  ah, how nice of some people. jeremy's friend charmaine has the distinction of being only the second person to email me within, i believe, the last five days. and N can just, um, dig a hole and swallow all the soil he's dug up or something. david has very, very sublime stories but he does not want me to share them because he is shy.
but it is a pity because they are very good. almost, in fact, as good as cy. she sucks at all those dungeons and monsters stuff though. but she can whip up a mean story on retribution, tradition, religion and sex and all that, which happens to be catherine lim's backyard, i believe. heather, all mighty with regards to the bizarre, is a urlLink better writer than a poet . but maybe some of these weren't meant to be poems at all.
that aside, occasionally brilliant writing. exactly like a radiohead record, actually: it always ends rather great. maybe except their straight-out-rock albums. the one on thom, in fact, reminds me of radiohead's "backdrifts", a kind of nice song about hopelessness, crumbling shortbread and gargling tea. (all british songs are tributes to tea. ) to this end, i actually have my own stories, but i'm waiting for kelly to design the template for me first.
although she makes me check her own essays for grammatical errors and expects, um, very lenient critiques, which i can dispense i suppose. i like gastr del sol's camoufleur (a brilliant album i got from a great pal) very much. most of the tracks are kind of aimless but effortless and beautiful for four minutes, but a one point five minute climax that makes it all the worthwhile.
it's like a beautiful moment where you're on the verge on sinking into a most wonderful little dream, you're floating... and by the time music starts to fade out you have lost all mortal contact for the next few hours. i love it. with grape juice and shortbread fingers and a lot of imagination. sorry, i am being digressive again. but if you ever get your hands on it, maybe you ought to give it a listen. just skip the rock track. 
