The Vol-in-Law is playing a PC game right now called Brothers in Arms. It's a kind of computer game version of Band of Brothers or Saving Private Ryan. Paratroopers, Normandy, WWII, you know the kind of thing. I think the Vol-in-Law is trying to kill a lot of Computer-Krauts, but mostly he's jumping back from the PC as his character is killed - again. The game is pretty realistic apparently and depicts the Normandy villages as they were - and largely as they still are.
We're going to Normandy next week. I have a high tolerance for battlefields and cemeteries and war museums and such. And I want to see Omaha Beach as much as the next girl, but the Vol-in-Law can spend hours, I mean hours, in these places. To me, when you've seen one display of medals, you've seen them all. But the ViL will read every description, look at every batallion photo, and examine every piece of old artillery. On our first trip together, I think we visited every podunk regimental museum in Wales.
He just pointed at the screen and said - "You see that, where that building is. In Carentan, there's a war museum in that very spot."
"I suppose we'll have to go there, too." I said.
"Oh, yeah."
Thursday, August 31, 2006
Scream again
A couple of years ago, on our epic voyage across Scandinavia, we visited Oslo and the big museum there. We were going to see Edvard Munch's The Scream. But we couldn't. Because the museum was closed that day. I pressed my little disappointed face against the locked doors. The other exhibit I wanted to see in central Oslo museum was the Christian Leden ethnographic collection (his memoir Across the Keewatin Icefields is one of the best books I've ever read) but just months before our visit the collection had been sent to Toronto - permanently. So, we went off to see the shed museum of Norway instead. If you like sheds - they got 'em.
About six weeks later, The Scream was stolen from the museum. I thought I'd never get the chance to see it for real. I felt like art thieves and the museum board of Oslo had conspired against me ever seeing that painting. But now it's back.
Checking the story, I now also see that we didn't actually go to the right museum. We went to this one. The Scream was housed at this one and it's open on Mondays. Two years later and Norway's joy is my d'oh.
Screamy guy realises he went to the wrong museum
About six weeks later, The Scream was stolen from the museum. I thought I'd never get the chance to see it for real. I felt like art thieves and the museum board of Oslo had conspired against me ever seeing that painting. But now it's back.Checking the story, I now also see that we didn't actually go to the right museum. We went to this one. The Scream was housed at this one and it's open on Mondays. Two years later and Norway's joy is my d'oh.
Screamy guy realises he went to the wrong museum
Crime pays
So I've got this new mp3 player, and I'm filling it up in advance of our road trip in France. I'd spent many a wet and wintry afternoon copying CDs I'd paid for onto the old PC and I wanted to retrieve my music. Meanwhile, we got a new PC. So I got the Vol-in-Law to hook up the old PC again and I duly downloaded my vast collection onto the new player.
Well, it doesn't work. Turns out I'd recorded almost everything in RealAudio format or agreed to have it convert the files from Windows Media format (.wma). My mp3 player doesn't support .rmj files. RealPlayer doesn't support my particular brand of mp3 player (though just about every other brand I've heard of and those I haven't). I spent a fruitless morning trying to find free downloadable converting software. Arggg.
The funny thing is - all the music that I stole off the internet using peer to peer file transfer software is all in mp3 format already and plays perfectly well in my machine.
Crime does pay. Music wants to be free. And I feel like a chump for using RealPlayer.
Well, it doesn't work. Turns out I'd recorded almost everything in RealAudio format or agreed to have it convert the files from Windows Media format (.wma). My mp3 player doesn't support .rmj files. RealPlayer doesn't support my particular brand of mp3 player (though just about every other brand I've heard of and those I haven't). I spent a fruitless morning trying to find free downloadable converting software. Arggg.
The funny thing is - all the music that I stole off the internet using peer to peer file transfer software is all in mp3 format already and plays perfectly well in my machine.
Crime does pay. Music wants to be free. And I feel like a chump for using RealPlayer.
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
they probably say the same thing in Alabama
Yesterday, I announced at work:
"It's almost football time in Tennessee."
"Oh no, the Vols" said my colleague. But she says "Vols" all funny, with crisp British vowels, not with the loving, long vowels of a Southerner.
