I have moved to: www.duluxdreams.wordpress.com

I have moved...click on link below

2011-10-17T20:34:00.002+01:00

www.duluxdreams.wordpress.com

Major sunday morning brain activity!

2011-10-02T09:11:00.001+01:00

Just had a major breakthrough on the bus this morning. Life is a waking dream.

Let me repeat:

Life is a waking dream

Currently reading: The sorrows of Young Werther (By Goethe)

2011-10-01T13:21:00.001+01:00

When one is in love, besotted, with another, then one sees meanings everywhere and even the slightest happenance can move one to joy or despair. In this classic book Goethe describes, with almost painful honestly, how every man who has ever lived has felt when in the throes of love. There is a scene where young Werther, who is in love with Lotte, is at the carriage of her home to wave goodbye after a party. There are others there too, all waving goodbye, and young Werther is trying to catch lotte's eyes but:

"but ah, her eyes they gazed from one to another! But not at me! Me! Me! I was the only one who saw nothing there but her, and she did not look my way! My heart bade her a thousand adieus! But she did not see me! My carriage drove off and my eyes filled with tears for she had not looked at me! I looked out of the carriage and saw her bonnet and she turned to look back, ah! at me! But I am left with uncertainty. Did she look back at me or not! Was it me? Oh, what a child I am! How can one be so hungry for a look!"

I love the way Goethe describes the torments of being in love. Have we not all felt like this at some point in our lives? If not a look then perhaps a text message or email or an action or some other thing. We look for deeper meanings in the smallest things, in scraps and as a result we create a world of imagined things, of imagined lives, of imagined feelings. A whole world dwelling inside our heads constructed on the most flimsiest of foundations.

So this is what it is like to be human!

Women, sex and ancestors

2011-09-25T11:57:00.001+01:00

What does a woman have to do? Nothing! Just sit there looking all pretty. She doesn't have to do anything. She doesn't have to be brilliant at something. Nor does she need to earn lots of money, or write delicious poetry. She just needs to sit there looking all pretty and all the stupid men in the world will run after her like mosquitoes circling a light! These braindead droids of men! What do they chase? Do they chase genius? Do they chase wisdom? No, they chase beauty with their penises!

I see them everywhere! Drunk and mad is how they look and chase. Like drug addicts! The will is strong in them. The will to find a mate and have babies! There is nothing else but this that occupies the lives of people. But why? Why? Because if we didn't. If my ancestors asked these same questions and didn't bother - then I wouldn't be here! I am here because my ancestors loved sex. Loved women and men. They never asked the who and where and whys. They just got on with it! Should I thank them?

No. I don't give a monkeys! I never asked them and they never asked me. "hey Wasim we're just gonna have some sex but the result will be that sometime in the future you will be born. Is that OK with you?"

I would not have given them permission!

Postcard to my Mother

2011-09-19T22:52:00.000+01:00

visit...

2011-09-17T22:10:00.001+01:00

http://duluxdreams.wordpress.com/

Life as dream

2011-09-11T11:52:00.001+01:00

They lived in a dream. The 'Gurani' Indians that numbered 500,000 and were spread between the Atlantic coast to the east and the Andes to the west. Their whole life a narrow dream. A dream populated with spirits and the souls of ancestors. A world they made sense of in their rituals. And then the Europeans arrived in their great black ships like aliens from another planet. With their blazing metal swords and booming angry guns. They came on the waves on flying ships with huge 'wings'. Oh father! Make sense of the world to me! Father does not know. This is the beginning of the end. Oh father! What I thought I knew and what I know. The gulf infinite.

I is someone else

2011-09-11T10:50:00.001+01:00

"I is someone else". So begin the adventures of an Arthur Rimbaud: poet, incurable romantic, bad boy, bad mannered poster child of the new french poetic style. He was famous for his poetry, yet he wanted to be someone else. To fry his brain and become another. To step outside himself. How to do? How to do? We take holidays to distant lands to escape. But do we really escape? How can you escape when you take yourself along with you. The key is to become another on your travels. Leave your old self behind. Leave it behind. Start anew. See all through another's eyes. Think the thoughts of another. Be another. Be. Like. No. Other.

Planning for Travels in Chile

2011-09-11T10:14:00.001+01:00

Sometimes it is the planning and giddy anticipation of what is to come that sets the mind a-racing the heart a-beating, the imagination a-soaring. Like a modern day Ferdinand Magellan I feel. What will I find there? What will it be like? Will I fall off the edge of the world? Will I discover the secret of life?

A case of Bouffée délirante

2011-09-08T21:08:00.004+01:00

The World is my Oyster...

2011-09-07T21:09:00.003+01:00

Why is it that I am drawn to places on the edge?
At the edge of the world - I seek to find - something.
What I know not. Perhaps the answer will reveal itself - like a rainbow in a puddle -
only then to disappear just as quickly.
A place to belong - is that what I seek?
A sense of home?
To be able to sigh: 'Yes, I have finally arrived. This is where I belong'
Perhaps I am chasing phantasmas. Chasing rainbows.

Perhaps in my restless and reckless heart, I seek answers - to questions
which have none.

Last night lying in bed I realised in a fit of clarity that my life was meaningless
like a slap in the face it was. Like cold water thrown over me - I realised that nothing mattered - if I die - If I live - what I do - what I don't
it's all in vain - in the end. In the cold dark cosmic mirror between the stars,
you see no reflection and when you ask - you only hear your question.
And in last nights fit of clarity I also realised,
I could do anything...anything I wanted. Nothing matters in the end so why
not make this matter. THIS. This one and only life. This my only chance. This existence.

In the supreme face of cosmic apathy and indifference the best thing
is to stick a big 'V' at nature and scream fuck you!

It makes one feel free. Super free. To be able to say: fuck what the world say's.
I never asked for this. I will do as I want,
and nobody can stop me...

And it's true. Nobody can.

the truth is,

I really am not afraid.

And THAT scares me!

People seek order and 'stability' - when all around them chaos rages like a storm,
tossing their best laid plans to the wind.

And in the end, what do we have to live forward to?

Death.

it will come one day.

And when death comes knocking on my door,
I want to let it in happily. 'Come in death' I want to say. Not
'Keep out! Not now!'

A life lived 'deliberately', is the only life worth living.

Hahahahaha.

Yep, that's me.

I leave you now with a song that is perfect for this.

It's called 'Innuendo'...and it's by my favourite band of all time. The best band in the world! - Queen.

This really is something special. Read the lyrics. Enjoy.

Lyrics: Innuendo

(One two three four)

While the sun hangs in the sky and the desert has sand
While the waves crash in the sea and meet the land
While there's a wind and the stars and the rainbow
Till the mountains crumble into the plain

Oh yes we'll keep on trying
Tread that fine line
Oh we'll keep on trying yeah
Just passing our time

While we live according to race, colour or creed
While we rule by blind madness and pure greed
Our lives dictated by tradition, superstition, false religion
Through the aeons, and on and on

Oh yes we'll keep on trying
We'll tread that fine line
Oh oh we'll keep on trying
Till the end of time
Till the end of time

Through the sorrow all through our splendour
Don't take offence at my innuendo

You can be anything you want to be
Just turn yourself into anything you think that you could ever be
Be free with your tempo be free be free
Surrender your ego be free be free to yourself

Oooh oooh
If there's a God or any kind of justice under the sky
If there's a point if there's a reason to live or die
If there's an answer to the questions we feel bound to ask
Show yourself - destroy our fears - release your mask

Oh yes we'll keep on trying
Hey tread that fine line
Yeah we'll keep on smiling yeah (yeah yeah)
And whatever will be will be
We'll keep on trying
We'll just keep on trying
Till the end of time
Till the end of time
Till the end of time

Happy 65th birthday Freddy!

2011-09-06T23:14:00.014+01:00

Time to break free...

Isabels birthday pics: Return of the Crazies - part uno

2011-09-04T23:23:00.001+01:00

The church of Modernity.

2011-08-28T11:27:00.001+01:00

Here I am. It's Sunday morning. Monday is a bank holiday and the carnival is in town. I spent last night at a friend's place in West London. As I'd agreed to meet my friend later in the evening and since I had arrived in the area a little early, I had plenty of time to kill. So what does one do when one has time a-plenty in Shepherds Bush? Visit the brand new church ofcourse!

I know what you are thinking. What is this church to which I refer? Well It is no ordinary 'church'. Like all churches it has high vaulted ceilings. Like most churches it has a dome roof of clear glass through which heavenly light showers through lighting the top of the heads of the congregation and worshippers. But this is no ordinary congregation and this no ordinary church either.

The church I am referring to is called 'The Westfield Shopping Centre' and people flock to it in their thousands in search of answers! They visit the house of Gucci and the house of Armani. They prostrate themselves at the Emporium of Adidas and seek wisdom from the oracle of Apple. They walk around for hours and hours like benumb zombies circling the two floors of the church like they do in Muslim Mecca. And then, having ostensibly found what they are looking for, they return home satisfied and content.

Until that is the next morning when they wake up and realise nothing has changed. Their lives are still as meaningless and empty as before. They are still none the wiser. Life continues to show them a mysterious face. They look at yesterday's shopping bags and wonder why they brought what they did. At the time, in the church of Westfield, that Prada handbag and the new Iphone4 was answering all their prayers. But today in the cold and honest and harsh light of the morning, in the light of their room and amongst the ordinary furniture of their home, that bag looks different. It seems they were duped. They were lied to. Salvation does not live in the church of Westfield.

I spent five hours in the church of Westfield yesterday and I didn't feel a thing.

Actually wait I lie. I did feel something.

I felt profound relief when I got out. At times it felt like being in a circus. A nightmare. A fairground ride. A merry-go-round but without the merriment.

What I can see today

2011-08-27T13:27:00.001+01:00

I can see a blonde mother with her teenage daughter and younger son. Mother and daughter want to go into T. K. Maxx for more shopping but the son is standing outside refusing to go in. The poor lad has had enough shopping with these never-satisfied women! He wants out. Who can blame him?

I can see a couple holding hands. Now he has put his arms on her shoulder - weakly. He feels uncomfortable. Are they meeting in central London illicitly? Perhaps her parents don't approve of him? She is pretty and there is an air of royalty about her. She has a certain grace and walks as if she is comfortable in her own skin. Comfortable in who she is. Confident. They say confidence is sexy and it can't be faked.

What is confidence and why are some people more sure then others? Do they know or understand something that lesser mortals don't? Do they have access to the secret of life or some other esoteric knowledge?! Is confidence steeped in the real world or is it more about how you feel inside? The world is full of people who have something to be confident about but aren't confident at all. And the world is full of even more people who have less to be confident about but are very confident indeed.

I look at the couple again. I know what it is. As a writer you must get into and under the skins of people, and I think I have understood those weak gestures. That luke-warm hand draped on the shoulder. That wet kiss like a fish. That weak fire of passion that burns not like a roaring tiger but a mouse. He is not sure if he deserves her. That's what it is. He thinks she might be too good for him. Yet it is this same feeling of inadequacy that he has, that will fuel his jealousy and eventually drive her away from him. I can see their future in a weak kiss!

I feel like I can see everything today. Nothing escapes me. Perched as I am on this lofty peak why don't I cast this gaze, this all seeing eye, inwards. What will I find in me? Perhaps I am afraid?

Yes I am afraid. Better to keep the demons locked up!

And throw away the key.

Mobile blogging from my new 'Samsung Galaxy S2' smartphone

2011-08-26T21:17:00.004+01:00

The future just got better. The future is bright. The future is Orange. The future is mobile blogging.

This blog entry is being written, composed and posted from the balcony of a friends flat. I am not in front of a computer. I am standing outside with the rain lashing at my feet - and i am writing this from my brand new smartphone.

I am trying to think of words to express my proudness. Erm...is proudness the right word? Or maybe better to say to express my feeling of utter drunken amazement at being able to do this. To be able to post a blog entry from anywhere on this fucking planet! I feel like Superman. Not Nietzches Uber man, but Clark Kent`s alter ego. I cannot believe and can barely comprehend the possibilities mobile `on the go` blogging have suddenly opened up. You have no idea! The floodgates have suddenly opened up for me. I can now post 'instantly' what i think the very moment i think it. I am so happy i think i am about to cry. I am er...no not drunk...just a little sozzled n inebriated. No! I should not write in textology. Shame on me! Full sentences only. I am still getting used to typing on this wonderful touch screen. Yes it is smaller then the typing surface of a laptop - but it has predictive text and it can learn my typing behaviour. It knows what words I mean. It knows me very well....and we only just met!

Wow! Today i am proud to be human. Proud at our - the human races's achievements. Proud to be able to blog mobilingly...is that even a word?!

Over and out.

This message was sent by a slightly drunk Me from the Samsung Galaxy S2. Gosh! I think i am in love. I have found my soul-mate. I have found 'her'. The 'one' i have been searching for all of my miserable life (i wonder if she allows me to type in italics?)

Please visit my alter-ego at my new blog (click on link below)

2011-08-26T20:07:00.003+01:00

http://duluxdreams.wordpress.com/

Currently reading: Open City (By Teju Cole)

2011-08-24T20:29:00.000+01:00

Along the streets of Manhattan, a young Nigerian doctor doing his residency training wanders aimlessly. The walks meet a need for Julius: they are a release from the tightly regulated mental environment of work, and they give him the opportunity to process his relationships, his present, his past - his recent breakup. Though he is navigating the busy parts of town, the impression of countless faces does nothing to reduce his feelings of isolation. But it is not only a physical landscape he covers; Julius crisscrosses social territory as well, encountering people from different cultures and classes who will provide insight on his journey - which takes him to Brussels, to the Nigeria of his youth, and into the most unrecognisable facets of his own soul.

Extraordinary stuff.

The Best Gringo's Guide to South America ever!

2011-08-23T22:52:00.006+01:00

http://www.amazon.co.uk/South-American-Handbook-Footprint-Handbooks/dp/1907263438/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1314135324&sr=8-1

This is required reading material for any Gringo of quality...

The above is a link to the best guide to South America. It quite simply tramples the 'Lonely Planet' guide and all other guides into the Peruvian mud! Why is it better then other guide books? Well let me tell you:

a) It is updated every year - so has the latest information (unlike the Lonely Planet Guides which are updated every 4-5 years!)
b) It tells you the time-tables for bus services in even the most remotest of mountain regions - places you wouldn't even dream of going. Places that civilisation hasn't touched and where the locals look like inbred mutants. But it is nice to have that information in your fingertips - just in case!
c) It has a hard cover and is small and light.

Caught by the Travel Bug...in South America

2011-08-23T21:14:00.010+01:00

In around and abouts mid-December 2011, I will be heading off to Latin America for a much needed spiritual awakening. My inspiration meter is low - in fact, the tank is almost empty!

So to recharge, and re-boot, I will be donning those rugged trainers, the jeans, and the ruck-sack + camera + little laptop (for mobile blogging) + kindle (loaded with a lifetimes worth of reading material) + 2 t-shirts + 1 shirts + a healthy dose of wanderlust + passport + money + contact lenses + plane tickets + Latin translator (they speak Latin in Latin America silly billy!) + Christian cross (In case I need to prove I am a Christian) so that I am not burnt at the stake by some Conquistadores or followers of Pizzaro.

The idea being to wonder about this part of the world a little bit. It is a big part of the world and I intend to see as much of it as possible before I die. No! You have misunderstood me! I have no intention of actually DYING on the trip! Oh no. I hope to stay alive if possible. I hope to keep the ghost for a while yet - the ghost of my life force.

And wonder I will, wherever the heart will take me, wherever I feel like it, in my own style and my own pace and on my own legs. I will not hurry. I will not rush. I will not aim to see as much as possible so that I can tick those "I have been there" boxes. I will not be a tourist. I will not take stupid photos of myself in front of Machu Picchu to tell people that 'I WAS HERE!' - How degrading! LOOK AT ME! LOOK WHERE I AM! LOOK WHERE I HAVE BEEN! - Idiotos...

No! No! No!

I have better style then those idiot tourists with 2 brain cells. Oh yes! I will be a wanderer. An adventurer! An explorer of the mind. I will seek out and discover new life. And new things. And if I am lucky - really really lucky - I might even...find ...myself.

Oooh, how exciting to find oneself. But how strange no? To go to the other side of the world looking...for yourself! But isn't that what real travel is really all about? Its not places we seek. It's not little corners of the world. Its not caves or secret beaches or remote deserts or peaceful mountains. We seek ourselves. The truth is, that in modern life in a modern metropolis like London - you never have time for yourself. Its always about yourself in relation to others. You're never on your own. In fact - people are afraid of there own shadows and reflections. That is why whenever they are alone for a minute they take out their Iphones and Blackberries and get connected! Or play games! So they don't have to have an inner dialogue with themselves!

But who are you? Who really am I? Who is anybody? To answer this question you must surround yourself not by others, but by your own voice. And I'll be hearing plenty of 'my own voice' alone on my travels.

The truth is that I am good friends with myself. We (me and me) get on very well! I got to know me very well over the course of many previous travels and discussions. But I have been neglecting me for a while now! I have put me in a closet and I have shut the door. But it is now time. Time to let me out.

I can't wait! - Hahahaha

Tonight I will watch 'The Motorcycle Diaries' as a celebration and a sort of mental preparation for South America.

Over the course of the next weeks and months I will be writing a whole host of travel related articles on this blog. So watch out! Some will be useful. Some a little strange. Many a little mad. And most will no doubt be totally and wholly out of this world. If you want to join me on an adventure - an adventure with no limits - then stay with me. You might not be travelling with me - but through the medium of the printed word - through the use of 26 letters of the English alphabet - I may be able to work some magic with my fingers - and for a while - for an instant - transport you - as if on a magic carpet - to my side...

I will take you with me on my trip, and you will see and taste and feel - as I.

I leave you now with the following words:

We travel not for trafficking alone;
By hotter winds our fiery hearts are fanned:
For lust of knowing what should not be known
We take the Golden Road to Samarkand.

Saturday Picnic - Regents Park

2011-08-14T20:12:00.005+01:00

Memories

One day all this but memories

Of the times we had

Things we did

Things we said

How we laughed

and shrieked

& got drunk.

How you stole my cigarettes

and begged me

for my lighter!

Memories, all but memories

How we celebrated this crazy thing

called Life

In the sunrise of our youth
In the ascendancy of our powers

Memories

One day all but memories

This Miracle

Of a beautiful life.

How I love you!
Though you sometimes hurt me so.

London's Burning! London's Burning!

2011-08-08T20:16:00.003+01:00

It all reminds me of that Clash Song from the 80's:

London's burning!
London's burning!

All across the town,

all across the night

Everybody's driving with full headlights

Black or white turn it on,

face the new religion

Everybody's sitting 'round watching television!

London's burning with boredom now

London's burning dial 99999

I can hear police sirens as I type this. When I switch on the telly I am confronted by images of hooded youths on bikes throwing missiles at police, burning bins, and buildings raging with fire - all not far from where I live. Am I in a warzone in Afghanistan? Is this Iraq? No, this is London. London is under siege my friends. Under siege by jobless hooded youths - who are either, not at school / college because of the summer breaks, or are jobless because the economy is so fucked. Is there a cause or is this just the will-full mindless violence of a generation brought up on violent computer games - starving for some real world excitement?

