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Kids can be so... weird.

Posted 20 May 2002, 5.54 pm by Alexander

I've been reading this site for a good hour or so now - it's marvellous. A list of playground taunts, phrases and tortures that evoke such bitter, painful memories... not that I was ever picked on at school of course.

I think it's mainly applicable to British kids, but it should prove a telling insight for akpcep's international audience into why we British grow up to be so strange...

Click Here

dare me.

Posted 18 May 2002, 12.09 pm by Villager

It is taken as something of a Norm that the individual is subject to a number and range of restrictions and rules, of laws and their enforcement. One could argue quite reasonably that these restrictions are entirely necessary, just, and fair to maintain a healthy society where all have the opportunity to prosper. Where all are more or less equal and can without undue interruption endeavour to work in a field which fulfils personal needs. A cynic (let us not worry too much about classification for the moment), might take the equally justifiable standpoint and argue that on the contrary, our systems of society and Government are, by design, there to maintain a divide between those who Are, and those who Are Not. Those who can indulge there personal whims with the resources they are permitted, and those who cannot hope to attain such leisure. The rich and the poor. The mainstream and those who either reject it or cannot thrive in it.

It would be a basic divide, as you would have those who fall in the nether regions, those that have a reasonable lifestyle yet feel controlled. Those who get by comfortably enough, but never really feel alive. The mid sections. The battery hens, some might say. Is it right to keep beings controlled for a single purpose? With basic freedoms granted, but ones which are oft heavily diluted by material deficits, and sweetened by drip-fed stimuli. Alcohol, nightclubs, sport, cinema. Etc.

Society is not intrinsically a bad thing. Given the density of Earth's populations, it is inevitable. It is requisite if we want modern amenities, respect and protection from the outside world, and indeed elements within that society. It probably even gives the individual a strong quality of life in many cases. It is the natural consequence of Collective Existence. But that doesn’t make it right. It is still oppressive. Our natural instincts are not allowed to express themselves naturally, heavily driven to conform to something resembling a satisfactory citizen. This may well be driven by the best of intentions on the part of the individuals who effect such things, and may superficially maintain the peace and delicate equilibrium in which we live. But it still has a fundamentally negative impact on the physical and mental development of the individual whom laws and government design to regulate.

I should not be sat here typing my complaints and observations into an electrical machine. It is symbolic that this is my most accessible means of doing so. I cannot live the life I would want. It is a physical impossibility born of a confusion between accustomed life and desire for a honest and simple life, free from the invisible pressures of business and systems. Society serves, whether by explicit design or sad misfortune, to destroy the human being in each innocent child. I proffer no realistic alternative, I have neither the imagination nor intelligence to see how we can free ourselves. Maybe that is because we cannot, maybe it is because it would require a lifetime of working against the tide which brought us into this world.

Are you free?

Dispatch - Bang Bang

Posted 15 May 2002, 7.08 pm by Acheron

When I mention Dispatch to my friends here out west, I inevitably get the response, "never heard of 'em." Their responses are justified: Dispatch never plays out west, let alone in Canada, they aren't signed with a major label, and they do not get any radio/TV airtime. In a way, I'm almost sadistically glad, because I get to be the one to uncork my "little secret", a band so good that I still scratch my head to wonder why they aren't being played over and over and over... on every radio across the continent. The band is literally that good: a tight rhythm section, talented guitar playing, catchy harmony, and songs that can only be described as, erm, sublime all make this band my current favourite.

While I urge you to sprint to your local record store and pick up all of their albums, Bang Bang is probably their best, if for no other reason than the song, "The General." That one song alone is worth the cost of the album. Go buy it now!

Thoughts of Pain

Posted 14 May 2002, 8.09 pm by Sickan

I wrote this shortstory some time ago... its a bit harsh - so if you have a gentle heart then I would advise not to read it...

