This was the Future, Vol.16

typed for your pleasure on 31 August 2005, at 11.43 pm

Sdtrk: ‘We build a golem for London’ by Mount Vernon astral temple

Okay, with this instalment, we’re back to the sort of architecture that genuinely makes me a wee bit sad to look at, cos I know I’ll probably never get a chance to live there, but at the same time, it makes me entirely giddy to know that a place such as this is still standing. This time, our focus turns to Habitat 67, designed by Moshe Safdie for the 1967 Expo in Montréal.

At the ground level, a service road system connects all service areas and parking facilities. One level above the service roads is a pedestrian plaza, and above that plastic-sheltered streets which connect all parts of the project through walk-ways and bridges. At no time is it necessary for a pedestrian to cross the service roads. To reach the homes on the upper levels there are three vertical cores, where the elevators serve the horizontal pedestrian streets.

Unlike most Expo exhibits, Habitat 67 remained after the exposition’s close, and remains fully occupied today. Mr Safdie was one of those architects that sought to change the way people lived in a social context, so he built a series of apartments that had the open space that most urban apartments were lacking. This place offered 158 units varying from one- to four-bedroom units, with open walkways that were sheltered from the weather by plexiglass walls. There’s a link at the bottom of the page I’d provided above, that recounts the experiences of a couple that moved to Habitat 67, that’s pretty interesting to read.

What initially hit me about Habitat 67 is that the whole place looks like it’s in motion (‘Nude Descending a Staircase’, anyone?), what with its cube-units going in and out at all sorts of angles and distances. The other appealing thing is due to its structural layout, everyone has their own back patio/mini-garden, which would be perfect for someone like myself, who doesn’t mind the outdoors and nature, just not in great amounts. Some amount of greenery, yet no yard to maintain? You’re speaking my language!

Habitat 67 is a Machine for Living, but with a personal touch. Once again proving that Expo sites feature some of the best buildings and structures

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Grrr

typed for your pleasure on 30 August 2005, at 2.57 am

Sdtrk: ‘Just can’t get enough’ by Nouvelle vague

If you’re not seeing the proper black circuit board background, as well as the Guest Gravatars, or the various images and graphics in general that are normally associated with ‘Shouting etc etc’, don’t panic, as Photopeg appears to be spasming right now.

I would strike it sharply with the side of my fist, in the manner of Fonzie correcting an errant jukebox, but the Photopeg servers are nowhere nearby. Actually, I’ve no idea where they physically are.
Hopefully nowhere near a hurricane, is all I can say

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your Autumn Reading Suggestions

typed for your pleasure on 29 August 2005, at 3.19 am

Sdtrk: ‘Velada’ by Fursaxa

Look at what I found!


yes, that’s my Sidore-chan. 🙂

Remember, Elena Dorfman’s ‘Still lovers’ comes out next month, and it’ll be available on Amazon.com, as well as Barnes & Noble and a couple of other vendors.
And if you can read Français, why not also buy a copy of ‘Des poupées et des hommes: Enquête sur l’amour artificiel (Dolls and men: Investigaton into artificial love)’, written by Elisabeth Alexandre, with photos by Elena Dorfman? Why not? Hmm?

They’ll be the best literary purchases you’ll make all year. (Despite the fact that one is mostly photographs, and you might not even be able to read the other one.) I guarantee it

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YESSU, or, Cats tend to land on their feet

typed for your pleasure on 26 August 2005, at 3.17 pm

Sdtrk: ‘Michael’ by Franz Ferdinand

Now it can be told, as I have positive confirmation: for the first time since January, I now have a job. I’ll be working for ESI as a driver person, where my duties will include delivering various makes and models of vehicles from our warehouse to people, in order for them to review them, eat them, what have you, as well as driving vehicles round to put mileage on them. I’ll be starting this in early September, and I’ve really no idea what the pay will be, but the job seems like something I can get into — there’s no cube farm, there’s very little forced interaction with coworkers, and it’s quite frankly better than being on the dole. O wait — my dole cheques ran out two weeks ago! So obviously, the timing is perfect.
Plus, not only do I already know someone there — Dave, Derek & Steph’s roommate — but Steph was the one who got me the job in the first place. Steph, when the hell’s your birthday?

Woo and yay!

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Oh, (the) humanity

typed for your pleasure on 26 August 2005, at 12.00 pm

Sdtrk: ‘At night’ by the Cure

This morning, I was awakened by my bloody phone ringing at sometime after 8.30am. I lurched out of bed, saw it was a number that I didn’t recognise, and switched the ringer off. Roughly three minutes later, I hear the beep that indicates that someone’s left a message, and I’m thinking, ‘who in fuck’s left me a three minute message??’ So I got out of bed again in order to check who it was, and it turned out to be D_____, a lass that was the receptionist at my last job who I was half-heartedly attempting to chat up. She was going on at length about how she’s just moved her computer into her new place with her current boyfriend, and they got into it this morning, as he had checked her AOL Inbox, and discovered, to his chagrin, several names of males that were not his own. Yeah, he’s one of those lovely, aggressively insecure types of blokes — he’s a cop, which pretty much says it all right there. D_____ had left a message wanting to know how exactly she could make sure she got rid of, or at least hide, any and all Emails from her other guy friends that she’d received, as well as pictures; as one time, I had gotten round to her old place and taken photos of her feet — yes, I’m a foot fetishist, we’ve covered this — and Emailed them back to her. He had asked who took them, and D_____ panicked and said some coworker had taken them, and when I rung her back at work, she said that he was probably going through her AOL account as we spoke. In short, the Gestapo was paying her a visit, and she wanted to know how best to effectively hide the Jews in her cupboards. I honestly don’t know how that analogy came about, but it’s making me giggle.

