arto_the_temulent's Xanga

Top 10 Aphex Twin:

Mon, 02 Jun 2008 23:04:01 GMT

01: 4
02: Come To Daddy
03: Avril 14th
04: Girl/Boy Song
05: Steppingfilter 101
06: Flim
07: To Cure A Weakling Child (Contour Regard)
08: Mt St. Michel
09: Ventolin
10: At The Heart Of It All

Hey, so I'm a rock star. We're gigging Leeds, Nottingham, Edinburgh, London. There's something amazing about following your life long dream and doing it well. Very well.

Dubmonkey be with you...

roflsocks

Fri, 02 May 2008 16:52:18 GMT

http://www.maniacworld.com/most-annoying-runner-ever.html

10.0

George entered the office, timidly.

Wed, 16 Apr 2008 16:16:56 GMT

He was hanging half inside the room, half out.

"Sir..." He began, and stopped as Mr Purves looked up with a start.

"George! Good afternoon."

"You, you wanted to see me, sir?" Asked George, his face betraying a slight touch of apprehension.

Mr Purves looked a little confused for a second, then it dawned on him, "Ah, yes! Please come in, take a seat."

George's polished shoes squeaked as he slowly walked along the clean, soft carpet. The office was pristine; Not a mark or scratch on anything, all surfaces were gleaming with a sheen that comes only from a daily cleaning ritual. There was a picture of a ship in a storm out at sea, several potted plants, and right at the end was a huge Mahogany desk, behind which sat Mr Purves, who was in the process of preparing and lighting a cigar. George pulled out a soft leather chair from under the desk and sat down.

"Cigar?" Offered Mr Purves.

"Well, I..."

"They're Cuban!" Interrupted Mr Purves.

"No thank you, I don't smoke, sir." Said George.

"Good man! These things'll knock years off your life, turn your lungs black." The air of small talk lifted as Mr Purves put on a more serious tone, "Tell me, George. How long have you been working for me?"

"Well it must be about... 7 years. Yes, 7 years."

"Ah yes! But still a young man, I daresay!"

"Yes, well, I turn 29 this year, sir."

Mr Purves smiled. "And no doubt you get up to some capers, don't you, my boy!"

"Well, I... I'm not much of a partier, I do like a quiet evening in and..." George trailed off as Mr Purves interrupted him.

"You know," Began Mr Purves, getting up out of his chair, and wistfully walking around his office, cigar in hand, seemingly studying his bookshelves, "I was a bit of a hell raiser like you when I was a young man, George. Yes, I know, hard to believe, isn't it! I was a raver; a partier. I did it all, sex, drugs, rock and roll. The women were flying at me from all angles, the drugs were flowing. But I left all of that behind, to pursue a simple life, a life dedicated to chastity, honesty, sobriety, and business." He returned to his seat, and sat down once more.

"But. There is something I still do from time to time. A hangover from my errant youth." He stopped, and stared at George for a few seconds.

"Oh, uh, yes?" Mumbled George, who had become increasingly aware of Mr Purves' apparent drunkenness.

Mr Purves sat and smiled, silently nodding his head.

"Benelux." He said, then continued, "Have you ever heard of Benelux, George?"

George thought for a few seconds. "Sir, are you perhaps referring to the now informal trading partnership between Belgium, The Netherlands and Luxembourg, established in September 1944, that facilitated easy pooling of the three countries resources and monetary wealth?"

"No." Replied Mr Purves, "No, that is indeed one meaning of the word. But there is another. What I am referring to is the solution known as Benelux Solution."

George frowned, his knowledge conflicting with that of Mr Purves.

