tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-89815991820309831962023-11-16T08:40:20.125-08:00Wood of KingsA blog by Nick WardNick Wardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00177361825206389084noreply@blogger.comBlogger100125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8981599182030983196.post-89264988933080244622019-12-09T20:06:00.002-08:002019-12-09T20:06:54.988-08:00Tim Ward (No Relation)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIf3pQl6mV2yYgGRjA6tGuQCuOM_w44CFAy3dpcD-V4vFzup7RilASPNpiMJhPq442-FQgMYibgqlx-8QjTAtCj-t4VoSoW9AaXLEgrG3p0IY0UHIhCh6AFRORgbfFthJK9Rwru2OTH9w/s1600/53376280_10157111804689458_8692035422143905792_n.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIf3pQl6mV2yYgGRjA6tGuQCuOM_w44CFAy3dpcD-V4vFzup7RilASPNpiMJhPq442-FQgMYibgqlx-8QjTAtCj-t4VoSoW9AaXLEgrG3p0IY0UHIhCh6AFRORgbfFthJK9Rwru2OTH9w/s320/53376280_10157111804689458_8692035422143905792_n.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
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Tim is a cat I've known for quite a few years - he's the man behind many of the venues I like to drink in. Places like Good Luck and the San Fran Bathhouse in Wellington. The latter venue is probably solely responsible for much of the hearing loss I'm encountering now in my twilight years.<br />
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In all that time I have never seen Tim out of sorts, he's always got a smile on his dial this dude. Always embarking on a new challenge. Always on the move. Bouncing round projects like an accelerated particle in a quantum chamber.<br />
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Recently I found myself caught up in Tims orbit as he took me on a tour of his latest wonderful endeavour - The Abandoned Brewery. The story behind this project is so Kiwi it hurts. In a nutshell, a chap in the grip of drunken hubris bought himself all the equipment to set up a brewery. Then he lost interest. Tim and his mates discovered this abandoned brewery and decided to make a go of it. I love tales like this. They now supply many places around town with their fine beverages. Tim, more often than not, dropping off a kegs to them in his beaten up (but much-loved) ute. Bars, bowling clubs and select venues all happily stock this uniquely Wellington creation.<br />
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This year I attended Beervana and there was Tim with his wonderfully crazy stand (it looked like a cross between a mad scientist's lab and a control room at a Russian power station). I was swaying back and forth holding some generic stout from one of the other stands. Tim took a sip of it and, with an expression that said "I think Nick can do better than this", he tipped it out and replaced it with a glass of the Abandoned Brewery stout. Smooth, velvety and lovingly crafted the difference was day and a very dark stormy night. Tim replaced it with no fuss or fanfare and he didn't even wait for me to say anything but I'll say it now - you could taste the difference and that difference was: someone really cared about this beer.<br />
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This was made with love not with an eye on the bottom line.<br />
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That's something that's always been true of Tim, while he's very successful in his projects it's not because he's some kind of high-flying businessman, it's simply because he cares about what he does. He never compromises and he does it all with a smile on his face (even though sometimes that face looks very, very tired). Tim is one of those people it's a joy to be around because he makes it all look so easy but still ensures you're smiling as much as he is. There's something we can all learn from that. Next time you're in Wellington seek out a beer from the Abandoned Brewery and you'll see what I mean. Chur Tim you're a GC.Nick Wardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00177361825206389084noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8981599182030983196.post-7203251674268959352019-12-05T17:10:00.001-08:002019-12-05T17:10:28.531-08:00In Praise of Dave..<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVdEIwhdvr-_3LH8mELhZ2W3fU55zTMkK-EAzKA6giR1qKFxmAYArs6uMgyrxIy_W2EAw57ZhORfjI-qayok8Xw2iN6HC8w5i9FwuHNWXh6zkFkbYBRVbSVIYP7OC1b3KrSVddE_rsOSI/s1600/Dave+.png" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="367" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVdEIwhdvr-_3LH8mELhZ2W3fU55zTMkK-EAzKA6giR1qKFxmAYArs6uMgyrxIy_W2EAw57ZhORfjI-qayok8Xw2iN6HC8w5i9FwuHNWXh6zkFkbYBRVbSVIYP7OC1b3KrSVddE_rsOSI/s400/Dave+.png" width="400" /></a><br />
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Dave Fane is a performer I've worked with many times in the past. He's like a huge bear hug of a man. No just in size but also in mana. He encases you. Overwhelms you. I find myself leaving any encounter with Dave feeling better about not just myself, but about the world.<br />
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He's the guy you want to hang out with in the bar. He has the best stories and always listens attentively to yours. That's a rare quality in this day and age.<br />
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I can't remember the first time I met Dave but I would like to recount a couple of small encounters to you. These will help give you an insight into the man behind the performer.<br />
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One. I was an extra in a TV show. I was hanging around waiting for something to happen and Dave approached me. "Wanna play some chess bro?" I had to confess to him that it was a LONG time since I'd actually played. He patted me on the back and sat me down. He assured me I'd be fine. A short while into the game he looked at me and said "Yep you haven't played in a real long time." He laughed and wiped me off the board. I wasn't anyone important. I was a hapless extra standing around looking gormless but Dave took me under his wing and made me feel welcome.<br />
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Two. I bumped into Dave in a bar in Auckland. It was loud. It was dark. It was pumping. Dave saw me and a smile sprung to his face. He wrapped an arm around me and said "I loved your movie mate" Dave, by this time, was an actor who was linked to so many NZ hits like "Sione's Wedding", "Outrageous Fortune" and "Bro Town" - stuff that was cutting edge and subversive. My movie was none of these things. It was a sweet, feel-good story that I was incredibly proud of. It went to number one at the box office. "Second-Hand Wedding". It wasn't "edgy" or "worthy" and, as a result, I got a lot of stick from some of my contemporaries for making something they saw as "lightweight" and "cheesy." Dave didn't, he saw it for what it was. A movie about family. And he said so, it was the first piece of unsolicited, genuine praise I'd had from someone in the industry. "Second-Hand Wedding" was a movie I wrote about my family my mother, father and sister. Dave was so warm and, well so "Dave", I was really moved. I had to nip to the loo to have a little cry.<br />
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Three. We were casting for "Fresh Eggs" and the network had rejected everyone we'd put forward to play the roll of Pig. Pig is a pivotal part of the story. He's the monster that shows up and kicks the series into gear. He had to be terrifying. He had to be a bad mofo. We were getting desperate. In the end someone suggested Dave. The network jumped at this. Dave was a "name" that they could use to sell the show. I was happy and then panic set in. Dave - cuddly, loveable Dave? An actor with a high profile from playing funny, likeable characters? Playing a monstrous baddie? A baddie that so much of our series was hinged on? Gulp. Then I saw his performance. I had forgotten that Dave Fane is not just a comedian he's an utterly magnificent actor. He brought both menace and comedy to the character of Pig and helped us nail our first episode. Dave you splendid man, thank you.<br />
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I have noticed that Dave has recently been cast in Taika Waititi's up-coming movie "Next Goal Wins" An adaptation of the 2014 documentary that follows the struggles of an American Samoa football team as they go from perennial losers into winners. I'm sure Dave will shine in whatever role he is in but this is proof positive that good things do happen to good people and, if you put in the work into your chosen craft, you will always rise. Dave is, and always has been, a terrific guy to be around but only in the last few years have I realised he's also an inspiration to me. Manuia Dave!Nick Wardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00177361825206389084noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8981599182030983196.post-83302611362369632362017-10-09T20:45:00.000-07:002017-10-09T20:45:39.604-07:00For David<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; line-height: normal; min-height: 17px;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"></span>This post is specifically for David Mamea who I only ever see at the NZWG Awards and who always asks me why feck all is happening on my blog. </div>
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So this year I actually presented the awards but due to a terrible venue - who refused to turn down the music from the bar - and the shittiest sound system in christendom no one actually heard a word I said. No problem I'll be able to use the same jokes next year. Also I got a lot of pity drinks brought for me. </div>
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So here's the speech that no one heard...</div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Fade in.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Interior. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">A bar. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Evening. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">It’s a salubrious bar. Lit by a half-light. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">A handsome, bearded man stands on the stage his luxuriant salt and pepper hair puts us in mind of a young George Clooney. Before he got all preachy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">The man is sober we get the feeling this is not a regular occurrence which gives us the impression this must be an event of some importance. We will call this man Nick Ward he is, for want of a better word, the hero of this story. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">In front of him is a crowd filled with a motley collection of individuals reminiscent of the bar scene in Star Wars. There are young faces here. Faces filled with hope, yet to have their dreams smashed on the ground in front of them like a ice cream dropped from the hands of a child. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">(There is some faint laughter not as much as I was hoping for but it’s there)</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">There are other faces too, older faces, impossibly jaded faces. Faces where hope is a distant, distant memory. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Something is in the air. These characters are perhaps not used to associating so freely with each other. But tonight there exists an uneasy truce. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">They all look expectantly at Nick hoping that he will shut up and get on with it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Tension grows. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">They wait. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">And they wait. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">And they wait some more. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Someone shouts “get on with it” </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Finally he speaks his rich voice reminiscent of honey poured over aged leather. A voice of authority…</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Good Evening everyone and welcome to the eighth annual SWANZ. The New Zealand Writers Guild is delighted and honoured to have you all with us this evening, to celebrate and congratulate your works. Writers we salute you!</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Since the SWANZ inception many things have changed in our local market, with the introduction and growth of subscription, online and streaming services like Netflix, Lightbox, Hulu and Amazon. Video games now have sweeping story arcs. Broadcast TV still has so much to offer as well. We watch on our laptops on our phones and our watches. In fact we don’t just watch a show any more we binge it. Which makes it even harder for us as writers to get anything done. Personally I’m only still half-way through Twin Peaks because I got distracted by Narcos, Ozark, Rick and Morty and S-Town. Then they went and released Destiny 2! There’s always a lot of talk about how prolific Charles Dickens was - that’s only because all he had to distract him from writing was mutton chops, pickles and ale. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Viewers have become “eyeballs”, quality scripted material is now “content” and our kiwiness is now called “original” or “unique” selling points.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Still the craft of writing has stayed the same. The magic of creating worlds and characters, no matter what the format, is the gift of the writer to their audience. To entertain, to provoke and to educate. At the guild we want to see the best possible scripts come to life on a screen – no matter how big or how small. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">So tonight, we raise our glasses to the creators, the idea generators, the story magicians, the space jockeys, the skilful ink manipulators the wild-eyed loners licking the electric banana of life… the writers. You lot. Yes you.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Now onto the Awards! This year along with the Trophy, winners of the script awards will also receive the latest version of Final Draft!</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">First let’s talk business. </span></div>
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<li style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 8px;"><span style="font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;"></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">These are Our awards, put on for writers and by writers.</span></li>
<li style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 8px;"><span style="font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;"></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">The scripts were assessed on the quality of the writing only. No consideration was given to budgets, subject matter, director’s vision, genre, box-office or critical success.</span></li>
<li style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 8px;"><span style="font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;"></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">All judges were either full members of the NZWG or experienced industry practitioners who have shown support and loyalty to NZ writers and to the NZWG. </span></li>
<li style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 8px;"><span style="font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;"></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">No employees or members of the Board of any networks or funding organisation such as the NZ Film Commission or NZ On Air were judges or in any way involved in the judging process.</span></li>
<li style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 8px;"><span style="font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;"></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">We are very grateful to the support of our sponsors: </span></li>
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<li style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 8px;"><span style="font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;"></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">Final Draft, ATEED - Auckland Tourism, Events and Economic Development, South Pacific Pictures, Filthy Productions and the New Zealand Film Commission.</span></li>
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<li style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 8px;"><span style="font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;"></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">Most importantly, thank you to the judges for their time and effort!</span></li>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Finalists and guests be prepared; these awards are fast. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">So have you been to the loo? Have you filled your glasses? Have you got your 30 second thank you speech ready? We don’t have music to play you off the stage, but keep in mind there will be a lot of writers out there who will be resentful of you prolonging their chance to get to the free bar. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">So if you’re sitting comfortably? Then we’ll begin…</span></div>
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<b>(INSERT AWARDS HERE)</b></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Congratulations to all of our SWANZ winners this year.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">And thank you again to our sponsors – Final Draft, ATEED – Auckland Tourism, Events and Economic Development, South Pacific Pictures, Filthy Productions and the New Zealand Film Commission </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">A final word from NZWG - New Zealand is a small market with unique frustrations and challenges, at the Guild we are working hard, alongside our guild sisters and brothers, to improve our industry. NZWG is part of a bigger global community of writers, and in 2018 we are creating pathways to help our writers become part of that wider community!</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">NOW… Once more unto the bar dear friends, once more unto the bar.</span></div>
