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Thursday 30 June 2005

Yeah, I'm pretty much HTML's daddy

Check out my cool new sidebar image! I won't even tell you how long it took me to figure that mess out. It's too embarassing.

I saw the image on Petullant's blog and knew I had to have it. So I asked the lovely Stella Marrs for permission, because even though I love me some pirates I don't actually want to BE one in this case. She said that would be just fine. And she almost didn't have to worry, since I nearly chucked the whole thing in an HTML-induced rage. You should go check out her catalogue though--there's some great stuff on there.

And speaking of pirates and those who have an unhealthy affinity for them, I finally caved and watched the 2003 Peter Pan last night. I really liked it--visually it was just beautiful. And it was more mature than I'd expected.

Most of all, it was 100 minutes of proof that Jason Isaacs is, in fact, my Evil Boyfriend. The man is just delicious as Captain Hook, and I could totally see why Wendy considered dropping Boy-band Peter for him. I would've. He's equally tasty as Lucious Malfoy, btw. And heaven help me for this one, but I even kind of dug him in The Patriot. I know, I know! He's burning women and children alive and all I can think is 1) "Mel is gonna kill you . . . " and 2) "Man that voice is like silk. Show me your pretty eyes again."

Wednesday 29 June 2005

Woohoo. This is too good to be true.

From Today Papers:

SLIPKNOT is accustomed to disgusting its audiences. Judging by its morbid, creepy image, it's even safe to say that the heavy metal band revels in doing that.
.
The nine-piece outfit from Iowa, one of America's most conservative states, is probably unlike any other band lurking in the realm of popular music today. While their sound may be uncompromising and even offensive to some, many agree that they also possess one of the most distinctive sounds in metal, a rarity in a genre that is too often overloaded with manufactured angst and predictability.
.
But perhaps the most striking thing about Slipknot is their grotesque image — the band's nine members have never appeared in public without their facial masks and oversized industrial boiler suits, each marked with its own identifying number.
.
Not unlike that of Marilyn Manson, this is Slipknot's signature attention-grabbing gimmick, an image that mirrors the angst-ridden sentiment of their music. It is a move that has attracted equal amounts of ridicule and awe from fans and detractors alike.
.
Controversies aside, however, the band's record sales have been staggering despite the lack of radio support — its 2004 album Vol 3: (The Subliminal Verses) debuted at No 2 on the Billboard charts and chalked up a Grammy nomination for Best Heavy Metal Performance earlier this year.
.
But it is its performances that Slipknot is most well-known for. Live, their music — stories of alienation, obsession and dementia — reaches fans on a level too deep to ignore, sending crowds into a state of euphoria, where self-loathing and shared negative energy is cleansed by a volley of gargantuan riffs and thunderous drum beats.
.
It is an experience that devotees in Singapore can soon participate in as the band will perform at Fort Canning Park on Aug 16.
.
Concert promoter Lauretta Alabons of LAMC Productions said: "Slipknot is the biggest metal act to play Singapore since Metallica first came here in 1993. It's a real milestone to bring them here."
.
Slipknot's history is a genuine small-town-to-bright-lights success story. But despite all they have achieved since they appeared in 1996, critics would still rather demonise them, just because they wear masks and don't sing love songs.
.
Speaking to Today from his hotel room in Zurich where the band had just played to a sellout audience, Slipknot bassist Paul Gray said: "It is mind-boggling that people still focus on image after all these years. When we (came up with our image), we thought it would be a cool way to get honest reactions from people at our shows. People didn't know what we looked like, so we could get truthful opinions about our music!"
.
Gray is soft-spoken and surprisingly affable, something you wouldn't expect from a man who wears a bloodied pig mask during his performances.
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"People get us wrong all the time. We got banned from playing in Greece and Ireland, which was funny. We do get all these moral groups calling us evil and Satanic but I suppose that happens when you form a band and play heavy metal," he sighed.
.
However, there is an upside.
.
"This may be cynical, but the way I see it, negativity brings us fans. People get curious and we win some new fans along the way. The truth is, I'm not worried too much about what people say about us," Gray said.
.
Calling himself an outsider, the bassist added that, rather than being influenced by Satanic scriptures, Slipknot is actually a product of the band members' surroundings.
.
"Slipknot is the result of growing up in Iowa," he said. "It's a very bitter, bleak place, basically the worst part of America. There's nothing for young people to do, so they end up messing up their lives."
.
"Growing up in a place like we did, I think we can safely say that we know about isolation. Maybe that's why kids take solace in our music. They can tell that we know exactly what they're feeling — that reality is tough."
.
Gray also puts paid to claims that a typical Slipknot show, while being an intense sonic and visual experience, is also incredibly violent.
.
"Our shows may be brutal but they are also therapeutic. That's what we do — the kids come to our shows and go crazy. Then they walk out, cleansed of all the bad stuff that has built up in them."
.
If nothing else, he added, Slipknot is about being unpretentious.
.
"We have always wanted Slipknot to be totally and just about the music," he said.
.
"Why should anybody see our faces? What have our clothes got to do with anything? All we care about is developing the most insane live shows and making our fans happy. When people tell us we're intense musicians, we take that as a huge compliment."
.
what: Baron's Strong Brew presents Slipknot — "The Subliminal Verses" World Tour 2005
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where: Fort Canning Park
.
when: Aug 16, 8pm. Tickets from Sistic.

Tuesday 28 June 2005

My Boyfriend

Meet my dearest Horatio Hornblower





Here are the things I love about him:

1. He's so honorable and brave.
2. Check out those cheekbones!
3. He was a Grecian at school.
4. He can speak French. He sounds silly when he does it, but hey, I'll let him practice on me.
5. He's pretty much there for me 24-7.
6. He's not afraid to cry, and doesn't look all slobbery when he does it.
7. He respects women.
8. There's this cute befuddled look he gets sometimes.
9. I just love me a puffy shirt.
10. Um, he can cook. And give really great massages.

