Saturday, November 12, 2005

Attention All Wal Mart Shoppers...

Well brothers and sisters… thought I’d report in some normal stuff for a change, rather than merely forward stuff on or rant.

I’ll tie up a few loose ends: I was accepted into Neurocam as an entry level. My first assignment is relatively straightforward, though because I’ve been taking it seriously I’ve managed to complicate things. All I can say about it that it’s “a long-term investment.” Brothers and sisters who’ve watched BBC TV show “Spooks” or the BBC TV show “Spy” probably have seen it in action, and to be honest, should probably apply.

I also came across the Neuroboards (in a manner of speaking) and therefore the Subculture that surrounds Neurocam. It’s intriguing to see ordinary people doing astonishing things. There’s a subculture behaving like ill-trained spooks. I’m doing it because I genuinely enjoy exploring the internet’s various subcultures as a new land in which we all inhabit. I don’t know if these people do or not, but I’m intrigued by various characters therein: Chris Titan the mystical rebel, Teigan, the Neurocam Operative promoted and public, and all the little elves hanging around the boards…

This meandering carousel is a place which seems to exist because our western culture is bankrupt and seeking some kind of fulfilment which our own brothers and sisters seek in everyday life. It’s why they don’t vote or participate in society. Have we seen so many movies that we’ve finally decided that we don’t just want to watch James Bond but to BE him? There’s an incoherent tribal element here, something fascinating in the rejection of this rejected and apparently useless generation.

“In the world I see - you are stalking elk through the damp canyon forests around the ruins of Rockefeller Center. You'll wear leather clothes that will last you the rest of your life. You'll climb the wrist-thick kudzu vines that wrap the Sears Tower. And when you look down, you'll see tiny figures pounding corn, laying strips of venison on the empty car pool lane of some abandoned superhighway… You're not your job. You're not how much money you have in the bank. You're not the car you drive. You're not the contents of your wallet. You're not your fucking khakis. You're the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world.” Tyler Durden – Fight Club (1999) David Fincher (dir), Brad Pitt (Tyler Durden), Edward Norton (Jack / Narrator), Chuck Palahniuk (novel), Jim Uhls (screenplay)

So, maybe I’m a philosopher in the Village of the Damned, or maybe I’m a Ned trying to find something… Either way my assignment is being completed tomorrow.

Max has been promising me some pictures of his “Saltire Boards” for some time now, and hasn’t provided. He’s said, finally, that they’ll come next week. I met him in the photo section of Cumbernauld Tesco and made him put the fucking film in Tesco to get developed… No excuses now…

You’ll also probably notice an increase on Spam in the comments section. No idea why, but fuck it, I guess it’s some kind of recognition.

I’ve been trying out different formats of cameras, specifically my Nettar and Rolleicord. I got the photos easily enough: Kilsyth, Glasgow, Stonehaven, everywhere… Finally I got around to trying to get them developed, and managed to traipse around every shithole in western Scotland to get them developed. Cumbernauld doesn’t develop 120 Roll film anymore, apparently. One place in Glasgow refused me because there was “a kink in the machine.” Another Glasgow place I left because “We can only develop the film, not print it. WTF? Clearly my favourite format, film, is dying, slowly… Soon we’ll all be digital; chemistry and photography will have parted ways and we’ll be giving even more money to Bill Gates.


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