Jet Set Radio Future
I always feel that that phrase is cool enough to somehow warrant referring to something apart from the Sega XBox Game (it was kinda cool in its own right, but the name "Jet Set Radio Future" was by far the best thing that it had going for it). But Wikipedia reveals no disambiguation page, no chic point of origin, no hipster movie quoting it, so I guess I'll just have to create my own special tribute to the coolness by titling this blog post with it - totally irrelevantly I might add, as you will no doubt soon discover.
So it's been a while since I wrote anything. To be fair, the 6-odd weeks since the last post have been quite packed with stuff. One might go so far as to say that a number of things occurred, and, as the usual story with blogging, you're generally too busy out doing these things to spend the time coming back and writing with them. Then, when you get around to maybe thinking about doing so - like now - those things are already far enough in the past, and you figure nobody really wants to hear about them anymore. It's a common enough problem and I have written approximately 96 percent of my total lifetime blog posts to date about it.
So I'm going to consciously ignore it.
Here's a sort of observational diary I scribbled as something to do - something to blog later, if I'm honest about it - when I bussed the 6 plus hours from Wellington to New Plymouth and then back in late November on holiday last year. A jolly good holiday it was too, full of taking it easy and getting the crap kicked out of me my two small children (who also caused my pants to explode. That's another story, mind). I never did of course, except now I am. So there. It was probably more interesting closer to the time I travelled, and certainly more relevant, so if you clicked on the LJ cut out of curiosity and are starting to regret your decision, now is probably the time to click the back button.
Driving to New Plymouth
4:45pm: And so we're off. Newly professional inner editor in me spots a stylistic mistake on the first page of the Star Wars novel I bought in an attempt to fill in the estimated 6 1/2 hours travel time. An inauspicious beginning.
5pm: Tawa. An inauspicious continuing. We drive past a rubber band factory. We can tell it is a rubber band factory because it says "Thompson's Rubber Bands, Ltd." on it. Somehow this seems to encapsulate Tawa perfectly.
5:15pm: The Hutt Valley really is a ridiculous thing. The series of settlements keeps going on forever, as if Wellington was a large wad of chewing gum that someone is pulling on, stringing the chain of habitation out to ridiculous lengths. I'm fairly sure that the development plan must be to eventually have Upper Hutt blend seamlessly into Manukau.
5:24pm: As we crawl down the motorway, I can only thank God that I was wise enough to secure a supply of small cheeses before our departure.
5:27pm: The SEEEEEAAAA!
5:42pm Paraparaumu seems to consist entirely of shops. Do people live there? They must, underground perhaps, presided over that patron saint of commerce the Virgin Mary (whose statuesque Rio De Janeiro-wannabe presence on a hill overlooking the place I had entirely failed to notice somehow on numerous previous drivethroughs). Meanwhile, Elizabeth Taylor Graphics boldly advertises on a giant sign that they make "Posters and Signs and Shit". I am not making this up.
5:46pm: Out bus briefly bursts up to the dizzying speed of 40km an hour and to celebrate Karen and I consume a meat stick. Though the meat stick is of a higher quality than those typically consumed by my TBALC brother I still feel he would approve. We risk much by attacking our supplies this early into the voyage but still have our supply of small cheeses to fall back on.
5:52pm: Why, can I? Spot several locals swimming in the river and suddenly realise with horror that I have forgotten to check my shoes for didymo. Of course, I haven't really been near any didymo-afflicted South Island rivers in them, but that's probably just how didymo wants me to think. Hope to avoid going down in history with Typhoid Mary as "Didymo Ben".
6:08pm: Ah, police anti-speeding awareness ads, completely wasted on the habitual passenger. "How fast are you going?" Why, my dear (photograph of an) officer, I have absolutely no idea.
6:11pm: Bus seat across the aisle from Karen falls into its component pieces, apropos of nothing. Somewhat disconcerting. Bus is fairly ancient, yet probably younger than our driver, who seems to produce racking wet coughs quite frequently. Hmmmmm.
6:14pm: "Kuku Beach" coming up. Obviously just like Waikuku Beach, but without the water. Who'd go there?