Things we'll have to work on:

1. All those extended trips with the boys have to stop.
2. In fact, let's start thinking about an office job.
3. Haircuts. They're all the rage now.
4. Ditto to styling product.
5. Dearest, these nice young missionaries are coming over tonight after dinner. They just want to chat with you.
6. Blood tests. There's no telling what he could have picked up from some seaport trollop.

And that's all, because he's pretty much The Perfect Man.

Monday 27 June 2005

Come see the Christus

Or, you know, the huge fat bottle of Tahitian Noni. Turns out the good people at Tahitian Noni International ("Our juice is crap but we want you to think it's the gospel!") have taken the next step and opened themselves a Visitors' Center, complete with videos and touch-screen presentations. And a cafe. Maybe our LDS visitors' centers would get more business if we had cafes.

If you don't know anything about the company, good for you. If you do, then you know what I'm talking about. My roommate worked for them so she had bottles of the juice at our house. She made me try some once when I got an "I'm getting a cold" feeling in my throat. It's this thick, purple juice that I wasn't allowed to sip or smell. I was told to just throw my head back and take a shot of it. And then maybe not breathe for a little while.

The taste left me gagging on the floor. It pretty much tastes like a guava throwing up in your mouth. But there are people who love it. They are convinced that it heals their colds, bunions, dyslexia, colon cancer, you name it. At the company headquarters they have those movie theatre drink dispensers (you know, the once that recirculate the drinks) with the stuff in it set up in the breakrooms, and people will run into the room and stick their face under the faucet and slurp it noisily. And then they don't even vomit into a trashcan afterwards, which is what I would do.

Also, don't even get me started on the whole "We have the spirit of the islands here, and we're all about the love and the family and the balanced life" mantra they plaster all over everything. I have never seen someone get worked so completely beyond all sense or reason as they did my roommate. Sure, they'd toss a Target giftcard at her every now and then, but that doesn't really help when all you want to buy with it is a carton of ice cream, a vat of Tylenol, and a blender to mix the two.

I'm just wondering if they're going to serve straight noni juice at the cafe, and how that's going to play out when you get some poor customer who thinks he has signed up for a nice smoothie or something and then gets his first taste. Let's hope they have lots of mops handy.

www.tni.com

Saturday 25 June 2005

Dear heavens

I think I have severe problems.

I'm supposed to be on a date right now, only I'm not. I'm sitting in my kitchen, listening to "Showtunes Saturday Night" on KOSY 106.5. Right now it's "Proticoligorically Correct" from Slipper and the Rose. I wish I could roll my rrrr's in that plummy British way. I just sound like a hissing French person when I try. Or a sputtering car part.

Why am I not on a date? Why am I not on like the 2nd date I've been asked out on this year? It's because I'm an idiot. I took a stand for truth and right and it totally backfired, due to the aforementioned idiocy.

I thought this guy had blown me off because he was supposed to call yesterday to set up the details and he never called. This afternoon I called him and got his vm, so I left a message. Then in my indignation I made other plans (kind of) and when he called I informed him of this.

Only he thought he was supposed to call me today to set up the details. So he wasn't late at all, and I looked like this rude psycho who just calls people up and cancels on them. It was ugly, and so very, very awkward.

Then, miracles of miracles, the guy actually suggested that we go out next weekend instead, and I fell over myself agreeing to anything to prove that I'm actually not some unstable freakshow. "Roller-blading? Sure, I could give it a try. I mean, it's been about 10 years and I might end up swearing in a heap at the bottom of a hill, but yeah, let's do it!"

I will die alone. I will own cats, because I won't deserve a dog, and I will die alone under some huge knitting project, and the cats will eat my flesh.

MAC Attack

Yesterday was a fun one. My sister Jen and I went to a makeup counter at Nordstrom and got ourselves one of them do-overs.

We had to bring Darling Savannah with us and were really careful to put a cute outfit on her so that we would look like the kind of people who belong in Nordstrom. Of course, the wee child threw up her juice all over herself in the parking lot, so there went that plan.

The person who worked on me was wearing this really pretty, understated makeup that day, so I was able to just point at her and say, "Make me look like you." Usually at the MAC counter that would get you looking like a peacock exploded on your face. I was just glad I didn't have to tell her the whole truth:

"Hi, I'm here because I need someone to explain how this whole eyeshadow thing works. Right now it's beyond me. Also, I only spend about 10 minutes in the morning on my face, so I'm looking for maximum results with minimal effort. Plus, I don't plan to actually buy any of your expensive and trendy products, on account of I'm cheap and would consider that Wasting Good Money. Instead, I will be heading over to Wal-Mart right after this so I can load up on Jane products, which Paula Begoun says are practically the same thing anyway. Let us begin!"

My girl was very nice and made me look gorgeous. I swear she used about 7 different eye shadows on me. They all had names like Sable and Llama and Bagatelle and Plumfoolery. I did buy the eye color "Sable" ($13) because I didn't want to be a jerk, and because it looked pretty cool on. Those brushes were kind of amazing, too.

Later that night I went to a wedding reception for a boy I used to have a crush on. It was great for my self confidence to stroll in there, all made up but not looking like a victim of domestic violence or anything. People kept asking me what I'm up to, which from some people is code for "Are you dating anyone yet?" It was very nice to tell them about how I'll be leaving for England in the fall for grad school. Nothing says "not crying into my Italian ice and wedding cake" like moving to Europe!

Only three more months left!

Friday 24 June 2005

Stormblast by Dimmu Borgir.

This song kick some major ass. \m/

Here's the lyrics.