"Don't sound like that. This year it will be different. I won't be dragging myself in all morose on a Monday. The Vols are going to win."
"Yes, of course." smirked the colleague.
____________
I had just been watching this via Mr Rocky Top.
"It's almost football time in Tennessee."
"Oh no, the Vols" said my colleague. But she says "Vols" all funny, with crisp British vowels, not with the loving, long vowels of a Southerner.
"Don't sound like that. This year it will be different. I won't be dragging myself in all morose on a Monday. The Vols are going to win."
"Yes, of course." smirked the colleague.
____________
I had just been watching this via Mr Rocky Top.
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Keep yer big trap shut
Genderist has some splendid tips for the criminally minded.
I would add...don't say nothin'. Don't say anything at all. Don't respond to the question "just one more thing". Don't engage in chit-chat with those cops. They aren't interested in you, they are interested in their closure rate. They want to fit you up.
It's a well known technique and it's practically infallible. In the UK, cops let you spin a yarn and then they ask you again and then they compare differences in your story and they work on that. Fortunately, it works both ways. For one job, I had to interview a lot of senior police officers* - these people are tough cookies. They use all kinds of distraction techniques to avoid answering the real question. I'm no expert, but I used flattery and "rapt, admiring attention" and "stupid questions" to draw them out.
I'm sure there's plenty they didn't give away, but I also like to think maybe they gave away a little bit more than they meant to, e.g. the time the cop grabbed me by the shoulders on the way down the stairs and gave me a little push to illustrate one of their "interview techniques". He was kidding on the nose.
__________
*I've been on both sides of the chat, and it's definitely better to be the one asking the questions.
I would add...don't say nothin'. Don't say anything at all. Don't respond to the question "just one more thing". Don't engage in chit-chat with those cops. They aren't interested in you, they are interested in their closure rate. They want to fit you up.
It's a well known technique and it's practically infallible. In the UK, cops let you spin a yarn and then they ask you again and then they compare differences in your story and they work on that. Fortunately, it works both ways. For one job, I had to interview a lot of senior police officers* - these people are tough cookies. They use all kinds of distraction techniques to avoid answering the real question. I'm no expert, but I used flattery and "rapt, admiring attention" and "stupid questions" to draw them out.
I'm sure there's plenty they didn't give away, but I also like to think maybe they gave away a little bit more than they meant to, e.g. the time the cop grabbed me by the shoulders on the way down the stairs and gave me a little push to illustrate one of their "interview techniques". He was kidding on the nose.
__________
*I've been on both sides of the chat, and it's definitely better to be the one asking the questions.
Monday, August 28, 2006
Islamic art and fashion
On Saturday we went to the Victoria & Albert museum. I wanted to see the new gallery of Islamic art. It opened recently to much adulation and celebration.
Well, it was a bit of a disappointment, I must say. Don't go to the V&A just to see that - there are better and bigger collections elsewhere. Because of the hype and hoopla, I assumed that there were a lot of new items, but it was the gallery itself that had been refurbished. And it's nice and all, but it's dominated by an enormous Persian carpet - I guess the size of badminton court, that's in a giant glass, low-light box. That should be impressive, but since the light is turned on the carpet only twice an hour, it makes the gallery seem crowded out to the edges a big dull wall-to-wall carpeted cube.
But - a new piece was commissioned by an Iranian artist - a mirror mosaic, which was absolutely awesome (and in the main entry hall rather than the gallery). That thing is absolutely fantastic.
And they had other events on as well, including a Saudi Arabian fashion show.
Hmm...a Saudi Arabian fashion show - you might think there's not a lot of mileage in that, this year's black is the new, well, black and hemlines never rise above the floor.
But rather than being a fashion show, it was ethnography on the catwalk. Young women and men were dressed in traditional Arabian garb, and walked around the central courtyard. The event was put on by a group of Saudi women who wanted to "revive and preserve" traditional textile and costume. And since they all went around bareheaded, I must presume that they are Saudi dissedents and want to show that contrary to the current Wahabi all-encompassing black robes, that there was diversity of dress in Arabia, and not all of it so severe.
