Then ... The date? June 28, 1974. The place? The arse-end of the Southern Hemisphere. Enter stage-left: a weird ovoid-headed kid whose parents ended up calling David John Pannett. Which just happened to endow him with the same initials as one of his grandmothers. Which is a nice, albeit probably unintentional, thing to do ya know?
That particular day in the calendar is mildly interesting in the historical shape of things: the Treaty of Versailles was signed on it in 1919 and the Stonewall Riots occured on it in 1969. However it's also the birthdate of some spectacularly boring celebrites: Mary Stuart Masterson (ate too many fried green tomatoes), Pat Morita (catching flies in the great beyond) and John Cusack (now we're getting somewhere). So, would the child be destined for greatness? The omens appeared mixed.
Flash forward a few years. My childhood was spent in suburban bliss in an ever-changing combination of brown knitted jumpers and brown corduroy flares, as small boys in the 1970s tended to be dressed. Growing up also consisted of a couple of major family moves: from a small town close to one lot of relatives, to a smaller town near the other lot of relatives, and back again in the mid-80s. I was three when my sister was born. She was on the receiving end of a fair amount of teasing as she grew up, but then again so was the cat.
They say high school years are the best of your life and they're probably right for the most part. My five years were marked by good grades, good friends and an initiation into the rigours of weekend socialising from an early age. House parties of various styles and levels of deportment rapidly became the norm and I was one of only a handful of people who seemed to throw them (thank you Mum and Dad for your frequent weekend trips away). People seemed to have a good time. The fact that I remain close to the majority of them probably means they did.
When it all came to a close, most of our school mob moved a few hours north to Dunedin, to partake in that great institution known as tertiary learning. And who was I to buck the trend? Upon arrival, most of the aforementioned habits were continued with a vengeance. Time passes. Graduating with Law and Arts degrees five years later, I then undertook nearly two years of work, researching trends in New Zealand employment law (no, it was interesting) and squirrelling sufficient dollars away to placate Her Majesty's Immigration & Nationality Directorate on the other side of the globe.
Cash finally together and working holiday-maker visa clutched tightly in hand (coming from a former colony definitely has its advantages), I upped and left the green green grass of home in March 2000 for a two-year stint in England. Fortunately, IT work for barely skilled migrants was still plentiful and I coded my little heart out for "the man" while earning enough to take the odd side-trip to various exotic European locales. The spare change went on exploring a good chunk of the frustratingly maddening - yet always invigorating - city they call London. The steady accumulation of friends also continued, much to my perpetual delight and amusement.
... and now
hairline) So now you're pretty much up to speed. I had a blast travelling around Europe and the States in the middle part of 2002 - seeing all the sites, meeting lots of brilliant people and basically having the best time an average guy can on this fair planet. I've been calling our nation's capital home since mid-2002, working for a large Government department (in a totally non-covert manner) and carving out a niche for myself here. Wellington's a wonderful place and you should really visit it sometime. More travel lies ahead in 2006 - a two month trip, revisiting the old London haunts with a North American jaunt and a stint in South America thrown in for good measure. Unencumbrance is a wonderful thing, even if it isn't a real word.
Right, now that I've got that out of the way, time for a little background on this here site. I've been polluting the web at large for over a decade now and things certainly have changed online in that time (back when I were a lad, etc etc). I've moved from the uninspired "david pannett's web*site" (original!) through to "cortex" (getting better) and finally to "brainsluice" (that psychology degree had to get an airing somehow).
These pages were woven on a loom by a crack team of trained baboons in a small warehouse in Upper Volta. They'd prefer it if you didn't steal any of their work unless you ask their handler first. Unlike him, they do bite.