Order Soon Van
Creativity starves insanity
One whole week was spent in 2002 calling up various people to figure out what kind of icon would best fall for them in their profile. One week and a few hours were spent hammering away at the computer getting the copy and blurbs to fit. The end product made the market on time and with much respect. This year's worker spent one month and no time getting later and later while juggling and misappropriating words with pictures. One major note of crow's feet cringe would have to be the hijacking of the favoured spot and copy for someone who has no idea what it means to write with The Tick in mind. The Tick. No one can claim to be "super keen" unless they have a nod toward the great mighty blue. But the cluelessness is rampant and viral.
Soon Van - Friday, 28 March 2003 - 11:00
Trickery and magic are no doubt the spells cast in the interview. On returning to burn a few images onto circular discs and looking out for some chitlins, the unwanted mishap of meeting two new staff members happened upon its way.
From initial impressions and then later on, the pair have absolutely no idea what the hell is going on with the students and their misery. So-called. A good tip in the interview lead up is to find out as much is possible about the company offering the money. Apparently after talking to each of these newbies, they somehow managed to hoodwink the panel and score jobs over two other people from other unis who knew exactly what goes down when the books are thrown about the lecture theatres.
Creepy is another thing this pair happen to be. One has a nose that looks constantly soused and the other with this habit of hawking over the work and writing endeavours of everyone in the room. Fresh from a franchise island of the Dr Moreau variety.
Soon Van - Friday, 28 March 2003 - 10:28
On trying to read a magazine in the library—as it is foolish to spend money on something that won't be read at home, ever, usually—managed to get to the end of the first third of internet.au before two guys—who looked familiar—sat down behind and started jabbering away at whoknowswot. But I tell you whut, they didn't carry on for long. Not when they were sitting behind someone out to make enemies on a Sunday afternoon. They couldn't believe someone had the nerve to ask them to keep it down. Of all places to do so! It then turned to whispers and the rage subsided. One of those.
Soon Van - Wednesday, 26 March 2003 - 12:04
Noticed an old man flagging something down while on the way over to an auction held next to a polling booth. After asking what was going on, somehow ended up with one end of a tallboy while the old man had the other, more weightier end. Hoisted it up and onto the roof rack, which had screws poking out all over the place, and with a dusting of the hands, left as soon as it was all over and nothing more needed to be done. Moving no doubt. Or he and the missus might have been pulling a daring daylight looting of a two storey house.
Either way, the next house was a shell of a house that was described as partly renovated. Wandered through the rooms and climbed the staircase without a railing. One of the agents wanted a name, no luck there. The bidding started at 1500 after earlier in the week being noted at 1400. 300 was the start. It went up by the incremental jumps of ten thousand and then after one man asked for 415 that was taken in as 450, back down to 5 thousand jumps. Every time the auctioneer did not like the price he would threaten to close the bidding and sure enough, someone would jump in with an extra five. It looked like the bids were dead in the water when the price of 445 came. Being the manipulative agent that he was the man asked for the reserve price - something everyone knew he knew. Dead. No sale. Everyone went away unhappy at the shenanigans played by agents from LJHooker. Shysters.
Soon Van - Wednesday, 26 March 2003 - 11:23
The people playing the Hollywood Stock Exchange are a fickle and fearful lot. Pumped some of the badassninja stock into the option that Nicole Kidman would grab the little gold man. Sure, the price was climbling steadily as the days after the Golden Globe moved away. Then the Screen Actors Guild awards happened and Renee won the gong. In an instant all those betting for Nicole jumped ship and headed for Zellweger sending the stocks for Nicole plummeting. Fickle. Solid stocks wasted away on a whim.
Soon Van - Wednesday, 26 March 2003 - 10:33
The huge display for Daredevil in the foyer was pretty cool. Apparently they sometimes do go to people but those people have to know the right people for the transaction. Have to test out the info later on regarding that.
It started off with the righteousness of a few faces in the crowd of empty seats. Just before the trailers were coming to a close the under classified managed to weasel in. Not more than three seats to the right was a rather pudgy foil packet of crisps and then popcorn. And they say obesity is a marvel misunderstood. Next to the chugging factory was a little brother who could not help saying "wow" every other minute or scene.
