colour scheme. Have a good laugh.

State: I have a cold and only three tissues. Not a good combination.
Search: mucus
Result: Beakman & Jax - Snot: The marvellous ways of getting children interested in science naturally include teaching them how to make fake snot. Thank God I don't do to primary school any more, is all I can say.

Oh this is just pure class. Get down with Paul, because he says: "I can Dance if I want to!" More fun than children our age should be allowed to have. I can't praise this place enough. Just go already.

Am I required to create as intense, as delicately crafted, an outpouring of personal emotion as exhibited elsewhere? As much as I admire these people, I know I cannot emulate them. I cannot lay my deepest feelings in verbose eloquence at the feet of random net-wanderers. Am I lacking? And if so, where? In the desire to spend so long constructing my sentences as to turn them into works of art merely as a result of such consideration? In the will to bare my soul of all its fairy-floss strands? In the ability to report on anything interesting that actually happens to me?

Life goes on. I float along. And the band played 'Waltzing Matilda'.

Fickle am I. Yea verily, and procrastinating also. For behold, this is another design alteration in barely a sennight.

The last design delighted me little. I had the bare bones of this design and reorder lying around, and after emailing the talented (and spunky) Chris at boylog.com, I decided I was going to finish it off and plaster it onto the internet. Attribute all bugs to that, and please let me know. eXx is still there - click on the link to the left. Cheers, big ears.

Search of the day: goblin
Results:

Christina Rossetti (1830-1894) - Goblin Market: Morning and evening/Maids heard the goblins cry/"Come buy our orchard fruits/Come buy, come buy." Fantastic and inspiring opening right there. I recall the author's name from another time, and I rummage through my poetry notebook until I find the source of my memory: "Remember" by the same author, finishing with the more traditionally soul-stirring: Better by far you should forget and smile/Than that you should remember and be sad.

Orange Goblin: The marginally psychedelic site of a British band whose members are... well... "five ardent fans of Doom Rock and Metal [who] got together to play their music the way it should be played.... under the influence!!!" I'll say no more.

Goblin Shark, Mitsukurina owstoni: Large and scary fish-type things. Just when you thought it was safe to go back in the water... It's a pretty colour, though.

Today I go looking for a personality horoscope, because it's been a while since I saw what anyone had to say about me. Usually they're fairly right. I'm such a Gemini.

This is basically the only one I could find. Everything I netted on my search was daily horoscopes, which I think bite the big one. Howevever, this one was, as per usual, fairly spot on. So anyone who wants to know about lil old me, take a look.

Yikes! Look out, it's David Bowie's CROTCH! You really have to wonder about someone who suggests the world may, in fact, merely be encompassed in David Bowie's 'area'. But hey, I've heard crazier notions.

Yes, actually, I have, and you don't want to know about them.

Because it's so much fun to do this sort of thing, I've decided to make it a daily event, expanding my horizons and yours. So I present to you:

Search of the day: eviscerate

Results:

How to Eviscerate a Magic Player: First, Are You Worthy?: I have had many friends who play Magic: The Gathering. This is a highly amusing article on how you should approach your Magic game. I have to say, this fellow seems to have a one-track mind.

Fight! Score! Win! Eviscerate!: a page which seems to be photographs devoted to various footballing things. Here for sheer randomness value.

Kill the Ewok!: You cruel bastards. I bet you laughed when they got killed in the re-release of Return of the Jedi too. Well, they'll have their revenge. They'll grow up to be Wookiees!

Reason: procrastination. State: pissed off. Why? Because I just got my review from chocolate. Reviews like this make me angry.

Reviewers problem #1: I "whinged" about not having had my review done in their guestbook. Well, I know that it's been at least a month and a half since I submitted for that review. I've been through three design changes in that time. The review site itself has been through two. They can redesign twice, but they don't have time to do my review? Obviously I misinterpreted the point of this site.

Reviewers problem #2: I am a "review whore". Apparently all she thinks reviews are for is free publicity. I apply for reviews because no one ever tells me what they think of my site. Besides, if she'd actually reviewed my site when I submitted it, the situation might have been different.

Reviewers problem #3: I apparently did the site for me and only for me. The wench obviously didn't read the note that she says she's quoting it from, since that note specifically states: "I'm not doing this for me... This is for you." I say later that "It might be for you, but it is by me", but I hardly thing that's the same thing.

The whole thing is simply so shallow, it makes me gasp. I ask again, why am I here?

