Moogs Amazing Musings
Thursday, June 05, 2003
Last night, I had tremendous trouble getting to sleep. At first, I counted sheep. Then, tiring of this, I began some simple algebra, for which one sheep applied as X, although two sheep together would be Y, and a sheep with arthritis constituted Z. This kept me amused for some time, and, slowly but surely, my mind started to drift, drift away.
Thankfully, it was located in the early hours of this morning just off the west coast of Scotland. It was returned in full, although I did have to pay extortionate postage rates.
I am reminded of the ancient German folk tale of Dusselheind, the turnip farmer. For months and months he prayed to the Gods; “oh, great and merciful Gods, if only I might have a boy of my own, fashioned from discarded turnips.” No sooner had he spoken than he was shot through the guts with a harpoon. The moral of this story can be interpreted in two ways. Neither way, however, is of much use to an able bodied man.
On the television this morning, a man warned of the impending rapture. He refused to speculate on the precise time this event would take place, but revealed that tickets had sold out a fortnight ago, although some may still be purchased on ebay, albeit at extortionate prices.
I think about Catholicism for some time, and then, bizarrely, about some cheese I purchased a week ago.
Sergei denied me the pleasure of my afternoon nap by repeatedly making nonsensical statements into my ear. “Elephants know nothing of the powers of smelting”, he would say, or, “if only my grass where greener, then perhaps my trees would die.” I decided to punish him by holding a blow torch to my head for several hours. My skull has felt softer ever since, but I am quite sure Sergei has learned his lesson, as he has spoken only one sentence since, which was, “If my legs doth break, then mine seeds are scattered.”
I was happily watching a television programme about Wilderbeese, when I was interrupted by an uninvited angel of God. “I have come here to warn thee of great catastrophe!”, he hollered, and then, to my great sorrow, was hit by a low flying emu.
Friday, May 30, 2003
It would appear that i have fogotten to take my medication this morning, which was prescribed by my psychiatrist in order to keep me safe from violent furniture and dancing corpses. However, the corpses and I have reached a compromise, and so they may dance between the hours of 4.00 a.m and 6 a.m on Sundays, but one leg must be tied to one arm.
Thursday, May 29, 2003
Sergei, the boil on my ear, told me a highly amusing tale this evening. Once, it appears, he accidentally shot himself in the knees, whilst trying to ride a bicycle backwards. This led me to think about an idea for a short story I might write, about a man who owns the largest coffee bean distributors in the world. As a means of security, he pays a hitman to kill his nearest rival. Alas, the nearest rival turns out to be himself, as he owns both companies. Hilarity ensues.
To my delight, I see that my article on illegal file-sharing network SatanNet.com, has been published in today’s Observer. For those who missed it, it is as follows.
SatanNet : A Damning Expose
By Moogford Alexander
A teenaged male sits in the sleaze-puss riddled domain that is his bedroom. His parents, both white, both civil servants, are downstairs in the living room, probably watching a “television programme” (1). They are unaware of the heinous acts of international theft and espionage which are taking place in the lair of their assembled bodily juices. This could be anywhere. In fact, this is everywhere.
In a few hours, following a series of calculated “mouse” clicks (2), the youth will have cost the entertainment industry an estimated $400m. He is one of billions of users of SatanNet, a file sharing programme which, when installed on ones computer, provides one with unlimited access to a world of copyrighted and illegal material. The risks however, are enormous. In January of this year, James Presley became the first person to die as a direct result of SatanNet, after downloading an estimated 20 tonnes of crack cocaine.
In March 2001, dozens of communities perished by drowning, after a SatanNet user accidentally deleted the Isle Of Mann. The outcry was sensational, causing the government to seriously consider banning the use of the programme. As of the time of writing, this has yet to be achieved.
Perhaps the biggest voice of dissent comes from the music industry. In an interview given to Noise magazine, Salvidor Viagra, frontman with US indie-punks Rebelladonna, outlined his fears for the safety of his family, following an incident that threatened his very life. “It was very disturbing”, Viagra said, holding back great vats of salty tears. “Someone downloaded our garden shed and hid in it for a fortnight. We were frightened to leave the house.” But Viagra is not the only superstar celebrity to be put at risk on account of SatanNet. Consider the sorry case of hip-hop gangster rapper Willy Chuck G, who had his entire collection of assault rifles downloaded from his bedroom. The rifles where then sent by “email” (3) to Iraq, where they were used in several revolutions.
Perhaps most chilling of all, is the fact that several men on the FBI’s most wanted list, are registered users of SatanNet. It has been exclusively revealed by a leading tabloid newspaper, that Osama Bin Laden has downloaded several weapons of mass destruction, under the unassuming pseudonym SexyChick35.(4)
Hollywood, also, has come under threat from SatanNet. Production on Martin Scorsese’s Gangs Of New York was famously postponed for two weeks, after a black male in Connecticut downloaded three supporting actresses. But it is not only legitimate films that are being halted by users of the programme. Pornographic video production has fallen by roughly 46.89%, after 14 leading actors had their penises downloaded.