"Sir, surely you are confusing this with Benedict's Solution, sometimes called 'Benedict's Reagent,' a chemical solution comprised of a mixture of sodium carbonate, sodium citrate and copper sulphate, used to detect reducing sugars or monosaccharides in food. It can also be used to detect the presence of glucose in urine as a way of diagnosing diabetes mellitus. Interestingly, the solution can sometimes produce an incorrect result when confronted with sucrose. Sucrose, which is commonly referred to as table sugar, in fact actually contains two sugars (fructose and glucose) joined by their glycosidic bond in such a way as to prevent the glucose isomerizing to aldehyde, or the fructose to alpha-hydroxy-ketone form. Sucrose is thus a non-reducing sugar which does not react with Benedict's reagent. Sucrose indirectly produces a positive result with Benedict's reagent if heated with dilute hydrochloric acid prior to the test, although after this treatment it is no longer sucrose. Surely, you are not referring to such a solution?"

"No. For such a solution would kill a man, if taken intravenously. I am talking of Benelux Solution, a concoction 14 times more potent than amphetamines and 3,000 times as addictive as heroin. It is the only drug I still indulge in."

"Up until a few years ago, I was able to take this drug on a whim. But, my hands are old, and frail. I can no longer operate the plunger."

George suddenly noticed a syringe on a shiny metal plate on the desk.

"Usually I would get Rosalind, my P.A to help with administering the Benelux, but she has gone to Mablethorpe for a holiday. I had to find someone I trusted to dose me. This is why I chose you, George."

"I'm sorry sir, I don't quite follow what you're..."

"The needle is ready." Mr Purves began rolling up his sleeves, slowly.

"Come. Inject me."

It's just coincidence that oil men would wage war on an oil rich land.

Sat, 05 Apr 2008 11:49:59 GMT

So here's the plan: The ides of march are always at hand. And when the power hungry strike, they strike the poorest of man. And if you dare put up a fight, they'll come and fight for your land. And they'll call it liberation or salvation. A call to the youth! Your freedom ain't so free, it's just loose. but the power of your voice could redirect every truth. Shift and shape the world you want and keep your fears in a noose. Let them dangle from a banner star spangled. I'm willing and able. To lift my dreams up out of their cradle. Nurse and nurture my ideals 'til they're much more than a fable. I can be all I can be and do much more than I'm paid to. And I won't be a slave to what authorities say do. My desire is to live within a nation on fire, where creative passions burn and raise the stakes ever higher. Where no person is addicted top some twisted supplier who promotes the sort of freedom sold to the highest buyer. We demand a truth naturally at one with the land, not a plant that photosynthesizes bombs on demand, or a search for any weapons we let fall from our hands. I got beats and a plan. I'm gonna do what I can. And what you do is question everything they say do, every goal ideal or value they keep pushing on you. If they ask you to believe it question whether it's true. If they ask you to achieve, is it for them or for you. You're the one they're asking to go carry a gun. Warfare ain't humanitarian. You're scaring me, son! Why not fight to feed the homeless, jobless, fight inflation?! Why not fight for our own healthcare and our education?! And instead, invest in that erasable lead, 'cause their twisted propaganda can't erase all the dead. And the pile of corpses pyramid on top of our heads. Or nevermind, said the shotgun to the head...

Top ten things

Sat, 01 Mar 2008 20:05:37 GMT

'Cos it's been a while:

01: Friendship.
02: Love.
03: Truth.
04: L.S.D.
05: Noel Gallagher's outro guitar solo to Supersonic at Knebworth.
06: Travel.
07: The subtle nuances, defined curves and casolette of the body of a young and beautiful woman.
08: Playing live music.
09: Nostalgia.
10: Humus.

I have nothing else to say.

Haemorrhage.

Sat, 26 Jan 2008 18:07:02 GMT

When I want to be myself again;
When I want to die.
I connect the dots and make a speech;
Then I touch the sky.
You can dissolve what doesn't matter.

When I come up I feel like;
Like a haemorrhage.
There's heat in my stomach,
and I feel so sick.
That's OK, because I will feel better.

So don't fight, and let yourself become;
A little bit insane.
Reality is merely perception;
So you can't complain.
You can always try for something better.

You can always try for something better.

So where my aliens at? Girl, we're all illegal.

