I have news! Fetch yourself some tea before you sit down; you'll need something to spit out when I tell you otherwise you'll just look silly. Ready? Okay.
Look at the top of the page. See it? No, not there, the address bar. Your friendly neighbourhood Kabamf now comes with his very own domain name, or website if you will. Now you can spit your tea out if you haven't already. Yes, this simple blog is taking it's first steps towards becoming a full fledged website. They grow up so fast *sniff*
Over the comming months I will have some shiny new things to throw at you. Some will be pleasant while othrs will surprise you like a man dropping down from above, naked and screaming. Hopefully somewhere down the line the blog will get a shiny new design to go along with the shiny new domain name. Once again I must thank Bluebird for pushing me to set up shop in this little corner of the webnet. Writing here brings me a lot of joy and the increase in traffic over the past few months has filled me with a wonderful sense of achievement, so thank you to all the readers out there. Now I must fly, for there is evil to smite, wickedness to punish, injustice to avenge, and chocolate to devour. Util next time citizens!
...baby-stepping to success!
Friday, 29 July 2011
Thursday, 28 July 2011
Lost 'N' Found
My brain, as it so often does, decided that I should post something. Being a good boy and not wanting to anger the creature in my head I complied. I didn't, however, agree to what I would be posting and so I donned my mental headlamp and went spelunking (is it just me or does that always sound like a dirty act?) into my computer files. My first discovery was a half finished conclusion to a half finished post from some time ago. I promptly closed the window. My second find was all the more interesting though; a file titled confusingly enough as 'CAI ap bactoce'. What could this strange name be? I thought to myself. Is it in code? Or perhaps in another language? I stared at it in wonder, feeling something akin to an adventurer finding a new civilization.
The mouse moved, two clicks, and the file blazed into life. Before me was a rhyme written in my usual two line style. As I read the words a slight sense of recognition overcame me, when suddenly the reason for the curious file name stumbled from the text and slapped me across the face. Balls, I thought. This wasn't some mystery file received via the webnet that would start a chain of events involving shady government agencies, seductive spies, and one would expect a healthy amount of both ninjas and explosions. Nor was it some miracle of science that would bequeath on me fantastic powers, forcing me into some secret war. No, the reason for the words 'CAI ap bactoce' was both mundane and somewhat shameful; I was drunk. Somehow, some-when I had had arrived at my computer after engaging in that timeless act of getting fit-shaced and decided that I should write a poem.
My excitement snuffed out, I finished the thing with two final lines and now ladies and gentleman of the information super highway, with a title that seems most fitting, I give you the poem of note.
CAP ap bactoce
My eyes are closing, mind blank of thought.
Yet a revelation cannot be caught.
It bobs and weaves through muddled brain
From twists and turns it does not refrain.
Answers given are answers lost
Mental strife the constant cost.
Do I speak and risk being stung?
Or stand firm and loosen tongue?
Another rhyme, you say to yourself.
But did I promise anything top shelf?
These lines are simple, those born of booze
And forced through mind begging to choose.
I could go on and rhyme some more;
String words together until I snore.
Instead I'll end this wandering verse
And stop my nonsense before it gets worse.
The most amazing thing about all this? There were no mistakes in the typing or spelling whatsoever. Thanks Drunk-Me.
The mouse moved, two clicks, and the file blazed into life. Before me was a rhyme written in my usual two line style. As I read the words a slight sense of recognition overcame me, when suddenly the reason for the curious file name stumbled from the text and slapped me across the face. Balls, I thought. This wasn't some mystery file received via the webnet that would start a chain of events involving shady government agencies, seductive spies, and one would expect a healthy amount of both ninjas and explosions. Nor was it some miracle of science that would bequeath on me fantastic powers, forcing me into some secret war. No, the reason for the words 'CAI ap bactoce' was both mundane and somewhat shameful; I was drunk. Somehow, some-when I had had arrived at my computer after engaging in that timeless act of getting fit-shaced and decided that I should write a poem.
My excitement snuffed out, I finished the thing with two final lines and now ladies and gentleman of the information super highway, with a title that seems most fitting, I give you the poem of note.