No no, oh my God, stop it hurts!!! Please stop I'll do anything just make the pain go away!!!
She cried – but she already knew how this story would end. There was no one there to come and rescue her – no guardian angel.
She could feel his smile behind her, those big white teeth that shined in the dimmed light from the moon outside that stable, the crows creaming to the moon to let the dead rise again, to get their revenge.
She noticed the well-known pain in her wrists and looked up at her arms, they were put up in an awkward position, they hang over her, strapped up in ropes, a little cloth was put around her skin to protect it from the ropes, so that they wouldn't make any marks.
She could feel him breathe in her neck, he said something – but she couldn’t hear it, maybe she wouldn’t, or maybe she already knew what he said, but it didn’t matter. Nothing did when she was here.
A little whistling sound of leather in a glove and the horrible pain on her back, like a thousand daggers – her eyes blackened. Again and again the pain returned but she stopped noticing it – she had grown accustomed to this – all these endless nights with this sick man.
The wet blankets wrapped around her little body had the same purpose as the cloths on her wrists, not even the whip left marks on her back when they were there.
She could feel his cold and sweaty hands on her legs, feel his warm breath in the icy air. She stated to cry, and he probably said; not to be scared, this wouldn’t hurt her, but she knew otherwise.
Suddenly she could see her own body, that tiny nine-year-old girl hanging helpless from two ropes in an old stable in the middle of the winter, the little body was naked and the skin so very pale and fragile, it shook from the cold and from the helpless crying. She flew higher and higher up – trough the roof of the building and…
Her eyes hurt a bit when she first opened them, again she was in her bed. The sun stood naked on the winter sky. She sat up in the bed, looking at her dirty feet, and remembered last night. She bet her lip hard and felt the warm blood in her mouth. The feet were small and looked so pale on the dark wooden floor. Her room was neat and clean, nothing was out of order here, only her clothes was destroying the perfect picture, it was heaped up by the chair.
She could hear her mother waling around in the kitchen, could recognize her steps and the sound her feet made on the floor. The little girl stood up and realized that she had her underwear on again, had it all just been a dream, but she already knew the answer to this question she had asked so many times before. She walked to the mirror and looked at her back, there was nothing to see, the only evidence he left was the pain. It knocked on the door, and then it was open. Her mother stood in the doorway. “What are you doing, what are you doing standing there almost naked in this cold. God its cold inhere, did you sleep with the window open or something?” Danielle nodded and looked away, trying to hide her pain. Her mother walked to the chair and picked up the clothes. She looked at Danielle's feet. “What the hell… what have you been doing? Out running again in the middle of the night with no shoes on?” She looked at her daughter and shook her head. She winked Danielle to her and hugged her, whispered something in her ear and began dressing her.
Later on when she had had her breakfast she went to the stable, her father had come home, and she knew that they would fight again, and she wouldn’t listen to that. She actually didn’t care about them being divorced, maybe then her mother would take her to another place, a place where the man wasn't. Nowhere she could be alone, neither safe. In the house her parents would be yelling at her and each other, and in the stable she could run into the stable boy, the man who had been abusing her all the time he had been working there. He was a kind and good-looking fellow, who everyone liked. He had dark hair and blue-greenish eyes, which was deep and thoughtful. The first time Danielle had met him she liked him and adored him, he was young and she looked at him with a childish love. He was about 20, and she was 9, still she had imagined a future with him. This dream crumbled about a week later when he came to her the first time. She had wondered why he wanted her to come to the stable late at night where everyone else was asleep. Now she knew why.
She was nine, she had no idea of why or what he did to her, all she knew was that it was wrong and it hurt as hell. She couldn’t tell her parents, they had enough to think about, and she didn’t think they would understand her, nor believe in her. He was such a nice young man. Time and experience had made her older in mind. She had seen things and felt things on her own little body she didn’t know were possible and still she was only nine. NINE, for God's sake!!!
Her only friend in this world was an old horse, named Castello. And she loved him. She could ride him all day long and forget all about her life, just enjoy the nature and the beast underneath her.
