I have evolved. I have become something else. I am mutating into the monster I am. It is all darkness and newness. I hope you enjoy.

http://kowalski.tblog.com/" title="http://kowalski.tblog.com/" target="_blank"http://kowalski.tblog.com/

a new blog for a new mindset. come play.

i have run out of literature. please recommend me some books to read and if i haven't read them i will. i prefer odd books with clever styles, designs and suprising plots, but will settle for any old rubbish.

cheers,

dmk

i'm really fucking bored. a sense of listlessness and apathy has swept over me like the tide of evil that flowed over europe in 1939. i want to do something but there is nothing i want to do. it's like all the ideas and energy is there but the screen si dead and nothing can be utilised. it also seems like i'm full of metaphors, similar to a mug that is brimming with warm, sweet tea.

christ's fat cock, life is dull dull dull dull dull dull dull dull dull. really in the mood to rattle people's cages. but there's nobody about to bother. fuckers. sitting on my own in my room. the fireplace is cold and dead. the lights are low enough to stub my toes on stray plates and mugs. in the background the radio is warbling on radio 4 some shite about walking across wiltshire in the dark in search of giant cats. the shutters are up to block out the night and i seem to have some chips/fries cooking in the oven. comfortable, yet bored. i think i've got a thing about fire. i've recently regained my urge to set fire to stuff at random. since i've given up smoking i think it's got worse. it was tempered when i had to make little fires every 20 minutes or so for 15 years. but now i want to burn down cars and trees and people and bus shelters and vast piles of rubbish.

i'm out of books to read. anybody got any? the weirder the better.

think i'm gonna lie face down on the floor and wait for something to happen.

Query:
How many Tuc Original Crackers (New Improved Recipe) would it take to fill the room i am in?

Volume
Biscuit volume = 16.25 cm3
Room volume = 1500000000 cm3

Room / Biscuits = 92307692.31 biscuits to fill the room.

Time
Time to eat 1 x Biscuit = 30 secs
Time to eat 92301692.31 biscuits = 3.5125 years

Weight
Biscuit weight = 5 gms

5 x 92307692 = 461538461 gms
461538461 = 461.53846 metric tonnes

i don't own a TV and i think this is the best. i would recommend it to anybody.

let me explain. I have a computer and a special card so i can watch movies on DVD and Video [remember them?] and that's all that i want. i don't want my mind fogged by bland 'genutainment' TV shows: [queer eye for  decorating a hospital so that a puppy can move the a house abroad--you know the sort i mean].  i like my news cold [in newspapers] it is therefore no longer new and of no concern to me. anything important i would know about already. even documentaries that i spot accidentally when round mate's houses seem unintelligent to me. no longer can i watch them and wonder what the bloody hell they buggering on about; "the differentiation of status when it comes to ancient athenian citizens actually limited the powers of democracy of the state." huh? these days it's more like "chips? lets see how they're made." cock.

no wonder i'm feeling less intelligent. when we get older we will be surrounded by people who are noticeable less intelligent than we are and there will be no reason for it. it's just the slow slide of society. things like that aren't really that important. making moeny is important. pretending to look after the underdog is important. i warn you now, get you kids out of school as soon as you can. my friend has a 4 year old and the teacher told him off because he's taught his child how to write her name. like he wasn't alowed to. fucking rubbish. get them out of school, teach them yourself. ask them to question, not conform.

