Updates progress: From July 2004 to August 2005 complete
Last update: Mr. PoBoys New Orleans Radio Station – Jambalaya Jam
Another one of those movies that Apple’s built in software for Photos creates for you. This one takes photos and video clips from a trip to County Clare and the infamous Craggy Island.
Enjoy!
Confined by the restrictions of zero-covid what better way to escape to than to The Culture?
The Hydrogen sonata is a version of the Hero’s Quest where the protagonist goes on a quest to find something, which in the end doesn’t matter, What does matter is what she found out about herself.
Set against the background of a civilisation on the brink of enfolding to the Sublime. The protagonist and some ship minds endeavour to find out some truths fundamental to the development of the Gzilt – will this knowledge prevent their sublimation?
Use vanilla essence top with chocolate fondant icing, sprinkles or icing sugar
More updates from the archives (2005 to 2006)
Including links to:
Feb. 1, 2022 – Jan.21, 2023 is a year of the water tiger （水虎）
Water Tigers have an innate ability to learn something new, and they are especially professional in the fields of art and handicrafts.
They have a strong sense of self-esteem and seldom accept advice from others. They only have a slim chance of failing in their careers, which often incurs envy from others.
Water Tigers will achieve more in their careers by getting help from their friends and lovers. They should be very careful and thoughtful when making big decisions and dealing with any emergencies in life, and should not trust others readily or they will suffer because of it.
If you’re interested in this sort of thing then go here for more horoscope info.
T’lorem ipsum, by eck that sounds reet queer Tha don’t get owt for nowt ‘appen as maybe tha knows Th’art nesh thee nay lad soft lad wacken thi sen up t’foot o’ our stairs. Nay lad where’s tha bin. Th’art nesh thee a pint ‘o mild any rooad t’foot o’ our stairs. Where there’s muck there’s brass t’foot o’ our stairs ah’ll gi’ thee a thick ear. Ah’ll learn thi tintintin tell thi summat for nowt soft lad mardy bum. Chuffin’ nora ah’ll box thi ears soft lad ee by gum tell thi summat for nowt ah’ll gi’ thee a thick ear. Bobbar nay lad. Breadcake soft southern pansy wacken thi sen up. Be reet where’s tha bin mardy bum mardy bum. Tell thi summat for nowt where there’s muck there’s brass shu’ thi gob. Dahn t’coil oil. That’s champion ey up will ‘e ‘eckerslike shurrup by ‘eck. Eeh. Shu’ thi gob face like a slapped arse god’s own county soft lad th’art nesh thee tha daft apeth.
Ne’ermind soft lad th’art nesh thee gi’ o’er ah’ll box thi ears shurrup. Ginnel snicket Tha knows wacken thi sen up cack-handed nay lad gi’ o’er ne’ermind. Ee by gum. Tintintin ah’ll box thi ears aye tha what ne’ermind big girl’s blouse. Nay lad tintintin face like a slapped arse what’s that when it’s at ooam. Michael palin ah’ll gi’ thee a thick ear. By ‘eck that’s champion mardy bum mardy bum t’foot o’ our stairs appens as maybe. Will ‘e ‘eckerslike. Big girl’s blouse nay lad tha knows. Eeh ah’ll gi’ thee a thick ear. Where there’s muck there’s brass. Shurrup where there’s muck there’s brass. Aye. T’foot o’ our stairs cack-handed where’s tha bin. Soft lad.
Nobbut a lad big girl’s blouse nay lad is that thine shurrup. By ‘eck th’art nesh thee shu’ thi gob. Bloomin’ ‘eck nay lad tintintin god’s own county. Chuffin’ nora breadcake nobbut a lad shu’ thi gob. How much that’s champion how much shu’ thi gob. Sup wi’ ‘im bobbar shurrup where there’s muck there’s brass. Shu’ thi gob bobbar. Ah’ll learn thi god’s own county where’s tha bin. Bloomin’ ‘eck ne’ermind. Dahn t’coil oil th’art nesh thee that’s champion wacken thi sen up ah’ll gi’ thee a thick ear. Bobbar ee by gum is that thine. Cack-handed. Soft lad ey up big girl’s blouse nay lad that’s champion.
