Sunday, August 07, 2005

This is a retrospective I have retrospected from a few years ago. The entries have been dated but not changed except to neaten them up a bit. I'm putting it here now because it made me laugh.

Since the World Trade Center disaster, I've been absolutely bereft of anything to write. I haven't posted a newsletter, or made (or even visited) the MSN communities I belong to.

It's coming up to what would have been my beloved little brother's 21st birthday and I'm getting really depressed about it. (That puts this entry at some time just after September 2001 but before October 11th)

Words are powerful little buggers. They can be delivered visually or aurally, but they have amazing power. They can make you angry, they can bore you to death, they can make you laugh or cry, they can make you think and they can inflame passions of every variety.

Finding the right words is a marvellous skill. What impresses me most about words is that so much can be said with one or two carefully chosen words.

"Oh really?" I hear you ask.
"Listen to yourself." I like to reply.

Today is November 22, 2001. It has been a month since I wrote that bit up there and I'm still depressed about Christopher. I loved him so much and although it has been a year and 10 months since he died, I still miss him.

I discovered that in, someone has made a reference to me and the old "Chatratspad" on Austnet. (The place where it all got going...) That's where I clicked on a link and ripped a counter from Site Fights to put on my page 1.

Now I can tell how many people are ignoring my website. (Almost the entire population of planet earth!) So why do I continue to come here and do things on the site? Because it's an almost permanent record, my contribution to e-history, that proves I was here and to some extent what I was like. (I appear, indeed, to have mellowed a tad.)

This is getting a little bit maudlin, so I'll crawl back under my stone until next time.
In the meantime, get a hold of my other bit of e-blattery, The Swamp.

The Swamp - my newsletter

Lots of love for November 22, The Rat.

Well, now it's January 6th, 2002. What's changed?
Osama bin Bastard's address has changed, that's for sure.

I've seen quite a few pictures intended to be funny with him in them, but, and I make no apologies here, I don't find them funny. Which is odd, because I find most things funny. I guess it's because I have so much revulsion for him.

Last week I had an email conversation with my newest best friend, Chris Locke - Rageboy.
Today I discovered his "Favorite People" list on's Listmania bit, and I'm on it!! Tell me that didn't make me go all soft and sentimental!!

Am I happy yet?

Well, it's coming up to the 2nd anniversary of my little brother's death - January 31st.
How the hell should I feel? I'm doing my bestest, really I am!

Poor ol' Duckface. Last week, my old boss and I were going to see Rat Race, and George sent Duckface an SMS message or two. Actually, they were both forwards from my phone. Poor Matt! (Yes, that's the same Matt whose cd cover I put in here the other day.)

I keep telling everyone that I'm a bastard, but no-one actually believes me!

Go see Rat Race! It's done by the immortal Zucker brothers - you know, Flying High, Top Secret, Ruthless People - very funny guys. Rat Race is no exception. It's a bad fillum, go see it.

That's it for me from today. I couldn't be bothered doing any more journal for now.
But as long as you're here, use the email jiggy boo, it really does work and I really do respond to it.

Lot's of love and big girly kisses on your bottoms for 6/1/2002,
The Rat.

January 17th... It's Friday. YAY!
What am I still doing at home? I should have been at work about an hour ago.

Well, I was chatting merrily away in Philosophy & Absurdity, starting at the bottom of the chatter's pile again, and I remembered there was something I really wanted to do.

I really wanted to upload some of my music files to this site...

Well I started and it was taking for ever - you know how it is - and I clicked a button somewhere to see if even one of the files had finished uploading, and guess what! I killed the upload thing.
All that air-time wasted. I feel like Michael Jordan when some prick has gone and pinched the hoop.

Oh well, shite happens.
Now I spose I better get to work.

Lot's of love etc...
The Rat.

