May 27th, 2002

2020 lack of vision

i need to give up my job because I don't have time to fall in love

In a last ditch attempt to cure my headaches, dyed my hair green. Surprisingly effective, but this morning dreamt about my friend Betty, in an anxiety dream full of slopes getting steeper, doorways getting narrower, gaps in the hedge being a bit further away than you thought, etc., etc. Her clothes were a mumsy pale green (unusual enough in itself, Betty is a firm tweeds and sensible-grey lady) but so was her skin, her hair, and even the whites of her eyes. She's on holiday at the moment, and I got that moment of sucking fear that comes when you dream a bad dream about an absent friend. My hair isn't pale green, though, it's a green as bright as parrots or paint.

Couldn't be bothered to think of anything else to wear, so wore the same slogan all weekend, all weekend reminded of my tmididity that I hadn't really dared put "manless and baby-hungry" across my chest when I was spending the afternoon working in the bookshop and instead had grabbed an obscure slogan from my Lain lunchbox: close the world open the next. Spent the afternoon explaining it to people. And sorting books. And the rest of the weekend wearing it, but strangers don't care about wierd slogans when there's green hair on display. One guy came out of his shop for a stare and wow and can-I-touch-it. Said it was his first green hair. Offered me a special deal on sunglasses but all the sunglasses that looked like they matched my hair didn't.
  • Current Music
    wild is the wind - perfect

not quite good enough for the weekly strip

Mail received from a friend who works for a computer games company.

Dear God. What have we done to our children?

[salon reports on the growing phenomenon of LAN parties, where marathon gaming sessions are fuelled with drugs ranging from mountain dew to cocaine]

And here was me thinking it was just the people who developed the games who
kept nipping out to the carpark to "calm their nerves"...



"Tom leaves three days later, drained from lack of sleep and fried from staring at his monitor. With his jacket empty of weed, another workday stares him in the face. It's been a weekend muffled in sensory white noise, a visit to a cocoon of headphones, pixels and dope, and he'll do it again next Friday."

-- it's a public information film! Hey, let's shoot it in the barn!


We could call it "CounterStrike: Just Don't Do It."

Or possibly "Unreal Tournament - It Really Fucks You Up"...


Adrian should play the haggard old games junkie, you'd be organising the LAN parties, Alastair can be introducing young gamers to the whole sordid scene (played by Archie, Mike, Tom, etc.), Alex can be the young hoodlum-turned-pusher and Damian can be the serious man who shakes his head and says, "Kids, just say no!" at the end.

Name-wise, I prefer something a little more straightforward: Gaming Junkies!, Drug-crazed LAN-party fiends!, or My descent into gaming hell...

keep manufacturing the stuff,

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    divine comedy - perfect lovesong