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Nick Wardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00177361825206389084noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8981599182030983196.post-36285107482321376802017-04-26T03:39:00.000-07:002017-04-27T14:07:27.111-07:00The ugly truth behind "that" Pepsi Ad. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">As you skid, out of control, towards the gaping abyss of a flaming garbage fire you might have pause to think how did it all go so wrong? </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Without fail a raging storm of fecal matter begins with one poor decision. The trouble is, at the time, you can’t see where that first step will inevitably lead you. Like following a trail of MMs into the dripping maw of a slavering failure beast that first choice seems so sweet. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">For instance, a group of people sat around and said you know what’s cool right now? Protesting. Standing up against the man. Everyone is doing that. Counter-culture that’s what the kids love. Then they took that thinking another step further. One more MM on the trail to disaster. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">What if we use protesting to sell our soft drink? </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">This is the point where someone needed to stop the train of thought because that bastard was coming off the tracks and it hadn’t even left the station. I can only assume this “idea” came from someone in a position of power surrounded by drones that could only utter variations of the words “Yes, Sir, we love it.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">That bad idea was soon followed by a succession of dreadful mind spews that included such gems as “Kendall Jenner in a blonde wig” and “An ethnic gentleman playing a musical instrument on a rooftop” and “A woman in a hijab getting angry at a pile of photos” and “A cop accepting a Pepsi rather than spraying pepper in faceholes.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">While everyone around me was reeling back in horror at the Kendall Jenner/Pepsi/Black Lives Don’t Matter clusterbarf I couldn’t stop thinking how on earth did Pepsi ever let this happen? So I started digging, I did what any good detective does. I asked the interwebs. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Where was the creative genius behind this “ad”? A short time later I arrived at the virtual doorway of “Creators League.” Yep they actually called themselves that. What do we you? We create, because we’re creative. Who are we? We’re a group of people. Toby get the thesaurus and look up “group” - what’s the first word? “League”? That’s it! From this moment on we shall be known as “Creators League.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">They live in a 4,000-square foot content studio in New York’s SoHo neighborhood. Whenever the hell a “content studio” is. Soon my trawl through cyberspace turned up the ugly truth about “Creators League” namely it is an agency entirely staffed by puppets. That’s right, puppets., because there’s a corporate hand jammed up right their sock slot.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">In May 2016 Pepsi proudly announced the opening of “Creators League,” in the hope it will let marketers, not agencies, sit in the creative driver’s seat. Before this stroke of brilliance, if Pepsi needed to get an edit made to an online film or piece of content, it would involve sending that piece off to an agency, who then in turn would perhaps send it an editor — a process that took, on average two weeks. Nowadays it takes an hour.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Just an hour. Awesome. Not a creative person comes near it. The marketers come up with a thought, something along the lines of; “Hey did you see those Black Lives Matter marches on TV last night? We should tap that.” Then some work experience kids wired to the eyeballs on energy drinks will take out the office camera, shoot it, edit it and put it online. Job done. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">They had removed all the pesky things that stop ideas skidding towards the world like a sledge loaded with TNT and piloted by a masturbating monkey. Those things were 1) people who would’ve actually taken the time to craft an idea and, more importantly, 2) people who say NO to a bad idea. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">There’s a lesson to be learned here and it’s an old lesson. If you go to a restaurant and order a three star meal then don’t go into the kitchen and tell the chef how to cook it. If you create your own agency and tell them what to do then you will get something that looks like an idea, smells like an idea but dear baby jebus, it will not be an idea. In fact, chances are, it will a very bad idea. Yes it’s an idea you paid half as much for and it was created overnight but will that be worth all the damage it will do to your brand? </span><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span></div>
Nick Wardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00177361825206389084noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8981599182030983196.post-32001294516499701402016-06-20T17:05:00.000-07:002016-06-20T18:11:07.658-07:00Auctions, "Legal Advice" and Mr Butthurt<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; min-height: 14px;">
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I’ve been thinking about my recent brush with Mainfrieght. </div>
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For those of you not up to speed I was auctioning an “artwork” that featured their logo bust into pieces. You’ll find the text for the auction at the bottom of this post. </div>
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The auction ran for just over 24hours. It was on over hundred watch lists with over six and a half thousand views. When Mainfreight decided to shut it down. Now this is where things get interesting.</div>
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Did they come after me for pointing out how terrible their service is? Or refute the fact they had smashed all my stuff in the past?</div>
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Nope. </div>
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Instead they contacted TradeMe (who were pretty brave letting me auction the thing in the first place at least they have a sense of humour) and made them shut the auction down over an IP issue (that’s Intellectual Property which is basically their logo). That was their only recourse. Interesting. So I’m guessing they had a hurried meeting and set their lawyers on the task. And they reacted in a day. Fast turnaround. From what I know about lawyers I’m guessing that wasn’t cheap. </div>
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When someone reacts so quickly to shut you down you know what that says to me?</div>
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<b>Guilt. </b></div>
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The next thing that happened - within 10 minutes of the email I got from TradeMe saying the auction had be shut down - was a phone call, on my cellphone - from the manager I named on this blog. You’ll notice that posting has been removed from here more on that later. </div>
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He informed me in veiled terms he was seeking legal advice because I had named him here on the blog. I’m still worried about naming and shaming him again so for the purposes of this story we’ll call him “Mr Butthurt” When I asked Mr Butthurt “are you guys setting your lawyers on me?” He quickly refuted this by again stating “I’m seeking legal advice.” Because I had named him. Cold chill time. He also went to great lengths to explain to me this was him personally not Mainfreight who would be “seeking legal advice.”</div>
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I pointed out to Mr Butthurt that it was my personal blog and I had posted emails he had sent me. Nothing was untrue it was his own words. He went on to point out that the blog was linked to a TradeMe auction with 6,500 views and over 100 watchers… wow he was really paying attention to the auction wasn’t he? He also reminded me that I was the person who’s pervious action had over a million views. He had really done his homework. </div>
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So here’s what I think happened. Mainfreight, knowing someone was exposing their less-than-impressive business practices, had found a sneaky way to shut down the auction - “Everything he’s saying is true but wait a minute he’s using our IP!” I hope that guy got a raise. </div>
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However then there was the sticky subject of my personal blog post. Notoriously difficult to shut down. So they phone up Mr Butthurt and say you tell him to shut it down or - not in these words - you’re going to sue him. Don’t worry we’ll pay your legal bills. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if they didn’t threaten to throw him under the train if he didn’t react. </div>
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They did all this in a day. What does that say to you?</div>
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<b>I scared them. </b></div>
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One of the biggest companies in New Zealand was frightened of a hairy bloke sitting in front of his laptop in his underwear. </div>
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They didn’t think to embrace this auction and join in on the fun. Call me and say we’ll buy the thing if you donate the money to a charity. They didn’t look to find a positive spin. They didn’t come out in the media and say we’re going to make things right with this guy and replace all his stuff that we trashed. No they didn’t. Instead they shut me down.</div>
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Why?</div>
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Because if they did if for me they’d have to do it for the hundreds of thousands of other people they’re done this to. I’ve been contacted by a lot of people who have some terrible things to say about Mainfrieght and the same thing keeps coming up again and again. </div>
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<b>They’re bullies. Big, bad bullies. </b></div>
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Sadly they were successful and I’ve removed my post that named Mr Butthurt however there’s nothing stopping me putting it up again and changing his name to conceal his identity is there. So keep an eye oh for my correspondence with “Mr Butthurt” in the future. </div>
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In the meantime here’s the text from my auction which was cut down just as it was getting up and running…</div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b>"A few years ago I shipped my precious possessions from Auckland to Wellington. Imagine my surprise when they arrived and I discovered it looked like they had been attacked by a troop of angry baboons high on rage medication. Not a single object had escaped their primal fury. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b>Naturally, I was upset with the company - how was this the “premium” service I paid for? They were utterly indifferent to my pleas. This was because I hadn’t realised what I’d signed up for. They hadn’t taken the happiest moments of my life and trashed them, no, they had taken them and turned them into ART. What a silly sausage I was for not seeing this. I’ve never really understood modern art so it was initially lost on me. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b>My priceless heirlooms and irreplaceable objects hadn’t been ruined they had been “deconstructed” like a dessert at a fancy restaurant. I had no right to complain. They had done me a huge favour and their trained rage-monkeys had actually increased the value of my possessions!</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b>Wow what a service! No wonder they’re one of our countries biggest companies. However I have since had a lot difficulty selling the broken detritus they “gifted” to me and I’ve spend years trying to recoup my losses. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b>But then I had a brilliant idea! I would use their service to create a new work of art! I created this abstract signage, carefully packaged it (got to give them a challenge right?) and sent it to myself through their company. Originally I thought it might take a few attempts for them to work their magic so I was fully intending to send it back and forth a few times. Amazingly the butter-fingered, jackbooted cave trolls worked their artistic magic on the first attempt. As you can see. So I dutifully framed the “artwork” and put it up here for your amusement... sorry consideration. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b>I have also decided to put a “buy now” price in case some large corporation wanted to shut this auction down early and hang this stunning piece of art in their head office as a constant reminder of their high standards of service. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b>If you have any questions I’m here and ready to happily answer them. </b></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-kerning: none;">For the story behind this art work please visit my blog."</span> </b></div>
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I wonder how long it will be before I get another friendly-but-threatening phone call. Or a horses head in my bed. </div>
Nick Wardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00177361825206389084noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8981599182030983196.post-5153133389653912242016-06-19T21:55:00.001-07:002016-06-19T21:55:43.221-07:00So where did my auction go?Sadly the fun is over. The shipping company in question contacted TradeMe and said my artwork was an IP infringement. This is how Al Capone must've felt when he got done for tax avoidance.<br />
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TradeMe have been great about this as they always are. Love those guys.<br />
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However as far as the shipping company are concerned they didn't see the humour in the situation. In fact I'm sure any minute now there's going to be a knock on the door from "the boys." I also had a phone call from the individual I named on this blog who said he was taking legal advice. So I've taken down that post and apologised to the man who was responsible for so much misery in my life because, I'm guessing, this caused him a lot of embarrassment at work. Which in truth doesn't make me feel too crash hot about myself. I inadvertently cyber-bullied the dude. <br />
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I when I was a kid at school there were these two boys that would pick on me. One of them was almost six foot and they made my life a misery and as a result I've never liked bullies. However when someone is bigger than you sometimes it's best just to avoid eye contact.<br />
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I hope you don't think less of me for backing down.<br />
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Nick Wardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00177361825206389084noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8981599182030983196.post-44048270151608603732016-02-14T16:30:00.000-08:002016-02-14T17:30:20.099-08:00Dear Marcus<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I know things move at a glacial pace here at The Wood of Kings. But in my defence I've been waiting to have some good things to post. And I think you'll enjoy this. There's a bit of reading but it's fun.<br />
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Quick backstory. I had to park in a parking building and I couldn't find a damn ticket machine anywhere. Believe me I looked. There was a boot but it contained nothing more than some broken chairs and some beer bottles. So I wrote a note and left it inside my windscreen explaining and I included my phone number. Ring me and I'll come and pay.<br />
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When I returned to my car I discovered a ticket for $65 waiting for me. I had been there no longer than 45 mins. Strangely enough the only real way to correspond with NZCMS was by mail. How quaint.<br />
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So I embarked on a series of letters with Marcus Baker at NZCMS. I decided to start relatively normal. Stating my case and pleading for leniency. I does start pretty dull but stick with us as things progressed I got more and more insane. As you'll see...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqXvqHo7DbQz0UTRJbOPbsLWZVxWnocNAFsffKalcazq5kr9DRIFEbof-3SHppHzFzsgFincQdyMNVvv3GW2Xe6cQwK-GzhKDyd14VnL5BbXmzQDDcBZ9Z5ENGb4VsiuoiD0RMFFUBwBFz/s1600/1.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqXvqHo7DbQz0UTRJbOPbsLWZVxWnocNAFsffKalcazq5kr9DRIFEbof-3SHppHzFzsgFincQdyMNVvv3GW2Xe6cQwK-GzhKDyd14VnL5BbXmzQDDcBZ9Z5ENGb4VsiuoiD0RMFFUBwBFz/s320/1.jpg" width="225" /></a><br />
