Archive for December, 2004

text haiku

bars on my mobile / grow slowly from one to four / civilisation

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Posted using <a href="">sms_to_lj</a>…

my mother is running windows 95. on the other hand, i may have persuaded her to get a powerbook.

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There's a rather good and impressively polite discussion going on about Chomsky's Propaganda Model between UK left and US right on Urban75 at the moment, which I am loath to interrupt because I've not been following it over the last few pages and I'd rather not repeat something that's already been said.

It does occur to me, though, that the major impact of said model is in terms of your perception of the world, rather than you being able to draw any immediate direct conclusions. Thinking of the news media not as a news-providing body that also sells advertising to support itself, but rather something designed to sell you to advertisers that, in passing, might provide some useful information if and only if it's convenient to that process, is the difference between seeing something as a slightly unsafe cheese shop, or a mousetrap. Either way there might be some cheese in there, but the primary purpose is different, and if you don't change how you react to it you may lose your tail.

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Hunting addendum

I am reminded by my father that he claims to have seen someone dressed up in hunting gear waterskiing behind a boat in the harbour this afternoon – as if a gang of people on horses in the middle of the road wasn't quite obtrusive enough. However, he neglected to take a picture of this so you'll have to take his word for it. I wouldn't trust him, frankly.

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The last hurrah

I have some video of the last ever meet of the Devon And Cornwall Hunt, possibly including audio of my stepmother standing next to me and saying “good riddance” and “bugger off”.

They dragged out a number of children, including one doing a comic turn on a Shetland pony, sat about for a while on horses on the seafront blocking the traffic and then rode off up the hill, leaving behind them an fair amount of dung. Some people were cheering and clapping, which I think was more forelock-tugging than pleased to see them depart for the last time, though there was one person who appeared as the last horse rode up the hill and shouted something angry. And thus a Grand Old English Tradition Steeped In History Departs These Shores Forever, Crushed By Blair, Guardian-Reading Urban Liberals And The Nanny State (© Countryside Alliance / dim pseudo-rural commuters).

Personally I think they could do a lot worse than move to the US and be patronised rigid for large sums of cash, ideally taking the Royals with them.

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A musical interlude

If you would like to hear some traditional English folk singing that took place in a pub on the 23rd, you should click here; I recorded it with my camera and converted to MP3. It's not exactly broadcast quality but you can get the idea. Will write a little more later.

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A question of coffee

Correct me if I'm just being snobbish here, but does anyone else see a certain irony in my father having an espresso machine with steamer attachment etc, going through all the rigmarole required to make espresso with this and then using UHT milk to produce cappuccinos?

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Devon 1

In Devon at the moment with some virus or other. My nose runs Windows, you see.

In ten minutes I will be off to sit in a pub which, as I recall, was designed for shorter folk than I, and listen, later on, to people singing about a faggot. At least I think they sing about it. They certainly burn one.

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Dinner and stuff

Went to Cubana near Waterloo last night. An enormous number of cocktails, and yet, despite having booked and specified menus five days in advance, we were told that they'd run out of steak. And knives. And each time we got a course delivered there were three or four errors, and some people didn't get their replacement food until just before the next course arrived. And drinks orders took about twenty minutes to be delivered – mojitos don't really go with main courses that well, in general.

The crab cake starter I had was dry and overly salty, and could have done with more mango and chilli salsa to go with it. I understand the tuna starter was nice. The tuna main course was certainly nice, though I'm sure what was called plantain was actually banana, not that this made any significant difference. They even managed to get an order of two coffees and two espressos wrong at the end.

But, y'know, hey. Lots of friends were there and there was much action with a spud gun. Under these circumstances, daft situational problems are just something extra to talk about rather than being actually detrimental to the mood. I even got a set of “Regime Change Begins At Home – Most Wanted” playing cards, with Robin Cook and Clare Short as the jokers. The music was good and the decor was busy in an appropriate fashion, though the cocktail menu did include a bit too much Bacardi, and I was happy.

Tonight – steak, onions and mash. If I do say so myself the mash was quite good. More milk than I usually use and it made a difference.

Tomorrow I am taking the train to Devon.

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Potential cheese theft

I suspect that that dog has stolen some cheese. I took a piece of cheddar out of the fridge for lunch, and put it on the kitchen counter. Later I found the bag the cheese was stored in, remembered that I'd not put the cheese away, and went looking for it. No cheese. And cheese isn't something you lose. I've lost many things in my time, pens, watches, nail files, hats, but never cheese.

It was about the right size for a dog, too. I am looking at her suspiciously.

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