She went over to him, that big silver grey horse, he looked at her, knowing that she would take care of him, take him outside. He was really to big for her, but her parents didn’t care about that detail. If she were to fall if him, she could get really hurt. But she had never fallen off him. She picked up the gear in another room and got him ready. His breath stood white and clear in the icy air. The smell of animalistic power filled her nose straws. On the way out of the stable she met the man; Nicholas was his name. He smiled at her and stopped in the doorway, looking down at her, smiling. Her heart started to beat faster, and Castello was uneased, he could feel something was wrong. Nicolas slowly, without loosing sight of her, backed out of the stable, looking at her with his deep green eyes. She shuddered and took the horse outside. She climbed, with some difficulties up on him, smiled devilish at Nicholas and gently kicked the horse in his flank. After half a minute or so, she started to cry helplessly again. She couldn’t stop and she let Castello go wherever he wanted, she buried her head in her gloves and cried. Suddenly she had had enough, she just wanted to die, make it all disappear make it all go away! She looked up at the sky, at the trees and the frozen planes. What to do? She could just kill herself, run in front of a car or something… that would be the easy way. But she loved life before Nick had come into her life. He was the problem here, not her. She would not die because of that mans weird needs. She asked her horse what to do; he shook his head and tried to get some of the frozen grass. She looked at him for a long time, and then she made up her mind.
That evening her mother and father had argued and she slept beside her mother, she had let her do that, she usually never let her… a night in peace. The next morning she was really sore all over her body from the other night’s violent rape.
She knew that she was different than the other girls she knew at her age. She had small breasts, and about a year ago, she had noticed blood in her underwear, and now the blood came once every month. Her mother had tried to tell her something about the blood and babies and stuff, but she didn’t really understand it… Her mother had taken her to the doctor, and he had told them that this rarely happened, but it wasn't anything to be worried about, she was just becoming a “big girl” as her mother called her. She didn’t care. Actually her mother had been telling her, that she didn’t like her attitude against some things. But really she didn’t care one little bit about anything, only her only friend who really just was a stupid horse.
In school she had no friends, she just sat in the corner of the classroom reading, thinking or writing. The others teased her, said she was a freak. At first they made her sad, now she just looked at them, thinking how sad they looked, how small and ignorant they were. How little they knew about the real world. A world of pain and suffering. Her teachers had called in a meeting some time ago. They wanted to talk to her parents about her behaviour in class and in the breaks, how she was all alone and like “dark” in her attitude, of course she was a bright girl, actually the smartest one in class, but still she was always alone. Her parents had said something about some problems at home and forgot all about it.
At dinner that night Nick was invited. She was scared of him and every movement he made her fear him even more. He was charming and innocent, played an innocent young man, with no worried what so ever. But they both knew that it was wrong. Her mother looked at him a certain way, a way she remembered she had looked at her father before they “grew apart” as they called it. With love and lust in her eyes. Danielle looked at them and realized that they were more than friends. They were sleeping together, she looked at him and didn’t look away when he looked back at her, he blinked at her and she smiled and lifted one eyebrow. Now she had it! This was too much to handle. She had to do something. She remembered one of the boys in class, who had said that he had gotten a new father after his parents had divorced, and she looked at Nick and her mother and fear arose in her mind. Nick as her father, never!! Oh my God.
After dinner she went outside to get some fresh air, there she met Nick, she wasn't afraid of him anymore, she just hated him with all she had inside of her, the hate was everything right now, and she wanted to kill him. He looked at her, smiled and said; “You’re a bright young kid, Danielle, I know you know about your mother and I. I didn’t expect you to get it, but you did, you surprise me all the time.” She looked at him and smiled, “Thank you,” she said, and continued, “I don’t care about you, my mother or father or anyone else!! I hate you all and I just want to be left alone. But you cant leave me alone, now can you!” he looked at her with his eyes wide open, he blinked and walked up to her, he stood really close to her and smiled an uncertain smile, “what do you mean, I love you, cant you feel that, little girl? I love you and I want you, like I want your mother! And I hate you as well, I’d like to kill you and to hit you, and keep hitting you until your own mother, that whore, cant recognize you anymore!” She looked at him and turned around on her heels and walked away. The tears came up in her eyes, but she didn’t notice them, she knew she couldn’t kill him, he was too strong.
That night he came to her, and he dragged her to the stable again, did what he had been doing for so long now, only this time he didn’t care about leaving marks on her, he had never beaten her up that much, this time he used a knife and he cut in her back…he whipped her and raped her. This time was he did it over and over again; some times she was unconscious, sometimes painfully awake. Suddenly he stopped and cut her down. Leaved there on the concrete floor. She looked at him walk away, she could hear him cry, she didn’t understand why, but she didn’t care.
The next morning Danielle’s mother looked in Danielle’s room to see if she was there, but she wasn't, she called her name, but no response. She walked outside to see if Castello was in the stable, and he was, she touched him and walked into the room where they kept all the gear. When she opened the door she turned pale and screamed. There she was, hanging from the attic in a leash form some riding gear. Her face was swollen and pale and her little tongue was hanging from her mouth. She was almost naked and she had been bleeding before she died, her hands and back were all covered in dried blood.
The dead girls mother screamed again.