So far so grovelling. His reply was beautifully robotic.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK33vj_spPQ6jbrMEW__ItLYd5KztsuEuGuH2cuiPeJS3IlC8O1pi9GWdM1UJ80wbF6Z81a4VyFg-6ZSTL8JZ2tLe0ps4gQwPbgxl-U2SOMNtwwz-ivO8tiB6L_vSshHsOSm9MhTrv7sML/s1600/2.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK33vj_spPQ6jbrMEW__ItLYd5KztsuEuGuH2cuiPeJS3IlC8O1pi9GWdM1UJ80wbF6Z81a4VyFg-6ZSTL8JZ2tLe0ps4gQwPbgxl-U2SOMNtwwz-ivO8tiB6L_vSshHsOSm9MhTrv7sML/s320/2.jpg" width="226" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdu8Az73DkJzUSKOgS2Bh1W4nvS-_0KpbGED_FhQIVIOcMm7spzn4glWsykx02v3xXLclqY1Mw3TC8OeEC9LGtXWRQkuDvm8rtpH6EdZUDagP2CdlWEiK8fFWQ4tItjW5bIfU9e9tH77Ug/s1600/3.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdu8Az73DkJzUSKOgS2Bh1W4nvS-_0KpbGED_FhQIVIOcMm7spzn4glWsykx02v3xXLclqY1Mw3TC8OeEC9LGtXWRQkuDvm8rtpH6EdZUDagP2CdlWEiK8fFWQ4tItjW5bIfU9e9tH77Ug/s320/3.jpg" width="226" /></a></div>
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However he had made his first mistake. He had engaged with me. Like a commuter who had accidentally made eye contact with a raving hobo on the street. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibHkR4Fx8ECa_8W-Eoubn70cKHnGiHHy6lOf79a-cwFn19yVTM4RTB6AQVah3uRPiRsz6Icxhg_yUM-lALe4Y33vPjcs1ZqN8sfGOdmFK9YLZTylKqRC2tP54x6OUODasvU0sT6WMib54a/s1600/4.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibHkR4Fx8ECa_8W-Eoubn70cKHnGiHHy6lOf79a-cwFn19yVTM4RTB6AQVah3uRPiRsz6Icxhg_yUM-lALe4Y33vPjcs1ZqN8sfGOdmFK9YLZTylKqRC2tP54x6OUODasvU0sT6WMib54a/s320/4.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigxBjQpvk5MSVUu8YtXTGJo3PvQqel9lE7ZTCoa5HpQ_DMNUR_7KgwRN9tI6xrh0lfUI5ZraGA-mxBlbQHcqg5ujJsvxkxRY1IMND-qfk-Av1mnM9yFvaMWAgbkCP3RZWx1bES9eyjCFeY/s1600/5.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigxBjQpvk5MSVUu8YtXTGJo3PvQqel9lE7ZTCoa5HpQ_DMNUR_7KgwRN9tI6xrh0lfUI5ZraGA-mxBlbQHcqg5ujJsvxkxRY1IMND-qfk-Av1mnM9yFvaMWAgbkCP3RZWx1bES9eyjCFeY/s320/5.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>
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Then something great happened Sally also decided to join the correspondence. She's a little firecracker this one. But she didn't figure on my growing friendship with Marcus. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRMdqx6C3-Es_yEcGsMdTRVHka9EP-ZAIwK15N7F89AtvX42Jts340W2Z_W9BTPoFdbGbXYJnYAwYoPSt4HUAVd42dOURCTA9ZYq8niGwLFsNhZOlSQ2kBdPRN5mTLCRIvqwwxPcY_9Pry/s1600/6.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRMdqx6C3-Es_yEcGsMdTRVHka9EP-ZAIwK15N7F89AtvX42Jts340W2Z_W9BTPoFdbGbXYJnYAwYoPSt4HUAVd42dOURCTA9ZYq8niGwLFsNhZOlSQ2kBdPRN5mTLCRIvqwwxPcY_9Pry/s320/6.jpg" width="226" /></a></div>
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So I started replying to Sally as well...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpVC0j8Bg5b4VlPjf_I6E2LBPvOBeDa7mbuefkN5KiQXkGy-vR0dwTHtpSjiXXhFGD4GYpN7CsM4Oz7nTBsai82D-3DL8DKPu8OE1jyDnjD15uhApD19UF5Oh4aa0Ua8cczijLeRFjALAc/s1600/7.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpVC0j8Bg5b4VlPjf_I6E2LBPvOBeDa7mbuefkN5KiQXkGy-vR0dwTHtpSjiXXhFGD4GYpN7CsM4Oz7nTBsai82D-3DL8DKPu8OE1jyDnjD15uhApD19UF5Oh4aa0Ua8cczijLeRFjALAc/s320/7.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>
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Also it was festive season so I decided to send Marcus a card...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzTEC8NGCRnTMgH_MwBbCgdWhCVC8-QDrQs3jc9eX0IM7b2occW3Q2AzPUW7squhWkzFW7LRU8OmJj8YrDtpyfQVNKLHozJV1r9qB1P8cE8986xy5e0hAM9Rcq0BJev6E-ZMkkMmcCikdV/s1600/8.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzTEC8NGCRnTMgH_MwBbCgdWhCVC8-QDrQs3jc9eX0IM7b2occW3Q2AzPUW7squhWkzFW7LRU8OmJj8YrDtpyfQVNKLHozJV1r9qB1P8cE8986xy5e0hAM9Rcq0BJev6E-ZMkkMmcCikdV/s320/8.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0GybVirSNNJ_dpvmeD-ByjeK-WoUJoGT07sxkTvK7vQRzjhVdT6kLetqEE1dJmtv2oY1X12MTAKZrJShBGiBZ5X0k7t8DCl27SzBR0f9UOTJHwM1Jp8LyRlkXrT-a08YL1IUbAA0O_mUU/s1600/9.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0GybVirSNNJ_dpvmeD-ByjeK-WoUJoGT07sxkTvK7vQRzjhVdT6kLetqEE1dJmtv2oY1X12MTAKZrJShBGiBZ5X0k7t8DCl27SzBR0f9UOTJHwM1Jp8LyRlkXrT-a08YL1IUbAA0O_mUU/s320/9.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Marcus responded in true impersonal form.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfjuv_l9PBzG3QDryRTb-IfeXXpWqhIZua1-tZlUS5lYQ0F21f9p94GBH0ETr6zmR3cZfU1PU26nw3p3luh7udp7s57Cmuy3sdTB1XPGISW4-CMJL0bt-dD_cvvwT7o3HTyEjjKpwHANU1/s1600/10.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfjuv_l9PBzG3QDryRTb-IfeXXpWqhIZua1-tZlUS5lYQ0F21f9p94GBH0ETr6zmR3cZfU1PU26nw3p3luh7udp7s57Cmuy3sdTB1XPGISW4-CMJL0bt-dD_cvvwT7o3HTyEjjKpwHANU1/s320/10.jpg" width="226" /></a></div>
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The poor chap seems a bit confused I decided to help him out and, in the process, try to further cement our growing personal bond. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsuUN018gpt9UMyhTJmtPg8VLlL1BUtwiOMF2L-0SOAMTcRuyuPBC1miRAntPRjf1fRwoJhyvtYN_VAPDNc0hWN_-8IFn_hfCAgK7zUrjn8OCNbMXOpoUfBq4K7rwxAZ6eXVHxKVPxN5ET/s1600/11.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsuUN018gpt9UMyhTJmtPg8VLlL1BUtwiOMF2L-0SOAMTcRuyuPBC1miRAntPRjf1fRwoJhyvtYN_VAPDNc0hWN_-8IFn_hfCAgK7zUrjn8OCNbMXOpoUfBq4K7rwxAZ6eXVHxKVPxN5ET/s320/11.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>
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I think this must've struck a nerve with Marcus because he suddenly seemed very keen to shut down our conversation. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5qFjf-wlCgLt3EwMAmrBu5v643jigbGzFDAhMz5RBwoL3Vd2NMXya2JJpOzyRzJtgvdrS6ncipg2GybyLyB1tssPTkpoi4cpVu0baH5Y5FXbq79Gak1XBP_0Q4au1XrI2SH-DYY8LpA7t/s1600/12.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5qFjf-wlCgLt3EwMAmrBu5v643jigbGzFDAhMz5RBwoL3Vd2NMXya2JJpOzyRzJtgvdrS6ncipg2GybyLyB1tssPTkpoi4cpVu0baH5Y5FXbq79Gak1XBP_0Q4au1XrI2SH-DYY8LpA7t/s320/12.jpg" width="226" /></a></div>
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Not so fast mate. So I sent him a letter by registered mail. He was going to have to open this one. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoY65qyZVtEUna-LEiNxjx_3tVr6SHBAQ2uaWFi584tUHs1rIEwhWMvKBAthvqWqpcs9hcEHO-UsWKOhec6JmajnV029s2FtnajmxLcpzzUob99tZdVFaD81tMoX_l5HyxcbaLIYyS2KO3/s1600/13.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoY65qyZVtEUna-LEiNxjx_3tVr6SHBAQ2uaWFi584tUHs1rIEwhWMvKBAthvqWqpcs9hcEHO-UsWKOhec6JmajnV029s2FtnajmxLcpzzUob99tZdVFaD81tMoX_l5HyxcbaLIYyS2KO3/s320/13.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgonXFzt91ySzxXP8m_muUGMxs56gu0EMFgEBVmD8wa679htNsWO_e9GHhVzPyTWTzUad78JgsLQeCObVORAc6Xe0Y0nrjgIjRWRmcqHfUZ6BhpVLewG5G-YCI7xg_7V5bWNpiOdHFERQpH/s1600/14.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgonXFzt91ySzxXP8m_muUGMxs56gu0EMFgEBVmD8wa679htNsWO_e9GHhVzPyTWTzUad78JgsLQeCObVORAc6Xe0Y0nrjgIjRWRmcqHfUZ6BhpVLewG5G-YCI7xg_7V5bWNpiOdHFERQpH/s320/14.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>
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And I decided to add a personal drawing. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzYdvWXD1xWm4oMssP3dXTPFVngzxPrekrNeXpm9hOVhVcGcSGIqLHleqFAf4TEVG1_HThVuAO3iStYbd1X_Qi-WSUo88Hy-cba7uN8NTkNoEowqzsCpAPjb9dO1GVtnkxUehtraM_EhZz/s1600/15.jpeg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzYdvWXD1xWm4oMssP3dXTPFVngzxPrekrNeXpm9hOVhVcGcSGIqLHleqFAf4TEVG1_HThVuAO3iStYbd1X_Qi-WSUo88Hy-cba7uN8NTkNoEowqzsCpAPjb9dO1GVtnkxUehtraM_EhZz/s320/15.jpeg" width="226" /></a></div>
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NZ Post, bless them, tried multiple times to deliver this bundle of joy but sadly it was eventually returned to me. Marcus is a lot more cunning than I thought. A worthy adversary. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7zdOEeDjarruXvo83m8GxAFbvoqtvIurJNmfyGVXAReMyGdto5wiW4RZqyjnLK-ET8-57gQb44yx6L0eg3dQGdb84LONysbre6CQ7BKRDMZj8-t7zK9RGH4jBv47XXynaCqxkJLG5JVd4/s1600/16.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7zdOEeDjarruXvo83m8GxAFbvoqtvIurJNmfyGVXAReMyGdto5wiW4RZqyjnLK-ET8-57gQb44yx6L0eg3dQGdb84LONysbre6CQ7BKRDMZj8-t7zK9RGH4jBv47XXynaCqxkJLG5JVd4/s320/16.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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The company doesn't exist. Well played Mr Baker, well played. So I simply popped it in another envelope and sent it away. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSAP7eNiq9fYQ-MrfbiPD6DRXMgV1mHVG9KA1_lYz2_rQJL4x6jDjyiAZzEDwUhZBF3CgBvSxyyMrqXZMwIQo5sTP_JjkecSrzy5tQDq_TjhVfWQs7oGS8gTZCUvZKDoDaVpzTG23aESaa/s1600/17.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSAP7eNiq9fYQ-MrfbiPD6DRXMgV1mHVG9KA1_lYz2_rQJL4x6jDjyiAZzEDwUhZBF3CgBvSxyyMrqXZMwIQo5sTP_JjkecSrzy5tQDq_TjhVfWQs7oGS8gTZCUvZKDoDaVpzTG23aESaa/s320/17.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I'm sad to report I haven't heard anything from Marcus since. No doubt pocketed the cash and taken that little hellcat Sally for a passion-filled night on the town. I'll miss him. I guess I just have have to remind myself that some birds aren't meant to be caged. Their feathers are just too bright. And when they fly away, the part of you that knows it was a sin to lock them up does rejoice. But still, the place you live in is just that much more drab and empty that they're gone.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I guess I just miss my friend.</span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8981599182030983196.post-22099221142350333582015-02-14T17:53:00.002-08:002015-02-14T17:53:23.063-08:00Enjoy the View<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
There are some days I just can't help myself.<br />
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For example recently this woman posted this "inspirational" drivel on FaceBook. The images and names have been changed to protect the moronic.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifji_jGomS2hbtgbMOsQPYH9a07C2ctozxi0PYvlno0RXeukI2sYeAzZzKvsdRCYAjXaFqBZvYoz4Fx4Pzn2s5OHlHayYzNEZVm0tVK8aDeQ1Oqoycxk50hJvxbD-WikoIZ_qDfDppFMrg/s1600/Tree1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifji_jGomS2hbtgbMOsQPYH9a07C2ctozxi0PYvlno0RXeukI2sYeAzZzKvsdRCYAjXaFqBZvYoz4Fx4Pzn2s5OHlHayYzNEZVm0tVK8aDeQ1Oqoycxk50hJvxbD-WikoIZ_qDfDppFMrg/s1600/Tree1.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></div>
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We see this stuff more and more these days it's usually the banal masquerading as deep and insightful. So I decided to prick the balloon the inane. Anyway this guy - let's call him Mr Angry - took offence...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikP1okXHKuB1bE-Ny5g-nmqPvJbXtI5noZzQOg3geSZbXxqqU0TT5CGAp8zELf2Q0cSHhD0Ojam9EpR0ZtwNSUJgQF6aXk7yl5zKaYlsnBX16aPDM3mw9OdOu_YTfbfGkkNA_Dz_5f5xJ-/s1600/Tree2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikP1okXHKuB1bE-Ny5g-nmqPvJbXtI5noZzQOg3geSZbXxqqU0TT5CGAp8zELf2Q0cSHhD0Ojam9EpR0ZtwNSUJgQF6aXk7yl5zKaYlsnBX16aPDM3mw9OdOu_YTfbfGkkNA_Dz_5f5xJ-/s1600/Tree2.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></div>
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Sensing an opportunity for some fun I then deleted my original post so now it looked like his was the first comment...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNsMM4F1bsAhHuuXOWLo_Vy33XW6p9QstDY4t3N5OtkN88YRsvpClgjoXGbGNYh0el9rJ50K0Ro4q4ut8PNrZhkCOJWzM3j1MD9Yxy9uBP-ZIKcFZWmoUz0zk7N6dunLzeO7P1bgmdr2UR/s1600/Tree3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNsMM4F1bsAhHuuXOWLo_Vy33XW6p9QstDY4t3N5OtkN88YRsvpClgjoXGbGNYh0el9rJ50K0Ro4q4ut8PNrZhkCOJWzM3j1MD9Yxy9uBP-ZIKcFZWmoUz0zk7N6dunLzeO7P1bgmdr2UR/s1600/Tree3.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></div>
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Sadly I wasn't quick enough to get the further responses after this but they were mostly people asking what the hell was Mr Angry's problem. He got a lot angrier after this.<br />
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I love social media. </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8981599182030983196.post-90204356544915442812014-06-19T20:02:00.001-07:002014-06-19T20:02:34.807-07:00Where there's Smoke...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
So I've been doing some TV ads again recently. I've been out of the game for a while so I was worried that I might be a bit rusty. However the finished ads are just smashing directed by the very clever Taika Waititi the NZ Director behind such great NZ films as Eagle verses Shark, Boy and the recent hilarious Vellington Vampire "documentary" What We Do In The Shadows.<br />
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So anyway here are the ads I hope you like them. They're dark, funny and I hope they strike a cord with the audience...<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8981599182030983196.post-75617191760531185102014-06-05T04:21:00.000-07:002014-06-06T16:52:43.123-07:00Typist Wanted<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
For many years now I've been making a living as a screenwriter. However it's not a profession that gets much respect from the rest of the industry. Here's a recent example. I got an email from a young lady, a camera operator, who wanted to know if I would write a script for her.<br />
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It started off innocently enough with an email...<br />
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You'll need to click on these emails to expand them but I promise you it will be worth the effort.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC0AX6X8ZH7CbHCOyt0SMb9ifgocnSp5VFGHwiraU1zhOEcGJaK5wubJLZO2Xk66QpY6OgA8OgEc9klt_fmon0fyrYerFXkyLonpdUniLvozxGLiiYo-jKAdeKfgZvOZpaPkrmtg9L2gi8/s1600/Hawks+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC0AX6X8ZH7CbHCOyt0SMb9ifgocnSp5VFGHwiraU1zhOEcGJaK5wubJLZO2Xk66QpY6OgA8OgEc9klt_fmon0fyrYerFXkyLonpdUniLvozxGLiiYo-jKAdeKfgZvOZpaPkrmtg9L2gi8/s1600/Hawks+1.jpg" /></a></div>
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I politely declined. My problem has always been that I'm too nice. So hot on the heels of this email came another...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFv6N9FodjbvzPeBerYCxnHYc_6f3fHHH-4rXXE4oi1-Na8FGUXDIurMi5IflwYXmxHvBSLu8WzZWSx8TPedAa2Bq9cRSQerFVxTim-4E__l4WmrGSrXmFcHJS-lk35myDiHRiNKFsdm3Z/s1600/Hawks+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFv6N9FodjbvzPeBerYCxnHYc_6f3fHHH-4rXXE4oi1-Na8FGUXDIurMi5IflwYXmxHvBSLu8WzZWSx8TPedAa2Bq9cRSQerFVxTim-4E__l4WmrGSrXmFcHJS-lk35myDiHRiNKFsdm3Z/s1600/Hawks+2.jpg" /></a></div>
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Frankly, I don't think I've ever had such an insulting email in my life.<br />
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So I send her a message explaining everything that was wrong with this email.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgycqTA7X3inGqgoUFwff6WU1klTvK7491FyevDTozZK4bxP3sdZS0bOc-gvHVfEcvFdWPlYK0HcZY7uf5Lv9MfQP0cQmzM8RUg9ONjd_1uXVEhsE1tbGBFEgKJ6VJai_uO7kzNSIuZo7YN/s1600/Hawks+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgycqTA7X3inGqgoUFwff6WU1klTvK7491FyevDTozZK4bxP3sdZS0bOc-gvHVfEcvFdWPlYK0HcZY7uf5Lv9MfQP0cQmzM8RUg9ONjd_1uXVEhsE1tbGBFEgKJ6VJai_uO7kzNSIuZo7YN/s1600/Hawks+3.jpg" /></a></div>
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I thought this did a good job of educating this young lady on the error of her ways. It seems I was wrong...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSW0zz3W_9nPY8gYDLPGIpATwm0owY-puDS4kc1qjJ3I2G4nATOqnHrqg3Cob1xQazGm9ta-pf1bVhrGn8SATj5Gd8CZmZ91DU_PAtcAhqqOqqfGJHPHax5d8UY2J-x7WRpeUo1q3i4Jou/s1600/Hawks+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSW0zz3W_9nPY8gYDLPGIpATwm0owY-puDS4kc1qjJ3I2G4nATOqnHrqg3Cob1xQazGm9ta-pf1bVhrGn8SATj5Gd8CZmZ91DU_PAtcAhqqOqqfGJHPHax5d8UY2J-x7WRpeUo1q3i4Jou/s1600/Hawks+4.jpg" /></a></div>
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This was followed quick smart by another email...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirQwn2JI2uBnN_JhZiGtcDQWuLmDyrtZwIhXkhHZgxlLvVKitHjaptEuyMjsAwhiR4GcTDkELeaf_o63zyZljQiwroPyv4ppkpVhxeYRW6OucAaXPRjs2pCiUQpwYIOg4nVruaTXxEO27l/s1600/Hawks+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirQwn2JI2uBnN_JhZiGtcDQWuLmDyrtZwIhXkhHZgxlLvVKitHjaptEuyMjsAwhiR4GcTDkELeaf_o63zyZljQiwroPyv4ppkpVhxeYRW6OucAaXPRjs2pCiUQpwYIOg4nVruaTXxEO27l/s1600/Hawks+5.jpg" /></a></div>
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Am I taking crazy pills here? This person still seems to be trying to get me to "format" her script for her.<br />
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Can you spot what is missing from these emails? I did...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwNqcLMc7cRWRyj0JCbI2nHDaQtX36yNNoDyqd9pBGBpBWm0F-j7RPW0CBGaq6uHIzf7dI1HlippjG67KCWXbTCDGU_drgPAnnBJyy1QpAeGE5-Rg8OZfqx7k-61tc-wBRB2oPAdt7IVut/s1600/Hawks+6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwNqcLMc7cRWRyj0JCbI2nHDaQtX36yNNoDyqd9pBGBpBWm0F-j7RPW0CBGaq6uHIzf7dI1HlippjG67KCWXbTCDGU_drgPAnnBJyy1QpAeGE5-Rg8OZfqx7k-61tc-wBRB2oPAdt7IVut/s1600/Hawks+6.jpg" /></a></div>
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Yeah I'm a bit of a jerk here but enough was enough. Would it have killed her to say sorry?<br />
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It appears not...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT-pQfZItRbUjDvfdCPRDXoRBAlipOvMkn69IQH7iw-0IL79IfTOdpY2JqRslCwhndifxYprg-j2LC2l0IfB-sYIbGaaVT9zF3UnUuaLwhHnjw5n549ssjMTNeblkqsWOnBUUBZGHsHDRr/s1600/Hawks+End.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT-pQfZItRbUjDvfdCPRDXoRBAlipOvMkn69IQH7iw-0IL79IfTOdpY2JqRslCwhndifxYprg-j2LC2l0IfB-sYIbGaaVT9zF3UnUuaLwhHnjw5n549ssjMTNeblkqsWOnBUUBZGHsHDRr/s1600/Hawks+End.jpg" /></a></div>
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Here in the New Zealand film industry this happens all-too often. Writers are never seen as making any kind of worthwhile contribution to the process, we're just a box to tick or a problem to overcome. Which is why our storytelling suffers.<br />
