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25th May 2000.  12:38 – Thursday. 

I’ve got stuff to talk about today. But first, a small add on to my previous chat. Camp men, high voices right? (Relatively.) Butch women – Low voices? Why does nobody make a stereotype out of that? Why are gay women so under represented in culture? And who cares after all, lust isn’t about gender. 

Anyway, I’ve remembered – Only Albums! Only buy albums. It’s better for you. 

Damn, I’ve got to go get my hair photographed today. As per the rest of this week. I look like Medusa’s kid sister. Before the snakes grew. Have I said that before? I don’t do it often, but it’s relaxing to repeat the same thing to different people. It’s stranger however when you don’t remember saying something the first time then do it exactly the same way a second time, of your own accord. 

Yeah, things happened last night. Got in at seven, cos I went off to Shrewsbury with Mike. Don’t know why, just to chat I guess. Can’t be fun driving for 6 hours on your own. Nohow, Got in, Graham was in some sort of stew. Went up stairs and had a lot of e-mail. I mean real e-mail, written personally for me by other real people. Replyable e-mail, not lists or bots sending stuff to you. Had an e-mail from gamasutra, thought it was a bot, but no, it’s from one Micah, asking me, ME, about collection games and the future of mobiles, all from a thing I posted on the question of the week at gamasutra. (Gamasutra is great I might add. A real relevation to a gamer.) That freaked me out. No doubt I’ll fuck it up. I usually fuck up all forms of communication. I don’t think people get it though. Communication is important. It’s a Big Thing. Twas nice though, to be thought useful, for a change. 

Socrates. Everyone has the ability to question their daily existence. Why am I here, what constitutes a good life? What’s in my future. (Note, List- What I want to do before I die.) (Note – Does everybody imbue the words die and death with more polite tabooness than cunt and say wank?)   In order then, Why Am I here? Mum and dad. Big bang, evolution etc.  – No god, no meaning of life. Still 42 is a good one. None. Makes my life somewhat floaty, directionless, pointless.   A good life? In the absence of the instinct to help others, it would have to be a happy life. What’s a happy life? A happy one. It isn’t hard to be happy. I should know. I ain’t got a lot to be happy about, but I am. All you need is a shell of hubris/self delusion and then nested inside a little aura of happiness emanating from your brain.  I used to be happier than I am now. I’m more neutral now. But I’m still here, I’m still alive and I’m still happy.     

Get Neil Gaiman to write a text adventure. Actually he does that anyway. Hmm. Or Geoff Ryman. 

I hate stories of extreme horror/pain/suffering/abuse happening to people, or extreme poverty etc, that continues forever. Yeah it’s worst than I could possible imagine, (But the article makes a good portion of it clear in some detail) And it’s worst than the entire sum of badness happened to me, and I’m supposed to care about that? How can I go on with my life with the thought of the majority of the world’s population living like shit? It is a survival mechanism to block it out? Truth is, I want to. I want to live my life. I want to take advantage of the privileges I’ve been given in this country, and I want to fully use the potential of my brain. I don’t want to have to devote my life to helping out a few people at the other end of the earth. I might do it later, when I’m older. But not now, and not soon. It’s like having kids, career first, aid work later. It’s a Good Thing. I’ll do it. Lets make that list!. 

Also, I wrapped up and sent off a picture out of dazed and confused and david bowie grinning like a maniac. I’m sure she’ll love it. 

I want Ramadan, then I’ll scan it in and make a huge poster out of it. 
 

Author information goes here. < That's Me! Or Meg if you want my full name. 
Copyright © 1999 by [weirdscience]. Most rights reserved.
Revised: 27 May 2000 21:14:14 +0100 .