TV makes people stupid. what did you do last night? oh i sat and watched..... yada yada yada. wherever i've worked, almost every conversation started with "did you see...?" when they get to me they stop. and all of a sudden they can't seem to say anything to me. i know, i'll say, we'll have a conversation: what do you think about the lack of support temporary staff get? and they look at me like i'm growing a penis out of my eye and get on with "well, what happened in Dallas/Neighbours/Eastend ers/etc was brilliant..." and i lapse into a silent dispair.

then, after a while, i get admiration... WOW i wish i could do that.not live with a TV you must do loads of cool stuff. yes i do. and so can you--just fucking do it. get a brick. insert it in the middle of the box that has the sport on until it crackles into silence and go and bang on you neighbours door asking if they want to go for a coffee. trouble is, they won't answer the door until the commercials are on. fuckers.

we're in a scary stage of the world where people think that everything is fun and cool and funky, but it will only take a little scratch to let out the sub-surface rot and make us all go septic. the trick is not stopping it from happening, the trick is spotting WHEN it happens and getting the fuck outa Dodge.

well... look on the right hand column under 'free stuff' and you'll see a little tag called: Twin Speaks [mp3]. Yup... another tune i faffed about a bit. a bit more upbeat than the other one, but i kinda like it. and i hope you do too. yeah.

just caught up w/ loads of mates on gmail. was cool. lots of people doing unusual things which is always what i like to hear. one of them has decided to join an unusual cult involving how to fight with axes. another one has bought her own speedboat and decided to wear a hat AT ALL TIMES. then there's whats-her-face who's now in Taiwan teaching taiwanese the basic grammar facts of english. and attempting to drink the island dry in a vain attempt to hold off SARS.

i haven't been out into town for a while, and today, circumstances led me to catch a bus [car is fucked and at the doctor's] stopping off in town where i fled to the nearest bookshop to lurk in fiction. lurking in fiction is something i could do ALL THE TIME.

anyway's the city that i live in is full of homeless vagrants. full. brimming. they're not really sleep-on-the-streets homeless, they're more like going-back-to-local-autho rity-hostels homeless and they're all on smack. a generalisation, but having worked once in a local authority i'm standing by my generalisation.

so b/ween stepping off the bus and entering the bookshop [a total distance of 300 yards] i was stopped for change FIVE TIMES. my replies went along the lines of:

"no, sorry love."

"no"

"why?"

"sod off"

--blanked--

it's just really annoying.

so.... another day of avoiding to write my synopsis which has been planned to complete 01/10. something has come along which is more important and has to be done by the day before. THEN i'm gonna have to work on it. so, i'm already behind schedule and i haven't started writing.

plus, i've bought a book about william burroughs which is so beautifully designed that i had to have it. "The Priest they call Him, the life and the legacy of William S Burroughs". so i am with book now...

bo selector!

okay, there's the text adventure which has been more sexed up than a MP press relief. and it's all natty and flash. plus all you need to know:  http://www.bbc.co.uk/radio4/hitchhikers/gam e.shtml" title="http://www.bbc.co.uk/radio4/hitchhikers/gam e.shtml" target="_blank"http://www.bbc.co.uk/radio4/h...

plus the BBC actually have the guide for everybody here: http://www.bbc.co.uk/dna/h2g2/DontPanic-Tou r" title="http://www.bbc.co.uk/dna/h2g2/DontPanic-Tou r" target="_blank"http://www.bbc.co.uk/dna/h2g2...

woman
look, come down from there.

man
no. i can't. i have to stay up here.

woman
come down this instance. i've got dinner on the go.

man
no.

woman
bloody men, you're all the same. stubborn fools.

man
you don't understand, this is something i have to do.

woman
oh shush with your 'i have to do this'. you're just trying to show off to your two disreputable friends up there with you.

man
mary, you just don't understand. its like... well... my father told me to.

woman
what? if your father told you to kill yourself for the sake of humankind, you'd go off and do it?

man
i... er... sort of have to.

woman
jesus christ! what do you mean you have to? look, i know the police banged you up a bit for causing all that trouble, but they've gone now. if you come down i'll have a look at that cut and make sure it doesn't look like they've tried to remove your appendix. please? for me? it's easter for crying out loud!

man
mary, i'm sorry. me and these two are gonna have to stay up here until dad calls. then i'm gonna have to chip off for a couple of days so don't bother getting me any chocolate eggs.

woman
you're not gonna leave me here alone over easter?

