Age is strictly a case of mind over matter. If you don't mind, it doesn't matter

I'm psychic. And sore.

This old man
He played once
He played knick-knack
On my drums

And so on and so forth.

I'm gonna be sore tomorrow

Today a full-length day with the team I work in. Talk of strategy, product development, the future. Fairly interesting and thought provoking. Afterwards, we played curling. Curling! Boule on ice. Or maybe chess on ice. Whatever. It was fun, and more exhausting than I thought. Now, chili and beer. Sweet. Oh, the pic is good beer, bad beer.

You talk to God, you're religious. God talks to you, you're psychotic

Nothing can piss me off faster than religion. And I do mean nothing. My guess is I was seething visibly as I sat on the subway after I read Metro's short article referencing this story this morning.

So "the abortion, the elimination of an innocent life, was more serious" than the repeated rape of a nine year-old girl? Fuck you. Fuck you and the pathetic excuse for a world view you call religion.

I know, I know, I should be making detailed arguments here, not resorting to cursing, but I can't help myself. This is the kind of asinine bullshit that renders rational arguments obsolete. To quote Doctor House:

Rational arguments don't usually work on religious people. Otherwise there would be no religious people.

I can understand the fascination with religion, I really can. The need to find some sense and order in the world is easily satisfied that way, and you can go to sleep with a smile on your face, safe in the knowledge that if something bad happens to you or someone you love, you can always rationalize it with “'twas God's will”. I call it the easy way out.

Some people I know, rational, intelligent, fantastic people, are religious. I have yet to discuss the intricacies of their faith with them, because I know I'm running a very real risk of escalating the discussion to a level where I'll say something I shouldn't. But I will have to, at some point. I need to understand. I need to understand why these rational, intelligent, fantastic people have chosen religion.

For now, I remain upset. Angry. Unable to understand how someone can still let standards set in the Dark Ages dictate the way they should tell others to live their lives. If there's anywhere in the civilized world (which is a stretch, considering the subject matter) that is in need of a bloody revolution, it's the Vatican. Let them taste a bit of that fire and brimstone, and see how they feel.

There were pretty songs

Apart from the walk down to the local sunkhak to buy pizza, I haven't moved more than ten feet from the couch today. Last night was fairly subdued, but we didn't get to bed until two thirty, and I feel the lack of sleep. So, a string of episodes of Spaced, and fatty foods, in the company of two excellent friends. My kind of day.

The anticipation last night was brutal. I've been a fan of Wintersleep since 2003, when I read a review at ThePRP and then found a fragment of an mp3 of “Orca”, that we listened to over and over and over. Since I'm the CD buying type, I tried finding the CD, but it was impossible. The only place I found it only shipped within Canada.

An email to the band led to contact with then bassist Jud, who was kind enough to send me the CD. Now that there is concern for a fan. We emailed a bit, and Mah Girl and I translated their bio to Swedish, since they had for some reason decided to have it in as many languages as possible on their homepage.

When their second CD came out, I ordered it, a tee and a few other CDs directly from their label, which was run by the band. The package took weeks to arrive, traveling as it did by boat across the Atlantic (and quite possibly sherpa and llama before that from the depths of Canada's wilderness). When the package arrived, there was a tire track straight across it. No kidding, an actual tire track. I can understand a package being dropped, but dropped and then run over? Unlikely.

A few CD cases were damaged, and the disc from the singer's other band, Kary, was broken. The email explaining it all was met with a short “Dude, that's harsh. New stuff is in the mail”. This time via air mail. So now I have two copies of the second Wintersleep CD; one in a damaged case, the second one still wrapped in plastic.

The third CD, I sort of missed. It was released last year, and I didn't get it until a few months ago. There's no reasonable explanation for it, it just sort of happened. Which is weird, since I love the first two. Whatever. By that point I had given up on seeing the band in Sweden. They'd been in Europe a few times, but never close enough to just go see.

So last night was the culmination of a six year long wait. Seeing a band I love live is as close to a religious experience as I can ever get, and there have been many extreme highlights over the years. Wintersleep didn't rank among the best, for a few reasons (too short a gig, not enough songs from the older albums, kind of an anticlimax at the end, and the vocals were too low in the mix at times), but it was still a great show.

As we walked out, a few of the band members were outside, smoking. I walked over, told them what a great show it was and explained I was the guy who translated their bio. They were mildly surprised, to say the least.

So. Full circle. Now they need to come here again and play for two hours, and play more old songs. I'm such a fan boy.

This calls for a delicate blend of psychology and extreme violence

Very Metal, to quote Vyvyan Basterd.

Thanks to Matthias for the link. You metal nerd, you.

Wish there was something real

NIN: Wish live with Ben & Greg from The Dillinger Escape Plan - Adelaide, 2.28.09 [HD] from Nine Inch Nails on Vimeo.

Not quite the total chaos that is the Dillinger Escape Plan live, but a fantastic combo nonetheless. And nobody got their eye poked out.

To achieve great things, two things are needed: a plan, and not quite enough time

I've never been much for planning ahead. This is where everyone I know go “Liar!” but we're talking about two different things. When it comes to my day to day life, meeting up with friends, etc, I do plan ahead. A lot. In fact, I'm a real control freak. If I leave the office for lunch and don't have at least an idea of where I'll be eating, I become a nuisance. A pain in the ass. A never ending tirade of questions about where, when, how, why.

When I say I don't plan ahead, I'm instead referring to life. To the bigger issues. Work, for example. I never planned on being where I am today, as product manager at Sweden's second largest telecom company. It's all circumstances that have brought me here, circumstances and knowing the right people at the right time.

I don't really have a goal when it comes to my working life. And long-term, I usually don't have goals when it comes to other aspects of my life either. I'm very much a go with the flow kind of guy, in that respect.

And so it is with writing as well. On some level I have aspirations of being published, but I think I never really considered it as a viable option, until a guy in my writing class got a book deal a year and a half ago (I think it was). However, work and life in general has, as many of you know, been getting in the way of my writing, and I haven't taken any significant steps forward in a long time.

This is about to change. I now have a very specific goal with my writing. On February 20th 2010, I need to have two freakin' perfect short stories, of 2500 – 6000 words each, ready and polished and tweaked. I am applying to a six week long writing sci fi/horror/fantasy writing workshop in the US, and need them for the application.

To put this in perspective, the longest story I've completed and feel content with, is 683 words... I do have longer things written, but not finished and certainly not good enough to send away.

So. I have a goal. And my work cut out for me.