CAP ap bactoce
My eyes are closing, mind blank of thought.
Yet a revelation cannot be caught.
It bobs and weaves through muddled brain
From twists and turns it does not refrain.
Answers given are answers lost
Mental strife the constant cost.
Do I speak and risk being stung?
Or stand firm and loosen tongue?
Another rhyme, you say to yourself.
But did I promise anything top shelf?
These lines are simple, those born of booze
And forced through mind begging to choose.
I could go on and rhyme some more;
String words together until I snore.
Instead I'll end this wandering verse
And stop my nonsense before it gets worse.
The most amazing thing about all this? There were no mistakes in the typing or spelling whatsoever. Thanks Drunk-Me.
Monday, 25 July 2011
Extra Pillows and Added Demons
Mr Sandman,
Bring me my Z's,
These sleepless nights are now getting to me.
You owe so much you mysterious rover.
Just make these tired days be over.
Sandman,
Why did you leave?
My resting state, I just can't achieve.
Come on back I beg you please,
Mr Sandman bring me my Z's.
Mr Sandman,
Where have you gone?
This absence of yours just isn't on.
I toss and turn and try forcing sleep.
Please don't make me count more of those sheep.
Sandman,
I must concede.
I now have more time to sit down and read.
Was this your plan then all along?
Mr Sandman where have you gone?
Mr Sandman,
Where are those Z's?
You just left without talking to me.
Twenty four years and then not a word,
Who goes and does that you evil turd.
Sandman,
I'm so sorry.
Without my sleep I'm becoming grumpy.
Please return me to my dreams.
Mr Sandman where are, tell me where are,
Mr Sandman where are those Z's?
*Jazz hands* That's how the dance routine to accompany this would have ended anyway. If you hadn't already cottoned on that this is simply a rewrite of this famous track, then I don't know what to tell you other than "Hey, this is a rewrite of this famous track".
The keen detectives (or Batmans) amongst you may have noticed that I'm having trouble sleeping. Fortunately it isn't resulting in me being sleepy during the day, so that part of the song was an untruth. Call it artistic license. I have no idea where, when or why this started but all of a sudden my usual scheduled time of going to bed now results in me laying in bed in my unmentionables (another image just for you, ladies), staring at the ceiling or just laid with my eyes shut willing myself to sleep. It isn't often one tries to will oneself into unconsciousness but what can I say, I'm a risk taker like that. The only thing I can think of is that a few weeks ago I added a second pillow to my nest and I am now sleeping better, meaning I'm not nearly as tired as I used to be. Twenty four and a half years and I finally figure out how many pillows I need. When teachers say some people learn at their own pace they hadn't met me yet.
Meanwhile, there is a new book in my life, or books as the case may be. Her name is The Demon Trilogy and she's a Scorpio who enjoys diverging between three lead characters from childhood to adulthood in what I find to be quite an original world. The gist of it is this, every night demons rise up from the ground and lay waste to anything and anyone they can get their talons on. The only protection humans have is to hide behind wards, old symbols of power that repel demons, and hope that they don't fail. While they can be fought against, the demons are too tough and numerous for nearly everyone to risk it. To make matters worse the combat wards, symbols to fight back with, have been lost to history. The story begins 300 years after the demons appeared. Cue the heroes and world changing events!
The first book, titled The Painted Man, took hold of me and I devoured it in no time at all, swiftly buying the sequel, The Desert Spear, and carrying on from my kindle, that sexy little device I spend each night with. The concept of fear and courage/bravery seems to be the main vein of the first book, with the lead characters all experiencing it in different ways. The story also showcases the duality of people as well and you see that it isn't just in the night where the monsters lie. With a good two thirds left to go in the second book I'm already getting anxiou for the third and final which is yet to be published. If you're a fan of fantasy books and fancy a change from those that delve into the lives of wizards and elves, then you may well enjoy these books as much as I have. Action, adventure, romance, horror, the stories cover the lot. I'd give them two thumbs up, but I'd have to put the book down to do so. Something I'm not quite ready to do yet.
Bring me my Z's,
These sleepless nights are now getting to me.