Even the Vol-in-Law had to admit that the show was pretty enjoyable.
I must presume that the models were the sons and daughters of the society women. It was mostly young women, and a few young men. Only the teenaged boy who looked like a version of Lawrence of Arabia seemed vaguely comfortable in his outfit - this poor lad, with the flowers in his hair...well, mostly he seemed like he'd rather be somewhere else. But kudos for being a good sport, young man, I thought you looked rather fetching.
No trip to the V&A is complete without a visit to the Court of Casts - two vast rooms of plaster casts of great artistic treasures. The Brits were very good at "liberating" art to display in London, but what they couldn't carry they copied. I remember in my first day in Italy, wandering around Rome in the heat and the noise and seeing Trajan's column. Was I amazed or impressed - nah, I thought, I could have stayed at home and seen it in London.
But I must say, that some things, impressive as they are in plaster (and this is amazing) are even better in marble. The first time I saw the David, I entered from the other side of the room, the scale and proportions are so perfect that you don't realise how enormous it is until you see people dwarfed at the base.
Well, it was a bit of a disappointment, I must say. Don't go to the V&A just to see that - there are better and bigger collections elsewhere. Because of the hype and hoopla, I assumed that there were a lot of new items, but it was the gallery itself that had been refurbished. And it's nice and all, but it's dominated by an enormous Persian carpet - I guess the size of badminton court, that's in a giant glass, low-light box. That should be impressive, but since the light is turned on the carpet only twice an hour, it makes the gallery seem crowded out to the edges a big dull wall-to-wall carpeted cube.
But - a new piece was commissioned by an Iranian artist - a mirror mosaic, which was absolutely awesome (and in the main entry hall rather than the gallery). That thing is absolutely fantastic.And they had other events on as well, including a Saudi Arabian fashion show.
Hmm...a Saudi Arabian fashion show - you might think there's not a lot of mileage in that, this year's black is the new, well, black and hemlines never rise above the floor.
But rather than being a fashion show, it was ethnography on the catwalk. Young women and men were dressed in traditional Arabian garb, and walked around the central courtyard. The event was put on by a group of Saudi women who wanted to "revive and preserve" traditional textile and costume. And since they all went around bareheaded, I must presume that they are Saudi dissedents and want to show that contrary to the current Wahabi all-encompassing black robes, that there was diversity of dress in Arabia, and not all of it so severe.
Even the Vol-in-Law had to admit that the show was pretty enjoyable.
I must presume that the models were the sons and daughters of the society women. It was mostly young women, and a few young men. Only the teenaged boy who looked like a version of Lawrence of Arabia seemed vaguely comfortable in his outfit - this poor lad, with the flowers in his hair...well, mostly he seemed like he'd rather be somewhere else. But kudos for being a good sport, young man, I thought you looked rather fetching.
No trip to the V&A is complete without a visit to the Court of Casts - two vast rooms of plaster casts of great artistic treasures. The Brits were very good at "liberating" art to display in London, but what they couldn't carry they copied. I remember in my first day in Italy, wandering around Rome in the heat and the noise and seeing Trajan's column. Was I amazed or impressed - nah, I thought, I could have stayed at home and seen it in London.
But I must say, that some things, impressive as they are in plaster (and this is amazing) are even better in marble. The first time I saw the David, I entered from the other side of the room, the scale and proportions are so perfect that you don't realise how enormous it is until you see people dwarfed at the base.
Sunday, August 27, 2006
Slav for you
The Vol-in-Law and I were in South Kensington yesterday and spied a Polish restaurant. It was a difficult spot - since the name above the door looked like a French joint and I nearly walked on by. I think the place is called Daquise - and it's by the station in the area that looks up to Exhibition Road. Aparently, it's been around since the 1940s - when the first Polish diaspora arrived in England.
It wasn't my first experience of Eastern European food, but it was my first time in a Polish restaurant. There's one not far from our house which I've been wanting to try, but it's within a private club and I'm not sure how easy it is to get access to the restaurant.
