I shouldn't really be writing right now. Big and wee things wracking one's sensibility but, more than anything else, I should be not here, not anywhere. Shouldn't have been. Last night I met a guy who had become, in the preceeding hours, the father of his third child. Same age as me, I think. He bought me a drink and we christened her something. *In absentia*. She was with her mother and he stormed off under the falsely dawning suspicion that I was gay to go relieve the nanny of the other two. Given a dose of limbic sensibility what you *actually* do is placed in something of a contrast to what you want. Extrapolating a little farther into society in general: if one is perceived to be amongst the servant classes; you'll be abused, which places one awkwardly: neither wishing to abuse nor wishing to be abused... where am I? I tend to snicker and make rude comments which is, as you know, rather pathetic. The difference between served and servant is not social class; beauty; wealth or perception: it is attitude, and this attitudional game stinks. The gentleman/woman state is won of hard experience of how we *all* live: fakes, queens, tramps, malcontents, middle, upper and lower classes, marmosets, zebras... the daily gamut of those encountered in life, dreams and nightmares. There exists a possibility of structure in mad situations: only the madman recognises it, and the bored are charmed by it and the sensible are alarmed by it. There is no difference here in the horror and anger we all feel so, we remain in the safety of humanity. Boundaries are not pushed beyond this: to attempt is delusion. Understand your enemy. Why not kill enemies? Because they've become friends. So (I paraphrase) said an ex US President. Wheecht! I like intense, slowly. This is Gordon/gogron/rouss's E-mail now. It deflates me to announce this: makes me feel bad to know I'm not someone other than me: a person who doesn't want to change because he has a humourless mastery of trash that shall remain unrelinquished. In any case: change requires another. Balancing act. Forgive my abruptness here but I spent 20 years playing 'piggy in the middle'. I have the capacity but hardly the inclination. If it's any consolation, I'm much prettier than I was a few days ago. Not exactly tall dark and handsome, but ok enough to greet the eyes in sad lust at every girl on Princes' St. And on the bus, listening to 'Last Nite'. It's a bit weird writing posts to sinister. Things are a bit weird. I know one should put on a brave face but, the hell! let's SCREAM!!!! Gordon, who is going to watch 'legally blonde' _______________________________________________________________________ Never pay another Internet phone bill! Freeserve AnyTime, for all the Internet access you want, day and night, only £12.99 per month. Sign-up at http://www.freeserve.com/time/anytime +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister@missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo@missprint.org. WWW: http://www.missprint.org/sinister +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "peculiarly deranged fanbase" +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "frighteningly named Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +-+ "sick posse of f**ked in the head psycho-fans" - NME June 2001 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+