Right, that explains everything.
Excepting Korea's answer to Britney....
21 August 2006
19 August 2006
Oh No!
I can speak Korean!
Oh No!
Banana!
Cola!
Coffee!
(See, told you so!)
The following is strangely addictive, but not to worry, I did notice that the blogosphere was my virtual reality and emotional hermit's retreat; the salve on the scraped knees of my ego and even my alternative to chain smoking (which I no longer do).
The fact that it is/was also my panacea for the urge to experience other destructive behaviours such as matricide is probably what prompted this moment of weakness and the resultant two posts in a day, after I was doing so well; but lets not go there.
Just sit in a corner, rocking slightly, whilst repeatedly watching the attached video. With any luck it won't be long before the look on your face, like mine, is as enthusiastically vacant as the look on the faces of the; what are they; milk drips?
Enjoy.
Oh No!
Banana!
Cola!
Coffee!
(See, told you so!)
The following is strangely addictive, but not to worry, I did notice that the blogosphere was my virtual reality and emotional hermit's retreat; the salve on the scraped knees of my ego and even my alternative to chain smoking (which I no longer do).
The fact that it is/was also my panacea for the urge to experience other destructive behaviours such as matricide is probably what prompted this moment of weakness and the resultant two posts in a day, after I was doing so well; but lets not go there.
Just sit in a corner, rocking slightly, whilst repeatedly watching the attached video. With any luck it won't be long before the look on your face, like mine, is as enthusiastically vacant as the look on the faces of the; what are they; milk drips?
Enjoy.
Happy Birthday Sweetpea!
Ten today.
Scary.
My favourite quote; Daughter on the phone to a relative today:
"Oh yes, its my tenth birthday. I've reached double digits; the big one-O!"
Scary.
My favourite quote; Daughter on the phone to a relative today:
"Oh yes, its my tenth birthday. I've reached double digits; the big one-O!"
10 August 2006
Major Terrorist Plot
...or, to quote one respectable, studio-bound UK news reporter - "Major terrorist plot, allegedly".*
I'm not awake yet. I refuse to castigate my own mind for the way it was working this morning, as it tried to make sense of the avalanche of information. Here are a few of the thoughts it considered:
*Even the BBC website is making full use of inverted commas, it seems.
I'm not awake yet. I refuse to castigate my own mind for the way it was working this morning, as it tried to make sense of the avalanche of information. Here are a few of the thoughts it considered:
- Clear plastic bags; like when you sit school exams.
- Blimey that was a close escape.
- West London? They mean Southall.
- At least maybe they mean airport employees; cleaners and people with back door keys.
- Oh so it wasn't necessarily planned for today, then?
- We've been through this before.
- So why has the news been on the same subject for a solid hour?
- Anyway I can kind of imagine the politics/rationalisation/fervent frustration behind a plan like that.
- I wonder if its true.
- I wonder how long its going to take Blair to use this as a way to hurry ID cards or get more powers for himself.
- I wonder if this is all for show and he's banking on people agreeing to anything sooner than having to queue and give up their mobile phones.
- I wonder if I should stay glued to theyworkforyou, or to the inside pages of the papers, to see what they'll try and slide into law /generally get way with while we're not looking........
*Even the BBC website is making full use of inverted commas, it seems.
08 August 2006
Lighting things up.
I was going to do a picture, of little lights starting, each a fiery droplet shot forth from the master flame, kind of like napalm or flaming mucor so that every new mini-fire is attached in some way to the origin.
Yet each appears separate from the next.
The thing is, if you concentrate not on the flame but on the light, if the light, ie lighting up a new area is actually the whole purpose, then it is a GOOD thing when the glow from two little sparks crosses over.
No spark can take glory for being the source of illumination, when all that matters is that there is more illumination. Kind of like a hundred fireflies in a jam jar - its pointless saying one fly is brighter or more special than the next, in fact the only thing to do is marvel at the quality of the light, express awe at nature herself; the total, not the individual, although each is essential and special as part of the whole.
Lets face it, if any one of those fireflies had actually begun life hoping for recognition for trying harder, for glowing brighter or more righteously, or simply for being fatter or born in a better part of the swamp than others in the jar - he or she would bescrewed sadly disappointed. Yes?
I was going to paint that picture, but then I got involved in checking my facts.