Tuesday, February 26th 2002. I'm sitting in an internet cafe in the city. Why am I doing this? The reason is simple - if absolutely stupid. My computer at home lives in my older brother's bedroom. I also have my very own modem and my very own ISP account. But because the machine is in his room, he won't let me in there to use the puter. HE uses my puter, his modem and his ISP account, but only when I'm either not home, or he is pretending to be in bed. Why don't I put the puter in another room? I hear you ask. Because there is simply nowhere else to put it and the 2nd phone line socket is in his room. The room used to be mine, but I moved out of the house for four days and he moved in. You can just tell how much we care about each other... Pathetic is the word I use most often to describe him. Just the other day, I bought a bottle of milk. I opened it, used what I wanted and put the bottle back in the fridge. Then James bought a bottle of milk, opened it, used some and put that bottle back in the fridge. Just so he wouldn't be using my milk - like I care if he does, shit, it's only milk. So, when he's home and I want to get on the world wide timetrap, I have to go out and pay per hour at an internet cafe. Just to give you even more of an idea how pathetic he is, when the room was actually mine, I didn't care how much he went in there to use the puter or look at titty pics on the e-bog. (I think he doesn't know any other titty pic site besides Yahoo groups...) Now the shoe's on the other foot, and I can't even use my own goddam puter. If you think this is fucked and to what degree it is fucked, use the form mail jiggy boo on page 1 or page 4 and I'll put all the responses up on a very special page. Who can be the most vitriolic in their appreciation of how pathetic an individual my older brother James is? Lots of love for Tuesday, The Rat.

Well today was Monday March 18, 2002. I worked my arse off today after bugger all sleep last night.

It's almost midnight, so what am I doing up at this hour, my eyes stinging from lack of sleep? You may remember from my last journal entry that my puter was in a Danger Zone. Well because of rear-guard action by the Prince of Puerility and Patheticness, I went in there and took the damn thing out and set it up in the kitchen. Now I type loudly while he tries to watch tv and I LOVE IT!!!

I can chat to my heart's content now - and I do - and people are actually starting to visit this site which makes my juices wobble convulsively through my tubes and parts...

Which reminds me, I must change my irc ident so it puts this site up, then you can all talk about it with your e-friends... won't that be fun!

I'm going to bed now, it's 7 past midnight on Tuesday morning... *YAWN*

Saturday, March 30, 2002. I'm still stiff and sore from work - does it ever end? Am I ever going to do the work I should be doing and start getting paid what I'm worth? Maybe.

The Dark Prince of Puerility and Patheticness strikes again.

The puter, now removed from his room and in the kitchen has been superceded by a whiz bang laptop which plays dvd's in his room or on the telly.

To prevent unauthorised access, said laptop gets its wires unplugged from the telly and packed away in the Dark Prince's room at the conclusion of each use.

Like I care? I have what I want in the kitchen. It also didn't cost me nearly a year's salary and I do more with it than store pathetic reminders and titty pics from yahoo.

Oh, and my job isn't about to disappear or be downgraded like his is.

But I really do need a bigger machine, mine crashes if I forget to clear the crap out of my hard drive. No matter... I can double everything with just a few hundred dollars - not a few thousand for something which I won't ever get full value out of!

I must confess, I do enjoy being superior to the Prince.

Today is Saturday, April 27th.
I've just read Terry Mertens's e-zine called "All You Need to Know".
I'd give you the link, but the archve is not readable unless you're a subscriber.
(The link is now over there on the right and you should click on it.)

However, if you email Terry at and beg for inclusion to the list, I'm sure he'll let you subscribe and then you can have a good laugh like I just did.

I hate having to watch what I say in case there are people reading who somehow feel that they are in some weird position to expect that I behave a certain way and say certain things.

Well fuck it. I'm pissed off. First on the grizzle list is my moderately bizaare boss. The undisputed world champion of double handling, and maker of decisions that border on the spectacular for their degree of shortsightedness and managerial ineptitude.

I won't bore you with details, but I just gotta get this offa ma chest..

Get and stay the hell out of the warehouse and do something administrative in your flamin office for a change. You can't even get the paperwork right, what with double orders, orders that aren't due until May and June mixed in with the orders which should have been out last month.

But now, as I fall slowly to sleep at this keyboard, I am overwhelmed yet again with the loss of my beautiful little brother, Christopher. It has been more than 2 years since he died, but the wounds in my heart are as fresh today as they were on January 31st, 2000.

Saturday May 9, 2002. It's 3.00pm and, as usual, I'm falling asleep at the keyboard.

The reason for it this time, is that I only got about 45 minutes sleep last night. There is only one word for why this is happening: Legacy.

I'm here doing this at all because I think I yet again offended someone I'm not in a hurry to offend, but the trouble is, that just by being myself, people just sometimes get offended.

