Matthew Henry John Bartlett

+64 27 211 3455
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Monday 31 May, 02004

by Matthew Bartlett @ 10:25 pm

LiT has a scene with 4:20 shown on a clock ahehe.

I recommend Dr Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb.

by Matthew Bartlett @ 8:54 am

Massively multiplayer thumb-wrestling [via /.]
Mechano Difference Engine [via /.]
All about Death Stars

Sunday 30 May, 02004

by Matthew Bartlett @ 11:16 pm

Aaron’s weekend (feat. me)

Saturday 29 May, 02004

by Matthew Bartlett @ 2:24 pm

LOVE IS ONLY PROXIMITY
CHIMERA DEADLY COMPLACENCY

by Matthew Bartlett @ 2:19 pm

scared of God

Spirit sustains us all

by Matthew Bartlett @ 2:18 pm

Adbusters #51
Dad (happy b/d fo’ yesserday)
Happy hollow and very tired
Jono, Rebecca, Ingrid
Mr & Mrs Heeringa
My scarf
My teapot
Staying up all night
Reconditioned shoes
Ride/Rolling Thunder
Tonga’s discman
Tranz Metro
Whisky

Friday 28 May, 02004

by Matthew Bartlett @ 4:14 pm

Make the IE status bar stay put in Windows XP
Interview with Sofia Coppola & Ross Katz
Map of Springfield [via Richard]
Creating the play Meeting Karpovsky [650K PDF]

by Matthew Bartlett @ 3:17 pm

TO SAY “THERE ARE MANY TRUTHS”
DOES NOT SAY “THERE ARE NO LIES”

Generalist

by Matthew Bartlett @ 11:55 am

my role is KONNECTOR
i know a little about ALL TOPIX
so that i can KONNECT people TOGEHTOR
to ACHEEVE big THINGS

Some pit to climb out of

by Matthew Bartlett @ 11:24 am

In a rather worthwhile talk on theology and the arts [RealAudio: Part 1, Part 2] Jeremy Begbie said:

I was deprived. I never had the unhappy childhood necessary for greatness. The worst things that happened to me were shopping at weekends, unfinished homework and the ghost beneath the bed. My one regret in life is that I was not born on the bad side of town. At 14 I wanted to be the heavyweight champion of the world, but I was 70 pounds to light, and had no criminal record. I could have been the next John Lennon, but my parents couldn’t misunderstand me. My first novel dried up through lack of trauma. No skeletons in my cupboards, no ghosts to exorcise. Now I’m going to be a poet, I’m looking for the net that could be the key, the chip that could be the spur. If only things had been different. If only I could have been like the rest. All I ask of life is some poverty to flee from and a pit to climb out of.

Happy days

by Matthew Bartlett @ 10:35 am

In Psalm 104, sin is an afterthought, a glitch, a pimple, an abberation in the overwhelmingly good world that God made and makes.

G’Horse

by Matthew Bartlett @ 9:54 am

Goldenhorse played well. Some of their new songs are hot to trot. I bumped into Robert from Christchurch, and that was nice. It was an unusual crowd; none of the regulars.

Thursday 27 May, 02004

Seabed

by Matthew Bartlett @ 9:45 am

There are little and bigger fish in the shallows of Chaffers Marina, round near Te Papa. There are lots of starfish and some of them glide very slowly over the sea floor if you watch long enough. Evidentally they don’t mind the taste of diesel.

Wednesday 26 May, 02004

Mary Oliver/The Summer Day

by Matthew Bartlett @ 11:55 pm

From Adbusters #45 (ALL READ ADBUSTERS):

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean –
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down –
who is gazing around with her enourmous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

by Matthew Bartlett @ 10:17 pm

Pirsig vs. Wittgenstein