Who to blame?

The cosy politicians with their austerity cuts? Cuts to education. Cuts to welfare spending. Cuts to the public sector. Cuts to the health service. Cuts to community services. Extra tuition fees. Fewer university places. Fewer jobs. Less of everything - but more things you want to buy. More things to buy! The types of shops that were looted tells you something about what these people want: the latest fucking trainers and big wide screen TV's so they can watch themselves on the telly attacking and looting. Their ugly mugs stapled all over the TV news - in High Definition! Morons.

My mind is awash with thoughts. That is why this blog entry is not coherent. It is rambling, I am rambling, my brain is under siege with conflicting ideas and theories and thoughts all vying for attention. I am angry. I am angry with the mindless opportunistic violence. I am angry with the politicians for creating a whole generation of lost youth. Yes they are lost. With no qualifications and no prospects - what will they do?

But there is something else that is eating at me. It is this: we live in a city and a world (at least in the West) where society functions. Criminals are caught and prosecuted. Violent acts are prevented. But this is only because these criminal activities happen sporadically and are spaced out in time. The police can deal with them because they don't require a concentration of force. But when they happen all at once - in different locations - when there is communication between the no-gooders that allows them to logisticise their activities - when the thugs have numbers on their sides - when the trouble makers use Blackberry Messaging services such as BBM to organise - then we have trouble. Then the police are stretched. And this is what we are seeing in London. A thin blue line of police that can't cope.

Get a group of people organised - and you'll get trouble. That is why in the old days of revolutions - gatherings of more then 3 people in town squares were forbidden.

But there is something else also I wish to discuss. Something more morbid and dark. Something that is gnawing away at my brain. Eating away at my skull. It is this: We think we live in a stable world where things work - but that skin of stability is very thin indeed. Tenuous. It doesn't take much to pierce it you know. And when it pierces the seething, malevolent, selfish, bad, violent, greedy side of humanity surfaces. A side that is normally kept in check by social order processes - police, the army, threat of prosecution, courts etc. But when that breaks down - when the police can't cope - civilization crumbles - cities burn - people get hurt.

We are a fucked up race. Humanity! What a joke! We rape and pillage this planet. We cause endless suffering to countless creatures. We are genocidal, suicidal, megalomaniacal, infanticidal, racial, profligate, lecherous, and greedy beyond measure. And outside I can hear police cars. I can hear a police helicopter buzzing above my head and on the news, London burns. London is burning. Black smoke is bellowing and belching. Shops are being raided. Livelihoods are being destroyed. Hackney is burning to the ground. The world is watching as we kill ourselves. This world is fucked. Where all gonna die. Let the cockroaches take-over! - Yeah!

Wasim. Blog Reporter. Live from a Warzone in Hackney. Over and Out.

Sunday despatches from a Man Alive

2011-08-07T11:45:00.003+01:00

Leisure-time is the flower, or rather, the fruit of existence, as it puts a man in possession of himself. So those will be happiest in leisure who possess something real in themselves. During the day I don't possess myself - work possesses me - I belong to work. In the evenings it is a different matter altogether. In the evenings I am mine - I belong to me! Hands off!

*****

If you think about it everybody does what is best for himself. The man who pushes to the front of the queue is doing it for himself. The girl who dumps her boyfriend is not acting out of malice - but self interest. The man who robs is doing it for his children. The inquisitors of the Spanish Inquisition with Torquemada as their head burnt heretics on the stake to save their souls from further blasphemy. The Nazis incinerated the Jews because they believed the world would be a better place without them. There is no such thing as pure evil in the world. Only terribly misguided, ignorant, ill-conceived, ill-thought-out, actions warped by wrong ideas. Everyman thinks he is doing right. No man thinks himself to be doing wrong. Only in the minds of others, is evil as a tangible thing, brought to conception. The cure for the troubles of the world I know: "look at every person that lives as if they're your very own child - would you throw bombs at your children? Everybody that lives has a mother - and when that person suffers, a mothers grief is born". If only we all remembered this in our daily lives - would we not then be kinder and gentler to our fellow citizens?

*****

Man is the only creature in the world who kills for reasons other than food, land, sex (access to females) and survival. What are these 'other' reasons? No other animal but man kills because of the Ideas you hold in your brain? No other animal kills another because he poses a future threat. No other animal but man kills because it makes him feel good. No other animal but man kills because he wishes to wipe you out completely. No other animal kills for punishment or for revenge for something you have done in the past. No other animal kills because you do not share the same beliefs. The race of men kill consciously and deliberately. It is a part of the same intellectual heritage that enables us to contemplate the stars. Without one there would be no other. There is no art without pain. There is no love without heart-ache. There is no good without evil. The blade cuts both ways.

*****

There is nothing more pleasurable in life then fresh coffee served with a fresh oven baked baguette that is spread liberally with a dashing of golden full-fat butter. The whole is perfected by a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. Aaaahh refreshing! And to crown this glorious achievement is you - sitting in front of your laptop - tapping away at the keys - writing - in the knowledge that you have written something and that it is written well - and that you have expressed something seemingly ineffable. In short: doing what you enjoy and doing it well! - That is what gives me pleasure. Doing what I enjoy doing and doing it well - and trying to improve it as I go along.

I play with words like dough balls - like small spheres of oven baked bread - I play with them in my hands - shape them to my liking - apply pressure on one side and you have a flattened disk - you can pull, squeeze, squash, stretch and contort them. They are words and like set-jelly, you can make them into any shape you want. And what if you don't have anything to say?

Rubbish!

You are alive aren't you tonta?! So describe what it feels like. Pause for a moment and describe what it is like at this very moment - to be you.

Why would people want to read such stuff?

Because in you, they may find, a piece of themselves...

Words

2011-08-05T00:49:00.004+01:00

Coming soon...Wedding - The Pics

2011-07-24T21:47:00.007+01:00

A choice selection of juicy dodgy snaps from the night of purple drinks and tummy bugs.

Be afraid...

...Very afraid. Hooooo-hahahahahahaaaaaaaaa! (evil laugh)

Asian Wedding - A Review!

2011-07-24T19:01:00.009+01:00

So...I went!

I decided to go as I thought it would be an interesting experience for me - to attend an Asian wedding, and immerse myself in the subtle nuances and fine granulations of Asian culture. I always feel like a fish out of water at these things!

So there I found myself in a large banqueting hall, seated on round tables, sipping orange juice - whilst around me the show went on in all its pomp and splendour. Now that I think about it, the hall resembled a converted cinema. The entrance and initial hall area was higher then the stage. The stage was decorated in the usual refinements and a long white couch where the bride and groom would eventually sit and have their pictures taken with the various guests. I was seated on the table right at the end of the first section so that I was looking down on the tables in the second section. Now that I have described the hall I will now describe my thoughts. Many thoughts competed for space in my head as I attempted to make sense of the whole thing. Thoughts such as:

A large % of the people here are close genetic relations of mine. We share a common origin - yet look how wide the river bank of our differences now is. We are now like two people that began a journey together but have drifted to opposite banks of the river. The two of us are now mere pin-pricks in the distance - shouting and waving a language at each other - a language that we no longer share.

Can people who started off on the same road together become so different as the journey progresses? How is that possible?

It is possible because we are buffeted by different winds. Imagine two sail boats in the vast ocean of life. Now imagine two trade winds that blow differently. One trade wind the 'zephyr' blows hard and to the south west. The other trade wind called 'leper' blows to the north west but also occasionally blow eastwards. These two winds act on one boat and one boat only such that after a year, 2 years, 5 years - the boats will wildly differ in their position on the ocean of life. People are like that too and the winds that affect us are myriad in nature. They have names like: education, friends, books, movies, music, genes, influences, chance, necessity, darkness, light, belief etc.

So as I sit there in the banqueting hall surrounded by bangra music blaring through the speakers and an army of faces I have not seen for a while - it seems to me, that these people haven't changed at all. Or maybe they have changed and It is I that has remained still? It is a thought that bothers me all evening. Who is it that has done the moving apart? Me or them? I think it is the former, it is I, who has moved away, and they have remained stationary. I am struck by this thought and as I look into the face of the man sitting next to me - a face I recognise - I notice that he has grown greyer since I last saw him, his skin has lost some of its elasticity, his eyes have dimmed in their sparkle, his body has thinned - and the suit that used to fit him so well - the same suit - now fits him awkwardly - as though it is no longer his.

Sadness - sadness...is the underlying feeling and theme of my thoughts. I am attacked by sadness - the sadness of a past we can no longer reclaim - that what is lost. But I also feel another sadness - a sadness more profound but I struggle to pinpoint its source. Why am I feeling sad? Because I realise, in an excruciating moment of crystal clarity, that I no longer care. I couldn't give a damn anymore. This is no longer a life I recognise and these people, though we share a common origin - are strangers - albeit strangers with recognisable faces. I know this man. I have seen him countless times. He is a relation of mine. But this is all that binds us - blood and kinship. Who is he really? Beyond the face that I recognise from childhood - who is this man? And suddenly, in a moment of electric shock; as I stare at him harder, his face melts away, and I no longer recognise the face either. He is now nothing.

The other thing that strikes me is the contrast in the hall between what the children experience and what the adults see. For the children it is magical - the beautifully laid out tables, the red napkins, the purple lights, the little goody bags full of sweets, the endless glasses of orange juice and purple drink. For the children who sit around a single table - as their parents sit on another table - for the children this is great! Here they are and they can make as much noise as they want! Nobody will say shhhhush! They can sit on their own around the table - with endless bottles of soft drinks - and then be served food by an army of waiters. These are children who very rarely go to restaurants - and here they are - being served food. Chicken, fish, rice, bread, and desserts. They're having fun - they can run around - chase balloons - play hide and seek in the endless caverns. They can go under tables and play home. They can move around the vast spaces of the hall - far away from their parents - and do what they want! What a great thing it must be for a child to be at such a wedding! I catch myself wishing I was one of them - how fuller - more colourful - more romantic - more sublime - more magical - the wedding would then be!

For the adults its all another world. A world of petty rivalry and upmanship. There is little magic but only something to complain about. For adults its about pretending to be nice to people that you must say hello to because - by some unfathomable quirk of genetics - you find yourself related to them! Call me cynical but the fact is that this is a 'family' wedding and the vast majority of the people here are kin - i.e. family relations. How many people in our family do we honestly get on and have something in common with? Who are the people that you are related to, that when you see them, your eyes light up and your mouth widens in genuine affection and genuine 'looking forward to meeting'? Not many! Now imagine, putting all these people together...in a hall! The only reason there is no blood bath is because there are only together for 4 hours and the music drowns out most of what they say anyway!

For me it was similar. One idiot (wearing a baseball cap - who wears a baseball cap at a wedding anyway?!) accosted me and said "I've been watching you for an hour and you never came up to say hello to me". I looked at him startled and replied "Well I was busy taking photos". To which he mumbled something inscrutable and trudged off - I still have no idea who he was! Such encounters I suppose are expected!

I meet the parents of the bride and they are both happy to see me and I congratulate them on the wedding. As the party continues and the bride walks in to a round of applause - and as we are treated to whole host of sounds and tastes, I find myself going into David Attenbrough documentary mode - and pretending that I am a wildlife documentary maker in the African bush - who has just chanced upon an elaborate mating ritual!

And it does feel like an elaborate mating ritual. The groom arrives fully attired on a horse with a sword in his hand surrounded by 6 burly men all singing and dancing. They then stroll into the hall - the groom making gestures with his sword - until they reach the main stage, and then they stand on the steps of the stage - the groom waving his sword about like a phallus, and his entourage of men growling in deep voices what can only be some sort of male mating song! - This is male machismo at its prime. I am a man, and I have a sword, and with this, I deflower thee...I'm not going to go into the anthropological significance of the sword, but it is clear that male birds of paradise have fantastically bright feathers and plumage, precisely because they want to attract the best females. In fact there is a bird in Papa New Guinea that performs an elaborate 'dance' - in which it spreads its feathers to reveal the bright colours inside when it wants to attract and impress a female. We are also part of the animal kingdom and we too have our rituals!

It's all a game.

In the end its all a game - the greatest show on earth...

...life!

And what advice would I give the married couple? If they had forced me to sit on the stage with them what would I have said? How would the conversation have gone? Well let me invent a fictional conversation for your pleasure!

[wasim] "Hello"
[married couple - MC] "Who are you?'
[wasim] "I'm Wasim"
[MC] "Do we know you?"
[wasim] "Well you should. Apparently were related" at which point the bride looks at me more carefully and says "are you sure?"
[wasim] "yes, we are. Anyway since I am here lets talk about something. Lets talk about marriage!"
[MC] "OK. Go on then"
[wasim] "marriage...Mmm....what an intriguing idea....Mmm...a ritual of great interest to scientists..." at which point I am interrupted by the groom and bride
[MC] "are you a scientist or something?"
[wasim] "nope, not a scientist, but I am a philosopher of sorts...look let me give you some advice on marriage - yeah?"
[MC] "yeah please!"
[wasim] "enjoy the party today guys...it's all down hill from here!!"

I know. I know. I am so horrible. How horrible and mean spirited of me. But then this conversation never actually happened - so sue me scumbags!

To go or not to go....that is the question

2011-07-23T00:16:00.005+01:00

It's 12:06am and I've just returned home from a lovely meal in the South African Fish Market...I had 6 Oysters for starters - 4 with lemon juice and 2 with Tabasco chili source. The oysters were huge, cold, and tasted like sea water. They were delicious. For mains it was sea bass cooked in lemon sauce. For dessert I had Creme Brulee - and for drinks - a whole bottle of red wine! Cabernet Sauvignon I believe It was...anyway...I have just got home, am lying in bed with the laptop on my lap, slightly drunk (but not too much) and I am debating with myself whether I should go to this wedding tomorrow that I have been invited to. The wedding is in Birmingham and it is supposed to be a classy affair. It is my fathers side of the family you see. A family wedding - yes one of those! I don't normally 'do' weddings. I steer clear of them usually. But this one seems to have caught me in its claws.

There is a piece of me that doesn't want to go, because it is afraid that it will be a waste of time and this piece of me would rather spend the time doing something else. There is another piece of me that would like me to go - because it would be a unique experience and something different...

What am I afraid of? People? Well in short yes! I am afraid of ending up on a table full of people I don't know - with no conversation whatsoever, slowly rotting to death of utter boredom. I am afraid of being bored. I am NEVER bored. If I have nothing to do I usually read a book or think...

....maybe I have nothing to worry about. If I get bored I can think - no? Yes - I will be taking my brain along so if I need to use it, I can think! But think of what? Think of how bored I am! What a stupid thing to think about...

If I do go I will be taking along my Fuji X100 camera...so expect some photos - and also expect a detailed blog post on the whole bloody experience. Warts and all. If there is pain at this wedding I will write about it. If there is passion I will write about it also. If there is love you will hear of it first and if there is comedy, I will make sure to make you laugh.

OK, let me sleep on it and in the morning I will decide whether to go or not. I wish somebody would make the decision for me - life would be so much easier. It really would!

To go or not to go....that is the question...ZzzzZZzz...

The art of Life

2011-07-18T20:47:00.018+01:00

As I lay supine on desert sand

the happiest creature in this world of Man

I look up and spy the sky

Oh vaulted roof! - My room tonight!

With blinking stars for a canopy

nothing more I need for me

For a bed I have the softest sand

king-size? double? - as vast as this land!

For entertainment: memories like a butterfly

captured in the tide - the tide of life

For a lamp: the full moon held aloft

See! casting a beam, silvery soft

For water I have the stream besides
that ripples, and gurgles. Woe betide,

the traveller - who dreams - all alone

of women, and riches, he'd rather own

...and see's nothing of treasures laid bare

in front, above - Oh! Everywhere!

Speak not of things you do not own

love life
let live

and never moan!

________

How to grow up & other thoughts

2011-07-16T16:35:00.113+01:00

i) Transformers 3

What a miserable day its has been today. LondonTown drenched in showers! The entire day a wash-out - low dark clouds. Perpetual rain. Soggy feet. Umbrellas and raincoats. The golden glow of coffee shops promising warmth, dryness, life-giving coffee and delicious cakes. That's what I did this morning - drank coffee and read and dreamt, and then I went and ruined it by watching the movie 'Transformers 3' in 3D no less! Why? Because I'd read a review somewhere by a respected reviewer (respected by myself - not respected anymore though!), who had said that too many of us take movies far too seriously. That we expect movies to be deep philosophical musings on human existence, and that we should relax a little, take a chill pill, and sometimes shut our brains, and watch a movie purely for the pleasure of it. So that's what I did. I bought a ticket for Transformers 3 - bought some of those disgusting Mexican nacho things with that yellow gooey stuff on them (called cheese?) - queued with some 13 year olds - went in - sat down - shut my brain off - and watched Transformers 3...

...and?

...and I survived.

Just about. By the knuckle of my teeth. The movie is a computer game! It has more explosions then all the world-wars combined. Every explosion was like an attack of intestinal diarrhea as my intestines slowly travelled up and up and up into my throat, until they were knocking on the door of my skull and threatening to stab my brain to death. They agreed not to when I promised them that I would be doing something more 'worthy' of my great intellect after the movie...

The 13 year olds loved the movie though. Well of course they would - duh duh! It's been a few hours now since I watched it and I've totally forgotten what it was about. Seems like my brain has decided to delete / expunge all evidence of this illicit movie act from its memory circuits. Never again. Ever. Never will I be seduced by the promise of orgasmic big explosions and special affects.

ii) How to grow up / or whether to grow up!

I've been thinking about something today. Or rather, I've continued to think about it today as I've been thinking about it over the last few days. What I've been thinking about is growing up. These are my thoughts on the matter:

As children we have a totally different view of the world. The world is wonderful and fun and interesting. For children the world is a magical fairy-ground ride. The parks are wide open green spaces with an endless blue sky above and s p a c e to run around and play football in. The buses are wonderful places from the top-deck from which to look down on the heads of people. The Underground is one big ride. The shops are full of toys and sweets and things we want. McDonald's milkshakes taste yummy. You can never eat enough sweets. The world is full of ghosts. Your neighbour is a witch and eats children and there are lots of mysteries in the world. Father Christmas is a bearded man and we wish grandfather was like him! - Also in childhood emotions are simple: if you hate someone you tell them. You like someone you tell them. Someone is fat so you make fun of them. Someone is ugly and you tell them. You like a girl and you turn red at the cheeks and then buy her a sweet. You hang out with your friends and you speak loudly - you say what you want - behave as you like. You also enjoy simple pleasures. The chicken and chips from the KFC that you bought for £1.99 taste nice and it doesn't matter if they're not good for you. It don't matter if the taste is not 'sophisticated' - it don't matter. You like chicken and chips because they're cheap, they taste nice, and they fill you up! Simple!

Look at the faces of young people. What do you see? Worry lines? No! Worry free looks and bright shining eyes! Healthy minds not yet poisoned...Living in a world that is simple and uncomplicated...

and now...

