I was just pottering about on Amazon, looking at Peter Ashley’s Unmitigated England books (the books of the marvellous blog), when I noticed one of the recommendations was Christopher Winn’s I Never Knew That About London. Which I initially read as I Never Knew About That London... Speaking of which, we will be up in That London this weekend. Check my Unpopular Twitterings for our whereabouts and opportunities for beer and/or coffee and stimulating conversation. (please note, stimulating conversation may not actually be possible, depending on degree of beer/caffeine consumption).
So Snow Leopard appears on Friday. I’ll be in London, so will I be camped outside the Apple store waiting for the release? Well, no, but I might be tempted to drop in on Saturday to pick up a copy, despite the fact that we will no doubt get our free licences at school in the next couple of weeks... The one thing that I am most looking forward to is the support for Exchange, which should mean that I can ditch Microsoft software for good. No more juggling between Mail, iCal and Entourage. Hopefully... If it all works as expected. I also finally stopped using Word recently too - fed up with the seemingly unfixable trait of dumping a ton of crappy formatting code into my blog posts. So it’s Pages ahoy. I especially like that ‘full screen mode’ in Pages. Keeps away all the distraction of other things on the screen so it’s just you and the words. Kind of reminds me of typing on a manual typewriter, which I guess is the whole point.
Sorry, this has been a really crappy post, hasn’t it? You can blame the fact that I’m listening to The House Of Love for the first time in many years... I remember the album with a vague fondness (from, when was that, 1988?) but so far it’s doing very little for me now. I have The House Of Love and Isn’t Anything inextricably linked in my head. Seems to me that one of those records has aged immeasurably better than the other. Oh, and McGee’s ‘sleevenotes’ for The House Of Love are almost hilariously dreadful. Notice I said ‘almost’ hilariously...
When, eventually, we get some new/old bookshelves for The Garden Room, I have a feeling that we may decide to have a small cull of the book collection. This blog post gives some excellent success criteria for a successful purge. Maybe I should adapt the criteria for CDs, as it seems to me that I’ve come across a whole lot of discs during my recent epic ripping adventure that I’ve been close to throwing in the ‘charity shop’ pile.
My mom reads my blog. Isn’t that great? I think it’s great. No, really, I do. I mean, a blog isn’t a diary anyway, so it’s not like it’s Lindsey’ parents sneaking into her room in Freaks and Geeks to read her private teenage thoughts and feelings, is it? Sometimes though my mom feels the need to apologise for reading, and sometimes I apologise back for my occasionally colourful language. It seems like a fair trade.
Now, much as I think it’s great that my mom can keep up with what I’m dithering about doing via this blog and Twitter and Flickr and whatnot, there are times when I hate the Interweb with a passion. Times when it all just feels too much. Too many connections. Too much information. It can make you feel lonely as hell. Mostly though it’s terrific. All that story-telling. All the news that’s fit to sing. Ideas running around barefoot and drawing pictures in the sand. Making it up as you go along. Leaving signs and ciphers. Nods and winks.
I was just writing about this in an email, in response to a blog post about those very ideas. That idea of constructing an identity through status updates and online playlists – the apparently contradictory fear of expressing ‘real’ emotions and feelings to people in private and yet simultaneously expressing those feelings in a hyper-mediated manner in public. And also being utterly knowing about that contradiction; indeed embracing the very conflict as part of the deal and knowing it is something to be played with. Also, there is something about the public / private interface that’s intriguing. Those nods and winks going out into the public sphere, missing their mark and being misinterpreted.
Because, you know, sometimes a mix tape is just a mix tape. Sometimes a status update is just a status update. Sometimes a line from a song is just a line from a song.
The tenth issue of Your Heart Out is now available to download for free. Affectionately known by the codename: Folklore. That's folklore as in the study of traditional beliefs or at least beliefs popularly held. That's folklore as in new perspectives, invectives and necessary mischief. Or to put it in more conventional terms, the new issue features Postcard's last stand, UK hip hop's winning hand, folk, blues, bossa and beyond ...
In a climate where culturally the shutters have come down, and accepted truths remain accepted truths, hopefully YHO has a role to play in shaking things up a little. So please spread the word, before they run us in.
I can’t say I’m a
great Elmore Leonard fan, but his ten rules of writing (as linked to by ET this
morning) are quite compelling and entertaining. I’ll be flicking back to those
when I embark on my NaNoWriMo effort in a couple of months. It also occurred to
me whilst in the bookstore this morning that James Sallis has surely written
some kind of similar ‘rules’ for writing. There is nothing more than an obscure
memory that suggests this, which inevitably means he has probably written no
such thing, but what the hell. I just felt it suddenly necessary to remember
James Sallis. His sole tome on the ‘crime’ shelves (the extraordinarily fine
‘Ghost Of A Flea’) looked quite forlorn this morning and I was sorely tempted
to buy it regardless of the fact that I have it already. I often get that
impulse in bookstores; the urge to ‘rescue’ favourites from the shelves. Used
to get it occasionally in record stores too, but I can’t even remember the last
time I was in a real record store, which probably says a lot about how times
change and all that. In fact I’m sorely tempted to dig out all of Sallis’ Lew
Griffin novels and give them another spin. They were superb pieces of writing,
Also on the moor were the obligatory ponies. You can just see Haytor in the distance. At least I THINK that's Haytor... This little dude was very friendly. I apologised for having no apples or sugar cubes in my jersey pockets, but he let me stroke his lttle nose regardless. Bless.