See Jesus is a very handy fella (don't puke yet, let me make my point) - most religions recognise him as a prophet, most people with a philosophy but no 'religion' (ie nothing involving a deity) would still claim many of his sayings, pointing out that he must have been spiritualist, or in tune with the principles of NLP, or walking around using myofascial healing (or other such); on account of how, compared against all of these realities, his words still make (common) sense.
Truth is like that - you can get your knickers in a twist about where truth comes from and what it means about the unseen nature of the universe, but you just cant argue that its not true.
Anyway, theres this Jesus bloke and he's talking.
Christians forget that he never once addressed his words to them, as a faction, (they didnt exist yet). He didnt often address just Jews either, especially not when he faced a crowd. Syrians, Romans, all sorts were milling about. His country was under occupation, as were the ones in the surrounding area - communications were wide open and cultures mixed, and lets face it a floor show is a floor show. Some bloke the neighbours said could do magic is worth a look, irrespective of religion.
So you have to face the fact that when he addressed the multitude in Matthew 5, even waiting for the disciples to be seated, in a pointed 'you too' kind of a way, and said 'You are the light of the world', he meant people. Not Christians, not Jews, just people. Families with their packed lunch hoping to see a bit of a show. The local police there to make sure nothing kicked off. The bored yobby youths there hoping that something would kick off. The intellectuals, the religously pious, the ones that had a vested interest in playing spot the loony fake messiah (they got through a few of those and they always made a mess). Mostly the aforementioned families, and desperate people with no money for doctors (no jobs, no income, bit of a BO problem - you get the picture). But he said it to every single one. You are the light of the world.
We have the power to light up this earth, or to segregate our wisdom, our healing gift, our version of the truth - to encase it in a 'measuring basket' so it lights just so much 'select area' and no more.
How many of us want to shine fiercely and true, to make a difference in this world and be part of the solution?
How many shone once and got looked at funny, or ostracised, and now keep hope and imagination and sparkle as something to hide?
How many of us want to put in a few walls, for fear that our light might be tainted by the light from the candle next door? Or fear that onlookers might praise God for the 'wrong' light? Or fear that we have no business shining in the first place?
How many more desperately want to be magical, special, separate, so keep their light as a (well advertised) holy secret, or one where a potential viewer must pay an admission charge?
You are the light of the world and the salt of the earth (or at very least you are made in the image of God and you have the capacity to be those things, I can't see from here if you are shining or not). So, however, is the soul next door; the one with the weird religion, the one at work that smells, the one that was drunk on the bus stop this morning and the stupid one that you sometimes laugh at. So was the guy up the road that died in his flat and never got found for weeks.
And so am I.
And if all that makes you feel a little crowded, like your space is being invaded, well hey, I guess you feel comfy under a 'measuring basket (bushel) after all, even if you never knew it was there.
Yet each appears separate from the next.
The thing is, if you concentrate not on the flame but on the light, if the light, ie lighting up a new area is actually the whole purpose, then it is a GOOD thing when the glow from two little sparks crosses over.
No spark can take glory for being the source of illumination, when all that matters is that there is more illumination. Kind of like a hundred fireflies in a jam jar - its pointless saying one fly is brighter or more special than the next, in fact the only thing to do is marvel at the quality of the light, express awe at nature herself; the total, not the individual, although each is essential and special as part of the whole.
Lets face it, if any one of those fireflies had actually begun life hoping for recognition for trying harder, for glowing brighter or more righteously, or simply for being fatter or born in a better part of the swamp than others in the jar - he or she would be
I was going to paint that picture, but then I got involved in checking my facts.
See Jesus is a very handy fella (don't puke yet, let me make my point) - most religions recognise him as a prophet, most people with a philosophy but no 'religion' (ie nothing involving a deity) would still claim many of his sayings, pointing out that he must have been spiritualist, or in tune with the principles of NLP, or walking around using myofascial healing (or other such); on account of how, compared against all of these realities, his words still make (common) sense.
Truth is like that - you can get your knickers in a twist about where truth comes from and what it means about the unseen nature of the universe, but you just cant argue that its not true.
Anyway, theres this Jesus bloke and he's talking.
