Mindy's Statue Meme

Photo taken by D.

I was surprised to find this statue standing in the paddock across from my Mum's house, apparently staring right into her dining room. Up close the statue is actually looking past her house and into the distance, but the eyes kinda follow you, making it seem like you are under survelliance. Apart from its proximity to my Mum's place, this statue is also special because it used to grace the roof of the supermarket where I worked as a teenager, desperately trying to save $1000.00 before I went to Uni. That was enough, just, to buy a second hand car back then. I didn't buy the car but the $1000 itself was a somewhat magical figure. Thankfully it no longer takes me a year to save $1000.00.

Teliqua

Blue Tongues are one of my favourite reptiles. This is partly because I grew up with them in the backyard but also because they totally rock, and I almost have a biology degree so I know. (Number one is the Shingleback)
Anyway, the generic name for blue tongues is Tiliqua. This, I find, immensely cute.
Remember this next time you are thinking of a bunch of Mexicans drinking the Demon Drink that is Tequila.
An ex-workmate learned a different way of shooting tequila in Mexico - and this is apparently what the locals do.
Salt, Lemon or lime, shot of Tequila. You lick, suck, sip, but you don't swallow til the very end.
Lick the salt and hold it. Suck/crush the lemon. Mix with your mouth. Then add the shot. Mix and swallow.
The Tequila is mostly detected as wonderful smokey aftertaste.
I recommend it.

I do not recommend mistaking gin for vodka and making a big catchup glass of (non)vodka and orange. The consumption of this results in swig, pause, shudder. Swig, pause, shudder. It's a bit like catching up by charging through the bush rather than simply running along the meandering path to catch up with the other hikers.

At your DVD rental place now.

Go and hire 'Napoleon Dynamite'.
It is genius - sheer genius.
Genuinely original comedy.
Also the opening credits are the best since "George of the Jungle", and the smartest ever.
Wonderfully shot. Wonderfully acted. Wonderfully written.

More cerebral fare in 'France is Free' which is a collection of colour film from 1939 til 1944 mostly from France. Very very very interesting. Mostly about normal life in France, so plenty to see for non-WW2 military buffs.

Any minute now...

We might have Carl Scully as Premier here in NSW.

And I was having such a good day too..... *pout*

Story in SMH

Why? It makes me wonder what shit is about to hit the fan..

Duck and Cover

I didn't even read the story, the picture says enough.
Never has one man looked so nerdy. I'll sleep better tonight knowing GI Johnny is on the case.

Living La Vida Loca.

I went and got Bluejuice CDs this morning.
My previous attempt on Friday night saw me get Butterfingers instead. Lord Mattress-Hammer came giggling up to me and pointed out the wonderful CD that he'd found called "The Sauna Sessions - Homo Rooting Music." I didn't buy that one. (Besides, I already have Ricky Martin and C and C music factory. Funnily enough it was MEG who put on Ricky and danced drunkenly to it last time. Yet, some how, _I'm_ gay?!?! Music that makes nice drunk women dance in my house and often on the table and yet arrr forgeddaboutit....)
So this morning I walked down the road and into SO Music and the cute babe was on. I think she must own it or be part owner. Anyway, she is really cute and has a really cute voice, and with said voice she said she didn't have the Bluejuice EP and that it was called "The Good Luck Pig". Then I thought about giving her lolly-pops and eating peeled grapes out of her belly button. Then about a line of cubes of mango from her chin to the strawberry that was placed 'just so' in a certain area.
Then I walked down to Fish and asked for the Bluejuice EP called "The Good Luck Pig". Sorry, said the woman, we only have "Zebra" (2003).
So I went and took 'Zebraaazz' (as I discovered it was spelled) from the shelf and for some unknown reason (as I have never, ever done this ever) pulled out the liner notes and read the funniest liner notes ever.

They start off with:

thank Youzz.
First and foremost, we'd like to thank the letter, Z, for being so street. Without your kind assistance, bluejuice could never be as hard as we are.
Thankz to Tony Buchem. You are hard too. Your production skillz are so topz and it showz in the phat tunezz. We like it how sometimez you have abeard and sometimez not. That's the fashion eh bro.
Thanks to Jacob Cook. At bluejuice when we hear your name we scream out "madremixa" and pull hard gang signz. Then we go tag your name on trainz.
[etc]

This is the first time I've bought a CD for the liner notes.
$10.
Check out the liner notes, dudes.

