I thought I'd bring you a bit of happy channel surfing, bigging up my personal bright lights of blogworld.
Over on channel five you've got...err...us. I was a bit nervous when the deekster told me that he was going to put up the conversation we had in the pub, but listening to it, its quite a bright advert for low-fi instant media. From a simple walkman using its own internal mike, digitaly tranformed and broadcast into cyberspace.
I've been nervously clicking into Mike H world for a couple of days now, trying to discern whether he was kicking back in Milan with old friends or lying in the gutters of Milan with a needle in his arm, surrounded by a load of seedy underworld characters. The first time Mr. H was going to inject himself infront of me I left the room. The second time, straight after filming with Barry the Boss, I still had my camera with, so I decided to film instead.
"You're not going to die are you?"
Mr. H defies the media junkie sterotype. I think he has the advantage because he is alive to the experience of life, good or bad as long as it is rich in intensity. A new post is up! Our favourite performance junkie is still alive then!
Right up at the other end of the dial, and crossing the Atlantic, tuning into deepest Texas miss blindin' nashers is Dreaming about her Grandma and getting into some Iraqi poetry without succuming to any urges to make hay with us raging leftie anti-war bastards.
Keeping with the Texan vibe, Kimberley is resurecting more twisted tales from her life at Enron. She was kind enough to give us version one of this story. Version two unearths yet more from the dark shadows of capitalism.
And finnaly, still in the USA, our ex-millenial girl
is bringing us tales of CORUPTION, and Dwarfs.
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