VSX, A shadowy flight into the dangerous world of a man who does not exist: Starbuck Powersurge - a young loner on a crusade to champion the cause of Viper Squad Ten, a long-disbanded group of stranded timetravelling troubadours, formed to help finance repairs to their time-machine. Now very much stuck in C21...
All text is copyright the Viper Squad Ten blog team 2003-2006 unless otherwise quoted or credited. If we've not credited you properly, please let me know. Throw us a link if you're desperate enough to use this guff...
Life, the universe, and everything update.
No time for grandiloquent effusions of consciousness as I'm still suffering from a complete lack of home internet. Nope, in the meantime I shall have to restrict my units of language to the barest of bones... so here's some sketched thoughts for ya.
The house move went more smoothly than I could believe, despite the best efforts of the bank that likes to think big. Now we're just stuck with the daunting task of cleaning up the old place.
Wonderfully it feels like a long-lived home already. And what a difference from the old place. The floor space of our living room is probably bigger than the floor space in the entirety of our rented accommodation. And nice deep-pile carpets... no film of mildew coating everything... lush! The only thing I would swap with our old place would be the toilet bowl (this new one has a greater splash-back factor, and is more prone to the accretion of passing faeces.) I've even got over my dependency on electric fan & skylight sleep-aids.
Live review - Lee Mack - a very good stand-up comedian, and undisputed king of the one-liner (it says here). Funny, quick-witted and very responsive to input from the audience. One of the best. However unlike most live gigs I've seen, I can't quite recall what any of it was actually ABOUT (aside from the bit where a piece of gaffer-tape falling from the ceiling caught the crowd's rapt attention)... A great night, however - the warm memory glow of being thoroughly entertained persists, even with the details faded...
TV review - despite the what my co-editor has previously said about it, Hyperdrive continues to be most chucklesome. Just listen to my wife - when I asked her opinion last night, she said it was "quite good actually".
BB review - I actually welled-up with tears twice watching the Celebrity Big Brother final on Friday - once for Chantelle, and once for Barrymore, soft piece of shite that I am. Best BB ever!
Apologies - to all those in blog-land, whose own words of wit and wisdom I've been unable to enrich my own life with. You know who you are. You're in my dreams. Nearly.
Now that they're running their own servers within China, at least the common Chinese searcher (not operating under a proxy connection) is told when the results from their search terms have been restricted due to political and legal reasons.
Surely much better than quietly dropping them. It may be CENSORSHIP, but at least it's the sort of CENSORSHIP that activates an enquiring mind, CENSORSHIP that undermines as opposed to conceals.
And looking at Google.cn a few things will always slip through the net...
Goodbye rented accommodation...
I have now just about woken up for the final time under the glorious skylight of our simple rented home. Woken up with the inspiration, forged in my dreams, that the human awaking from sleep is just like an orange. The peel of sleep is removed, and a entirely new existence of being emerges, with just a few bits of pith remaining.
I've been very active in my dreams recently. Memories of last night focus on the move, but I've covered all sorts of ground recently, it all starting a week ago with a close-escape at a sleep-time Derren Brown live show where he nearly surreptitiously hypnotised the entire audience (until I realised I was already dreaming and that it might be dangerous being self-hynpnotised whilst asleep...)
In the first sentence I described the skylight as glorious, but it was fairly nondescript both this morning (flat grey light) and last night (inky blackness - no stars, no watercolour blur of reflected streetlight), which is perhaps for the best.
I experienced a few financial fluctuations this weekend as we set about arranging the transfer of funds to the solicitors. I can't describe the joy I felt as I re-calculated my savings to find fourteen grand that I'd thought I didn't have (and that I immediately started planning for). And the inevitable crash to earth as I recalculated it out of existence again!
Anyway, enough for now - no time to sit (stand) here in front of the computer when I've got packing to do. And certainly no time for any work-in-progress photos - more to come soon!
Preparatory thinking for the imminent house move
We signed the documents last night, so it's full steam ahead, iceburg-permitting. The good ship Powersure should dock at it's new berth next week! Yip yip yip!
There now follows a few reminder notes for myself:
Must remember how to use public transport - I've been spoilt by town-centre living for too long
Although I've grown accustomed to our pet fungal spores, we don't want to blight our sparkling new abode with mould and mildew - SPRAY EVERYTHING. Including self. Will Self.
Must adapt sleeping patterns to remove reliance on skylight in the twin processes of falling to sleep at night and waking up properly in the morning
Must also remove reliance on the relaxing sound of electric fans to submerge my thought patterns below the delta waves of sleep. Like static charge drawn to a spike, fan blades are a magnet for mildew, and are also a rather effective means of it's dissemination.
Narrowband is rrrrubish - install broadband or cable at new house
Hoarding is not an option - decades-old magazines are heavy. And mould lives off the dead paper matter.