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I hope my pain has given you a few chuckles. I was laughing as I read these emails. Laughing though the tears. The bitter, bitter tears. </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8981599182030983196.post-60862805061401932192014-05-04T16:07:00.000-07:002014-05-04T16:07:13.506-07:00What Makes a Hero?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi52yW_YBQREW4n6RQgOYqUMhDMsJgxWFsCGbtcsjpaQf8SyIyt9PVVyWflZ59rNJqnpZc3CwcyilxcExutElY7FDM8Aseda3FufvTvoqLMnjXK3_q8E59Dz48XFMDAuPzAVrDJ41M-AgjM/s1600/Stranger.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi52yW_YBQREW4n6RQgOYqUMhDMsJgxWFsCGbtcsjpaQf8SyIyt9PVVyWflZ59rNJqnpZc3CwcyilxcExutElY7FDM8Aseda3FufvTvoqLMnjXK3_q8E59Dz48XFMDAuPzAVrDJ41M-AgjM/s1600/Stranger.jpg" height="236" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i><span style="color: white;">“I only mention it because sometimes there's a man... I won't say a hero, 'cause, what's a hero? But sometimes, there's a man. And I'm talkin' about the Dude here. Sometimes, there's a man, well, he's the man for his time and place. He fits right </span></i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i><span style="color: white;">in there.”</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: white; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></h2>
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: black; letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: white; font-size: large;">10 most heroic moments from movies</span></span></h2>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>“No use, Joker! I knew you'd employ your sneezing powder, so I took an Anti-Allergy Pill! Instead of a sneeze, I've caught you cold!</i>” - Adam West as the campy 60’s Batman. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWRx2TFnw8GOqB8Ev5SjlDWAYmiyU8uhYRi2C-uX58A6kp3qzKyBCf3mw8on7hBf7wVGvTGLZFNm31OdII2dnuGmOmcZ4b5syP9r6sh-F2l6yQfP0x76KmAArScnKtbDUKsdQMamF1ObfH/s1600/Batman+Bomb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWRx2TFnw8GOqB8Ev5SjlDWAYmiyU8uhYRi2C-uX58A6kp3qzKyBCf3mw8on7hBf7wVGvTGLZFNm31OdII2dnuGmOmcZ4b5syP9r6sh-F2l6yQfP0x76KmAArScnKtbDUKsdQMamF1ObfH/s1600/Batman+Bomb.jpg" height="320" width="251" /></a></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Movies are where heroes live and here are some of their most heroic deeds. This is by no means a definitive list, it’s buffet. Take what you want and leave the rest. You may find your favourite heroic event missing and for that we’re sorry. Then again some of these you will most definitely disagree with and that’s fine but we do hope they make you think because if we’ve learnt anything from the movies it’s that you don’t have to wear a cape to be a hero. Being a hero doesn’t mean leaping from an exploding building while holding a beautiful woman in your arms. Sometimes saving the day can be as easy as stepping up on stage in front of a crowded room or a stopping a mummy from sucking your best friend’s soul out through his arse. So open your mind and enjoy some pure, heroic moments.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Raiders of the Lost Ark </span></h3>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS6OH0HytlI2PRPZVjIDFh3lJfKOW_xj-bV0wxe-EyJNh8n-LBJr3DzgvcUy1kmF02yGEMFCPL-RZ1kKhj6t6jbLAyq0foiSJfgKuZFZeCl6QKBs6GvPu7GCoIcqqe8Bu5byFbmu9AlkuG/s1600/Indiana.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS6OH0HytlI2PRPZVjIDFh3lJfKOW_xj-bV0wxe-EyJNh8n-LBJr3DzgvcUy1kmF02yGEMFCPL-RZ1kKhj6t6jbLAyq0foiSJfgKuZFZeCl6QKBs6GvPu7GCoIcqqe8Bu5byFbmu9AlkuG/s1600/Indiana.jpeg" height="137" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">There are so many heroic moments in this movie it’s almost impossible to pick just one. Andy running from the giant boulder at the beginning is pure ironic movie heroism. Climbing under the nazi truck? The swim to the submarine? This is not an easy choice but there is one moment in this film where we all found ourselves jumping from our seats to cheer on Indiana Jones. The bit where instead of fighting the giant swordsman Indy simply pulls his gun and shoots him.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Legend goes that during filming Harrison Ford had been suffering from dysentery and exhaustion due to the extreme heat of Tunisia during filming. As originally planned, a scene was elaborately choreographed, with Jones facing the expert swordsman and trying to defeat him with just his whip. Some footage of the planned fight was shot (and was seen in at least one of the movie's trailers) but the filming was proving to be very tedious, both for Ford and the crew, and at some point the star had had enough. It has been widely reported that he said something to Spielberg along the lines of, "I have a gun why don't I just shoot the son of a bitch?" Spielberg liked the idea, scrapped the rest of the fight scene, and filmed the brief sequence that appears in the movie. It sums up Indy’s character perfectly - he’s a hero who doesn’t play by the rules. </span></div>
<h3 style="text-align: left;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">When We Were Kings</span></h3>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>"I dun sumthin’ special for this fight! I dun wraselled an alligator. I hospitalised a brick! I’m so bad I make medicine sick!" </i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Regular readers will know this is one of our favorite movies and with good reason. It’s the story of Muhammad Ali going to Zaire to square off against George Forman in the famous "Rumble in the Jungle.” The moment of pure heroism in this movie is summed up by a still shot. A photograph that features Norman Mailer and George Plimpton - respected writers in Zaire to cover the fight. Both men didn’t believe Ali could beat the monster that was George Foreman. The photo was taken at the exact moment Ali did just that. Floored Foreman. Both Mailer and Plimpton are rising from their seats with expressions of disbelief and excitement dancing on their faces. It doesn’t come better than that and heroes don’t come bigger than Muhammad Ali. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Shaun of the Dead</span></h3>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>“Take car. Go to mum's. Kill Phil - "Sorry." - grab Liz, go to the Winchester, have a nice cold pint, and wait for all of this to blow over. How's that for a slice of fried gold?”</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Sometimes heroes rise from the most unlikely of places. In the case of this movie Shaun - a hopeless drone in electronic retail shop - gets his call to greatness when Zombies start taking over the world. It’s the classic story boy meets girl, girl becomes disillusioned with boy, girl leaves boy, the dead rise and start eating the living. It’s a Zom-Rom-Com. Shaun’s heroic fate is one I think all of us can identify with, while everyone else is running scared he assembles his friends and leads them to the safest place he knows - the pub. You can’t really get more heroic than that. After all, if the end of the world is happening what better place to wait it out than your local boozer? </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The Last Boy Scout</span></h3>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">In the early 90's, there was a definite, consistent presence in action movies: slow motion cinematography, wild gun-play, and funny one-liners. Granted, there are still some of those today, but it just wasn't the same as was back in the heady days of expolison-filled flicks like The Last Boy Scout. Now there are so many special effects in the current action films that it drowns out what used to be the true heart of the "popcorn flick". Bruce Willis character Joe - a jaded, deadbeat P.I. - saves the life of the man who ruined his career, and avenges the death of the guy that fucked his wife. But his true moment of heroic glory comes when he casually tells a villain that if he touches him again he’ll kill him. Needless to say the guy touches him again and Joe does kill him - just a casually as he issued the threat. Classic. The jig at the end after he offs the bad guy into the blades of a passing helicopter is pretty sweet too.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Sin City</span></h3>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUmemRmO_RowSNEGqR9WXpbfZRVuxABTr5cldoHyDKnGKIdOurwPIZ66V5-sRhUW02iERDg32I2ixVGlPo6TwqCiWRAAyYsGAXvLJXL1zllcG8CXswTGjRR2kToowjyFOJTphHwenBcrsj/s1600/mickey-rourke-sin-city-marv.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUmemRmO_RowSNEGqR9WXpbfZRVuxABTr5cldoHyDKnGKIdOurwPIZ66V5-sRhUW02iERDg32I2ixVGlPo6TwqCiWRAAyYsGAXvLJXL1zllcG8CXswTGjRR2kToowjyFOJTphHwenBcrsj/s1600/mickey-rourke-sin-city-marv.jpg" height="181" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Delivered in a blistering ballet of bullets and blood, dames and danger at every turn. Sin City is a pitch-perfect adaptation of Frank Miller's graphic novels based in the fictional town of Basin City. A kinetic masterpiece of pop culture. Chief amongst the town's residents is Marv, who trawls the darkest areas of the city looking for the person who killed his one true love, Goldie. Marv - as played by Mikey Rourke - is a monstrous unstoppable man mountain who bats cops and crooks aside as if they were flies. Marv is covered in scars, mentally unhinged, violent and never far from a drink... or trouble. Hardly what you might call hero material. But when he faces off against the silent, smiling psychopath Kevin then I defy anyone not to feel like cheering. Even when Marv feeds Kevin to his own dog - while he’s still alive - you can help but feel your heart lift almost as much as your stomach churns. The big man himself sums it all up when he says - “I've been framed for murder and the cops are in on it. But the real enemy, the son of a bitch who killed the angel lying next to me, he's out there somewhere, out of sight, the big missing piece that'll give me how and the why and a face and a name and a soul to send screaming into hell.” You can’t spell anti-hero without “hero” I say. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Field of Dreams</span></h3>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Sometimes heroes do crazy things. That’s what makes them heroes. Come on, no sane person would run into a burning building to save a child would they? Logic often doesn’t play a part in heroic acts. There’s no place for it to be honest. Heroes defy logic and sanity. Never has that been more obvious than in the heroic act that Ray Kinsella (Kevin Costtner in his best role ever) undertakes in Field of Dreams. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">He ploughs under his cornfield to build a baseball diamond - putting his farm, his family and his sanity at risk. Why? Because a voice tells him too. This starts him on a journey that ends with not a dry eye in the house. But this isn’t just a heroic moment because of it’s sheer insanity it’s also heroic because Ray listens to the voice in his head and acts on it. So often we ignore the voice inside us because - frankly - its suggestions are pretty crazy but I think if more of us acted on our inner voices we’d live in a more interesting world. Expect if your voice is telling to buy a semi-automatic weapon and pick off people like ants from a high tower. Don’t listen to that voice. That’s a bad voice. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Team America: World Police</span></h3>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgerDv6mVOAfcTzPH98g5O5L2OmBRTb-BLprrHbJMx1pg7JlwRAs07LED7fUnsFFZMAN7FUN6bOth4cEMXxztf8R31chpxw8deG2hepMjg23lKaQuQ_Vil56Xl4nH3WC9IIrUdtojENADw9/s1600/TEAM_09.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgerDv6mVOAfcTzPH98g5O5L2OmBRTb-BLprrHbJMx1pg7JlwRAs07LED7fUnsFFZMAN7FUN6bOth4cEMXxztf8R31chpxw8deG2hepMjg23lKaQuQ_Vil56Xl4nH3WC9IIrUdtojENADw9/s1600/TEAM_09.jpg" height="172" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">There is a moment in Team America that rivals some of the greatest most heroic moments in any movie with, or without, puppets. Broadway star and World Police officer Gary Johnston must face Alec Baldwin president of the Film Actors Guild in an “act off” in front of the assembled leaders of the free world. The speech unites everyone, saves the world and defeats the bad guy. Here printed, in it’s entirety, is that speech. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“<i>We're dicks! We're reckless, arrogant, stupid dicks. And the Film Actors Guild are pussies. And Kim Jong Il is an asshole. Pussies don't like dicks, because pussies get fucked by dicks. But dicks also fuck assholes: assholes that just want to shit on everything. Pussies may think they can deal with assholes their way. But the only thing that can fuck an asshole is a dick, with some balls. The problem with dicks is: they fuck too much or fuck when it isn't appropriate - and it takes a pussy to show them that. But sometimes, pussies can be so full of shit that they become assholes themselves... because pussies are an inch and half away from ass holes. I don't know much about this crazy, crazy world, but I do know this: If you don't let us fuck this asshole, we're going to have our dicks and pussies all covered in shit!” </i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Bubba Ho-tep</span></h3>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Based on the Bram Stoker Award nominee short story by cult author Joe R. Lansdale, Bubba Ho-tep tells the "true" story of what really did become of Elvis Presley. We find Elvis (Bruce Campbell) as an elderly resident in an East Texas rest home, who switched identities with an Elvis impersonator years before his "death", then missed his chance to switch back. Elvis teams up with Jack (Ossie Davis), a fellow nursing home resident who thinks that he is actually President John F. Kennedy, and the two valiant old codgers sally forth to battle an evil Egyptian entity who has chosen their long-term care facility as a place to feed his hunger by sucking the residents souls out through their arses. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I’m not pointing to any one heroic moment in this film the movie in itself is pretty damn heroic. An aging Elvis fighting a mummy in a retirement home? It’s astounding that anyone actually gave them money to make this crazy piece of film-making in the first place. But they did and it’s a mad little gem of a movie. The heroic element in this movie is actually one of the most heroic things I can think of - enduring friendship. Elvis and JFK face old age and a soul-sucking demon together. I can only hope that later in life my friends and I can share that kind of friendship. Minus the mummy of course. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Napoleon Dynamite</span></h3>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">The misleading tagline for this film reads - “He’s out to prove he’s got nothing to prove.” Fricking idiots. The marketing boffins that came up with that garbage should be tied to a piece of nylon and dragged behind a school bus. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Preston, Idaho's most curious resident, Napoleon Dynamite, lives with his grandma and his 32-year-old brother (who cruises chat rooms for ladies) and works to help his best friend, Pedro, snatch the Student Body President title from mean teen Summer. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Like Bubba Ho-tep this is another movie about friendship amongst many other things, including - but not limited to - cage fighting, ligers, time machines, tater tots, lazy lamas and becoming president. It’s this last thing that brings us to our heroic moment and it’s a doozy - which is why I’ve saved it for last. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">With everything hanging in the balance, Pedro mounts the stage and delivers his student body presidential candidate speech. It doesn’t exactly set the world on fire so ubernerd Napoleon Dynamite leaps onto stage and rocks out to the phat beats of Jamiroquai. He puts everything on the line for his friend - well he risks making even more of a frickin’ idiot of himself. But that heroic act of friendship is something wonderful to behold. Something Awesome. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Sideways</span></h3>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Two men in search of wine. In search of women. In search of themselves. Hardly a movie you expect to find a hero. After all, can you really only enjoy films where the characters are people you'd happily have over to your home for dinner? Well the two guys in this film would make your skin crawl if they sat down next to you. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Feature Films are not popularity contests. And sometimes heroes can be people we don’t actually like very much. When the character of Miles (Played brilliantly by tubby every-man Paul Giamatti) steals cash from his mother's bedroom dresser near the beginning of the film do we find him morally reprehensible? Absolutely. But your heart breaks for him when he does it. You can see how much he hates himself. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 0px;">Thankfully Miles redeems himself at the end when he climbs the steps to Maya’s door and knocks on it. This is a moment of heroism equal to every hostage ever rescued by Arnie, ever. For anyone that’s ever been there, those steps are like Everest. The simple act of raising your arm to knock on that door is like lifting an elephant. How does Maya react when she answers his knock? We’ll never know and we don’t need to because the real moment of power, moment of glory lies in Miles plucking up the courage to rap his knuckles on the door of the woman who just might be the love of his life.</span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8981599182030983196.post-73560546948449808422014-04-28T04:55:00.000-07:002014-04-28T04:55:43.166-07:00Sympathy for the Old Devil<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Please allow me to introduce myself</b></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>I’m a man of wealth and taste</b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>I’ve been around for a long, long year</b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>Stole many a man’s soul and faith</b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“Please excuse me,' he said, speaking correctly, but with a foreign accent, 'for presuming to speak to you without an introduction.” In 1968 the Rolling Stones entered the Olympic Sound Studios in London to record a song written by Mick Jagger a song called “Sympathy for the Devil.” You will know him by his works the saying goes. So to know Mr Jagger first we have to get to know the devil.