dubya palin

Sometimes I just scare myself.

I wondered how long it would be before the Palin/Bush similarities would start to become noticed.

A modest reconstruction is all it takes. It had to be done.

The voting percentage swing seems to be all but modest, however.

Sometimes I just scare myself.

dark materials

Smashing time ahead when the scientists switch on the £20bn wibble beam in CERN, Geneva. It can send parallel particles in circles and then hit them up with bendy magnets to see how they ding into one another and generally bounce around.

Or it could create a black hole that eventually consumes the earth.

Professor Otto thinks its weird science without Kelly le Brock and is trying to get it stopped via a legal action at the moment, but another Professor Cox says that everything is dreamy. So if a lot of people in Switzerland have headaches tomorrow, its probably a few runaway Higgs-Boson particles. They're the ones that get called the God particle.

west

Ba daa daa dah doo...
Ba da da da da dee dee...

Sadler's Wells version of West Side Story. We've all seen the film, and probably a stage version, so how did this stack up?

Um.

Good set, some good movement, but mis-casting. I opened the programme and there was a single still from an old Broadway show, which ooozed era, action, smoulder.

This version some how didn't.

Whether taking the ensemble view or some of the main parts, there just wasn't the right zing.

I don't think it was me; it came across as 'by the numbers' rather than with the energy and verve one would expect.

There were some standout re-staged effects, but overall I thought they could have driven more from the story, but probably played it all a bit safe.

When the rather tall and somewhat operatic Tony (who looked a bit like Maria's dad) met his demise in the last scene, there was a combination of tears but also stifled laughter from the rather respectable looking audience. Something hadn't quite worked.

pictures from the past

If anyone has been tracking my other recent blog rashbre snapped then you'll have noticed I hit eBay a few days to pick up an old film SLR to go alongside my digital snappery. I'd hoped to use my original camera, but something seems to have stopped working and I realised (sadly) that it was more economical to acquire an inexpensive eBay replacement than to have it repaired.

So the gleaming newbie arrived and I decided to look around rashbre central for some 35mm film (probably past its use by date but - hey), and in the hunt found 21 used 35mm cartridges. I'm wondering whether I should get them processed to CD, to see whats on them. One's coded Greece, a couple seem to be German. Hmm, possible flashbacks in time, I suspect.

Here's my original OM2 and the newbie replacement.

fzzt

I gather the weather has been pretty wet today, but because I've been locked away working, I'd hardly noticed the great outdoors.

When I finally decided to power down and maybe watch some evening television, I flipped it on and after a few pixellated moments of a soap, it ground to a freeze frame halt. There was a fair amount of thunder rolling around, so I'm guessing ikkle Sky is trying to deal with bolts of lightning.

Find the other hand set, flip over to Freeview. "no Service".

Hmm, the entire digital domain seems to have been reduced to pixel dust.

So now I'm on the remnants of analogue. Four channels with slow scrolling bands of interference and gentle snow permeating the scene. Its reduced my choices back to old school 1-2-3-4 and for the last few minutes I've been watching the finale of Big Brother and wondering how Davina manages to deflect rain around her whilst all the heavily anoraked supporters look drenched. The trouble is, I don't know who any of them are so I've had to generate instant dislikes in order to feel engaged with the process.

And no pause, advert skip, red button, plus one or 'whats on next' guide.

I'm feeling very retro at the moment.

Alaskan Independence Party?

The US election commentary bubbles along on UK media. I listened to a few snippets whilst driving and heard George Bush endorsing McCain along the lines that offensive tactics are needed to ensure peace. I was in heavy traffic at the time and didn't have time to properly process what appeared to be an endorsement of further military action.

But the strident one that's caught my ear is the unfolding Sarah Palin, who is a kind of Dubya in disguise. The emotive crowd rousing is clever enough although I assume she is now being powered by at least ten of the 'operatives' who were dispatched to Alaska to manage the plotline. Despite normally hardened journalists cooing at some her speeches, it just seems odd to me that the person selected as running mate to McCain would have so many easy political points to pick at by the media. I hand it to her spinners though that she can dance a mean fandango around the critiques.

Some reports suggested that McCain favoured Joe Lieberman but whoever went through the selection process to advise McCain on the final choice of his running mate must have been looking the other way for part of the time. I get the idea about creating a 'Hilary factor' in the other party and that message delivery may still triumph over content.