Gjennom tideløse morkne drømmer
I fuktig høstvind ober landstrakte vidder
Mot Sorias fjellheim
Kommer jeg, en fandens ridder

Glatt er runen på det høye fjell
Gnidd vekk av regn og vind
Dragende kraft av ondskap lurer
Her ved trollheims muldne grind
Fortumlet av dette mørke byggverk
Med røvet gull fra lyets pakt
Brukt som spott til å senke
Deres murer

Vi grunder over dette riket
Så vakkert fylt med tideløs skumring
Som en stjerne i tomsindighetens juv
Det bringer frem en nattlig mimring
Over tanker fra en vissen tid

Drott til himmels er det reist
Av tidens endeløse svarte minner
Stormblåst ut av det sorte indre
Har bergflint rullet fra mo til kneist
Undring og angst samler seg i natten
I mørket som ruver om spiret
For ingen dag kan veien hit
Intet lys kan luske frem

Der sorg har beseiret alle gleder
Og bygd et land på menneskets jord
Fylt med isklad prakt og heder

[English translation:]

[Storm blown]

Through timeless, decayed dreams
In a moist autumn wind over deserted plains
Against Sorias mountains
I come, a Devil's Knight

Smooth is the rune on the high mountain
Washed away by rain and winds
Enchanting force of evil lurks
Here at Trollhome's moudly gate
Perplexed by the dark building
Made of stolen gold from the pact of light
Used as mockery to make their walls fall

We ponder over this kingdom
So beautiful, filled with timeless dusk
As a star in the gorge of emptiness
Brings forth a nightly wondering
Over thoughts from a long gone time

Straight to the sky it is erected
From the endless black memories of time
Storm blown out of the black inner
Has rock rolled from heath to bottom
Wondering and anxiety gather in the night
In the darkness looming about the spire
For no day knows the way here
No light can sneak in

Where sorrow has conquered all joy
And built a land on human's earth
Filled with ice-cold splendor and glory


\m/

My catch at the warehouse sale.

Yesterday was a partially enjoyable day.

Got lost in the CDB area, that's not my area, everywhere look the same -- skyscrapers and roads.

In the end, i got myself mini cups and balls set, disappearing card case, paddle thing, and scotch and soda. Now my collection is decent, no more boring and half-dead card tricks. =) But then, I'm very very broke.

Then during the Auction, I had a terrible bout of stomachache, went to the loo to release. Gosh. And the toilet is a little creepy, you get to see some shadows drifting around. Cool.

Then, we went home.

Nowadays, things are getting more and more boring...

Thursday 23 June 2005

Lunch

Being that it's a nice sunny day here in Utah, I walked over to the campus convenience store-type thing to grab myself some lunch. The pickin's were slim, and I'm trying to make good dietary choices, on account of I'm doing this fitness program through the university's human wellness or whatever department. I have to record my food and exercise and report it biweekly to this tall, toned, wight-lifter girl who married a boy from Cambridge, England. So I'm already jealous of her, and then I have to hand her documented evidence of why she marries British boys and I don't.

Anyway, I chose an apple (to ward off the scurvy), a raspberry yogurt, and a small leather-skinned hot dog.

But I wanted to choose eight jalapeno poppers and a waffle cone with roasted almond fudge and peanut butter cup ice cream. And maybe a block of havarti cheese. With whole-grain reduced-fat crackers. And some flapjacks.

Outside the store there were a bunch of little kids sitting on the grass with their moms, eating ice cream cones in their bathing suits. I watched the girls with their little bellies and wet ponytails. As I watched them, I thought 1) Isn't summer a lovely and innocent time to enjoy life's simple pleasures? and also 2) Enjoy it as long as you can, girls. It's all gonna go to crap.

Now about that ice cream cone . . .

We All Scream

And here is a more current picture. She must have picked up that technique from me.

Savvy Baby

Okay, Miss Hass keeps trying to show me up with pictures of her adorable real and pseudo nieces and nephews. And even though I'm a modest and humble person by nature, it's time to bring out the big guns.

May I introduce you to my niece Savannah, even The Cutest Baby in the World


Wednesday 22 June 2005

Dentist droid

Okay, I don't like the dentist's office. Even if the people there are really nice and give me cookies and paraffin wax treatments and movie certificates, I still just don't want to be there. Part of this is because I always start choking/gagging at least once, which is what happens when my mouth is full of water, smoke, and that awful polishing grit. The low point (both for me and the technician) was the time in high school when I gagged and then vomited right in the chair.

I always bring this up at the beginning of a cleaning. I find that it helps us to reach a good understanding, and then people are a lot more willing to keep the heck out of my tonsils and let me rinse & use the sucker hose thingy whenever I want it.

Unfortunately, yesterday I was worked on by a young woman who skipped the phase of cognitive development or work training that would normally cover people skills and basic communication techniques. She pretty much would not talk to me, even when I tried to make conversation. This girl looked about 20, tiny, with tan skin, white teeth, long blonde hair, and I don't think I need to say anything more.

We made it through the polishing alright, and then at the end, while I was still on my back, she said, "I'm going to give you some water so you can swish."

Now, if someone said that to you, what would you think was about to happen? Perhaps your reason and past experience would lead you to think you would be handed a cup of water or directed to a sink or other depository where you could rinse your mouth out and then spit. You would be so wrong.

She used the hose to fill my mouth completely full of water and then sat back in her chair and just watched me. Have you ever tried to swish about 10 oz of toothpaste water while flat on your back? Also, what does she want me to do with it? Am I supposed to swallow it? Because there's no way I'm doing that. I can't ask her these questions, though. Naturally, a couple of seconds in, I started choking. I bolted upright, looking for a sink, but there WASN'T one, so I expelled all the water, spit, and polishing residue INTO MY HANDS AND ON MY LAP. The whole time, she's still just sitting in her chair and looking at me as though I'm some odd zoo exhibit.

Me, still coughing: "Is there a bowl or a sink or something?"
Strange blonde android: "Do you need a cup?"
Me: "Well, where would you like me to put THIS?" gesturing to my cupped hands
SBA: "Oh, there's a sink over here you can use."
Me: "Thanks, that would be preferable to what I'm doing right now."

The dentist poked his head in from the other room to see what's going on. By this time I'm completely gobsmacked and getting a bit furious. This was her fault in the first place, and she didn't even apologized or make a move to help me! I marched over to the sink and flung the spit water in it, then stood there, waiting, with my soaked face and bib and skirt while the android just looked at me. The dentist had to step in and offer me a paper towel, then directed SBA to get me a new bib.

