bedlam updates

I have been writing and deleting what I write for hours now and have achieved a very strong sense of being trapped in my own head. Every sentence I tap out is a prisoner calling for help that will never come. I will point out that I am writing this in my nice home and could go outside and be somewhere good if I wanted but it is very important that I invest the story of my failure to achieve an interesting thought with some kind of dramatic oomph. Several hours ago I was quietly confident I would have a testament to my brilliance done and dusted by days end, but as the sun sinks towards  the horizon I know all is lost and I have wasted an entire day of my life typing shitty words and flushing them. Woe is me! I have given my all and been rewarded with ashes. Even my inner child scorns me. This is fucked and I don't like it. Doesn't my creativity know I live in a capitalist system that requires that I provide a constant stream of online content? How can I build an audience

Yesterday I made a video reacting to the Nauru Files, the main idea of which was that if Australians don't pay close enough attention to the news, the Australian news will always be bad. When I was a kid I noticed the Adults weren't big on telling the truth. Anything of troubling significance was seemingly automatically lied about. And when I say lie, I mean flat out denied. There was an impenetrable wall of impatience around any and all events of importance. Both sides of the family were Catholic, so there's the obvious going on there, but I reckon it's also national. This is a nation of cover-ups. A while back me and a partner in not believing this country is for real had a drink with a couple of mates who were absolute in their impatience with any talk of this country's origins. My partner and I in, apparently, crime, did a lot of making goggling boggling significant eye contact as we tried to comprehend why people with no history of being political were vigo

Today is not a bad day weather wise and I forgive myself for wanting to burn Australia to the ground. Files have been leaked detailing what happens to actual real live kids when you put them in a detention centre on a very remote island. Well done Australia, you're very special. In Australia, real live adults take time to moan that they're laughed at when they play Pokemon Go. Okay, I'm sorry for shoehorning Pokemon Go into this, but when I ride my bike along the creek to think about stuff like our detention centres in surroundings that will stop me from killing myself, there's this spot where grown adults gather to block the shared walk/cycle way with their amazingly toned bodies (teehee! not really!) and I have to do this thing with my face where I don't let on that they shit me because passive aggressive consumer Aussies love it when you do that because it means they are being bullied and are therefore pretty much freedom fighters. Australia could use

In which I mention the Olympics. Full disclosure: yesterday I learned an American boy's life was claimed by the world's largest water slide and I made no attempt to not find that funny, nor will I unless challenged by a parent whose offspring was killed by the world's largest water slide. Also: yesterday I learned a guy drew a cute picture for every one of the 365 days of a year with his beloved lady and I found that as horrible as some misguided fools would the thought of a 10 year old boy decoupling from a fun ride so hard his head came right off. His head came off guys. If that doesn't cheer you up you've lost touch with your inner child and are probably imagining an elaborate proposal to your partner that will appear on Youtube to make millions of people vomit themselves inside out.       The Olympics are upon us and I am grateful, for though I have no interest in the event I am bombarded with tales of weeping losers and excellent injuries whether I want them

I made a video today that does my thing of either joining the dots or drawing a very long bow, depending on your point of view. I've been thinking about points of view and how they change in a person based on new information, or from person to person based on which one them actually reads a fucking book occasionally. Today, while I was doing my version of reading, which is scrolling the news trying to work out how many days civilisation has left, I saw that a woman in China had stepped out a car in a zoo and immediately been killed by a tiger. I can't say I was deeply hurt by this news. She didn't bother to read great big signs saying, "Warning: actual Tigers", and I assume also tuned out any noises dripping with the same bloody information. I thought this news was a great example of just how wrapped up in our lives we can be, to the point of completely not bothering to stay alive in a place where there are tigers. I connected this to Australian leaking vessel o

So I tried and failed to read an open letter to "The Left" from people calling themselves "The Left". How amazing that I found it possible to look at dozens of people crushed by a vehicle in Nice this morning but what these champs had to say not only made me close my laptop, but I know I will never read it. It's too triggering lol high fives all round. It had to happen sooner or later, identity politics had to disappear so far up it's own arse that following the logic is a hero's mission through an idiot sewer. The bit I did manage to force down was that "Progressives need to acknowledge that all politics is identity politics" or some such burning garbage. So all real world events must be strained through an identity politics filter? And the people demanding this are educated enough to know about filters? But too precious to absorb that there can't be a theory on Earth that explains everything and that attempts to find one are a doomed

We live in a world where terror attacks can happen anywhere and we can look at the latest footage on a device over breakfast. Pretty swell huh? Of all the rad things we can do here in the future, that's got to be the the raddest. My girlfriend made this wild muesli and I was tucking into that and looking at people who had the blood squashed out of them and a guy came on the radio and then things went from offensively horrific to dangerously puerile. He started talking about burkas. There's a few possible reactions to a terror attack, my favourite is to find the worst footage and look at it and shed a tear while I'm chewing home made muesli. Why? Because it's a mass murder and humans aren't actually built to have any normal response to that shit, so fuck it. What I definitely don't do is call up talkback radio to complain that we have a security problem that is somehow linked to burkas. When 9/11 happened, mainstream media handed the megaphone to experts who

I was thinking about the latest horrific videos of American police murdering people and wondering why they always make me want to kill cops by bashing their fucking skulls in with a brick until there's just a pancake of hair, teeth, skin and brains and then taking off my clothes and wiping shattered cop head all over my naked body and- well, I say naked, but I'd put on the belt and holster thingy or whatever it's called and steal their pigwagon and go on a cop hunt, shooting the fucking dogs in the face, collecting weapons as I go until I'm holed up in a police station sitting on a pile of the useless dead fucks and I'd live stream me laughing and bathing in their blood and juggling their severed limbs and people would see this and realise that while I've got the cops distracted (because they always get upset and take it personally when you slaughter their fuckwit buddies) now would be a good time for the people to ninja over the fences of the rich and silently

