Thursday, June 30, 2011

I Am the Eye within the Gleam

I tend to be quite up and down. One day i might be literally bouncing off the walls. Today was such an example. I was riding up in Mt. Pleasant and, on my way home, I caught a glimpse of the horizon. The sky was ice clear, and i could see all the way to the city. As i sped down this hill, fishtailing a bit over the moss that has developed over the shady patches of road, I felt this surging happiness that enveloped my entire body. Life is fucking sweet!

But, sometimes, life doesn't seem so good. Usually it's the weather. I find winter pretty gloomy. Some people find happy music helps them through a depressive patch. I disagree. I reckon when things seem bleak, and real crap, one should embrace it. Sadness isn't something which should be avoided but, rather, explored. I have always had nihilistic tendencies. While I am passionate about many things, and want to see the world improved, ultimately (and here by ultimately i mean really ultimately) I don't think there is any meaning to anything. Which is both a comforting and terrifying thought.

Sometimes though it's nice to forget all the things that matter to you, or at least seem to matter to you, and remember that we're all pretty pointless really. I can't work out if that's a happy thought, or a sad one.

Shit, that's totally deep James you fucking muppet.

Get grim.

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Everyone needs somebody.

Things to note:

1. Who told Axl wearing those glasses was a good idea?

2. Who told Axl straightening his hair was a good idea?

3. How does Slash, despite an incredibly affected image, come across as a genuine and sincere badass, when compared to Axl?

4. Why the fuck would Axl take a total babe to some local dive with his scum bandmates? To impress her?

5. Why does Slash leave the wedding directly after giving the ring?

6. Seriously, what's up with those glasses?

7. What is this clip about? Is there a moral?

8. Do those glasses represent the catalyst for everything that was Oasis?

9. Fuck me, Slash is a badass.

Monday, June 27, 2011

And I Wouldn't Care if you Died, Right Before My Eyes.

The other day i volunteered to work the BBQ for the Melbourne Roobaix. At first i was cooking the vegan sausages, but they didn't prove that popular, so after an hour or so I was manning chicken and beef.

During the two of three hours i was doing this, I had a good time to think stuff over. Up until a year ago, sausages were a particular favourite of mine. I was one of those people who would go to Bunnings just for the sausage sizzle, then make up a reason for why i needed a hatchet, or a can for two stroke, or a bunch of herbs.

But here I was turning these things over and over, as they bubbled and sizzled, and smelled delicious. I got thinking. And as i did, I had a bit of a realisation, or some degree of epiphany. We, as a society, kill other living creatures (usually in a pretty horrible way), mince them up, then put them in a cylinder, cook them, then eat them.

Sure, you say. Of course you do. But have we actually thought about it? Slaughtering animals that can manage tasks that some small humans find tricky?

I'm grappling with this idea without, firstly, sounding like a naive city kid and, secondly, sounding like a bleeding heart hippy. I may be the former, but I'll be damned if i admit to being the latter. While I have been going through the motions of being a vegan, I have pretty successfully avoided coming into contact with meat for a good few months. Standing there at the BBQ, as everyone munched away (and while Sean the Man declared the vegan sausages 'definitely for faggots') I suddenly realised where the real struggle was. And judging by the crowds yesterday, and the general contempt for the herbivores and their options, we still have a way to go.

Head in the Sand.

So this Australian, all girl, all sister rock n roll band has been creating quite a stir. The oldest member is 21 and the youngest is 12. And everyone is all like "wtf, she's drumming and singing wtf".

While I am, true to form, deeply sceptical of bands like this, they seem to know what the deal is, and their cover of 'Whole Lotta Love' is kinda rad.


Friday, June 24, 2011

Throwing a Grappling Hook into the Ivory Tower

One thing that university has taught me, and something with Socrates was totally right about, is that, the more educated you become, the more you realise you actually know fuck all. Fuck all about yourself, others, cultures, society, the universe (both physical and metaphysical). Furthermore, you also become acutely aware that the methods we use to learn stuff, are incredibly limiting.

For my part, being a student of philosophy, this is especially the case. While I will defend it till the death for its ability to teach us how to think, which is far more important that the subject matter of what we think about, one must become aware of its limitations.

Most of academic philosophy is the process of answering questions no one asked other than other philosophers. This can be quite fun, and quite rewarding, but it is also totally enclosed within itself. People who aren't involved won't understand. That isn't because we are more clever than them, but because we have closed ourselves in with walls of jargon that takes years of training to grasp.

This isn't in the interests of philosophy. Philosophy should be open to everyone who feels the need to think about stuff that doesn't necessarily have a cut and dried answer. If nothing else it will increase the potential for great ideas. Because if we want to get some answers about the things we wonder about, we're gonna need a bigger sphere of influence than just a bunch of people who don't know how to do anything else. Fuck, its only been about sixty years where women have been actively involved in the process. Just how enlightened are we?