Anyway - yummmmy. In my opinion, you can't beat paprika laden, meat and potato Slavic cooking. The pork stew was so slow cooked, it reminded me of East Tennessee pulled pork. I had the Polish platter, since I wasn't sure exactly what I wanted - and the Vol-in-Law ordered the generous portions of the hunter stew but helped himself to the various bits on my plate.
Good cheesecake is hard to find in the UK - it's mostly the gelatinous, slimy un-baked no-cheese cheesecake. But their cheesecake was crumbly, cheesy goodness.
The Polish platter and the hunter stew
and the beer was good, too (particularly the one on the right)
It wasn't my first experience of Eastern European food, but it was my first time in a Polish restaurant. There's one not far from our house which I've been wanting to try, but it's within a private club and I'm not sure how easy it is to get access to the restaurant.
Anyway - yummmmy. In my opinion, you can't beat paprika laden, meat and potato Slavic cooking. The pork stew was so slow cooked, it reminded me of East Tennessee pulled pork. I had the Polish platter, since I wasn't sure exactly what I wanted - and the Vol-in-Law ordered the generous portions of the hunter stew but helped himself to the various bits on my plate.
Good cheesecake is hard to find in the UK - it's mostly the gelatinous, slimy un-baked no-cheese cheesecake. But their cheesecake was crumbly, cheesy goodness.
The Polish platter and the hunter stew
and the beer was good, too (particularly the one on the right)
Saturday, August 26, 2006
Scots banned by BBC for insensitivity to Islam
Those crazy Scots - they're so irreverant with their comedy stylings. So irreverant that one comedy group Franz Kafka Big Band has had shows banned by the BBC.
And for what?
Fine tuning indeed.
American readers might not quite get the Rolf Harris context - but trust me, it's funny. He's a twerpy, didgeridoo-playing, animal-rescuing, Australian who had a "learn to paint" and "learn to draw cartoons" show on tv for years. (It's deeply unfashionable to admit it, but I kinda like his paintings)
Anyway, the sketch - not only offensive to Rolf Harris, is apparently deeply offensive to Muslims. At least according to the Ramadahn Foundation:
This is a dangerous concept - the right to free speech ends when someone's feeling are hurt. And it's not the first time I've heard it.
Here's what the Glaswegian comedy troupe had to say via one member- Innes Smith's MySpace blog:
AND
Oh yes - belief, religious, political and matters of taste must be subject to question - as well as sometimes - humurous derision. Although, of course, judging by other BBC radio comedies, the derision has only about a 40% chance of actually being humorous.
And for what?
The BBC has pulled a radio comedy show featuring sketches of a cow flying into the twin towers and a spoof Rolf Harris drawing cartoons of the prophet Muhammad.
...
The corporation said the programme's "bold" subject matter required some "fine-tuning" before it could go on air.
Fine tuning indeed.
The show, written and performed by a Glasgow comedy troupe of the same name, featured a segment called Rolf's Blasphemous Cartoon Time, portraying Rolf Harris drawing cartoons of Muhammad and Buddha.
American readers might not quite get the Rolf Harris context - but trust me, it's funny. He's a twerpy, didgeridoo-playing, animal-rescuing, Australian who had a "learn to paint" and "learn to draw cartoons" show on tv for years. (It's deeply unfashionable to admit it, but I kinda like his paintings)
Anyway, the sketch - not only offensive to Rolf Harris, is apparently deeply offensive to Muslims. At least according to the Ramadahn Foundation:
Boo-hoo. You don't see Rolf Harris hopping to some kangaroo court of sensitivity.This programme is deeply offending to Muslims and all that we stand for. We are disappointed that the BBC did not realise the hurt this would cause the Muslim community when they commissioned the programme.
We support and defend the right of freedom of speech but this right ends when other human beings are offended and hurt. Prophet Muhammad (pbuh) is more sacred to Muslims than anything in this world and we will defend his honour and respect.
This is a dangerous concept - the right to free speech ends when someone's feeling are hurt. And it's not the first time I've heard it.