I was so frustrated because everything was just so WRONG. I mean, when something goes badly at the dentist's office (which happens just because that's life) usually people are right there to apologize and clean you up and make things better and keep you from feeling stupid and covered in your own spit. Otherwise you may never go back and all your teeth will rot away and fall out and it would be on their heads.

The rest of the appointment continued in the same vein. I'm not even going to get into the flouride treatment (picture a foam carwash), or the part where she "didn't see" my permanent retainer and kept trying to floss through it.

I called my sister afterwards and ranted to her, and she reasonably pointed out that I should have said something at the time if I was so upset. She said that if the girl doesn't know what she's doing wrong, or if her supervisors don't know what's happening, then it's never going to get better. Then she berated me for not being more assertive when receiving bad service.

So then, rather than losing all respect for myself, I had to call the office and tell them that I'd had a bad experience with my dental assistant and I didn't want her to work on me when I come back for my next appointment. The receptionist was very sorry and said that would be just fine. And now I have to promise myself that the next time something happens I need to be willing to just stop the whole thing in its tracks and explain exactly what I'm having a problem with, rather than giving stony looks in silence.

Tuesday 21 June 2005

Dialectizer

Okay, maybe you have all seen this before, but I hadn't. Go to http://rinkworks.com/dialect/, enter in my your favorite webpage (or hey, try mine) and select "Redneck." Hilarious!

Monday 20 June 2005

Oops

So this conference in WA turned out pretty much the way I figured it would. On the second day I read both "The Miserable Mill" (#4 in the "Series of Unfortunate Events") and "The Chosen" by Chaim Potok. A mother handed one of my stress ball (they look like globes and are very popular) to her baby, who promptly bit off a chunk of it. No one asked where the bathrooms were.

However, there was an added bonus. Bit of background: I was there to promote services that are completely secular but that are offered through a well-known LDS university. Bottom line: I wasn't there in a religious, proselytizing, or recruiting capacity. At all.

Near the end of the day, as I was trying to get rid of my goods, a gentleman stopped and sat in a chair near my booth. He smiled at me as he sat down, so I smiled back and asked if he was tired. He said he wanted to rest his feet for a bit, so I offered him a stress ball to play with while he rested. He said, "Sure" and had me toss it over. So we chatted for a few more seconds and then I went back to what I was doing.

A couple of minutes later, as I was speaking to a couple who had some questions, this gentleman walked over to me and interrupted my conversation to put the ball back in the basket I was holding and say, "I didn't realize this was Mormon material."

I just said, "Okay," and turned back to the people I was with. Then he kind of hung around for the next few minutes, talking to other vendors while sneaking glances over at me. He was probably saying something like "Did you know they let Mormons into this conference?"

Really, I just have no patience for that kind of behavior. It's a latex ball, people. It's not the Book of Mormon, it doesn't have some secret tracking device inside so that the missionaries can find you, and just grow up already.

The part that struck me as funny, though, was imagining how awkward he must have felt, being polite and behaving like a normal human being only to discover after the fact that he shouldn't have. Then he had to run over and go, "Wait, no, I take it back! I take back the friendly! I cannot touch your filthy things!" I mean, we've all been there. I know that every time I'm inadvertently friendly to, say, a Catholic or Muslim, I always feel so awkward afterward. I mean, is it enough to pretend like it never happened, or do you have to go find them and undo it or what? Deep questions, friends. Deep questions.

Sunday 19 June 2005

Happy Father's Day!

Here's to all the good fathers out there, and most specifically to mine, for:

1. Not getting mad when I totalled his car that one time
2. Laughing at my jokes
3. Making the best chocolate milkshakes ever
4. Listening while I rant about idiot things
5. Agreeing with me that the lyrics to "Hero" (as sung by Mariah Carey) do not belong in sacrament meeting talks
6. That recent airport incident where I, ahem, left my purse at his house
7. Doing the family history so I don't have to feel guilty
8. Teaching me how to use the "hostile work environment" card to settle a bit of office idiocy
9. Encouraging me to apply to grad school
10. Never, ever once asking me when I'm going to get married

I love you!

Saturday 18 June 2005

Throw-away words

So I was at Kelly's sister's house for dinner tonight. Her sister is SO cool. The food was amazing, and it was funny to watch 3 boys ages 6 - 10ish act all rowdy and boyish at the table. When I was a kid and living at home, my two brothers were completely outnumbered by girls and couldn't get away with anything. We would even check their lunch bags to be sure they hadn't taken too many snacks. Poor guys, but still. You just don't go hogging the Nutty Bars.

Managed to put my foot in my mouth when I used the word "stupid" as part of a story I was telling. The kids became very still and just stared, which is when I remembered that they don't use the word "stupid" at their house. (I should say here, though, that their mom says calling someone a jackass is just fine because it's a zoological term.) I tried to cover with "I mean, um, I felt so silly. Yes, silly." But that damage was done. I'm now That Potty-Mouthed Friend of Kelly's, and the kids probably prayed for me tonight when they went to bed. Sigh. Does anyone else know of families that have a list like this, where words other than the obvious things like swearing and generally offensive terms are banned? How do you decide which words to pick? Like, if "stupid" is out, can you use "dumb"? And if you can't say "shut up," can you say "shut your cake hole"?

ps. I read "The Enchanted April" by Elizabeth Von Arnim during the DEAD conference today and it was perfect. Highly recommend it as a beach read or an it's-raining-and-I-would-rather-be-relaxing-in-Italy read.

Thursday 16 June 2005

Seattle

So I flew to Seattle this morning for work and I'll be here for a couple of days, running a booth at a conference. This is always great fun, because I spend my time 1) reading, 2) handing out promotional goodies to people who won't look at me and who plan to give the things to their pets/infants to choke on, and 3) telling people where the bathrooms are.