man
i've got to. i'll tell you what, meet me on monday in that cave of by the garden. i'll tell you all about it then.

woman
but--

man
sorry, my dear... i've gotta go. i can hear dad. boy is he gonna be pissed.

so what's it all about then? how does this world work? i, like so many other people, am so preoccupied with myself that i'm not looking around to see the big picture. let me explain:

i'm farting around trying to plan a synposis for a 95,000 word novel. no biggie. it just takes a long time staring at blank pages, empty screens. it means that you fuck about on the internet a lot. but at some point, eventually, hopefully, you will end up with a vague plan for a story that you can sit down and scribble away at.

i've had this idea for a story, a pretty good one too--i think. i've [so far] spent about 2 weeks polishing, sorting, changing, fucking about with and generally making pretty the synposis for this story. with the plan of writing word 1 on 1st october and word 95,000 on christmas eve.

that's the plan.

except i keep coming pack to this other story about 2 guys in a pub who are trying to sort their lives out. then one day shit happens and they're off... on a grand adventure.

and it's not planned. i'm not angonising over what they do or why they do it. i write a couple of pages once in a while and then come back to it and write a couple more. nothing may come of it. but it's fun. one day i may stop and have a novel to play about with. or not.

so you see... if i was concentrating hard enough, would i see a sign in this. a message from destiny or who/whatever saying "dmk... that book you're planning... it's whack... write the one about the 2 drunk guys... it'll make you famous." or can i? do i have to interepret messages into everything? will this ultimately make a difference to whatever i do? am i thinking too hard about things? should i go and have a lie down?

y'know?

...and i thought i was getting better. so, for the 2nd time this week; back to the doctors. he keeps giving me these drugs whose side effects are exactly the same as the symptoms i'm trying to get rid of. where's the fun in that? i just want to be off my rocker for a while. consider it a small break from reality where i can come back refreshed and in fine fettle.

just cooked myself a MASSIVE chili. i can smell it from here. i rate chili. i big it up. yeah.

what else is new? not much really... reading hitch-hikers guide to the galaxy [book 2] and the golden bough pretty much at the same time. i'm always reading lots of books at once. that just means that when i look back from the future i can imagine more stories than i've read. like that one about a hobbit with a magic ring that has 24 hours to save the president's life. or something.

question: chalk or cheese?

yeah well, ummm..... like, kewl 'n' that. so i done nothing today and that's kewl. i spoke to a girl and that was like bogus and yyyyyeeeeeaaaahhhhhhhhhhh h thought i'd blog, like, nothing. kewl.

this is an example of what rather annoys me. why bother? i did nothing apart from: get stiffed by the bank, shout at people i barely know [this is a hobby of mine], start feeling ill again, heard the NEW SERIES of hitch-hikers guide to the galaxy radio play, ate a chinese meal, battened down the hatches ready for the cold spell, felt a bit pukey, did some writing, designed a friend's CV [resume for those across the hurricane highway], reported a car outside my house as stolen so the cops would come and remove it, tried to learn the rules of poker, saw Better off Dead [John Cusack--very, very funny in an 80's kinda way], sulked because tom waits is playing soon and i can't go see him, tried to see the back of my skull by staring through my eyes in the mirror, rummaged through garbage and talked to myself.

all in all, a busy day.

question: firm or fruity?

turns out that the wedding was just the reception. and a hog roast. spent the afternoon picking crackling off a carcass and drinking fruit juice with strangers.

as you do.

like frantic ants, we scurry
to make right
for the gentlemen of the board.
superficial cleanliness, chaos ordered
we sacrifice identity,
indulge in hunger
for a rose-tinted view
of 'should be'.
no warts-and-all for them.
the drones in their infinite capacity, lie
to corporate royalty,
to pacify and herd
through the illusion.
like children on trains
heading east.

