preparing the stochastic Dirichlet Chinese restaurant method randomiser

The phenomenon of that dancing competition programme affected us all at the end of last week. I'm trying to remember if we were eating a Chinese takeaway when it was on. I'm pretty sure we were drinking some red wine.

The thing is, I somehow got roped into generating a sweepstake linked to whoever will win the competition, which is on BBC television for the next few weeks.

It's probably the last of the not blatantly commercialised shows and seems to be more about positive re-inforcement rather than the negativity inspired concoctions of the Svengali shows.

We had the usual problem of too many people wanting to enter compared with the number of competitor names available, but a simple randomised draw soon fixed the problem.

It was one of those occasions where we could have used a fancy algorithm ensure the sequence had a uniform bound on the compressibility of its initial segments. Instead we used a few strips of paper cut up and placed in a sparkly hat which seemed to do just as well.

I gather the first knockout from the competition is tomorrow. I have - er - Lisa Riley from Emmerdale Farm as my entrant. Go Lisa.

drinking machu picchu coffee can't fully explain the speed of this week

This week has been zinging by. I've only had local travel and even had some reschedules, so I'm not quite sure why its going by so fast.

I'm wondering if its the coffee I've been drinking. I chanced upon a stash of Peruvian Machu Picchu a few days ago - on unexplained special offer in a local supermarket.

The real deal, French-style roasted beans waiting to be ground. Mysteriously on special offer, so I gave them a try.

One of those moments when you know they are going to be brilliant. Like Pacific oysters bursting with wild sea from Elliott's in Seattle, or vintage Champagne from Castellane in Epernay, you just know it's going to be great.

A handful of the beans gives an aroma of high mountain slopes, mist and rain. You can just sense the terrain of the Incas.

Then as it's ground there's a further aroma like chocolate, but still underpinned with a kind of wild damp mountainside.

Of course, you have to actually make it into coffee and drink it.

A fabulous simple pleasure.

Maybe that's why my week has been spinning past so quickly?

mycurtainsareclosedbecauseistartedworksoearly

I'm back in London this week, after my travels of the last week and a half. Actually, I only arrived back on Sunday afternoon and then spent time unpacking bags and sorting out laundry.

This morning I was up before the lark and started working without even opening the curtains or blinds.

But I gather that not opening the blinds is now frowned upon, according to our Chancellor on talk radio this morning.

In fact, the subsequent #mycurtainsareclosedbecause hashtag on twitter could have been stopped me from working if I'd been following the aftermath.

Update: Kate has storified a few of the tweets from various people here

Michelle Shocked at the Cluny

Baltic gallery in the morning, followed by a bit of a pub crawl yesterday afternoon, then along to the Cluny to see the original skate-board-punk-rocker Michelle Shocked.

Michelle was on fine form and played a selection of well-know songs as well as some brand new ones. A brilliant performer and it was great to see the engagement of the audience throughout.

Michelle takes such a positive approach to life and adapts the set and storytelling to the location. We had bits of 'Blaydon Races' at the start of the set, with Michelle and Peter O'Toole jamming the chords whilst the audience self-selected the song.

Michelle explained she is still on her five year tour (this is year three).

Politics and freedoms mixed with the songs, some receiving quite broad adaptations to keep them current. Already looking forward to whenever the next time we see her.

We had a blast.

Keep on rockin' girl.

a casual vacancy

As well as some further work today on my difficult second novel, I've encountered a couple of other fresh books.

The first one is so new it hasn't been published yet. It's at that "A4 sized sheets that are freshly bound" stage. It looks neat but is waiting for the first few reviewer readers. I can safely say it has a great first sentence.

The other one is That Book, the one that everyone is buying at the moment and having opinions about. I got my copy from a proper bookshop and paid an almost full retail price for it. Fifteen minutes later I saw the same title on sale in Tescos for £9, which is less than half price.

I've only just started it. There's an okay but not great first sentence but actually the dust jacket gives away that the subject of the opening isn't going to make it alive to the end of the first chapter. An. Aneurysm.

I used that 'don't pass go' device in The Triangle, where in my case I think of it as the James Bond beginning (i.e. something lively that doesn't have a lot to do with the main story).

In the red covered novel's case it is used to set the motivation for what happens in the next few chapters.

I haven't really read enough to have fully formed views yet, but I can see already that JK Rowling writes a good line in teenagers and it is quite interesting to see how she develops inhabitants of varied housing estates in a manner similar to the Muggle parts of the early Harry Potters.

I can understand the title of the novel based upon the thoughtfully added definition in the front of the book, but I suppose it is also about that way of living - a kind of casual vacancy of mind that people have in many situations. I'm assuming that will be a theme of some kind as I get further into it.

Others have said the story telling is kind of standard, but I suppose JK Rowling has been a plot-meister in the other series of books. It will be interesting to see whether this one branches into new territory and how much Rowling-esque back story will feature.

technique for use of megastructures to inform the creative process

The background threat of my continued work on the second novel continues. In between bits of work this week I decided to review the progress and try to unscramble to plot line.