The two bright spots are Washington, which is lovely, and my friend Kelly, who lives here and is even lovelier. We've already gone to her favorite cafe (Cosmo's in Port Orchard) to eat paninis made with smoked mozzarella cheese, tomato, and fresh basil, bowls of Greek lemon chicken soup, and some very rich chocolate cheesecake. While you're there, you can also buy things like triple-cream brie and hazelnut oil and imported capers. My favorite was the tiny jar containing two truffles (product of France) for $12.

I think one of the things I love about this area, especially the foresty part where Kelly lives, is that it reminds me of being home in Alaska, but better. Because here, it's green and lush and beautiful, but you don't run the same risk of being eaten by a bear or stomped to death by a moose. And I can appreciate that.

It's confirmed!

It's confirmed!

Slipknot is definitely coming to Singapore!

Fort Canning Park is the place where sicness will prevail!

Darn, Roadrunner Records said Singapore is in China?! Sigh...

I'm saving for it now!

Wednesday 15 June 2005

Greetings

Please bear with me as I get into this newfangled blogging thing.

A couple of friends have suggested that I start one, since I'll be heading across the Pond in the fall to start grad school in England. Yes, I've decided to embrace my destiny as an LDS spinster (read: one who is over 23 and still single), and figure that a degree in library science and maybe some cool black frames will be the perfect finishing touches. The moving to England part is just a really, really big perk. People can say whatever crap they want about the weather, the food, the teeth, but I love that place. I did a study abroad in London about 6 years ago and have been trying to find out how to get back there ever since. I had no idea that all you have to do is give them $30K and you're in!

The fact that my current job has been sucking the life out of me for the past two years was another big motivator to seek further education. Turns out I'm not much for marketing or sales or Coveyspeak. Or never-ending business trips, delayed flights, hotel bedspreads, and those stupid extra-long rental cars that you can never park correctly.

Tuesday 14 June 2005

The Wait is Over.

From the news on Lamcproduction.com,

I can conclude that the long and definitely agonising wait is over and my paitence in waiting wasn't wasted.

SLIPKNOT IS COMING TO SINGAPORE!

August 16th, Singapore shall never be the same again.

Let the Knot Coven terrorise this island and let the (sic)ness reign over those mindless herds of people.

But, I hope that the Knot won't play much of their new album. Stick to Self-titled and Iowa please. :) And, please play Purity or Eeyore. Of course, Heretic Anthem, Left Behind and (sic) are essential in this mass brainwashing session.

The dream of mine is finally coming to reality. I can't really believe it, I have waited so long, till the feeling of waiting has became all numb. It's around 3 to 4 years of hard waiting, mind you.

Let Slipknot conquer you!

Corey, I'm waiting for your Great Big Mouth!

Joey, please do an insane drum solo!

Please sell some masks or jumpsuits!

If you are 555, then I'm 666.

Sunday 12 June 2005

No words can describe....

I didn't win a fucking shit.

SADNESS.

Enough said.

Friday 10 June 2005

GOSPEL OF FILTH!

The definitive guide to the dark side.

The most realized band in the Black Metal realm... Cradle of Filth always create with an intelligence and self-awareness that reveals a great art.
- Rolling Stone magazine

Black Metal was the most vibrant and volatile force on the musical underground in the 1990s. It exploded into worldwide infamy with a violent spree of suicide, church-burning, and murder. Foremost among those who rode this infernal whirlwind were the British band Cradle of Filth, who transcended the genre's cult boundaries - and their own brushes with the law - to grace the covers of countless Metal magazines and sell hundreds of thousands of albums. All without compromising their unique vision, which artfully combines Hammer horror style schlock, dripping with eroticism, backed by an authentic interest in the Black Arts and a wicked sense of humour. Cradle mastered the Gothic aesthetic's evocative marriage of sex and death, with an ethos which is both tempting and terrifying. The impish wit of Cradle's eponymous singer and lyricist Dani Filth completes the decadent package. In The Gospel of Filth he collaborates with acclaimed author and internationally lauded occult expert Gavin Baddeley to lift the lid on the world's most controversial Metal band.

Baddeley is the patron saint of Gothic journalism.
- The Journal of Popular Culture

Cradle of Filth are not only titans of the vibrant black metal underground, but hugely successful recording artists whose sales figures eclipse those of many household names. Significantly, the band's success rests not only upon their musical abilities, but also the literate quality of their lyrics - which evoke Gothic figures like Byron and de Sade - and Cradle's peerless visuals, which have become works of art in their own right. Combining formidable arsenals of contacts, Baddeley and Filth have assembled a list of contributors and interviewees for this book - from actor Christopher Lee and Satanist Anton LaVey, to serial killer expert Robert Ressler and necrophile Karen Greenlee - that will dazzle devoted disciples of darkness while drawing many novices and newcomers into the Filth fold.

Gavin Baddeley is a sharp cookie.
- Anton LaVey, 'The Black Pope'

The Gospel of Filth dissects the Satanic sources that have influenced and informed Cradle of Filth over the past decade, in the process providing a roadmap to every significant landmark in the domains of darkness. From the arcane secrets of Black Magic, via the sex rites of vampirism, to modern horrors such as the serial killer cult, the author lays bare the fascinating underworld of contemporary culture. Meanwhile, Mr Filth himself applies his considerable wit to these kindred topics, adding his own anecdotes and experiences to this already heady brew.

Table of Contents

1. 'Invoking the Unclean'
Esoteric England
Cradle of Filth is distinguished by their roots in the genre's English birthplace, roots that have coloured Cradle's attitude, appeal and approach throughout their career.

2. 'Goetia'
The Black Arts
Black Magic forms the central theme of Cradle of Filth's image and lyrics. But just how much of it is image, and how much a serious dedication to the dark arts?

3. 'The Principle of Evil Made Flesh'
The Femme Fatale
The imagery that dominated Cradle of Filth's debut, and has continued to do so ever since, is that of the lethally lovely goddess, as deadly as she is desirable.

4. 'V Empire: Dark Fairy Tales in Phallustein'
Fun and Fear
Fairy stories are the direct ancestors of the modern horror genre, and the same puckish blend of fear and fun that lies behind the common childhood delight in the monstrous and macabre, informs Cradle of Filth's impish sense of humour.