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The highway baptists will tell us that Rock n’ Roll sings with a forked tongue. It stalks a fiery stage with cloven heels while the stench of the sulfurous pit hangs heavy in the air. Rock bands with their reverse messages and pentagrams are, without doubt, in league with the devil. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Rock n’ Roll is by it’s nature demonic. From the moment Elvis gyrated his hips and Chuck Berry duck-walked across the stage the christian right have looked at R&R with a troubled expression. There’s something wrong about that there music. It’s the devil’s music I tell you! </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Various upstarts in rock’s fraternity haven’t honestly done much to improve this image. In fact they’ve positively embraced the dark lord. They are Knights in Satan’s Service who worship on the Black Sabbath. But let’s face the Devil is above all else a showman. That’s what R&R and Old Scratch share in common it’s all about getting your soul. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Sir Mick has a lot to answer for in this relationship. After all he was the first to bring the devil to the party and respectfully request that we show the man some sympathy. Jagger sums it up like this "...it's a very long historical figure -- the figures of evil and figures of good -- so it is a tremendously long trail he's made as personified in this piece." </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>And I was round when Jesus Christ</b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>Made damn sure that Pilate</b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>Washed his hands and sealed his fate</b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Jagger is quoted on the subject, “[When people started taking us as devil worshippers], I thought it was a really odd thing, because it was only one song, after all. It wasn't like it was a whole album, with lots of occult signs on the back. People seemed to embrace the image so readily, [and] it has carried all the way over into heavy metal bands today.”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Even he is forced to admit that him and his crew started the stone rolling with their album “Their Satanic Majesties Request.” But it was the “Beggar’s Banquet” that introduced us to the man himself. Sympathy for the Devil was a song that Jagger largely composed himself with a little help from his partner in crime Keith Richards. They cleared a seat at the banquet and the devil happily joined the party. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The effect of the song sent out ripples that we are still feeling today. Richards himself said it best, "Before, we were just innocent kids out for a good time, they're saying, 'They're evil, they're evil.' Oh, I'm evil, really? So that makes you start thinking about evil... What is evil? Half of it, I don't know how much people think of Mick as the devil or as just a good rock performer or what? There are black magicians who think we are acting as unknown agents of Lucifer and others who think we are Lucifer. Everybody's Lucifer."</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">These days Mick Jagger is a bit of an old devil himself. He represents the past guard of R&R, a journeyman from a time when excess really was excessive. Our current crop of pop stars are either squeaky clean or just plain tragic. It will come as no great surprise that Mick drank deeply from the well of sex, drugs and rock and roll. But he did it with such a sense of style that not only did he remerge with his life and career intact he managed to score himself a knighthood while he was at it. Not bad for a man who used dress up as the devil onstage. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>Pleased to meet you</b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>Hope you guess my name</b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>But what’s puzzling you</b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>Is the nature of my game</b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">In a 1995 interview with Rolling Stone magazine, Jagger had this to say about Sympathy for the Devil, "I think that was taken from an old idea of Baudelaire’s, I think, but I could be wrong. Sometimes when I look at my Baudelaire books, I can't see it in there. But it was an idea I got from French writing. And I just took a couple of lines and expanded on it. I wrote it as sort of like a Bob Dylan song." Alright so we’ve all heard of Bob Dylan but who the heck is this Baudelaire character? Charles Pierre Baudelaire (1821- 1867) was an influential nineteenth century French poet. This quote sums the man "Personally, I think that the unique and supreme delight lies in the certainty of doing 'evil' -- and men and women know from birth that all pleasure lies in evil." His most famous collection of poems “The Flowers of Evil”. This book created quiet a stir at the time of it’s release mainly because of it’s principle themes of sex and death. It was the rock and roll of it’s time so no wonder Baudelaire’s work appealed to Jagger.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">But the songs roots are more firmly entrenched in the work of another writer. “The Master and Margarita” is a novel by Mikhail Bulgakov. It tells the story of the Devil visiting the fervently atheistic Soviet Union. It a strange satire filled with a cast of increasingly strange characters. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Marianne Faithfull - the original motorcycle girl was Mick Jagger's girlfriend at the time and she turned him onto the book. Faithfull came from an upper-class background - a woman of wealth and taste - and exposed Jagger to a lot of new ideas. In fact Faithfull's maternal great-great-uncle was Leopold von Sacher-Masoch, the infamous 19th century Austrian nobleman whose erotic novel, “Venus in Furs” added a new word to our lexicon - “masochism”. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“The new fashion”, says Jagger, “Is to talk about the most private parts of your life; other fashion is to repent of your excesses and to criticize the drugs that made you happy in the other times.” </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Needless to say Jagger’s relationship with Faithfull was a rocky one but she still had a great deal of influence on Jagger in these early days - for good and bad. Two songs on Sticky Fingers were also influenced by Faithfull: the chorus of “Wild Horses” ("wild horses couldn't drag me away") is said to be based on a phrase Faithfull uttered after coming out of a coma after an overdoes.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">As Jagger himself has said, “A lot of times songs are very much of a moment, that you just encapsulate. They come to you, you write them, you feel good that day, or bad that day.” Jagger is renowned for his high-profile, multiple relationships like the very public and tumultuous one with Faithfull.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">It’s ironic then that “The Master and Margarita” itself is ultimately about but the emptiness of sensual gratification without love is emphatically illustrated in the satirical passages. The story opens with the Devil introducing himself - ‘Please excuse me,' he said, speaking correctly, but with a foreign accent, 'for presuming to speak to you without an introduction.’ This echoes the opening of the Jaggers song, what’s more forth verse even takes us to Russia. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>I stuck around St. Petersburg</b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>When I saw it was a time for a change</b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>Killed the czar and his ministers</b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>Anastasia screamed in vain</b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">In an age when popular songs seem to be all about popping a cap in some bitches ass or some teenage wabblings about love it’s hard to imagine a popular musician writing a song inspired by both a french poet and one of the greatest Russian novels of the 20th century. Hardly the stuff of Fiddy’s next hit. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">What’s more the The lyrics' focus on atrocities in the history of mankind, including the pervious verse which covers the Russian Revolution of 1917. Satan’s journey through times of violence and cruelty. Maybe as a passenger witnessing God’s cruel hand or maybe as the orchestrator of those events? The song is unclear - puzzling in fact - with Lucifer asking us rather boldly that he hopes we guess his game. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The history lesson continues with Satan holding a General’s rank. Although he doesn’t tell us exactly which side he was on. Which is telling. While Jagger has never been overtly anti-war the lyrics to “Sweet Neo Con” on “Bigger Bang.” “You call yourself a Christian, I think that you're a hypocrite, You say you are a patriot, I think that you're a crock of shit.” When it comes to war the devil never takes sides he’s just happy that there’s a war on it seems.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>I rode a tank</b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>Held a generals rank</b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>When the blitzkrieg raged</b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>And the bodies stank</b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">So literature and a history lesson. Jagger, like Baudelaire and Bulgakov, found himself drawn to the darker side. Drawn to Old Nick. Drawn to Diablo himself. Known by a variety of names—Satan, Lucifer, Mephistopheles—the Devil remains one of the most intriguing and ubiquitous figures in western literature, with such literary luminaries as Dante, Milton, and Goethe finding in him the perfect personification of the human impulse toward evil. Since the advent of the Bible, the Devil has existed as the quintessential adversary, and the ultimate antithesis to goodness and morality. The source of all evil. But in spite of all this bad press there’s something undeniably attractive about the devil. So much more fun than the other guy in the white robes am I right? </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">In the movie excellent movie Bedazzled (the original 1967 version) Peter Cook plays the devil as chap called George Spiggott. Spiggott sums up the devil’s relationship with God in the final speech of the film. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“All right, you great git, you've asked for it. I'll cover the world in Tastee-Freez and Wimpy Burgers. I'll fill it with concrete runways, motorways, aircraft, television, automobiles, advertising, plastic flowers, frozen food and supersonic bangs. I'll make it so noisy and disgusting that even you'll be ashamed of yourself! No wonder you've so few friends; you're unbelievable!” </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Yeah the Devil runs the show cause he’s cooler. Jagger knows this too - you get a lot more attention with brimstone than you do with holy water. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>Hope you guess my name, oh yeah</b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>Ah, what's puzzling you</b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>Is the nature of my game, oh yeah</b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>I watched with glee</b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>While your kings and queens</b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>Fought for ten decades</b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>For the gods they made</b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>I shouted out,</b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>Who killed the Kennedys? </b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>When after all</b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>It was you and me</b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">He’s not telling us anything we don’t already know is he? More people have been killed in the name of god than the name of the devil. It's rather ironic that a religion which so publicly proclaims Absolute Love as its basis should, over the course of history, spawn so much unmitigated hatred and violence. Innocent people die. Good men die. The recording sessions for the track were in progress when the Robert Kennedy was killed, and the words were changed from "Who killed John Kennedy?" to "who killed the Kennedys?" Jagger’s song itself was almost left behind by the events it was documenting. The songs goes on and reaches it’s ultimate conclusion. <br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Jagger has said “The past is a great place and I don't want to erase it or to regret it, but I don't want to be its prisoner either.” He’ll have to go a long distance before he ever escapes this song. When you dance with the devil he leads not you. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-w2QVewnEpr-fnR-CV9kj66I2FpoV50Pr724Zw4XHGkldSTGP2PtIgScpFNgRJL4BRJrr_wjPN0A4dXJbcSTyK_JYO7qeaZMsNDO8GB795iEgAKZwony4n3__bw4_9Q1ttcOnE8AgYttl/s1600/fall.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-w2QVewnEpr-fnR-CV9kj66I2FpoV50Pr724Zw4XHGkldSTGP2PtIgScpFNgRJL4BRJrr_wjPN0A4dXJbcSTyK_JYO7qeaZMsNDO8GB795iEgAKZwony4n3__bw4_9Q1ttcOnE8AgYttl/s1600/fall.jpg" height="320" width="262" /></a></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>Let me please introduce myself</b></span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 14px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>I’m a man of wealth and taste</b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>And I laid traps for troubadours</b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>Who get killed before they reached bombay</b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>Pleased to meet you</b></span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 14px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>Hope you guessed my name, oh yeah</b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>But what’s puzzling you</b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>Is the nature of my game, oh yeah, get down, baby</b></span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 14px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>Pleased to meet you</b></span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 14px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>Hope you guessed my name, oh yeah</b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>But what’s confusing you</b></span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 14px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>Is just the nature of my game</b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>Just as every cop is a criminal</b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>And all the sinners saints</b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>As heads is tails</b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>Just call me lucifer</b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>cause Im in need of some restraint</b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>So if you meet me</b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>Have some courtesy</b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>Have some sympathy, and some taste</b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>Use all your well-learned politesse</b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>Or I’ll lay your soul to waste...</b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Mick Jagger was a much younger man when he penned this song. A song that helped define the Rolling Stones as the bad boys. A song that defined Rock and Roll. A song that defined Mick Jagger himself A song that put the devil in the music. Music we would gladly sell our soul for. Not just Sympathy for the Devil but some well-earned respect. So let’s give the Devil the last line shall we? In the form of George Spiggott again. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“There was a time when I used to get lots of ideas... I thought up the Seven Deadly Sins in one afternoon. The only thing I've come up with recently is advertising.” </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Take a bow you old devil you. </span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8981599182030983196.post-43691856944161966952014-03-29T16:01:00.001-07:002014-03-29T16:01:59.240-07:0010 Things Future Generations Will Learn About Us. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCuPRPhy5Nq6kDF38PQpb3Fh_L6JjUU5CboUQYz6SsoZdGEMECKuz7IlcJd-y7ZTGLktgXjPdUylKz86J6L1q91oM4ocI3fJlSJzKeDG_bVnzY0nZmSTFZyMmI9wOEBd5svvtgcAYFqYPu/s1600/styling_house_of_the_future_00.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCuPRPhy5Nq6kDF38PQpb3Fh_L6JjUU5CboUQYz6SsoZdGEMECKuz7IlcJd-y7ZTGLktgXjPdUylKz86J6L1q91oM4ocI3fJlSJzKeDG_bVnzY0nZmSTFZyMmI9wOEBd5svvtgcAYFqYPu/s1600/styling_house_of_the_future_00.jpg" height="181" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Chances are that sometime in the distant future there will be cyber-archeologists. Talented technicians who will shift through the detritus of data that still exists from the early days of the dawn of the digital age. Like the iron age, this was a time when mankind embraced a new technology and ran with it. By trawling through this information they will be able to piece together snap shots and theories of how we live now. What might might they discover about us? Let’s take a look back at ourselves...</span></div>