You owe so much you mysterious rover.
Just make these tired days be over.
Sandman,
Why did you leave?
My resting state, I just can't achieve.
Come on back I beg you please,
Mr Sandman bring me my Z's.
Mr Sandman,
Where have you gone?
This absence of yours just isn't on.
I toss and turn and try forcing sleep.
Please don't make me count more of those sheep.
Sandman,
I must concede.
I now have more time to sit down and read.
Was this your plan then all along?
Mr Sandman where have you gone?
Mr Sandman,
Where are those Z's?
You just left without talking to me.
Twenty four years and then not a word,
Who goes and does that you evil turd.
Sandman,
I'm so sorry.
Without my sleep I'm becoming grumpy.
Please return me to my dreams.
Mr Sandman where are, tell me where are,
Mr Sandman where are those Z's?
*Jazz hands* That's how the dance routine to accompany this would have ended anyway. If you hadn't already cottoned on that this is simply a rewrite of this famous track, then I don't know what to tell you other than "Hey, this is a rewrite of this famous track".
The keen detectives (or Batmans) amongst you may have noticed that I'm having trouble sleeping. Fortunately it isn't resulting in me being sleepy during the day, so that part of the song was an untruth. Call it artistic license. I have no idea where, when or why this started but all of a sudden my usual scheduled time of going to bed now results in me laying in bed in my unmentionables (another image just for you, ladies), staring at the ceiling or just laid with my eyes shut willing myself to sleep. It isn't often one tries to will oneself into unconsciousness but what can I say, I'm a risk taker like that. The only thing I can think of is that a few weeks ago I added a second pillow to my nest and I am now sleeping better, meaning I'm not nearly as tired as I used to be. Twenty four and a half years and I finally figure out how many pillows I need. When teachers say some people learn at their own pace they hadn't met me yet.
Meanwhile, there is a new book in my life, or books as the case may be. Her name is The Demon Trilogy and she's a Scorpio who enjoys diverging between three lead characters from childhood to adulthood in what I find to be quite an original world. The gist of it is this, every night demons rise up from the ground and lay waste to anything and anyone they can get their talons on. The only protection humans have is to hide behind wards, old symbols of power that repel demons, and hope that they don't fail. While they can be fought against, the demons are too tough and numerous for nearly everyone to risk it. To make matters worse the combat wards, symbols to fight back with, have been lost to history. The story begins 300 years after the demons appeared. Cue the heroes and world changing events!
The first book, titled The Painted Man, took hold of me and I devoured it in no time at all, swiftly buying the sequel, The Desert Spear, and carrying on from my kindle, that sexy little device I spend each night with. The concept of fear and courage/bravery seems to be the main vein of the first book, with the lead characters all experiencing it in different ways. The story also showcases the duality of people as well and you see that it isn't just in the night where the monsters lie. With a good two thirds left to go in the second book I'm already getting anxiou for the third and final which is yet to be published. If you're a fan of fantasy books and fancy a change from those that delve into the lives of wizards and elves, then you may well enjoy these books as much as I have. Action, adventure, romance, horror, the stories cover the lot. I'd give them two thumbs up, but I'd have to put the book down to do so. Something I'm not quite ready to do yet.
Tuesday, 19 July 2011
Don't Be So Rube!
For someone who advocates simplicity over the complicated, it's odd that one of my favourite things to watch are Rube Goldberg machines. Now some of you might be thinking to yourself what exactly is such a machine though it is more than likely you've seen several, while others might be making jokes about me being simple, for those I say this:
You're not coming to my birthday party!
