Noise Day

International Noise Day is here, and the peace lasted… 2 seconds or was that 1.956 seconds; will have to check, just to make sure.

In the meantime here’s a wee graphic thingy, a pdf clickable one is somewhere…

Int. Noise. Week

Yea.

Happy international noise awareness, abatement wee- hold on, let me just tuck these ear-plugs in a bit closer; cut out the din from the buses and racers.

Yes indeed. Happy noise week, and in keeping with the theme, what better way of placing my brass-tacks and taking part than by providing my own little collaborative snapshot of various past and present goings on affecting this little patch of diesel stained, vibrational flattened, noise challenged greenery.

Which will be up and proud and celebrating for the day itself, once its looking more presentable, than it does now.

Archie Bronson Outfit

After a brief wee sojourn into other places, I had the greatest pleasure in meeting a member of the aforementioned band – not only that but also listening (for the first time) to a copy of their latest album coconut.

What can I say apart from it’s exceptionally brilliant. 

Haven’t yet watched the dvd that came with it, but from the cd my favourite track is, without any doubt or bluster, sharks tooth – so much a favourite it took me two weeks before I stopped catching myself absently humming that addictively catchy tune, closely (nano-sliced atom closely) followed by strawberries.

So for those who have never heard them, head off over to their website and enjoy a return to the days of thoughtful, inspiring music. 

Well worth it.

Mirrored muse

“I want you dead, because you are not me.

I want you dead, because you are an atheist/christian/buddhist/hindi/jewish/muslim/agnostic piece of trash.

I want you dead because you are a communist/fascist/crypto-socialist-anarchist-capitalist.

I want you dead because you are asian/black/white/oriental/native/non-native.

I want you dead because you don't agree with me.

I want you dead because you drink tea, which is two degrees celsius too warm, and your coffee's aroma reminds me of bees.

I want you dead because you eat meat.

I want you dead because you don't eat meat.

I want you dead because you are killing your unborn child, that was forced on you without your consent.

I want you dead because you forced me to bring this child into the world.

I want you dead for only giving me boys/girls/disabled/non-disabled children.

I want you dead because the voices in my head tell me to.

I you dead because I have been ordered to kill you.

I want you dead because you are of a different...

tribe,

country,

species,

sex.

I want you dead because that will make me rich.

I want you dead, so my descendants can dance over your grave.

I want you dead, because you are me.”

Crime

“Worried about crime?

Worried about walking and viewing the causes of crime?

In fear of your life or just people that you’ll meet,

confronting the hooks and lies?

Swapping spies.

Never fear, it’s a toasty, wet, spicy slice,

of juicy full-fat life.

St. George has slain the dragon of crime.”

Chestnuts — the return.

Strangely, i was surprised by the seedlings which last year looked as if they were peering over deaths door (from the seemingly unstoppable march of the numerous diseases to afflict the species), that have now (hopefully due to the 30 year record cold-snap) sprung back into vigorous, robust and excitable (if stressed) life; whilst still occupying the same sized terracotta pot as last year.

If anything, it's probably going to be the lack of space which finishes most of them off, as they're already taller than the depth of the pot, plus the other plant that took up residence (courtesy of the higher floors) is a heavy water addict, meaning that something will eventually have to give.  I just hope it’s the pot.

In the meantime here's a pic of the the semi-happy octo-sharers…

… and a link to how they looked last year (notice the distance of the camera from the lens)

It was a lovely cloud free day

If only europe had weighed in and helped iceland during its crisis the volcano wouldn't have spluttered into a rage and winds would have blown the nasty stuff westwards depositing it into the well deserved laps of wall street, if only.

Luckily it never, and instead the skies above london have enjoyed many cloud-free, contrail-free, nice and warm spring days.

Many of those held nothing but a crisp clear blueness, slightly dappled with a sprinkling hint of lolling haziness.

Oh its good to be back.

Well (and did you expect anything else) it would have been, had the buses had their filters clogged with crap and been unable to run; the boy-racers (all three of them) ended up in a ditch somewhere - instead of destroying what would otherwise have been a historic few days of peace and quite (naturally except for christmas day) in any year that I can remember since i was popped into the world.  Or is that just since i moved to the capital?

Oh well, back to the pictures.

Picture ‘a’ - with trails, picture ‘b’ without trails or even clouds.

Picture ‘a’ (at least six con trails)

Picture ‘b’; clear blue yonder

Amazing the difference a few days of clear con-free air can make.

But I suppose it will soon sadly come to an end.  Which is probably no bad thing (especially for those travelling); as if it continued it wouldn’t be too long before the bread fights, food fights, wiping one's bottom on the nearest trashy newspaper commenced, the spectre of rationing haunting the land - well haunting the poor at any rate. 

Hm, i wonder what a bit of rationing would do for my petite, slim-line, cargo-sized waist?