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<b style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 0px;">1. They were obsessed with cats. </b></h2>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Like the ancient Egyptians the denizens of the early 21st century seemed to worship cats. They shared images of cats playing pianos and were continually asking cat-based questions. “What kind of cat are you?” , “What is your cat trying to tell you?” and “Wait until you see what this cute cat does next - share on Facebook to view”. Cats held a special, almost mystical place, in the hearts and minds of all social media outlets. </span></div>
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<b style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 0px;">2. Before the universal “Yr” there existed two different versions.</b></h2>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAqR7h1z-N1tReBa1H696sajlg98ER8W7Len-XhmD3sOznF-3944jCFG20gqJm0ZLHSHcZENUoCZEWG44C2pHKTtrs-fWTp65bM0t98YWadNJoCTsnx-cbPwuquc87GPS9dnqwQEHM3cf9/s1600/text.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAqR7h1z-N1tReBa1H696sajlg98ER8W7Len-XhmD3sOznF-3944jCFG20gqJm0ZLHSHcZENUoCZEWG44C2pHKTtrs-fWTp65bM0t98YWadNJoCTsnx-cbPwuquc87GPS9dnqwQEHM3cf9/s1600/text.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Language is always changing. Before text speak there was a much more complicated version of the English language that included words such as “YOUR” and “YOU’RE”. Even more confusingly, there were as many as four different versions of “THR” - “THEY”, “THERE”, “THEIR” and “THEY”RE”. The exact meanings of these variations are lost in the mists of time. </span></div>
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<b style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 0px;">3. People used to pay to see movies.</b></h2>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Believe it or not studios used to spend millions (sometimes billions) of dollars making movies. With special effects and “actors”. What’s more, people would then pay money to view these. This was before the days when we all just viewed everything for free and downloaded our own content. Why anyone would rather watch two hours of film making when they can just watch two minutes out of focus footage of someone lighting their farts is a mystery. </span></div>
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<b style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 0px;">4. Having no talent was actually a job.</b></h2>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Incredibly people with absolutely no discernible talent were able to make millions of dollars. Generally this involved a combination of being an heiress, or appearing in a sex tape, or having simply have said something amusing on a TV news show. Eventually these non-talents ended up marrying someone with talent or becoming a DJ (a task that eventually, in the future, monkeys were trained to do). </span></div>
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<b style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 0px;">5. Plates of food were extremely important for some reason.</b></h2>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiByn8jBTT_bB1TMttGp_3DpZRXU2tKd-GA3UpRr1h3ccu70EYwN6TW1DsbOVUbrp1_Q3fBZL_IhUllKljqobt6StXuld_E_xMJBMU66Qa5UzHJ4JYWSHEFAcGpsxJ7rvY19YcgLPK0UrHx/s1600/plate.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiByn8jBTT_bB1TMttGp_3DpZRXU2tKd-GA3UpRr1h3ccu70EYwN6TW1DsbOVUbrp1_Q3fBZL_IhUllKljqobt6StXuld_E_xMJBMU66Qa5UzHJ4JYWSHEFAcGpsxJ7rvY19YcgLPK0UrHx/s1600/plate.jpg" height="248" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">In the early 21st century humankind took more photographs of plates of food than anything else (except cats). This was symptomatic of a sociality preoccupied with food. Humans were either overweight or underweight or simply bouncing between the two. Also there was a section of society (mostly young males) who photographed food once it had been processed by their digestive systems. The exact reason for this is still unknown.</span></div>
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<b style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 0px;">6. They loved to share.</b></h2>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Humankind loved to share their lives with everyone. They wanted they world to know that they were eating a sandwich. Or that how much weight they’d lost. Or endless dull photographs of their children. The world seemed to be obsessed with documenting and sharing everything. While a scarce number of photographs were taken on the moon, millions of photographs were taken in bathroom mirrors. In fact, they were so wrapped up with photographing and documenting their lives often humans never actually saw the concerts, events, weddings and funerals that they attended. Unless it was via some blurry footage that appeared on their social media pages a few days later. They were so busy sharing their lives with others that they forgot to enjoy it themselves. </span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 0px;">7. In order to become a musician you needed to have musical talent.</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span></b></h2>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Believe it or not there was once a time when musicians could actually read music, they could play instruments, they sang without the aid of autotune and they wrote their own songs. They didn’t need a corporation behind them and they didn’t even need to be attractive. Good songs, performed well was all they needed. They didn’t need the sponsorship of a soft drink or to appeal to twelve-year-old girls. Once upon a time musicians were driven, simply, by the desire to make music. Also, incredibly, people used to actually pay to buy this music. </span></div>
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<b style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 0px;">8. People used to vote.</b></h2>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhytPvqOZJKZAZfSdbtlRjS7kGCvDMJOANAfI2qhFvSTcWO_0TdLWNL7Mw7E1dHCSasb13Amd0HDbBSdQHDAi18yYCnrYThM9WKcqGJTEhBrye_KelfpQFi577DKhTVeAKnlfigzUuFYk__/s1600/Kevin+Spacey.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhytPvqOZJKZAZfSdbtlRjS7kGCvDMJOANAfI2qhFvSTcWO_0TdLWNL7Mw7E1dHCSasb13Amd0HDbBSdQHDAi18yYCnrYThM9WKcqGJTEhBrye_KelfpQFi577DKhTVeAKnlfigzUuFYk__/s1600/Kevin+Spacey.jpg" height="167" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Before the world became so utterly disillusioned with politicians, people actually believed that voting made a difference. They discussed politics and had views. However they simply threw away a right that hundreds of thousands of people before them had fought and died for. They refused to believe they could make a difference because a handful of half-witted celebrities told them so. This paved the way for our current kind and benevolent overlords. All hail the corporations and their venerable CEOs! </span></div>
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<b style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 0px;">9. People believed that posting a picture or sharing a link was the same as donating money. </b></h2>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRBTHZpCXeTTqMT8v7-HxMdWB5F14XUXSm7Pef1e6CIhQdXPu-oEzcet-55RuWQ3i6YTfrjAoUuI-Nj1Bdf0Mep9Uw0g8CeZFe_gpw9wdKwzHD_34btN5qf5ydqLh0MRitLhhqayM4PCYu/s1600/donate.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRBTHZpCXeTTqMT8v7-HxMdWB5F14XUXSm7Pef1e6CIhQdXPu-oEzcet-55RuWQ3i6YTfrjAoUuI-Nj1Bdf0Mep9Uw0g8CeZFe_gpw9wdKwzHD_34btN5qf5ydqLh0MRitLhhqayM4PCYu/s1600/donate.jpg" height="255" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Hard to believe we know. Millions of people believed that posting a photograph of themselves was the same as actually opening their wallet and giving money to a charity. It gave them a form of satisfaction and it made it look as if they were doing something when it reality they were nothing at all. They enjoyed the hollow illusion of feeling like they were helping. This is probably why now, in the future, we have no tigers and cancer is still a major problem. </span></div>
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<b style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 0px;">10. People believed anything. </b></h2>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHhirGBusqstL35yLSl6tflJgf4NWUwzgkqYTOyEsFimNTylmEyFWXgKtQenFD8IQTQz9fTJv_knMExUHbD0C-2kmEpNJQBYXyf2_0aFvE2v3T9o_dPe4VvSykhkxjT_hT79fJudTjzXJF/s1600/Anything.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHhirGBusqstL35yLSl6tflJgf4NWUwzgkqYTOyEsFimNTylmEyFWXgKtQenFD8IQTQz9fTJv_knMExUHbD0C-2kmEpNJQBYXyf2_0aFvE2v3T9o_dPe4VvSykhkxjT_hT79fJudTjzXJF/s1600/Anything.jpg" height="235" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">It’s true, in the past any information that appeared on line - no matter how preposterous - would be held up as fact. Reading something on line immediately made it real and people would quickly start evangelizing about it. Vaccinations cause childhood obesity. A nuclear bomb went missing in the 1980s and no one ever found it. The voice of Bart Simpson is a girl. Staring at a cat will cure restless leg syndrome. There’s going to be a Jar-Jar Binks spinoff movie. They believe it and, by god, they shared it. </span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8981599182030983196.post-4703282545998795192014-02-06T18:48:00.000-08:002014-02-06T18:48:06.885-08:00Free Holiday you say?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsdI3eaK-3V85socbFNx1Crq1h-CCjjYapMClqSqiGvGNUktEv5m5bBY8XDd4WrlxRl_tsaKLk9L-cylsHfE5juVzR5vyV1aJklgUKPC2vFB323lsY27U-S2Bf77XXH4-90uR6vzmriIff/s1600/dfp_500telephone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsdI3eaK-3V85socbFNx1Crq1h-CCjjYapMClqSqiGvGNUktEv5m5bBY8XDd4WrlxRl_tsaKLk9L-cylsHfE5juVzR5vyV1aJklgUKPC2vFB323lsY27U-S2Bf77XXH4-90uR6vzmriIff/s1600/dfp_500telephone.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I just had a random call offering a "free holiday" I told the dude with the American accent that the person they were calling was in hospital fighting to stay alive. I got all excited and told them that the "free trip" was something to live for. Where could I pick up the tickets? I don't believe it the prick still kept trying to sell me on their bogus offer. Then I told him this wonderful offer was making me think twice about turning off the life support. Where could I pick up the tickets? He still kept up the hard sell. I told him I was also dying and this was a shining light in a year of darkness. He still kept up the sell. Then I explained that our kiwifruit farm had been destroyed in the recent earthquake. And that our dog had contracted feline AIDS. I explained that this win felt like a turning point. He still kept it up. Then I pretended to put him on hold. When I got back to him I said the police were at my door and had discovered my meth lab. I asked if I could call him back and he asked when he could call me back! I pretended to ask the police when would be a convenient time and reported back to say I was going to be in prison for a very, very long time. Finally, the guy gave up.</span></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8981599182030983196.post-62260955805658782602014-01-28T15:18:00.001-08:002014-01-28T15:18:51.380-08:00A Dishonorable Man<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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So recently I received this message on my Facebook account. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZSdr4YwEAFWdOi1ajWbXpoWkTdlVVvJ54_w_wy_GUBpMS2dA4-5rSpqEnR3jByneXwf_3XXwkFFa_4ClD_8-NuPwNlzzFnesxPR0eZvbq3nxxMDqY88V979hL9dbwBWBIxAB5YdYAJc9N/s1600/Kozah+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZSdr4YwEAFWdOi1ajWbXpoWkTdlVVvJ54_w_wy_GUBpMS2dA4-5rSpqEnR3jByneXwf_3XXwkFFa_4ClD_8-NuPwNlzzFnesxPR0eZvbq3nxxMDqY88V979hL9dbwBWBIxAB5YdYAJc9N/s1600/Kozah+1.jpg" height="336" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">I'm on Facebook as Nicholas Finlay Thurston Ward. It was the early days of bookface and it told me to input my whole name I really didn't know how to change. It seems that Mr Kozah didn't look at my whole name and assumed my last name was Finlay. No worries because, as I was to discover, Mr Zozah, Attorney at Law, wasn't a man who paid a great deal of attention to the details. </span><br />
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So I set up a separate Gmail account got started with my correspondence with Mr Kozah.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSY5tEDe9TZ2xeesfG-M1gFRvvtzpSCuKDNUv70OoRTWhYe3tnuoyire1u832F2mZ1MlAbX5WCvgmoeNp103AGQNgFJu52rbNuXg4eeuz4SiDLCzudMn0bxC-4f01u1SgtcyHR6OQ2ClTB/s1600/Kozah+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSY5tEDe9TZ2xeesfG-M1gFRvvtzpSCuKDNUv70OoRTWhYe3tnuoyire1u832F2mZ1MlAbX5WCvgmoeNp103AGQNgFJu52rbNuXg4eeuz4SiDLCzudMn0bxC-4f01u1SgtcyHR6OQ2ClTB/s1600/Kozah+2.jpg" height="400" width="373" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU4CboHtYnw8UmRlOH9ca2ctEpH-Qz5dq6eoFzuJXx_FPNOs5Rk-PUQKB_6-XA9QsG4iANWxzXb87qQUiKfPZSwrIdqByDLEaddjdNBHQgponuQDt8Jla-K8KZJgrwhHz0j31__4OICc8K/s1600/Kozah+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU4CboHtYnw8UmRlOH9ca2ctEpH-Qz5dq6eoFzuJXx_FPNOs5Rk-PUQKB_6-XA9QsG4iANWxzXb87qQUiKfPZSwrIdqByDLEaddjdNBHQgponuQDt8Jla-K8KZJgrwhHz0j31__4OICc8K/s1600/Kozah+3.jpg" height="400" width="365" /></a></div>
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Seems legit. Although I'm not sure what a western union transfer has to do with using my account to access the late Mr Finlay's unclaimed millions. Still let's go with it. However if Mr Kozah thought he was going to have an easy ride he was sadly mistaken. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYHcDYSRPwz0ItSJTA_v1-bqtKPxKRPz283cSRXM-eRCo4yvSSbS8yQ5pLtjAwl7vwTCA8HvGb_njAsNKqeEWBex6M5TmJ9MXnug_EhI7S14oCCyxfAos_jXODzLWu-FzBJcPE5WgWVhF2/s1600/Kozah+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYHcDYSRPwz0ItSJTA_v1-bqtKPxKRPz283cSRXM-eRCo4yvSSbS8yQ5pLtjAwl7vwTCA8HvGb_njAsNKqeEWBex6M5TmJ9MXnug_EhI7S14oCCyxfAos_jXODzLWu-FzBJcPE5WgWVhF2/s1600/Kozah+4.jpg" height="370" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7VPSEDAe_KSj90XaarF8A_YRe0VF6S0TiuNW_3bc3dcr1SPMneiiQVb5BqbsiY19LiItLvVd83Hit67S98lR22t1iXYC_8nyF7T2Cq2cuVaAyh9aEPp_8oAEi2IfguRJFWHJY7yWmME9P/s1600/Kozah+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7VPSEDAe_KSj90XaarF8A_YRe0VF6S0TiuNW_3bc3dcr1SPMneiiQVb5BqbsiY19LiItLvVd83Hit67S98lR22t1iXYC_8nyF7T2Cq2cuVaAyh9aEPp_8oAEi2IfguRJFWHJY7yWmME9P/s1600/Kozah+5.jpg" height="293" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuveF-2J0k4JpAPq6E_K-ZO2APm21Te3Shp7IjySUxH_0KqEVwRmW_ETebpSQwA2pVTmq_Dtql33Z8vQI-nl2-xtJOZXWCMYYD17os_a-HR7-EYZ92Gjqunxxhn6lwIF9sKTxX-VjQD67y/s1600/Kozah+6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuveF-2J0k4JpAPq6E_K-ZO2APm21Te3Shp7IjySUxH_0KqEVwRmW_ETebpSQwA2pVTmq_Dtql33Z8vQI-nl2-xtJOZXWCMYYD17os_a-HR7-EYZ92Gjqunxxhn6lwIF9sKTxX-VjQD67y/s1600/Kozah+6.jpg" height="311" width="400" /></a></div>
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Mr Kojak seemed unflustered by my illegal plutonium importing. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCa5PIJO2YYB73lSY_WbebQ-9hIbFff1akW_QB1TA2ap1hYvFspH2oIO9bxOlv_DLC5hg91c7z2jsxGVviQhjl0stTOBlmrRSzEdSXIWXe71sIMF560G5K6ZQr2XSb8h85zO6Yu3j2bHET/s1600/Kozah+7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCa5PIJO2YYB73lSY_WbebQ-9hIbFff1akW_QB1TA2ap1hYvFspH2oIO9bxOlv_DLC5hg91c7z2jsxGVviQhjl0stTOBlmrRSzEdSXIWXe71sIMF560G5K6ZQr2XSb8h85zO6Yu3j2bHET/s1600/Kozah+7.jpg" height="372" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDVtRqz0A4MBEaWIS8kirVgyJM0xvvxqO2J-xNL7M7F0XmkG1OwNbxI5XbhwuiNb1sefYrAR8ZF1Rp_-j1Jq3okgZnLQg7EJahep1ZShcFxxlUVUg4kzJkuO0EyIw7fWKX2ElMN1JoSSCo/s1600/Kozah+8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDVtRqz0A4MBEaWIS8kirVgyJM0xvvxqO2J-xNL7M7F0XmkG1OwNbxI5XbhwuiNb1sefYrAR8ZF1Rp_-j1Jq3okgZnLQg7EJahep1ZShcFxxlUVUg4kzJkuO0EyIw7fWKX2ElMN1JoSSCo/s1600/Kozah+8.jpg" height="335" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjELqPYEV1e0pCfeGo1V0hZnMvqvQuIN6ksT2P9K-JITJAH9z6NhVmm7WslW8RsFL3LeiWdBOcLe4GXaOL9Z3b0IjXN_R7rbsRFTtcW9_NoFmztOWq9bYuVAKYKSrt21GihKwgt12nbkVe3/s1600/Kozah+9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjELqPYEV1e0pCfeGo1V0hZnMvqvQuIN6ksT2P9K-JITJAH9z6NhVmm7WslW8RsFL3LeiWdBOcLe4GXaOL9Z3b0IjXN_R7rbsRFTtcW9_NoFmztOWq9bYuVAKYKSrt21GihKwgt12nbkVe3/s1600/Kozah+9.jpg" height="250" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2N4OViBbva0PqcUAHNqLl_cXFEj4FEyUaUWfBqVwGP_aqDswhMmeREt7riuFXFau0UTLT6yaFkKUQBxbpE3XqaPXl9KFKRc-M1nfNAFIJgfW9OUFigYobHsawk_WVT42J-MfiQLiDfBk_/s1600/Kozah+10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2N4OViBbva0PqcUAHNqLl_cXFEj4FEyUaUWfBqVwGP_aqDswhMmeREt7riuFXFau0UTLT6yaFkKUQBxbpE3XqaPXl9KFKRc-M1nfNAFIJgfW9OUFigYobHsawk_WVT42J-MfiQLiDfBk_/s1600/Kozah+10.jpg" height="308" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgotyyu5AfiUUw1VInfjbAKzqyWwfIWxttD5l-MIsKcpQLpBNia8LSpAyGZDBHznCS9x2U3rrANUuE56PN9WrirpobtphhFPza8U1gtVIpZtXNUnbmBspfhZm0XBvLtgn4Z4ghhynra4INh/s1600/Kozah+11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgotyyu5AfiUUw1VInfjbAKzqyWwfIWxttD5l-MIsKcpQLpBNia8LSpAyGZDBHznCS9x2U3rrANUuE56PN9WrirpobtphhFPza8U1gtVIpZtXNUnbmBspfhZm0XBvLtgn4Z4ghhynra4INh/s1600/Kozah+11.jpg" height="400" width="333" /></a></div>
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I set up a dodgy online account to use with this under the name of Nicholas Finlay. Again totally unconnected to anything that could come back to the real me.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC2V4JLsm_HAYm4L-le_ylBfJbd4HUjwt5IiynC9jwd7xfMAv6PBToLdO2wVudkrgW9OP0UVx9KKxqZSsFSUk3PIoWeaxQJOfE8y7OCgnRcrfdJNkZgFkwltsQv3vieBZXkHnl8Gq-dojX/s1600/Kozah+12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC2V4JLsm_HAYm4L-le_ylBfJbd4HUjwt5IiynC9jwd7xfMAv6PBToLdO2wVudkrgW9OP0UVx9KKxqZSsFSUk3PIoWeaxQJOfE8y7OCgnRcrfdJNkZgFkwltsQv3vieBZXkHnl8Gq-dojX/s1600/Kozah+12.jpg" height="233" width="400" /></a></div>