Then I walked down to HUM and asked for the Bluejuice EP called "The Good Luck Pig" (2005). The woman (not hot, but cool peircings) there said 'yes' and gave it to me.
Sweet.
Or possibly word.
$10.
TGLP has 'Unemployed' on it, which is the lyric from the previous post and is a totally cool tune.
I must confess that I thought TGLP much better than Z because the keyboards and bass were funk based rather than jazz based and I much prefer funk over jazz, particulaly when it is used with hiphop. Musically and lyrically TGLP is much more developed, mature and interesting.
Anyway, these guys totally rock [yah. totally.] and they will get lots of play at my place.

Last night I went to the Vanilla Room in Leichhardt which is a bar about 50 square centimetres in area with really loud crap music that then turned pretty good but still made conversation impossible. I was with 400 other people when Alec brought in a shooter he'd been raving on about for a couple of days: Springboks. They are Creme de Menthe with Baileys sitting on top. They taste like peppermint Aero bars. They are extremely yummy. They are also (as I discovered later) $7 each.
After waiting for about 5 hours to get served, I broke camp and rolled up my sleeping bag to give my order. Realising that I been waiting for ages, and knowing that the next drinks might not arrive until next millenium I ordered two rounds ie 8 drinks.
8 x $7 = $56.
$56.
FIFTY SIX BUCKS!!

Let me write that again.

FIFTY SIX BUCKS!

Holy shit!

So, next time, instead of spending $56 in some crap over-priced noisy place, I am having the Sydney University Women's Hockey team around. They can each pay $10 and LM-H and I will feed them Springboks for hours. Then I will take the nicest one up to my room with a small knife and a veritable cornucopea of fruit.

Fifty six friggin' busks, man. I'm telling you.

Christ, I like belly buttons. I really do.

Fifty freakin six freakin bucks!

We're unemployed! We're unemployed!

Hey!
I have six and a half days to go and then I'm unemployed.
I have decided to not take the digital filming job and instead take about a month off to do some admin, chill out and be a tourist in my own town.

I haven't yet been to the Museum of Contempary Art (even though it's free!) down at Circular Quay. I still haven't been to the Museum of Sydney or the one that Howard got all het up about with it's 'black arm band view of history'.
As thingo said 'History is little more than the follies and errors of mankind.'
Deal.

I'm going to wander round Paddington and the Rocks and check out the small galleries and what-not and take full advantage of the fact I am young, tall and don't dress too well to walk wherever the hell I want in my own city without being hassled or mugged. (I was discussing wandering around the city at night with a slight, attractive, well dressed friend and she pointed out the caution she felt walking the streets at night.) [A bit of body language also works eg walking on the road rather than the footpath; walking with clenched fists; eye contact.] Dressing as Batman would be a bit of a two-edged sword methinks.

Work out the other stuff I take for granted.

Sitting in the sun.
Walking throught the Botanic Gardens with someone with a bottle of red each.
Catching the Rivercat up to Parramatta and back.

And I fully intend to find out what track I've taken the title from - some Aussie Hiphop outfit.

What else do people recommend?

Happy Belated Birthday Flop Eared Mule

Yes, Flop Eared Mule is one. Congratulations on making it through the year. Actual birthday was Saturday, but as I was toddler wrangling I didn't get online all day.

Also, if you are looking for something timewasting on this beautiful Monday, take the Evil Genius test (borrowed from Flop Eared Mule). Lots of other time wasting tests to do as well. I may only be 25% white trash, but with a bit of creative lying, I managed to be 79% Evil Genius.

Ultra disguise kits

Ultra disguise kits for dogs. Turn your doberman into a giant poodle. Apparently Qld are banning a number of 'dangerous' dog breeds of which the doberman is one. The owner of this dog is annoyed because, as he rightly points out, it's not the breed of dog that is the problem, but how it has been treated and socialised. Any dog can bite.

So he has come up with these great disguise kits for dogs on the banned list. See his website here. There are more pictures of dressing the dog under ultra disguise kits. Very cute.

Back At Ya

Reading Speedy's post about vivasection reminded me of this.
Quite clever methinks.

oh me-oh my-oh...