...compare that life with that of an adult. Look at the adults in McDonalds stuffing their bellies with burgers and fries. Not enjoying them at all! Just filling their hunger as quick as possible! Like putting petrol in a car. You call that living? I don't. Taste is one the most beautiful of senses and pleasures. We should taste our food, saviour it on the tongue, in the mouth, before er, pushing it down the throat!

What else?

The life of adults is complicated. Oh so so complicated! Full of worries. Like a thousand arrows these worries come from all directions. In the bum, through the nose, through the ears. What are these so called 'worries'? Let me tell you: Boredom. Jealousy. Hatred. Anger. Sexual frustration. Money (or lack of). Annoying husbands / wives / relatives / children. Jobs that slowly kill us. And so many more.

Why do these things not bother children?

Let's look at them one by one!

Boredom = children don't get bored. The world is a magical playground. Full of wonder, and witches and demons and goblins and Harry Potter

Jealousy = a child's jealousy is limited to not having a toy that their friend/brother-sister has. It's not the all-consuming jealousy of adults that eats away like a cancer, and besides, a child's jealousy is short lived and eventually disappears

Hatred = children might hate someone but its more of a weak hate and not the cancer-like hate that adults allow to grow inside of them - like a mutant baby!

Anger = a child's anger will be directed at an individual. An adult's anger (is usually) directed at the whole world - but there are exceptions!

Sexual frustration = none. Sex is simply not an important part of a child's life landscape.

Money = as long as they have the basics children are happy.

Husbands/wives/children = none cos they're too young to have any of these!

Jobs = too young to work (lucky sods!)

So here is the question I am begging to ask you: Why the fuck would you want to grow up at all?!

And if you do - why leave ALL childish things behind? Surely, we can pick and choose, and keep some childish things into adulthood?

Is the world as seen from a child's point of view better? More accurate? More real?

Or is the world as seen from an adults point of view better? More accurate? More real?

How do we judge? Who say's what is better? More real? Us! Adults! - how can that be fair or right?

What is to say that a child's life is the best - and that adult life is a disaster!!

Why do we always automatically assume that a child's world is not real? 'Oh grow up!' we scream when someone is being 'childish'.

What I'm really trying to say is that we should keep something of that child inside of us as we grow older. That sense of wonder and adventure for example is a wonderful thing - but we lose it! We fucking grow up and lose it! We should not let family and people make our lives miserable. We should do what we want and not worry too much about consequences - because, in the end, we're all gonna die anyway. We shouldn't think too much of the future - because the future is not real. Only the here-and-now is real.

We chase dreams and illusions all our lives. We are fed lies about what a 'happy life' is all about, and we chase and chase and chase this butterfly - but we can never keep up, because we have endless 'wants' and 'needs'. The stomach of human greed gets bigger and bigger the more it is filled with things. The stomach of human greed has endless capacity! It never says: 'Oh! I think I've had enough!'. The human animal can never have enough. That is what Buddhism and certain Eastern philosophies (and Arthur Schopenhauer) recognised in their teachings. That is why many monks and other wise men throughout history have led ascetic lives. In caves. In the desert. In the jungles. Lives of simplicity. I'm not saying go and live in a cave or the desert! I am not saying that. But keep some of that cave, that desert inside of you - though you might be living in a busy city like London - think yourself like a desert - a cave - and distance yourself - from the poison arrows of adulthood!!

You can never have enough - but you can limit what you expect from life

It goes like this:

'It's not about how much you do want. It's about how much you don't want'

Strip out the crap - the junk - and you'll be much happier. Promise (or your money back!)

Amen!

iii) The best drinks experience in the world - ever!

When you've gone to bed having eaten a turkish kebab, or something spicy the night before - only to then wake up in the middle of the night with a parched throat feeling very thirsty. You then walk to the kitchen in your pyjamas with your eyes barely open, and you make yourself an ice-cold diet Coke with 7 (yes 7!) ice-cubes and a slice of lemon. You then pour this beautiful ice-cold drink down your throat and watch your thirst disappear...Mmmm...try it! - the best drinks experience in the world (and no hangover to worry about!)

______________

Friday Night Pics - Restaurant Momo

2011-07-11T22:26:00.005+01:00

All images taken with the Fuji X100 digital camera. Camera settings used: 35mm fixed lens at aperture f2 and ISO range 1,600 - 3,200. For those that don't know (or have been living on the moon lately!) the Fuji X100 has been a highly sort after camera thanks to its retro cool styling. But there is more to this beauty then just looks. Look beneath the bonnet and you'll find it has brains to match! It features a high quality APS-C sized imaging sensor and a brand new processing engine that allows excellent hand-held low-light street photography - all in a small form factor (size). This is an excellent camera and has a radical hybrid viewfinder, that can be switched between a normal optical viewfinder and an electronic viewfinder with the flick of a switch. It is much lighter and smaller then my Canon 5D Mark II and associated lens combo. It's also a real joy to use. A real pleasure to hold in the hand and play with (ahem)...

And oh yes, that's me smoking a cigarette below - so sue me scumbags!

The Tree Of Life

2011-07-09T22:35:00.001+01:00

A paen to birth, life, death, faith, purpose - and the meaning of it all in the grand scheme of the cosmos. Terrence Malick takes us on an epic visual journey from the birth of the universe, the formation of stars, the genesis of life, to contemporary day family life in the 1950's. This entire movie is a visual poem. You will either 'get it' or you'll be perplexed by the whole damn thing. Is this a work of sublime genius? Or is it a bloated piece of pretentious film-making? Is Terrence Malick a genuine visionary or has he got his head stuck up his arse?! Whatever your views, not since Stanley Kubrick's '2001: A space odyssey' have we been served such a rich dish. Recommended - but only if you let it take you by the hand. Don't resist it. Don't expect anything. Let all your expectations of movies fly out the window. Go into the cinema theatre with an open heart and open eyes. There is little dialogue. The affect is curiously subconscious relying on visuals and short pithy voice overs.

I've noticed how the camera is always at waist height - and always facing upwards - with the sky and the sun in almost all outdoor shots. Even indoor shots feature bright windows with sunlight streaming in. The sun is a key part of this movie. The sun is the giver of life. It is the other 'father', the other provider, in addition to Brad Pitts stern patriarch. What does it all mean? I think each person will take something different from it - that being the Director's aim.

Men with moustaches

2011-06-27T23:49:00.001+01:00

Previously I was having a go at tourists. Now I will have a go at men with...mustachios. There is a well known quote which goes thus:

'When in Rome, do as the Romans do'

(St Ambrose)

The meaning of this is simple. Behave as those around you. Before I continue I'd just like to make absolutely clear that I am not a Fascist, or a Nazi nor a Communist. I'm a humanist. A humanist with strong opinions about er mustachios! Now, there will be some of you out there who will no doubt be vociferously saying: 'Leave the moustache alone! If it is bad God would never have invented it!'

To this I say: 'Piles, Boils, Aids, Smallpox, The Plague, Hernias, leaking nipples (leaking nipples?), Gonorrhoea, Herpes and bad-breath have all been given to us by God - so are they good? Must we like these things?'

Of course not!

So let's come back to the moustache. What is it about the moustache that really drives me mad? Well, there are a number of things:

1) A moustache looks like a bit of pubic hair above the lip. What sensible women would want to kiss that! If I was a women (which I evidently am not) I would never ever kiss a man with a moustache. Surely it must itch? No? Show me a women that loves a man with a moustache and I will show you a madwoman with no taste. Also, it must constitute a health hazard. Home to species new to science and all...

2) We live in the 21st Century. It is the year 2011. In the old days, one could be forgiven for nurturing a moustache (like one nurtures a vegetable patch in the garden) because, in those days, shaving was a real pain in the ass. Literally. You could die shaving. A nasty cut - infection - death! There was no Gillette Ultra-glide shaving foam, nor the 5-bladed Fusion blade razor with battery powered vibrating head - for extra close shaving. Walk into the mens section of any chemist and you will be assaulted by an entire range - nay a cornucopia - of mens shaving products. There is no excuse anymore to grow a squirrel above your lip. Shave it off Mankind!

3) Feminism - that social revolution that began with the Suffragette movement in the early 20th century and continued through to female empowerment; the right to work, the right to drive (bad idea), the right to er not be a house-wife anymore - this all culminated in the blurring of the boundary lines between manhood and womanhood. Men are now told to be 'sensitive' and to 'listen' and to 'be aware' and display 'interest' in womankind. Which is no bad thing (up to a certain point - women are rather complex creatures). So under the dawn of this feminist movement being 'Machismo' is out. This means mustachios are out too! But here is an interesting statistic: look around the world - look at the different countries - and consider how these countries treat women. You will find that in those countries where women are treated the worst - like rubbish - moustaches are still in fashion! For example Pakistan and Afghanistan treat women like property and most Pakistani men have mouches. So moustaches go hand-in-hand with female oppression, ignorance, bigotry, indolence, laziness, foolishness, intolerance, hypocrisy and er...lice - so shave them off!

However, if you are Freddy Mercury (lead singer of rock band Queen - my favourite band ever) then you are forgiven for having a moustache...because I said so so don't argue with me. Freddy can have a moustache if he wants to.

4) Moustaches are no longer cool dude. They went out of fashion when the top-hat and knee breeches went out of fashion. About a century ago. But I think there is something else at work here. In certain parts of the world, facial hair - has huge cultural significance. For a man brought up in that culture, steeped and soaked in it from birth, for such a man to shave off his moustache, is the same as coming out as gay, or saying 'I feel like a women, I'm gonna have a sex change'. It's a huge thing.

5) Would I ever grow a moustache? Fuck off! I'd rather shave off my eyebrows...

6) Hair is only made of a protein called Keratin. Your nails are made of the same protein but its molecular structure is arranged differently. The truth is that hair is just keratin. But society (me included) has given it a significance far beyond its actual real significance. Society has weaved an entire socio-political-religio-anthropological framework around the protein keratin. In Islam facial hair is a must and a sign of true belief. In Sikhism, one must never shave. In Punk music culture and Fascist ideologies - a shaved head is de-rigueur. And millions are spent annually by women and men on hair - to try and make it as beautiful and sleek as possible.

Hair is here to stay! Hair, be it facial upper lip pube, or curly-wurly coils, or oil drenched - is a statement of who we are. The world would not be the mixed and marvellous circus that it is without hair.

Yeah man! I'm converted! I've changed my mind. I'm growing a moustache!!!

BuyAWig.com

BoldMenAreSexy.com

HairyMenHaveHigherIQ's.com

Tourist spotting

2011-06-26T23:40:00.002+01:00

As I sit on the upper deck of the double-decker bus - looking out of the window - squinting my eyes in the glare of full summer - I play a game: 'spot the fucking tourist' (STFT)

The aim of the game is simple: Spot the fucking tourist!

Naturally, I play the game with myself. There is no other on the bus willing to play this game with me. Not that I have asked anybody - that would be foolish - that could get me killed...you just don't talk to strangers on London buses...they're all criminals and thieves (except me of course).

Anyway, so I have been playing this game and I must say I have become rather good at it. Oh yes. I am now an expert at spotting fucking (you don't mind if I swear do you?) tourists.

You just know, you can just tell, its so obvious when you've spotted a tourist. How?

Well firstly they will be dressed as tourists. How do tourists dress? Let me tell you: all tourists wear new clothes. Yes brand new fucking clothes with the price-tags still attached! I have always wondered about this you know (no not the price tags, I meant the new clothes). Why do tourists always wear new clothes? Why do people buy new clothes for their holidays? What's wrong with the clothes they already have? If they're OK to wear in their home country then they should be OK for London? It's silly. It's weird. I never buy new clothes for a holiday. Besides I don't go on holidays per se...I go on adventures and exploratory missions...don't ever confuse me with a tourist. I don't belong to that species.

Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, the only time you should be buying new clothes is when you need special clothing for a specific reason such as mountain wear or something for the desert or the beach. And besides, are you so vain as to think that the citizens of the country you are visiting actually care what you are wearing? You are not attending a wedding ceremony so people couldn't give a fuck if you're wearing new clothes or not! They couldn't care less! So don't buy new clothes! Your old clothes are fine. Trust me. I don't care if you wear new clothes. I'm not going to judge you differently am I?

Secondly, all tourists wear bags around their shoulders that are so clearly tourist bags full of cameras and other tourist stuff. You can tell! OK, I wear a bag around my shoulder but everybody knows I am not a tourist. I have never ever been a tourist. Even in foreign countries I am an....adventurer, an explorer - not a fucking tourist! (touched a nerve have we?)

Thirdly, all tourists walk around like zombies as if they are lost and looking for something. They look clueless, stupid and pathetic in their baseball caps and their shorts and New York Yankee T-shirts. Tell me, why the fuck would you want to wear a NY t-shirt in...London?? Huh?! What is that all about? Anyone? Even worst are those 'I Love London' t-Shirts....no self-respecting Londoner would ever, ever...ever...wear a 'I Love London' t-Shirt. Only idiotic tourists would do such a stupid thing. The whole world knows London is the best city in the world. No need to boast about it man! - and it's home to the coolest dude that ever walked the earth. Who? The Swashbuckling Vagabond of course.

Fourthly, you can spot a tourist, because they're eating in those rubbish over-priced steak houses that line the Charing Cross Road. Yes I am talking about the 'Aberdeen Steak House' - Hello?? Rip Off!! Don't go there. Don't be a mug. Don't waste your money. Go somewhere better. Like?

Like...I don't know. Somewhere not in a tourist trap area. Look, no London tourists are ever going to read this blog so no point me mentioning fine dining places in London. This is not a London Dining Guide (though if you want I might add a few restaurant reviews for a bit of fun)

Finally, the other item that points you out as a tourist (and really gets on my nerves) is when you have your camera slung around your neck as if it is a piece of gold jewelry. Don't do that fuckwit! A camera is not a gold-chain Senor tourist. A camera is a sophisticated piece of electronic equipment not a fashion accessory (this last comment applies especially to women)

So there you go. My rant is over.

I don't really hate tourists you know. I like them.

Actually I think they're rather er....cute.

...And er, lost...

....thinking they're all cool with their new clothes, and fanny-packs, and their cameras as jewelry.

Idiots!

World of Make-Believe

2011-06-26T22:31:00.001+01:00

I shall wander to my hearts content

till my heart is full with wandering

And then I shall wander inside my head

to all the places still beckoning

I've heard rumours of one such place

that is not of this dusty-old earth

somewhere between the stars they say

In the shadows, hidden by an ancient curse

Home to beings so strange your eyes cannot deceive

how they roam the milky-clouds of make-believe!

where violet seas churn frothy-foam upon the virgin shores

of this place i imagine, this world, this realm of lore

I write with my senses, in thoughts and feelings

about life's fragrances caught in infinite ceilings

I paint with my heart, in colours, only i can see

over the canvass, of my world, of make-believe

Poetry Pill - (past favourites)

2011-06-25T11:04:00.012+01:00

Introduction to poem

The idea for this poem arose when I was thinking about what would happen if one day scientists invented a 'pill' that; if you took it, instantly transformed how you saw the world. Poets are people who see the world a little differently to ordinary folk. Or perhaps, poets do actually see the world, whereas for ordinary folk the world just goes by in a blur? Anyway, so the poem below is about a guy from Hackney who loves a girl but unfortunately his skills at poetic seduction and expression are somewhat lacking (see opening lines of his poem below!) - So he takes a special pill...with a glass of water....and then 'wriggles his stomach' to let the pill 'swill inside' and dissolve....And then voila!! - gradually as the pill dissolves, his poetry reaches a truly stratospheric crescendo and climax of dizzying sensual heights! He starts seeing everything. Things he never saw or smelt before are suddenly made clear. It's as if someone has turned up the dial on his sensory settings.

(I've included a glossary of terms at the bottom of the poem to aid understanding!)

Poetry Pill

I bring tidings, from London Town
From Hackney Borough, near Hackney Downs
Born and bred, in the streets of Stokey
Articulate and well versed
In the art of poetry
So here’s a sample, of some mouth watering oratory
From the depths of a master, of delicious poetry:

(In a London accent)

Ur my pimp-cess cos ur buff
Wanna twiddle ye knobs, poke ye muff
That goofy smile, I jus’ can’t resist
Come ere’ u tart and gis a kiss

Let’s go out for an all night bender
Squeeze those nipples till their all tender
We can go McD’s and av a laff
Get rat arsed in da local gaff

There is a storm waging in my ed’
Its called love – u hear wot I said?
Without u there is nuffink in the world
Except’ Tommy Hilfiger and Burberry twirl

Dump u wiv gifts and spoil u rotten
Love ya 4 ever, kiss ya smelly bottom
There is nuffink more in the world I want
Then 2 shag ya 'ard ya lovely c**t!

I tink I need a poetry pill
Cos my poetry is making people ill
So I’ll take dis pill and see wot ‘appens
Maybe suffink good and my poetry will blossom

1…2…3 poetry pill in
1…2…3 let the water swill

Wriggle my stomach
Wriggle my legs
I wanna see this poetry pill
Take deadly affect

Wriggle my head
Wriggle my bottom
I wanna see this poetry pill
Fry my brain rotten

Ahh! - I can feel suffink gushing inside
Spewing henceforth
A remorseless diatribe:

Oh! I can see colours I have never ever seen
I can see ultraviolet in every thing!
I can see all shades of our beloved Maker
Eyeballs soak it in like blotting paper

Oh! I can hear sounds I have never ever heard
Ultrasonic squeaks and singing birds
I can hear the boom of the mighty Big Bang
Distant galaxies and Radio Koh-Nang!

Oh! I can smell things I have never ever smelt
Coffee beans and rotting squelch
I can smell the pores of the Hippopotamus
Ancient fossils and babies bottomus!
Here's a stanza to you my love
I bare all;
I take-off my gloves:

Do you see the old lady spew you a smile?
Toothless and scrawny, tongue like bile
Do you see the rickshaw-wallah, with ebony hands?
Advertising Gillette to "make you a man!"

Do you see the bewitchment of Aurora Borealis?
Shimmering lights, celestial Tigris
Do you hear the cacophony of burning Banzai?
Drunken like moths and spectral fireflies

Do you see the urchins pesky for baksheesh?
Amongst the Souks and the tourist kitsch
Do you hear the din of the humming droves?
Redemption! They seek. In this infernal abode

Do you see the beggar with stumps for legs?
Trousers held up with plasticky pegs
Do you see the monk on a devotional crawl?
Sipping Coca-Cola in a roadside stall

Do you see the child defecating in a shack?
Its school bag still attached to its back
Do you see the alleyway where prostitutes sit?
Strewn with condoms and pregnancy kits

Do you see the desert scorched with dust?
Wafting fragrances, inciting wanderlust
Do you see the camels marching in key?
Like little corkscrews bobbing in the sea

There is poetry everywhere you turn
Embers of life may whither away and burn
But the poetry of life will always remain
Stoking forever this beautiful refrain

But the poetry of my life will always be
You floatin' about, in memories
Bovverin' me forever,
like bumble beez
Innit.