Here's what the Glaswegian comedy troupe had to say via one member- Innes Smith's MySpace blog:
What I would like to make clear is that the Sketch, "Rolf's Blasphemous Cartoon Time" features no names and no blasphemy. We were very careful to not include anything which may be considered blasphemous, but felt that the joke could be made by using BLEEPS ~ suggesting that blasphemy was taking place, but without any real blasphemy. The point of the joke ? That we can't make jokes about religion...
AND
Oh yes - there is quite a bit of racism in the shows, but - as is the current fashion - the only racist stereotypes are Scottish ones, which - as is the fashion - is okay, because we're Scottish.
However, we do slag off beliefs - because belief is not race, and should not be immune from criticism, comedy or good old fashioned slagging.
The exception to this is Islam. We don't slag off Islam because...well, you work it out. We do slag off the fact that we can't slag off Islam - which is a legitimate target ...I think.
Oh yes - belief, religious, political and matters of taste must be subject to question - as well as sometimes - humurous derision. Although, of course, judging by other BBC radio comedies, the derision has only about a 40% chance of actually being humorous.
Friday, August 25, 2006
High times and German country
John at Salems Lots has a hee-larious video of a German group covering OutKast's Hey Ya. Country and Western style. Well, sort of. The yas are most definitely jas.
One of the commenters questioned the German country music connection. Well, I can tell you I had the time of my life in a C&W bar on the outskirts of Hamburg. They're well up for it.
My brother (VolBro), husband (the Vol-in-Law) and I were staying at the house of German friend's parents in the burbs. We were a little early arriving so had to kill some time before collecting the key. On the way to the house - about a minute's drive away - we spotted a dive. A dive with Confederate battle flags proudly displayed. Failing to make the potential connection between confederate flags, white supremacy and Germany's unfortunate history we walked back there to kill a little time.
Germany has some strange licensing laws, so the bar wasn't open at 4:30 pm, but we peered through the window to see a bar chock full of C&W memorabilia and the state flags of the Confederacy.
Of a sudden, the door opened and we were ushered inside by the owner. She couldn't serve us any beer until 5, but she sold us cokes after we explained we were travelling and waiting to get a key. Where were we from - she wanted to know. We pointed out the Tennessee state flag and she was excited. Her English was pretty rough and our German was downright non-existent. She even called an English speaking friend to ask us to come back that night for an open-mike/session. And we said we would.
After dinner, we went back. There weren't many people in the bar, but they all turned to stare.
"Are your instruments in the car?" One asked.
"Instruments?"
Turns out that word had spread (but clearly not that far) that we were a travelling country band from Tennessee. They were very excited about hearing us play.
They bore their disappointment with good grace and indulged us by playing back up to the country music songs that we knew some of the words to. "Vat key should I play?" Uhhh... key? How 'bout the key of follow me - I have no idea. It was all pretty good fun. The owner plied us with free drinks - Jack and beer and a strange rum-based homemade concoction called Virginia Brandy.
Finally, we asked if they knew how to play the one song - other than Happy Birthday - that VolBro and I know all the words to. Rocky Top.
One guy did. The guy who'd learned to speak English from country records. He'd played back up for a German C&W band on occcasion and Rocky Top was part of their repertoire. We sang it through three times. But not all at once. That would be overkill.
HT: Sharon Cobb
One of the commenters questioned the German country music connection. Well, I can tell you I had the time of my life in a C&W bar on the outskirts of Hamburg. They're well up for it.
My brother (VolBro), husband (the Vol-in-Law) and I were staying at the house of German friend's parents in the burbs. We were a little early arriving so had to kill some time before collecting the key. On the way to the house - about a minute's drive away - we spotted a dive. A dive with Confederate battle flags proudly displayed. Failing to make the potential connection between confederate flags, white supremacy and Germany's unfortunate history we walked back there to kill a little time.
Germany has some strange licensing laws, so the bar wasn't open at 4:30 pm, but we peered through the window to see a bar chock full of C&W memorabilia and the state flags of the Confederacy.
Of a sudden, the door opened and we were ushered inside by the owner. She couldn't serve us any beer until 5, but she sold us cokes after we explained we were travelling and waiting to get a key. Where were we from - she wanted to know. We pointed out the Tennessee state flag and she was excited. Her English was pretty rough and our German was downright non-existent. She even called an English speaking friend to ask us to come back that night for an open-mike/session. And we said we would.
