Sunday, April 22, 2007
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Friday, February 16, 2007
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Thursday, February 08, 2007
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
Sunday, January 07, 2007
Moonlight Sonata

Ignacy Jan Paderewski (November 6, 1860 - June 29, 1941) OBE was a Polish pianist, composer, diplomat and politician, and the third Prime Minister of Poland.
this is a piano roll recording he made in 1914 of the first and second movements of Beethoven's Sonata Op.27 No.2: (click here)
(more such goodies here)
Saturday, January 06, 2007
resolution
to accept the cruel curse of mediocrity, and to scorn it
both as producer and as consumer, therefore, henceforth to eschew :
pictorialism in any form
the exoticism of poverty
the 'innocence' of children
the alluring 'beauty' of nature
the cuteness of pets
the otherness of animals
the celebration of the trivial
the trivialisation of the sacred
'war-torn' photojournalism - the porn of the culturally anaesthetised
the image whose only raison d'ĂȘtre is envy (that I were there rather than here)
the image whose only raison d'ĂȘtre is relief (that I'm here rather than there)
at least, until the snow comes ...
Sunday, December 17, 2006
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Friday, December 01, 2006
Friday, November 24, 2006
my england
I had a packet to collect from the post office. In front of me was an old lady of eighty or so - alone, wooden stick for support, thin white hair in an old lady's perm, mac, stockings and shoes all from the generic old lady catalogue - who, passing the missed delivery slip over, was trying to engage the postman at the window in conversation, as old ladies do:
"Can't think what 'tis. Warn't expectin' naught. Cost me twelve pounds in taxi fare to come over 'ere."
Old ladies with hip conditions tend not to be able to use the bus - it's too far to walk to the bus-stop.
The patient-but-not-paid-to-chat postman pointed out to her that there was a phone number - if it was just something she had to sign for she could have arranged for it to be delivered another time.
"Oh, where's that, then?"
"On the back"
"Oh, 'tis on back, is it? Didn't think to turn 'im over."
So he disappears for a minute or two and reappears with an envelope. A white envelope. The sort of envelope that you'd put a birthday card in.
"Oh, 'tis a card, is it? Aye, 'twas my birthday yesterday."
An envelope with no stamp on it.
Which she then had to pay a surcharge on to collect.
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