-THE END-

Glossary
Tidings = news
Bred = brought up
Stokey = Stoke Newington
Articulate = well spoken. Able to use words to explain how you feel or what you are thinking
Well versed = familiar with the classics of world literature
Mouth-watering = anything that makes the saliva in your mouth flow
Oratory = the art of speaking
Buff = pretty/good looking
Twiddle = play with
Knobs = parts of your body
Muff = vagina
Goofy = sweet
Tart = prostitute
Bender = all night drinking session
Tender = soft
McD's = McDonalds
Laff = laugh
Rat arsed = drunk
Gaff = pub
Ed = head
Spoil u rotten = buy you lots of gifts
Shag = fuck
C**t = vagina
Blossom = open up like a flower
Nuffink = nothing
Suffink = something
Gushing = flowing
Spewing = about to come out
Remorseless = never ending.
Diatribe = a long speech/poem/piece of writing that never stops!
Maker = God
Blotting paper = filter paper that soaks up everything
Ultrasonic = sounds the human ear cannot hear due to their high frequency
Stanza = the separate paragraphs of a poem
Bare all = go naked
Scrawny = old and skinny
Bile = green stuff in your stomach
Rickshaw-wallah = peddle bike driver in South East Asia
Ebony = black dark wood
Aurora Borealis = the Northern Lights. Green curtains of lights effect seen in the Northern Hemisphere
Shimmering = when lights blink on and off very fast
Celestial = heavenly. In the night sky
Tigris = river in ancient Mesopotamia (Iraq)
Cacophony = an orchestra of many sounds all at once
Banzai = small Japanese trees
Spectral = ghostly
Urchins = beggars
Pesky = annoying you
Baksheesh = money/bribe
Souks = old markets in Middle Eastern countries
Kitsch = shitty tourist souvenirs!
Din = loud annoying sound
Redemption = forgiveness
Abode = place of living
Defecating = shitting
Scorched = burnt
Wafting = floating in the breeze
Inciting wanderlust = making you want to travel
Bobbing = moving up and down
Embers = what's left over after a fire
Stoking = stoking a fire. Keeping the fire going by blowing into it and giving it oxygen or fresh wood
Whither = to go skinny and thin
Refrain = these words / this poem
Bovverin' = bothering me / annoying me!
Bumble Beez = bumble bees
Innit = isn't it?

Mr Lookatme

2011-06-23T22:56:00.001+01:00

What do you see through those starburst eyes?

can you see the pixels jump out alive

a chromatic, widescreen, Technicolor life

a ready-made Dulux world

for us to find

M e m o r y C e l l

2011-06-23T22:55:00.000+01:00

The return of the crazies

2011-06-23T22:46:00.001+01:00

On clear-seeing

2011-06-19T14:44:00.006+01:00

Today, it is raining.

In fact it has been raining all week. On a day like this I see the red traffic lights reflected in a puddle of water. There is a wind blowing so the puddle surface ripples - and the red reflection ripples too. The light turns amber and then green and then my gaze turns to the sky. It is a dull, lifeless, grey, overcast and very low sky - stretched taut like opaque cling-film. So low it seems to be ceiling height - if I jump high enough I might even be able to touch it. It seems oppressive. Like a prison cell. In the distance darker clouds approach menacingly. But now and again a shaft of sunlight peeps through a gap in the clouds and the world seems more expansive and less prison-like again. The world looks and feels so different to a week ago when it was bathed in bountiful sunlight and everything was covered in a golden halo.

But I don't feel doom and gloom today. How the weather 'feels' is not an intrinsic property of the weather. It is a property of our human minds. I like it when it is like this - gloomy. Colours are muted - as if someone has turned down the saturation in Photoshop. I see a bright yellow anorak, it stands out amongst the muted colours. As the evening approaches the rain begins to lash down again. First you hear the patter 'tip-tap-tip-tap' - you can distinguish individual 'tip-taps', but then as the rain gets heavier, you here a billion tip-taps of each raindrop all at once and they have now fused into a general background noise - like the TV when it can't pick up any stations.

Vehicles sound different on rainy days. You can hear the tyres gripping the roads, the sound of soft mushy rubber on wet surface. The neon lights of the shops suddenly blink n' burst into existence. The bright red of the 'Perfect Fried Chicken' shop is matched only by the pure white of the bright fluorescent interior. From the outside window I watch the warm glowing charcoal embers of the brazier in the kebab shop, the mutton cubes sizzling away in a haze of smoke. I am tempted to go inside and warm my hands and fill my belly. The promise of warmth in my hands, the smell of barbecued lamb, the taste on my tongue - these are the sensations that drive me into the restaurant where I sit down to be greeted by a small steaming glass of turkish tea with a sugar cube next to it. I stare out of the window joyfully - shielded from the cold, dark and wet world outside - where I'd been standing only a few moments before.

Ahhh, the possibilities of perception are limitless, and clear seeing is joyful!

Creativity is also limitless. Creativity sometimes seems to be an unusual gift that only a few people are blessed with via birth or somehow manage to acquire magically during life, but this is not true. Creativity is accessible to everyone. It naturally springs from your basic nature when you are open to your basic nature. Creativity is something to be uncovered not something to be wished for.

Unfortunately, much of the time, we are cut-off from 'clear seeing'. We get caught up in cascades and torrents of internal dialogue and emotionality. Immersed in thoughts, daydreams, and projections, we fabricate our personal versions of the world and dwell within them like silkworms in cocoons. Instead of appreciating the raindrops on the window, we experience something like: "This weather is nasty. I have to get to work, and I need a new raincoat. I hope it clears up for the weekend". So immersed are we in the quotidian banality of every day existence, that we forget. Forget! Forget that we are alive...

Our culture continually tells us that boredom should be avoided and that we should always be entertained or occupied with something. No one explains why this should be so. What is it about boredom that makes it painful to so many people? Why can't we get into a car without switching on the radio? Why can't we wait for an appointment without reading a magazine? Why can't we relax at home in the evening without switching on the TV? Why do we need to check our emails so frequently? Why do we continuously text our friends? Why do we have to tell everyone what we are doing via Facebook? Why is it that on a beautiful day everybody in the train is either buried in their iPhone or newspapers - and nobody, nobody is looking out of the window?

The basic question is: why can't we relax when we have nothing to do and enjoy a little bit of space in our lives? The problem I think is that we are afraid. Afraid of our own hearts. The heart is so sensitive, so ready to vibrate and resonate with the wider world, but we keep it covered, fearing we won't be able to stand being touched. We might be overwhelmed. We can't afford to open up, because who knows what we might feel. Are we afraid to feel bad and painful things? But in trying to protect our hearts by wrapping it in thick padding we prevent ourselves from engaging with the rich vitality and texture and beauty of the world at large!

You don't need to shield yourself. It is good to expose your heart. By exposing your heart, you begin to make friends with yourself. You become a friend to yourself on a deeper level. You get to know yourself. You get to know 'who' you are and who you are 'not'. Only then can you live a life that is not a lie. Their is no such thing as a 'better' or bigger life. There is only such a thing as the 'right life for you'.

There are many things you can do to 'find yourself'. You don't have to go to Tibet or Nepal or meet the Dalai Lama! You don't have to go very far at all. It's all about letting go of the things that insulate you from your environment. For example: next time you go to your High Street to buy some milk, bread and eggs, ask yourself 'what am I doing during this journey that insulates me from the environment?' Do you wear headphones on the way to the High Street? Well take them off! Are you on the mobile phone? Switch it off! Are you thinking about something to do with work, family or friends? Don't! Are you day-dreaming? Don't! The contemplative mind is free of thinking. It is a mind that is open and fresh and receptive to whatever arises. At first when you do this, when you spend time alone, without contact with the things that stimulate your mind, you might feel uncomfortable, lonely, or bored. That is because many of us are not used to being alone. We are addicted to entertainment and stimulation. This is a great way to unplug yourself! And make friends with yourself.

Solitude is the home of the contemplative mind and the space where creativity flourishes.

Life, The Universe & Everything

2011-06-15T22:27:00.006+01:00

The world is full of people 'looking'

looking for answers

answers to their questions.

And throughout history...

for thousands of years

man has been looking for answers.

But what has he found?

What is the harvest of his fields?

Let's jump to the present,

lets skip to 2011

and let's look at the world

as it is today

and see the harvest of his fields,

the harvest of 50,000 years of thinking!

Has man figured it all out?

Or is it all still a mystery?

Looking at the world today

as I walk the streets of Stoke Newington
In the great city of London

I see that man has never been more fortunate (lucky).

Never have his basic needs

been so well met.

I will give one example: Food

and from this we will learn much.

In the past, if you felt hungry,

you went out into the forest or jungle or desert or savanna

to find food.

If you didn't find any

then you didn't eat

and you went to sleep

on an empty stomach.

Oh yes! Life was hard!

you would starve and go hungry.

That was the naked rule of life.

Also, the foods you ate were of a limited variety - what you could grow or find.

Flour or rice. Beans and corn. Sorghum and Millet

the occasional animal that you caught:

perhaps a rat, a snake, or any wild animal you can think of,

And liquid water.

Fruits and Vegetables came later. Much later.

So for most of his history man has enjoyed

only a limited variety of flavours...

...and today?

Today as a modern man,

I walk into my Local Tescos
and I am attacked by a million taste sensations!

and what do I see?

Apart from the bright lights (which are like protection from the dark)

I see Tuna, freshly caught only yesterday, in the Indian Ocean

off the Maldives!

I see Mangoes

from the tropics

flown overnight on an aeroplane

I see Pineapples & Kiwi Fruits

and bright juicy strawberries
the colour of blood.

I see fat donuts hemorrhaging (leaking)

jam and pumped up

with cream filling. Fresh apple and orange juices.

Chicken. Lamb. Pork. Beef. Fish and so on...

...all marinated in spices, for extra flavour and oomph!

And when we feel hungry,

all we have to do

is walk into our local supermarket

and choose

what we want to eat.

It's so easy!

We don't have to go out and hunt it, or find it.

So used to have we become

to this way of life

that we don't think about it.

We accept it as normal.

Yet how wrong we are!

This is not normal! Go away!

This life we live today,

has only been like this for a few years - in a history of millions of years...

Life has never been easier - has it?

We live longer and more healthier lives

then ever before.

We know more, we understand more

we can all read and write (some better then others!)

We have access to whole libraries of books,

and Wikipedia!!

Yet,

Oh and what a BIG yet!

Despite the above,

we are still 'looking' for answers,

answers to our questions

and no nearer the truth

of our existence...

it's all still a mystery to most of us.

What is going on here?

Is this some sort of a sick joke?

The problems of man

are compounded (made worse)

By the fact that he has a habit

of asking the wrong bloody questions!

Some of the questions we ask are:

what is the meaning of life?

What is it for?

What is it about?

Why am I here?

The truth is:

that all the above underlined parts
have turned the questions into
bad questions.

They are bad questions because they are

questions with no answers.

Ask a butterfly: "why are your wings so beautiful?" - how will it reply?

It will say: "I dunno! Because they are!"

The questions we should be asking are:

1) What is life? What am I? How did I get here?

2) What do I want?

3) Do I want to be happy and content? If so, what do I need to be happy? Is it what people and society say I need? Or does my heart say something else?

4) What really matters?

5) What is beyond my control and therefore not worth worrying about?

6) Does anything, in the end of the day, really matter from the vantage point of the Universe?

7) How do I find some genuine love in this world?

8) What shall I have for dinner tonight!

Every person is unique

with unique needs

That is why there is no single religion

to fit all.

For me there is no meaning

there is no purpose

Life is an accident

but once it started

in that warm chemical pond

4.8 billion years ago

there was no stopping it!

and here I am
and here you are

the result!

For me,

I am just happy to have been given

a chance to live,

to open my eyes for a few brief years

upon this world and its people

before my eyes close forever.

And once closed,

those eyes of mine

will never open again,

and the things they saw and...

the things they felt,

will be forgotten, forever.

But for now,

at this very moment,

as I type these words,

my eyes are indeed open,

...and that is all that matters!

People always ask me...

2011-06-08T00:19:00.002+01:00

People always ask me, how to travel
I say to them:
Before you set off, first ask yourselves:
why is it - you wish to travel?

For if you come back - after your travels
to the same man, as before you left,
then the people you met,
and the things you saw,
Why it was all a lie! On real travels you did not set...

People always ask me, how to find a wife
I say to them:
Go to a wedding, and find the bride
Stand next to her best friend; and to whom say:
Will you be mine tonight? Babe?

If she slaps you hard, with impunity
Do not worry friend, they'll come another opportunity
But if she looks at you, with sticky-butter eyes
She is yours man, yours all for tonight!

People always ask me, how to be cool
I say to them:
Stop asking people - how to be cool
If you are, you will know it,
If you're not, relax dude! Smoke a joint - Don't worry!

People always ask me, the meaning of life
I say to them:
Take a candle, into the deepest night
If you see more, then the candle illuminates:
Then you already know, the secret of life

People always ask me, how to be happy
I say to them:
Laugh a lot, even if the jokes - are really really crappy

People always ask me, what I'm saying?
I say to them:
Fuck knows! - I'm just kinda prayin'

Edinburgh

2011-06-07T23:10:00.003+01:00

Went to Edinburgh

opened my eyes

Light came flooding thru

a hole in the sky

The Art of Foto-Grafie

2011-06-07T10:28:00.000+01:00

What makes an image pleasing to the eye? Do all great photographs have a secret that can be learnt? To what extent is image making (be it fine art, furniture design, architectural spaces, fashion) similar? Is the 'Golden Mean'; the secret ratio discovered by Democritus and further propounded by Pythagoras, at the heart of symmetry in nature? What is the connection between the spirals of the double helix of DNA, the vein pattern of leaves and the perfect photograph?

What can photographs tell us about the human condition?

What is the connection between the cave painting of 'Lascaux' in France and the flowering of human self-awareness.

All will be revealed...Stay tuned...

Why I write

2011-06-07T09:53:00.001+01:00

SOME BEINGS are made for living and some beings are made for feeling. I was made to feel. Those who feel like me don’t live. So lost are we in our feelings, that it seems to me, that we inhabit an altogether different world. Not the living world but a world just as real - though realism is a relative concept I think. The world we inhabit, and by we I am of course referring to the ‘feelers’, is it seems, more sensual and savoury than the one existing out there. The world of feelings is fashioned from within and there it remains - pure. The outside world can't touch it and because of this it can assume weird and wonderful forms - like smoke. It is this world, deep down, that I try and illuminate through writing. It is a poor medium I admit but I have no other tools at my disposal. I am a lousy painter, nor can I draw or sing or direct. This is all I have: a set of twenty six letters and a lousy grammar to put some order to the orchestra. The whole world can be contained in language, in part because words, once set free, contain all possibilities for expression and thought.

Let me give you an idea of what it is like to live in this world of feeling. Have you ever travelled alone on a train? If you have than you must have looked out of the window – am I right? And when you looked out of the window were you in another world than the one you were observing through the glass? I am of course referring to thoughts, or to be more precise, being lost in thoughts. This is what it is like for me. I am always looking out of the window – (my eyes) – at a world I don’t notice at all as it flashes by - because I am elsewhere. ‘I am elsewhere’ lets consider this statement for a moment. To someone sitting opposite observing me I am definitely not elsewhere but right in front of them. But that is their view and I beg to differ. I am most certainly not there, despite my physical presence, which I admit serves to keep me tethered there, so to speak; but in actuality, in the reality that I trust and know; that is the reality of my thoughts and feelings, I am elsewhere. It is difficult for me to describe this place where I spend a lot of my time. Perhaps my language is ill-equipped for the task in hand and my fingers too clumsy to lift the pieces of my world for you to see. Perhaps I should give up writing for good? Put a full stop to it all. For if my fingers are too clumsy what is the point? No, I can't give up. What else is there for me to do?

The Return of the Crazies...

2011-06-04T17:16:00.003+01:00

Coming soon...Levant - The Images

2011-06-03T16:27:00.002+01:00

London Night Life (series 1)

2011-05-31T15:30:00.002+01:00

Clare's Birthday Lunch Pix

2011-05-14T18:34:00.000+01:00

Coming soon...Adventures in Firenze!

2011-04-24T10:24:00.005+01:00

The Amazon Kindle - Some more thoughts...

2011-04-21T20:24:00.002+01:00

As you can tell I am rather infatuated with this device! Yes, the Ipad v Kindle debate rages on the Internet forums. Yes the ipad is more technologically savvy. Yes the ipad can do much much more. But if it's an ebook reader you are after (and not a computer) - then the Kindle is the best out there. Oh yeah, for pure reading pleasure, for pure ease from eye-strain. For pure battery life. It is the best. Some people argue that it's user-interface is clunky. That it is not as 'techy' or 'cool' or 'savvy' as the ipad or even the SonyReader...but I think the user interface actually encourages a more thoughtful approach to your reading. It actually encourages you to SLOW DOWN. Nothing is instant. Nothing is of short pleasures. It encourages (how can I put it) you to get to know it. You build a relationship with it (not sexual) and it gets to know you.

You might think that I am being a bit of a freak. Maybe I am. Do I care? No. I have a cool burgundy red cover for it (£50.99 - expensive? Yes!) (with built in night-light - perfect for middle of the night readings of Bram Stokers Dracooooola), and as I stroll with it, on a sunny Saturday morning - it between my thumb and forefinger, towards my regular cafe haunt, I feel like I have real power in my finger tips. Knowledge is power. A veritable library of Alexandria. Oh! How Ptolemy would have swooned. Oh! How Montaigne would have marvelled at it. Oh! How Douglas Adam's would have said: "told you so". It really is that wonderful you know. 375 million years ago in the Devonian Epoch, our fishy ancestors crawled out of the shallow waters and stuck their heads out of the waters - and peered through the mist to look at the stars! - And now, here we are, 375 million years later - Homo Sapiens, and Me - A Wasim Shafi...goggle-eyed, and madly in love, with an ebook reader...

The universe is strange.

To live is amazing.

To be able to read is a miracle

And the Kindle...my new best friend!

Hahaha.

Misanthrope&Proud.com

The Amazon Kindle (Generation 3) - Some Thoughts of Mine

2011-04-21T14:43:00.000+01:00

My Kindle experience has been one of liberation.

Liberation from the irksome knowledge that I have hundreds of books that I still need to read - but due to the fact that I can't be bothered to dig them out, or don't know where they are, I can't get myself to read them. When one has so many book choices - which one does one read? The sheer 'not being able to decide' factor makes me innactive and stuns me into a psychological zone of bamboozled no action...the sheer weight of the task before me is so awesome in size and scope...so the books just sit there, gathering dust, waiting...waiting for the day when I will have the courage to brave the dust and the cobwebs, brave the 'falling over' of the piles of books...and pick one out - and read it...ignoring all the others looking at me imploringly - my babies.

...and then along comes the AmazonKindle ebook reader...my total number of books on the kindle now number over a thousand...and I feel much better.

Here is a little device that fits nicely in the palm of my hand, lithe, thin, light...and yet, underneath the bonnet there lyeth a formidable technological miracle. I can now read all those books and when I get bored with one, and feel like another that is less demanding, I can instantly bring up another. I have put them in folders marked 'currently reading', 'to read next', 'to read after next' and 'science' and 'others' (not very imaginative I know - but it does the trick). I can notarise them (write notes on the pages like I normally do) and the Kindle has a built in dictionary for those oh so difficult words.