6:22pm: A sign outside the station informs us that the Levin Fire Brigade has attended 154 fires this year. Crikey! Levin - town of arsonists? Or maybe just one very industrious one.
7pm: There is some kind of truly occult sickness about Palmerston North. I have recounted the horror of the "Illuzzions" motel before, but on the way through this time I also spot "Lotz of Potz", "Itza Deal", and - just up the road from "Illuzzions" - the "Shadzz" motel. The what? I mean...what? Bus cannot drive away fast enough.
7:36pm: You have to hand it to the people of Bulls - they never met a "bull" pun they didn't like. In fact, they never met a chance to tenuously insert the word "bull" into a sentence that they didn't marry and have four children with.
8pm: A prisoner exchange of buses. We swap our ancient bus driver for a slightly less ancient one. Ancient driver informs us in rather melancholy tones before departing that the bus company is closing down in a couple of weeks. I guess that means they won't have to replace the fallen apart seat.
8:35pm: A dinner stop in Wanganui. Our choices are exotic Wanganui McDonald's or exotic Wanganui BK. We opt for the former. Back on the bus which takes off again, turning a couple of corners. Karen, engrossed in book, looks up and asks if I know what town we are in now. Advise her it is still Wanganui. She is suitably embarrassed.
9pm onwards: The last run to New Plymouth. Scenery not much to look at, what with the darkness and all.
Wellington bound, December 1st.
2:05pm Scrape munchkins off legs, board bus. Driver ancient. Seems to be a theme. Eyes me with high suspicion over his roll-your-owns.
2:26pm: Inglewood. Drakes Furnishers are directly next door to Martin's Fashions, but have somehow failed to learn any grammar lessons.
2:29pm: Do you think the people of Taranaki have noticed this whacking great mountain they have? It's always getting in the road of my view of numerous flat dairy farms. Can't help but notice that flying over this earlier in the year was a tad faster.
2:33pm: Sign on road leading away from New Plymouth reads "National Motorcycle Expo, Easter Weekend 2008, New Plymouth". Er, stop, turn around, I need to go back to New Plymouth and, um, stay until next Easter? Odd.
2:38pm: Midhirst. Notable for giant, ugly building, and strange man sitting in bushes. Are the two connected? Possibly.
2:42pm: The Taranaki Abatoir has a number of sheep grazing happily directly next to it. Livestock: ignorant.
2:45pm: Stratford, the Ashburton of the North. My but there were some ugly buildings built in the 60s and 70s. I think high on the priority list of tasks after the invention of time travel is to travel to this period and warn architects. "No, I know you think that looks good, but you're not going to wanna see it in 40 years! Trust me!" Those that will not be convinced will have to be eliminated, of course. The "Otago Chambers" of Stratford is not ugly, but does seem to be lost.
2:50pm: We pass the "Cheal A production facility", clearly the first of a series of such facilities producing high-grade Cheal at the rate of several, er, units of Cheal, uh, let's go with annually.
2:56pm: Eltham. The North Island has a ludicrous surplus of small towns.
3:04pm: Consumption of a 600ml bottle of Coke immediately prior to departure starting to look (feel) like a poor move, tactically speaking.
3:13pm: Hawera is possibly the only town in the world to be composed entirely of farm supply stores.
3:47pm: The SEEEEEAAA!
3:51pm: I have observed the silly numbers of golf courses in the North Island on previous visits - this time round I am noticing crazy numbers of horse racing tracks, the pavilions of which typically seem to be the biggest and most well-appointed looking buildings for miles around them. Odd.
3:56pm: Weirdest roadside sign yet - fire danger style semi circle with red, orange, yellow sections and adjustable arrow. Legend above this however does not read "Fire Danger" but instead "Facial Eczema Monitoring". I am not making this up.
4:04pm: Spraypainted label on otherwise unremarkable pile of gravel on the side of the road identifies it as pile of gravel "FHSC5". The C likely stands for "Cheal" in these parts of course, but the rest is cryptic.
4:13pm: Remember I am heading to a 30th birthday party. Am thus reminded I am turning 30 myself in 10 days. Fight down minor panic attack.
4:14pm: From the Stupidly Obvious School of Naming Stuff comes "Bushy Park".
