a guide to life

I was imagining my ankles behind my head right over there honey!

I'll take it!

Shorts

Gary from Gary on Vimeo.

Forever is not so long

Forever's Not So Long from garrettmurray on Vimeo.

cemetary

sydney

whats wrong with just !?

interrobang

To arthur!

Happy arthur guinness day. Somehow in dublin, just down the road from the brewery it doesnt seen so silly.

a head of his time

"Who lives longer? The man who takes heroin for two years and dies, or a man who lives on roast beef, water and potatoes 'till 95?" "One passes his 24 months in eternity. All the years of the beefeater are lived only in time."
-Aldous Huxley

That's liable to earn you a Burmese-roundhouse-sphincter-kick with a follow up three fingered eye-jab. Let's just say you won't be the prettiest guy at the Coldplay concert anymore.

apache street dance

someone had to say it

fwoar! Louise Brooks

the flappers, youth never changes.

these guys look like fun

i feel tired all the time. my mind is occupied by lots of thoughts but they are always moving at a kind of syrupy pace and then when i try to grab one and focus more closely the point of it sort of slides away. i find myself doing all the normal things that i do normally but with no excitement. always rubbing my eyes and shambling instead of walking. i have a sore foot that has been like that for six months or more. it keeps almost getting better but i dont really look after it so every once in a while it gets worse again and then it takes ages for it to get better. When i get home all i do is eat and get drunk and watch TV. i eat just to have something to do. i smoke cigarettes even when i dont want them. i get me massive heartburn. i keep burping up horrible acid which makes my throat and stomach burn.

I find that i often get a single word or phrase stuck, in my head which repeats over and over again. ther phrases are meaningless. it is sort of like getting a song stuck in your head but without a soul. I also fid myself haveing many reminiscences. old memories come up unbidden. things i have not thought about for years. it is not unplesant but i wonder why all of these things kjeep coming to mind. maybe it is some subconcious way of propping up my flagging optimisim.

work is dull and repetitive. i am at a bit of a brick wall at the moment. but i am too lethargic to do much anything about it. my imagination is shot. instead of my usual exzcitement about what i am doing in my life, i have shifted to being excited about things that i dont have. proposed holidays. things i would want to buy and soforth. all sorths of things that are not like me at all.

i go up and down thinking sometimes that i am going to have to prepeare myself for an ongoing solo journey and sometimes that i might salvage this living wreck a marriage. at the zenith of each part of the cycle i feel almost alright.

Rooowll?

It is a little known fact that alexander the great had an irish accent.

early rammstein

Toby has a stephen daeledus moment walking in sandycove

Hellboy meets Futurama

and the king of the dudes!

who wasn't Michael Jackson...

fight, fight!

defocus and listen

Toy Soldiers from Alta Media Productions on Vimeo.

wait for it!

been watching this

awesome house!

the american dream

The Cuil

Can we make that a unit of measurement?

One Cuil = One level of abstraction away from the reality of a situation.

Example: You ask me for a Hamburger.

1 Cuil: if you asked me for a hamburger, and I gave you a raccoon.

2 Cuils: If you asked me for a hamburger, but it turns out I don't really exist. Where I was originally standing, a picture of a hamburger rests on the ground.

3 Cuils: You awake as a hamburger. You start screaming only to have special sauce fly from your lips. The world is in sepia.

4 Cuils: Why are we speaking German? A mime cries softly as he cradles a young cow. Your grandfather stares at you as the cow falls apart into patties. You look down only to see me with pickles for eyes, I am singing the song that gives birth to the universe.

5 Cuils: You ask for a hamburger, I give you a hamburger. You raise it to your lips and take a bite. Your eye twitches involuntarily. Across the street a father of three falls down the stairs. You swallow and look down at the hamburger in your hands. I give you a hamburger. You swallow and look down at the hamburger in your hands. You cannot swallow. There are children at the top of the stairs. A pickle shifts uneasily under the bun. I give you a hamburger. You look at my face, and I am pleading with you. The children are crying now. You raise the hamburger to your lips, tears stream down your face as you take a bite. I give you a hamburger. You are on your knees. You plead with me to go across the street. I hear only children's laughter. I give you a hamburger. You are screaming as you fall down the stairs. I am your child. You cannot see anything. You take a bite of the hamburger. The concrete rushes up to meet you. You awake with a start in your own bed. Your eye twitches involuntarily. I give you a hamburger. As you kill me, I do not make a sound. I give you a hamburger.