I love it. It encourages me to read more - and that is the only thing I have to say about it!

The perfect camera - a personal view

2011-04-04T17:44:00.001+01:00

The perfect camera is the camera that makes you want to go out and take pictures.

It has little or less to do with technical aspects and more to do with feelings

What use is a technically superior camera if it doesn't make you want to go out and take pictures?

So, the perfect camera for you, is the one that; when you hold it in your hand - you want to run out and take pictures.

If a camera can do that, if it can move your legs no matter sun or rain, if it can make you put on your coat in the dead of winter, or the dead of night - then no amount of pixel peeping or observing 100% magnifications will make a difference.

...remember, the perfect camera is swung about the heart, not the neck.

Ah! It's Spring

2011-03-22T23:08:00.002Z

Today is the first day of spring in the Northern Hemisphere. The Earth's position relative to the sun says it's officially time for the birds to start chirping.

The first day of spring arrives on varying dates (from March 19-21) in different years for two reasons: Our year is not exactly an even number of days; and Earth's slightly noncircular orbit, plus the gravitational tug of the other planets, constantly changes our planet's orientation to the sun from year to year.

This year, spring starts Sunday, March 20, at 7:21 p.m. EDT (23:21 UTC). That's when the so-called vernal equinox occurs. Equinoxes (which mark the onset of spring and autumn) and solstices (which mark when summer and winter begin) are points in time and space that mark a transition in our planet's annual trip around the sun.

Spring is here. Spring is here.
Listen to the birds sing. Hear! Hear!
Warm beer! Warm beer!
In a pub - near here, near here...

God and Disaster

2011-03-19T10:40:00.000Z

One thinks with sorrow of the hundreds of thousands whose lives have been horrendously lost or affected by the great Japanese earthquake and tsunami, which will put a black mark against this year 2011 in the annals of history. The earthquake is a Tectonic phenomenon - caused when the earth's Tectonic Plates grind against each other where the plates meet. As they grind they sometimes get stuck, but the pressure continues to increase nonetheless and eventually they give - releasing vast amounts of energy, and that is when you get an earthquake. Earthquakes don't just happen anywhere - they happen at specific places where the plates meet - a 'ring of fire' that circles the Pacific and is also home to volcanoes. The whole affair reminds us of the vast forces of nature that are normal for the planet itself but inimical to human life, especially when lived dangerously close to the jigsaw cracks of the earth’s surface.

I read somewhere that there were to be special prayers in the local church for the people of Japan. This well-intentioned and fundamentally kindly proceeding nevertheless shows how absurd, in the literal sense of this term, are religious belief and practice. When I saw the television footage of people going to church in Christchurch after the tragic quake there, the following thoughts pressed.

It would be very unkind to think that the churchgoers were going to give thanks that they personally escaped; one would not wish to impute selfishness and personal relief in the midst of a disaster in which many people arbitrarily and suddenly lost their lives through ‘an act of God’. If they were going to pray for their god to look after the souls of those who had died, why would they think he would do so since he had just caused, or allowed, their bodies to be suddenly and violently crushed or drowned?

Indeed, were they praising and supplicating a deity who designed a world that causes such arbitrary and sudden mass killings? An omniscient being would know all the implications of what it does, so it would know it was arranging matters with these awful outcomes. Were they praising the planner of their sufferings for their sufferings, and also begging his help to escape what he had planned?

Perhaps they think that their god was not responsible for the earthquake. If they believe that their god designed a world in which such things happen but left the world alone thereafter and does not intervene when it turns lethal on his creatures, then they implicitly question his moral character. If he is not powerful enough to do something about the world’s periodic murderous indifference to human beings, then in what sense is he a god? Instead he seems to be a big helpless ghost, useless to pray to and unworthy of praise.

For if he is not competent to stop an earthquake or save its victims, he is definitely not competent to create a world. And if he is powerful enough to do both, but created a dangerous world that inflicts violent and agonizing sufferings arbitrarily on sentient creatures, then he is vile. Utterly vile and evil and a disgrace! Yes he is a disgrace - I challenge him to answer me! Either way, what are people thinking who believe in such a being, and who go to church and mosques to praise and worship it? How, in the face of events which human kindness and concern registers as tragic and in need of help – help which human beings proceed to give to their fellows: no angels appear from the sky to do it – can they believe such an incoherent fiction as the idea of a deity? This is a perennial puzzle.

It's also an act of utter stupidity and ignorance. There is no god. There never was a god. We were not created by some omnipotent - omniscient - omnipressent deity. We and the world are the product of random forces. Forces nonrandom enough to evolve life - but random enough to cause disaster. But the Tsunami and the earthquake were not random events were they? We know what caused them. The mindless, indifferent and fundamentally 'unconcerned-with-human affairs' forces of nature.

Grow up Mankind. I beseech you. Wake up from your childhood and face the cold hard indifferent universe like a man. Stop cuddling that warm blanket you use as a sop. Stand tall Mankind. You are alone in a universe that cares not for your fate. There is no eternal justice. No meaning. Only purposelessness and the glowing twinkle of the stars - in a vastness so black - it numbs the imagination - cowering you under the sheet of your blanket - where you hide. But don't hide. Stand tall. Stick two fingers up to the universe. Say "Fuck You" to the universe. Say "Fuck You" to disaster. Say "Fuck You" to suffering. I am alive - and it makes me cry - and I will continue to question, and seek...the answers. I will not be put down by religious bigotry or theological wisequakery. I will not. I am alive. And to be alive is to question and explore and always to live in utter awe...

Some images from Friday night...Location: French restaurant called 'La Ratatouille' off Baker Street

2011-03-13T20:28:00.003Z

You may need to adjust your computers resolution settings to see these properly as the images are quite large and, as I use an apple Macbook 17inch - it's ok for me, but may not be for you!

All images taken with a Canon S95 point and shoot camera. All images taken at ISO 3200 and f2 aperture (more or less). No flash. The restaurant was dark and yet I managed to use no flash and still get decent images. How? The ISO was turned right up to 3200. Result? Original colour images straight from camera display considerable noise. Images have required a bit of processing in Photoshop and I've utilised the natural grain inherent in them to give me a more 'filmy' look. Also, I've converted most of the images to black and white as the graininess then works to my advantage.

The Canon S95 is probably one of the best 'pocketable' cameras on the market right now. By pocketable I mean it fits into your trouser pocket no sweat. But you must know its limitations and learn how to work around them or within them.

Sunday lunch...

2011-03-06T16:44:00.002Z

vvvvv

Panasonic Lumix GH2 + Voigtlander 25mm 0.95

2011-03-06T12:29:00.003Z

The Panasonic GH2 Micro Four-Thirds camera - recently released by Panasonic (and notoriously difficult to get hold of) is perhaps the most technologically advanced camera on the market today. It possesses; within its sleek black chassis, enough electronic wizardry to put the Apollo moon missions to shame. The GH2 is sitting next to me as I write this - and I turn my head now and again to look at it affectionately like one does with a good pet. It has an 18 mega pixel sensor, a high resolution touch-swivel screen, electronic viewfinder (not optical), LiveView (a feature that allows you to view the exposure/white balance/noise/iso/depth-of-field on screen before you've even taken the picture). I'm not going to go into the technical aspects - this is not a full review of the Panasonic GH2 - for that you can visit: www.dpreview.com OR Luminous-landscape.com

I love this camera because it's a case-in-point of possessing both beauty and brains in equal measure. It's small enough to fit inside my bag (though not small enough to fit inside my trouser pocket). Paired with the Voigtlander 25mm 0.95 lens, this baby becomes the ultimate low-light travel camera. With a maximum aperture of 0.95 you can take hand-held shots in almost total darkness (without flash) and get excellent results to boot. Perfect for those dodgy dark and dingy alleyways I love frequenting in stinking cesspool places. The other major feature is its ability to take full HD Movies with staggering professional results (just check out 'Youtube' if you don't believe me). I will be shooting some video in the near future - so watch this space.

I'd be more then happy to take this baby with me on my travels and leave the Canon 5D with its heavy clique of lenses at home. The Panasonic GH2 weighs approximately 1/4 the Canon gear, and there is little if any compromise in image quality or functionality. It's shutter and focus speeds are super responsive - it won't miss a shot - you will still get the decisive moment. The significant gains in weight and size really do add up when you're back-packing up steep mountain tops and high passes. On my previous travels I took along my Canon 5D, 2 lenses and a laptop - and it can be back-breaking!

More pictures to follow...

Sunday...in pictures - (taken with the Panasonic GH2 + Voigtlander Nokton 25mm 0.95 lens)

2011-03-06T11:36:00.003Z

yyyyyy

Today...in pictures - (taken with Panasonic GH2 + 25mm 0.95 Voigtlander)

2011-03-05T21:48:00.010Z

rrrrr

Why it must be...Saturday morning!

2011-03-05T10:57:00.009Z

yyyy
I am currently sitting in a café – with a cup of coffee, a glass of sparkling water (with zesty lemon and ice) and an almond croissant - and I am trying to read. And then suddenly something struck me - and I was possessed with an urge to put my book down and start writing! (Just for your information I was reading 'To a Mountain in Tibet' by Colin Thubron - sort of prep for my forthcoming trip). And here you see before your eyes the fruits of my writing labour. It happens often you know - this urge to write. Usually on Saturday mornings - in a dainty chic little Cafe somewhere - whilst strong dark coffee is coursing through my veins! I think it must be the coffee aroma that does it. The wafting coffee molecules must surely be reacting with my nerve fibres - and surely the bubbles in my fizzy water are creating an effervescence all their own in my mind...

Anyway, where was I? Oh yes. This thought. This so called 'eureka' moment. The thought was the realisation of the amount of background noise there is - in modern life. Let's take a simple example by way of illustration: this cafe. I will now proceed to describe to you the cacophony of sounds I can hear in the ‘Costa Coffee’ in Angel, Islington - LondonTown (the heart of modern day civilization!)

Well: I can hear the regular whoosh of the cappuccino machine, the hiss of pressured steam being released and the constant banging of metal coffee holders as the used coffee is emptied. I can hear the clink of china cups. I can hear the scraping of chairs and the sound of spoons clinking the insides of cups as they are stirred. I can hear the grinding of the gears inside the coffee machine as the beans are ground to perfect consistency - to release that coffee flavour. I can hear the pleasurable murmurs as the fresh coffee is placed next to lips - giving an instant and much needed early morning coffee hit. I can hear the loud guttural exchanges of the Turkish group to my right – 3 men and a woman. One of the men seems to be shouting to be heard. I can hear the two young pretty women friends to my left – talking in almost hushed silence (probably talking about there idiot and useless boyfriends!). I can hear the group of three sitting opposite – I think they may be postgraduate PhD students as one of them is talking about experiments. There is the ring of laughter that rings out now and again, the sneeze, the cough – and above all this in the background is the music that’s playing on the speakers – an Afro-Caribbean woman screaming away to some funky beatnik tune.

And here's a pet hate of mine: people that talk too loud! Like the Turkish group to my right – perhaps some languages are more ‘shouty’ then others? Chinese for instance with its barking cadences. Or perhaps it’s a cultural thing? You might find this funny but whenever I’m sitting in a café – I always feel a morbid dread when a group of people come and sit next to me. Not because I'm a misanthrope mind you. I do like people. But I'm just a little more sensitive to their annoying habits - like talking too loud! Perhaps its because their loud(ings) interfere with the wonderful fine thoughts and ideas that constantly bloom inside that head of mine?!! Anyway, as I was saying - I always make a snap judgment (before they have even seated themselves) as to the type of cafe/restaurant/bus/tube neighbour they will be. If the journey is short it doesn't matter as much. But if you're planning on spending a couple of hours thinking and writing in a cafe, then it matters very much indeed. The type of person that sits next to you could ruin your day!

Before they have even seated themselves I find myself wondering whether they'll be pleasant talking or will they shout out exchanges that’ll ring in my ears and disturb my repose? Let me tell you: I knew even before the Turkish group had sat – what kind of neighbours they’d be. Oh yes. They'd be shouty! As humans we cannot help judging character from facial features, dress and body language. It's a survival mechanism. During our evolution in the African savannah we had to develop quick means of determining character from a distance. If you got too close to a stranger before forming accurate judgement - he might kill you or even eat you. So we all do it - make snap judgements that is. It's part of our human heritage.

One of the men in the Turkish group had the long face of a donkey – scrawny cheeks and small forehead. He had mousy unintelligent eyes that were placed too close together. I knew this man before he even opened his mouth. Ohh, How predictable man can be! I long to meet someone that totally goes against the grain of my expectations. The simple truth is that most people are utterly predictable. Rarely do they think about what they say and how much they say. It’s almost as if they think that ‘more is better’. That in order to be heard and seen and acknowledged, they must spurt forth an endless diatribe, a gushing stream nay a torrent of words. As if any silences will engulf them. People natter too much. The human voice-box should be used sparingly: less is more!

Attention is gotten most effectively when when people say less not more. The same applies to body language. Have you never noticed how James Bond moves? All leading-actor alpha males that you see in movies have a specially choreographed body language. They move s l o w l y - as if they are moving through treacle. They appear unhurried. 90% of our communication is non-verbal. You can attract a woman - create sexual tension - simply from voice tone and body language alone. What you actually say is mostly irrelevant. It's how you say it. Women unconsciously react to these traits. They don't feel attraction towards flatterers and wussies! They can't help it! Attraction is a switch they can't control. Anyway (I was going off-topic there!), most people fidget, they scratch their skin, they move hurriedly – they look as if they are nervous and not in control and they constantly seek attention and affirmation. This is not attractive! Get a grip of yourself mankind!

Learn to live with the attention you currently get

Never compete for attention

Never seek to please all the time

Have a life and interests

Never think highly of others opinion of you (be it good or bad) cos they're heads are mainly empty - so what do the opinions that originate from such a head matter?

Always be courteous and civil in your dealings with people

Never moan and complain openly

See people for what they are: pitiful creatures, living in a world they don't understand, searching for something they know not what

Always show loving compassion. Compassion that is free from self-interest. Nurture a loving kindness for people that comes from feeling pity for all mankind...that is where 'goodness' really comes from. From feelings of pity.

Why do we cry? We cry because we feel pity for OURSELVES (Just think about it!). We cry for OURSELVES...we cry for OUR wretchedness, not that of others

People who walk and move slowly, who talk less, but when they do speak, speak slowly, people with non-monotone voices – these people appear in control and are attractive. All their movements are purposeful – every movement is relevant – there is no extraneous irrelevant movement. Your body language mirrors your state of mind (what you are thinking and feeling). And if it isn't you can fool people by acting as if you are in control - hence, the Peacocks Tail. Most people are insecure. We are insecure about a whole host of things such as: how we look, how we are dressed, what people think about us, whether the opposite sex finds us attractive, whether we are good at our jobs, whether we are smart or dumb. We are afraid of people’s opinion of us – our self esteem is derived from what others think, our reputation, our social status, our honour, our pride. Just ask Schopenhauer! All these things matter to us because ultimately we are human animals and the main thing that is always on our mind is?

Yes... sex!

Sex makes the world go round. It also makes the bedroom rumble and the earth shake. How it could it not be otherwise? Sex is why and how we are here. If our ancestors shied away from sex, if they never gave it consideration – then we; their future descendants, would not be here.

Most people bore me. Oh, how they bore me! How they constantly talk about themselves as if I care! Occasionally I might attempt to stray the conversation into objective territory but it's all useless! Futile! So much of what I say just makes a 'whooooshing' sound above their heads. There are conversations I would love to have that touch the very edges of the known universe and existence – yet these philistines care about petty things. The ceiling of their minds is so low, that when I sit with them in a conversation, I must stoop low and mind my head – lest I bang it on their ceiling and crush my skull! Oh, how I long for company and intelligent conversation where I can fly the flag high and far, as free as a bird - but instead, it seems so limited. I am a prisoner in this world surrounded by common criminals! We have only one life – this life – and what a waste it seems to me to spend it on trifles! There is so much to talk about and ponder – yet men and women prefer instead to talk about stupid pointless things such as relationships, the weather, what they watched on TV last night, what they ate. In short they love to talk about themselves all the time!

Existence is such a rich experience, so ripe and juicy and succulent and bursting with things of interest, yet many times when I sit before my computer – about to write, I don’t know where to start! So I must compromise and select a particular topic and see where it leads….and as is often the case, it leads me on a journey into the inner realm of the human condition. Many times dark and sometimes light.

Life is such an amazing and improbable thing you know! Do you not agree? – It never fails to wow me. I am wowed by its sheer audacity and spunkiness and exuberance. How life takes to the air and swims on thermals, how it dives to the depths, how it eeks out an existence on the fringes – as a parasite for example, how it takes for the moon or the stars, how it seeks its own destruction – how the human mind has sought to understand the world it finds itself in. What is the world? Why is it here? What is this all for? Who made it? How do I live? How can I be happy?

How different are we to our ancestors that lived say 100,000 years ago? Not much. They were anatomically the same as we are today. If you took them and placed them in today's world – so that their children went to school with our children. Why, they’d be indistinguishable from any of us! We're all the same.

Are some people ‘better’ then other. Does education make you better? Does it make you view the world in a more accurate and better light? Look where education got Donald Rumsfeld, Bush, Cheney et al in the lie that was the Iraqi invasion. Look where it got us in the trenches of the first world war and the concentration camps of the second. How much does it matter – in the end? And what is a 'true' accurate view anyway? Is the world we see not a simulation of the human brain anyway? A virtual reality make-believe world of fancy? A world fashioned from the excitations and electrical action potentials of zillions of neurons?

My oh my - this coffee has certainly been laced with something! It is exciting my neurons most definitely.

Happy exuberant weekend to you all my dear readers!

And now for something cool...

2011-03-04T20:34:00.004Z

yyyyy

I want a girl, girl that won't talk back
And a job, job that gives me slack
And a car, car that won't break down
In the heat of Los Angeles
Want to go, go without a map
Far away, away, I won't get trapped
By the sound, a town, the sun beats down
In the heat of Los Angeles

One more holiday
I will not celebrate
I'm almost desperate
Cause I'm down, I'm down, I'm so beat down

This city's killing me
I want, I want, I want everything
This city's killing me
In the heat of Los Angeles

I want a love, love that won't hit back
Want sex, sex without a catch
Want a face, to trust, to feel, to lust
In the heat of Los Angeles
Want to FUCK, FUCK, FUCK this up
Gonna feel, feel, feel you up
Had enough, enough, enough's enough
In the heat of Los Angeles

This city's killing me
I want, I want, I want everything
This city's killing me
In the heat of Los Angeles
What has become of me?
I want, I want, I want everything
This city's killing me
(I want everything)

Come on, come on
It's alive and breathing
Come on, come on
Come alive today
Come on, come on
It's a heartless beating
The sun is burning down Los Angeles
Los Angeles
Los Angeles...