The mask, flashes of radar, another drop of blood. All "wow" moments according to this pike. Nevertheless, the lights which signal the time of departure for the end of a film remained darkened and the audience were already filing out. True Grit.
Soon Van - Friday, 21 March 2003 - 12:12
A woollen beanie with a thick and heavy DD logo on the flap. A long sleeve tee with signs of crimpling down the right arm where the logo DAREDEVIL is printed and a bullseye on the heart. Not to mention the soundtrack, which, like the ones before, is singing the signs of battered delivery or storage. Quick and easy win for a pack signalling the mark of Daredevil. In the earlier minutes a spattering of eye shadow in a sweltering heat tried to make a plea of dollaraday donations for a company with a heart. No go.
Soon Van - Thursday, 20 March 2003 - 12:45
On what would have been another day of sleeping in beyond single digits the call woke up the haggard muscles and marched them forth into the city. Not one to be sane and logical for anything, a short walk in the morning heat—and the blazing sun—was made, the sunscreen turning the face ghostly white and subjecting the eyeballs to another dose of hurt.
Back there, then to the station and all the while bringing the core up a mighty discomfort. Didn't manage a spotting of the prostesting at Town Hall, a sure sight to have beheld. The timing was off and the lineup turned out into a short jog which yet again brought things up.
And then the wait.
The sweat and the sensation of the caking of the sunblock. A black collar turns white from it all. No clue was found or given to the reason behind the meeting behind the man behind the Small Business Awards but it was a nice time all up. No clue. None.
Soon Van - Thursday, 20 March 2003 - 12:28
Trekking homeward for the past month in the afternoon summer sun has yielded a rather awkward lining around the base of the neck and the space on the face. Eyeballs bloodshot with the night time revelry found in the wee hours of televised entertainment. The skin and the neckline therein is now covered in what looks to be an alternating display of pale skin and tanned skin. Pale. Tanned. Pale. Tanned. Pale. Tanned. Funny if it weren't all due to the laughing and the wheezing the sunscreen seems to make each time it happens to be forgotten.
Soon Van - Tuesday, 18 March 2003 - 11:11
After what seemed like a month—or four weeks—a simple little lunch was held and laminated tokens of completion were marked for the day. A softly spoken man spoke soft of words and encouragement, the same air given and got during the course of development. The potato and pasta salads made their usual appearance for the lunch and given the change from pizzas, grey fish and chips and sandwiches a muchly wanted alteration. Chicken, mounds of it and the bread it rides off on complemented the final meal of the group still not wanting to be there. It was all for the movement of thoughts and the employment of people out of the situation, but a graduation could just as easily return them to the comfortable lull once enjoyed.
Soon Van - Saturday, 15 March 2003 - 13:41
Little black spots growing underneath the cap of a Gatorade bottle, quite freaky. Washing it out with hot water, very touchy. Drinking from the bottle, much relief.
The week was spent with not much intake of the simple of most purities, plain water. Things were done in the vein of a smoker and their carrots. Potato chips with no ante, oranges with the rind all waxed up and blinding, peaches that have stones that shatter at the slightest of movements and everything else in the house that could be eaten to satiate this unnerving feeling of dehydration. The nights were drained and the mornings strung out. Only a few days till the little black spots return and the endless tire.
Soon Van - Friday, 14 March 2003 - 12:59
Still away and the kids come out to play. Haven't seen what the other guest hosts have been like but Vince Vaughn was pretty damn good. There was something about the water. And that voice, like it's here, but held back a little. Sounds like a little screen in the way of things. With the number of times the mugs were moved about he still called the show Late Night.
Soon Van - Friday, 14 March 2003 - 12:37
After a few fruitless months spent reading up on the spines of books, a copy of Mandrake was finally located and taken home. It started one day at 1300 and after many, many reinstalls, unhelpful suicide attempts and just questionable periods of blackness it was put on for the day after. Switching between a Dell with what seems to be a lack of access to the BIOS and then to a box that screams to let everyone know that it's working was not welcome.
The first attempt wasted 6 hours due to a blind CD drive and floppy drive with attention deficit. The next burnt off some four hours and then today the final was only an hour to clean the install.
Usage of such a beast of an OS struggles to move the mouse and open an applicaton or program. But at least the smoothness of it all is appealing.