Point: Don't go to Chocolate if you want a review. They bite.

In desperate search of today's strange blog entry (can't go the normal thing, you know, the High Priest would have me disbarred), I am reduced to searching the internet for references to the place where A and I just went for a drink. It's called All Bar Nun, and it has pictures of nuns playing various forms of Australian sport on the wall. It serves Guiness and Coopers. It's really not my kind of place. But it's a very A kind of place, I guess. In any case, my search revealed:

- Bar Nun: featuring in the Washington Post, a bar I suspect a friend of mine may have told me about previously, but I can't think why she would have done this.

- bound.org: promising to be "A global fetish promotional group which hosts a number of weekly parties in cities around the world." However, the page was taking until next Thursday to load, so I didn't stick around to see how or even if they lived up to this.

- WENN Morning prep sample: which appears to be an interesting sample of absurd news snippets. I knew something useful would come of this search.

R and I met at the start of our first year of uni, and have lived within ten metres of each other for the past three years. We are similar people who interact in interesting ways. We entertain each other, without requiring anything from each other. But I think we both know that if necessary, we would put out the effort for the other. As he said: "We have a special sort of relationship, don't we?" But in all seriousness, every relationship is special. Every one is unique. Each is worth saving for something, and every so often I mourn the day that will take him out of my life.

But in the meantime, I go over the emails he sent me last year and I find this link from the height of our Internet Bizarrity competition. When I went the first time, this page had a white background and blue-ish highlights. Now it looks almost satanic. But still, the old ones are the best. Thanks R.

I'm not usually the one to jump up and down on a little light fantasy. Heck, I write the damn stuff. But I'm afraid I'm simply too old, or too cynical, or too something to give vent to the requisite "Awww" when I see something like this.

Unfortunately, Kill Yr Weblog has gone boom. This is extremely sad, and I'm going to see if I can't appeal the decision. But in the meantime, there's a very interesting thing there called The "Kill Your Weblog" Test. I scored 52%. How about you?

Let's get one thing straight here: I don't do the everyday thing. So many blogs you visit now have a list of bookmarked blogs longer than the actual blog entry list. No. I browse, I cruise, I maybe come back now and then to see if things still exist, but mostly I'm a net-nomad. Except when it comes to one site. I don't know what it is about maura dot com that has me constantly coming back. Surely it has something to do with the way she takes her everyday life and adds a hint of mystery, a little of that something that makes me read fantasy. She turns the norm through 90 degrees. She is, I think, my idol.

A truly worthy and noble idea: Haiku the Blog gets my award for the most ingenious site I've seen all day. Possibly even all week.

I glory in being Australian when I come across sites like Kill Yr Blog. The outing of stupidity is a noble and worthy cause, and the fact that some morons seem to think this is merely another teen-girl thing compounds my distaste. What am I doing here?

Topic of this morning's musings: Faith Healing. I have to say I believe in them. Not that God, or whichever Divine being you happen to believe in is actually healing this person (since the Divine I believe in is not interventionist in any way), but that the person's faith is healing them.

Belief is an amazingly powerful thing. I believe, therefore I am. Using this theory, it is entirely possible that you could believe yourself out of existence. Although the paradox involved...

...is simply too much for a sunny Wednesday morning. I'l think about it tomorrow.

Yeah yeah yeah, I'm getting all mushy or something. I just know I want to dedicate this entry to my friends. We're a great bunch who fit together well. Tonight, we played Netball, which apparently is not something that is known in America, although the person who told me this also told me that the word fortnight wasn't used in America. I don't think he's pulling my leg, so he must just be strange.

But earlier today, we spent time considering getting a domain of our own, to perpetrate insanity in the grand spirit of places like Temple ov thee Lemur. I suggested room358.com, since that's my room number, and the scene of most madness. However, the end votes were split between fascistelbow.org and antipanty.com. Can you believe someone has paid good money for antipanti.com? Neither could we.

So, I've just finished reading the first fantasy-fiction attempt by a friend. It's obviously his first attempt. But this isn't the place to discuss his plot motivation, or character concepts, or maturity of writing. It's just that this is the thing that got me thinking about the eternal quest of the writer, to be 'better'. There are so many interesting things to read out there. But, and I know I'm parroting all my favourite authors here, the only things that will really help you improve is to write. And write, and write, and write.

I spend far too long playing this game.