Fashion, dress sense & my cool new navy-blue blazer

2011-02-20T17:57:00.004Z

Here's a subject I very rarely write about: shopping. Or, to be more precise (and more high-brow), clothes and fashion! I've always kept this blog within a limited range of subject matters: science, philosophy, movies, books, photography, poetry etc. I've now decided that I'm going to increase the oeuvre - enhance the repertoire - of this blog. Don't get me wrong. This is not something I am doing because I want this blog to be more interesting. It already is interesting! - Oh no, fashion and clothes are subjects I have strong opinions about. It's a subject close to my heart. Yes, my heart is rather shallow so sue me! I consciously think about what I wear and what others are wearing all the time. I do enjoy wearing clothes. But I've just never written about it. Clothes make the man, and every contemporary 21st century gentlemen should know how to dress well. All too often I see men just not cutting it in the sartorial department! The truth is that times have changed. Not a long time ago men always looked dapper - they went out wearing suits and hats - in fact, if you didn't wear a suit and hat you were deemed not respectable. Nowadays jeans and t-shirt are pretty much de-rigueur. A pity really. Look - I'm no fashion snob - and yes there is more to life then what you wear - but I think clothes and the way people wear them is an interesting topic ripe for discussion. It's interesting for several reasons. Clothes tell people who you are. What you believe in. How educated you are - your social status. Clothes can give an indicator of the kind of lover you might be in bed: a roaring lion or a squeaky mouse.

I think about what I wear. What matters to me are things like colour combinations, the fitting, the style, layering. Of the four - the fitting is the most important. Clothes should fit as if they were made especially for you. As if (and this metaphor is stretching it a little), as if - you crawled out of your mothers womb wearing the clothes on your back...

Anyway, today I popped into Topman in London's (crazily madly and tortuously busy) Oxford Street - with the intention of doing a bit of lazy browsing (a vicarious pleasure of mine) and (as is often the case) I ended up buying something. A navy blue blazer. £100. I tried it out on the shop floor - on top of my dark jeans, polo top with upturned collars, and black trainers - and instantly fell in love with it. It felt as if it was made just for me! The navy blue colour and the fitting was what did it. The blazer was very snug under the arms and projected a slim silhouette. It had smallish lapels and tapered at the waist. I figured it would go well with a crisp white shirt or even a pink one. I'd be able to yank it up a few notches in the style stakes by donning a t-shirt underneath - for that little bit of trampishness!

Alright - I tell you what - I'll take a picture of myself wearing it - and post it on the blog. What do you say? Would you like to see me wearing it? I bet you would.

The arms need to be shortened a little though. When holding your arms out straight the blazers sleeves should be short enough to allow some of the shirt cuff to peep through. It's not bespoke; well no suit off the rack will fit perfectly unless you're Mr Average. I usually shop at All Saints - more expensive and mainly subdued colours (blues, blacks and greys). I wouldn't wear a Topman suit at a job interview though. The quality isn't as great as say TM Lewin, Reiss, Charles Thwytt etc. And also, with Topman suits being a more 'young' and 'stylish' - you might not be taken seriously by interviewers! Image is important you know - and people who tend to focus too much on fashion and not work-dashion (is that even a word!) are not very good (except me - I'm that rare exception - the smart dandy!). The interesting thing about Topman is that their main market is YOUNG PEOPLE. Let me explain. If a young person were to go and buy a smart office shirt from say TM Lewin - they'd find that its not really designed for them. The shirt has too much excess cloth hanging from the arms and the belly region. It's not 'fitted'. On a young person they'd be too much excess cloth. The reason being that TM Lewin shirts are really designed for middle aged men who have 'bulk' around their shoulders and tummies! A fatty bulk that accumulates with age. I have no bulk whatsoever about me (and nor do I intend to have any in the future), and so I struggle to find a TM Lewin shirt that fits properly. Their new John Francomb 'fully fitted' range is actually not bad - but for perfectly fitting (but not necessarily the best quality) Topman is Topdog!

See I told you I had a lot to say about clothes...

I could literally go on like this you know. I could talk about shoes and how I love brogues till my tongue wilted. I could talk about jeans and who I think makes the best one's till your ears popped. What are the quintessentials of good dress sense? I could talk about the philosophy and biology of clothing till your legs fell off. Why do women always look at men's shoes? Why are shoes important to women when it comes to selecting a mate? Why do politicians wear what they do? What's the secret of dressing so you look skinnier? Answer: dark colours that are of similar hue and vertical lines. Is dress sense an innate quality that you either have or have not? How much of good dress sense can be learnt? Are Italians really the sharpest dressers and if so why? Are Indians really the worst? Answer: yes! And so forth ad infinitum...

Maybe it's time for me to shut up now.

Yes, it is time for me to shut up. Besides, its almost six o'clock and I need to pop into the Turkish tailor on Stoke Newington High Street and pick up my navy blue blazer - the sleeve needed shortening remember! - £12 quid he's charging me for sleeve shortening. Bloody rip off!

the joy of looking out of windows

2011-02-19T16:45:00.002Z

I've always enjoyed looking out of windows. There are cafe windows where one can peer onto the pavement (pond) life outside: a veritable river of people flowing with eddies and whirlpools. I also enjoy looking out of train windows onto the backyards of domesticity - the washing on the line, the garden hose, the vegetable garden, the endless rows of neatly trimmed hedgerows: domestic bliss or middle class staidness and banality? There is a 'Wagamama' restaurant where I often go on weekends for a spot of lunch. It has a special long table that faces the long outside window - its great for people who are eating on their own. It's just you, your plate of food, and a window through which you can view the people walking pass. I can look out onto the shoppers and they in return can watch me slurp my soup! I've noticed there are 3 basic types of people that walk pass: 1) the one's that don't look at you at all as you are eating - in fact they look completely the other way (probably because they're too embarrassed) - 2) the one's that will stare at your soup through the window and even stick there nose right up to it to get a better look! (no embarrassment at all for these!) and 3) the sort that will look at you from the corner of their eye, but as soon as you look at them, they'll avert their gaze and look away (sneaky fellows these with an ounce of dignity!).

There! I've taxonomically grouped the human race into 3 distinct types. Look Aways, Look Closelies and Look when not looking! I also enjoy looking out of car windows onto the concrete monotony of the motorway. Aeroplanes windows can be great fun too - the scarred landscape that man has wrought - his presence written on the ordered geometry of fields. Train windows can be the most relaxing. Why? Well, unlike an aeroplane you're not 36,000 feet up in the air and therefore not in imminent danger of sudden death. 36,000 feet is an unnatural position for a human being to find himself in - hence the reason why you can't really relax on an aeroplane - whereas on ground level you're pretty much on home turf. And with trains you have the added advantage of the landscapes and peoples faces changing like a kaleidoscope - especially on very long journeys that last days.

What a wonderful thing this thin sheet of window glass is! A thin sheet of clearness - that separates you - from the outside - what a miracle of human ingenuity it is. It is strong enough to keep you warm and dry and safe and full of oxygen. Whereas the world on the outside might be cold, wet, windy and dangerous. What would the ancients have made of transparent glass? Oh, how they would marvel at the view from a car or train window! I think at first, they'd probably not even see the glass at all. They might even attempt to pass through it - only to be met with a wall that refused to budge. A magic wall - and then; as their eyes adjusted, they would see it for what it is. A miracle!

When I'm on the train and if I have a window seat I play a little mind game. I close my eyes for 5 minutes and then when I open them, I pretend I'm opening them for the first time. It's a muse that allows me to view the world as if fresh and brand new. Suddenly I find myself just born and in this weird place called a train carriage, with lights, and a view that whooshes past, and it's warm inside - and it stops at places called 'stations' where people get off and new people get on...it's cold and wet and windy outside - I can see the trees and branches dancing and swaying. But inside it's nice! It's a less concentrated version of the feeling you get when you're in some poor hot country (like India for example) and sitting comfortably inside an air conditioned train carriage sipping ice-cold lemon tea - whereas outside, it's a baking oven with countless skinny brown faces - struggling away. It's good to be on the right side of the window. Always has been - and a large chunk of travelling pleasure is gained from this very feeling. It's an unfortunate truth, but a large portion of the pleasure of travel (not all of it) is based on the reality that the world has two types of people in it: the have's and the have not's. Tourism is, in a way, a form of colonialism - but at a safe distance. When we travel abroad; especially to poorer nations - we are like the colonials of old. How the locals dither and dance to our every whim! How obsequious they become when they hear the chink of ready money.

The photographer too views the world through glass. Albeit a glass lens that can distort distorts the view - making it wider or nearer, or (as with a fish-eye lens) totally alien! Looking through a camera is like looking through a cafe window at the pavement life. It's just more concentrated with a camera - and the camera records moments in time, not motion pictures. And the photographer has the artistic license to put his own stamp on the image. To say something. To say: This is I, and this what I have seen, and what I have felt.

Valentine's day treat number 3 : The Lie that is Love

2011-02-14T21:55:00.003Z

I don’t do love very well. I’ve never really gotten a grip of them; the words that is. They always come out mangled as if someone’s been at them with a chainsaw. Soar? No, they don’t soar. The words don’t even get off the ground! What are words but squiggles on a screen - musical notes – the slant of copperplate – the inflections of desire. What is the most hackneyed combination of words in the whole world? ‘I - love – you’ – overused and over abused. I - Love - You, how pathetic! What does that stupid phrase mean anyway? ‘I – love - you’. Who invented it? It sounds like something someone who doesn’t have anything to say, would say. Perhaps that is its appeal? If you don't know what to say, then say: I love you...

‘Love is being in love with the idea of somebody being in love with you’

Think about it. Love is selfish. Love is narcissism.

I know this is going to sound a little crude so I hope you’ll forgive me. It's something I was thinking about the other day. A sort of little test: if you want to know whether you ‘really’ love someone. And I mean really love them for who they are and not as a device for sex - than ask yourself how you feel about them after you’ve had a wank (i.e. after you've masturbated!). If your desire for them takes a nose-dive than that means you only want them for sex! Good huh? Sick huh? Brilliant huh?!

Here’s another question: What is the purpose of love? Why do we ache and suffer for this crazy little thing called love? – What is its (as the French so nicely put it) 'Raison d’être?' (Reason for being). Everything has a utility function. The utility function of feelings of romantic love is quite simply procreation. i.e. babies. Let me rephrase it:

I am in madly in love with you because my brain releases certain chemical compounds when I see and think about you. These chemicals released by my brain strengthen certain neural ‘connections’ – thus leading to feelings of being helplessly, hopelessly, head over heels, madly in love with you. My brain releases these chemicals because it has been programmed to do so. I have inherited this programmed ability from the genes of my ancestors. My ancestors passed on this ability to their descendants when they had children. The ancestors that had children, and thus who passed on those genes for feeling romantic love, were those who ‘fell in love’ themselves.

In short: thank god my ancestors fell in love…and had children. Love is good because humans who fall in love have children. All my ancestors going back millions of years fell in love and had children. Not a single one of them said: ‘Nah, I don’t think I’ll bother’. Some people might flinch at my scientific determinism; the reducing of love down to its basic principles – thus taking away from its emotional beauty. Don’t get me wrong. Love is beautiful and wonderful – probably the seminal experience of the human condition and I am not trying to degrade it here. All I’m saying is that looking at love from a different angle helps one to see it differently.

Also, I may ‘know’ that the raison d’être for love is to ‘encourage’ humans to have children but that doesn’t mean that I am not affected by it. Though I can see through the screen of its trickery, though I can say ‘Oh love! I know what you're up to. You don't fool me!’, ultimately my brain is human and love effects me in exactly the same way as it affects you or anybody else.

There was something else I was thinking about the other day. It’s an interesting thought and I’d like to share it with you. The world is populated with approx 8 billion people. 4 billion of these are male or female. Excluding those who are too young or too old, that means that there is a vast reservoir of people with whom you could ‘potentially’ fall in love with. Yet, when you fall in love you fall in love with one person and you believe that this ‘one’ person is the only person for you. You start believing that you somehow managed to chance upon this one person and are amazingly lucky to have them! What I am getting at is the 'exclusivity' of love. The fact that we humans don’t fall in love with two or three people at the same time – it’s usually just one - one out of billions. What is the probability that you would meet and fall in love with the ‘one’ out of a pool of billions?

The reason we fall in love with the ‘one’ is not because they are the ‘one’ but because they live near us, work with us, are a friend of a friend or family, that we accidentally bumped into them in the supermarket. The reason for our infatuation with the 'one' is more prosaic than we'd like to admit. Obviously there are compatibility criteria, but even within those compatibility criteria, there are still a hell of a lot of potential people you could fall in love with but this is limited by the number of people you meet.

And yet when you fall in love you think that this is the only person for you and you’ll never find anybody else! When your partner leaves you, your whole world falls apart, and you contemplate suicide and think life is not worth it! This always fills me with wonder - this irrational coup de foudre. Another way to put it is to say that within the limits of compatibility, who you fall in love with is more or less out of your control! Yet, if you ask any couple, they'll say that they were ‘destined to be’, that it was ‘written in the stars’ or that it 'couldn't have been any other way'. Bollocks! The laws of probability say otherwise. The human brain is just not very good at seeing the inter-connectivity of the world and how these invisible forces of probability and proximity conspire in our lives.

In my daily life there are a whole bunch of people I could potentially fall in love with. People who are rushing by me all the time; on London’s bustling trains, on the buses, on the streets, in the supermarket, serving me in the shop, in the bookshop. In a parallel universe I might fall in love with one of them. In another parallel universe I might fall in love with another, and in yet another universe I might get knocked over by a bus…well who knows!

The thing is we are slaves to forces beyond our comprehension and control. Like pawns in a celestial chess game we scuttle along the three dimensions of a multi-dimensional universe. Cause and affect. Love and love-lost. Paradise and paradise lost – if we really understood these things perhaps we’d be masters of the universe?

I know what you're thinking. Am I master of the universe?

(wink)...Of course I am.

Valentine's day treat number 2 : 'I Hate Valentines Day'

2011-02-14T20:28:00.003Z

I hate valentines’ day
Cos it really really sucks
All these people with cards
Never seen so many mugs

Dairy and Milk chocolates
For their ‘other’ halves
Hope they get fat
and grow a hairy mustache

Am I jealous?
No, why would I be?
Hey, my life is cool man
I have Nintendo Wii!

Though I'll still wander
Like a crafty little fox
A peak tomorrow morning
Into my letter box

You never know I might
Have admirers of sorts
In Cuba, Guatemala or Burma
Gotta be in somebodies thoughts

Though I doubt very much
Doubt very much I do
The only card I’m getting
Is from Timbuktu

Oh, what’s this I found?
Some chocolates on my bed!
Wow! Let’s take a closer look...
Ugh! Its rat droppings instead!

That’s just my luck you see
Please don’t feel sorry - for me
Valentine day’s not for everybody
Especially not for me

Maybe god will feel sorry
And bless my little heart
Send an angel down from heaven
With a cheap valentines card

Though it’s not how cheap
Nor how expensive
What really counts is;
That there is atleast something!

That somebody has thought of you
And you amongst billions
Are you really that special?
A grain of sand in a trillion!

Wow! What a feeling that is
that someone thinks you’re special
And doesn’t think you belong
In a mental hospital

If I had you for a day
on Valentines Day I would;
Not buy you a present
Like everybody says I should:

But instead:

I'd cuddle you for two minutes
Instead of the one
And listen to you non-stop
Even if you drove me nuts

Offer you two slices of pizza
Instead of the one
And let you watch TV
Yeah, watch whatever you want!

I’d cuddle you with arms
And cuddle you with my legs
And just when you're thinking 'Thank God it's over'
I’d cuddle you in bed

Can you do that?
I wonder if you can
Cuddle someone forever
I don’t know; maybe I’m mad

I wonder how many cuddles
I have in me to give
Millions and millions I bet
You watch this Valentines;
I’ll be cuddling myself to bed.

Valentine's day treat number 1 : 'Mr Nobody and Miss Sunshine' (a modern fairytale)

2011-02-14T20:15:00.014Z

It was valentines evening in LondonTown. The night was young with that lovely blue sky that remains after the sun has set. The pigeons in Trafalgar Square were coo-cooing. Everywhere you looked love was in the air. Lovers embraced on park benches and kissed openly on the Underground. They hugged on buses and ordered pizza and romance DVD's for a night-in. Some looked into each other’s eyes across restaurant tables and some had big arguments and promised never to see each other again!

Mr Nobody and Miss Sunshine also sat across a restaurant table. Their table had a large red rose, two flickering candles and dinner plates decorated with twin hearts entwined. Miss Sunshine was wearing a black sequin dress with a low-neck line. Her sequins were sparkling in the candle-light. She looked positively radiant and she had a smile to die for. How many men would die for that smile? Millions! She was the most beautiful creature in the restaurant.

All the other men (who were also with their girlfriends) were secretly looking at her from the corner of their eyes and wondering who was that lucky guy with her? Bastard! What did he have they didn’t? Well the one thing this lucky man did not have was a sense of style – that’s for sure!

The lucky man was of course Mr Nobody. He was wearing a pink shirt, tie and shiny suit and he looked like he was at a job interview! He had spent 20 minutes in front of the bathroom mirror polishing his teeth – and when he opened his mouth his teeth sparkled almost as much as Miss Sunshine’s necklace!

Mr Nobody was also a little nervous – he was sweating very badly – the sweat was pouring down his face and into his soup making ‘plop! plop!’ sounds as it did so. With every spoon of soup he ate, more sweat would go into the soup. In the end he was left with a bowl of sweat and not much soup. Miss Sunshine found this very funny and couldn't stop laughing. The thing is Mr Nobody had not been on a date with a girl since a long time ago. In fact the last time he took a girl out was when he was in seventh grade of school when he took his classmate Alice to the sweetshop for some cola bottles and strawberry bonbons...

Mr Nobody had read somewhere (book title: Romance For Dummies) that the first thing a man should do on a date is to tell the women how beautiful she looks. So that's exactly what Mr Nobody did.

This is how the conversation went in the restaurant:

[Mr Nobody]
‘Oh lady lady burning bright
On this valentines night
What talented artist of taste
Drew your beautiful face?’

[Miss Sunshine]
‘Mm! What are those strange words you speak? You weird Mr Freaky!’

[Mr Nobody]
‘I have travelled among unknown men
in lands beyond the sea
No heaven did I know till when
My eyes first cast upon thee’

[Miss Sunshine]
‘I must admit you are rather odd!’

[Mr Nobody]
‘The odder I am the more you see
See my tearful eyes, swimming in infinity?’

[Miss Sunshine]
Miss Sunshine stared into Mr Nobody’s eyes. They were as deep as the ocean and as lonely as the depths - for a moment she thought she might drown in them. She quickly swam back to the surface:

‘Woh! Your eyes do speak – but your tongue speaks in poetry! Please stop speaking like that Sir Poet. It is so annoying!’

[Mr Nobody]
‘Forgive me for I never caused to annoy
hear my heart it cries, for a scrap of joy!'

[Miss Sunshine]
‘You are crazy. Do you know that!?’