Gerritetten ey up tha what. Aye mardy bum aye. Bloomin’ ‘eck ah’ll gi’ thi summat to rooer abaht ah’ll box thi ears is that thine ee by gum th’art nesh thee. Ey up ah’ll gi’ thee a thick ear chuffin’ nora nah then th’art nesh thee dahn t’coil oil. God’s own county wacken thi sen up. God’s own county ne’ermind. T’foot o’ our stairs bobbar wacken thi sen up by ‘eck tha daft apeth. Mardy bum eeh soft lad sup wi’ ‘im. Aye bobbar where there’s muck there’s brass tha what. Will ‘e ‘eckerslike. God’s own county soft southern pansy by ‘eck nobbut a lad what’s that when it’s at ooam chuffin’ nora. Tha knows.
Geoffrey Boycott tell thi summat for nowt aye tintintin breadcake. God’s own county what’s that when it’s at ooam big girl’s blouse how much chuffin’ nora. Cack-handed god’s own county mardy bum shurrup. Appens as maybe. That’s champion tha knows ah’ll gi’ thee a thick ear nay lad chuffin’ nora ah’ll gi’ thi summat to rooer abaht.
Any rooad cack-handed be reet nay lad soft lad ah’ll gi’ thee a thick ear. Tha knows ah’ll gi’ thee a thick ear ah’ll gi’ thi summat to rooer abaht ne’ermind where there’s muck there’s brass th’art nesh thee. Tintintin be reet. Sup wi’ ‘im god’s own county. Soft southern pansy ah’ll box thi ears cack-handed. Tha what ah’ll box thi ears by ‘eck will ‘e ‘eckerslike how much. Dahn t’coil oil dahn t’coil oil what’s that when it’s at ooam that’s champion. T’foot o’ our stairs ah’ll gi’ thi summat to rooer abaht t’foot o’ our stairs Alan Bennett how much what’s that when it’s at ‘oam
dúchas.ie, The Schools’ Collection, Co. Roscommon
A treasure trove of old school books lovingly scanned and transcribed. The handwriting is superb and the insights fascinating.
“There are two fairy forts situated in my district. One is about a quarter of a mile from my house in a village known as Cloonarrow while the other is about three hundred yards east of my house.
The fairy fort situated about a quarter of a mile is of circular shape and is surrounded by trees. Fairies are supposed to abide in it and are said to appear after twelve o’clock a.m. In front of this fort a house was situated but now the owner of the house and of
the land in which the fort is situated is dead and the house has collapsed. There is no entrance hole to it.
The other fort situated a very short distance from my house is a circular little hill surrounded by trees. Neither is there an entrance hole to this fort. It is said that a woman dressed in white appeared to a man at this fort and accompanied him to a place known as the “Crooked Bush” where she disappeared.
Nobody ever dreams of tilling the land in which the forts are, neither do they cut the trees as it is said that anybody who touches those trees is sure to be unlucky.”
Using freely available online resources and my local knowledge I’m pretty sure this is the location of the Fairy Fort 300 yards East of the author’s home:
Fairy Forts are typically, but not exclusively circular archaeological sites. Often tumuli or hill forts, there are over 30,000 of them in Ireland.
See also: https://www.nolligan.ie/SU/?p=3504
A Fairy Song William Shakespeare Over hill, over dale, Thorough bush, thorough brier, Over park, over pale, Thorough flood, thorough fire! I do wander everywhere, Swifter than the moon's sphere; And I serve the Fairy Queen, To dew her orbs upon the green; The cowslips tall her pensioners be; In their gold coats spots you see; Those be rubies, fairy favours; In those freckles live their savours; I must go seek some dewdrops here, And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear.
The Chao Phraya is Thailand’s major river flowing 372 km from the confluence of the Ping and Nan rivers through Bangkok and into the Gulf of Thailand.
In Bangkok the Chap Phraya is a transport artery for a network of river buses, cross-river ferries, and water taxis. The river buses are cheap and are an excellent way for tourists to see Bangkok.
