Archive for the ‘Reblogs & Links (i.e. other peoples’ stuff)’ Category

SMELLY TONGUES

For almost 15 fucking years now, I have been listening to one bunch of dopey bastards after another gibber and squawk about refugees or asylum seekers and boats and “illegals” and I’m fucking fed up to the fucking back teeth with it all.

There has been no discussion. There has been no debate. A conversation has not been had.

A “policy” has been Frankenstein’d into being at the behest of 60% of Australians who “want the Abbott government [and the three governments before it] to “increase the severity of the treatment of asylum seekers”, because that, and that alone gnaws at the very core of their being, day after day, month after month, minute by minute – in the home, the workplace, the pub, the coffee shop, every day is a Bad Day at Black Rock, there be strangers comin’ to town, and pokin’ their noses…

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This song got me home on my jog through the hills of Cipaku this morning, my own personal film clip. It seemed to match my mood and the setting I was in quite well.
Hazy, smoky, grey and smoggy, jogging past where all of Cipaku’s rubbish is piled, set alight to send more clouds of toxic smoke into the air.
Past all the fancy new townhouses and mansions under construction up near Jalan Bukit Idaman.
It won’t be long until it’s transformed from a relatively pleasant place to exercise – vacant grassy lots and empty roads – to just another patch of suburbia, full of McMansions and hundreds of good little SUV-driving consumers. And I am doing nothing to help this situation.

Although, I don’t have an SUV…

I only have vague memories of the Challenger disaster. I have very clear memories of being haunted by it though.
This track, along with the archival footage – watching the final moments of the seven astronauts – gives me serious goosebumps. I find it both disturbingly morbid and fascinatingly beautiful all at the same time.

It would appear Seekae are fond of disturbingly morbid film clips though. If you dare, watch this.

“We don’t read: we skim, parse, bookmark, copy, paste, and forward. We become information hoarders and amateur archivists who frantically collect, store, and move artifacts that we’ll never interact with.”

Read the full article here: http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/books/2013/10/the-writer-as-meme-machine-how-has-the-internet-altered-poetry.html