A change is as good as a rest.
Best to pack everything before the morning of the move.
If we hire a removal company, check the names of those involved. Avoid those that employ people with surnames "Chuckle" or "Spencer".
Norton Shistem Works. Doesn't.
Fucking Symantec. Fucking pre-installed OEM software. Norton Internet Security 2005 to be precise.
Whilst round my parents last night, I got so frustrated with NIS preventing installation of Google Earth and Firefox (either separately or as part of the Google Pack) that I thought sod it, I won't further stall uninstalling the bloated piece of shiteware. The firewall was working so well that it wouldn't let me see the programmes, and the Integrator would crash every bleedin' time I tried to add the executables. Or something.
And then the bastard broken thing failed to remove itself.
It's as if the majority of those learning to drive are given by default the free use of a rusty old Robin Reliant to get to grips with driving. Upon passing their test they will be allowed to keep it for a few months, despite it having a wrought iron anchor tied to the car's frame scraping along behind. Oh, and the electrics manage to cut out every journey, the mirrors are distorted, and there's a pissed-off gorilla on the back-seat.
Not forgetting that all other car's are far superior "stealth" cars like in Die Another Day or Street Fighter The Movie (but not so boat-like) so you can't see what you're missing. But after a few months, the angry scary gorilla starts demanding money, threatening to rip the doors off and allow in the hungry malarial mosquitos (did I mention the hungry malarial mosquitos?)
And since the motoring industry wanted was in the pocket of the gorilla (do gorilla's have pockets) they have kept secret the fact that DaimlerChrysler are willing to hand out freebie Dodge Vipers willy-nilly to anyone who asks.
Yes, that's exactly what it's like.
Anyway, I'm double-angry now, having wasted all this time writing about it. There's changes afoot Chez Starbuck after all...
An Open Letter to the Editor
Happy New Year one and all, and specifically to my illustrious leader, who has (whether by act or omission) granted me continued sub-posty-person status into 2006. And regretful belated happy birthdays to him too. He remembered mine, I didn't (quite) remember his. At least not when I should have done.
So, 2006 eh? New house for him, hopefully new house for me. Certainly a year of big change, but more on that nearer the time.
Anyway, Mr Powersurge, the nation (i.e. me) awaits full lists and reviews of what you actually received in the musicy filmy arena for Christmas. I know what you asked for not what you got.
Ever since watching Derren Brown - The Heist on Channel 4 last Wednesday, I've had "Can You Feel It" by the Jackson Five (or rather, The Tamperer featuring Maya and "Feel It") rattling constantly round my mind, along with the urge to hold up security vans.
I was thinking about going to see the scary-bearded mind-melder on his "Something Wicked..." tour, however I think I'd be too worried.
You see, the ballroom-dancing ex-law-student hypnotised me 14 years ago, back when he was a hypnotist called Darren V Brown. Myself and others got up on stage and, in order to test our pliability, were persuaded that we were in a number situations standard to stage hynotists. I'm perhaps a bit hypersuggestible (or maybe I was just a drunk), but I ended up getting taken off stage and "relaxed" when I got a bit agitated (the "freezing cold" suggestion bleeding over into the subsequent "racing driver" suggestion).
It's actually very nice being relaxed by Derren Brown. Maybe I was at an impressionable age and he's now seeded my psyche with his evil intentions on making me his love-slave. That would explain why he reminds me of Richard O'Brien, in face and in voice. If I was a lady or a gay non-lady I would think of them both of cutie-pies. Bloody hypnotists.
So for this reason, I don't think I'll go and see him on tour. I don't want to be his hypno-bitch.
Good showman, all the same. And respect to anyone who shows up the reality behind magicians, mind-readers, spoon-benders, spiritualists (of all religions and none), politicians, and their ilk.
Cat litter furniture
I was just looking for comedy kitten photos, as you do, but rather than grabbing something from b3ta, I found something all the more scary, it being TRUE.
My brother in law's got 11 housecats (as opposed to the garden variety), so I know what he'll be getting for Christmas for evermore. They even have dog-proof vertical-drop entrance models - those Catbox people have thought of everything!
Over the Winter holidays I watched a lot of television. So I thought I'd formulate as in-depth a chart rundown as I can muster:
1: Doctor Who Christmas special (reviewed just t'other day for your delight).
2: The Return of the Goodies. Fantasticly funny and visually-inventive (to my nostalgic old eyes), and as reported on The Goodies Rule-OK website, it got a fair portion of the available audience, despite the Beeb not having repeated any episodes for 25 years (and Christ, that shows my age!)
I remember the lovely 3rd daughter revelling in the joy of their tour of Australia the other year, and I nearly got a flight down under right there and then (note: falsehood). Still, I've just added the DVDs to my extensive Amazon wishlist, so I'll just have to cross my fingers this time next year...