4:23pm: Stupidly Obvious School of Naming Stuff, Part Two: "Land Meat New Zealand Ltd." Oh, "Land Meat"? As opposed to "Sea Meat" and "Air Meat"? I wonder if these exist as the fishing and poultry arms of the company respectively.
4:27pm: Ahh, Wanganui. It seems like it was only Monday that I supped at your McDonald's. Wanganui College motto "All Is Overcome By Working" something of a cause for concern.
5:10pm: I had hoped to nap through Palmerston North and its utter disregard for common English spelling, but I am rudely awakened by another driver exchange. I guess roll-up man wants to make sure he is back in New Plymouth in time for the motorbike show next Easter.
5:40pm: It's a stonking great wind farm they've got themselves here in Manawatu. Note to self: never parachute into it. Additional note to world at large: the title "Terminal Velocity" should surely have produced a better film.
5:51pm: I'm sure they must also exist elsewhere, but I can't recall seeing a Defence Force Recruitment Office anywhere apart from in Palmerston North. It would only make sense I suppose that many local young people would be driven into the French Foreign Legion by the spelling.
6:18pm: Palmerston North serves up possibly the worst kebab ever. Poor use of my distinctly meagre remaining funds. My hate/hate relationship with this 'burg continues.
7:08pm: What goes on at the Horowhenua Masonic Lodge, I wonder? It certainly looks mysterious. One can only imagine the nature of the hideous experiments conducted at the "Masonic Medical Centre". Shudder. Elsewhere in Levin, the record shows no more fires since Monday, and I have decided that it must be a legal requirement for cinemas with more than one theatre in their building to include that number in their name, as if the public should be fully appraised of how many theatres are about at any given time, possibly for movie emergencies.
7:15am: It seems like only yesterday that it was 2 o'clock this afternoon.
8:45pm: Wellington, obviously wishing to distance itself from the town planning nightmare that is the Hutt Valley, has cleverly arranged for there to be a corner you come around and go BAM into Wellington with. They even put their "Wellington" sign there. None of your straggly old Hutt Valley here, mate, this here's the county line. I really full that for full effect however they should hire a full orchestra to sit permanently in that particular spot and play a dramatic wwaaaAAAHHHHH!!! for the benefit each passing car.
Adam's 30th was duly headed to and was, as Facebook has revealed, quite an evening.
In other news, Lost starts up again in the States tomorrow and I am excited. Most people I know have given it away by now but I am definitely still a highly interested fan. The first 4 episodes in the new series apparently have very good advanced reviews, so I am taking that as a good sign. I went to check out ABC.com to see what was up and came across their official (and surprisingly flippant) "Lost so far in 8 minutes and 15 seconds" summary video. The first two seasons take up 4 minutes to explain, and the most recent season another 4 minutes. As a summary it's interesting in that 8 minutes 15 seconds is indeed enough time to tell you all the most important facts from 3 entire seasons of television, while, at the same time utterly not telling you even the tiniest fraction of what you need to know about what is going on. I guess this is Lost summed up. Well, it is, it's a recap of Lost. But you know what I mean. Or you don't. Oh to hell with it, the other 3 people still watching it will know. I suppose what I'm getting at is that it's a show of details; endless endless intriguing details. I guess either you go in for that or not.
In other other news, books are good. In the last month or so I have churned through Altered Carbon (very cool, highly violent, look forward to the film), Pillars of the Earth (still good, now I can go find the new sequel), Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (OK, but a bit disappointingly predictable), League of Extraordinary Gentlemen: The Black Dossier (weird but still followable, a bit gimmicky but still cool, curiosity inspiring but obscure, the least good of the three volumes to date for me - but still good. Going to have to go and eventually read a whole bunch of other stuff because of it. Also starting to think Alan Moore is turning into a dirty old man) and am now about 150 pages into the Gormenghast trilogy (very slow moving but VERY atmospheric, highly intriguing to date. Lost in book form?). My first Tom Holt and Neil Gaiman reading experiences await my attentions after I plough through the next 800 odd pages of Gormenghast (and then probably look up , download and view the 4 part mini series the BBC made of it, because I have to see who they cast and what they did with the visuals) Quite a timesucker but then I think being able to have "what are you reading at the moment?" asked of me and readily answered is a good thing.
