The northlondonhippy

Archive for June 25th, 2008

Well fuck me, look who it is!

I mean me. Where the hell have I been?

I’ve been nowhere, doing noth­ing. Hon­est, offi­cer, I swear.

That’s not strictly true, because I am still the part time lib­er­tyc­i­ty­hippy, so you know where I’ve been hang­ing out sometime.

I’ve also been work­ing a fair bit, but my sched­ule has been all over the place with­out any sort of pat­tern, rhyme or reason.

I’ve been dis­tracted, I’ve been unfo­cused, or as it say in the larger, yel­low font above, I’ve just been “coast­ing through life.” That means any­thing requir­ing the slight­est of effort has been rel­e­gated to another day…and when another day comes, I am gonna be one busy hippy.

I wish I could be telling you oth­er­wise, that I’ve been busy record­ing my album, or writ­ing another book, or pro­vid­ing sex­ual favours to a small gang of vora­ciously demand­ing 16 year old glam­our mod­els. I wish I could tell you lots of things, but I won’t lie to you.

I can’t lie to you. It would be eas­ier if I could.

I get up every­day and seem to be busy, I don’t actu­ally just sit in a dark room all the time, yet I couldn’t tell you what eats my time away. Maybe its some time-eating mon­ster from another dimension.

How cool would that be? To be a time-eating mon­ster from another dimen­sion, trav­el­ling to north Lon­don to eat hippy time. I won­der what time tastes like?

Prob­a­bly time tastes like chicken. Every­thing tastes like chicken.

Never mind time mon­sters, now its just time to meander…

I was very dis­heart­ened and sad to read of the pass­ing of George Car­lin, yet another big influ­ence on me when I was younger. Along with Hunter S and Kurt V, George Car­lin was a hero of my youth.

I used to lis­ten to George Carlin’s albums end­lessly with an absolute obses­sion. His humour, on the sur­face, could be seen as crude, but when you explored what he was actu­ally say­ing, it was gen­uinely pro­found. His com­edy dealt with word-play and idea-play and noth­ing in this life escaped his crit­i­cal gaze.

Just off the top of my head:

Words that go together, yet are contradictory:

Jumbo Shrimp
Mil­i­tary Intelligence

But the words he’s most famous for are the fol­low­ing seven:

shit
piss
fuck
cunt
cock­sucker (not a bad man, but a good woman!)
moth­er­fucker
tits (sounds like a snack. I’ll have the cheese tits)

And later on he added:

fart
turd
twat

And one that still makes me laugh, “You can prick your fin­ger, but you can’t fin­ger your prick.”

Car­lin con­tin­ued to per­form prac­ti­cally right up to his death on Sun­day, his final gig was the pre­vi­ous week­end. While in the busi­ness for nearly 50 years, his jokes never went stale and he never, ever ran out of mate­r­ial. How could he? The human race excels in stu­pid­ity and that could have con­tin­ued to fuel his humour for centuries.

Sorry to see you go, George. You left your mark on this world and we won’t ever for­get you. Some­thing tells me that another gen­er­a­tion will be dis­cov­er­ing you very soon, thanks to your untimely demise.

Speak­ing of death (and inap­pro­pri­ate segues), my Log­itech Har­mony 885 remote bit the big one this week. It thinks its work­ing, when you press the but­tons, but it doesn’t seem to be trans­mit­ting any infrared sig­nals. This is a bum­mer of enor­mous pro­por­tions, as it it is the cen­tral com­mand for my small, yet per­fectly formed media cen­tre. My life is now awash with too many device-specific remote controls.

The upside to this is that the remote is still under war­ranty and I am wait­ing for a call back from Log­itech sup­port which I hope will result in them send­ing me a replace­ment. The first guy I spoke to tried to help me sort it out over the phone, but his reme­dies didn’t do did­dley. I’m missed their return call yes­ter­day, but they should phone me back again later today.

And stay­ing with my elec­tronic theme, I can­celled my Voda­fone con­tract today, in antic­i­pa­tion of hav­ing a brand new, shiny, lick­able iPhone 3G on launch day, which is 11th July, just over a fort­night from today. Voda­fone were sur­pris­ingly mel­low about my depar­ture, no hard sell, the phone call was brief and pain­less. Actu­ally, the guy was so nice, I told him I was switch­ing to O2 for the iPhone — usu­ally I don’t tell these peo­ple any­thing, so this is out of char­ac­ter for me. I’m a marketer’s worst nightmare!

Once I get my fancy new iPhone, I’m going to exper­i­ment with blog­ging from it. I’m not sure how it will go, but I like the idea of pro­vid­ing short posts on the fly. We’ll see if the real­ity keeps up with the fantasy!

I did con­sider play­ing around with Twit­ter, but I got frus­trated at the reg­is­tra­tion phase. The char­ac­ter limit of your screen name on Twit­ter is far too short and I couldn’t fit northlon­don­hippy into the tiny lit­tle box. None of that mat­ters any­way, I mean who in their right mind would sign up to fol­low me around on Twit­ter? How many times can you read: “had a piss, now smok­ing a spliff”, over and over every day?

While you pon­der that, I’m going to go for a piss, then smoke a spliff.

See, I told ya it would be lame…