No cake for them. Anyway. A Rube Goldberg machine is best described as a device that performs a simple task via a complicated and over-engineered action, often in the form of a chain reaction. Wallace & Gromit have many of these in their adventures. Other examples are littered throughout pop culture; the opening of Back to the Future (sadly I couldn't find a good clip of this), how one gains entrance to The Goonies home (with bonus truffle shuffle!), and of course a more modern one. It's not just movies either. Many of you may remember the TV commercial Honda put out several years ago displaying various car parts interacting with one another and culminating in the presentation of the car. Even the music industry has dabbled in the magic of the RBM with the band Ok Go using one in their video for the song This Too Shall Pass. I've even seen a man build one in his apartment with the function of proposing to his girlfriend. Needless to say she said yes. I'm almost certain she may have um-ed and ah-ed about it without the machine. Yes, the Rube Goldberg machine has permeated the media over the years and I for one and happy for it. I'm not alone in my adoration either; annual contests have sprung up around the world, inviting people to try their hand at building ever more elaborate contraptions in order to blow up a balloon, juice an orange or water a plant. On top of being fun, these contests encourage fresh thinking with the main contest in the USA sponsored by big corporate names such as Lockheed Martin.
We've all lined up some dominoes and set them tumbling at some point in our lives. I've always wanted to have a go at making one myself and who knows, maybe I will somewhere down the road. There are even people out there whose very jobs are to create these wonderful feats of engineering, and while I'm sure it can get stressful at times having to reset everything after each attempt, tweaking steps hear and there, the finished piece must bring a great sense of accomplishment. Each action and reaction precisely measured and coordinated to get you where you want to go. An idea that could be easily applied to day-by-day life. No rushed steps, just one measured moment after the other until you're where you need to be.
Mull that over the next time you keep stumbling from one disaster to the next. But don't forget to have a little fun along the way. These guys did.
[EDIT: I'm actually ashamed of how I ended this. "Applied to day-by-day life." UGH! What was I thinking. Pretend I didn't try to be deep or some such nonsense and said something gosh darned hilarious instead.]
You're not coming to my birthday party!
No cake for them. Anyway. A Rube Goldberg machine is best described as a device that performs a simple task via a complicated and over-engineered action, often in the form of a chain reaction. Wallace & Gromit have many of these in their adventures. Other examples are littered throughout pop culture; the opening of Back to the Future (sadly I couldn't find a good clip of this), how one gains entrance to The Goonies home (with bonus truffle shuffle!), and of course a more modern one. It's not just movies either. Many of you may remember the TV commercial Honda put out several years ago displaying various car parts interacting with one another and culminating in the presentation of the car. Even the music industry has dabbled in the magic of the RBM with the band Ok Go using one in their video for the song This Too Shall Pass. I've even seen a man build one in his apartment with the function of proposing to his girlfriend. Needless to say she said yes. I'm almost certain she may have um-ed and ah-ed about it without the machine. Yes, the Rube Goldberg machine has permeated the media over the years and I for one and happy for it. I'm not alone in my adoration either; annual contests have sprung up around the world, inviting people to try their hand at building ever more elaborate contraptions in order to blow up a balloon, juice an orange or water a plant. On top of being fun, these contests encourage fresh thinking with the main contest in the USA sponsored by big corporate names such as Lockheed Martin.
We've all lined up some dominoes and set them tumbling at some point in our lives. I've always wanted to have a go at making one myself and who knows, maybe I will somewhere down the road. There are even people out there whose very jobs are to create these wonderful feats of engineering, and while I'm sure it can get stressful at times having to reset everything after each attempt, tweaking steps hear and there, the finished piece must bring a great sense of accomplishment. Each action and reaction precisely measured and coordinated to get you where you want to go. An idea that could be easily applied to day-by-day life. No rushed steps, just one measured moment after the other until you're where you need to be.
Mull that over the next time you keep stumbling from one disaster to the next. But don't forget to have a little fun along the way. These guys did.
[EDIT: I'm actually ashamed of how I ended this. "Applied to day-by-day life." UGH! What was I thinking. Pretend I didn't try to be deep or some such nonsense and said something gosh darned hilarious instead.]
Thursday, 14 July 2011
Coloured Untruths
Stumbling upon new music never fails to put me in high spirits. Not just a new band or musician, but one in a genre of music that I wouldn't even think about looking into. My mood is lifted and I become filled with energy, pawing at the ground in anticipation of a new sound. This is exactly what happened to me when I discovered Vermillion Lies.