After dinner, we went back. There weren't many people in the bar, but they all turned to stare.
"Are your instruments in the car?" One asked.
"Instruments?"
Turns out that word had spread (but clearly not that far) that we were a travelling country band from Tennessee. They were very excited about hearing us play.
They bore their disappointment with good grace and indulged us by playing back up to the country music songs that we knew some of the words to. "Vat key should I play?" Uhhh... key? How 'bout the key of follow me - I have no idea. It was all pretty good fun. The owner plied us with free drinks - Jack and beer and a strange rum-based homemade concoction called Virginia Brandy.
Finally, we asked if they knew how to play the one song - other than Happy Birthday - that VolBro and I know all the words to. Rocky Top.
One guy did. The guy who'd learned to speak English from country records. He'd played back up for a German C&W band on occcasion and Rocky Top was part of their repertoire. We sang it through three times. But not all at once. That would be overkill.
HT: Sharon Cobb
MP3 commuting
So today I brought my new MP3 player into work with me. I haven't yet bought "noise reducing", "low leakage" head phones, so I spent the whole journey worrying if I was causing annoying iPod leakages. You do have to crank the volume up a little to hear over the train noise, but hopefully it wasn't too outrageous. I don't know what my fellow London commuter thinks about early-ish Dwight Yoakam, but I can't imagine it's tremendously positive.
Still this being a holiday weekend, and commuting a little lighter than normal of a Friday. So others were able to glance at me askance and take other seats until we were quite close to the city.
Still this being a holiday weekend, and commuting a little lighter than normal of a Friday. So others were able to glance at me askance and take other seats until we were quite close to the city.
Dhimmi fashion choices
Late one day, when few people were left in the office, I caught my colleague looking at headscarfs at the hijabshop.com
I asked her why she was shopping online, since there are plenty of markets in London that sell an amazing array of scarfs that some Muslim women use for hijab and the rest of use for fashion accessories - and if you look around they're pretty cheap. She was just browsing.
On this site, there's a full page of different styles of hijab wear (there's a million different ways to wear them), but most of them on this page are faffy and impractical - and some frankly just ridiculous. To wit:
We had a good laugh, and my colleague, a hijab wearer herself said "We shouldn't laugh, in some countries this is the way Muslim women wear them."
"Well," I said "What's the point of looking at fashion pictures on the Internet if you can't laugh at them."
"Good point."
Then she turned and said "Which style would you wear if you covered?"
"Well, I wouldn't." I said.
"Yes, but if something happened, and you did - which style would you wear?"
If something happened????
"Well, you know I just wouldn't, but if I did..." And I think I pointed to this one:
But on reflection, I think I'd go for this.
or maybe this, cause you know...at least it's orange.
Photo grabbed from Belly Dance in Instanbul
But you know, if I really had to wear hijab on the streets of the UK...I guess I'd be going for a look a little more like this:
Image from the St Petersburger's Soviet Army fashion page
I asked her why she was shopping online, since there are plenty of markets in London that sell an amazing array of scarfs that some Muslim women use for hijab and the rest of use for fashion accessories - and if you look around they're pretty cheap. She was just browsing.
On this site, there's a full page of different styles of hijab wear (there's a million different ways to wear them), but most of them on this page are faffy and impractical - and some frankly just ridiculous. To wit:
We had a good laugh, and my colleague, a hijab wearer herself said "We shouldn't laugh, in some countries this is the way Muslim women wear them."
"Well," I said "What's the point of looking at fashion pictures on the Internet if you can't laugh at them."
"Good point."
Then she turned and said "Which style would you wear if you covered?"
"Well, I wouldn't." I said.
"Yes, but if something happened, and you did - which style would you wear?"
If something happened????
"Well, you know I just wouldn't, but if I did..." And I think I pointed to this one:
But on reflection, I think I'd go for this.
or maybe this, cause you know...at least it's orange.