Soon Van - Friday, 14 March 2003 - 11:35
Yet again a red plastic bag floated down the street and it marked the fact that this episode was still part of the overall arching story that was kicked off in the first oddball episode. This shot of life in the small town of Royston Vassey focussed on a "massage parlour" and all that the quotes of suspicion imply. Find a copy of it—KaZaA, WinMX or an actual VHS copy—and watch it with much open-eyedness. Getting better by the snapshot.
Soon Van - Tuesday, 11 March 2003 - 11:17
Don't recall actually sitting through and watching it when it did finally hit the small free-to-air screens. But so many of the scenes screamed something that nearly sounded like déjà vu. Though entertaining, it was quite frustrating trying to figure just how long ago it was first seen, if it was seen in its entirety back then. Or perhaps there was a "making of" or clip show that happened to play out a lot of the action from the movie.
Soon Van - Tuesday, 11 March 2003 - 11:13
Nasty sight on the weekend with the shrub out front downed in a crazed driver's eyes. The time was around 1630 and nothing was happening, as is the norm and has been since well before graduation last year. From the angle of things the car looked like it might have taken a swipe at the front fencing. But the poor defenceless kerbside plantlife wasn't so lucky. Uprooted and breathing toxic whatevers spewing out of a car, it held back the car, the driver desperately trying to speed off. After getting out and checking the situation, the car was free and ready to do destruction for another day. Senseless destruction of another's property. Not much of a gaping hole in the ground nor did it have long roots, possibly why it was taken out so easily. There was a crowd and it happened oh, so fast.
Soon Van - Tuesday, 11 March 2003 - 10:17
The time on the metal cuttings dressing the dial of the clock face haven't moved in over a month. Three differently named and lived out batteries, three times the wonder as the same time was met on each morning. The death and kidney haemorrhaging of the Disney BUZZ batteries should have been hint enough not to lick the ends.
Soon Van - Thursday, 6 March 2003 - 13:03
Hoarding is a finely crafted obsession. Choosing what to discard and what to store away in the extra bedroom—which ends up as the new storeroom—takes skill. Magazines are probably the best static shots of the time. They age extremely well if kept in the proper conditions and if not of the tabloid variety, educational.
Spotted on a show, Your Life on the Lawn, an impressive stack of National Geographics dating back to 1970 something. Excellent condition. Great condition. Yet at the slightest suggestion from one of the "team", the owner decides to pulp all except for one containing a story on Koko. And then they have a lunkhead who manages to sell the rest of the contents of the house for anything under one digit. Quick and fast. Memories pulped in seconds and cash of the jingle jangle sort take over the space left from the folded conversions.
Soon Van - Thursday, 6 March 2003 - 11:44
Missed a call in the morning of yesterday. It was a short and frantic message. Or so it might have been if an ear was there to listen in. They called it short and they made it fast. But the timing of it all was off by at least an hour. They expect protestors to front up in a sped up time of thirty minutes or at the drop of someone's hat. They made the call and rallied themselves out in the lobby or foyer of the Linfield office of the Education Minister, "Dr" Brendan Nelson. A past president of NUS was there, front and centre. Looking like the manics they needed to be. It was intense but not covered much elsewhere. Silence.
Soon Van - Saturday, 1 March 2003 - 12:50
Morning. Daylight. People about and looking hot to sweat it up without the heat of the irradiated tar/cement. Watched unknowingly as the train passed the interchange station for a line that moved past a racing ground for most types of horses. No body else was in the air but the thick and heavy smog of exhaust. The heat didn't pose much of a concern to worry itself into a factor. That was until a few buildings away from the intended mark. When the mechanism used to hide the buttons on a collared shirt was put into action, things really started to heat up. Literally and the other one. Metaphorically?
In any event, the cold walls gave not enough comfort in the igloo variety. Even though the interior of an igloo might actually be pretty warm and cosy. But the sweat started at the door and kept on dripping and dripping and dripping. They returned looks of concern and questions of the possibilities to come. They might have thought the constant and heavy sweat was due to the situation.
How wrong they were.
But as soon as the choker came off and the noose was put away, the air became a little more humid, the eyes a little less sore. The sunscreen developed into a hard and thick coating on the back of the collar. Hard to get out. Hard to understand. But at least it isn't of an overpowering fragrance.
Figuratively.
Soon Van - Saturday, 1 March 2003 - 10:50