In other other other news, time to post this hodge-podge and go to bed, I suspect.
So it's been a while since I wrote anything. To be fair, the 6-odd weeks since the last post have been quite packed with stuff. One might go so far as to say that a number of things occurred, and, as the usual story with blogging, you're generally too busy out doing these things to spend the time coming back and writing with them. Then, when you get around to maybe thinking about doing so - like now - those things are already far enough in the past, and you figure nobody really wants to hear about them anymore. It's a common enough problem and I have written approximately 96 percent of my total lifetime blog posts to date about it.
So I'm going to consciously ignore it.
Here's a sort of observational diary I scribbled as something to do - something to blog later, if I'm honest about it - when I bussed the 6 plus hours from Wellington to New Plymouth and then back in late November on holiday last year. A jolly good holiday it was too, full of taking it easy and getting the crap kicked out of me my two small children (who also caused my pants to explode. That's another story, mind). I never did of course, except now I am. So there. It was probably more interesting closer to the time I travelled, and certainly more relevant, so if you clicked on the LJ cut out of curiosity and are starting to regret your decision, now is probably the time to click the back button.
Driving to New Plymouth
4:45pm: And so we're off. Newly professional inner editor in me spots a stylistic mistake on the first page of the Star Wars novel I bought in an attempt to fill in the estimated 6 1/2 hours travel time. An inauspicious beginning.
5pm: Tawa. An inauspicious continuing. We drive past a rubber band factory. We can tell it is a rubber band factory because it says "Thompson's Rubber Bands, Ltd." on it. Somehow this seems to encapsulate Tawa perfectly.
5:15pm: The Hutt Valley really is a ridiculous thing. The series of settlements keeps going on forever, as if Wellington was a large wad of chewing gum that someone is pulling on, stringing the chain of habitation out to ridiculous lengths. I'm fairly sure that the development plan must be to eventually have Upper Hutt blend seamlessly into Manukau.
5:24pm: As we crawl down the motorway, I can only thank God that I was wise enough to secure a supply of small cheeses before our departure.
5:27pm: The SEEEEEAAAA!
5:42pm Paraparaumu seems to consist entirely of shops. Do people live there? They must, underground perhaps, presided over that patron saint of commerce the Virgin Mary (whose statuesque Rio De Janeiro-wannabe presence on a hill overlooking the place I had entirely failed to notice somehow on numerous previous drivethroughs). Meanwhile, Elizabeth Taylor Graphics boldly advertises on a giant sign that they make "Posters and Signs and Shit". I am not making this up.
5:46pm: Out bus briefly bursts up to the dizzying speed of 40km an hour and to celebrate Karen and I consume a meat stick. Though the meat stick is of a higher quality than those typically consumed by my TBALC brother I still feel he would approve. We risk much by attacking our supplies this early into the voyage but still have our supply of small cheeses to fall back on.
5:52pm: Why, can I? Spot several locals swimming in the river and suddenly realise with horror that I have forgotten to check my shoes for didymo. Of course, I haven't really been near any didymo-afflicted South Island rivers in them, but that's probably just how didymo wants me to think. Hope to avoid going down in history with Typhoid Mary as "Didymo Ben".
6:08pm: Ah, police anti-speeding awareness ads, completely wasted on the habitual passenger. "How fast are you going?" Why, my dear (photograph of an) officer, I have absolutely no idea.
6:11pm: Bus seat across the aisle from Karen falls into its component pieces, apropos of nothing. Somewhat disconcerting. Bus is fairly ancient, yet probably younger than our driver, who seems to produce racking wet coughs quite frequently. Hmmmmm.
6:14pm: "Kuku Beach" coming up. Obviously just like Waikuku Beach, but without the water. Who'd go there?
6:22pm: A sign outside the station informs us that the Levin Fire Brigade has attended 154 fires this year. Crikey! Levin - town of arsonists? Or maybe just one very industrious one.
