|
Today... ...I shall be mostly in a truly rotten mood with society as a whole, including myself. Bah Humbug. Teach me to get out of bed so early (ok, so it was 11:15, but it sure felt early) I apologise in advance, or in retrospect, depending if I have or haven't annoyed you yet. Normal service will be resumed tomorrow. |
|
|
1.9.06 16:06 |
|
|
Until we meet again... How long I spent sat there is lost to me, time seemed to have been momentarily suspended, it seemed that I had been there days, and yet not more than a moment. After all, what is time when you're relaxed and happy? What is time when you have nowhere to be? I would be there every night, often at length, gazing out at the world. The motorway lay before me creeping right through the city centre, like an artery constantly a buzz with the flow traffic, even in the wee hours of the morning it was always alive with the glowing lights of passing cars, like constellations in an infinite variety of shapes. Beyond that, towards the horizon was the gloomy and brooding shadow of a new Foster designed building, like an Armadillo curled into its shell for protection from the imposing darkness around, by day it gleamed silver, yet by night was enveloped into the surrounding darkness. Beneath me, looking like a scale model that you could pluck out of the landscape and play with was the old church, looking forlorn yet not entirely surrendered, like a battle hardened soldier who has seen many wide eyed young things come and go, yet still holds his place and in a strange way despite lacking the polish or the transient beauty of youth retains a sense of gravitas in its position. To the left and right were other hotels, Anastasia and Drizella looking with curious eyes at the Cinderella that had risen betwixt them and stole their shine. Further away to the left the river ran, a dark ribbon through the lights of the night, dissected only by the motorway flyover. They say that New York is the city that never sleeps, but this place taught me that it's not alone, none of the worlds great cities ever sleep, they live instead in a state of flux, a constant transposition between the daily life of shops and coffee houses, offices and schools and the city lights at night, the evening traffic, the bars and the restaurants. The place never slept and never looked the same for two instances of time, it stretched out before me from my perch on the tenth floor an ever changing metropolis, it's urbanity a strange cocktail, simultaneously vulgar and yet beautiful and magical, a juxtaposition of the bad and good in humanity, human achievement and nature all bound up into a heaving mass of luxurious depth that seemed to be able to hold my attention endlessly. I had lots of good times in that city on varying trips for business and pleasure, but one of the most vivid memories is of the time idled away on a deep set windowsill on the tenth floor. I miss you, city, but I'll be back. |
|
|
1.9.06 23:34 |
|
|
Literary Round Up Ok, so as I am too lazy to change the currently reading pics on my sidebar, I figured I'd do a literary round up instead of the last two books, one of which never even got as far as the side bar, I really am very lazy. Caution, while I'll try not to reveal too much of the plot, there may be slight spoilers in it. War And Peace - Leo Tolstoy A Farewell to Arms - Ernest Hemmingway
|
|
|
5.9.06 14:52 |
|
|
iTunes Game... Ok, it's been a while since I played this game, so in the want of something to blog, 20 lyric snippets from twenty tracks chosen at random by my iTunes. Good luck, and not to much laughing at the back. 1) I heard dinner went well, You liked Chris's jacket, He reminded you of Johnny, Before he went Electronic |
|
|
6.9.06 16:22 |
|
Not Good Enough.![]() Not Good enough, Mr Blair. The time is now. How can he possibly continue in the midst of all of this backstabbing and infighting? How can he run the country when he can't even run the government? If any of the Labour government had any balls between them they'd deliver the coup d'grace and have it over with, but instead they will continue to create even more bitter rifts, while cabinet members who were previously solely in the Blair camp (Thats you, Mr Miliband & Mrs Kelly) are now kissing Mr Browns arse also. Wha a pathetic comedy of errors this government has become. Surely now, time is up for this guy, we all remember the war, we all remember foundation hospitals, student tuition fees, we all remember the times when out interests were sold down the line to the interests of the USA. Mr Blair has left his legacy, the only thing left to do is to have the good grace to call a general election when he stands down and let the people of this country choose their new primeminister. I hope the backstabbing continues until he does go, make it as painful as possible for Blair until he does the only decent thing left. Vive la révolution. |
|
|
7.9.06 15:27 |
|
|
The Pussycat Dolls. Everytime I hear one of their songs, I feel like I've heard it before. Are they actually just a cover band? Or is it that all the songs sound the same? This is going to sound silly, but, I still don't see why their popular. Is this worthy of a whole blog entry? No, probably not. |
|
|
7.9.06 17:08 |
|
|
He who lives by the Scot... ...dies by the Scot. |
|
|
7.9.06 22:35 |
|
[next page]
It seems like eon's ago I started this one, with Anna Pavlona's social, and it was a long haul, I'd be lying if I didn't say it felt like it too, I'm not very patient and like to finish books in a week or so, so this was a challenge. However, the story is very well written, and all of the main characters are developed in depth so you really get to know them and what drives them, the book is punctuated by events, many of them important moments in history, so you're never far from the action, and the plot flows well, sometimes flitting backwards in time by a month or two to catch up with events in one of the other key locations while he's been focusing in on the main characters. It was enjoyable, however I think that partly this was because I studied and am interested in Russian history, I think if Russia or Napoleonic History doesn't interest you it could get pretty boring. The novel itself was very good, however it was let down by the First Epilogue, which nearly made me give up. I wanted to read it as it was tying up loose ends with the characters, etc, but it was far too long for an epilogue, people like Fitzgrald would have fitted a fully entertaining story in the space of it, and Tolstoy, who was prone to philosophise a bit during the novel took this too far in his epilogue, esspecially with some of his Patriotic conclusions about the events of 1815, which in fairness were completed before the Tsar arrived in Belgium and thus it seemed as though the novels even handedness was marginally undermined by over stating the Tsar's position in 1815. That said, it's still a good read, but I think those who call it the best novel ever are getting carried away, its brilliant, but length which allows for the brilliance detracts from the ease of reading.
The first Hemmingway I've read, and I have to say I was surprised by the style of the book, which is written entirely in the first person. It's very fast paced and tells of Fredrick Henry, an American in the Italian army in world war one, it's a very ineteresting depiction on what sometimes seems the forgotten front in the first world war, and paints a vivid picture of the men living in that with the daily knowledge that they were in immense danger. As ciggie said in the comments to a previous thread, it is very much full of testosterone, but I found it worked well, being a novel about war and all, the plot was well driven and the main female character seemed to me to be more developed than the male, but that may be because the lead female, Catharine, reminded me of someone I know. (just don't tell them I said so) I liked the style of this book, esspecially coming on the back of something so in depth as War and Peace, the pace and the twists worked very well, although, as Huw will testify the last three or four pages are possibly the saddest moments in fiction ever. So much for the fairytale I thought it was becoming. Good read, but only if you don't mind sadness in a book.