Photo grabbed from Belly Dance in Instanbul
But you know, if I really had to wear hijab on the streets of the UK...I guess I'd be going for a look a little more like this:
Image from the St Petersburger's Soviet Army fashion page
Thursday, August 24, 2006
New blogger
The gal who appears anecdotally on my blog every now and then as The Texan has her own blog now. She will henceforth be known as The Texan - see, note the hyperlink.
She wants me to link her straight away. So I have. She joins the seried ranks of the American Bloggers in London.
__________
And BTW- to Nicole, of Nicole in London - I have finally fixed my blogroll link to your new (ok - it's months old now) site.
She wants me to link her straight away. So I have. She joins the seried ranks of the American Bloggers in London.
__________
And BTW- to Nicole, of Nicole in London - I have finally fixed my blogroll link to your new (ok - it's months old now) site.
London ain't your kinda town
Overheard Australian on a London street on a grey and misty day:
I have a phobia of people with umbrellas.
I have a phobia of people with umbrellas.
Protestor without a cause
New Labour, not being the civil libertarians we might wish them to be, have placed some serious restrictions on the right to protest. Particularly in places where you might actually like to protest, the seat of government, Westminster. No protests allowed within 1 Km of the parliament building.
But there's a wee loophole in the law. If you ask permission (pretty please) and fill out a form, and submit it in triplicate a week before your intended demonstration, you can protest on your own. You can be a lone voice in an uncaring world.
Or you can join a mass-lone-protest.
Londoners can get down there tonight to hand in their forms to the police for a mass-lone-protest before the Palace of Westminster next week.
Meet on Thursday 24th August outside Charing Cross police station any time between: 5.30pm-6pm to hand in your SOCPA forms. Go here to get a form.
-0-
Sure, what everyone will really be protesting is the curtailment of the ancient liberty of free speech. But I'm reckoning that since it's a mass lone protest, one needs to be original in one's outrage. Should I protest, here's some things that I'd like Parliament to consider:
But there's a wee loophole in the law. If you ask permission (pretty please) and fill out a form, and submit it in triplicate a week before your intended demonstration, you can protest on your own. You can be a lone voice in an uncaring world.
Or you can join a mass-lone-protest.
Londoners can get down there tonight to hand in their forms to the police for a mass-lone-protest before the Palace of Westminster next week.
Meet on Thursday 24th August outside Charing Cross police station any time between: 5.30pm-6pm to hand in your SOCPA forms. Go here to get a form.
-0-
Sure, what everyone will really be protesting is the curtailment of the ancient liberty of free speech. But I'm reckoning that since it's a mass lone protest, one needs to be original in one's outrage. Should I protest, here's some things that I'd like Parliament to consider:
- Annoying iPod leakage on the Underground.
- The TV license
- Low-rider jeans and thong panties
- Sunday trading laws which prohibit big stores being open more than 6 hours on Sundays
- Multi-ethnic movable feast bank holidays - I'd like the British government to give me the 4th of July off with pay
- The high cost of ice. There must be some kind of prohibitive tax on it - why else would it be so hard to obtain in the UK?
- The burgeoning urban fox population. Bring back the hunt - but only in cities.
- The lack of chi-chi delis in Tooting. Surely the must be able to do something to help my neighbourhood get fresh olives and prosciutto.
- Driving on the left.
You might be a redneck 2.0 if...
...this is on the front page of your old high school's website:
Back in my day, there was no website and no frog giggin', but we did have a deer-hunting tournament and a Rook tournament. I was ejected from the Rook tournament for unsportsmanlike conduct. That's a feat. I was playing against this guy.
The Frog Giggin' tournament will be held Saturday, August 26.
Back in my day, there was no website and no frog giggin', but we did have a deer-hunting tournament and a Rook tournament. I was ejected from the Rook tournament for unsportsmanlike conduct. That's a feat. I was playing against this guy.
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
Travelling while brown
In the aftermath of 7/7, people were suspicious of each other. But folks were particularly concerned by young Asian men (Asian in the British sense of from the Indian subcontinent). Doubtless, many young men suffered under the weight of anxious glances from their fellow passengers. I remember seeing a few in the first week looking nervous and abashed. But some young men seemed to revel in it. They swaggered, hair gelled and spiked, Palestinian scarfs draped across their shoulders -and carried bulging, mysterious backpacks.