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They fell for it!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNtvp1MM9K9ZwetWhzCPa7IrBw0ejl0zGeMhdvbPmClsKTcBA25hAmwlA2eLFILW3PWeU8uKgbG77XT4xLB8uLpHzNXtykERwlxbH7SBvE5gYOxGIcZJGGr97ZlPrlXn5Aur9BY1VvP9eu/s1600/Kozah+13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNtvp1MM9K9ZwetWhzCPa7IrBw0ejl0zGeMhdvbPmClsKTcBA25hAmwlA2eLFILW3PWeU8uKgbG77XT4xLB8uLpHzNXtykERwlxbH7SBvE5gYOxGIcZJGGr97ZlPrlXn5Aur9BY1VvP9eu/s1600/Kozah+13.jpg" height="277" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcwhvRT8BuKI4D_kdoRpO24ZHxVeC1y1BGRF20k9dY7LexHo92pu-Ln1LwIxCi9n6I6wUDXsCWeP1cRI-c8q2v2afg4HPqExpZyqU1PxXefPKajkJ9S5tTXuE9HHDG694O0KAXSfMQUiz1/s1600/Kozah+14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcwhvRT8BuKI4D_kdoRpO24ZHxVeC1y1BGRF20k9dY7LexHo92pu-Ln1LwIxCi9n6I6wUDXsCWeP1cRI-c8q2v2afg4HPqExpZyqU1PxXefPKajkJ9S5tTXuE9HHDG694O0KAXSfMQUiz1/s1600/Kozah+14.jpg" height="226" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj46sql6muzXfLk13-ZDtTpg5YWQDmbc-LWJPwLfHNekhyjhGdjf21ZD4cb_BdeVOM77zu8-phqi3PXYI-KsdVf7Md5u4CVjE0VvcAtG5yiZ25r_kQaIVmY6mZMRdDVK_Ne5Kzm2fOxFB61/s1600/Kozah+15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj46sql6muzXfLk13-ZDtTpg5YWQDmbc-LWJPwLfHNekhyjhGdjf21ZD4cb_BdeVOM77zu8-phqi3PXYI-KsdVf7Md5u4CVjE0VvcAtG5yiZ25r_kQaIVmY6mZMRdDVK_Ne5Kzm2fOxFB61/s1600/Kozah+15.jpg" height="301" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgnORhg-xc7AZBH3HXuS9WP-hrDsCzi9Dr3s3icjqUIc4P0_gpMNFR_eHCrAvviLN0lTlU0QHrgt7EGxqW1QZ4kKNAahuSmalZ_KnGHZLiQQxBxagniBgmdRAgoE_uUkCrQlxHD-3-WeZS/s1600/Kozah+16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgnORhg-xc7AZBH3HXuS9WP-hrDsCzi9Dr3s3icjqUIc4P0_gpMNFR_eHCrAvviLN0lTlU0QHrgt7EGxqW1QZ4kKNAahuSmalZ_KnGHZLiQQxBxagniBgmdRAgoE_uUkCrQlxHD-3-WeZS/s1600/Kozah+16.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMoJnqn3DSW8Ro-rrg4l1K4KBPJHOCaHV7O9kWqCAKNgJZS1ttMC-KoT2vudcbo9wvAUu0hggU1u88lZR5YUQ4xNNIMMvW6F2vKMhjnLZzf1jsFI4e6U5SRfmHaq_mF_XPAJuJu0RBzl2O/s1600/Kozah+17.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMoJnqn3DSW8Ro-rrg4l1K4KBPJHOCaHV7O9kWqCAKNgJZS1ttMC-KoT2vudcbo9wvAUu0hggU1u88lZR5YUQ4xNNIMMvW6F2vKMhjnLZzf1jsFI4e6U5SRfmHaq_mF_XPAJuJu0RBzl2O/s1600/Kozah+17.jpg" height="271" width="400" /></a></div>
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And so ends my dealings with Mr Kozah. Sadly his email seems to have been disabled. I do hope he's okay. I'm donating his money to the RSPCA you'll be happy to hear. </div>
</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8981599182030983196.post-50494034222834826032013-08-20T17:42:00.000-07:002013-08-20T17:42:27.084-07:00Sometimes stories run us down in the street. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhitPIX2i76RygRD9bcE3YWfIA6O09912rdYFM-bwhU7pHXQeCvV5eJHNO3S6JiZATQ9DmwUJlB09midZrbSsAee5IZqcV5iqDxfUPKRts5coXjdTlGkg_6jBXqfWZc4-2AGAfo_Y0TaaY5/s1600/auto-wreck-in-washington-d.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="254" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhitPIX2i76RygRD9bcE3YWfIA6O09912rdYFM-bwhU7pHXQeCvV5eJHNO3S6JiZATQ9DmwUJlB09midZrbSsAee5IZqcV5iqDxfUPKRts5coXjdTlGkg_6jBXqfWZc4-2AGAfo_Y0TaaY5/s320/auto-wreck-in-washington-d.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
I happened onto this photo on the inter web. I can't remember where. It was from a series of old black and white photographs that had been beautifully and lovingly colorized buy some clever artist.<br />
<br />
Chances are the people in this picture are long since dust but look at their faces and their expressions. I especially like the way they're all looking at the camera. At us. With such casual detachment. Even the driver.<br />
<br />
There's a story in here somewhere I know it. I just have to find it. As a writer this is something that happens to us time after time. If we go looking for stories they will hide from us. If we relax and open our minds they will, instead, seek us out.<br />
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8981599182030983196.post-30873355894821696882013-07-26T22:17:00.000-07:002013-07-26T22:17:10.471-07:00Conversations I have while I'm driving...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh82XxEdqmtl9a5I96GV7MLbQ9X7v9-LVQUFYktiz-q4kaAEToV94FDDEy2qcR84mvLXtjffylAR1NqnR0sgK1-_Y94Mw8ceg9ylHS8zbYt-OT576xnPQ0b_nRY2Tzjii3f47Lfqfg_Kb-T/s1600/jerk-pic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh82XxEdqmtl9a5I96GV7MLbQ9X7v9-LVQUFYktiz-q4kaAEToV94FDDEy2qcR84mvLXtjffylAR1NqnR0sgK1-_Y94Mw8ceg9ylHS8zbYt-OT576xnPQ0b_nRY2Tzjii3f47Lfqfg_Kb-T/s320/jerk-pic.jpg" width="222" /></a></div>
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When I'm driving I often find myself having conversations with other drivers. they can't hear me but it helps me cope with a huge numbers of pinheads out there who have, by some administrative error, a drivers license.<br />
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I thought I'd take this moment to share some of the one-sided conversations I have.<br />
<br />
<i>"Oh you accelerated and got to the red light before me. Shall we just wait here for the next five minutes?"</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"You're overtaking me on the inside? I'm sorry I'm not going to let you in. I know this makes you angry but it pleases me."</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"You're blocking the way to two petrol pumps while you buy cigarettes. That's just delightful."</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"The lights turned red so you immediately hit the horn? I'm not in a hurry so I'll just take my time shall I?"</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"You're driving right up my arse? That's my cue to slow down to a crawl."</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"I'm guessing you don't know where you're going? Weaving back and forth around the road and braking inexplicably is really putting you in my good books."</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"In my country we have certain crazy customs around driving. Maybe you should look them up."</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"Look at you you got one car in front while we're stuck in rush hour traffic. Well done."</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"Reversing out into traffic without looking? How's that working out for you?"</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"Oh well I guess your organs will keep someone worthwhile alive in the long run."</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"Congratulations you must be so proud."</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"Good driving!" </i><br />
<br />
</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8981599182030983196.post-75558308749153853172013-07-11T01:52:00.000-07:002013-07-11T03:30:17.106-07:00The demon printer has met its demise...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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So the chap came from TVNZ to film it. It was my idea that Dad could run over it in his 1915 model T. It seemed fitting to despatch the evil printer by destroying it with something that is almost 100 years old and still works. Given the printer is over 2 years old and NEVER worked. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg6Rk6i_ZfsJ7fhMsgz51C4CngfoQeMzNQg63vRufP0RBTG3EjbX_VeYChG-5w-jiIM4ab4tOBxiZGC5aqwlsj6d76L1yi1APX2qFqugceXNT4yzstCpUQpKbetEl0_MrAux3clvaGWCuI/s1600/P1030362.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg6Rk6i_ZfsJ7fhMsgz51C4CngfoQeMzNQg63vRufP0RBTG3EjbX_VeYChG-5w-jiIM4ab4tOBxiZGC5aqwlsj6d76L1yi1APX2qFqugceXNT4yzstCpUQpKbetEl0_MrAux3clvaGWCuI/s320/P1030362.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRqYn3-ZVSkpdL-VvrA_K-GOgsKgp6VMmtCM-5J4mVHRU-Kb0tYItr-q0H9168lb60ibZ440tLj6E2FmGdM2WGGA-TywtjvXH1Omizp3LbWvBZwh5Z14A2mi2VX7cHY367y6o8iO6i4z0U/s1600/P1030364.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRqYn3-ZVSkpdL-VvrA_K-GOgsKgp6VMmtCM-5J4mVHRU-Kb0tYItr-q0H9168lb60ibZ440tLj6E2FmGdM2WGGA-TywtjvXH1Omizp3LbWvBZwh5Z14A2mi2VX7cHY367y6o8iO6i4z0U/s320/P1030364.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
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Dad had the bright idea of pulling it to bits with chains. So we rigged it up and it worked a treat. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLVcJW4Y7oocObY1B3yGP_I1HfVnjhFbjElxrpMhrbSOqYorolC0pGjyxty4sFKfHugKn3z1PC5FCtjYP6IDnkG9Ur1YCDEFzdlqPdOuXJBc74nN4rFdg9dIXgjS_Vqnws9x8OxLDWJen7/s1600/P1030375.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLVcJW4Y7oocObY1B3yGP_I1HfVnjhFbjElxrpMhrbSOqYorolC0pGjyxty4sFKfHugKn3z1PC5FCtjYP6IDnkG9Ur1YCDEFzdlqPdOuXJBc74nN4rFdg9dIXgjS_Vqnws9x8OxLDWJen7/s320/P1030375.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLLvlBi9dXFbMP5E33CLcRaA0K05fkRm4YWSYOAcB4g6KyFOR3zc0sqnxLm5d_DMHIuiqIlGFsanzU_VU50lnC17ODAGM2YN7l5dZ3xDzrzfHXSNUBB6s4hCIUYVjmkoxIlQ955UYcZ-ps/s1600/P1030377.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLLvlBi9dXFbMP5E33CLcRaA0K05fkRm4YWSYOAcB4g6KyFOR3zc0sqnxLm5d_DMHIuiqIlGFsanzU_VU50lnC17ODAGM2YN7l5dZ3xDzrzfHXSNUBB6s4hCIUYVjmkoxIlQ955UYcZ-ps/s320/P1030377.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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But I did have to finish it off with a pick axe. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCegyXn9DR7Tm_BCCl8O2XBlbVcMr1YUK5GtLdLV8rgaNFbInc_OQxgDfehN1Aa1V1SLWoNYhs6qjVSZQ3DbNawdKT46XeqspJViphtAI4ilrgfHop5Z3re9m3QxQgKlmlN3EIMGdS4sR-/s1600/P1030370.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCegyXn9DR7Tm_BCCl8O2XBlbVcMr1YUK5GtLdLV8rgaNFbInc_OQxgDfehN1Aa1V1SLWoNYhs6qjVSZQ3DbNawdKT46XeqspJViphtAI4ilrgfHop5Z3re9m3QxQgKlmlN3EIMGdS4sR-/s320/P1030370.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYMaKM1HbLo87OXFeoudt3LGwPnQYenQecsn6sQTFqmWZpWsnJhnnjhrPcV68CwRHHD_s1EuDxeug0wwvtICfcBbRgUtOmrRexrh8bI85LWHA2iYnUmwCDRwjdWtd_z_nntmHyleiboQvM/s1600/P1030371.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYMaKM1HbLo87OXFeoudt3LGwPnQYenQecsn6sQTFqmWZpWsnJhnnjhrPcV68CwRHHD_s1EuDxeug0wwvtICfcBbRgUtOmrRexrh8bI85LWHA2iYnUmwCDRwjdWtd_z_nntmHyleiboQvM/s320/P1030371.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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This is a picture of a very happy man...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSX-tXJO80i-MH8mYjoBaP_KLYPlbyeQ__B0b39bgw5L0DpTnhE5YyRoRgMPjVQS8aOmXQZct4SaZNeCbjz7NEg4SzeUpVAtKnOQ8lCt65_5iIUryhEliwGZ838QW6KpQ7ZLhcyVgpDrXU/s1600/P1030373.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSX-tXJO80i-MH8mYjoBaP_KLYPlbyeQ__B0b39bgw5L0DpTnhE5YyRoRgMPjVQS8aOmXQZct4SaZNeCbjz7NEg4SzeUpVAtKnOQ8lCt65_5iIUryhEliwGZ838QW6KpQ7ZLhcyVgpDrXU/s320/P1030373.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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So it's all over the demonic printer is gone and the public got what they wanted.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7OpAHp4kQfpUNuhnXBAYTleEQYXYkkVvjx9H_76zNpZ_VpDrHQ1oA3bjOcyxmxddacfWeQEUYVvLoq93Ak5DPBI5KT6cA6cfXhRMwPgPQRWdGnjR9jITOvTADDbXz_v-9DqoNTga01MGt/s1600/IMG_0223.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7OpAHp4kQfpUNuhnXBAYTleEQYXYkkVvjx9H_76zNpZ_VpDrHQ1oA3bjOcyxmxddacfWeQEUYVvLoq93Ak5DPBI5KT6cA6cfXhRMwPgPQRWdGnjR9jITOvTADDbXz_v-9DqoNTga01MGt/s320/IMG_0223.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I was finally over. </div>
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Or so I thought...</div>
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After the show screened I was sitting at home on my own and there was a knock at the door. </div>
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When I opened it there was no one there but this was sitting on my doorstep.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjzc_HsbtTviKSUZ9KQU9AKvi263w1K9AiEXRUqtWMtQMS_GvbDDo7Vk4n8y5QOf_gKXEP0UPpwXFOpct_ouFV9kKdPQYYYPoTitbQHqSYvHEgHU_M3MzAYJgp0tuOg2kAH6iGKYqA13gF/s1600/IMG_0230.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjzc_HsbtTviKSUZ9KQU9AKvi263w1K9AiEXRUqtWMtQMS_GvbDDo7Vk4n8y5QOf_gKXEP0UPpwXFOpct_ouFV9kKdPQYYYPoTitbQHqSYvHEgHU_M3MzAYJgp0tuOg2kAH6iGKYqA13gF/s320/IMG_0230.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Well played whoever did this. Well played.</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8981599182030983196.post-4740328202684467562013-07-09T19:49:00.001-07:002013-07-09T21:39:18.893-07:00And it's over...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
My out of control auction for a demon printer that got over a million views is now over.<br />
<br />
And - YESSSS - the winning bidder wants it destroyed.<br />
<br />
We'll be on SEVEN SHARP tomorrow night. Keep watching.<br />
<br />
The saddest thing is I didn't get to say goodbye. Thanks you we had fun.<br />
<br />
Stay gold. </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8981599182030983196.post-35225901065015074282013-07-08T16:43:00.001-07:002013-07-08T21:34:27.068-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Hello new visitors,<br />
<br />
I'm hoping that some of you have come to visit due to the madness that is my printer auction. For those of you new the story of the demonic printer you can get a rundown by visiting this link:<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.listener.co.nz/commentary/the-internaut/man-versus-printer-an-epic-hilarious-trademe-post/">http://www.listener.co.nz/commentary/the-internaut/man-versus-printer-an-epic-hilarious-trademe-post/</a><br />
<br />
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Yep I'm a man with way too much time on my hands and those of you that know me well will be aware that I like to amuse myself with various projects. Be it <a href="http://woodofkings.blogspot.co.nz/2012/06/how-i-became-internet-phenomenon-and.html">traveling in time</a>, <a href="http://woodofkings.blogspot.co.nz/2010/10/flight-of-penguin.html">buying hubcaps</a>, <a href="http://woodofkings.blogspot.co.nz/2011/02/fahrenheit-451.html" target="_blank">burning books</a>, <a href="http://woodofkings.blogspot.co.nz/2010/08/check-out-my-junk.html" target="_blank">weighting junk mail</a>, photographing <a href="http://woodofkings.blogspot.co.nz/2011/02/its-about-life-love-and-always-having.html" target="_blank">abandoned couches</a>, recording my <a href="http://woodofkings.blogspot.co.nz/2011/03/come-take-walk-with-me.html" target="_blank">drunken travels</a> and, of course, <a href="http://woodofkings.blogspot.co.nz/2013/07/long-time-no-post.html">making clocks</a>. Click on any of these words to find out the story behind these exploits.<br />
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Anyway welcome to my new friends. I will keep you updated on the fate of the <a href="http://www.trademe.co.nz/Browse/Listing.aspx?id=611109951">Demonic Printer</a> here and you can see how my clocks are progressing. At some stage I'm going to have to start selling them I guess.<br />
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Stay gold,<br />
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Nick.<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8981599182030983196.post-50327455300218935892013-07-08T16:22:00.001-07:002013-07-08T16:22:40.754-07:00Long Time No Post<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Sorry folks life got in the way. Recently things have gone crazy and I think I'm going to get a lot more foot traffic to this blog soon. So in preparation here's some pictures of some of the stuff I've been working on recently...<br />
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A Maori meeting house cuckoo clock. A little Tui pops out.</div>
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And a little of video...<br />
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<object width="320" height="266" class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://i1.ytimg.com/vi/sRaC_cHWW0U/0.jpg"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/sRaC_cHWW0U?version=3&f=user_uploads&c=google-webdrive-0&app=youtube_gdata" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><embed width="320" height="266" src="http://www.youtube.com/v/sRaC_cHWW0U?version=3&f=user_uploads&c=google-webdrive-0&app=youtube_gdata" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8981599182030983196.post-14841272499069941422012-10-23T00:34:00.000-07:002012-10-23T00:34:18.832-07:00Still Making Time<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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So, finally, I've finished another clock and this baby is special because this is the first custom clock mechanism I ever constructed. It's taken me this long to teach myself all the skills to build the rest of the clock...<br />
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Here's my post about building the mechanism here -<a href="http://woodofkings.blogspot.co.nz/2010/11/flipping-cuckoo.html"> FLIPPING CUCKOO</a>.<br />
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I built the mechanism, wired it, designed it, painted it and, well, did everything.<br />
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I wanted this one to be a little bit special because it was the first so while all the other Wood of Kings clocks have been black so far this baby is white. What's more it features a new header I've molded - an owl. And I've also used the new winged skull I designed. And the Wood of Kings logo that I designed using Inkscape and had laser cut by the fine people at Ponoko.<br />
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I'm so proud of this chronometer and it gives me huge pleasure to share the finished product with you.<br />
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"Time is but the stream I go a-fishing in."</div>