Vermillion Lies came to my attention through a project update on Kickstarter, a website deserving of an entire post itself for another time. Consisting of sisters Kim & Zoe Boekbinder, Vermillion Lies combines folk and cabaret music into something entirely new. The sisters, calling the music "junk store cabaret", have merged sounds into something that to me gave an almost Gogol Bordello vibe in it's peculiarity. With vocals and instruments split between them and the occasional addition of another musician when live, the songs are filled with piano, guitar, ukelele, triangles, xylophones and in one case a typewriter to remarkable effect. Combined with lyrics that sometimes evoke the debauchery of the cabaret, mild terror and at other times a story, songs like The Astronomer and Circus Apocalypse leap out and take hold of you, occasionally to humorous effect.. The line "your milky ways are all over me," had me snickering like a school boy in a sex ed. class. Ranging from gentle love songs, to classic folk, to gentle blues and to energetic rhythms guaranteed to get your foot tapping at the very least, the girls lead you down paths of wonder, horror and excitement, lured all the way by stunning voices.
Within hours of the find I had gone from testing the waters with some YouTube searches, to diving in clothing and all and putting my money down for the two albums Seperated By Birth and What's In The Box (for digital download). Digging further I was subjected to some news both good and bad; as of 2009 Vermillion Lies had somewhat parted ways, with Zoe & Kim both pursuing solo careers albeit with the intention of performing together at times as Vermillion Lies. The good news? Both now have an album on the shelves and after some Google wizardry and YouTube magic I can safely say that their work is just as good apart as it is together. Kim seems to favour a calmer style with the odd injection of an energetic song, while the same Gogol Bordello vibe I felt is still in some of her tracks as well as the cabaret style. Zoe on the other hand has focussed on the acoustic guitar and retains some of the quirkiness of Vermillion Lies while having some success covering various hits such as Hungry Like the Wolf and Single Ladies, adding her own special style to the songs. The Impossible Girl by Kim Boekbinder and Artichoke Perfume by Zoe Boekbinder are both available to listen to online here and here respectively.
I haven't been as thrilled with a new band or musician since Fink, who still gets played to death in my home. So when you have the time, try telling yourself some Vermillion Lies. You might just believe them.
Vermillion Lies came to my attention through a project update on Kickstarter, a website deserving of an entire post itself for another time. Consisting of sisters Kim & Zoe Boekbinder, Vermillion Lies combines folk and cabaret music into something entirely new. The sisters, calling the music "junk store cabaret", have merged sounds into something that to me gave an almost Gogol Bordello vibe in it's peculiarity. With vocals and instruments split between them and the occasional addition of another musician when live, the songs are filled with piano, guitar, ukelele, triangles, xylophones and in one case a typewriter to remarkable effect. Combined with lyrics that sometimes evoke the debauchery of the cabaret, mild terror and at other times a story, songs like The Astronomer and Circus Apocalypse leap out and take hold of you, occasionally to humorous effect.. The line "your milky ways are all over me," had me snickering like a school boy in a sex ed. class. Ranging from gentle love songs, to classic folk, to gentle blues and to energetic rhythms guaranteed to get your foot tapping at the very least, the girls lead you down paths of wonder, horror and excitement, lured all the way by stunning voices.
Within hours of the find I had gone from testing the waters with some YouTube searches, to diving in clothing and all and putting my money down for the two albums Seperated By Birth and What's In The Box (for digital download). Digging further I was subjected to some news both good and bad; as of 2009 Vermillion Lies had somewhat parted ways, with Zoe & Kim both pursuing solo careers albeit with the intention of performing together at times as Vermillion Lies. The good news? Both now have an album on the shelves and after some Google wizardry and YouTube magic I can safely say that their work is just as good apart as it is together. Kim seems to favour a calmer style with the odd injection of an energetic song, while the same Gogol Bordello vibe I felt is still in some of her tracks as well as the cabaret style. Zoe on the other hand has focussed on the acoustic guitar and retains some of the quirkiness of Vermillion Lies while having some success covering various hits such as Hungry Like the Wolf and Single Ladies, adding her own special style to the songs. The Impossible Girl by Kim Boekbinder and Artichoke Perfume by Zoe Boekbinder are both available to listen to online here and here respectively.