... it's amazing the disparate websites you come across while you're searching for something completely different... take a look at these, for example -

Vegan Straight Edge (little warning, there are a couple of icky photos on the page)

and

Battle Focused(tm) Ministries

now, to the naked eye, very different, and yet, they do have something in common. do you know what it is, boys and girls?

yes, that's right! they're both loony fundamentalists. hate to fire Anti-Ob back up again but oh, mummy, look at the silly man ranting on a street corner ;-)

go on, search their pages, I dare you to not get cranky. the pseudo-medico-babble on Straight Edge gets me quite cranky indeed - don't get me wrong, I think vivisection is very, very wrong, but all that guff? pfft. at least I can have a laugh at Battle Focussed because, well, they're hilarious, and they're For Battle in a really different way! have a squizz at the battle flow-chart on the 'Spiritual Warfare' tab and you'll see what I mean...

funny, huh?

You know it's going to be one of those days when...

Halfway to work you can't remember whether you put knickers on.

Anyone else?

A meeting of elbows

On a windy Sunday in Sydney Town, a lone Canberran elbow wandered into a pub. Waiting for her were a bunch of eager locals.

CrazyBrave meets flopearedmule


CrazyBrave meets Liam


CrazyBrave meets harry/Batman


CrazyBrave meets Meg


harry/Batman then used his charm to convince the nice young bistrogirl to take a group shot


Hurrah for beer and elbows!

The best things in life

Anyone who knows me will know that my attitude to drugs is fairly complex: being experiential, philosophical, physiological and occasionally spiritual in nature. Cynically you could say it was all a load of rationalizing after-the-fact with some faux-shamanistic gobbledeegook thrown in, but that position is for cowards and losers who dress funny.
However, it can all be summed up by: Drugs are sometimes bad, m’kay?
Take, ooh, last Saturday for instance. Sure I was dressed as a saguaro cactus and, it being my sister’s place, I could get away with more borderline behaviour than otherwise, but none of this excuses the mistake I made that when offered drugs I opted for the ‘one of each’ plan.
I believe it is one of those plans where you enjoy now and pay later.
For all the kiddies listening here are some interesting tips: Generally speaking only take one recreational drug at a time. If your rec. drug of choice is alcohol and you have already embarked on the plan to get more than tipsy, it is a bad idea to take any other drug. A small amount of alcohol is probably alright. Ecstasy is cut with Speed. How much Speed versus Ecstasy there is will depend on how cheap-arse the maker was since Speed is cheaper than Ecstasy. Alcohol, to a large extent, negates the effects of Ecstasy. Smoking marijuana in conjunction with any other drug is generally a bad idea.
I consider Tequila to be a separate rec. drug in it’s own right – and you should too. If you plan to function the next day DO NOT mix any of the above or indeed all of the above (as, you with have gathered, I did). Speed and alcohol will make you more ‘you’ than you have ever been before, but so will Tequila, so maybe they reinforce each other. Speed makes you grind your teeth such that brushing the next evening may be a physically painful.
Proviso: Tequila body-shots are generally always a good idea. This is because you get to lick other people on the neck and they lick yours, and then get the lemon from their teeth. Okay, maybe I’m biased because on my left was an English babe called Nirvana, who sometime afterwards politely chastised me for kissing her on the cheek saying ‘I know what you were up to!’ [She didn’t. And I wasn’t about to tell her that I had a fleeting fancy that she was some sort of Earth and Fire Goddess of the Old World and that it would be cool to kiss one. In my defence I would like to submit the following: dark skin, flames, eyes that were hhwrhe! Hair that was all hhggrrgh. And a mouth that was hrrgge! And a voice that was Ggrhrhjeh!!; and, finally, I was on drugs. But she has invited me to her party in two weeks time, so I count it as a Great Victory.] and on my right a smiling cool woman called Sarah who was shiny and positive and was extraordinarily reminiscent of Lord Mattress Hammer’s mum.
Now, before you go jumping to conclusions about how I think Mumsy (as we call her) is a MILF; or are reading this saying ‘But I thought harry was turned gay by Liam Hogan’s gay friendly posts?’; and 'surely harry isn't sanctioning drugs as 'the best things in life'?!' let me explain.
Women rock.
And cool women, doubly so.

God of War

I really want two great scimitars chained to my wrists today, like in that new game God of War. I could really use them today, it's just been that sort of day. I think I got out of bed on the wrong day. I should have tried Wednesday.