I'll admit that the rush of words from NaNoWriMo can be good but also created a few spurious scenes which I'm in the process of deleting. The scene set outside a football ground in Reading is a case in point. I think I was stuck in a nearby traffic jam when I visualised that particular and superfluous moment.

And a few characters can be combined. It's obvious to me that there's too many, possibly a factor of the storyline being put together in bursts.

So I wandered outdoors with the laptop, found a nearby beautiful mega-structure where I could sit in relative peace with a cup of coffee and started the editing process.

It's working surprisingly well and I think the change of scene is good for inspiration. Today at the performance space and maybe tomorrow at the adjacent gallery.

Suggestion for caption: Windowcleaners or spacemen?

inside the butterfly cabinet

Tonight we were at the wonderful Butterfly Cabinet for some blues. We needed a table this evening so timed the arrival for just after the neon 'OPEN' sign was switched on.

Well, not quite, actually. We arrived early enough to have some starters in the nearby sky apple cafe, ahead of the switching of the neon.

The venue was hosting the Monkey Junk Blues Club and in the short period from 7.45 until 8 filled from the front room, through the corridor bit to the back room with animated folk ready of an evening of the blues.

A foot stompin' and hot smokin' evening. A short video extract below.

down the empty streets we'll disappear until the dawn

Sometimes an evening sat around a table just chatting is the best way to go.

We'd talked about watching a television show but instead our little group assembled around a circular table (the best kind) with a few glasses of jazz-backed wine and a fine home-made supper.

We pretty much talked from before a rainy sun had set until beyond the witching hour.

Sometimes it needs the time to let conversation develop like a stream becomes a river.

The bridge across the misty waters outside our door surely helped create the atmosphere.

looper

After the Dabba Wal Street Food Kitchen, we headed to the cinema to see the new Bruce Willis movie called Looper.

We even sat near the front.

I won't say too much about the plot line for fear of spoilers, but the general idea is about near future assassins who deal with time travelled mobster hits.

There's the expected twists - er - loops in the story and also a chance to start to invent some along the way.

Bruce also gets some great one liners - along the lines "we could spend the rest of the morning describing time travel and use all the drinking straws in this diner making models, or we could just accept it" and another part where the map just has an 'X' to explain a location. The script tips its hat to the audience who have already seen all this stuff and don't need the fancy GPS explanations.

The storyline also does some things you don't see so often. I won't say what but it's not the stuff of many action-sci-fi-noir movies.

The near future Kansas is also a fairly dusty and run down looking city, with beaten up cars adapted for solar charging and a plethora of cardboard cities. There's a few seconds also in a manga-like Singapore all high tech and gleaming.

And it's not giving anything away to say that the time machine really looks as if it was invented by H.G. Wells, complete with its almost steam-punk dials and valves.

Our post-viewing consensus - it was definitely worth seeing. Was it as good as the adverts on the buses said - 'The next Matrix/Bladerunner' ? - I think the jury would remain out on that one.

Perhaps stuck in a loop.

And take it from me - China is going to be big.

trouble in't village

They said there'd be trouble today. First news was of 'railway trouble' but later the tram conductor said I should watch out for protests in the village.

Sure enough, the railway station was all but deserted, although the buses were still running. Then I heard the sound of raised voices.

It sounded like a rally and I could see placards being waved at the band-stand.

I crossed the cobbled street just as the leading protestors from the NUWSS turned the corner.

Yes, I'd travelled a mere eight miles distance but back in time just over a hundred years, to the small village of Beamish. It still runs on pounds, shillings and pence and proudly portrays the turn from the nineteenth and into the very early twentieth century.

sitting on a beach, or is it art?

Things might be a bit out of sequence at the moment.

The last few days have tumbled by with all manner of things from rats in the alleyways of Chinatown to divine burlesque, mixed with American brunches and even an all-day business workshop for good measure.

Right now I'm sitting on a beach watching a small piece of the world go by. I feel as if I'm in an art installation actually, but I'm sure it's one of those moments when the body needs to catch up with the mind.

Or maybe it's the other way around.

Morden Tower

We'd arrived after the start. In fairness we'd also been in Manchester earlier in the day and the last part had become gently rushed.

There had been a couple of detours on the walk to the spot. One to get some Montepulciano and another when we'd walked along the front of the fortified walls instead of their inside in order to reach the entrance.

We could have known something about structures having an inside and an outside.

We could have used logic. You don't put a door into the outside of a castle except where there's the drawbridge. Sure enough we could see the little slit windows suitable for firing arrows at marauders.

Our objective was to reach Morden Tower for the poetry reading. Up some clattery centuries-old stairs towards a door jammed tightly shut.

We mused about how to gain attention "knock quietly, perhaps". I don't think the siege in 1644 would have seen the outsiders knocking quietly.

Then we were inside to hear 2012's North Eastern poets in the tiny venue where Ginsberg, Corso, Ferlinghetti and many others have honed their words.

Camera and iPhone-less, the picture is from Morden Tower's own archive.