Saturday, April 24, 2004

Up Here In The North Of England

Extra points to those who get the 80s music reference. 'Tis true though - I am sat in the easyinternet cafe just off Deansgate. I have done very little so far except attempt to impose order on the chaos that is my room. The weather is highly sunny.

See you round...

Monday, April 19, 2004

Stephen O'Brien And The Blogging Cohorts

As I prepare to leave, I am informed that Timo has gone public with his blog "An Outsider's View", viewable at:

The fact that Timo deployed the word "epistemological" in his very first post amuses me vastly, for some reason.

In the interests of bandwagon-jumping, I'm also going to join in with the estimable Mr. McGrenery's "memery" game from "Mind On The Run":

1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 23.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the sentence in your journal along with these instructions.

My sentence:

"Speaking tubes are always going out of order."

Friday, April 16, 2004

Straight Outta Beckton

Yes, it's over - no more mud, bombs, snipers, whizz-bangs, or those bloody awful songs that have "whoops" in the title. Wait: that's not my job, it's the First World War. Ah well - I'm unemployed again, and I love it!

Unlike the last time I was unemployed, I'm not worried about money or finding a job. I can stalk Holborn and Bloomsbury in a carefree manner, though still being careful to avoid abandoned syringes. Better yet, I can meet up with people. But more on that later...

Monday, April 12, 2004

Easter Parade

Well, it was a busy four days over Easter, so this is going to be a brief guide to all the excitement. I spent Easter with my sister over in Chiltern. On Friday we did the “Aleister Crowley & The Golden Dawn” walk out of her Time Out book of London walks. Most of it actually only has a very tenuous Crowley connection, but the route is good, taking you all the way from Euston Station through King’s Cross, Holborn, Bloomsbury, Soho, St. James, and finally ending up at Victoria Station. A good way to see quite a lot of London.

Saturday was spent at Borough Market. I don’t know if Emily has ever been there, but there’s enough pastry on sale to keep even her happy. In the afternoon we saw the excellent Shaun of the Dead. A whole lot of zombies get taken out in the film, but by far the most satisfying aspect was the manner in which it took a bloody shovel to the shambling corpse of the British film industry. People who know me may also like to note that I am quite plainly the Dylan Moran character.

Yesterday we went off to Greenwich to see the “Tintin at Sea” exhibition at the National Maritime Museum. It’s very good if you’re into Tintin, but probably less so if you aren’t. I did learn a few choice pieces of maritime history though: who would have thought there was actually a pirate called “Calico Jack” Rackham?

Today, before coming home, I went to the Curzon Soho to see Capturing The Friedmans, a fascinating, if disturbing, American documentary. I’m not really into the platitude of “learning” from everything, but I did find the film illuminating on several issues. For example, there is ample proof here that you can document as much as you like, you still won’t be able to come up with conclusive answers to anything, merely be placed in a position where intuition has to take over. The malleability of human memory is also prominently on show: is it possible that an innocent man might, in some sense, convince himself that he’s guilty just because it seems the best option? Can he also maintain his innocence to his family because he has to? Is one of the above a performance, or are both genuine? “Thought-provoking” isn’t the word.

So, now I’m back on Green Lanes. Four more days of work, four days to enjoy London, and then off to Heaton Chapel. I ran into Yvette in Bloomsbury today, which was nice - I haven't seen her since my MA ended, so it was nice to say goodbye in person. With just over a week left, book me now…

Wednesday, April 07, 2004

New Puritan

Underneath the railway bridge on Green Lanes a poster tells me that the current issue of Maxim is a "Special Sex Edition". 'That'll make a nice change' I think to myself.

A few days ago, on a late-night tube, I was sat opposite a drunken couple who were all over each other, as couples often are. If it happens again, I may be forced to throw a bucket of water over them.

It occurs to me that at some point, and without realising, I have developed a Puritan streak a mile wide. It won't be long before I'm referring to playing cards as "the devil's picture-book", or lobbying to have all sexual activity made punishable by an on-the-spot fine of £10.

"I'm not a Puritan - I just like the Puritan look"