Basically, I’m sat here shaking my head. Why is it that people get into relationships, and knowingly stay in them, with fuckwits? I’m telling her, ‘well, D_____, if he won’t let you send and receive Emails from any one of your male friends, or he won’t let you give out your cellphone number to any one of your male friends, or if he won’t let you hang out with your male friends — in many cases, blokes you’ve known before you even met your prick of a boyfriend — then maaaybe that’s not the sort of relationship you want to be in?’ She’s saying that the arguments with him are stressing her out, which was audibly apparent in speaking with her the last couple of times after I was fired. I suggested that I take her out to dinner for a stress-free evening, but she claimed it would be difficult, if not impossible, to get away for any length of time, as she heads straight from work to pick her boyfriend’s son up from school, whereupon she heads back to her place and spends the rest of the eve with her prick of a boyfriend. D_____ apparently can’t leave her relationship, cos from what I see, she’s like thousands upon thousands of people who have a driving need to be with someone — anyone — even if that person has a couple of faults, such as being a suspicious little shit.

Now, I speak with some experience, as to some extent, that’s the way things were with my and my former housemate, the Slag. I was going to my job, being depressed there, coming home, having to drive her silly arse out to her stripper job or whatever cos she couldn’t drive, then hours later, having to get out of bed and leave a sound sleep behind in order to pick her up from said job, and then she would invariably chew me out because of something I did or didn’t do, either in real life, or solely in her deranged hallucinatory mind. I’m a person who believes that a home should not be a stressful place; it should be someplace where you can get away from virtually everything. After speaking to all manner of cunts from various states on the phone for seven hours, home should be a place where I really shouldn’t have to speak to anyone, if I choose not to. So one day, after of culmination of events that I’ll have to explain at a later date (that’s for the rest of the ‘I am not making this up‘ series, which I swear I’ll finish one day), I simply packed up my belongings and left. Good job on that as well, as it’s done loads for my sanity and well-being.
That caustic series of months where I lived with that so-called person pretty much solidified the fact that I can’t live with anyone. If they’re a friend before I lived with them, they turn into something entirely and negatively Other. Living by oneself, as I’ve said before, allows a person to actually develop their interests in their own time. It permits them to relax, and not be ‘on’ all the time. Most importantly, it allows them to see and do what they want, with whom they want, without having to field awkward and unnecessary questions from their roommate or partner. That’s one of the many reasons that I enjoy the company of my RealDoll Sidore. Rampant iDollatry aside, a Doll doesn’t care if you’ve had partners in the past, a Doll doesn’t care if you come home four hours later than you said you would, etc etc. It’s my goal to eliminate as much stress from my life as I possibly can, and being in the sort of relationship I’m currently in works toward that goal.

I don’t want to give the impression that I’m writing this in the spirit of ‘ha ha, I’m better off than you are’, cos I’m not. I just completely and utterly fail to understand why people will put up with that sort of behaviour. It could be argued that there are a few advantages being in one-half of a relationship — doubled income; constant, relentless, non-stop companionship — but if you have to compromise your personal freedoms, then none of it’s worth it. Society dictates that to be ‘successful’ and ‘happy’, you should be in a traditional relationship, but the way I see it, just because society says it’s a good idea, then it most likely isn’t

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I hate waiting

typed for your pleasure on 24 August 2005, at 11.58 am

Sdtrk: ‘Rugbymen’ by Roger Roger

I apologise, after my own fashion, for not having posted in a while. Right now, there frankly isn’t a whole lot going on with me to write about. My classes are due to start on the 9th of next month, and at this moment I’m waiting to hear news on something that I can’t discuss in detail, for fear that I might jinx it. (I’ve probably already done so, but hey.)

Also, I’m not altogether in a writing mindset right now, for either fact or fiction. Sure, I could make a weak attempt at shitting out some fiction right now for any concerned parties, but if I’m not satisfied with the results, I’m certain no-one else would be either.

Usually, writing for me comes in fits and starts. Sometimes it’s a trickle; other times, it’s a flood. Sometimes, me just saying that I have nothing to write about gets my Muse off her arse and then I’m back at it. We’ll see.

In the meantime, here’s some news about Actroid-chan, but it’s entirely in French. There are, however, pictures

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So long, Bob

typed for your pleasure on 22 August 2005, at 1.06 pm

Sdtrk: ‘Beethoviana’ by Wendy Carlos

from the ‘No good’ files: Robert Moog, pioneer of the modular analogue synthesiser that bears his name, passed away yesterday.

Bob’s Body Leaves Us

ASHEVILLE, N.C. — August 21, 2005 — Bob died this afternoon at his home in Asheville, N.C. He was 71. Bob was diagnosed with brain cancer (glioblastoma multiforme or GBM) in late April 2005. He had received both radiation treatment and chemotherapy to help combat the disease. He is survived by his wife, Ileana, his five children, Laura Moog Lanier, Matthew Moog, Michelle Moog-Koussa, Renee Moog, and Miranda Richmond; and the mother of his children, Shirleigh Moog.

Bob was warm and outgoing. He enjoyed meeting people from all over the world. He especially appreciated what Ileana referred to as “the magical connection” between music-makers and their instruments.

It goes without saying that Bob Moog changed the shape of music for the better. He will definitely be missed, but his legacy will live on

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