I wasn't afraid of these types, merely angered by their rudeness. They wanted to be noticed and to cause alarm among commuters. I was always more nervous of the quiet ones who clutched their bags and seemed to be drawing on some inner strength. In retrospect, these were probably guys nervous of being searched (as I am), late for an appointment, on their way to a job interview, appointment or some unpleasant personal business.
Two British men of Asian (or Arab) appearance were chucked off a plane from Spain this weekend after passengers raised concerns. The pilot agreed, but they were cleared by police and have returned home now. People are jumpy. This sort of thing is going to happen more and more.
And now the British establishment is wringing its collective hands over whether or not we should profile passengers. It's not a new thing - ask my husband - he was once a young man from Northern Ireland. It took him the better part of a year to get security clearance to join the Territorial Army (like the National Guard) because of his Irish connection.
Yes, profile - I say. We'd be fools to target only the brown, but young men and to a lesser extent young women, are a greater threat than little old ladies or old men. And, in recent times - sad to say, the brown are more likely to be perpetrators.
Muslim organisations in the UK are protesting and raised the shout of Islamophobia over the passenger protest. They are sharply warning against profiling. But some senior police are warning against playing the race card and taking advantage of trying times to achieve their objectives. (In the days afterward Muslims groups asked for Muslim holidays and some MPs -including mine - insisted on a rethink of foreign policy). When these Muslim organisations pressed their point, we didn't know much about the terror plot arrests. The most recent memory of arrests in the night at Forest Gate in East London turned out to be a bungled op -hundreds of cops disrupted an entire neighbourhood and netted (by chance) a potential pedophile rather than an evident terrorist. So I guess they thought that if these arrests too turned out to be bad, they'd have even more weight to their argument.
Now it appears that they've got some real evidence against these latest bunch. That doesn't mean that we should target all Muslims in our search for security. But let's not be pressured against taking a sensible approach.
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Orange
I'd never grown these before, but they've been fabulous. Apricot begonias. Some of them a beautiful orange.
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
my JonBenet Ramsay info
My mom told me that her friend's son's girlfriend's grandmother lived in the same neighbourhood as that Mark Karr fellow when he was growing up.
I can't be certain of the accuracy of this information, since it's filtered through 5 people and many thousands of miles - but that Mark Karr fellow is weird. Always has been, even when a little kid.
There ya go.
I can't be certain of the accuracy of this information, since it's filtered through 5 people and many thousands of miles - but that Mark Karr fellow is weird. Always has been, even when a little kid.
There ya go.
Shoot
A colleague of mine just got back from a trip to Canada.
"Shoot," she said. "I've just been in a country where they say shoot."
"What?" said another colleague.
"You know, like the Vol says when she doesn't want to say another word that sounds similar. I thought it was just her, but apparently there's a whole country that says that."
"The better part of a continent," I said.
__________
And here I thought I had an absolutely unredeemable potty mouth. Turns out I'm not such a gutter-gob after all.
"Shoot," she said. "I've just been in a country where they say shoot."
"What?" said another colleague.
"You know, like the Vol says when she doesn't want to say another word that sounds similar. I thought it was just her, but apparently there's a whole country that says that."
"The better part of a continent," I said.
__________
And here I thought I had an absolutely unredeemable potty mouth. Turns out I'm not such a gutter-gob after all.
Working cats
I once saw a documentary which featured a cat who worked at a small business greeting customers. When the shop closed, the cat stayed at home full time. It developed behavioural problems.
The animal psychic (the focus of the documentary - called She Talks to Animals, which I'm not sure ever aired) determined that the cat was depressed because it was unemployed. I believe an unsuccessful placement at a restaurant was attempted before the cat was given a job greeting library patrons. That apparently, worked splendidly, the cat trotted off to the library every morning and returned home of an evening.
I say this because I just passed a barber shop near Victoria station - a cat was sitting proudly on a bench in the waiting area overseeing the work.
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