I'm also interested in her selection as an early sign of McCain's decision making performance. If Palin's the person, fix up the back-story first. Or perhaps choose someone needing less profile management. Maybe some of it is the inevitable digging of journalists looking for a story, but it all seems a long way from the simple hockey mum description that Palin is portraying whilst she advances the George Bush agenda.

There's a caption competition here somewhere...Just what is McCain thinking??

don't ask alice

The doors are finally in place from the recent wardrobe project and the shelves are now full of clothes.

There's something satisfying about being able to walk through the glass and into the hidden en-suite room.

And back the other way through the looking glass.

No sign of the white rabbit at the moment, but I'll keep taking the tablets.

iLost

I was not fully organised for that run a couple of days ago and briefly googled for any instructions.

In amongst the threads, I noticed a fair amount of controversy from serious runners about whether it was acceptable to wear headphones whilst running in a race like the one on Sunday. Apparently its so that the fast serious runners can call (eg) 'stand aside' to the slower ones as they accelerate through to the front. I envisaged that this would be happening to me continuously, although to avoid embarrassment I'd planned to start from the last wave in any case.

But as a casual runner I thought that part of the fun was throwing on a tune with some running rhythms to count along to. I decided I would take my little 'running iPod', which is one of the old school chewing gum shaped ones in a fetching shiny red. Suitably loaded with running music (don't ask), I prepared for the race in what was still only drizzle at that stage and rummaged for my iEars or whatever they are called.

Gasp.

They had disappeared. Lost forever. Probably on the tube.

I would have to survive in full aural contact with the other runners - of whom, I estimate, nearly all were wearing headphones and not calling out 'stand aside!'.

some vid of the headphone-less run

sssseptember

I always think of September as the month when spiders start to get too big for their boots and start invading the indoors.

As if on cue, this little specimen decided to dangle from a window today whilst attempting some particularly clever form of crochet.

September. Spiderssss.

red tee shirt with a very long number

We all had to wear red tee shirts for this one.

A bit of a race around the streets of London. Part of the Human Race 10k with allegedly a million runners around the world. I'd crossed London to Wembley, despite the closed Victoria line and to others' amusement wore the red tee-shirt inside out on the way having remembered to cut out the two 15 cm long care labels.

The inside outness was supposed to help me keep a lower profile on the tube but I suppose bright red is bright, however you look at it, plus compulsory telemetry gleaming from one running shoe.

Jeans dropped at the 'baggage' area at Wembley Arena and then into the shiny main stadium for the warmup by the fashionable Pendulum (who played a jarring industrial metal version of drum n bass) and then Moby with a band doing O Lordy greatest hits, whilst the 'waves' of runners were instructed about how to turn sharp right when leaving the stadium.

I'd wondered if anyone would turn up for this actually, because (eg) John had been offered loads of spectator tickets late last week.

In fact, it was mainly runners present in very large quantities 20,000? 30,000? very hard to guess. We listened to the music, listened to the warm ups and then it was time to hit the dusky streets to the car-wash proportions of rain that started to fall. I'd brought a baseball cap which did a surprisingly good deflection job and the red layer with the blue layer underneath seemed to keep me moderately cosy as I joined the runners many of whom were going about the whole run as if it was a sprint.

My tactics were somewhat different, with a view to be both visible at the start and the end. It seemed to pay off, even if my time is pretty unremarkable.

no sun day

Sound deadening mist draping the morning after yesterday's barbecue friendly heat.

I'm alone in the silence until loud rods of rain descend suddenly, drilling holes through the mist.

Distant cracks of thunder.

Another ten minutes and the blackbird attempts a short flight in the secondary stillness.

exotic

A shameless plug for Naomi's site today. Naomi is sittin' out in the Hollywood Hills and writes a fine blog on all manner of topics. The post I'm linking to is about her time in the clubland of New York's Staten Island, with its rather different approach to clubbing, 1954 style. Fascinating reading, worthy of a novel or a movie!

But also as I've been reading a few posts today, the soon to be in Greece Lady banana caught my eye with this little Britney moment.

Sims do Toxic. I'll have to reload the rashbre/britney collaborations...

Oh OK. here's the old britney/rashbre/MTV version...

...and interestingly enough, the lyrics of 'you want a piece of me' are very similar to the sentiments of Naomi's 1954 clubland story, where one option for a singer was to sign everything away and effectively work for the mob. Some parallels with more recent stories.