I could have used them on that man who sat at my table, so that the waitress delivered my lunch to the wrong table cause I had to sit somewhere else. Luckily when she left my lunch there he'd gone off somewhere so I was able to steal my own lunch back. Except that now a whole pub full of people think that I'm a lunch thief. Scimitars would make short work of them too.

Or I could use them on all the people who haven't called me back about invoices that I want to pay goddammit. I'm trying to give them money, and they don't want to know about it. F**kers. Making my otherwise boring job difficult. I am not in the mood for a difficult and boring job. Where are those scimitars?

Getting Back to Fundamentalisms

A collection of things from recent weeks is finally coming together: Douglas Adams describing himself as an evengelical athiest... religious loonies securing an even firmer grip on the US Supreme Court... more religious loonies blowing people up... religious toasters on Battlestar Galactica... Harry being Batman...

I want to be a Fundamentalist Athiest.

The non-believers are always all nice and forgiving and "you should respect the beliefs of others" and apologising for the loonies as if it wasn't their fault. And the raving nutbags are meanwhile shouting "Die! Die! Die!" and killing doctors who give abortions to underage rape victims out of their profound respect for life. And the non-believers apologise again and meekly say that everyone has the right to their own opinion but shouldn't that mean that they have a right to theirs as well? And then some more with the "Die! Die! Die!"

Screw that. When did being understanding and respecting the beliefs of others ever get us anywhere with the crazed lunatics? From now on I'm going to scream at them in public that they are going to cease to exist utterly when they die as the universe's indifferent but ironic judgement on them for wasting the one life they were given knocking on doors and annoying sleeping people on Sunday mornings, and that they should get their filthy superstitions away from the children. Honestly, I'd blow something up, but my belief system tells me that my reward for sacrificing my life for the cause would be to spend the remainder of this my only life in a cell with a 200 kilo lonely man named Bubba, and then to die. We athiests need a better benefits package, or at least better PR.

Harry, you are NOT Batman, and if you don't stop telling small children that you are, I may have to kill you.

bloody hell

the London Underground and buses have been closed down due to explosions in the Tube and one in a double-decker bus (ripped it apart, I just saw it on the telly). Scotland Yard said explosions have been reported at Edgware Road, King's Cross, Liverpool Street, Russell Square, Aldgate East and Moorgate.the bus was at Tavistock Square. the latest reports -

from ABC Australia
Chaos as blasts rock London tube, bus

from the BBC
Two killed in London explosions

from ABC America
Blasts Rock London Subway, Destroy Bus

from CNN
Multiple explosions rock London

from Yahoo
'Major incident' closes London rail network, injuries reported

part of me hates to be so sensationalist as to blog it, but part of me wants to say jesus-bloody-christ just like everyone else... about the only thing you can say for sure is that London and Madrid are now the safest bets for a European city destination. because they've already been done over. which is hardly very confidence inspiring...

ps: Meg, help, blogger is a bitch and won't let me make it all look neat.

What women want blog day only one day late

or An Antidote to Hillsong

The 'Lord, what do women want' coordinated blogging from Wednesday was a really good idea. darcy's made me want to run up the barricade with a big red flag, the smoke shattering behind me as the flag billows and blooms. At the summit I raise a fist and holler 'Come on! Give it to them!' before being cut down in a particularly romantic fashion by hissing musket balls.
[Oh, yeah. I would have better hair in the movie.. screw it, I'd be played by the Gael bloke they keep going on about - the one from The Motorcycle Diaries.]

Okay, forbattle women.
6 things.
No more than four lines per thing.
Wait for it.
Wait.
Ok...
..Go!

Don't Ask Me, I'm Just a Girl

Hillsong is hosting a freaky evangelical conferance at the Superdome this week. The drive to work to day was longer because of all the traffic at the big roundabout. Plus its where i go to gym/swim and i may get tainted.
Anyway i was looking at the site, theres a men's do later in the year, don't forget boys.
Earlier this year there was a womens conferance "Colour your World". This is what it was all about

Women are fantastic. They are beautiful, diverse, interesting and intriguing. Unshackled, they captivate hearts and light up a room. They are warm, embracive, maternal and delightful. They delight in friendship and crave companionship - the desire for loyalty runs within their veins. They're dynamic and creative and without doubt are fashioned for greatness!
We believe in women! We believe in their potential and the significant contribution they bring to this table called Life! We believe that "within every woman resides a history maker capable of making her world a better place".
COLOUR exists to champion this cause. Birthed from a whisper sensed from above, this conference seeks to tell "everyday women" that there is a God in heaven and a company of people here on earth, who believe in them.