It's a Movie!

Posted 14 May 2002, 4.20 am by Berly

Here's a good little movie done in flash. It takes a little time to load, but I thought it was worth it. Maybe I'm just easily amused. Oh, yeah. Well - give it a shot. If you hate it, you can always stop watching it.


Honest. It's called Gooberstory. It's about a peanut. Well, all peanuts, actually...just watch it will ya?

An oldie...

Posted 14 May 2002, 1.46 am by Jake

This is a paper I wrote a while back about the negative effects of economic globalization. Bear with it, because it IS kinda old, mainly deals with American viewpoints and some of my opinions have changed slightly since then. Have fun... EDIT: When I switched to single-space it screwed my format, my indentions disappeared. Curses.

There seems to be an outpouring of new world views lately. Some are based purely on human rights, some on ecological sustainability, and a few that are based on politics. The most prominent worldview right now, however, is globalization. As trillions of dollars are made in international business transactions everyday, some people wonder as to why we don’t set the system of “global economics” into action. Most people don’t analyze all the drawbacks of such a system, or most people don’t care to. Of course. They’re the ones making these international trades and bargaining for their next trophy stocks.
Lawrence Summers, former chief economist of World Bank, states that “There are no…limits to the carrying capacity of the Earth that are likely to bind at any time in the foreseeable future. There isn’t a risk of an apocalypse due to global warming or anything else. The idea that the world is headed over an abyss is profoundly wrong. The idea that we should put limits on growth because of some natural limit is a profound error”(qtd. in Rees/Wackernagel 363). Not only is this statement unbelievably arrogant, it is a “profound error” as well. We already live in an overpopulated world filled with consumption. If we factor in more economic growth, even the profits projected won’t hold a candle to the amount of natural resources used/destroyed to make that growth happen. Biomass, building products, electricity…each of those are a component of business growth. You can’t build chain stores without land and materials. You can’t run those chain stores without proper utilities. To assume that an already stressed ecosystem is going to provide room for billions of job opportunities is a terrible mistake. Sadly enough, most people subscribe to the same beliefs as Mr. Summers. Of course, this isn’t the only problem with globalization.
“Globalization is a myth, it never occurred anyway,”writes economist Alan Rugman. A professor at Indiana University, he wrote a book called The End of Globalization in which he touts globalization as being a myth largely due to the fact that manufacturing and service activity is regionalized locally, not globally (qtd. Ferkiss 16).
Even if the phenomena has never occurred, could it? Since corporations gained the upper hand after the Santa Clara County v. Southern Pacific Railroad trial during which the U.S. Supreme Court ruled private corporations as “natural people” under the Constitution and therefore were entitled to protection under the Bill of Rights, they have little or no restraint to do what they please (Lasn 68). Even if corporations do go global, what’s to stop them from carrying these policies and freedoms into a foreign country, or even abolishing these in order to take advantage of freedoms at their destination?
“In many ways, business is the primary engine driving globalization, but it would be a mistake to conclude that the implications of globalization will be limited to the commercial arena”(qtd Rothkopf 266). Not only will we have to worry about the homogenization of economics, but globalization is bound to take a cultural turn as well. Many American brand names are already embraced overseas (Coke, McDonald’s). English is being spoken more often by foreigners, and the constant exchange of information practically requires people to become multilingual. Many people see this as an interesting phenomena, because it would promote unity. Unity on a planet of billions of people, all different in their own right? Seems to be an odd(and nearly impossible) accomplishment. The only drawback to cultural globalization is the loss of cultural diversity. Whether it will be a massive or insignificant loss cannot be foretold.
“Rather than measure the success of an economy according to gross domestic product (which includes, among other anti-human measurements, the cost of weapons building and pollution cleanup expenses), quality-of-life indicators measure an economy by how well the people are doing. These take into account infant mortality rates, hunger rates, literacy rates, and the like. Redefining the world according to people, not profit, is the ultimate objective”(Hartman 19). Our government, with its numerous financial advisors and experts, could re-organize the gross domestic product a little more effectively. For example, riding a bicycle or city bus contributes less to the GDP than driving your own vehicle. Raising your own food contributes less to the GDP than buying it at a supermarket. The GDP fails to take into account negative factors such as the depletion of resources, air and water pollution, and human health problems. If economists are to gauge the progress of the new global economy, maybe they should reform the GDP system before they put it into effect. As Mr. Hartman said, maybe using quality-of-life indicators is a smarter move. Human life and progress should be their primary concern. After all, they can’t sell their products to a dwindling population. Yet again, greed overpowers common sense, and it is likely that they will institute the GDP system as a global yardstick of progress.
With the impending clash of cultures over the policies of globalization, the outcome of America’s race for global economics may never take full effect. Indigenous peoples around the world are battling for their own rights, and they don’t exactly welcome global economics. Protestors are taking to the streets in front of summits such as the World Trade Organization to make their opinions heard. People from different countries are gathering on Internet message boards to exchange their theories on the new policies. And with the rise of opposition to the facets of globalization, global economics may end up as only a myth.