5. 'Dusk... and Her Embrace'
Gothic Romanticism
Another vital element in Cradle's black metal cocktail was a liberal dash of Gothic Romanticism, which helped distinguish them from the competition.

6. 'Cruelty and the Beast'
The Mythology of Murder
Serial murder has exerted a growing, fatal fascination over us over the past few decades, so perhaps it is inevitable that the phenomenon has become a feature in Cradle's lyrical chamber of horrors.

7. 'Midian'
Tales of Terror
The name 'Midian' is borrowed from horror legend Clive Barker, though this is far from the only time Cradle have made reference to horror film and fiction.

8. 'Bitter Suites to Succubi'
Deviance and Desire
There can be few better symbols for the sinful side of Cradle than the succubus, a ravishing yet rapacious demon who rides the innocent while they sleep.

9. 'Damnation and a Day'
Demonic Doctrines
It was perhaps inevitable that Cradle would eventually record an album devoted to black metal's patron, the Prince of Darkness.

10. 'Nymphetamine'
Oblivion
Just what is it about the dark side that appeals? What is it that draws Dani, Cradle of Filth, and so many of us towards things that things that we know will harm, even ultimately destroy us?

-- I'm really anxious about this!--

Thursday 9 June 2005

The Big Day -- Magic Unlimited 2005

Well. Today's the Big Day!

To cut a long sotry short. Went to SM early today. That place was already bustling with lots of people. Happening man!

Then things started to happen so fast, I don't know how to say.

Went to the stage, seasoned myself to the atmosphere there. Didn't feel much then. This is the Prequel of the Apocalyse.

Then went to SM to open our Brand New decks. Wei Ping got my name wrong! Now I'm LS, not LX... What the... Nevermind that.

Anyways, I'm still not very tensed up or anything. Prequel still.

Then we need to go the the backstage already. Still fine and going. =)

Then Pei Hong went up. He restarted his routine.... Wooo...

Ok, then it's MY TURN!

I went up, feeling numb, emotionless, just want to end this real quick!

Got my decks, feeling the stress now... Mounting, like dead bodies.

Ok, Creatures that Kissed Cold Mirrors blared. I can feel that Dani Filth The Man is with me, the Fitlh is with me.

But Stress was with me more.

Ok, so I started my bullshit. Very dull, monotonus. Lousy Opener.

Then, I trembled so MUCH, I had a little trouble starting a simple sybil...

I took a deep breathe and brace myself. DO IT, I commanded myself. JUST DO IT.

Ok, so I went on and on.

Bad Habits, Madonna, WTH (alot of these!), Werm, Crucifix Disarray, Vertigo Variations, Damn Straight... And that's what I remembered.

My mind was in a state of pure blankness and void then. Blank. Just numbed out.

I think I had dropped a total of 5 to 7 cards. Sigh.

Anyways, it's OVER! Muahaha!

And yes, the MC is weird, calling Bone as Mr. Bone. -.-

Bone is da Man!

He's cool, very XCM-ish, and god-like. Perfect Fans, Perfect Filpback fans with brand new deck, and an insane L Cuts.

Bows down to him!

After jamming and all, and sitting as the Stoner's Gang. Went to Macs for dinner.

That's the end of my day.

Shoo.

Wednesday 8 June 2005

Blood Countess Elizabeth Bathory

Countess Elizabeth Bathory (1560-1614), often referred to by her Hungarian name, Erzsebet, was a Hungarian noblewoman, born to one of Hungary's wealthiest and most influential families. As with most European aristocratic dynasties, the Bathory clan was fraught with mental illness resulting from a long tradition of inbreeding. King Stephan of Poland ranks as one of Elizabeth's more memorable relatives; the less savory included a bisexual, sadistic aunt and a schizophrenic uncle. Small wonder, then, that Elizabeth began suffering from epileptic fits at the age of four or five. The young Countess was a spoiled child, raised by a string of governesses employed to cater to her every need. Though her erratic fits and stand-offish personality were bothersome, she was generally regarded as an intelligent and capable young woman.

At the age of eleven (or fifteen, by some accounts) Elizabeth became engaged to twenty-six-year-old Count Fernencz Nadasdy, a renowned war hero whose sadistic flair would ultimately earn him fame as "The Black Hero of Hungary." As was not uncommon in aristocratic circles, the marriage was a purely political union engineered by Elizabeth's opportunistic mother. The Nadasdy clan also climbed a few rungs on the social ladder - the Bathorys were a more powerful family with greater seniority. Though much speculation has been published with regard to the Countess' marriage, Fernencz's frequent absences were a hard fact. The first few years of their marriage produced few children, and it was during these long periods of solitude that Elizabeth's sadistic nature took rein.

Before we explore any further, I must mention an incident from the Countess' childhood that clearly influenced her brutal actions as an adult. At a young age, Elizabeth witnessed the execution of a traitorous gypsy; the accused was stuffed in the dissected belly of a live horse and sewn inside. The gypsy's death was presented as a public spectacle (one particularly titillating for the nobles who attended); no sympathy was shown for the man's death nor was any remorse present on the faces of his executioners. This incident convinced young Elizabeth - in whom the seeds of cruelty had been sown at birth - that commoners could be killed with impunity and without fear of retribution.

In her early twenties, Elizabeth, perhaps in a fit of boredom, discovered that torturing servants "tickled her fancy," if you will. No clear reasons have yet been given as to why the Countess took such exquisite pleasure in the pain of others, but overwhelming evidence proves that she did. Unfortunately for the teenage females in the servant population, Elizabeth's choice targets were adolescent girls. She began by ripping their bodies apart with red-hot pincers, setting them on fire, and torturing them with "star-kicking," which entailed oiled bits of paper being placed inbetween the servants' toes; the paper would be lit on fire while the Countess delighted in the spectacle of the girls attempting to kick away the flames. (How utterly delightful.) She was known to rip girls' heads apart - literally - by pulling their mouths open until they tore at the edges and the neck snapped. On her better days, she delighted in humiliating girls by forcing them to strip naked and perform their household duties in full view of men.

