31 December 2011

Last PLF meeting for 2011

I don't think there'd be many dissenters to the opinion that 2011 has been a pretty shit year all round.

Before the weather turned to custard, kai-boshing our New Year's plans, I spent a fair bit of time sitting in the sun in my undies working on my exegesis. Except I'm not calling it that any more. I've adopted Dad's term for it: my screed. He suggested I remove the 'infelicitous language'. Which I considered. For about 10 seconds.

My supervisor reckons I should apply for an extension, get my head together, and come back to it. Some suggestion I should discuss my work. I said I didn't want to do that.

What I've been doing instead is removing the boring factual historical background stuff and adding in more madness. Not less! More! Nyah ha ha ha ha!

Then, just before the pre-apocalyptic rains began, the PLF held its final meeting for 2011. For those who haven't met the PLF before, it is a not-so-secret society dedicated to the fine art of smoking tobacco through pipes. And because it's been such a shit year, we decided to hold our meeting at PLF HQ, Blandings South.

We started by listening to traditional PLF tobacco smoking songs:

Those are anno 1944 US Army valves driving things there (the ones that look like dildos with anal beads attached, that US Army eh?), driving these things here:

Here is the patron of the PLF and font of all knowledge, the Oracle if you will:

After getting fired up in the Listening Pavilion, we moved round the front to the Fire Pit, past the Croquet Lawn:

And of course when the sun went down and the embers had built up properly, it was time for the Secret Fire-Dance Ritual. But I can't tell you about that. I've probably already said too much:

Blandings South is not in conventional spacetime, you see. It exists outside of it. To get there, or leave, it is necessary to navigate a specially equipped open-top two-seater automobile. Here we are, blasting our way home through the mists of time (note the Colonel's protective eyewear):

I bet this guy got a shock when we suddenly emerged back into the real world:

Here's to 2012! As Mr Frederick Threepwood Esq. puts it, 'Not a year for dieting!'

20 December 2011

Here's Dad...

...showing us how we should dress for Xmas dinner.

(This is, of course, a dirty lie. It's actually Dad getting slaughtered at some Belgian pub in Akkers before seeing Ben get a nice prize a while ago. But, that said, the how we should dress thing still goes.)

15 December 2011

And this is why he is the King

Yeah, so Jagger can suck this guy's fat corpse cock: And now, for an even more awesome contrast: But those piss-anters pale in comparison to The Man:

Draft MFA exegesis

I've been staying away from the computer since sending off my final draft of the MFA exegesis (your work is your thesis, you see, so what you write is an exegesis on that thesis) for comment.

It's still got to through the processes of structural editing and rewriting, copy-editing and proofreading. And I've still to do some drawings for the figures. But all the actual work's done! Woohoo!

Not had a peep out of the supervisor(s) yet. Though he did say the end of the week.

The working title is A strange book of incomprehensible nonsense: Or how I became an intertemporal avant-garde artist and went completely batshit insane.

(It has to have a colon followed by a subtitle so you know it's academic.)

It's the story of how time-travelling back to meet Piero della Francesca affected my painting.

Oh yeah, and I went to see the witchdoctor (on the same day as handing in the draft no less). I've got a diagnosis, bipolar I disorder, and they've put me on the Lithium.

13 December 2011

09 December 2011

Time for some drunkenness

This is a drunken abusive blog post, just cos it's been a while.

I can't be fucked spelling it out for the 50,000,001st time, so take it as read, arseholes.

07 December 2011

Something in Wellington to go to

Well worth trekking up the hill for this I reckon:
Conversation 4.4: The Production of Identity
Tuesday 13 December 2011, 6-7pm
Cultural psychologist Ronald Fisher and art dealer Robert Heald will tease out the notions of cultural value and social taste that underpins the cultivation of the collector. Chaired by David Maskill, Programme Director, Art History.
Free entry, all welcome.
If they give us drinks, I'll heckle. Actually, I'm not sure I need that condition.
visitors since 29 March 2004.