Steven Seagal speaks!

"I am hoping that I can be known as a great writer and actor some day, rather than a sex symbol."

Its all fun and games...

You know it, I am back watching Robin of Sherwood. At present there is ye medieval dancing to a lovely folk band. I always appreciated the mass choreography of old fashioned dancing. In this case they have upped the ante: a room full of people dancing holding taper candles. I fear it is only a matter of time before Maid Marion's bouffant suffers. Insert flaming redhead joke here.

Oooh, a fight scene. I know it is not an important fight scene though, it does not have the dynamic battle music reserved for those. This is more of a plot building, casual, moments of hilarity piece of romping music. It is designed to show the youthful exuberance of Robin, leaping over fires, slicing up candles, besting his opponent in the most humiliating way possible. So I don't mind typing, I know Robin will triumph in the end.

The neckbearded man was begging for it anyway, if you ask me. Bloody ferals, you just can't trust anyone who worships Thor.

I smell conspiracy

Ahh, there's nothing like a good conspiracy to enliven my evening. Today I have been looking at the Bohemian Grove. This is an exquisite, all male (but really, what cool secret societies admit women these days?) group that meets each year in July, to commune with nature in a redwood forest. They revel in the freedom to piss on trees, drink, perform bizarre rituals and pay homage to significant people, especially from the 80s. I expect they talk business as well, although with the action packed bacchinalian revels, it would be a wonder that they find the time.

Lots of people feel very strongly about these goings on, the creepy owl altar, the whisper of Satanism. Some feel so strongly that they hold cleansing ceremonies concurrently with the July grove event.
Since I will never be invited to a Bohemian Grove party, I think the best thing I can do would be star in a prayer vigil/ exorcism/ cleansing ceremony inspired by it. I will start off small, perhaps a select group of individuals at Stonehenge Aotearoa. From there I fully expect to gain great kudos and mana, and followers in sufficient number to create a rival celebration that will effectively knock Bohemian Grove off the calendar. Maybe I'll even get some Jesus-is-saviour.com coverage of my own.
One idea I have had is to start that cult worshiping Christopher Lambert? That would be so much cooler than trying to get Jedi listed as a religion on the census form. Who will join me in the Church of Lambertology?

If your forehead is not tall like the mighty oak you aren't allowed to breed. Or perhaps I will start up a eugenics programme, and only allow those with low foreheads to breed only with people blessed with exceptional acreage.



Dylan McKay can be pope, unless he is put to stud.

Ick.

Harry Potter and the ultimate overexposure

Just to prove I don't live in a vacuum, I will make reference to the current big news. Will anyone read blogs? Does anyone actually even read this blog? (you are none of you commenting much, you sylvan creatures).
Maybe in a couple of days I will post spoilers about the Harry Potter book, but I would have to read it, and the penultimate one in order to do so, unless of course I made it all up. And frankly, I am a bit sick of the whole thing. I hope Harry does get killed off, J.K. Rowling does not write any similar novels, and Stephen King is not allowed anywhere near the Harry Potter character. Actually, I hope someone chops Stephen King's hands off, and cuts out his tongue. This would make it impossible for him to write, but possible to read bad reviews and hear negative assessments of his work. Every day he will suffer as little children scream in horror when they see him in all his ugliness. Hang on, they probably do already.
Anyway, I don't know if I have the intestinal fortitude to read the last two Potter books, particularly when I have found a Biggles novel I have not yet read. It is called Biggles in Australia, and has a picture of an aborigne on the front. I wonder if Biggles is hunting him?

Come home to a roaring fire

Its been a day of trials and tribulations. From the hilarity of realising catalogue search terminals were blocking access to nursury rhyme cds (I suspect they filter out the profane "Hickory Dickory Dock" songs; not to mention "Hey Diddle Diddle") to the drama of lift doors closing too quickly. The moment that will most stick with me, however, is a woman calling us all primitive because one has to show proof of address to get a library card.
Thats the thing that really gets me. These people go overseas, get back and then feel all superior and sophistimicated because they chavved it up in ye olde Englande. Any chance, and there they are, trying to wedge the fact they were overseas into conversation. Whats this phone number? Oh, I gave you my INTERNATIONAL calling details, in case the library wants to phone about overdue messages from its love nest in Borneo.
In general, the people who are most brazen about their international travel are the ones who have been to the most tedious of places, proliferating like fungi in the grottos and kiwi ghettos of London. They probably show interminable slide shows of their castle visiting, night clubbing, and carry fond memories of Andrew Lloyd Weber musicals with them to this day. Harrods would have been a must see, and you better believe they saw the changing of the guard.
Travel is wasted on these people, they should have given the ticket to me.
At last I would become the International Superbitch I am destined to be.

Lynne Truss would be most upset

I just saw an ad for the new Timbaland album. Pedants of the world will unite in revulsion at the title "The Way I Are." But its OK, I won't need to worry about advertising shortly, I have hooked up the Playstation 2 so I suspect I will be in the throes of RPG frenzy before long. I could also watch DVDs, but I have seen enough movies to last me for the next few months. Besides, it will take a stalwart action film to top Hot Fuzz. That film made me want to move to England so I too can say "yarp". That dialect could smooth out my New Zild in no time.

Trivia

I was reading some IMDB trivia, and apparently Christopher Lambert dated Stephanie of Monaco. Is there anyone that woman will not date?

I wonder if he killed her music career?