[Mr Nobody]
‘The stars and heavens are in a twist
my lonely heart wrapped in a kiss
beyond the shores of pirate lands
I stole your kiss with sleight of hand
where did it go? Where lay hidden that kiss?
Why not on my cheeks, little Miss?’

[Miss Sunshine]
Miss Sunshine found the poetry provocative. She didn’t understand all of it – but it was having a profound effect on her…it was making her skin all tingly! She found herself being drawn to Mr Nobody. There was something about him. Maybe he was from a different planet?! Maybe he would take her to his world - wherever his world was! He wasn't bad looking either. OK, OK he had a terrible dress sense and he wore too much perfume and he never smiled and he sweated a lot but he was funny - he made her laugh.

And then Miss Sunshine had an urge, a desire. She leaned forward as if to kiss Mr Nobody but he moved back and retreated into his chair. She was surprised by this. He had asked for a kiss and when she offered it, he refused! What a strange man!

[Mr Nobody]
‘A mortal kiss from lip to lip
I fear my love will chain me to this’

[Miss Sunshine]
‘What do you mean ‘chain you'? Is my kiss nothing but a prison chain?’

[Mr Nobody]
‘Yes, the bird that soars mighty and free
high and brilliant that is me
above the clouds and beyond the oceans
there I rest free of love, and such silly notions’

[Miss Sunshine]
‘You want to be free of love? You selfish monster! You think love is a prison? I offer you a kiss and you throw it back in my face like a dirty dishcloth!’

[Mr Nobody]
‘It is not your love that I fear
but the metal chains do you hear?
They come in the night to drag me away
strong I must be and in love’s nest – not stay’

[Miss Sunshine]
In anger she threw her drink in Mr Nobody’s face. She then got up and stormed off to the ladies bathroom to calm down. On the way she huffed and puffed: ‘Who does he think he is! I offer him a kiss and he say’s no! And why can’t he speak like normal people? And that pink shirt! And that bloody tie! Idiot! Ugh!’

[Mr Nobody]
(While she is was in the ladies Mr Nobody had time to think – and time to wipe his face!)

‘A fiery temper and fiery heart
go hand-in-hand what a blast!
I have hurt Miss Sunshine and many things more
better catch her heart when it falls
I must escape this bad situation
rescue this date from certain destruction
Win her back, I must plan it
with gentle words, yes I can do it!
OK, here she comes from the ladies - she is done
Time for Mr Nobody, to wave his magic wand!

Miss Sunshine arrived back from the ladies and calmly sat down on her seat. She had been crying but had regained her composure and powdered her cheeks.

[Mr Nobody]
Grabbing hold of Miss Sunshine’s hand and placing it next to his heart he said:

‘Listen, listen - my darling do you hear?
My heart is beating fast – hear! hear!
Like a drum beat it goes thus:
Da-dum, Da-dum, Dada-dum!’

[Miss Sunshine]
‘Yes I can hear it. So you do have a heart! So what? What else do you have besides a heart? A heart is not enough!’

[Mr Nobody]
He put her hand on his head and said:

‘Feel my head, see how large?
Home to a brain, so vast
My brain so big and capable
Of solving puzzles and 12 Times tables!’

[Miss Sunshine]
‘Ok, so you have a HEART and you have a BRAIN. So what?’

[Mr Nobody]
He placed her hand on his arm:

‘Feel my muscles, see how big
Strong arms to open, any bottle or lid
of strawberry jam or tomato ketchup
These muscles can do anything - you betcha!’

[Miss Sunshine]
‘Ok, so you have a HEART and a BRAIN and strong MUSCLES. So what?’

[Mr Nobody]
He put her hand on his chest:

‘Feel my breathing, feel my lungs
Like an Olympic athlete, I can run
100 metres in 10 seconds; I can do it
Faster than a cheetah, faster than a bullet!’

[Miss Sunshine] (Still not impressed)
Ok, so you have a HEART and a BRAIN and MUSCLES and LUNGS. So what? Is that all!

[Mr Nobody]
Mr Nobody finally placed her hand over his mouth:

‘Feel these lips, feel my mouth
They can do magic – without a doubt
Feel my lips stretch into a smile
10 metres high, and as wide as a mile!

(Suddenly Miss Sunshine could feel his smile from behind her hand. He was smiling. Amazing!)

And my lips can do something else – not only smile
Watch out! here comes a kiss, planted with style……Moowah!’

...And so it was that Mr Nobody finally kissed Miss Sunshine…

And then?

And then the stars sang
The rainbow smiled
The moon shone
The sun rose
The comet blazed

And the clouds?

The clouds were nowhere to be seen.

-THE END-

The Vintage Vagabond - birthday post

2011-02-05T12:00:00.007Z

"Happy birthday to me
Happy birthday to me
Happy birthday to the vag-uh-bonnnd
Happy birthday toooo me"

Alright. That's quite enough of that.

Yup - it's that time of year again when one celebrates another momentous heave-ho, another crawl, another mighty push, another milestone towards 'The End'. Yep - today is my birthday - again. Another one to add to my collection. As you get older you inevitably get wealthier - in birthdays!

Where I work everybody's birthday is marked by a cake and congratulatory clapping. Yes everybody claps and say's 'well done!'. I'm quite the cynical sort so I'm always thinking: Why the clapping? Well done for what? - it's not as if I actually did anything special? Apart from stay alive for another year and even that was automatic. I didn't have to remind my heart to beat, nor my muscles to contract or my stomach and mouth to eat. It was all so easy wasn't it! I didn't have to do anything. Just be me! So why the clapping? I suppose, to be fair, I did avoid getting run over by a car or a train. I did avoid getting into a lethal fight or falling off a cliff. Not that there are many cliffs here in London. I avoided being poisoned in a dodgy kebab restaurant (a more likely death scenario here in London).

So to conclude: I don't see the point of congratulating someone for their birthday. At least here now in the 21st century anyway. Maybe if I was living in the 14th - 18th centuries then it would be considered an achievement to have survived at all and not to have died from all manner of scourges such as bubonic plague, syphilis, cholera, gout, gut-worm, yellow-fever, the inquisition, insurrections, burning at the stake for heresy, child-birth (not relevant to me of course), wars, common infections and influenza.

But today, in the affluent year of 2011, we are more likely to die of diseases of plenty. What are these? A recent piece of research just out of Imperial College has revealed that 1 in 10 people on planet earth today is obese. Obese = BMI of 30kg per square metre of body area. BMI is a measure of your weight divided by your height. If you're BMI is between 18-25 then you're fine. Mine is 23. So I'm perfect (!). Literally...

Another disease of plenty is cancer (generally). The reason I call cancer a disease of plenty is because of two reasons:

a) It's generally a disease of old-age. The older you are the more likely you are of dying of cancer. Cancer is a recent and unnatural disease in the sense that people only get cancer if they live long enough. And only recently; with the phenomenal advances in medicine and preventive health; do we live long enough to get cancer. Our ancestors never died of cancer! They died of something else first. But not before having children - which is why they are our ancestors in the first place....but I am risking going on a tangent here!

b) There is lots of evidence that the abnormal diet of plenty (high fat, cholesterol, wine, fine cheeses!, red meat etc) contribute to cancer risk. It seems these rich foods somehow wreak havoc with the DNA replication machinery of cells - thus giving rise to mutant cells that don't die after the requisite number of cell divisions...again I am risking going on a biochemical tangent here too! (always a risk with me - well, its not my fault I have a brain the size of a planet...the planet being Jupiter of course and not the earth (Jupiter = much bigger then the earth)).

Anyway, now that I have given my ego a well deserved birthday massage it's time to come down to earth again.

So yes it's my birthday today and yes it's no big deal; yet I some-why thought it important enough to warrant a blog entry. Alright, alright - it's Saturday morning, I'm in a cafe (Lemon Monkey) and I can't think of anything better to write about! Also (and I've just realised this after reading my previous birthday posts) - that I always end up writing about death and moribund stuff - on my birthday! Mm...Is that normal? Does my birthday really put me in touch with my mortality? And do I enjoy the fact that my birthday makes me realise that this life is finite - and that therefore all its ails and woes and joys and happinesses are mere ephemera...?

You know there is a certain pleasure to be had from the realisation that nothing lasts. That all is fleeting. The good and the bad. That one day you will once again be part of the nebular cloud from whence you were begotten. There's something strangely and beguilingly emancipating about this knowledge.

They say wine and cheeses get better with age. I hope the same applies to me.

Anyway, to finish of here's a birthday text I just received from my nieces:

Happy birthday 2 u
u live in a zoo
u look like a monkey
oh, and you smell like one 2.

...charming.

Adios.

The Vintage Vagabond.

The Greatest Invention Ever?

2011-01-29T11:27:00.003Z

Embedded deep within the green structure of plants is perhaps the greatest invention audacious nature ever came up with. Nature is full of wonderful inventions. Who can argue with the brilliance of inventions as wonderful and diverse as wings, eyes, brains, consciousness, er...women, sex, muscles, the orgasm, DNA replication, photosynthesis. But there is another invention that is not as well known as the above. Probably because it is more subtle and it does its magic with little fanfare. I am of course (!) referring to the 'Oxygen Evolving Complex' or OEC for short. This is a little cluster of molecules that sits at the beginning of the plant photosynthetic machinery. It basically looks like a circular cusp with an open end and a Manganese atom in the middle. What makes this structure special is that it has the singular ability; unique to all life and chemical processes on earth, of taking ordinary dull unresponsive water, and splitting it into the very reactive oxygen and hydrogen gases; using nothing but energy from sunlight. Now I know what you are thinking. Why am I harking on about this? Why am I even deigning to mention this? What place does something so obviously geekish have in a cool blog such as this? Have I gone mad?! Do I harbor a secret masochistic desire to destroy my carefully cultivated cool and funky persona? Well, I appreciate your concern and I also appreciate your comments but just bare with me here.

You see the thing is water is very stable. Water exists on earth in 3 physical states: liquid water, steam and ice - and it exists everywhere and most importantly of all, it is almost impossible to split water into its components (hydrogen and oxygen) without using a lot of energy. Try heating up a pan of water and what happens? Answer: it turns to steam. Try heating up some ice and what happens: it turns to liquid water. Try cooling steam and what happens? It condenses to liquid water. See - it's almost impossible to split it up!

You can however split water into its components in the lab by passing an electric current through it. You'll end up with oxygen gas at the positive electrode and hydrogen at the negative electrode. Plants however are smarter. Oh yes. They may not look it but green plants are really really smart! They have evolved over millions of years the oxygen evolving complex - that structure I mentioned earlier on, that allows them to remove electrons from water using energy from sunlight - and by removing electrons from water - you end up splitting it into hydrogen and oxygen gases. The amazing thing is that the energy they need to do this is minimal - a single photon of light per water molecule!

If we humans can imitate this process. If we humans can learn how plants do it, and then copy it. If we can set up on a massive factory scale this water splitting process. If we can take normal stable abundant nonreactive water - and pass it through our factory at one end - and then at the other end - end up with hydrogen and oxygen gases - all from using energy from sunlight - do you know what we will have done?

Do you?

Caused a world revolution! We'd only have gone and solved our energy crisis! And with this a major chunk of the current contemporary conflicts raging around the world. Yes! I kid you not. Free abundant energy for all in the guise of hydrogen gas. The hydrogen gas released can power our energy greedy lives. And the best bit is - there won't be any nasty by products either - only water! You see burning hydrogen with oxygen to release energy will form water again! All this powered by abundant free sunlight.

They say there is no such thing as a free lunch.

I always thought the universe and life were free lunches - and now to add to this list - the oxygen evolving complex.

Smart or what?

Can we do it? Can humanity work together and do it?

Who needs drugs when you've got imagination

2011-01-16T11:35:00.006Z

Some people use drugs. Others take ecstasy, LSD or magic mushrooms. Some drink alcohol. A certain remote tribe in Africa take 'Imphepho' to induce a trance like state. The Sanema people in present day Venezuela take a powerful hallucinogenic drug called 'Sakona' taken from the dried sap of the Virola tree - it brings forth visions. The world appears anew. The forest comes alive. The spirits creep out of their dwelling places.

I don't need any of this to get a high. I can just use my imagination.

Yesterday; in one of those trance like states that often overtake me - I suddenly realised, in a moment of sublime clarity, that the whole of this world: the tides, the winds, the weather, the snow, the rain, the waves crashing down on the shore - the clouds, the plants, the whole of life in fact - everything - the volcanoes, earthquakes, the movement of the continents - everything - me, you, the lamp hanging over this screen, the radiator keeping my room warm, the thin life-line of electrons in the form of electricity that keeps my laptop alive nay powers it, the energy required to boil me a cup of water for my coffee - the energy I consume to keep me alive - from the bread and cheese and chocolates I eat, to the green olives I enjoy - everything - the whole of this - is powered by one thing and one thing only.

The sun.

Or rather; to be more precise in thermodynamic terms - the energy or entropic gradient between the sun and the earth. Let me explain. Everything you see around you is powered and made possible by the simple fact that the sun is many magnitudes more energetic then the earth. The sun has a lot of energy - the earth little - or to put it in another way - the sun has low entropy or low disorder and entropy is a measure of the amount of disorder in a system. The 2nd Law of thermodynamics states that on a whole, entropy or disorder increases. The sun is steadily becoming more disordered by loosing its energy in the form of heat and light. This heat travels to the earth and powers the weather. The light on the other hand is soaked up by plants during photosynthesis and used to make sugars. Plants convert sunlight energy into chemical bond energy and this is stored in sugars. We eat plants or we eat animals, but either way we are using the sunlight energy stored in the bonds in sugar molecules to power ourselves.

I am typing this using the energy that was initially present in sun beams! What a poetic thought! My thoughts, my emotions, my feelings - the firing of my neurons, the twitching of my muscles, the heat of my body - the words on this page - all this and more is powered by the sun!

What is life?

How is life possible if the 2nd Law of thermodynamics states that the universe is tending towards a more disordered state? Surely, life is ordered? It is, but the increase in order that life engenders is exceeded by the disorder that results from life processes - i.e. loss of bodily heat, respiration, decomposition - ultimately, the 2nd Law still stands. Life is a small pocket of order in a universal system that tends towards disorder. I am a pocket of order. You are a pocket of order. When you die, you will become disordered - your body will become one with the environment - your temperature, PH, salinity, composition will assume that of the earth - eventually. All the innumerable products of vitality resume, after death, the original form from which they sprung. And thus death - the complete dissolution of an existing generation - becomes a source of life for a new one.

But for now, for this brief existence - during this ephemeral moment of life - I am fighting against the 2nd Law (not defying it).

This world is full of 'life things'. And these life things were once simple single-celled molecules; but now, look around you - they have morphed into the rich and complex tapestry of flora and fauna you see around today. Isn't that amazing?! I spend much time thinking about the sheer otherworldliness of life. The sheer amazingness of trees. The sheer improbability of flowers and bees. The miracle of my being here, alive, right now. Most of us spend our lives staring at the pavement. If only we just raised up our heads and looked around a little. I mean it. Look around you. Forget for a moment your jobs, children, troubles, wants, needs, vexations, ills and ails - just stop! Pause. Look around and ask yourselves: what is all this?

Fly ten miles up and view the whole of creation (past, present and future) in one blink of an eye. In one image. In one viewing.

Who needs drugs when you've got your imagination.

Stop Begging Me!

2011-01-11T21:16:00.000Z

After having posted the message below I have begun receiving a steady torid drip-drip of messages imploring me, nay begging me - to post extracts from my forthcoming book. No! Buzz off! Leave me alone! I will post extracts if and when I feel like it. Your incessant whining and dribbling and annoying sycophantic lovey-dovey rhapsodising ain't gonna change my mind. Yes, I know you can't wait. Yes, I know this will be the most influential book since the King James Bible. Yes, I know I am a living genius who has found his true vocation in life. Yes, I know you all love me. Yes, I know genius is sexy - but quit kneeling before me. It don't suit you. I'm not God. Well not yet anyway. A time will come I assure you, in the future, when an extract will be posted. An extract of such distilled potency that in the words of a famous Queen song: "Gunpowder, Gelatine. Dynamite with a laser beam. Guaranteed to blow your mind - anytime!'

So until then. Stay calm. Please. Otherwise you might go mad.

Message for my readers

2011-01-04T15:43:00.006Z

Due to the fact that the Swashbuckling Vagabond has finally figured out how to finish his damn book (maybe the slow ticking away of time had a hand in it), the blog service you see here, will be (like the government spending cuts), undergo a drastic reduction. I will be posting items now and again...and (maybe) if you're lucky (and if you beg me hard enough), and (if you say 'please please pretty please!' frequently enough) I may even deign to post extracts...for your titillation...

...occasionally.

When I feel like it...

Watch this space.

New Year Message for 2011 (and beyond...)

2010-12-31T10:53:00.012Z

There will never be peace on earth.

Never.

Ever.

...Not in a million years.

The only time we will get peace on earth is in the distant future - many millions of years hence, when the sun has grown fat and mushroomed into an obese red giant, and swallowed the earth whole. This last gasp of breath - this final death rattle of the earth, will usher forth a sort of peace for the wretched mass of miserable-striving humanity. But it will be a peace of non-existence - that state of care-free nonchalant sleep stamped on the face of sleepers. But for all intents and practical purposes my statement still stands:

...there will never be peace on earth. As long as there is an earth there will never be peace on earth.

I know. I know. It's a rather pessimistic and sobering assessment ain't it? This is supposed to be the merry season of cheer and Christmas and mince pies!

Perhaps (you're thinking) Wasim is just having a bad day and his thoughts have taken up a darker hue as a result of some gloom that has overcast his mind. Or perhaps, Wasim didn't get any Christmas presents and wishes ill, sulphur and brimstone on the whole world! Yes, tomorrow morning Wasim will wake up with a more cheerful head atop his neck! - that is what you are thinking right?

Wrong! No, I am not having a bad day. In fact my day has been rather good. I have no complaints to make today (and who would I complain to anyway?). It has all gone rather well. I didn't wake up with a nasty headache. I got a good nights sleep. I bought a new toy which I am giddy with excitement with and on the verge of reviewing (watch out for the review!)

Yet, despite the above, I know deep down, that there will never ever be peace on earth.

I do wish - I really do - that a day would arrive when people would once and for all set aside their differences, embrace one another, see each other in each others eyes - and live happily ever after...but alas this is a pipe dream. We will never get peace on earth because the human condition will not allow it. Our inheritance will not allow it. An inheritance we have accumulated; that has been steadily hoisted upon our shoulders, over many years - and in everything we do, every breath we take, every love we embrace, every child we create, every satisfaction and pleasure we satiate, we will never get peace whilst we live and there is breath in our lungs.

You see life is not about peace. Peace is not its 'purpose' or raison d'etre. We don't exist because of peace. We exist in spite of it. We exist because of struggle. The struggles of the past and the struggles of the future to come. Life is struggle incarnate, life is want, life is craving, life is coveting - these are the nasty bedfellows; the demons sitting broodingly on our shoulders, weighing us down - our shoulders hunched, our mouths agape, our eyes distrustful, our hearts shrivelled like dried apples, our earthly hopes dashed, our lives (seemingly) without purpose.