Christians forget that he never once addressed his words to them, as a faction, (they didnt exist yet). He didnt often address just Jews either, especially not when he faced a crowd. Syrians, Romans, all sorts were milling about. His country was under occupation, as were the ones in the surrounding area - communications were wide open and cultures mixed, and lets face it a floor show is a floor show. Some bloke the neighbours said could do magic is worth a look, irrespective of religion.
So you have to face the fact that when he addressed the multitude in Matthew 5, even waiting for the disciples to be seated, in a pointed 'you too' kind of a way, and said 'You are the light of the world', he meant people. Not Christians, not Jews, just people. Families with their packed lunch hoping to see a bit of a show. The local police there to make sure nothing kicked off. The bored yobby youths there hoping that something would kick off. The intellectuals, the religously pious, the ones that had a vested interest in playing spot the loony fake messiah (they got through a few of those and they always made a mess). Mostly the aforementioned families, and desperate people with no money for doctors (no jobs, no income, bit of a BO problem - you get the picture). But he said it to every single one. You are the light of the world.
We have the power to light up this earth, or to segregate our wisdom, our healing gift, our version of the truth - to encase it in a 'measuring basket' so it lights just so much 'select area' and no more.
How many of us want to shine fiercely and true, to make a difference in this world and be part of the solution?
How many shone once and got looked at funny, or ostracised, and now keep hope and imagination and sparkle as something to hide?
How many of us want to put in a few walls, for fear that our light might be tainted by the light from the candle next door? Or fear that onlookers might praise God for the 'wrong' light? Or fear that we have no business shining in the first place?
How many more desperately want to be magical, special, separate, so keep their light as a (well advertised) holy secret, or one where a potential viewer must pay an admission charge?
You are the light of the world and the salt of the earth (or at very least you are made in the image of God and you have the capacity to be those things, I can't see from here if you are shining or not). So, however, is the soul next door; the one with the weird religion, the one at work that smells, the one that was drunk on the bus stop this morning and the stupid one that you sometimes laugh at. So was the guy up the road that died in his flat and never got found for weeks.
And so am I.
And if all that makes you feel a little crowded, like your space is being invaded, well hey, I guess you feel comfy under a 'measuring basket (bushel) after all, even if you never knew it was there.
05 August 2006
Brighton!
Went to Brighton today, just to do some shopping, and completely kitted the 11 year old out in 3 pairs of nafnaf baggy surfer shorts and four slogan teeshirts, all for £16.
So he wasn't the one we went shopping for, so finding things on our intended list was perjury even though unplanned purchases for son just jumped up in front of us screaming bargain; so what?
The wonderful thing is that we also picked the 'wrong day' to go shopping and had ten times more fun than we had planned.
Specifically we managed to arrive in Brighton just as the buses were detouring in readiness for the Gay Pride parade. Boy was I sorry we left the camera at home! It was wonderful!
Stiltwalkers, drag queens, nurses with beards, people dressed as Pharoahs, Cleopatras and mummies, lorry after lorry dragging flatbed backs, tarted up to the nines to a Carry On theme. Wonderful, wonderful disco music pounding out from every new themed zone, people waving and smiling and just so pleased and proud to be getting smiles back!
Thanks to Jo I am a little more aware of the fears and sensitivities that have to be conquered before some dare be themselves, even just for a little while, to have simple clean fun in this way. My heart goes out to those with a permanent lump in their throat (through a side of themselves that means so very much to them being too long and too harshly suppressed).
It was especially lovely, then, to see the 'men' who dared to wear drag yet chose full makeup as a sort of camouflage, such as the person who dressed as Queen Elizabeth I; and to admire the sheepish transvestites who decorously and discretely turned up amongst the audience, tucked into a corner here and there, all showing the contrast between needing to be themselves and equally not needing or wanting mass attention.
I thought of you, Jo, so I have a proposition.
My home is up the coast - a long bus ride or an expensive taxi between me and the city, but I have one or two friends (of varying genders) in Brighton and was thinking maybe you, me and Doris could make a whole day of it this time next year, even if that means getting tarted up ready in the loos of a gay bar!
Second thoughts, we could always scrounge changing room (and a drop of courage?) from Lady Muck?
Double dare - If all three of you are up for this, I'll turn up in a nun's outfit with the arse cut out.
Or not.
Knowing Jo, of all four of us I would say she's far too ladylike for that sort of exhibitionism......