They don't see the fact that I'm just me being me and saying and doing all the things I feel like doing when I feel like doing them without waiting for or even expecting permission from the people around me to say and do what I like.

Every now and then, it feels like I have to tip-toe through the bloody tulips and mind my p's and q's or whatever else.

The hatemail I got after my edition of The Swamp - titled "Revenge is a dish..." set me off like a Palestinian tourist at a Jerusalem bus stop. (Ooooh that's bad!)

Sometimes I don't mind getting abusive emails. Actually, straight up abuse I can cop quite sweetly. It's the "You offended me." type emails or messages that get me depressed faster than a footprint in dog poo.

So, a rule of thumb: If I offended you in some way, click on the X in the top right hand corner and quietly fuck off. I don't want to know.

If you feel like hurling abuse at me, use the email jiggy boo on page 4.

That's what it's there for, but be prepared to see your contributions in "My emails" with a smart arse remark from me, coz that's what I do, boys and girls. (Or hasn't anyone figured that out yet?)

Anyway, it's time to get on with something a bit more serious, so see ya next time. (or not.)

Well, it's next time.. Monday, May 20th 2002.

I'm bored again. (That's not why I'm doing this, it's just that I couldn't be bothered getting into all the chatrooms I usually go into because, chances are, if I'm bored, everyone else will be too boring for me to justify the time it takes to get in there.)

More news on the job front: We're all taking two weeks off from July 1. What's the bet I don't get holiday pay. So, what the fuck am I supposed to live on for 3 weeks???

My wonderful brother lurks like a bastard in the next room. I'm sorta thinking I'll surf around for something tittilating, but not while he's there. The reasons are too numerous to bother with, and besides, I'm bored.

The Swamp turned 1 year old on Saturday! To commemorate, I posted a collection of e-mails I got from subscribers. A battle of the sexes type thingy, but I felt these were good enough to re-post. Rare indeed.

Most battle of the sexes type thingies just piss me off. I find them akin to racism and that's a no-no if you're standing next to me. I mean really. Not much makes my blood boil, but racism and stupidity will do it in .3 of a nanosecond.

Short fuse, huh.

I make no apologies for it, though. How much hatred and violence and suffering is the result of racism whether that be racial, ethnic or religious intolerance. Why can't people just agree to disagree. Their point of view is just as valid and interesting as your point of view - or mine for that matter.

I love having philosophical discussions on the merits of customs and religions. Concerning religious discussion, it is a real exercise for me not to lose my cool and get nasty, but if I can't make people question their own beliefs with reason and compassion, I'm never going to do it abusing them.

Why do I want to make them question their beliefs?

Because I believe in the authority of one. Not the authority of an organisation - a concept. When people are subordinate to a belief, they no longer have autonomy. Autonomy is important to me.
Anyway, enough of this clap-trap. I'm going to bed.

So, you be the judge. Have I mellowed or do I just pick my moments with a little more discretion?


Morgue said...

Mellow. You're still an ass, but now there's so much hair on's starting to feel comfy.


Rat said...

There's hardly any at all actually. It's all been worn off from excessing sitting at computers for the last 6 years.

But you're right about it being comfy.

Anonymous said...

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Rat said...

Learning and education are two entirely different things. I have strong opinions on both and you're not winning brownie points spamming online university degrees.

Eff said...

Surely he deserves some kind of badge?

So much nostalgia. I wish I had saved more of the past.

Sometimes I have to ask myself how much right I have to claim anything that is not documented.

Did you know it was me that started the "I like cheese but no all cheese" fad? But, hell, I cannot prove it, and I suppose I should not even claim it is my line. It was on a different account I only used on the message board for a brief time. And that board got killed like too many others.

Well, you know I do not like to be offensive. I am not sure how much more mealy mouthed than me a person can get. Believe it or not, despite a small reputation of being very fair and mature, I can be sarcastic and rude, and am not always sensitive. I get annoyed, sometimes, when people do not get my sarcasm. Whenever you have to explain a joke you run not only into the problem of killing it and having people still not understand it, but also of realizing it was a lousy bit of humor. The major problem I have noticed is many do not know what the frame of reference is. Try telling a joke that mentions a character from a commercial from 1992 in a place where the average age happens to be, at least at the time, 14. Even when they are older the risk is there. You start to notice that you either have a better memory or watched completely different garbage than the next guy.