Not even God himself could stop me

You know the phrase, right? The one that states that you're so full of determination, so full of drive, that you dare the Lord himself to try and stop you. It's pretty ballsy, isn't it? Because if you're going to pick an opponent to call out, you don't get much bigger than God. He can seriously mess your shit up if you're not careful, he means business. You'd really be best off going more conservatively if you knew what was good for you, like 'Not even the old lady down the road could stop me', or 'Not even Nathan the friendly and helpful bloke could stop me'.

I don't think I've ever really uttered the phrase myself, and yet all the same, today I've been unfortunate enough to realise the magnitude of its challenge. For here I sit, on a train that should have left Melton twenty minutes ago, instead being told that the train has been cancelled indefinitely, and it'll be another half hour until the road coaches arrive.
For it seems that lightning has stricken signal boxes down the line, and trains are a no go.

I'm on my way to an audition, you see, and I was concerned about whether I'd get to my destination on time back when I thought things would be running as planned.

Interpret this in as many ways as you'd like, but I contemplate how hardly I've been working lately to try and launch my non-existent acting career, and now here I sit, defied by God above in my hopes to audition. Some might say it's a sign. That I should get off this train, walk home and pursue a more reasonable career in the mining profession.

I myself see this as just another obstacle in my way, and one that makes me seem grander than I really am. For though as aforementioned, I would much rather be picking fights with lesser opponents, fate has selected my enemy for me, and he holds power greater than any other. Some day, though, I'll be happy that I kept fighting, proud of the adversity that I overcame and wonderment for all that I was able to topple the mightiest challenger of all.

To you, God, I say game on.

myki likes it

There's a certain type of people who hang around train stations in the city who always garner a great deal of annoyance. They're the ones handing out flyers or brochures or whatever, always sticking it in your face and making you feel all guilty whenever you don't take it.
Well, that's the majority of them. There's another kind, and a large proportion still, who avoid giving anything to Caucasians whatsoever - one of my personal victories was walking right up to one of these people, asking for one of their precious flyers, and then marching proudly away, mightily declaring 'white power' as I left. In retrospect, I'm not sure why I did that. I'm just sick like that, I guess.

But anyhow, the point is, they're trying to get rid of the wad of papers in their hand. That's what they're paid for, that's what their angle is, and that's what their burden is. All around the stations in abundance lately, however, has emerged a new breed. Ones who come in packs of three to five, wearing bright blue shirts, and looking entirely unlike the part. For you see, they aren't actively walking towards you and trying to pass on their information about their product. Instead, they're standing around chatting to one another, simply staring down as people whiz by in large numbers. They're not approaching anyone; it's as if they're afraid that they won't have the answers, or that their product simply isn't that good at all.

That product is myki.

So after all my years of bitching and moaning, after all these years of futile train services, assault on late-night carriages, and miserable Connex staff who seem less concerned for your safety and more concerned why you bought a concession ticket, Victoria will be seeing its first real development in the public transport scene in the four years that I have been an active commuter.

I mean, good for them. It's a good idea and it ought to help shape things up a bit. I'm not about to complain about the amount of time, money and energy they used on setting up all of those myki stations about a year and a half ago that would sit there and do nothing, curiously on at all times to tell us 'NOT IN USE' (I'm sure the amount of power these stations use is minimal, but why use any at all?), or the fact that this whole project has been a shaky failure in its development process which started back in 2005.

No. I'm instead going to giddily celebrate the wonderful transport industry and my hero Lynne Kosky for ushering in a revolutionary new ticketing system. After all, every good new system needs a fair bit of tinkering, even ones that were initially set to launch in 2007. Ignoring the fact that Singapore is one place that springs to mind that has had a similar system in place since 2002, and could have been one point of reference to have sped up the process by about a year or two, I'm just so happy that this is finally happening.

And we've already got a massive supply of nervous employees on hand who are unaware of the system, who will no doubt be very useful (if they're still around on launch) in trying to explain why it is that your myki isn't working. It's the same with any electronic. It will fail, shortly after launch. It's had 'successful trials' in such bustling burgs as Ballarat and Bendigo, but you can't feasibly reason that they're anywhere near prepared for the massive impact that the Melbourne metropolitan region will bring. The extra couple years of tinkering will help, but judging by the way that train carriages are still horrendously overfilled and some busy areas like Melton still don't see frequent train services, it's clear that the transport industry still hasn't recognised how to cater towards their growing bevy of customers.

Expect the mX to be filled to the brim with complaints, expect the transport industry to brush it off as 'a minor hiccup', and expect, dare I say, for the system to be briefly pulled and Metcards to be hastily ushered back in for a short period of time while they try and work out what the hell is going wrong.

Press reports indicate we should expect myki in five days. Funny then, how other than a few blue-shirted dweebs who appear frightened and mute, we've had no indication about this happening. If they're filled with confidence about this system, shouldn't it be plastered up everywhere? Shouldn't everyone be made aware of the exciting world of myki?