© 2004 dmk23

i used to work in this office where the managers would freak the fuck out whenever the leadership team started sniffing around. used to make all sorts of outrageous claims on mere staff so THEIR bosses didn't know they were incompetent at their jobs. it made me emotional enough to write poetry.

so. here i am again. pretending to write. i got just under 2 weeks to sort my writing plan out before settling down for my seasonal writing thing. ho hum... it'll happen, just slowly. very slowly.

what is new in the world of dmk? not much.... listening to a band called Mum, they're chilled and bleepy, was listening to Kyuss earlier [as one does].

lovely sunny day, am off to friends house by the seaside this afternoon for an evening of sunsets [well, just the one] on theis beautiful day. it's a happyfaceday today

tomorrow i think i'm going to a wedding. not really sure. it's near a massive hill that juts out of a plain and can be seen for miles around. hope its not at the top. might be windy.

and no, i'm not going to orthanc.

thought for the day: why is it that everybody knows the rules to poker, but when you get together nobody can remember them properly? discuss.

feels like tblog has been down for DAYS. never mind, eh? plenty more fish in the sea. loads more eggs in the chicken. 

i have issues w/ authority, i.e. i cannot take advice, direction, instruction or commands from anybody i believe to be inferior to me. or i have no respect for. this has been a problem in previous jobs i've had. there was this manager that couldn't spell, had terrible grammar, smelt, thought she was 'all that, sister' and did my fucking dome in. one day, i proofread her email, corrected themany, many errors in it and mailed it back to her. she replied in kind and showed me this qickest way out of the office and relieved me of my ID pass.

the thing about wizards is that whatever they can create must come from somewhere. if energy cannot be created nor destroyed, logic dictates that the thaumaturgists amongst us transmutesenergy into something else. so if your common and garden Tree Mage summons up a puppy to appease a small crying latino girl, somewhere in the cosmos a small puppy's worth of energy must be accounted for and thus be removed from where it was to where there is now a small golder retriever wagging its tail next to a small puddle of wee. but what/who chooses where the energy is exchanged from? it's certainly not the magician; all he is skilled at is creating a puppy out of energy, not where the energy comes from. somebody/thing else does it.  this has led to a lot of people believing that this is the proof of a god's existence.

today's mood: thoughtful, yet rambling. i'd blame it on the boogie if i were you.

Interesting... game based on the concept of terrorism: http://www.newsgaming.com/games/index12.htm" title="http://www.newsgaming.com/games/index12.htm" target="_blank"http://www.newsgaming.com/gam...

comments?

in with the out crowd
sucking up big time
big hair airheads
mother fucking greed heads
drop dead vampires
"hasn't he his mothers eyes?"
shadows and lipsticks
your pale pout makes me sick
black khol
black dreads
make-up on you black heads
spin on the dancefloor
tragic fucking eyesore
corsets
fat tits
snakebite and black fits
feminine boyfriends
angst assisted suicide
bitch about the Sisters and "I was there in '85"

fang biting
gob shiting
amateur dicks
nosferatu wannabee's need another speed fix
paradise lost?
they never fucking found it

UV
ECT
M fucking TV
pierced face
pierced head
pierced 'till they're brain dead
bauhaus
arthaus
hardware
wetware
can't cope won't cope
all of life's one fucking joke

"i'm not the same, i'm different yes?
i'm unique like all the rest."

Manson is as Manson does
fuck the man you think you love
rock star
porn star
anti-fucking-superstar
you wanna be a Lost Boy?
i don't fucking think so
on my fingers
on my toes
count the drugs gone up my nose
slash my wrists and count the rings
the time has come for beat up things
La Vey
James Ray
tarot readings
night and day
obsessive
depressive
subculture whores
Lovecraft
witchcraft
hide your life behind a mask 

"but she said she loved me
how could she have done this?"
with some pills and razor-blades
and a fucking death wish 

hang yourself in a big black cloth
you're all the same
bleeding goths

© 1998 dmk23

i wrote this a few years back as i was giving up on being a goth. to depressing. wanted to be a little 'crazy' a little 'wacky'. and i was. now i'm a well-adjusted non-conforming enemy of society. it's for the better. think if the damage i could cause on the inside.