6 Cuils: You ask me for a hamburger. My attempt to reciprocate is cut brutally short as my body experiences a sudden lack of electrons. Across a variety of hidden dimensions you are dismayed. John Lennon hands me an apple, but it slips through my fingers. I am reborn as an ocelot. You disapprove. A crack echoes through the universe in defiance of conventional physics as cosmological background noise shifts from randomness to a perfect A Flat. Children everywhere stop what they are doing and hum along in perfect pitch with the background radiation. Birds fall from the sky as the sun engulfs the earth. You hesitate momentarily before allowing yourself to assume the locus of all knowledge. Entropy crumbles as you peruse the information contained within the universe. A small library in Phoenix ceases to exist. You stumble under the weight of everythingness, Your mouth opens up to cry out, and collapses around your body before blinking you out of the spatial plane. You exist only within the fourth dimension. The fountainhead of all knowledge rolls along the ground and collides with a small dog. My head tastes sideways as spacetime is reestablished, you blink back into the corporeal world disoriented, only for me to hand you a hamburger as my body collapses under the strain of reconstitution. The universe has reasserted itself. A particular small dog is fed steak for the rest of its natural life. You die in a freak accident moments later, and you soul works at the returns desk for the Phoenix library. You disapprove. Your disapproval sends ripples through the inter-dimensional void between life and death. A small child begins to cry as he walks toward the stairway where his father stan

YEAH, do it hitler!

Nice empty state!

stuff

The Great Tea Race of 1866

By the mid-1860s, the clippers' annual homeward passage with the new season's tea crop had become a race and the contest fought out in 1866 became the most famous of them all. At the end of May that year, four of the tea trade's fastest carriers - 'Ariel', 'Fiery Cross', 'Serica' and 'Taeping' - were all loading cargo at Foochow; 'Ariel' cleared the dockside first but minor problems with tugs and tides in the estuary delayed all four until, by noon on 30th May, the quartet of contenders were all in open water. The run home to England proved heroic, with the four ships passing and re-passing each other on many occasions, but by the time 'Ariel' and 'Taeping' reached the Scillies, they were out in front with 'Serica' a few hours behind them. Practically neck-and-neck, the two leading clippers raced up the English Channel logging 14 knots for much of 5th September. At 8 o'clock the next morning, 'Ariel' signalled her number off Deal with 'Taeping' only ten minutes astern of her. Reaching the Nore, 'Taeping' picked up the better of the two available tugs and arrived off Gravesend to await the tide just ahead of her running mate. Still a race to the last, 'Taeping' - drawing less water than her rival - docked in London at 9.47pm., 'Ariel' tied up at 10.13pm. and 'Serica' got in at 11.30pm., just as the dock gates were closing. It was a breathtaking finish to the 99-day dash across the world and the closest result possible to a dead heat.

fauxcellarm: when you think you mobile is ringing but you are mistaken.

The Baader-Meinhof phenomenon occurs when a person, after having learned some (usually obscure) fact, word, phrase, or other item for the first time, encounters that item again, perhaps several times, shortly after having learned it.

Bang and blow.

Went and saw a german, all brass funk band at the speigel tent. Part of the dublin fringe festival. Much better than the limp adaptation of the seagull i saw last night. Now i am inspired to in and see more. But it is becoming a bit depressing going to all these things alone. Must try to drag more people along somehow. And fun people. Few and far between at the moment. Anyway, had some good fun dancing. Caroline would have loved it!

weird starwars behind the scenes

also very cute Carrie Fisher pic

good recipie site

the worst link in the world. only a sociopath could make it to the end of this. Do not click!

Tomorrow is...

International bacon day. I am going to have bacon and eggs for breakfast!

drinking alone

trent from punchbowl

batman from???

and look how cool finge festival in dublin. going to go and see Camille

Looky here, so young, so skinny!

Scarlett Johanssen will be in Iron Man 2. Schwing!

Yay, proof money doesn't make you happy!

ISS from the ground.

Help meee! I can see god.
Wow, seeing without knowing what you see.
frigging genius.

Lord help us all. "Pretentious drivel", "better off with a good walk rather than reading dusty books". What possible hope is there for a country which with such self-righteous philistinism scorns its own treasures? Ulysses is the greatest novel of the twentieth century. It is is wise, warm, witty, affirmative and beautiful. it is less pretentious than a baked bean. Read it. read it out loud to yourself. It won't bite. It wasn't written either to shock or to impress. Only pretentious barbarians believe artists set out shock: and how these philistines delight in revealing how unshocked they are. Those who attack it are afraid of it and rather than look foolish they prefer to heckle what they don't understand. Ignore all this childish, fear-filled criticism, Ulysses will be read when everything you see and touch around you has crumbled into dust.
Stephen Fry, London, UK