When Fernencz returned home from war, he often indulged in the torture spectacles with his wife, though most accounts note that his capacity for administering agony was vastly exceeded by his wife's - Ferencz would storm off in disgust while Elizabeth squealed in delight. In her late twenties, the Countess bore two daughters and a son, all of whom were promptly relinquished to the care of wet nurses and governesses shortly after birth. Though the Countess ignored her children, she did not include them in her tortures.

As the Countess grew steadily older, her thirst for innocent girls' flesh heightened. She invented new forms of torture, such as "honey torture," in which a girl was covered with honey and left outside to be devoured by insects and predators, and "water torture," in which a girl was stripped naked, taken out into sub-zero temperatures, and showered with cold water until she froze to death. Following the death of her husband (which some attribute to the Countess herself, though no strong evidence exists), she became ever more concerned with her fading beauty and began the regular blood-baths which earned her notoriety.

When an unfortunate servant girl pulled the Countess' hair while styling it, Elizabeth slapped the girl so hard that blood splashed on her hand. As she went to wipe it off, she believed that the skin touched by the blood had regained the smooth, creamy complexion for which it had once been famous. She consulted her accomplices - witches known as Darvulia, Helena Jo, and Dorka - who assured her that the blood of virgins was indeed the proverbial fountain of youth for those who bathed in it. Elizabeth ordered the maid's throat slashed and her blood drained into a large vat; she bathed lavishly in the blood while it was still warm. Thus began a horrific ritual; hundreds of girls were kidnapped, brought to the castle, and drained of their blood. Often she bit their necks and breasts herself, drinking the blood and eating the flesh from their open wounds. Elizabeth ordered torture devices from German clockmakers and blacksmiths; soon Csjethe Castle, where she lived out much of her adult life, had a full-scale torture chamber in the basement. Aside from the notorious vat and a kitschy iron maiden, there were spiked cages and a spike-filled metal orb hanging from the ceiling. Girls were placed in the cylindrical spiked cages and prodded with red-hot iron pokers until they impaled themselves on the spikes; others were placed in the spiked orb, which was rocked back and forth like a pendulum until the girl's flesh had been shredded. The cages were fitted with drains at the bottom so that the Countess could stand beneath them for a "blood shower."

Elizabeth's reign of terror continued for years. The casualty list grew into the triple-digits; this was later verified by the roster of victims the Countess kept in her writing desk. Bodies of dead girls were burned, buried beneath the castle floors, or left in the wilderness to be devoured by scavengers. Shockwaves of terror penetrated the surrounding countryside from which most of Elizabeth's victims had been abducted, but few dared speak out for fear of the Countess' infamous wrath. Even the clergy - supposedly responsible for protecting peace and justice - remained silent.

But even a powerful aristocrat cannot commit 600+ unavenged murders. Towards the end of her murderous marathon, the Countess became sloppy, ordering dead girls tossed over the castle walls to be devoured by passing wolves and asking clergymen to perform burial services for mutilated girls. However, no direct action was taken until the Countess, having exhausted her supply of adolescent girls in the area, began preying on noblewomen of lesser rank. She established a sham "school" for teenage girls of noble birth, inviting them to Csjethe Castle with the promise of education, only to torture them to death for months at a time.

A clergyman finally notified King Matthias of Hungary, who commissioned Elizabeth's cousin, Count Thurzo, to conduct an investigation of the Countess' activities. A raid on the castle proved ghastlier than Thurzo and his men had prepared themselves for: one dead girl in the main hallway, another, still alive, whose entire body had been pierced with holes, and several more hung from the rafters of the basement ceiling like gutted deer, their blood emptying into Elizabeth's now-legendary vat. Fifty bodies were exhumed from the basement of the castle; the roster, discovered in Elizabeth's desk, listed the names of 650 girls who had been murdered. The Countess' accomplicies - Dorka, Ficzko, and Thorko, among others - were taken into custody, while the Countess herself was placed under house arrest in her castle.

In 1610, the Countess and her accomplices were placed on trial. Dorka, Helena Jo, and Ficzko confessed after lengthy torture sessions, though their attempts to diminish their roles in the terror were blatant; "life in prison with the possibility of parole" was not an option in seventeenth-century Hungary. All placed the majority of blame on Anna Darvulia, a witch consort of Elizabeth's who passed away several years prior to the trial. Over 200 witnesses were called, many of whom had little more than hearsay to offer; nonetheless, confessions of those close to the Countess' court, as well as the grisly evidence uncovered at Thurzo's raid, provided ample testimony to her guilt. Elizabeth herself never physically appeared in court or admitted to any crime.

Here I must briefly digress. Elizabeth's failure to appear in court was not by her own choosing; in fact, she pleaded constantly with her captors to publicly present her own side of the story. Unfortunately for her, King Matthias was not privy to her demands, having engineered her trial as a public spectacle to check the unruly nobility. Although there exists ample evidence proving Elizabeth's guilt, it is important to note that she was not permitted to testify at her own trial.

Her accomplices, however, were shown no mercy. Dorka and Helena Jo, whose hands had "spilled Christian blood," had their fingers torn out with red-hot pincers before being thrown into a fire; the others were beheaded and burned at the stake. Another cohort, Erszi Majorova, was later beheaded when evidence surfaced linking her to the Countess' sadistic activities.

By law, Elizabeth's noble birth prevented her from sharing the fate of her accomplices, but her cousin Thurzo sentenced her to "perpetual imprisonment in [her] own castle" in 1611. (Legend holds that he pronounced this judgement upon raiding the Countess' torture chamber, but we have no evidence that this ever happened.) Elizabeth was walled into a small chamber in her castle, with only a small hole left open for air and food. The tower still stands today in the modern Slovak Republic. A full transcript of the trial was produced and remains today in the Hungarian State Archive in Budapest.