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v326/dmk23/pro ductive_day.jpg" title="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v326/dmk23/pro ductive_day.jpg" target="_blank"http://img.photobucket.com/al...

From: dmk
Subject: The Five (5) Excellences
Date: Sept 04

------------------------- ---

I've just found out that a friend of mine has started going to church.  a hard-drinking, chain-smoking, drug-taking lunatic musician has found God.  don't get me wrong, i love the guy.  lived with him for 2 years, but now he's renting out to God.  And he's all the better for it.

Me? i don't believe in God.  To me, he is a reason. an excuse to fight wars.  the justification that the jihad is the right thing to do.  they have the highest authority.  whether it be god, allah, kali, Microsoft or Papa Legba, the deity is the highest authority.  and if he/she/it/they say lock and load, who are we to argue with what created us?

other people have spiritual paths, reasons for doing what they do.  a path is like a map to your life, gives indicators to how you act, marks out your background, what your alignments is.  i worked out a long time ago that i am Chaotic Good--i have my own ethical code of what is good and what is evil and i live by them, not the rules that another has decided is right and wrong.

i read a book once (just the one), by a pop-guru called Stephen, about something the ancient chinese used to do, something called the five (5) Excellences.

the way it works is this: there are five (5) Excellences, or skills if you wish, you will ever need.  with these skill you will be able to live, thrive, and survive in ancient china.  the good thing is, it's just as valuable today as it was when the Warring States were inventing cavalry.  with these five (5) skills you have almost total control over your life, and you have experience in all the necessary areas of life for health, wealth and success.

you wanna know the secret?  give me five (5) pounds and i'll tell you.  whoops, David Koresh eat your heart out.  give me your money, sell me your souls, take these little red pills and we'll all go play with the great godhead in the sky.

Martial Art
Meditation
Healing
Composition
Presentation

That's it.  as long as you excel in all these areas, you will go a long way.  think about it.  martial arts: gives you protection, trains you to be dedicated, gets you healthy.  plus you have the self confidence when walking down the dark streets of Fallowfield and knowing that you can fend off any punk that takes a dislike to you face.  that's a good skill to have.

Meditation.  its not just some hippyshit.  the brain is awake and babbling all the time, when you're asleep it frantically tries to sort itself out, often leading to you having that 'naked at graduation' dream again.  meditation is like that little button on your computer that starts it again when you get the blue screen of death.  only it takes a little longer.  and is more difficult.  but it has been found to have healing qualities, calms you, gets your rocks off, fills you shoes with gold, wipes your credit card bills and puts naked playboy bunnies in your bed.

so, after having the crap kicked out of you, and having meditated upon the fact that you really shouldn't have tried to take on that hockey team whilst under the influence of a fat amounts of Jack Daniels, you're gonna need to mop up the blood.  so, go on a St. John's ambulance course.  it's useful, you can patch people up, looks good on a CV, excellent.  or you could train as some weird therapist.  a masseuse, reiki healer, you could hook lie detectors up to people to wipe their negative engrams, you could wave your hands over people's bodies and hum the evil out.  there are as many alternative therapies in the world as there have been members of Hawkwind.

Composition?  the ability to create something, a work of art, a musical, a piece of fiction, poetry, will carry you a long, long way.  the composition or organization of people, places and things.  excelling at this is the key to another excellence.

and finally, presentation.  the art of composing can only be enhanced with your presentation skills. giving a speech, or a presentation, reading the poetry you've written, how you put forward your ideas, how you advertise your internet business.  all examples of presentation.

it's not a religion, it's barely a spiritual path, but its something that could hold you in good stead in this world of chaos.  and if it all goes wrong, the survivors can walk the ruins of this blasted world exchanging healing for food, teaching martial arts for shelter and singing songs because the TV's don't work.