7pm: There is some kind of truly occult sickness about Palmerston North. I have recounted the horror of the "Illuzzions" motel before, but on the way through this time I also spot "Lotz of Potz", "Itza Deal", and - just up the road from "Illuzzions" - the "Shadzz" motel. The what? I mean...what? Bus cannot drive away fast enough.
7:36pm: You have to hand it to the people of Bulls - they never met a "bull" pun they didn't like. In fact, they never met a chance to tenuously insert the word "bull" into a sentence that they didn't marry and have four children with.
8pm: A prisoner exchange of buses. We swap our ancient bus driver for a slightly less ancient one. Ancient driver informs us in rather melancholy tones before departing that the bus company is closing down in a couple of weeks. I guess that means they won't have to replace the fallen apart seat.
8:35pm: A dinner stop in Wanganui. Our choices are exotic Wanganui McDonald's or exotic Wanganui BK. We opt for the former. Back on the bus which takes off again, turning a couple of corners. Karen, engrossed in book, looks up and asks if I know what town we are in now. Advise her it is still Wanganui. She is suitably embarrassed.
9pm onwards: The last run to New Plymouth. Scenery not much to look at, what with the darkness and all.
Wellington bound, December 1st.
2:05pm Scrape munchkins off legs, board bus. Driver ancient. Seems to be a theme. Eyes me with high suspicion over his roll-your-owns.
2:26pm: Inglewood. Drakes Furnishers are directly next door to Martin's Fashions, but have somehow failed to learn any grammar lessons.
2:29pm: Do you think the people of Taranaki have noticed this whacking great mountain they have? It's always getting in the road of my view of numerous flat dairy farms. Can't help but notice that flying over this earlier in the year was a tad faster.
2:33pm: Sign on road leading away from New Plymouth reads "National Motorcycle Expo, Easter Weekend 2008, New Plymouth". Er, stop, turn around, I need to go back to New Plymouth and, um, stay until next Easter? Odd.
2:38pm: Midhirst. Notable for giant, ugly building, and strange man sitting in bushes. Are the two connected? Possibly.
2:42pm: The Taranaki Abatoir has a number of sheep grazing happily directly next to it. Livestock: ignorant.
2:45pm: Stratford, the Ashburton of the North. My but there were some ugly buildings built in the 60s and 70s. I think high on the priority list of tasks after the invention of time travel is to travel to this period and warn architects. "No, I know you think that looks good, but you're not going to wanna see it in 40 years! Trust me!" Those that will not be convinced will have to be eliminated, of course. The "Otago Chambers" of Stratford is not ugly, but does seem to be lost.
2:50pm: We pass the "Cheal A production facility", clearly the first of a series of such facilities producing high-grade Cheal at the rate of several, er, units of Cheal, uh, let's go with annually.
2:56pm: Eltham. The North Island has a ludicrous surplus of small towns.
3:04pm: Consumption of a 600ml bottle of Coke immediately prior to departure starting to look (feel) like a poor move, tactically speaking.
3:13pm: Hawera is possibly the only town in the world to be composed entirely of farm supply stores.
3:47pm: The SEEEEEAAA!
3:51pm: I have observed the silly numbers of golf courses in the North Island on previous visits - this time round I am noticing crazy numbers of horse racing tracks, the pavilions of which typically seem to be the biggest and most well-appointed looking buildings for miles around them. Odd.
3:56pm: Weirdest roadside sign yet - fire danger style semi circle with red, orange, yellow sections and adjustable arrow. Legend above this however does not read "Fire Danger" but instead "Facial Eczema Monitoring". I am not making this up.
4:04pm: Spraypainted label on otherwise unremarkable pile of gravel on the side of the road identifies it as pile of gravel "FHSC5". The C likely stands for "Cheal" in these parts of course, but the rest is cryptic.
4:13pm: Remember I am heading to a 30th birthday party. Am thus reminded I am turning 30 myself in 10 days. Fight down minor panic attack.
4:14pm: From the Stupidly Obvious School of Naming Stuff comes "Bushy Park".
4:23pm: Stupidly Obvious School of Naming Stuff, Part Two: "Land Meat New Zealand Ltd." Oh, "Land Meat"? As opposed to "Sea Meat" and "Air Meat"? I wonder if these exist as the fishing and poultry arms of the company respectively.