According to wikiyoyage the prices currently are around 30 Baht (roughly one US Dollar) and there are a confusingly large number of different boat lines:
The photograph was taken in November 2018.
APART FROM THE REVOLUTION Each drop of blood a rose shall be all sorrow shall be dust blown by breezes to the sea whose fingers thrust into the corners of restless night where creatures of the deep avoid the flashing harbour lights in search of endless sleep there were executions somebody had to pay apart from the revolution it’s another working day a million angels sing peasants eating cake wedding bells are ringing the room begins to shake the children free from measles all have healthy teeth and gums they live in the cathedrals and worship in the slums poverty and pollution have all swept away apart from the revolution it’s another working day
He also has a new book out which has received very good reviews. Could be a great Christmas gift.
The MV Plassey started its life as HMS Juliet, a naval trawler in the Royal Navy built at the beginning of WWII. during the war she took part in Operation Torch in 1942 and in the Mediterranean theatre. After the war she was converted into a merchant ship and sold to the British merchant service as the Peterjon. Later, in 1951 she was acquired by the Limerick Steamship Company and her name changed yet again to the MV Plassey (sometimes written as Plassy).
She operated around the coast of Ireland until 1960 when she was caught in a severe storm and ran aground on Finnis Rock, Inisheer, Aran Islands whilst carrying whiskey, stained glass and yarn. Luckily, the entire crew was saved. Two weeks later, a second storm washed her off the rock and drove her up the beach.
The Plassey is probably most famous for appearing in the opening credits of the TV comedy Father Ted.
Photo taken July 2019
The Photos app that comes bundled with MacOs periodically produces slideshows. Normally, these are themed around places or dates. One caught my eye though – it was called ‘Golden Hour’ and included photos I’d taken from many places. Usually, photos taken around sunset are better because the quality of light is better.
Sunsets from
Unfortunately, there is no easy way to export it so it could be edited. I had to re-create it manually using iMovie. This is the result I call it Global Golden Hour: Sunsets around the world.
The soundtrack is “In Memory of a Free Festival Part 2” by David Bowie which I thought was appropriate. All rights remain with the original artist blah, blah blah, no profit is being made, blah blah, fair use, blah blah.
Click here to open in a new browser window
平顶山, 锡林郭勒盟，内蒙古
Pingdingshan in Xilingol League in Inner Mongolia has a very distinctive landscape. There are many extinct volcanoes from a time when this was the sea floor. This photo was taken in early October and the lush green grasslands had already faded to their winter brown. Even so you can see a flock of sheep in the foreground.
The interactive map is a new feature which I’ll maybe use again now that I know how to do it.
For tourist info click here
The Cliffs of Moher in County Clare attrac up to 1.5 million tourists a year.
Rising to a height of 214 meters they stretch for 14 kilometres. They are made up of sandstone and shale formin distinctive layers as can be seen in the photo.
The award winning visitor centre is dug into the hillside so it doesn’t detract from the scenery.
Alternatively take a virtual tour:
This photograph was taken in July 2019.
Just to prove that I haven’t been idle, here are a random selection of some of the pages from 2004 and January 2005 that I’ve updated, fixed and added to.
Enjoy!
You can find them using the Updated 2021 category.
Very slowly updating the site.
Can we fix it?
Er, probably not but I’ll give it a go.
It’s going to take time, there are over 1,300 posts going back 17 years.
Each needs to be checked and then updated to have a remote chance of being noticed by search engines.
Broken links from defunct sites are (mostly) being restored using wayback machine/ archive.org links.
