3/5 of a Mile in 10 Seconds

Join our band mailing list!

Well, finally, I succumbed, so here are the questions from andrewwyld.

1. Why "gonzo"?

( Collapse )

2. Is the glass half-empty, or half-full?

( Collapse )

3. Do you believe in a thing called love?

( Collapse )

4. What experience most changed your life?

( Collapse )

5. Sum yourself up in under ten words.

( Collapse )

My new wallpaper is actually a proof of Pythagoras' theorem I saw in The Road To Reality by Roger Penrose.

This journal was actually created after kamountjoy introduced me to the sage of lunacy that was Dr Hunter S Thompson.  I've tried to live a more gonzo life since she did.  Generally this has involved insane quantities of caffeine and taking on projects I cannot possibly afford the time for, a very British interpretation, I suppose.

Dr Thompson has now killed himself, it seems.  I do not know how or why, only that he has, and that I should record the fact here.

Goodbye.  We'll all miss you.

I have created a webcomic.

For more info, google foonly.

Question:

• Can God create a rock he cannot lift?

Answers:

1. If you can define such a rock without circularity (or, in this case, some form of logical Möbius band), yes.
2. Of course.  They're called asteroids.  While they are in free fall, there's no meaningful sense in which you can lift one.
3. This is just an excuse to ask if God can do logically impossible things, isn't it?  Tchuh, I don't know, you pesky kids!  If he can, of course, the value of truth becomes identical to the value of falsehood, as is clearly demonstrable in symbolic logic, which means the answer to every question can be "yes" (or "no", but that doesn't matter).  Hence if God can create a rock he cannot lift, he can do anything at all.  Thus to fulfil this requirement is a sufficient condition for omnipotence.  Now go away and make the tea.

Early this morning I was informed (by a friend) that my bladder is not Year 2000 compliant.  This means that, at midnight on New Year's Eve, my bladder will fail catastrophically, and some days later, by about, say, January 4th, my kidneys will fail, or, possibly, I shall burst like a distended water balloon.  Either way, I shall die ignominiously -- and all because some programmer in the eighties thought I'd have an upgrade bladder by now.  Makes you mad, doesn't it?  My one consolation is that I intend to be sitting on the top of that programmer's 17-inch monitor when I "go".  That should be quite expensive ....

Trees are no longer a comfort,
Messages sad in the wires,
My hair is hung down with the blackest of rain that I'm feeling.

Weird Of Hermiston, Jack Bruce

In which Arthur Dent discovers it his repeated fate to be reincarnated and killed by Agrajag all the time, but through some form of continuity between lifetimes saves the world from the Vogons ... again.

I'll be 27 tomorrow.  If you happen to be free, come to the Barfly in Camden at around seven, where we're going to watch a gig.  Music starts at 7:30, drinking starts now.