All hail imdb.com. I have nothing but delighted awe for a site at which I can unearth "memorable quotes" from a movie called: Zombi Holocaust.

I saw Mystery Men last night, which reinforced my respect for Janeane Garofalo. Ben Stiller also managed to garner a grain of grudging good wishes (oh my DOUG, the alliteration fairy strikes again). Mainly, it was fun. Silly - overly so in some parts - and childish - ditto - but fun. I spent most of the movie trying to figure out where I'd seen the girl who plays Stiller's love interest (Claire Forlani) before. It was, of course, as Brandi in the fantastic Mallrats. Kevin Smith is divine.

One wonders what a quote from the inestimable Lord Salisbury is doing on a site apparently devoted to the exciting and stimulating topic of dental law (or some such nonsense). I have a take-home exam this weekend including this quotation, and how it pertains to the current international political-strategic situation. Do you think that's slightly more interesting than teeth?

So do I.

I'm listening to one of the most amazing mp3s that has ever drifted into my possession - a delightful live rendition of "Tainted Love" by The Living End. It's really quite something. Something indeed. While I am struggling with this aural sensation, my eyes are finding no problems at all with snarg.net, a site which may just be the most amazing visual experience I've ever been on. Usually, upon encountering clever coding, I am filled with an intense desire to replicate, and then to improve, extend, increase... I like to think I can see the possibilities and new and unusual ways of utilising them. However, snarg.net leaves my brain merely simmering with the brilliance I have just witnessed. I am mentally speechless, but damn it was fun!

You know, if this guy had anything more interesting to talk about than the same eighteen things that everyone with two brain cells to rub together bitches about, I might actually have some respect for him. Well, I'm assuming it's a him. I'm not entirely sure why. In any case, I get the same feeling from the petty whinges that you get from that plastic slice of cheese wilting on your hamburger. What's really sad is that he/she/it/they probably think they're being so cleverly caustic as well.

So if I actually had done as I was going to do and pick a teen domain at random off the Way2Kewl.com teen domain listing, I would have ended up at shortcake.net. But the domain listed above it, namely //SHEPAINTEDGOD just sounded so much more interesting. Moral of the story: Make sure your domain name is evocative, or at least unusual, for heaven's sake!

I wonder why I'm doing this, since my apathy for the whole teen-scene is such that it quite easily boils over into full-blown antipathy. It's simply so big, but I can stick my head in the sand and declare I don't see it, so it doesn't exist. Right?

I'm here because (I'm here because I'm here because I'm here - Aussie joke, I think) I love webdesign, like to write, enjoy some people and elements of this little web world. But sometimes it chokes me. How can something so big be so inhibiting? It's like high school all over again, and I'm too old for that. Why can't the scene just grow up, and be like university already?

What does the Mission Statement of BLTC Research have to do with a site entitled I Love leather Pants !? You might very well ask. The answer is NOTHING, apart from the fact I managed to pull up these sites at the same time in different windows. A wonder of the internet, don't you think?

The former site waxes rhapsodic about the joys of futuristic bio-science, which can make us "smarter, happier - and nicer". They also claim to be able to remove pain altogether. And meanwhile, the ever-delightful Man in Black from The Princess Bride declares: "Life is pain, highness! Anyone who says differently is selling something."

Meanwhile, the latter site becomes frighteningly thrilled with discussions of leather pants. It claims to have been visited over 70,000 times, and the guestbook holds a melange of appreciative, derogatory and piss-taking remarks. Much as I like my leather pants (and skirt, and jacket, and...) I know when I'm outclassed. I think I'll go back to bltc.net and "be animated by gradients of ecstatic well-being beyond the bounds of normal human experience". There's a party in my pants and you're all invited!

Hey, whaddya know, it's official: the new Anakin Skywalker has been chosen. Son of the Force, father of Luke, Hayden Christensen gets to live all his childhood fantasies by wielding a lightsaber and using the Force. Cool!

Of slightly over the age to be a rabid Star Wars fanatic, I'm holding high, high hopes for the rest of the prequel trilogy. Despite the fluffiness of Episode 1 - or actually maybe because of it - I think the rest of the series will prod buttock. Come on, sibling Jedis. We know how dark and menacing it's going to be by the end of this three. About as dark and menacing as it was at the start of New Hope.

I can't wait.

So the whole Napster/Metallica debacle. It's amazing the outpouring of vitriol this is inspiring. And all because Metallica wanted to protect their intellectual property.

