concepts for a buntiful world
Friday, December 22
It's rapidly approaching the time
when I do a post full of pictures, because I feel I should post and yet having to stamp round endless fucking shops playing endless "Best of Christmas Hits" and being rammed in the shins by mothers who have insisted on taking their triplet-prams shopping to boutique shops in Richmond that can only fit three people at a time, except for during Christmas where suddenly they have twice as much expensive shite and ninety eight people in them at once.

It's like orgies in ancient Rome only less fun and with fewer Christians. So I'm trying a combination this year. I have four pictures to post. Some of which will mean nothing to you, others of which I hope will make your ears bleed.

London has been in the grip of a fog for the past week or so, it has descended over the capital, blanketing its bustling streets with a peaceful quality entirely inappropriate to the hectic evil rush to buy things that is going on beneath it's quiet embrace. It does, however, in addition to freezing your face off, make it feel quite Christmassey. Like Jack the Ripper, who murdered prostitutes in the pea soupers of his time, (can you say... Ipswich) it makes me want to go and cut people's heads off. Although that's not really the fog, that's the people.

Anyway - I found a card, and I bought it. "Hold on" I can hear you saying, "A card?... This man must be crazy!"

No. I bought it for myself. It's an Edward Monckton card. I like his designs, the madness mice are creatures I have been afraid of since I was very young, and who out of all who have lived with a woman can doubt the shoe of loveliness. This one, however, has a different message.

Killing people is a good idea. Funny, even. Now there have been people in history who have espoused this theory, only they're all either dead, or in prison for war crimes. Except for Bush, Blair and Pinochet, who for reasons unknown to me have got away with it. I find this card funny, and blackly appropriate for my Christmas mood, especially after the tech week I've been through, but why do other people find it funny? When I make jokes like this people look at me and shake their heads as if to say, "You'll be burning in hell for that one you unfunny twat." but this is being mass marketed! I'm impressed and horrified in equal measure.

This is a picture of a web ad - I don't know what for, I don't notice web ads any more. What they don't realise is that many people (myself included) will actively boycott company's using intrusive advertising. While I regularly stock up on bootleg viagra from the public spirited people who sell it over 'the hotmail farmacy' I will not buy from intrusive web advertisiers. Coupled to that is the fact that we are becoming so saturated with adverts that we no longer take them in. Often I watch ads on tv and think, "That was a good ad." to myself (sad, I know) but then realise that actually, technically, it wasn't a good ad at all, because despite the beautiful camera work and fantastic storyboarding, I have no idea what it was trying to sell me. By contrast, I find myself unable to shake the name of Halifax from my head after watching their appalling adverts with that speccy twat and their cringworthy attempts to make themselves 'hip' but will NEVER EVER bank with them on account of their advertising. Make note, advertisers - a bad advert will do you as much damage if not more than a good one does you help.

Anyway, back to the eyes. They're mine. Not the scabby skin in the middle, the man clearly has a vitamin deficiency, probably B or D I would say, and I would be interested to know what the rest of his face looks like, because his eyes look exactly like mine, and I can say with authority. Yes, they are the eyes of a madman.

I did art yesterday.

And I read ebaumsworld

As a technician, working with gaffer tape a lot, this looks like a quality idea. I think with holes in the approriate places you could bring a child up this way - you'd always know where they were, no worries of them picking things up and putting into their mouths, or of throwing their toys to the floor over and over again.

I also found a good alternative to a Christmas tree. I'm allergic to Christmas trees. It could be psychosomatic, or it could be a hangover from being dragged round for walks in pine forests - the dullest kind of forest - in my youth. I think this is a cool idea, and I think that I may try and institute as a tradition for myself and the Brunette that we try and find a different way to represent a Christmas tree each year.

So I''ll be leaving you to your festivities now.
- posted by Buntifer @ 12/22/2006 04:45:00 pm
Thursday, December 21
Christ Mess
Welcome to the first day of my Hannukkah Holiday.

My plans for having a pleasant time off entirely alone having been scuppered by farces beyond my control, I am preparing for rental influx. I have wrapped all my presents (I think) and I have ignored tidying almost completely.

I have managed not to call any of the people on my "to call" list, but I did buy a brush and dustpan this morning, so the kitchen is a bit cleaner.

For the past four days I've been working on a get in, thirteen hour days and precious little thanks from Directors. Apparently "he couldn't fault us" and our work had been, "not bad." Well thanks. Thanks very much.

I have to finish a short story, and do more washing - so I must rush. The glamour of my life is getting to me.
- posted by Buntifer @ 12/21/2006 03:15:00 pm
Tuesday, December 12
I have news!
In quick reference to my last post - I'm not technically an arms dealer, I just sell them to kids. And my Dad is not a spy, no metter what Mr Goulden says. (And frankly old boy, I'd be very careful - termination with extreme discretion is the speciality of the house)

I entered a short story competition a while back, over at Mr Skintwriter's house.

And he's just published a shortlist of stories:

in alphabetical order

* Angus by Kenneth Shand
* Escape From Suffering by Peter Caunt
* Full of Grace by Polyphiloprogenitive
* Snow by John T Ahearn
* The Execution of Jimmy Crow by DBA Lehane
* Therefore I am by Theonlygolux

and you may notice me there at the bottom, masquerading as theonlygolux in the world, and not a mere device. Also not number three, Ms Philogrogenitive writing about what it's like to be her. (heh)

Links to the stories are over at Skint's site if you are interested enough to read them. You may also be able to vote (or in fact nominate,) so please do so. Not necessarily for me - but nominate nonetheless - the more the merrier.

Goodbye for now.
- posted by Buntifer @ 12/12/2006 07:31:00 pm
Wednesday, December 6
I love my job

- posted by Buntifer @ 12/06/2006 07:00:00 pm
Friday, December 1
I've finished Nano. Now there's just one more thing to say.

- posted by Buntifer @ 12/01/2006 07:41:00 pm

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