Works Cited

Ferkiss, Victor. “Is Globalization a Myth?” The Futurist Nov. 2001: 16.
Hart, James E and Mark Owen Lombardi. Taking Sides: Clashing Views on
Controversial Global Issues. Connecticut: McGraw-Hill, 2001.
Hartman, Andrew. “The Globalization of a Movement.” The Humanist Nov.-Dec. 2001:
Lasn, Kalle. Culture Jam. New York: HarperCollins, 2000
Rees, William E. and Mathis Wackernagel. Investing in Natural Capital: The Ecological
Economics Approach to Sustainability. New York: Island Press, 1994.


Posted 12 May 2002, 11.24 pm by Sickan

Thinking of the future and what will come while the magic of Moulin Rouge is still running in my veins.
It is quite difficult not to lose hope in love and yet not believe much more in its power after that movie.
I asked myself if I ever had been so much in love that I could crawl up on rooftops and sing my love out – will I ever be so much in love or is it just that certain magic of that brilliant movie? I sat and felt quite sad and heartbroken, depressing really to think of, the question remained in my head, had I ever been in love? Yes I have - many times.
I have been in love with people many times.
I cant help myself it is like this benevolent force inside of me I cant control.
But it is love or is it me being a caring person and does that difference ever matter when it comes to love. I know that I love my brother on a different level than I love the ones I give my heart to.
Giving my heart to people is very difficult for me actually. I try with every fibre in my body to just for once trust in my significant other, but so often I just find myself unable to trust people – and yet I trust too much or do I? Is trust what love is build on?
I love few people in this world, and those people I will give my life to. But I fall in love almost every day, its like there is so much to fall in love with I cant take it. It can be a song, a flower, painting or a person.
The sole feeling of the objects existence is sometimes too much for me to cope with.
The purpose in their lives or the colour of the flower can hypnotize me for hours.
I can sit in my living room window looking at people rushing to unknown destinations and I just want to sing to them not to forget themselves in their hurry.
Why do I even think that? Why do I care about them? Do I even care or do I just project my own feelings to them and thereby find some rest from the all the feelings in my heart just waiting to get out?
All those feelings I have to hide from myself and others will someday come out and perhaps I will give all that love to one person and that person will be scared of me, that is what frightens me the most.
I try everyday to let some of them go, get them out either by singing, painting or running until I fall from exhaustion.
I can not hide forever.
Some day all these feelings will come out and they may not be as beautiful as I want them to be.
I sometimes worry that the result of hiding them can be that I do something dangerous or just hurt someone because no one can ever give what I want. What do I want?
Maybe I just have to forget it all and hide them forever and thereby keep on protecting myself and others from myself and my feelings.
Even though I know that is impossible.

Create your own desktop icons!!

Posted 12 May 2002, 2.29 pm by Craig

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Props to Green Mamba for bringing the weirdness


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