Of course this isn't something they should be allowed to do. This is all much more important to us than it is to them. After all, it's only everything they've built their lives on. We LISTEN to the music. Who do they think they are?

Stupid things I've heard during this mud-slinging match:

1. "Metallica always supported bootlegs and now they're being fascist." The point of this all is that they're only interested in stopping trade in MP3s made from their recorded albums. Fans' own recordings from concerts and all that are not targets. Metallica doesn't want to stop them, just the illegal pirates of recorded, produced, released and copyrighted music.

2. "They're just doing it for the money. They're so fucking greedy!" Yes of course, because no one could possibly care about retaining control over something they've worked so hard to produce. And I'm sure Napster isn't making a profit at all.

3. "We made them rich and famous in the first place! They owe us!" Because James Hetfield stood over you with a knife and made you buy all those albums. And singles. And t-shirts. Or whatever. You gave Metallica (and their record label) your money of your own free will because you liked their music. At what point did Metallica become beholden to you? When did you become their dictator? What gives you the right to reduce them to your servants? No, because you still pay servants. Your slaves.

4. "They sold out when they got their hair cut. I could see this coming." I immediately see the connection between hair-dressing and 'selling out'. Morons. Metallica realised they were getting older and couldn't credibly pretend to be punk teens any longer. Perhaps it's time you realised the same. The only thing more pathetic than an aging hippie in denial is an aging punk-rocker in denial.

Basically, I fully and loudly support what Metallica has done. Napster is ripping off artists - all artists, not just Metallica. Metallica has the clout to make a stand and be taken notice of. By doing this, they are at least attempting to protect those artists who don't have the sort of income the Metallica boys do, and who are really suffering. And they're being victimised by stupid, selfish, whinging layabouts who can't be fucking bothered to obey the laws of their country.

This flagrant abuse of funds should never have gone forth to embarrass the liberal party in its current state. I have heard reports that this shoddy HTML job ran the Victorian Liberal Party to the hefty sum of $100,000 (Australian).

What was that money spent on? Certainly not on HTML coding, which (according to the source) was done on Claris Home Page version 3.0 30 Day Trial. Not even a full, licensed version. There is no background colour, and the main page is lumped into unflattering design. Certainly not on the graphics. The navigational graphics are two tacky rotating .gifs whose only redeeming feature is an interesting font coloration. Scattered throughout the site are various pieces of freeware clip art probably available at Mediabuilder.

Amazing, isn't it, that a state political organisation of Australia can exhibit a monstrosity that would make even a 12 year old teen girl cringe.

I have refined my view of Kittie. Previously having only heard "Brackish" (which is an excellent song title to begin with, but I have yet to determine how it relates to the lyrics of the song; such an activity may, of course, be facilitated by actually being able to decipher what those lyrics may be, but I digress) I had pegged this "girlie group of the psycho rock persuasion" as some sort of unhealthy product of a relationship between Veruca Salt, the Beastie Boys and Rammstein. "Spit" (song, not album) however, sounds like what you might get if the Great Kat had a dom/sub baby with Atari Teenage Riot.

Of course, this is entirely pointless in the long run.

Yes, I am that most despicable of things - a not-quite goth. In years past I have avoided that label, fearing the scathing response it engenders. But now... well... fuck them all. I like to wear black, and make-up, and dance to Rammstein and Depeche Mode.

So many chic online goths despise all others. They declare themselves sickened by the "gother-than-thou" attitude of various others. Very little hypocrisy escapes me, and certainly not something so blatant. I was discussing this with friends (of the GAF variety) and we all have little respect for those who don't allow space for however others may wish to live.

So here's a gleeful two fingers to anyone who thinks I shouldn't be even mentioning the word "goth". And I recommend the following: alt.gothic.fashion.faq

Well, at least if I ever get across the world, I'll know where the toilets in central London are. I looked into the third exchange program of the year yesterday. I'm desperate to get out of the country. Not that there's anything wrong with Australia, in fact there are several things good about it, and I am far from being a whinging teen incapable of seeing past the verdant glow over the hill. There is so much out there, and so many people who care about me, and I want to revel in it all.

My life as a fish was a short and iniquitous career. I was thrown out of the school for singing "Or would you rather be a human". Irony=my perpetual amusement, in every way, shape and form. GM seeks RP - PBeM not LARP. YKYRTM usenet when you are able to decipher acronyms within seconds. Anyone who just asked, "What's usenet?" will be taken outside and summarily executed.