We live on a world that spins on endlessly in a cold dark vacuum of nothingness. Have you seen Space? Do you have any idea what Space is like? I do. Mulled endlessly I have over it. I know Space intimately. For it dwells up there and has made a home inside my breast. It courses through my veins. We are alone - utterly, maddeningly, heart-breakingly alone in the vast ocean of stars. There are moments when I feel this with such force - with such brutal honesty - that it is like an icy grip on my heart. A feeling of utter desolate bareness. Like a once fertile landscape blighted by some natural calamity.

Yet...there is hope. A little hope. A little slender green shoot of hope that takes root and grows forth from the black desolate earth. A green shoot that crashes through the soil and takes aim for the skies!! A green shoot that knows all too well that all is utterly vain, yet it still strives and thrives. A green shoot that sees itself as the engine of innovation, as the answer to the indifference of the universe, as a big 'Fuck you!' to the whole of Creation. Yes, a big wet slap in the face of Time. Against a backdrop of a forest of black burnt-out trees this green shoot rejoices! Ah yes how it rejoices! Rejoices at the miracle of its own existence! How it could be, how it could possibly happen, that this green shoot could despite the odds - deign to exist!

Hey you little green shoot - how dare you defy - entropy!

Do I have a message for 2011 and beyond?

I do:

Go forth and exist. And continue your defiance! We are all; each and every one of us, green shoots, in a spinning sea of emptiness.

P.S: and (for what they're worth) my resolution(s) for 2011 are: Write more, take more photographs, read less, look out of the window more and go on a very long wander somewhere...far out.

On Talent

2010-12-30T14:15:00.006Z

If you can't excel with talent, triumph with effort.

Dave Weinbaum

Talent is cheaper than table salt.

What separates the talented individual from the successful one is a lot of hard work.

Stephen King

However great a man's natural talent may be, the act of writing cannot be learned all at once.

Jean Jacques Rousseau

I have no special talent. I am only passionately curious

Albert Einstein

Use what talent you possess

the woods would be very silent if no birds sang there except those that sang best.

Henry VanDyke

_______________

I don’t know for sure if there is something real that we can call talent. Maybe there is, maybe there isn’t. What is sure is that there are people debating for one option or the other, and being very adamant about their beliefs.

For me, if there is such a thing as talent, it is the ability to make the best use of your time, when doing something you deeply care about, by engaging in regular practice, study and dedication. Talent is also seeking help from people who are where you want to be, because the experience of someone who is more experienced than you is one of the most valuable assets you can find. Finally, talent is not giving up when faced with difficulties. Talent, in other words, is the ability to focus, work hard, seek guidance and not give up.

I believe that these are qualities that we all have. I believe that all of us can focus our efforts on regular study and practice. I believe that we can all look for help from those more experienced than we are. Finally I believe that we can all find the courage necessary to not give up in front of difficulty. Therefore, I believe that talent is something we all have. All we need to do is decide to use these abilities, decide to nurture them and allow them to grow rather than leave them unused and ignored.

Talent is overrated. Believing that talent alone could do the job, is a falsity. Study, practice and focusing on specific projects - that is the key. Study under the guidance of someone who is where you want to be; regular practice with a subject that you are passionate about; specific focus on projects that you care about and that are important for you and that you want to complete.

In closing, I want to say this: What matters most is not where we are right now. It is not the skills we have today or the images we are able to create right now or the writings we are able to invent. What matters most is: what we believe about ourselves. Why? Because it is this belief that will determine what we can become, what we can achieve in the future. It is this belief that will shape the road ahead, it is this belief that will influence which path you are going to take.

_______________

Mince Pies, Christmas and Other irreverent thoughts

2010-12-27T12:03:00.002Z

Mince Pies

Who loves Mince Pies?

Answer: I do.

Let me tell you about my Mince Pie fetish. Marks & Spencer's started selling Mince pies this year on 1st Oct. How do I know? I know because I notice these things. That's 3 whole months before Christmas! I remember picking up a box and looking at the best before date: 22 Oct! Who buys Mince Pies in Oct for Christmas with a best before date of 22 Oct?

Answer: I do.

Why? Because I have absolutely no intention of keeping them till December. I have every intention of eating them. As I said I really like Mince Pies. Which is why I am wholly surprised to learn that most people don't, and that most people only eat Mince pies on account of a Christmas-thing-to-do. But to start selling Christmas stuff a full three months before Christmas seems to me a little bit exuberant! That's Christmas for a whole 3 months of the year!

Single slices of Christmas cake

There was something I noticed the other day. Single slices of Christmas cake. Not two slices for maybe a couple who can't be bothered to bake a whole cake. But a single slice. For one person. A slice for you and no slices for your no pals. For those spending Christmas alone. Ahh....it (almost) made me cry.

A Christmas Nativity Play

I remember this very clearly. I was at Primary school. Probably about 6 years old and we were having a school nativity play. My teacher told me I couldn't play Jesus in the play because I was not the 'right' religion. I remember feeling there was something wrong with me! (I still do). I remember going home and telling my mum. She said it was OK because I was 'supposed' to be a Muslim and we didn't celebrate Christmas. I remember my mum telling me about Islam and that Jesus was really a Muslim and about the prophets and all that. Even as a 6 year old I loved reading books and absorbed them like sunlight. So I absorbed everything my mum told me but even then I had a nagging feeling that my mum didn't really 'believe' these silly stories! I had already come to the conclusion that the Tooth Fairy was fiction and Father Christmas didn't really exist. So why should I believe in this God bloke! What did he ever give me. He seemed more like a stern father who told you what you could and couldn't do. He never really sat down with his children and talked to them.

How to avoid big family fights on Christmas

We all have family relations we can't stand - right? People you absolutely loathe, have nothing in common with, can't stand to be around - people who's every comment, every gesture - makes your gears and teeth grind and your blood erupt in volcanic eruptions. If you have such relations, and there is no chance you will ever be reconciled with them, and they are close relations whom you must invite around Christmas (cos if you don't a small nuclear bomb will go off in your family), here's what to do. Invite them. Oh yes, invite them round! But also invite a ton of other people too. Invite everyone together even the unwanted guests, that way you can lose them in the crowd, ignore them in the milieu. You don't have to speak to them at length as you'll be very very busy. You'll loose them in the midst of everyone! Excellent! Job done! Genius!

The Art of the Hoody: Farah Vintage Duffel Coat

2010-12-19T20:41:00.002Z

I bought this the other day. I love it. It's an old English classic with toggle style buttons. It comes in midnight blue and is warm enough to keep the arctic chill at bay. The hoody is great if you want to keep your ears warm. There's a neat little badge, adjustable button cuffs and two large pockets at the front to stuff your cold hands into. Perfect for this arctic weather. I must admit it has got something 'Jonathan Creek' about it, but in a good way. It's not at all a geeky look and heaven knows I'm not a geek. And of course it looks cool!

Movie review : Of Gods And Men

2010-12-05T11:32:00.007Z

"Men never do evil so completely and cheerfully as when they do it from a religious conviction." The speaker is Luc, an elderly Catholic monk played by 79-year-old Michael Lonsdale, quoting a pensée of Pascal. He does it at a moment of crisis and ambiguity: does this thought apply to the Islamist mujahideen who are threatening to kill him and his brothers? Or should it rather apply to these future victims, secretly infatuated with the idea of a martyrdom that will fan the flames of violence for generations to come?

That reference is the sole, perhaps pre-emptive, concession to secularism in this stunningly passionate and deeply moving film by the French director Xavier Beauvois, based on the kidnapping and murder of monks in Algeria by fundamentalists in 1996. The movie is in fact saturated with faith and belief, and part of its power is the absolute conviction of its cinematic language, an idiom of severity, austerity and high seriousness, imitating the spacious silences to which the monks have devoted themselves, and boldly supporting the validity and meaning of their dilemma. Of Gods and Men is a modern tragedy that doesn't require the audience to share its belief any more than something by Aeschylus. It climaxes in a quite incredible "Last Supper" sequence, in which the monks share red wine to the accompaniment of Tchaikovsky's Grand Theme from Swan Lake, playing on an old tape machine in the corner.

Beauvois's camera does nothing but pan slowly around the table while this happens, minutely watching these men's careworn faces as they absorb the mystery of their own deaths. It is an overwhelming fusion of portraiture and drama.

Lambert Wilson plays Christian, the head of a Cistercian monastery in Algeria: a spartan order devoted to contemplation and prayer. Their community has developed a happy relationship with the local Muslim villagers, based partly on the free outpatient clinic they provide. They have a quiet, supportive respect for each other's traditions. But dark forces are gathering: intolerant jihadist forces have already murdered Croatian construction workers, and are rumoured to have the Catholic monks in their sights as the ultimate prize. Theirs is a regressive, brutal worldview – and a cynical police chief, irritably preparing to wash his hands of the imminent bloodbath, tells Christian: "I blame French colonisation for not letting Algeria grow up." The monks must now decide: should they stay or should they go? Is going cowardice? Is staying arrogance? Is martyrdom their destiny?

The monks themselves are permitted little or no backstory. Their lives in France are hardly touched on. Some are very old, especially Amédée, heartbreakingly played by 83-year-old Jacques Herlin, whose face is set in an unreadable expression, perhaps a gentle smile of acceptance and grandfatherly tolerance, or a rictus of suppressed pain. Perhaps he has been here all his life, perhaps not. When Luc is asked by a local young woman – for whom he is a confidant – what love is like, he replies that it is an attraction, a desire, a quickening of the spirits, an intensification of life itself. Beauvois allows us to believe that this chaste monk must, poignantly, be speaking about his love for God, and that his advice is at once truthful and naive. But no. He confesses that he had been in love a number of times before he found his truest love, and so we are shown that Luc had known and lived in the secular world – presumably as a doctor, for he runs the clinic – before he joined the order.

Of Gods and Men strives for simplicity; cinema is usually about dynamism, attraction, ego, but this movie concerns the renunciation of these things, in art and life. But it is also about the question of how to act when this life is violently challenged.

A crazy little thing called life

2010-11-14T11:36:00.005Z

I have been having strange thoughts lately. Not morbid thoughts as such, but thoughts that seem to hover on the fringes of life; at the boundary points of existence between this phenomenal world and that of the spirits. Anything can start this train of thoughts in motion.

Take last night for example. A pretty ordinary November night. Dark. A slight chill in the air. A dampness engraved on the pavement. A fresh breeze. And autumnal leaves scattered everywhere. I stayed indoors last night. I was watching ‘Predators’ – the new Predator movie. It features a group of people who are parachuted into another world for the sole purpose of being hunted and killed by the predators – for sport. One by one the ‘game’ (people) are brutally hunted and killed, and it got me thinking. Maybe it was late, maybe it was the dark, maybe it was the Rioja Gran Reserve 2001, but it got me asking a very simple question (and you can apply this to real life), what ‘crime’ or what ‘sin’ or what ‘misdeed’ had these people committed that meant they were hunted and killed? Let’s ask the question again:

What ‘crime’ does any hunted animal commit that means it is hunted and brutally killed by its predator?

And in a flash of (I like to call it profound) insight the answer came to me: the crime these people; the crime the zebra, the crime any hunted animal that is killed for sport, or killed for food, has committed is the crime of ‘living’. Yes, just being alive, existing, being here, is enough to condemn you to a brutal death in the jaws of a tiger, or a lion, or (in more fantastical terms), a Predator. Just my existing condemns many other animals to death (for I will use them – their flesh for food, skin for clothes, bones for ivory), but also my existing, my being alive, condemns me to a life of struggle and strife, a life of bother and pain, a life of passions not extinguished, a life of wants not satiated, a life of disease, a life of infirm old age, and finally a life of my death.

I have departed much from the theological beliefs of my forefathers; the religious and the non-religious, who seem to view life as some sort of ‘gift’ and therefore worthy of gratitude from the almighty. I pour scorn on such fanciful ideas. Life is not a gift, but a contracted debt. And the debt was contracted in our begetting – that singular moment when our parents gametes fused in an intoxicated bliss of sexual inebriation and our becoming was made possible. I was never asked if I wanted this! (this being my life). Yet I am expected to show gratitude to not only my parents but also to a god, for something I never asked for, for something that was given me without my asking. Sorry but I can’t do that. The fault is not mine! It is my parents that are to blame! I know. I know. It sounds rather ungrateful of me don't it? I sound like a spoilt child that has been given something wonderful but doesn't want it. But you're only thinking that because from the earliest days from cradle to school we are all schooled that life is a gift, a blessing, something to be grateful of – as if the alternative is some abominable hell!

Let me ask you: what is the alternative to life? Answer: non-existence. What is non-existence like? Easy: the opposite of existence. Just think back to the time before you were born...what do you remember? Exactly. Nothing! You don’t remember it do you? It’s just an emptiness, devoid of any pain, any pleasure, devoid of well....anything and everything. A blissful black ocean of nothingness. And compare this to life. I don’t know about you, but I quite ‘like’ this blissful black ocean of nothingness! But you must remember, if you’re in this black nothingness you don’t actually know you’re in it. What I mean to say is that you can’t imagine this blissful black ocean of nothingness as something that exists, positively – it doesn't. It’s the absence of everything – so you can’t imagine yourself sitting in this all enveloping blackness thinking: ‘Oh, this is rather pleasant! This kind of nothingness!’. It’s not like that. It’s absence. So in affect we are comparing life (a positive thing in the sense that it exists) to non-life (which is a negative thing in the sense of absence).

The more I think about this life, and by life I mean life in general; I don’t mean my own ‘personal’ life (which is rather pleasant by the way – free of worries and obligations and stresses), the more I think about life in general, the more I’ve come to realise that we take it way too seriously! Way, way too seriously. We live too much in it. We are swept away by it, like a raging torrent it sweeps us along, and in trying to remain above the water and not drown we don’t notice the torrent and more importantly, we don’t notice the scenery, the banks on either side, the sky and the stars. And we always seem to be pining for the end; or some imaginable point in the end, where the torrent will cease – and we will finally relax and get some rest from this constant struggling. But there’s only a waterfall at the end and we will all go over it and then it will be all over.

I don’t mean to depress you. I really don't! That is not my intention. I want to emancipate you from the tyranny of life. Unshackle you. Strip away those fetters - those mind forg'd manacles. Rather, I think these thoughts should make you sit up straight and take heed. I keep saying this and I will say it again: life is an amazing experience. That is the acme of my philosophy. Everything else I believe stems from this statement. Life is a one in a quadrillion opportunity. Look out there, look up there, look everywhere, there are more stars in the universe then there are sand grains on earth. This planet of ours is a mere blip in the utter black mind-bogglingly vast ocean of stars that is the universe. Our brains cannot possibly contemplate this vast ocean of stars. Obviously it is you and I who are alive because if we weren’t we wouldn’t be here talking about it! We must never forget how special and utterly maddeningly improbable a thing this life is. Yet we become so accustomed to it – we fail to take notice of it. There are moments (many moments) when I sit on the London Tube looking around me with a little smile on my face, and an all expansive feeling of awe, contentment and compassion welling within me. A sereneness not unlike that on the face of the monks – but my smile comes from a realisation springing from the depths of my being, that nothing matters, nothing is worth our troubling over, all will end one day, just sit back and enjoy the ride!

Just sit back and enjoy the ride. That's practical philosophy for you!

Don’t take heed and don't trouble yourself with the opinions of others – others are little people, and little people have little skulls and in those little skulls are little thoughts and little opinions. For most people have not a true vision of the real nature of existence - too ‘involved’ they are in their everyday doings and going on's. It takes the mind like that of a child to look out of the window in a train and wonder goggle-eyed at the majesty of the scenery – it takes the mind of a stupid adult to be seated on the same train as that of the child, but instead have their nose stuck in the newspaper, or attached to another adults ears!

Adulthood! Bah humbug! What a waste! To be an adult is not to have a clear picture of life. To be an adult is to be preoccupied with nonsense. It’s children who really see life for what it is. It is children who are truly wise! I am not jesting. I am being deadly earnest and serious. Only children see this world for the massive sensory overload of a playground that it is. That is why they are constantly jumping around, excited, chasing pigeons in train stations, whilst we adults stare up at the train timetable, wondering when we can get on the train. We don't see the pigeons in a train station. But the children do.

And what does one do in a playground?

Explore and have fun.

I have moved to: www.duluxdreams.wordpress.com

I have moved...click on link below

Major sunday morning brain activity!

Currently reading: The sorrows of Young Werther (By Goethe)

Women, sex and ancestors

Postcard to my Mother

visit...

Life as dream

I is someone else

Planning for Travels in Chile

A case of Bouffée délirante

The World is my Oyster...

Happy 65th birthday Freddy!

Isabels birthday pics: Return of the Crazies - part uno

The church of Modernity.

What I can see today

Mobile blogging from my new 'Samsung Galaxy S2' smartphone

Please visit my alter-ego at my new blog (click on link below)

Currently reading: Open City (By Teju Cole)

The Best Gringo's Guide to South America ever!

Caught by the Travel Bug...in South America

Saturday Picnic - Regents Park

London's Burning! London's Burning!

Sunday despatches from a Man Alive

Words

Coming soon...Wedding - The Pics

Asian Wedding - A Review!

To go or not to go....that is the question

The art of Life

How to grow up & other thoughts

Friday Night Pics - Restaurant Momo

The Tree Of Life

Men with moustaches

Tourist spotting

World of Make-Believe

Poetry Pill - (past favourites)

Mr Lookatme

M e m o r y C e l l

The return of the crazies

On clear-seeing

Life, The Universe & Everything

People always ask me...

Edinburgh

The Art of Foto-Grafie

Why I write

The Return of the Crazies...

Coming soon...Levant - The Images

London Night Life (series 1)

Clare's Birthday Lunch Pix

Coming soon...Adventures in Firenze!

The Amazon Kindle - Some more thoughts...

The Amazon Kindle (Generation 3) - Some Thoughts of Mine

The perfect camera - a personal view

Ah! It's Spring

God and Disaster

Some images from Friday night...Location: French restaurant called 'La Ratatouille' off Baker Street

Sunday lunch...

Panasonic Lumix GH2 + Voigtlander 25mm 0.95

Sunday...in pictures - (taken with the Panasonic GH2 + Voigtlander Nokton 25mm 0.95 lens)

Today...in pictures - (taken with Panasonic GH2 + 25mm 0.95 Voigtlander)

Why it must be...Saturday morning!

And now for something cool...

Fashion, dress sense & my cool new navy-blue blazer

the joy of looking out of windows

Valentine's day treat number 3 : The Lie that is Love

Valentine's day treat number 2 : 'I Hate Valentines Day'

Valentine's day treat number 1 : 'Mr Nobody and Miss Sunshine' (a modern fairytale)

The Vintage Vagabond - birthday post

The Greatest Invention Ever?

Who needs drugs when you've got imagination

Stop Begging Me!

***Message for my readers***

New Year Message for 2011 (and beyond...)

On Talent

Mince Pies, Christmas and Other irreverent thoughts

The Art of the Hoody: Farah Vintage Duffel Coat

Movie review : Of Gods And Men

A crazy little thing called life

Message for my readers