4:27pm: Ahh, Wanganui. It seems like it was only Monday that I supped at your McDonald's. Wanganui College motto "All Is Overcome By Working" something of a cause for concern.
5:10pm: I had hoped to nap through Palmerston North and its utter disregard for common English spelling, but I am rudely awakened by another driver exchange. I guess roll-up man wants to make sure he is back in New Plymouth in time for the motorbike show next Easter.
5:40pm: It's a stonking great wind farm they've got themselves here in Manawatu. Note to self: never parachute into it. Additional note to world at large: the title "Terminal Velocity" should surely have produced a better film.
5:51pm: I'm sure they must also exist elsewhere, but I can't recall seeing a Defence Force Recruitment Office anywhere apart from in Palmerston North. It would only make sense I suppose that many local young people would be driven into the French Foreign Legion by the spelling.
6:18pm: Palmerston North serves up possibly the worst kebab ever. Poor use of my distinctly meagre remaining funds. My hate/hate relationship with this 'burg continues.
7:08pm: What goes on at the Horowhenua Masonic Lodge, I wonder? It certainly looks mysterious. One can only imagine the nature of the hideous experiments conducted at the "Masonic Medical Centre". Shudder. Elsewhere in Levin, the record shows no more fires since Monday, and I have decided that it must be a legal requirement for cinemas with more than one theatre in their building to include that number in their name, as if the public should be fully appraised of how many theatres are about at any given time, possibly for movie emergencies.
7:15am: It seems like only yesterday that it was 2 o'clock this afternoon.
8:45pm: Wellington, obviously wishing to distance itself from the town planning nightmare that is the Hutt Valley, has cleverly arranged for there to be a corner you come around and go BAM into Wellington with. They even put their "Wellington" sign there. None of your straggly old Hutt Valley here, mate, this here's the county line. I really full that for full effect however they should hire a full orchestra to sit permanently in that particular spot and play a dramatic wwaaaAAAHHHHH!!! for the benefit each passing car.
Adam's 30th was duly headed to and was, as Facebook has revealed, quite an evening.
In other news, Lost starts up again in the States tomorrow and I am excited. Most people I know have given it away by now but I am definitely still a highly interested fan. The first 4 episodes in the new series apparently have very good advanced reviews, so I am taking that as a good sign. I went to check out ABC.com to see what was up and came across their official (and surprisingly flippant) "Lost so far in 8 minutes and 15 seconds" summary video. The first two seasons take up 4 minutes to explain, and the most recent season another 4 minutes. As a summary it's interesting in that 8 minutes 15 seconds is indeed enough time to tell you all the most important facts from 3 entire seasons of television, while, at the same time utterly not telling you even the tiniest fraction of what you need to know about what is going on. I guess this is Lost summed up. Well, it is, it's a recap of Lost. But you know what I mean. Or you don't. Oh to hell with it, the other 3 people still watching it will know. I suppose what I'm getting at is that it's a show of details; endless endless intriguing details. I guess either you go in for that or not.
In other other news, books are good. In the last month or so I have churned through Altered Carbon (very cool, highly violent, look forward to the film), Pillars of the Earth (still good, now I can go find the new sequel), Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (OK, but a bit disappointingly predictable), League of Extraordinary Gentlemen: The Black Dossier (weird but still followable, a bit gimmicky but still cool, curiosity inspiring but obscure, the least good of the three volumes to date for me - but still good. Going to have to go and eventually read a whole bunch of other stuff because of it. Also starting to think Alan Moore is turning into a dirty old man) and am now about 150 pages into the Gormenghast trilogy (very slow moving but VERY atmospheric, highly intriguing to date. Lost in book form?). My first Tom Holt and Neil Gaiman reading experiences await my attentions after I plough through the next 800 odd pages of Gormenghast (and then probably look up , download and view the 4 part mini series the BBC made of it, because I have to see who they cast and what they did with the visuals) Quite a timesucker but then I think being able to have "what are you reading at the moment?" asked of me and readily answered is a good thing.
In other other other news, time to post this hodge-podge and go to bed, I suspect.