So he wasn't the one we went shopping for, so finding things on our intended list was perjury even though unplanned purchases for son just jumped up in front of us screaming bargain; so what?
The wonderful thing is that we also picked the 'wrong day' to go shopping and had ten times more fun than we had planned.
Specifically we managed to arrive in Brighton just as the buses were detouring in readiness for the Gay Pride parade. Boy was I sorry we left the camera at home! It was wonderful!
Stiltwalkers, drag queens, nurses with beards, people dressed as Pharoahs, Cleopatras and mummies, lorry after lorry dragging flatbed backs, tarted up to the nines to a Carry On theme. Wonderful, wonderful disco music pounding out from every new themed zone, people waving and smiling and just so pleased and proud to be getting smiles back!
Thanks to Jo I am a little more aware of the fears and sensitivities that have to be conquered before some dare be themselves, even just for a little while, to have simple clean fun in this way. My heart goes out to those with a permanent lump in their throat (through a side of themselves that means so very much to them being too long and too harshly suppressed).
It was especially lovely, then, to see the 'men' who dared to wear drag yet chose full makeup as a sort of camouflage, such as the person who dressed as Queen Elizabeth I; and to admire the sheepish transvestites who decorously and discretely turned up amongst the audience, tucked into a corner here and there, all showing the contrast between needing to be themselves and equally not needing or wanting mass attention.
I thought of you, Jo, so I have a proposition.
My home is up the coast - a long bus ride or an expensive taxi between me and the city, but I have one or two friends (of varying genders) in Brighton and was thinking maybe you, me and Doris could make a whole day of it this time next year, even if that means getting tarted up ready in the loos of a gay bar!
Second thoughts, we could always scrounge changing room (and a drop of courage?) from Lady Muck?
Double dare - If all three of you are up for this, I'll turn up in a nun's outfit with the arse cut out.
Or not.
Knowing Jo, of all four of us I would say she's far too ladylike for that sort of exhibitionism......
03 August 2006
02 August 2006
Don Quixote
Or at least Don Quixote as portrayed by Cervantes, as himself portrayed in the 1970s movie, Man of La Mancha; but what the hell.
We judge each other most harshly, it seems, when one of us takes a stand; when one sets out to defend all that is pure and good, yet others see this as a pointless, futile or even ridiculous exercise.
Perhaps we carry the schoolyard with us all our lives. Perhaps we will always be intent upon conformity and acceptance, and for that far too quick to point and laugh when someone else, innocently or deliberately, stands apart.
Then again, perhaps when life forces us to watch what we don't want to see; when someone else's bravery would be too completely embarrassing for us to contemplate (let alone emulate), perhaps we scurry for emotional cover by vehemently denying that we feel any sympathy at all. Not really laughers, then, but liars. Willing to sacrifice someone else so that we should not be seen as prey.
Is it better to be with or without dreams?
Who is more foolish, the fool, or the fool that mocks him?
I have no idea, or at least the ideas I get seem to change with the weather. Perhaps heroism and idiocy are flip sides of the same coin, with the label decided by history.
THIS goes out to 266k (complete with bad singing and very British accent, God Bless Peter O'Toole!)
"But maddest of all -- to see life as it is, and not as it should be."
We judge each other most harshly, it seems, when one of us takes a stand; when one sets out to defend all that is pure and good, yet others see this as a pointless, futile or even ridiculous exercise.
Perhaps we carry the schoolyard with us all our lives. Perhaps we will always be intent upon conformity and acceptance, and for that far too quick to point and laugh when someone else, innocently or deliberately, stands apart.
Then again, perhaps when life forces us to watch what we don't want to see; when someone else's bravery would be too completely embarrassing for us to contemplate (let alone emulate), perhaps we scurry for emotional cover by vehemently denying that we feel any sympathy at all. Not really laughers, then, but liars. Willing to sacrifice someone else so that we should not be seen as prey.
Is it better to be with or without dreams?
Who is more foolish, the fool, or the fool that mocks him?
I have no idea, or at least the ideas I get seem to change with the weather. Perhaps heroism and idiocy are flip sides of the same coin, with the label decided by history.
THIS goes out to 266k (complete with bad singing and very British accent, God Bless Peter O'Toole!)
"But maddest of all -- to see life as it is, and not as it should be."
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