I haven't been as thrilled with a new band or musician since Fink, who still gets played to death in my home. So when you have the time, try telling yourself some Vermillion Lies. You might just believe them.
Monday, 11 July 2011
The Good Uncle, The Bad Uncle and the Ugly Uncle (omit where necessary)
There are many milestones in growing up, most of which are obvious. Leaving home. Your first love. Your first heartbreak. Realising what you want to do with your life. Becoming a parent. Beating that high score your friend set on your game when he borrowed it that one time, thus asserting your dominance as the alpha male and giving you first bite of the antelope you all took down (ah, summer). People write poems about these things. They write stories and sing songs, paint pictures and make movies. Yet today I realised there's at least one thing that doesn't make it into the limelight. Becoming an uncle.
Come November my nephew will be well on his way to soiling himself and dribbling like a champ and I will officially be an uncle, and in doing so I will have one more follower in my quest for world domination. This will be the very first new branch in my immediate family tree. The first grandchild for my parents. Needless to say it is a pretty big deal. Huge in fact! And do you know what my first response was in learning my sister was pregnant?
"Okay."
That was it. After some follow up words from both parties I said goodbye, hung up the phone and then went back to something like playing a game or watching TV. Quite possibly in my underwear (that isn't relevant, but I thought I'd give the ladies something to go on). You see it takes a while for information and events like that to sink in with me. It wasn't until several weeks later when it had become public knowledge and some time after when I first saw my sister and the bump in question, that it dawned on me just how grand an event this was. A child, a baby even, was going to have a very strong connection to me both in blood and emotion. I am to be the little guy's sole uncle. I set my jaw and leapt full force for the wagon. I have now begun referring to my future organ donor as "the most spoiled nephew in the world" a title which I thoroughly intend to play out. I'm fully aware that a spoiled child, sometimes known as spoiled brat, has very negative associations but in this case I mean it purely as a show of the child wanting for very little. Yet I have not bought, purchased, bartered, purloined or acquired a single item for him...it...bump. Being unnecessarily rational at times I realised that until he reaches one full year of age, he will be blissfully unaware of almost everything short of the need for food or attention. Somewhat like a cat only with less fur (probably) and claws (lil'Wolverine? One can hope). Why buy so many things when they will most likely go to waste? Why not save your money? He won't know.
Now if you don't mind me I need to find my good suit. Bank loans are hard to get these days and baby gear is expensive.
NOTE: How awesome is this!?
Come November my nephew will be well on his way to soiling himself and dribbling like a champ and I will officially be an uncle, and in doing so I will have one more follower in my quest for world domination. This will be the very first new branch in my immediate family tree. The first grandchild for my parents. Needless to say it is a pretty big deal. Huge in fact! And do you know what my first response was in learning my sister was pregnant?
"Okay."
That was it. After some follow up words from both parties I said goodbye, hung up the phone and then went back to something like playing a game or watching TV. Quite possibly in my underwear (that isn't relevant, but I thought I'd give the ladies something to go on). You see it takes a while for information and events like that to sink in with me. It wasn't until several weeks later when it had become public knowledge and some time after when I first saw my sister and the bump in question, that it dawned on me just how grand an event this was. A child, a baby even, was going to have a very strong connection to me both in blood and emotion. I am to be the little guy's sole uncle. I set my jaw and leapt full force for the wagon. I have now begun referring to my future organ donor as "the most spoiled nephew in the world" a title which I thoroughly intend to play out. I'm fully aware that a spoiled child, sometimes known as spoiled brat, has very negative associations but in this case I mean it purely as a show of the child wanting for very little. Yet I have not bought, purchased, bartered, purloined or acquired a single item for him...it...bump. Being unnecessarily rational at times I realised that until he reaches one full year of age, he will be blissfully unaware of almost everything short of the need for food or attention. Somewhat like a cat only with less fur (probably) and claws (lil'Wolverine? One can hope). Why buy so many things when they will most likely go to waste? Why not save your money? He won't know.
Now if you don't mind me I need to find my good suit. Bank loans are hard to get these days and baby gear is expensive.
NOTE: How awesome is this!?
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