Wed, 23 Jan 2008 18:47:14 GMT

This system ain't for us; It's for rich people.

And you ain't rich, dog, you just got money.

And you can't buy shit to not get hungry.

The concept of a police force is a short-sighted reactionary solution to a problem that it causes itself, an existential paradox on a scale unlike any other. It is a ploy for the disenfranchisement of the common man, it is a game the rich play with us. It's an ambulance at the bottom of a cliff, but like I said, it's more than that; it not only causes the problems it is purporting to fight, it is failing to fight them adequately. A police force is simply a soft street army, staffed by average-intelligence buzz-cut neophytes of imperialism for dummies. These men and women will never fully understand the systems they defend and uphold, and they do not need to. No one needs to, if they did, the system would collapse under the weight of an intellectual revolution.

It's scary what people will do differently when the police are involved. People seem to think that the cops are above the law and are virtuous, which is a dangerous combination, not only because this is not true, but also because it means the general public are putting their trust into corruption. Do you know your rights upon arrest? Do you know that if you do not consent to a search, whether it be on your person or your house, that the police are not legally able to search you? Did you know that if they do search you without consent, and find incriminating evidence, that can get thrown out of court straight away?

Did you know that any jury has the power to acquit a guilty man if his crime is deemed to be merely a breach of law, and not general morality? So a drug addict caught in possession can go free, so a man defending his life with violence can be let off. The jury's job is not only to judge the defendant, it's job is to judge the law as well. I bet you intelligent young men did not know that, did you? Lawyers have been held in contempt for bringing this up by some judges. The system is corrupt. Do not trust the police if they have anything against you, because they will use underhand tactics and they will play games.

It is impossible to justify the police force with the best interests of the public in mind.
It is impossible to justify the army with the best interests of the public in mind.
It is impossible to justify the government with the best interests of the public in mind.

The only people that these concepts benefit are those in power, the top brass, the elite, the percent of a percent that live at the top.

It's all utter bullshit. Government, money, army, police, law, prison, elections, JSA, 9-5, God, Cigarettes, Fast food, A.D.I.D.A.S, School, all of it is designed to keep you from rising up, from standing your ground, from believing your own truth, from expressing your identity; from revolting.

I'm a hard-left, hard-core Anarchist, Chomskyite to the bone, and I am very proud of it. You cut me, and I bleed redder than red. I don't value money, I don't value consumerist items. These things hold no value for me. I see them as a fool's pleasure, as toys for the people who daren't live, who are too scared to be individual, who need a hole filling in their lives. I value the things that bring true happiness - Love, friendship, trust, loyalty, selflessness, modesty, pacifism, and all in between.

We're heading for a recession. I, for one, am looking forward to it.

lulz

Mon, 10 Dec 2007 23:10:50 GMT

Seein' as

Tue, 04 Dec 2007 03:41:35 GMT

I'll have seen the Manics for the third time in 48 hours:

DREAM MANIX SETLIST:

The Masses Against The Classes
Yes
Send Away The Tigers
Kevin Carter
Ocean Spray
Empty Souls
Tsunami
Rendition
Faster
The Second Great Depression
Roses In The Hospital
Enola/Alone
P.C.P
From Despair To Where
Baby Elian
A Song For Departure
la Tristesse Durera
Archives Of Pain
Little Baby Nothing (acoustic)
Small Black Flowers That Grow In The Sky (acoustic)
This Is Yesterday (acoustic)
Elvis Impersonator: Blackpool Pier
Australia
Autmnsong
Solitude Sometimes Is
Black Dog On My Shoulder
No Surface, All Feeling
Motorcycle Emptiness
1985
Design For Life

... I don't think 31 songs is asking too much, 'specially since they said to expect Springsteen-esque setlists and this one would clock in at over 3 hours.

I'm not obsessed. I'm passionate.

Passion, guys. Passion.

THE KING OF IRON FIST TERNAMENT. ENTER: THE TEK

Sat, 01 Dec 2007 18:34:57 GMT

KEN