Thank you very farking much, you arrogent, self rightous bastards. Once again i'm saved from the brink of gender self loathing by having some god bothers 'believe' in me and that i'm slightly above the family pet, cause i'm 'fanfuckingtastic'.

Gag
Me
With
A
Spoon

I'm Batman

Last week Lord Mattress-Hammer and I saw ‘Batman Begins’. It totally rocks.
The inevitable happened the next morning when we argued over who was Batman.
The argument went as follows: [Note that when anyone says ‘I’m Batman’ they say it in the growly voice from the movie]

h: I’m Batman.
LMH: I’m Batman.
h: No, I’m Batman.
LMH: No fuck that! I’m Batman.
[long pause]
LMH: I’m Batman
h: I’m Batman
LMH: You can be Robin. I’m Batman.
h: I can’t be Robin.
LMH: Why not?
h: I’m Batman.

Sadly the issue was unresolved that morning, as I had to go to work. The rest of the day my head was half-filled with thoughts about what to do with a delusional housemate. It was obvious that I’m Batman. The other 50% of what was in my head is private but I must confess, God bless, some impure thoughts.

Then yesterday, to make good use of a gloriously sunny day, we (That is my housemate: Lord Mattress-Hammer and me: Batman) went for a healthy manly walk along the Eastern Beaches. From Clovelly to Bondi and Back again, a Hobbit’s tale. We headed off the beaten track a couple of times, and my trail blazing lead us to what LMH was sure would lead to an impassable cliff. I assured him he was obviously completely wrong and a total coward until we got to an impassable cliff. Realising that we’d have to go all the way back, I picked a small flower.
After the three-hour walk we got back to the car. I pulled the flower from my pocket and said “I have carried this flower from the base of the cliff, all the way back to the car. … I’m Batman.” [those who’ve seen Batman Begins will know what this is about] Mattress-Hammer immediately yoinked the flower from my fingers said “I’m Batman” and threw it over his shoulder.
Dear Reader, you may think that this immense battle of wits was therefore resolved then and there, and that it was not in my favour, but lo! The knock-out blow was this morning where this most vexing of issues was solved by Lord Mattress-Hammer admitting total defeat.

Herman the Stray who lives in our backyard yowls at my bedroom window from 6am til 8am. Then he climbs in through the slatted bathroom window and runs up to my room. I take him downstairs; kick him out; and lock the bathroom door from the outside.
I had retired to bed once more when I heard Mattress-Hammer go downstairs to the bathroom.
I heard him hesitate at the locked door, not realizing it was locked from the outside not the inside.
I then heard him ask: “My guys?” and then “Batman?”

AHAHHAH!! TOTAL VICTORY! He acknowledged that I am Batman.
And it’s true. I’m Batman.

About and hour later I was about to leave for work when I noticed my shoes were squeaking. I walked into the front room, where LM-H was tooling around on his laptop. “I have the squeakiest shoes ever!” I announced. LM-H immediately leapt from his chair, ran passed me into the lounge room where we had a Squeak Off. It was like a B-boy battle but far lamer. We didn’t bust any moves of extreme funkiness and neither of us were beat-boxing. LM-H was handicapped because had to do the Twist to elicit noise from his shoes, whereas I simply had to walk.
The outcome was not in doubt.
I do have the squeakiest shoes ever.
Is there no end to my greatness?
Of course not!
And do you why?
It’s because… I’m Batman.

In the interests of science...

Or how to put a positive spin on eating crap food.

To save everyone out there from having to eat the horror that is a Dagwood Dog, I have done it for you. What's more, I am also in a position to do a direct comparison with American Corn Dogs. So you no longer need to fear someone starting a conversation with ''So do you prefer Corn Dogs (or Dawgs) or Dagwood Dogs?" because now, thanks to me, you can discuss their relative merits.

Firstly, let me explain the difference. A dagwood dog is a hot dog covered in batter and deep fried. Generally considered inedible, even with tomato sauce. The amount of tomato sauce required to eat a dagwood dog is about half a bottle. Less sauce means that you end up with no sauce on your battered hotdog, meaning that you might actually be able to taste it. Bad idea. Of course having enough sauce causes its own problems, because you end up covered in sauce.

