I particularly liked the DJ Sensei and Blackbeard Sensei (especially because I played that game when I was a kid).

Today was the zine fair. If you do not know what a zine is, go here. I’ll wait while you get acquainted. Now for my definition: Zines are the Poptarts of Literature. They are small sweet packages and eating too many of them in one hit will cause some kind of mental indigestion, even though you know you will be back for more. Jeremy informs me that there has not been a zine fair in this humid sprawl for at least six years. Elouise (Elmo), Jeremy and I make it to the gallery in the morning to begin laying out tables for the fair and give Elmo a hand setting up her table. Elouise is starting up (or running) a zine distro, which is a distribution hub for zines.

Time moves in strange currents now. At some point I am fetching some fruit for the guys to snack on. But the tables at the fair are almost full as more zinesters arrive and the curious and fans rock up to check out the gallery and buy some indie literature. About twenty tables occupied by the height of the night. The following is a quick rundown of the people and the things I paid attention too.

Off My Meds – Phillip Dearest – When people stop their medication and draw about the shit they see, I cannot look away, knowing I won’t be able to unsee what I just saw

Burger Force – Jackie Ryan – A comic that is drawn from taking photos of the actors that play the characters. At first perusal, I found the pacing and style very similar to Strangehaven by Gary Spencer MIllidge. Interesting to see how it goes.

Picked up a couple issues of Bats which has covers like those foreign boutique mags. Haich, which is about the letter H, and is drawn by E J Zyla, reminds me of the art of early Sandman comics, like that of Mike Dringenberg. Also got a couple issues of The Wanderers, which is a street art zine.

However, I have read none of these at this point. Busy throughout the night, talking and meeting people, picking up more zines, talking about movies. And I didn’t stop there. When it was all over, I helped out packing everything up and carrying a chunk of zines back to Ian and Ash’s car, transport them back safely to Jeremy’s place. Their vehicle was tiny, as the five of us wedged ourselves in between each other and giant bags of zines.

Attempts of having a beer in the city failed, so instead we raced out back to a bottle shop, picked up a stack of six packs and then drank them under the lights of cliffs along the riverside.

Later, after I have enough hops-based courage in me, I break out the Buddha machines and make concrete music until everyone passed out. Good times, but I took a while before I could find a place to sleep.

Apologies for the lateness of this post. And some of the photos. Really busy times. But hey I was on holidays.

When it was all over, Jeremy, Elmo and I realised that we had indeed missed a meal. That terrible twosome were up for some fabled felafel kebabs that are produced from a Lebanese take away in West End. We rode Shank’s Pony across the river and through a sleepy city towards the takeout, only to find out that all the felafel was gone. Instead the guy, who claimed to stay open only for our benefit. He made up some kebabs from what he had leftover which include some vege ball whose name currently escapes me. Then back across West End and through South Bank we trawled past dive bars and small locals looking for a place that would sell us a couple of beers. Eventually we found one out near the river and then went downstream to drink them reflecting on the myriad of events of the day, as the washes from the ferries and citycats lapped on the riverbank.

We eventually made it back to Jeremy’s place, to show Elmo some episodes of Green Porno. It’s a strange and hilarious show, mostly strung together by Isabella Rossellini. Go youtube it.

The plane lands, I collect my luggage and catch a train into the city. More video games. I still have no phone so I cannot tell people that I am alive, well and somewhat sane. The person to help me and put up with me for most of the week is Jeremy, who was trying to arrange photos for a gallery at Bleeding Hearts. I dropped a mention of it sometime earlier. It’s related to zine when he took a trip to the U S of A last year. The photos, along with postcards had to be arranged in some kind of order to fit neatly on three panels. For my part I managed to help in deft peeling of double sides adhesive to paste picture to temporary wall. The owners/managers (not sure if they were which or both) told us that we had to go around five. And Jeremy and I managed to snap the last photos to the wall a little after closing time.

Evening came and went. After a vegan-style meal of “chicken” and “oyster”, Jeremy brought me back to his place to show me some of the crazy crap he brought back from Japan, along with cracking open an expensive looking bottle of shochu that is equally smooth when drunk straight or mixed with tropical breakfast juice.

