Van II

Van has a cassette player — isn’t this a very good sign?

Apparently the more mechanical male in my life assures me the emergency brake is not working.

Back of the van

It’s time again as storm watching and free thinking season approaches to rebonjour the blogola.

I have acquired, after some trepidation and rather a Sopranos style transaction, a van designed for the purpose of following the wind.

Unfortunately as is usually the case in my impulsive moments. I sat in the said van not 5 minutes later and a peculiar orange light flashed, saying Check Engine. Followed by a gross outburst of spluttering and let’s just say the wind will need to be got back up the van before the van may safely follow the wind.

I am considering venturing under the bonnet and may acquire an education to this end.

Needless to say the transaction took place under the umbrella of it’s my ninety year old mother’s car.

Me well I am a mother, so if you’re lying you won’t go to heaven.

A small investigation by the Puffin produced numerous Hello Kitty toys stashed in the armrest.

Demise

Some charming snaps of snazzy penmanship in response to demise of a shop, served with an eviction and repossession notice.

Bloomin Blath

Is this one of

the reasons

stv didn’t pass?

Were people distracted by their blooms?

What is it going to take to engage the electorate and get them out to vote?

They seem to come out for hockey matches. Perhaps retired hockey players would ignite a successful campaign or lookalikes even.  It’s so disappointing this opportunity has been lost for a fairer system, one where your vote can actually make a difference.

Sri Lanka Protest: Grid/cross

Here are some pictures I took at a recent protest outside the library against the barbaric slaughter of the Tamils in Sri Lanka. The way the protest banners had this grid or cross shape on the back of them particularly drew my attention. It was a rainy day. I admired the young men and women handing out information via a BBC news story printed up. There was no obvious media presence. The chants were energised but there was a real sense there was no one to listen to them and no vessel through which they’d be heard.

Somnolence

It usually takes an uncanny weather story to lift me from my bloggled somnolence.

This is the tale from today’s Graun about a gal nun that took to a cave for a number of years, hermit solidudette.

Here’s the para that sparked me up

I was ready to do a long retreat - three years in complete solitude.
Once we had a huge blizzard that raged for seven days and nights,
the snow covered the door and window and the whole cave
was in complete blackness. I thought: "This is it."
Looking back, I'm amazed I wasn't claustrophobic.
I felt perfectly calm and resigned. 
Then I heard a voice say, "Shovel out."
I used a saucepan lid and dug a tunnel out.
It took an hour or two and I did it three times 
but survived to tell the tale.

Liberté

Well that was a very long episode of freethinking, so free I have not been thinking. What I have been doing is watching these short snips of the bold Monsieur Maigret and enjoy the age old ding-a-ling telephone and epic long barge in one of them … couldn’t tell if it was the boardwalk or a boat during that long, long initial shot.

There was some kind of a series “Sur la piste avec Maigret” I think that was how I originally stumbled upon them.

Freethinking Festival 2008

It’s that time freethinking time again:

BBC Radio 3’s Free Thinking Festival is back in Liverpool from 31 Oct to 2 Nov 2008, with conversation, film, performance, drama and debate about the ideas that are changing the world.

Better online access this year, so no need to hug the speakers close with an eye on the clock — it’s archived here

Reformation

Here’s something to think about without ever running.

An excellent piece from The Believer, by Paul Collins about spelling reform

I’ve plenty more to say on this, but had to put it up right now because it’s a tad like chocolate mousse: should I stay back and reflect on the way the light falls on it, or take a gummy nip out of it…

Disclaimer: I could be nominated as a class A member of Tufty The Squirrel’s Woeful Spellers Club. If only Tufty had given up his obsessive interest in road safety. Spelling trauma was much more widespread in the 1970’s.

NPR piece here

Further thoughts on thinking about what Mr Murakami thought about when he was running, now that I have stopped running

Mr Murakami did not mention the hallucinations likely caused by pneumo deprivation. Like for example the other day before I had officially stopped running and was still running I saw Joe Biden sitting on a park bench wearing a pressed white shirt.  Joe Biden remained on the bench deep in thought on my second lap and I did not do a third lap so for all I know he’s still sitting there.

At the time he was rumoured to be in debate camp, but my eyes saw him on a park bench in a different country. And he was very pensive, which is vice presidential unlike the other peut etre VP twit who appears to be on non stop audition for a barn dance and might form some coherent sentences if she actually sat down on a bench.

Anyway I digress.

But if, after my paltry efforts at the sport of running, I induce visions of Biden; imagine the visions Mr Murakami has had, and omitted to tell us about. By mile 58 he surely should have been getting a peek at T-Rex (as in the dino, not the band), JFK (since oxygen deprived hallucinations appear to have a political theme). This is likely the truth behind Nessie the Loch Ness Monster. She’s real alright, but she’s international. A weekly acquaintance of anyone pacing about, torturing the achilles.