Update Progress:
| Church Going by Philip Larkin (1922-1985) Once I am sure there’s nothing going on I step inside, letting the door thud shut. Another church: matting, seats, and stone, And little books; sprawlings of flowers, cut For Sunday, brownish now; some brass and stuff Up at the holy end; the small neat organ; And a tense, musty, unignorable silence, Brewed God knows how long. Hatless, I take off My cycle-clips in awkward reverence, Move forward, run my hand around the font. From where I stand, the roof looks almost new- Cleaned or restored? Someone would know: I don’t. Mounting the lectern, I peruse a few Hectoring large-scale verses, and pronounce “Here endeth” much more loudly than I’d meant. The echoes snigger briefly. Back at the door I sign the book, donate an Irish sixpence, Reflect the place was not worth stopping for. Yet stop I did: in fact I often do, And always end much at a loss like this, Wondering what to look for; wondering, too, When churches fall completely out of use What we shall turn them into, if we shall keep A few cathedrals chronically on show, Their parchment, plate, and pyx in locked cases, And let the rest rent-free to rain and sheep. Shall we avoid them as unlucky places? Or, after dark, will dubious women come To make their children touch a particular stone; Pick simples for a cancer; or on some Advised night see walking a dead one? Power of some sort or other will go on In games, in riddles, seemingly at random; But superstition, like belief, must die, And what remains when disbelief has gone? Grass, weedy pavement, brambles, buttress, sky, A shape less recognizable each week, A purpose more obscure. I wonder who Will be the last, the very last, to seek This place for what it was; one of the crew That tap and jot and know what rood-lofts were? Some ruin-bibber, randy for antique, Or Christmas-addict, counting on a whiff Of gown-and-bands and organ-pipes and myrrh? Or will he be my representative, Bored, uninformed, knowing the ghostly silt Dispersed, yet tending to this cross of ground Through suburb scrub because it held unspilt So long and equably what since is found Only in separation – marriage, and birth, And death, and thoughts of these – for whom was built This special shell? For, though I’ve no idea What this accoutred frowsty barn is worth, It pleases me to stand in silence here; A serious house on serious earth it is, In whose blent air all our compulsions meet, Are recognised, and robed as destinies. And that much never can be obsolete, Since someone will forever be surprising A hunger in himself to be more serious, And gravitating with it to this ground, Which, he once heard, was proper to grow wise in, If only that so many dead lie round. |
A very nice house in the country… it’s a long way away, but it’s mine.
Pendulum
About:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pendulum_(Australian_band)
Official website:
Nestled between the Yan mountain and the coast near Qinhuangdao, Hebei Province.
Beijing Language & Culture University campus, April 2021
Beijing Language and Culture University is one of the oldest Universities to offer instruction in English. Nowadays it caters to many foreign students wishing to learn Mandarin.
“I am Dionysus, the child of Zeus, and I have come to this land of the Thebans, where Cadmus’ daughter Semele once bore me, delivered by a lightning-blast. Having assumed a mortal form in place of my divine one,”
The Bacchae by Euripides
“Art and religion, carnivals and saturnalia, dancing and listening to oratory – all these have served, in H. G. Wells’s phrase, as Doors in the Wall.”
― Aldous Huxley, The Doors of Perception
Ride a cock-horse to Banbury Cross,
To see a fine lady upon a white horse;
Rings on her fingers and bells on her toes,
And she shall have music wherever she goes.
The origins of this rhyme are uncertain.
Banbury used to have several crosses: the High Cross, the Bread Cross and the White Cross until they offended puritan sensibilities and were destroyed around 1600.
The present cross dates from 1859 to commemorate the wedding of Victoria, the Princess Royal , to Frederick of Prussia whose coat of arms were blocked out during World War 1.
So removing and defacing statues by those gifted with moral certainty is nothing new.
Widely seen Chinese Covid poster:
人 rén – person
丛 cóng – a collection or group
众 – zhòng – a multitude or crowd
Chinese covid poster 2020/21 Beijing
There is a tradition of health posters as we can see:
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieve it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Dylan Thomas
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Do_not_go_gentle_into_that_good_night
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sacred_Heart_Cathedral_(Jinan)
Once in a lifetime by the Talking Heads re-imagined
and you might ask yourself, “Well, how did I get here…?”
and by Talking Heads I don’t mean Alan Bennett
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harbin_International_Ice_and_Snow_Sculpture_Festival
Well, I stand up next to a mountain
Chop it down with the edge of my hand
Well, I pick up all the pieces and make an island
Might even raise just a little sand
Whether Hendrix did actually visit Annapurna is moot , but it’s a nice story.
