Speechless.

Apart from an enourmous quantity of swearwords, that is. See, I’m pro-choice. I find it very hard to sympathise with the pro-life view. I mean, the pro-choice lobby isn’t forcing anyone to have abortions, and I think it’s hugely immoral, not to say just plain rude to try and prevent someone from having one.

But at least when an individual person is pro-life, well, it’s just one person, I don’t agree with them, but I know many decent and extremely clever people with whom I disagree on a wide range of issues, including this one. But when a state is pro-life I get incandescent. This is scummy, disgusting behaviour of the first water. It’s fucking religious is what it is. And I disapprove of churches being allowed to set any sort of political agenda, because it’s patently obvious to even a half-bright three year old that they’re not fit to work out a fucking moral agenda, never mind a political one.

Attention Americans: Until you depose your president by armed revolution, and chase him through streets in a mob baying for his blood and the blood of his administration and all their friends and family, finishing by scourging them all to death with rusty barbed wire, the rest of the world will refuse to take you seriously as a sentient people.

Coming this weekend.

Well, the iPod should arrive either today or tomorrow, so there’ll have to be time to play with that at some point. Other than that, I’m going to Fin’s work do tonight and Andrew and Marysia’s tomorrow to heal a sick PC. Oh, and I’m going to be in Edinburgh between the 7th and 11th of Jan next year. Hurrah!

Precis.

Moved back to Sutton. New Job Starts In January. Looking forward to long Christmas break. Internet connection at parents place fucked. More in a week or two, when I hope to be back on line properly.

The Parting Glass

I’m not ready to go. Mum and Dad are arriving at ten-ish tomorrow, and I’m just not ready. Oh, don’t get me wrong. I’m escaping from a shithole that has sapped my creativity and half killed my social life, and I’m dancing a fucking jig about it. Literally. Well, I was a few minutes ago, as Flogging Molly sing on the stereo. But I’m not packed. I don’t have enough boxes to pack all my gear in, so Mum and Dad are bringing more with tomorrow. I’ve done the washing up, I’ve put as much as I can in boxes, and there’s really not a lot left to do except wait for tomorrow, and the inevitable fight to get everything in the van. Wish me luck.

And now, some timewasting, I think. I’ll lift a whiskey to getting the fuck out of here, and then I think it’s time to abuse this broadband connection I’ve paid for and hardly used. I’ve never really done much in the way of on-line gaming, so I think I’ll see if this Dungeon Siege thing works on-line…

Coloured Dead Cow.

Anyone out there know anywhere in London I can get a backpiece painted on my leather jacket for a reasonable (sub-100 quid) price? Anyone out there artistically gifted and want to give it a shot?

I Know The Charms…

Copey’s a bright fella, and doing his version of “The 18 Charms Of Odin” on the stereo right now, so it’ll do for a title. Yes, I am still alive. Yes, I am still in the process of moving, but there’s only a week and a couple of days to go, so that should all be sorted nicely, and with any luck, I’ll manage more than one update every couple of weeks.

I would have posted my thoughts on the new Potter movie, but I thought I’d wait a week or to, so save LJ folks getting accidentally spoilered by my lack of ability to use the cut tag. Non-spoiler version in the meantime: Highly enjoyable, but I’m glad Chris Columbus isn’t directing number three – his stylistic quirks are more prevalent in this than in the first one, and they annoy me.

Today’s Rhyme…

“Remember, remember, the 5th of November
Gunpowder, treason and plot,
I see no reason why gunpowder treason,
should ever be forgot.”

Damn right. I mean, If we forget about it, we’re never going to get it done right are we?

EGOMANIA

Alan Moore, on Lost Girls:

Ah, Lost Girls. Can you imagine anyone else being able to get a wonderfully accomplished artist to spend thirteen years drawing pornographic material for them, customised to demand; being able to declare himself a pornographer and have everyone take it as some bold new intellectual position; or even claiming against tax for high class scud-books like The Art of the Marquis Von Bayros as “reference material”? No. You can’t. This is why I am a genius. “What are you doing in that bathroom, young man?” “Mother, I am doing highly paid reference work.”

One of the things that has made Lost Girls work is that we realised fairly early on that there probably wasn’t a sexual act, no matter how seemingly perverse or even grotesque it might sound from a brief description, that couldn’t be made beautiful with enough layered crayon effects.

The second issue of Eddie Campbell’s Egomania can be ordered now from Diamond Comics Distributors, Cold Cut and Top Shelf Productions.

I mention it here because most of its 48 page length is going to be an interview with Alan Moore. I am so there…