So, then, what is being done about it? What actions are the powers that be taking to ensure we can continue to live in a land where multi-million dollar companies can continue to thrive, without threat of piracy or death by stabbing? In a televised interview, State Senator Arthur McCarthy explained the government’s proposals for SatanNet. “Obviously”, he began, “we are very worried about this particular programme. Our biggest obstacle is public perception. Few people in America understand what a 21st Century pirate actually is. They don’t have wooden legs, or eye-patches. Most of them won’t even have parrots. These are highly sophisticated people, highly dangerous operations.” In a sad footnote, which exposes the deep roots of this vile growth, McCarthy was publicly exposed as a SatanNet user shortly after the interview, when a TV News Reporter discovered that the Senator had downloaded between 4 and 5 thousand African children to work as slaves in his home.
However, are there any positive points to be made about SatanNet? Perhaps we should take into account the actions of Fr. Keith Harvard, who gives mass over SatanNet to bedridden parishioners, who can then download The Body Of Christ in their own home.
Novelist Gareth Stevens, however, remains vigilant. “I mean, its downright evil. I’ve had fourteen ideas for short stories downloaded before I even had time to write them down. Its completely villainous.” (5) Other writers, too, are worried about their professional future. “I’ve had two of the main characters from my novel downloaded”, author Janice Williams told The New York Times. “I can’t finish the novel without them.”
The question is, then, what is the future for SatanNet. “The problem”, says Klein in his File Sharing: The New Murder, “is that no one knows who is behind it. No one knows who is running the programme. In much the same way as a murder cannot be solved without a murderer, so can the file sharing problem never be stopped without a source” (6) The omens, however, are terrifying. Owen Greene became the second farmer this month to have his livestock downloaded and sold on the black market. James Reed, headmaster of St. Lucy’s School For Boys, had his entire second year class downloaded and e-mailed to a third world sweat shop. Air Travel companies too are suffering. Many users of SatanNet now download family and friends to their homes, by way of escaping escalating travel expenses.
The future looks bleak. But there is hope. To remain vigilant is to tear this evil from the body of the globe. Perhaps the last word should go to Alfred Lonzo, who was head of Time-Warner between the years 1956-1966. “I have no carrots. Not that I could eat them anyway”, he laughs, “I’m allergic.”
BIBLIOGRAPHY
(1) Lisa Jones, Explaining Modern Society, p32 (Hudson, 1994)
(2) Norton, Contemporary Society Evaluated And Defined, p15 (Smith & Smith, 1987)
(3) Norton, Analysis Of The Internet, p57 (Smith & Smith, 1997)
(4) Information uncovered at www.happycamper.org/net/osama, 15th July 2002
(5) Hugh, Stevens On Stevens, pp67,68 (Africorp, 2000)
(6) Klein, File Sharing: The New Murder, p43 (University Associates, 2001)
What evil lurks in the hearts of men? Hard to imagine, although I’m sure heart surgeons could hazard a guess.
I decided to find the answer to the question on everyone’s lips, until, to my immense displeasure, I discovered that the question on my lips is in fact a boil.
On a happier note, however, I have began work on my latest poem, a tale of human desperation harking back to my own teenage years.
Ballad Of The Burst Appendix
(Work in progress)
By Moogford Alexander
“I still recall the hour and time
my guts had first exploded,
around my navel, biting pains,
my stomach, lost, corroded.”
What evil lurks in the hearts of men? Hard to imagine, although I’m sure heart surgeons could hazard a guess.
I decided to find the answer to the question on everyone’s lips, until, to my immense displeasure, I discovered that the question on my lips is in fact a boil.
On a happier note, however, I have began work on my latest poem, a tale of human desperation harking back to my own teenage years.
Ballad Of The Burst Appendix
(Work in progress)
By Moogford Alexander
“I still recall the hour and time
my guts had first exploded,
around my navel, biting pains,
my stomach, lost, corroded.”
In this time of spiritual crisis, we must remember the words of the great Irish song writer;
"For what died the sons of Roisin?
Their hearts, which did crucially fail them."
As I think of this I can't help but feel sorrow, and also slightly aroused.
I saw the most beautiful woman in the world today, whilst browsing through www.nakedlesbiansreadingsocrates.com. She wasn’t on the site, you understand, rather she was standing behind me in the library, waiting to use the computer. She seemed somewhat disturbed by my choice of online reading material, but much more disturbing than this was the fact that I hadn’t shaved in what felt like a decade, and bore scant resemblance to the charming fellow depicted in my high school photographs. Alistair Brown, his name was, and I have hated him with a passion ever since he stole my first love away from me. Perhaps stole is too strong a word, but there were certainly some devious means of subtle persuasion involved. I often wondered what happened to young Brown when he left school, and I hope with all my intestines that he ended up working for the rest of his days in a smelting operation.
For some time after I left the library, I wandered the many aisles of Tescos supermarket, until I had a tremendous vision, which I have come to believe originated either from some divine source, or, more likely, from the cigarette I picked up from the floor of the bus this morning.
Are boys better than girls? Perhaps, if the test to decide the answer is to be a “Who’s got the biggest penis” competition. I think about this for sometime, before, curiously, developing a large boil on my left ear, which I have come to believe to be the reincarnation of Sergei Eisenstien.
I think about Krishna for sometime, and wonder if he is real, and if anyone that blue can be taken seriously in up-market drinking establishments.
Life is like a box of chocolates. One feels guilty and nauseous after too much indulgence.
I long to be more than an alter-ego. Also, I would very much like a new haircut.