Countess Elizabeth Bathory never confessed to her crimes, nor did she utter a word of repentence or remorse. After refusing the services of a battalion of priests, she was found dead in her prison in 1614, three years after her initial imprisonment. She was fifty-four years old. Folklore has attributed her death to deprivation of virgins' blood, but old age was the most likely culprit.

A complete transcript of Elizabeth's trial was compiled during the proceedings but spent the next few centuries locked away in the Hungarian State Archive in Budapest. Csjethe Castle fell into ruins, which can be seen today in the modern Slovak Republic. (For pictures of what remains of the castle, please see the "images" page.) Elizabeth was interred in the Bathory family tomb, and the act of speaking her name was declared a criminal act by the Hungarian Parliament. Only after the demise of Communism was the Archive opened and the trial transcript released. The prior lack of evidence, though, did not stop Hollywood from turning out a handful of cheap horror flicks based on the Countess' story. The 1970's film Countess Dracula was the first to deal explicitly with the Bathory story, though the villainess is named "Mathory." Movie insiders say that a newer version of the Bathory story (starring (gulp) Linda Blair, which offers some insight into its predicted quality) is in the works right now.

-- Indeed, a Highborn Wanton she was --

\m/

Tuesday 7 June 2005

2 More days...

That's it! 2 More days to my Judgement Day!

I'm number 2. Pros and Cons. End the crap fast and quick. And, relax myself after that. And, the crowd might be thinner then, not much stress then! Cons, I will feel extremely stressed to go out so fast.

Well, no use babbling. Bribe Bone!

Wish me well!

Sunday 5 June 2005

The Audition results...

The Flourish Audition's results are out!

Guess what... It's so saddening, that I have no choice but to continue and endure sky high adrenaline in front of the audience and crap. Darn!

Yes, if you are thinking...

I effing GOT in.

=D

One step closer to my Jerry Nuggets.

But I have to endure more stage fright and trembling hands...

Sigh.

But for Jerry Nuggets, I don't mind it all. =D

Gonna ballot for the performance order tomorrow evening. =)

So, yes, I'm gonna skip that day's lessons, and train and prepare myself mentally. Have to remain real calm that day.

Sheesh!

Wish me good luck!

May Dani Filth bless me. \m/

Saturday 4 June 2005

Babble babble the Fourteen.

Fri -- 3th June.

Went to a so called haunted Post World War 2 Army Barracks with Miss Mudblood Fiona and MapleNoob Calesta and some strangely enough Church people from Fiona's church.

And, God has wonderful hearing! Their prayers were like bullet speed and on par with those rap artists. Wow! Prowess. They OWNED the Shady Records. Woot. 1337 H4XXoRs.

So NOT happening. Just walk and walk and walk and walk and walk.

Pitch black everywhere... Utter boredom...

Then, I went home.

Sat - 4 June.

AUDITION FOR MAGIC UNLIMITED 2005 FLOURISH COMPEITION.

ONE WORD: SCARY EXPERIENCE.

Bone was the judge, luckily he isn't the Simon Cowell type. Phew.

Imagine this,

" God sent me to do sybils..."
" God has made a terrible mistake then''

ROLF!

I was trembling the whole while.... Wobbly sybils, lousy Veritgo variations.... Bleah. Hate myself.

Hope Wei Ping will call me today.

FOR THE SAKE OF JERRY NUGGETS! ALL THE ARDENALINE IS WORTH IT.

MUST PSYCHO MYSELF.

Friday 3 June 2005

I'm Her Ghost in the Fog!

You are "Her Ghost In the Fog". You're a bit of a romantic. You're also heartbroken from a love lost.

Take the Quiz here!

Have fun!

Wednesday 1 June 2005

I won't let anyone meddle with Cradle of Filth. NO ONE.

Tonight is a rather shitty night.

Someone got the mere guts to come up to me to say blatantly that Cradle of Filth kinda sucked. You know who you are. Cowering in fear... I can almost smell it. Is it because that you have a super low ego that you start acting like that 3-nob and get attention?

Pathetic.

Some people, or rather, the whole wide fucking world, just like to stereotype and follow the crowd mindlessly, aimlessly, like a BLIND fucking goat. Don't you people have a mind of your own? Why follow what others feel and think? You are being a slave to the world. And the world is stupid. So go infer yourself.

Next thing, have you ever SERIOUSLY tried listening to metal music even for like a minute?

I Do Not Think So.

So stop insulting, when you have NO idea of what is it. What it really is. STOP. Your. Foolish. Act. That. Got. People. Hating. You. Be smart. Don't act smart. Your attempt is totally futile.

Now, I can sense that you have gotten a taste of what is it like to be insulted.

Good. So think thrice before insulting and having nonsensical comments on things that you have no idea of. It's dumb.

And, I have an interesting question for you to ponder.

If metal and Cradle of Filth is SO bad, and they ''kinda sucked'' in your mindless context, why do they have so many fans WORLDWIDE? Why do they have so many albums released? Why do they have the funds to continue for like 20 YEARS? WHY? I wonder why... Hmmm...

Ask Clement Sim on his comments on Metal Music. I can gurantee that he's a pure non-metalhead before I met him. I have testimony, you? Try digging, you will most probably find nothing but filth.

And, The Filth legion is coming for you. Haunt your ass down. Slay you.

I shan't waste anymore efforts. As Anton LaVey (in case, you are being ignorant again. He's the FOUNDER of Church Of Satan.) says, don't waste too much an effort on your enemy. (yes, you have earned the title.) Or your curse or hex's success rate will drop. (And, again, you can infer all you want.)

Think about it.

Courting trouble, young fellow. Learn the way before sprouting. It helps.

Stop watching Russell Peters, he's insulting Chinese. You are Chinese. Go Infer.

Go read more. Talk less. God gave us 1 mouth and 2 ears. (God wants us to listen more, be more open minded in opinions. You aren't the right one all the time. Be more receptive. You may find something worthwhile.)

No offence, as you said.

Go beg the Pope for forgiveness. It works.

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