I have pictures, but they will come later. Right now I’m ready to pass out. Odin bless that fine shochu. I pray that they have some in Valhalla. Jeremy also gave up his bed for me. He’s sleeping on the floor.

On the outside it looks like one structure, but really its two. The stone dome on the outside is really a brick silo of sorts, set in the middle of a cube of flowing water. Inside the silo it’s warm, the hole in the roof and the white wall, taking in a reflecting the sun’s heat. This keeps the inside of the silo warm. Inside the main structure all of the stones are strangely cool, including those that have direct sunlight on them.

Also showed Em a garden that is hidden in the art gallery, somewhere. You’ll just have to find it. Also the ball that usually hangs in between the gallery and the high court has been taken down, for cleaning or repairs.

Anyway I have to get back to packing. More on that later.

(I also apologise for the quality of the photos, i didn’t pay attention to the settings and I had the wrong white balance. I’ve attempted to fix some in post, but it’s not as good, being thorough the first time around.)

I have already updated two other site, but this one still eludes me. So what I have resorted to installing the whole thing from scratch and rebuilding it. The first hurdle I’ve come across is that this refuses to upload media, claiming it cannot create a folder despite the fact that it has the correct permissions (and the other two sites work fine with the same permissions).

To add to this, work is dragging along as I am trapped in the purgatory between jobs, of tape management, a media audit and learning new backup admin junk. I get jobs that really are not really the team’s responsibility and at least my responsibility.

Tomorrow I have to return to the underground vault. Briefly. All I want to do is go in see the tapes I need and get out. Hopefully I will have the time to look up three things, import beer, pricing some Nerf guns for office-related hijinks and sorting out my passport.

Later.

thumbnail is from the Colbert Report, I pulled the image from here

I’ve recently ordered wine from Churchview. And I’ve been a customer for the last couple of years. Their Cab Sav is my personal favourite, and I stash away bottles for special occasions. And with such occasions few and far between I am getting a collection. Nothing is more sobering than ordering drink from across the country. Over the next two weeks while it makes it way to my doorstep, I will gently rock back and forth.

After more than a year of posting any stories online, I will make the effort this weekend to put some fiction back on the Wall. No promises, but for those people left over from the people who hung on, I guess, I should do it from them.

That’s all for now. Tomorrow is Friday. And then I can prepare for the weekend ahead.

This week at work, we have two people leaving the department with more moving onto other things. So things will be interesting as Chinois curses go.

polaroid thumb is from here

However, when I resurfaced I learned that some of my buddies from my hometown want to shoot a film for a local competition. Apparently, the competition is called Origin8 – link is here but the Empire Theatre’s website is strangely broken. Also the competition seems to like the number 8, to the point that the organisers want to violently make love to it. The thing is these buddies of mine want to use a script that I wrote many years ago. Which is flattering in the least, but it was a decent script I believe. So I’m looking forward how they interpret the whole thing and how far it rises against the other entries.

Other than that I have finished one comic book script to my satisfaction and halfway through another. And I’ve started drawing again, but at this moment none of my art will appear online. Busy weekend up ahead too, mostly meeting up with people, drinking imported beers and watching Swedish and Korean vampire movies – because they contain no reptiles that Hollywood attempts to pass off as teenagers.

Night.

Photo is from sxc.hu – by timobalk.

For the last couple of weeks I have been attempting to audit the tapes so that we get a picture of where they are and which tapes are still relevant. So at this point I am up to one of the most painful points in this “adventure”. I have to find every tape that is currently in offsite storage. This means driving out to the storage facility and going through their vault of tapes and look at tapes, scan them with a gun while comparing the list I have. There are thousands of tapes. I am doing this on my own.

Normally I do very well by myself very well. However, I am a guest to this storage facility. The tapes are stored in a place that is a mix between a military bunker and a bank vault. The two and sometimes three people that inhabit this underground concrete grotto have slowly become insane due to their insular environment. At least this is what I swear has happened. On my first day there, two of them would scream each other names. All damn day. So some heavy gauge headphones and the loud music of Venetian Snares, Deftones, Circle Pit, Crystal Castles and others have helped. But I still have about another week of this.

Thank the gods there’s a booze importer across the road. Speaking of which, this is where I picked up this:

Beer with Ralph Steadman labels. Normally I don’t drink American Beers, but I do need to give this a try. Will let you know how it goes.