When Kosky came under fire for the delayed implimination of the system back in 2007, she said that it was a complicated system and it was "important to get it right". Unfortunately for us frequent commuters, I'd be hard-pressed to think of anything that's been done in the last few years of public transport that I would consider something they "got right".

Hooked on a feelin'

Bein's believin'

That you're in love with meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

I'm hooked on acid. I mean a feeling. I mean a feelin'. One of those, I suppose. Dagnabbit, here I am rambling again with only the title 'Hooked on a feelin'' to work with. Perhaps my stream of consciousness will once again get me out of trouble? Actually, that's highly unlikely. Last time I relied on that, I got a Zamburu tribesman and Dick Dastardly beating on women. What does my stream of consciousness provide me with this time?

Gimme a tick... THE LEGEND OF ZELDA: A LINK TO THE PAST.

Yup. That's what my feeble little brain could muster. A Super Nintendo game from nearly twenty years ago. Good game, innit?

This weather is mighty atrocious, might I say; I really don't understand this fascination for warm weather. I mean, besides the fact that it's healthy and allows us all to go outside... Ah damn, that's the problem. I'm unhealthy and I don't go outdoors. I'm like anti...human? Scary thought.

ZOMBIFIED TONY

TONY ZOMBIE

TONBIE

You know what I'm thankful for right at this moment? The ability to touch type. Absolutely fantastic, I pity all those who are without it. I don't profess to have a great deal of muscular recognition, but in this case, I do. Let me hit letters as I like. The letter B! It's mine! The letter Q! That's an easy one! The letter R! Him's my favourite.

In unrelated news, the Titans won again today. Isn't it fantabulous to see that my boys from 2008 have decided to finally show up and play ball? Bit late now, but let's send some waves through the league!

I also like the fact that I felt the need to clarify that that was unrelated news. As though you wouldn't realise that Titans football and my favourite letter R are unrelated topics.

Right. I'm pulling the plug on this now.

The forgotten month

Thank god for Movember. If it wasn't for the yearly showing of facial hair, November really wouldn't have much to its name. It suffers from the same complex that Uranus did back when Pluto was still a planet; it's not quite the end of the year, just the forgotten segway until we get to the very end.

Sure, the US shows it some pity and throws Thanksgiving Day its way, but that's a moot point here in the land of Australia. We have nothing to give thanks for. Our harvest is shit. Our turkeys are hardly moist. And whether it be in sheer spite for its mere mention, or because I'm very forgetful, not ONCE have I celebrated Thanksgiving Day in Animal Crossing. Perhaps I should though. My house is full of cockroaches and dinosaur bones, and could really do with some new furniture.

INSANE

How would you define an energy drink that is INSANE?
Would it change its name so 'they' couldn't find it? Would the voices in its head tell it that one energy shot wasn't enough? Would it feature 500 ml of INSANITY?

Well mine certainly does. In the weird, wacky world of energy drinks, making your mark can't be easy. Pretty much any energetic additive under the sun has been done before, nothing is new and exciting, and other than a few different flavours of intensity, very little is going to surprise me. Well, except maybe an energy drink loaded with ecstasy. Now that'd be insane.

I'm not expecting a whole lot from Mr. Insane here. Other than the garish logo that reminds me of The Evil Dead's book of the dead, they're not offering me much to feel insane about. Also, under the bold heading of 'Insane Energy', they've tacked on a rather conservative label of 'juice drink'. So 'insane juice' it is, then? Insane that it doesn't have 20% real apples, and I'm not drinking it from a box with a straw?

Upon tasting, you're hit with a surge, ie. Mother Surge. Nothing terribly new, I'm afraid. The taste sensation is familiar and safe, and though I was first excited by the hardcore death metal that mysteriously commenced upon tasting, I soon realised that this was coming from the headphones of the kid nearby on the train carriage. I suppose he's sacrificing his hearing to increase my insane ambience.
Every sip I take hardly feels insane. Perhaps I'm not doing this right? Or is the insane label a misnomer? Is it just easier to market than 'MILD Energy Juice Drink'? I feel maybe a little bit more energetic, slightly pensive about B vitamins, and with a longing to listen to Billy Joel. I don't think that's quite the desired effect. ...I also accidentally dunked one of my iPod headphones into the drink. I suppose that's a little insane.

To its credit, for the first couple minutes after I drank it, I did feel fairly energetic. Though you could pin that on the Kenyan mocha I had this morning or the fact that I ate an entire ice cream cake yesterday, these notions are boring to me. I'll instead give full credit to the 500 MLS OF INSANITY I consumed.

On another note, it was also pleasing to swish around in my mouth like a pretentious wine critic.

FINAL GRADE: Passable. Nothing new, but nothing horrible, either.