Yesterday I'm trying to pull a star stake out of the garden and power-wiggling it back and forth and all I have to show for that attempt is a very sore left forearm so that's just great. Injured restoring this place to it's former glory. Brilliant. There is no escaping the suckness of moving house but at least this time the garden and shed clean-up is taking days, not weeks. Last place we moved from, the pile of rubbish I created in the process looked like people could eke out a living fossicking through it. We are simplifying. We're getting rid of everything we can. At this point I'm so sick of moving house that I resent everything I own. Thanks for weighing us down, books! If I had my way we'd lose all of them. There's nothing like spending huge amounts of time with packing tape to kill the magic of fuckface fucking books. A while back I threw out mountains of CDs and DVDs. I didn't donate them, I chucked them, because those technologies never wo

Spent Saturday breathing dead-spider dust in the shed and needed something to take the edge off. Discovered a podcast called The Dollop . Gave me an idea for a podcast, which I started Sunday. It's not very good, but it's a start and it's called Showercast . I am fixated on putting the least amount of effort into online content. If you're going to call it horrible words like "content" I am going to underextend myself to hang onto my dignity, thanks. You're welcome. I think I burned out making six  Sean Bedlam Episode episodes in a 24 hour period last week. I will assume that was a very short period of mild mania. The nextpisode will happen shortly, emphasis on "happen" because I am merely a conduit for my own brilliance, which I do own, so why am I giving it away for free online? Went out to do a stand up spot last night and felt something lock into place. That's right, I got a comedy stiffy. Did that for free too. Been hanging my arse

I'm feeling very clever, I'm making the big calls, I cannot be stopped because I'm a cheeky monkey. I have a shed in total chaos and I'm supposed to be sorting that out tomorrow but I know that if all I have to look forward to is that shit I'll lie in bed paralysed by the seeming endlessness of life. No. What I'm gonna do is start that shed today so tomorrow I wake up high fiving the fucking shit out of myself. Fuck you shed. You live in my backyard and you reckon you can judge me? Get a grip champ! I can see you coming a mile away! You know what else? I'm going to listen to podcasts while I backhand that shed across it's smart face so it won't even feel like work. It'll be more like fun! Fuck off, shed! We're moving house, which brings up issues like, "Please kill me" and "Why am I still alive". They say of moving house that, well, I'm not even going to repeat it because it's the most depressing statement

I started making ranting phone videos about ten years ago and the worst thing I ever did was listen to my audience. The comment feature on Youtube meant people could get into my head whether they were trying to or not and it didn't help me to grow as a person one little bit. Imagine hundreds of randos giving you advice and you have an idea of the confusion in the centre of my head at the time. It wasn't just advice, it was abuse and weirdly too intimate questions about my mental health. It was one nasty comment from someone who clearly knew me from real life and was angry at me, who then disappeared with me none the wiser, but slightly more paranoid. The very first time I flipped open my new phone and saw that there was a camera I had the idea that I took to the internet and shared. Ranting videos, built one sentence at a time so they had a power and a ridiculousness that could not be denied. I knew what I was doing pretty much instantly. But as soon as I started the commen

So I'm out riding my bicycle and I stop at an intersection and there's a kid with a toy sword throwing a major tantrum. His dad is being super reasonable but after two seconds of myself wanting to punch this three year old's head into orbit I'm wondering why dad doesn't scream shut up! shut up! shut up! into the kid's face until it's a mask of saliva. Of course dad wants to be reasonable and do it all by the Parenting book. By the way, great word, Parenting, makes its sounds like a cluster of skills instead of people making shit up. Anyway, what with dad being reasonable, this kid is going to grow into a massive adult sized turd. And who gives a toy sword to a kid with anger management issues? And what's a three year old doing having anger issues? Life tough little buddy? Had to play all day for the 1,068th day running? Yeah. Brutal. It felt good to hate this child and know in my heart the only way he'll ever be a decent human is if his parents die

This is a purge. Don't read if you're feeling fragile. So some people fight mental illness and some people seem to give up and blame everyone else and among those who fight, the fighting isn't consistent or heroic, it just is what it is. Knew a guy who had HIV and he wrote a song that pointed out talk of his being brave was a load of shit when the fact is nobody wants to die. "It's amazing that you haven't given up." It's amazing that you think that's an option. Maybe some people are just more whipped than others. Maybe people who mythologise those who don't give up do so because their imaginations are so paper thin that fairy tales are all they can come up with. People talk an incredible load of shit about anxiety and depression these days. Climate change? Robots taking our jobs? Asteroid Trump? And you feel anxious? Oh god why? I wonder if there's a reason, you inward looking stump of humanity. Even though I've been through me

When I got news of a 20th anniversary high school reunion there was zero fucking risk of me going because a) I was a marginalised unit back then, so the idea of hanging out with people who weren't interested in hanging out with me felt like mild child abuse of my adult self and b) I felt I had nothing to report. What am I going to say? "I have tried lots of things and bailed on them as soon as they got good because I am not emotionally equipped to have a good time. I mean, I think I'm getting better, but I strongly suspect the mental health system has let me down quite badly and have no real idea how fucked in the head I might be right now. How are you? I probably don't care because I'm an artist and you're not and I have purposely lived in an arty farty bubble since I was 21 and have zero ability to feign interest in normal people's lives. It's the price I pay for only ever being around people who want to be stars. Look, I'm too a) fucked up and