A corn dog is an American skinless hotdog covered in cornmeal batter and deep fried. Generally considered edible with mustard and ketchup. Surprisingly tasty.

So, my excuse for eating them was that I was at the Alice Springs Show on Saturday and for some reason, probably the fumes from Sideshow Alley, I thought that a once a year Dagwood Dog would be a good idea. Until I ate it that is. And about 14 hours after the event I knew it wasn't a good idea at all. And then two hours after that. Still a bad idea.

My excuse for eating a corn dog is that I was at the Independence Day celebration on Sunday and they were cooking corn dogs, which my husband was desperate to try (despite the fact that he laughs at my once a year dagwood dog). He bought two. So I ate a surprisingly tasty corn dog, thinking that it was far superior to a dagwood dog because the batter was light and fluffy and slightly corny and the hot dog didn't taste like a hotdog. However, approximately 7 hours after I discovered that it was a bad idea too. Then another five hours after that.

So while corn dogs generally taste better and are far more edible than a dagwood dog, they both end up producing the same effect. Generally referred to as ''through the eye of a needle". Avoid them at all costs. And if anyone starts a conversation with ''So do you prefer corn dawgs or dagwood dogs" I suggest looking at them mournfully, announcing that you have lost your spoon and starting to cry.

A Cunning Plan

have just returned from dinner and jolly japes at Cozalcoatl and the anti-ob's place. they make a mean burrito, and have funky (in both senses of the word) ferrets to play with. also in attendance was harry, Amanda, and Mr and Mrs Grand Pooh-bah, who are yet to make their appearance amongst these fair pages...

anyway, Cozamacoatl was telling us how a bottle of grog broke in anti-ob's backpack. what was it again? the stuff that wasn't tequila? I can't remember. the point was - the waste of a whole bottle of spirits!

harry and I were lamenting this, wondering if they had sucked said precious fluid from the clothes in his backpack. as if that didn't sound suss enough, we then thought of... A Cunning Plan...

the Alcoholic Pants Party!

yes.

simple but brilliant.

instead of imbibing alcohol, the point of the evening is to get drunk through one's clothes, by immersing them in the spirit of choice and then wearing to achieve inebriation. we're not sure, however, whether to encourage Mr Grand Pooh-bah to wear Soako Pants. but hey, comic timing is *everything*...

so what do you think?

Unholy Armies of the Night

I sent this around to a few people. Megs replied with a succinct "blogit!", which either means that i should post it here or she just said something rather nasty about my heritage in Vogon.


Boffins create zombie dogs
By Nick Buchan of NEWS.com.au June 27, 2005

Eerie ... boffins have brought dead dogs back to life, in the name of science.
SCIENTISTS have created eerie zombie dogs, reanimating the canines after several hours of clinical death in attempts to develop suspended animation for humans.US scientists have succeeded in reviving the dogs after three hours of clinical death, paving the way for trials on humans within years.
Pittsburgh's Safar Centre for Resuscitation Research has developed a technique in which subject's veins are drained of blood and filled with an ice-cold salt solution.
The animals are considered scientifically dead, as they stop breathing and have no heartbeat or brain activity.
But three hours later, their blood is replaced and the zombie dogs are brought back to life with an electric shock.
Plans to test the technique on humans should be realised within a year, according to the Safar Centre.
However rather than sending people to sleep for years, then bringing them back to life to benefit from medical advances, the boffins would be happy to keep people in this state for just a few hours,
But even this should be enough to save lives such as battlefield casualties and victims of stabbings or gunshot wounds, who have suffered huge blood loss.


During the procedure blood is replaced with saline solution at a few degrees above zero. The dogs' body temperature drops to only 7C, compared with the usual 37C, inducing a state of hypothermia before death.
Although the animals are clinically dead, their tissues and organs are perfectly preserved.
Damaged blood vessels and tissues can then be repaired via surgery. The dogs are brought back to life by returning the blood to their bodies,giving them 100 per cent oxygen and applying electric shocks to restart their hearts.
Tests show they are perfectly normal, with no brain damage.
"The results are stunning. I think in 10 years we will be able to prevent death in a certain segment of those using this technology," said one US battlefield doctor.

Once again science kicks arse to the benefit of mankind and evil overlords everywhere.

Finally saw "Shaun of the Dead" last night. A hoot and a half, i love a good zom-rom-com.