Philosophy as it stands now needs to be shaken up, taken by storm, torn down by those who have been excluded from the ivory tower. Because asking things about the world shouldn't been viewed as an elitist dead-end past time, it should be absolutely crucial for everyone on this fucking planet.

The Glorified Gutter

Cyclocross is a lot like listening to grindcore. You love the idea of it, you love thinking about it, you think there should be more of it but, when it actually comes to doing it (or listening to it), the whole process is rather painful, and the end is usually met with some kind of relief. But, after about five minutes, you're telling everyone what a good time you had, and that you can't wait to do it again as soon as possible.

Seriously, cross sucks!

Fuckin' good fun but.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011


Moscow, 1991, just after the fall of the Soviet Union. Just watch Metallica embody 50 years of ideological conflict in six minutes. Fucking. Amazing.

I first saw this clip probably five years ago and remember the tingles down the spine i got. They never really stopped.

Monday, June 20, 2011

Playing to One's Strengths

As you can see, I am very good at cyclocross racing.

Saturday, June 18, 2011

18 and Life

It constantly amuses me to see the concessions people make in order to impress others. I like to think of myself as fairly impervious to this kind of thing. You know, 'fuck it, I am who I am and damn the consequences!' kinda shit.

But I, just like everyone else, fell victim to this. It was 2008 and I was chasing this girl. She was really into Skid Row. Back then, all I wanted to listen to was Slayer, Testament, Carcass and maybe some Exodus. Glam metal was not my thing.

But, for a few months, I became pretty convinced Skid Row were my favourite band. I played their records a lot, and played out the various ways i could straighten my hair to get Sebastian's Bach's incredible locks.

Eventually I realised that there was only so much I could listen to this fuckin pout band before i lusted for the speed and filth of thrash once again. I was a thrash head!

But, hell, looks like you can fool yourself into all sorts of lies for a girl with platinum blonde hair and a penchant for Marlboro Reds.

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

That's Just Something I Don't Need

So Three Day Tour was hard. I raced badly all weekend, and came in way behind in the GC. That's ok though, I learnt a lot. I also now have a cold.

Seeing all the racers on the weekend just inspired me to try harder, dig deeper, and push bigger gears.

Here I am, about to conclude a mediocre time trial.

Fun weekend!

Back with a fucking vengeance next year!

Friday, June 10, 2011

Uh Oh

This weekend I'm racing the Northern Combine Three Day Tour.

Wish me luck motherfuckers.

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

It Sounds So Simple, But I Know It's Fucking Hard

Here at Death Race, we have just worked out how to look at our blog stats. It may surprise our readers to discover that we have a dizzying average of 4 views a day. Not only that, my core audience comes from Australia, North America and Alaska. Some of the key words that people have searched that brought them here are:

1.manowar backpatch

2. proto-black metal

3. How to dress like a metal head

4. I love grindcore

5. The garden sighs...the flowers die

6. Colt fake banned pouring beer

Clearly my audience is an educated one and I will, should my intellect allow, continue to strive to challenge my readers with stimulating content.

Perhaps most pathetic of all is how much my readership stats died after i made blogger not include my own viewing of my own blog. I tell you, there is no justice.

While we are at it I may as well pass on my favourite blogs, so that you, dear reader, can bring my stats down even further, which is as it should be. This guy is a friend of mine. I recently realised that my blog has slowly, and honestly without my realising, become a cheap imitation of his. Sorry about that Brendan. Imitation, flattery and all that. He's pretty funny too. But, mainly, it's a relief from all the fucking picture blogs that regurtitate the same old shit to the same fucking audience. Chaz shares my love for interesting facts, of no particular relevance to anything. This blog is a great resource for this. Occasionally he inexplicably stops working and takes photos with his iphone, mainly of what he eats and what he sees. It's awesome. The original picture blog, and the best. Ryan doesn't give a fuck what you think, and his boundaries of taste are almost certainly further flung than yours. it's good, just not very safe for work. Fortunately, I don't work. That said, I am waiting from that call from Melbourne University IT department for an explanation. I will tell them that I wanted to see all the weird and wonderful things the internet has to offer. Also, occasionally, breasts.

There are other blogs i read, but the above three are the ones i read daily, often checking back multiple times a day. They are all good people with interesting things to say about stuff. And really, what else is a blog, other than ruminations about things no one cares about, in a time that will soon be forgotten by everyone except those that were there.

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

Broken Spell

Holy shit, after about a year of feeling a bit meh about metal, Bathory came along and woke me up.

I don't even fucking like Bathory!

But the opening lick to this song takes me away to the snowbound forests, where wizards have mad beards, and no doubt some kind of evil shit is going down.