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-Henry David Thoreau.</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8981599182030983196.post-55145991675746107922012-10-16T21:11:00.001-07:002012-10-16T21:13:27.291-07:00Object of Desire<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'll be honest with you I've been coveting this for a long time and I finally decided to bite the bullet and order one. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Josh Harker for those of you that don't know of him is a very talented man.This <span style="line-height: 21px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">Chicago-based artist</span><span style="line-height: 21px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> launched a Kickstarter project</span><span style="line-height: 21px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> to fund the creation of his 3D-printed ornate skulls - going against the conventional route of selling via a gallery. </span><span style="line-height: 20px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">This filigree skull began life as an automatic drawing by Josh, whose illustrations are so complex that he didn’t think he could ever render them into sculptures. Then he discovered 3D polymer printing and, voilà, a high-tech object that looks like a medieval memento mori was born. Sized to nestle in your palm, it’s such an intriguing piece that it is - to date - the most-funded art project to ever appear on Kickstarter. And I freaking LOVE it! </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 20px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">Today mine arrived in the post so I'd like to share the joy I had of unwrapping this true object of beauty. It warms my heart to know there are artists out there embracing technology and producing art that is within the reach of common mud-dwellers like yours </span><span style="line-height: 20px;">truly. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Isn't it gorgeous?</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8CXYkKlVCOtq0GYyMe4_89YqaToldB-V_SIgzLsw-X77_gZuZl2J7NItguuwMLFKMI7aNCEcJXYwHF1WB1S3i9Zkunv5_H05LR30tCwmyulH9c4b3mz43yvobvXpdFymcKv0bSfMymSTf/s1600/Josh+Harker+Logo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8CXYkKlVCOtq0GYyMe4_89YqaToldB-V_SIgzLsw-X77_gZuZl2J7NItguuwMLFKMI7aNCEcJXYwHF1WB1S3i9Zkunv5_H05LR30tCwmyulH9c4b3mz43yvobvXpdFymcKv0bSfMymSTf/s320/Josh+Harker+Logo.jpg" width="298" /></a></div>
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You can visit Josh Harker's webpage by clicking <span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.joshharker.com/">HERE</a></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8981599182030983196.post-25496556348041228952012-09-30T19:22:00.000-07:002012-09-30T19:22:21.652-07:00Welcome Back<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggcCmdarLmBvO-pCKjdDUcaA6vXi6tN0rCrjDm56AQX9X5aWu5rQsY1vGs229SzH10Bmon-cpR7wv5lfW6PsAZy5VYTlr3SJvtt6unsaf3aLJRdH9kTaVYbF5pP4lQZNc7ZJaLgvFcHNko/s1600/RIP+REGGIE.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggcCmdarLmBvO-pCKjdDUcaA6vXi6tN0rCrjDm56AQX9X5aWu5rQsY1vGs229SzH10Bmon-cpR7wv5lfW6PsAZy5VYTlr3SJvtt6unsaf3aLJRdH9kTaVYbF5pP4lQZNc7ZJaLgvFcHNko/s400/RIP+REGGIE.jpg" width="282" /></a></div>
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Hello All,</div>
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Welcome back to the Wood of Kings. I've been a bit busy lately taking care of a <a href="https://www.facebook.com/TheMouseFromTheRidges?ref=hl">theatrical mouse</a> but exciting things are still happening here in the Wood. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhienjPzTPBs9VOIWyJiRmbsUJ_xJqCAN3a7l1TJbr6gHqPL8swhplyps8aWtMp7WfUEx-YJKQMYchpFoCvP6XUJtbiHwD-0MTa2nOIJu8opTot2-FIAvKyRA7srglHu4zqKGYh3Sk0kcsZ/s1600/Sepia+Meter+Clock+%2528side%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhienjPzTPBs9VOIWyJiRmbsUJ_xJqCAN3a7l1TJbr6gHqPL8swhplyps8aWtMp7WfUEx-YJKQMYchpFoCvP6XUJtbiHwD-0MTa2nOIJu8opTot2-FIAvKyRA7srglHu4zqKGYh3Sk0kcsZ/s320/Sepia+Meter+Clock+%2528side%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I've been making some more castings for my Cuckoo Clocks. These two little skullish beauties are just the tip of the iceberg.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ375hEMPIoEKH45Gp1zlQXBeqOsUC9MaZmJydS_JohJ2fA8qPEb-lDsEQ33xGwAd622-1Ym70nF9M9beaTI_R9QjNwO2DtnA5aEIB2c1ADeJfPiapOq6RuDCBhFnKFb5J2xxbrdE1amxS/s1600/Winged+Skull.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ375hEMPIoEKH45Gp1zlQXBeqOsUC9MaZmJydS_JohJ2fA8qPEb-lDsEQ33xGwAd622-1Ym70nF9M9beaTI_R9QjNwO2DtnA5aEIB2c1ADeJfPiapOq6RuDCBhFnKFb5J2xxbrdE1amxS/s320/Winged+Skull.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvlM0qpaVsKvMGtDTNKgmuaXddlF_yZq9Fv7kzvTZd8uea0HOIVzjnQlOGLOEevLJtN0iCHsrTcm3IWJZaBrruV6zvRIls2XDgj-E1h0212Bp2PMbbIdbPJRnApymbjwNCw8o6NsTyBDn-/s1600/Octoskull.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvlM0qpaVsKvMGtDTNKgmuaXddlF_yZq9Fv7kzvTZd8uea0HOIVzjnQlOGLOEevLJtN0iCHsrTcm3IWJZaBrruV6zvRIls2XDgj-E1h0212Bp2PMbbIdbPJRnApymbjwNCw8o6NsTyBDn-/s320/Octoskull.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
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Hopefully soon I'll be able to post some pictures of my latest insane creation - the Flip Cuckoo Clock. </div>
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<a href="http://woodofkings.blogspot.co.nz/2012/04/making-time.html">CLICK HERE FOR MORE CLOCKS</a></div>
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As my regular visitors will know I love a good abandoned couch. I literally cannot drive past one without photographing it. </div>
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So the good news is I have now found a use for all these pictures. I've published a photography book of abandoned couches called - imaginatively - Abandoned Couches.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU51c1mXd_Nj3qNiqK3LJIB7jkIb-VpW23ft2pbKRuVfxMybZXIJNGq1FP3MQqQa0hsEDdaM7ztVf2b3fVFrnC2I0igIPhq-KpHitwR5yX35H2ckE3g9LY6HeorDYTTpHL11HsF7WSRIMR/s1600/The+Book!.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="370" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU51c1mXd_Nj3qNiqK3LJIB7jkIb-VpW23ft2pbKRuVfxMybZXIJNGq1FP3MQqQa0hsEDdaM7ztVf2b3fVFrnC2I0igIPhq-KpHitwR5yX35H2ckE3g9LY6HeorDYTTpHL11HsF7WSRIMR/s400/The+Book!.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigDQbMxzDN6Bo5azmC_GAzQj3j0VMFRtyQDElThD7KAHHkn8M8I4jQndct3sGQARaICC3e-pghgpvjMJa8si5L_3Mctu8Ph-m1TllazFSWagdR7ksUBqgdGYjHT8uyqTZWqWM5AOaEMhnL/s1600/Inside+Book+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="198" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigDQbMxzDN6Bo5azmC_GAzQj3j0VMFRtyQDElThD7KAHHkn8M8I4jQndct3sGQARaICC3e-pghgpvjMJa8si5L_3Mctu8Ph-m1TllazFSWagdR7ksUBqgdGYjHT8uyqTZWqWM5AOaEMhnL/s400/Inside+Book+1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIo4KQiIl0iUGB3-JE9OwydSSz46LwG1JGFUCg0MZub7ZRnn2fVhH3pqXk4cvbIGP2666oQ80zz42rWbi-OsGJ8y_Ey6HC-frAIMJWgBpgSART5uAWxCq_-o82HXTy0lDEQ-L9DtU7EagX/s1600/Inside+Book+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="203" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIo4KQiIl0iUGB3-JE9OwydSSz46LwG1JGFUCg0MZub7ZRnn2fVhH3pqXk4cvbIGP2666oQ80zz42rWbi-OsGJ8y_Ey6HC-frAIMJWgBpgSART5uAWxCq_-o82HXTy0lDEQ-L9DtU7EagX/s400/Inside+Book+2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://au.blurb.com/bookstore/invited/2904270/f32bdb20d78a34c551a817d48a6f007a7cc09527?utm_medium=social&utm_source=facebook&utm_campaign=bookstore-share">CLICK HERE TO ORDER YOUR COPY</a></div>
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<a href="http://woodofkings.blogspot.co.nz/2012/07/behold-golden-couch.html">CLICK HERE FOR MORE COUCHES</a></div>
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For any new guests here are a few treats from my recent mad adventures.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiawExBKvxbly13OUwDou2Cy2KXqalIo424X2rPac8M_KzQenimaQHA1NWCCOWXu1KGKCO9cgsqZrN6BEWnwi5BMykB9m-SVvTYH2E2frd9tfytV64clQBpCZdxYcMB5GEWa0vAjZPOzthT/s1600/Time+Traveller.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiawExBKvxbly13OUwDou2Cy2KXqalIo424X2rPac8M_KzQenimaQHA1NWCCOWXu1KGKCO9cgsqZrN6BEWnwi5BMykB9m-SVvTYH2E2frd9tfytV64clQBpCZdxYcMB5GEWa0vAjZPOzthT/s320/Time+Traveller.JPG" width="276" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://woodofkings.blogspot.co.nz/2012/06/how-i-became-internet-phenomenon-and.html">TIME TRAVEL</a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVLhLn3TDqf9SLJ_Jb9iJs5kBy5V6WhwfRjDdI-lM3oRDWTnH5nq6JSky46Gtrt5k4N44T0b_9r6hwoM6kE55UXyrjYzXThyphenhyphen0VSHBT_rLbCTTfSJBA11iRmpz1hFTdVKKbziksTZJeGXUj/s1600/IMG_1729.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVLhLn3TDqf9SLJ_Jb9iJs5kBy5V6WhwfRjDdI-lM3oRDWTnH5nq6JSky46Gtrt5k4N44T0b_9r6hwoM6kE55UXyrjYzXThyphenhyphen0VSHBT_rLbCTTfSJBA11iRmpz1hFTdVKKbziksTZJeGXUj/s320/IMG_1729.jpg" width="281" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://woodofkings.blogspot.co.nz/2011/02/accept-loss.html">BOOK BURNING</a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZeK4BhOT4iyGT2CjK9alR35AOdvz5pbxyKOMDV5rKrp7wstEhoLPPU9qq4wC6zdiE0sEp-AWEN4DFYvu6nJll1xgXNc22xSmAja4lNpVB6ryAkIviAC1woXLhiJzwD63g4-oR7sq4DTma/s1600/IMG_5697.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZeK4BhOT4iyGT2CjK9alR35AOdvz5pbxyKOMDV5rKrp7wstEhoLPPU9qq4wC6zdiE0sEp-AWEN4DFYvu6nJll1xgXNc22xSmAja4lNpVB6ryAkIviAC1woXLhiJzwD63g4-oR7sq4DTma/s320/IMG_5697.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://woodofkings.blogspot.co.nz/2012/01/playground-of-damned.html">TERRIFYING PLAYGROUNDS</a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYwG1APhVM6V2U23vqrqq1NBu_KmXRcNDGZmG2C-ArdIvQWJXbBT49ItN2TI1mgjRIY76NIKYM8xiYjiq-A5egOroVGa7bn-htEplEeGbfUAHPpwWsS1NgbuSAxbcC9dQwKYU9DicacsO5/s1600/Das+Tub+Still.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYwG1APhVM6V2U23vqrqq1NBu_KmXRcNDGZmG2C-ArdIvQWJXbBT49ItN2TI1mgjRIY76NIKYM8xiYjiq-A5egOroVGa7bn-htEplEeGbfUAHPpwWsS1NgbuSAxbcC9dQwKYU9DicacsO5/s320/Das+Tub+Still.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5zX-CeFrMMM">BATH TUB FUN</a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_1tWq_bRlaZhJc9EtnRh4LdxjIa6PyzvC5DS3CkXsp09hzr-RTX71q1k-MjaBnHcB-bDHwYJRhR6SXIQOS0vVaMW4XdXl3hy2wQ5w6XS3v7fLaJAvY1ZLsLkeOERgIqjhQtAvCOrwWAVR/s1600/P1030477.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_1tWq_bRlaZhJc9EtnRh4LdxjIa6PyzvC5DS3CkXsp09hzr-RTX71q1k-MjaBnHcB-bDHwYJRhR6SXIQOS0vVaMW4XdXl3hy2wQ5w6XS3v7fLaJAvY1ZLsLkeOERgIqjhQtAvCOrwWAVR/s320/P1030477.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://woodofkings.blogspot.co.nz/2010/10/hard-as-bricks.html">GUN BUILDING</a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb8P8vBHfj_HO9roof1n7EyL9G7sIWW3aDFBzboVRNVewbv78eJYnHosQllFQk9jLwEqwahSnesKecaT_b4deS5WOTTmax53swMxTw74B5dgoIsFvBPJB-dp-ARQr8ZifK9KUPwzku3UlA/s1600/IMG_2202.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb8P8vBHfj_HO9roof1n7EyL9G7sIWW3aDFBzboVRNVewbv78eJYnHosQllFQk9jLwEqwahSnesKecaT_b4deS5WOTTmax53swMxTw74B5dgoIsFvBPJB-dp-ARQr8ZifK9KUPwzku3UlA/s320/IMG_2202.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://woodofkings.blogspot.co.nz/2011/03/come-take-walk-with-me.html">DRUNKEN TRAVELS</a></div>
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Anyway these clocks aren't going to build themselves. Keep checking in I'll try to keep my updates more regular. </div>
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Cheers,</div>
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Nick. </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8981599182030983196.post-72277833049804262712012-07-29T05:22:00.002-07:002012-07-29T05:22:57.438-07:00Behold a Golden Couch<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It started with a single cushion propped up against a tree at the side of the world. Like a herald signaling that something was approaching from a short distance. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGc9Aq_vgAErChDMKoBoRieoejzfhFKrfMtaD0ffHZ12wMKML-JpX7CsD5A5Pg8m6XSVo3Su5yeybq3Zx6I9IAkLEwTEvj9tLNSBhjZeY0BJ272jF73l2TAYJoeZdhyphenhyphen87kam9zV7umXH-w/s1600/cushion.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGc9Aq_vgAErChDMKoBoRieoejzfhFKrfMtaD0ffHZ12wMKML-JpX7CsD5A5Pg8m6XSVo3Su5yeybq3Zx6I9IAkLEwTEvj9tLNSBhjZeY0BJ272jF73l2TAYJoeZdhyphenhyphen87kam9zV7umXH-w/s320/cushion.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So over the last few days I've had another birthday woosh by. But the universe is kind and during this time I have also stumbled over a parade of abandoned couches. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And you, my regular visitors, know how much I love the beautiful ennui of the abandoned couch. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The first one I spotted was on state highway one in Foxton (the foxy town). I almost kept driving but in the end I backtracked to snap off a few shots. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE_dIxdckAUhR2d6PNz7HSB_997tRWY4KcrgFz5W1sKSG0xbM-kxqpENRNa719XOm4R9IrV1b38QDBlRCdL8qO1v68MGgi-uFZ_rZPzk2t2XydkGvZBFHESwywKzuJXBo8cvOxjHvNm3Hh/s1600/foxton+couch+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE_dIxdckAUhR2d6PNz7HSB_997tRWY4KcrgFz5W1sKSG0xbM-kxqpENRNa719XOm4R9IrV1b38QDBlRCdL8qO1v68MGgi-uFZ_rZPzk2t2XydkGvZBFHESwywKzuJXBo8cvOxjHvNm3Hh/s320/foxton+couch+2.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV0s_tYaugIpCFPyEtq374AGoQZunt5i32FW5Le89xae5xq2M-SrBrzI_ENYSA6wpkjY4nY6RiqMSGYdeYP_puHHbEGty6_FgbHWPQ0dOywknL89CKFoGfWYmD6X7NX3_NNUpCInVtiJi1/s1600/foxton+couch+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV0s_tYaugIpCFPyEtq374AGoQZunt5i32FW5Le89xae5xq2M-SrBrzI_ENYSA6wpkjY4nY6RiqMSGYdeYP_puHHbEGty6_FgbHWPQ0dOywknL89CKFoGfWYmD6X7NX3_NNUpCInVtiJi1/s320/foxton+couch+1.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">While I was busy clicking off shots this the owner of the house came out - a large woman in her dressing gown - and I asked me what I was doing. To be honest it was a difficult to explain. I just feel compelled to capture them on film. Like the lifespan of the mayfly or the blossoming of the mighty rotting corpse lily the existence of the abandoned couch is fleeting. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have discovered that if I don't photograph them the minute I see them they will be gone. I might think to myself "I'll take the picture on my way back" but by the time I return the couch will always have vanished. Having mysteriously moved on to the haberdashery graveyard. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The next couch I spotted was in Auckland, hidden down a road I very rather travel. Across the street from the house of a woman I once kissed and then never kissed again. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk7FOOn2YHh8xZ9s0g9haKadzhJeDAcJdWStKMg2e82FtToUCtxY2HFIY3diLyAo_n40g_PziFD6QAoNteEChR12_HLog3QG8HcqtaviqHK2tFePe7_-hRzsiVpzR1j5_tRz8hcgn5QUFq/s1600/Kingsland+Couch+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk7FOOn2YHh8xZ9s0g9haKadzhJeDAcJdWStKMg2e82FtToUCtxY2HFIY3diLyAo_n40g_PziFD6QAoNteEChR12_HLog3QG8HcqtaviqHK2tFePe7_-hRzsiVpzR1j5_tRz8hcgn5QUFq/s320/Kingsland+Couch+5.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7sgoYcUvHLKzmK1rqwNSXp93CQXzLoXWpDM-rr3VVwfoiWfPdB32vwGZTyktOvQtQtyakWDgKBY9RucZlzwbe9rvphOeCSCuAsfbJMYeKRDAJemlZZ1UU8qxCPPEv-DQiZsVZThrf0pek/s1600/Kingsland+Couch+6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7sgoYcUvHLKzmK1rqwNSXp93CQXzLoXWpDM-rr3VVwfoiWfPdB32vwGZTyktOvQtQtyakWDgKBY9RucZlzwbe9rvphOeCSCuAsfbJMYeKRDAJemlZZ1UU8qxCPPEv-DQiZsVZThrf0pek/s320/Kingsland+Couch+6.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Finally the last couch appeared outside the church hall in Kingsland where they have the Craftbomb fairs.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGtgCDDotYaB-lWQHmEuW-1hRGtwzquD7OyTxIYy1UWgYjTAVWFFDd91MoHhSqWeTqazlAZ2Op8Y73eBt7IipN3kOGpjbAYrdN-Cyzl14HILfqzi1cx8XMdb3B_c4DH0_3XnkBpFL9UUbi/s1600/Church+couch+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGtgCDDotYaB-lWQHmEuW-1hRGtwzquD7OyTxIYy1UWgYjTAVWFFDd91MoHhSqWeTqazlAZ2Op8Y73eBt7IipN3kOGpjbAYrdN-Cyzl14HILfqzi1cx8XMdb3B_c4DH0_3XnkBpFL9UUbi/s320/Church+couch+1.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAP7ljtZB7qbtENgwcXj9PNyx0pJj29Sx57lb6VFyqXsmBIGCXs-zAMy8ltf8-iMnW7kU6rG5uBUWnILsN1B8h0FWV8Yc9noeWfeqAOLVZxlzNYFNDF6wnJxu17t-hpPcHCj9A14QVvSiy/s1600/Church+couch+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAP7ljtZB7qbtENgwcXj9PNyx0pJj29Sx57lb6VFyqXsmBIGCXs-zAMy8ltf8-iMnW7kU6rG5uBUWnILsN1B8h0FWV8Yc9noeWfeqAOLVZxlzNYFNDF6wnJxu17t-hpPcHCj9A14QVvSiy/s320/Church+couch+3.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhanp7KjoZxUqbsRW_SMLqf8bi8fh8w6z9PY1XdRpNiQj0NaKs0iYDrJyXSrnp3xu3Iobe0Vad5B2NXx6H0Jn4yF59Hs6efa8OuqIzYQpBdRdqDr31bIvjSrautmM-dZ25T_lhczlhEtLyc/s1600/Church+couch+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhanp7KjoZxUqbsRW_SMLqf8bi8fh8w6z9PY1XdRpNiQj0NaKs0iYDrJyXSrnp3xu3Iobe0Vad5B2NXx6H0Jn4yF59Hs6efa8OuqIzYQpBdRdqDr31bIvjSrautmM-dZ25T_lhczlhEtLyc/s320/Church+couch+2.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There was a pretty spectacular FREE sign on this one. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtC83mkY7C_4xmchbTr6ej4Aiglipltu55k57sZi2i0hc12NHFF-jrPPjtHowEY5wYwK-S3QiYuy9s_diwmx_-vUK_tX-xm1YoYaU-J6Z-lI1iu3tR3Mm6IRbInKdQRy1HovtP7A2M4dRd/s1600/Church+couch+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtC83mkY7C_4xmchbTr6ej4Aiglipltu55k57sZi2i0hc12NHFF-jrPPjtHowEY5wYwK-S3QiYuy9s_diwmx_-vUK_tX-xm1YoYaU-J6Z-lI1iu3tR3Mm6IRbInKdQRy1HovtP7A2M4dRd/s320/Church+couch+4.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As <span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;">J. Alfred Prufrock measured his life in coffee spoons maybe I am measuring my life in abandoned furniture. Which begs the question - am I documenting them or are they documenting me? </span></span><br />
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<span class="huge" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>"It is better for you to be free of fear lying upon a pallet, than to have a golden couch and a rich table and be full of trouble."</i> - Epicurus. </span></span><span style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0