8th November 2011: the skittles solution

The skittles solution to the motivation problem.  Also on show: the compulsive urge to organise things by colour.

At this stage I was probably more terrified by the upcoming exam than I have ever been by any life hurdle.  Happy days.

 

 

7th November 2011: work work work

 

 

The reason why hardly anything got posted last week: work, work, work.  Preparation for what might, if I have passed it, be my last exam ever (we can always hope).  Distraction in the form of a shiny new laptop and a bag of sweets.

 

 

6th November 2011: dressing gown collection

 

A couple of months ago I decided to start a dressing gown collection.  Currently space is a bit limited, so I’m not going to expand beyond four for a bit: a Japanese cotton house robe, a purple peacock decorated gown from Thailand, a Chinese silk jacket and (not shown here) a long plain black and white Marks and Sparks robe.  All so far a bit thin, but therefore portable.  When I’ve got more space I’d like to get at least one thicker gown for snuggling on the sofa in.

There’s something delightfully decadent about flopping round the house in a pretty gown when you don’t have to get up in a hurry.

 

5th November 2011: gas powered poker

 

There is something deeply satisfying about the gas poker.  To light it you need one hand to hold the poker, one to hold the match and one to turn the gas tap – which gives any individual the chance for an interesting juggling bout.  The poker itself is robust and safe (I should add that every member of the household recognises the smell of gas and exercises a fair amount of caution about this) and it completely does away with the need for kindling.

Near the hearth would be an excellent place to start a zombie film.  The ordinary poker, not to mention the little trifork and the old bayonet, would all make useful weapons/tools.  The gas poker even more so, though unfortunately you would not be able to stand up to wield it so its otherwise awesome utility is sadly limited.

 

4th November 2011: St Pauls, Occupied

So, your faithful reporter spent her Friday evening visiting the St Paul’s camp, otherwise known as #occupylsx, and taking in the convivial atmosphere.  As you can see, Mr. Moneybags is having a financial crisis of his own on this outsized Monopoly board.

General comments first: the tent city is smaller than it looks on the news.  Everything is very neat and tidy (no litter anywhere, unless you count the rather artistic poster displays on nearby pillars).  Contrary to rumour, hygiene in the camp appears to be excellent.  I’ve seen far more disgusting portaloos at family festivals.  The crowd was fairly thin, as expected for early Friday evening, and a high proportion of it was sporting dreadlocks.

The camp is barely visible as you come up Ludgate Hill, though you can see a cluster of people on the steps:

Closer to, it is hard to see why anyone might think of this as an eyesore (unless perhaps it’s the unfortunate prominence of the portaloos):

(Sorry for the blurry/grainy quality of the photos – the camera on my phone struggles a bit at night.)

We walked towards the nearest tent (helpfully marked ‘info’) looking curious, and almost at once were handed a leaflet by a helpful woman who plunged into a longish explanation of what was going on.  She had been to some lectures at Tent City University in the camp and was very animated about tax injustice (big corporations avoiding taxes) and about the lack of connection people feel to politics and democracy.  The words came flooding out, and some of her thoughts did not exactly chime with mine (for example, that women should be involved in running more of the world because women are more naturally nurturing and will therefore prevent wars), but the general effect was welcoming and helpful.

The information tent had a daily schedule outside it:

It is hard not to smile at the ‘lawful rebellion workshop – meet @ starbucks’, but it’s also a good indication of how organised this protest is.  Tent City University also had an information board:

I might attend at least three of these events out of interest on a normal day (but then again, I go on romantic dates to listen to lectures on political theory, so am possibly not the best judge of such things).

There is also a library decorated by someone with a sense of humour:

Living in the camp seemed less and less of a hardship the longer we looked around.  The earliest thing on the schedule doesn’t start until 10am, so you get a good long lie in.  There is no shortage of intellectual pursuits, artistic or political, and dozens of people around to chat with.  If you get sick of the whole thing you could always hide in a tent with a book.  As long as the weather stays relatively warm and you have enough food/drink/personal hygiene to keep you going, it sounds quite pleasant really.

When we arrived the loose crowd sitting on the steps of St Pauls was listening to a live poetry recital:

This was followed by someone with a guitar who sang a number of songs ranging from Christian worship to cheesy protest music – all his own composition.  Behind us one enthusiastic heckler was attempting to liven up the concert but was being generally ignored. My friend and I took the time to read the ‘Initial Statement’ we had been given earlier.

Couple of points of interest: nowhere in this document does it mention hating capitalism, or wanting to get rid of capitalism.  True, there is a point about authentic global equality and giving resources to the poorest people on the planet, and there is one about ‘refusing to pay for the banks’ crisis’, but most of these concerns are political.  Unfortunately (probably because of the nature of the list, which is the result of a process of voting and group composition) few of these statements are positive suggestions, and many of them are broad and would not be easy to pin down to a course of action.  I don’t mean to say they shouldn’t be written as they are – sometimes there’s a real need for a broad brush to get the point across – but the one that looks most useful in a practical sense at the moment is “we want regulators to be genuinely independent of the industries they regulate”.  It’s not a catchy slogan for a sign, but it is a clear and sensible suggestion about a way to improve the system.

As the statement is a work in progress, it may well have already changed since Friday.  It seems a bit disingenuous on the part of the news media to say that the protestors have no clear message when they’ve clearly gone to great lengths to provide one.  Although perhaps the problem is that they have no clear message that fits on a single placard to make a good photo for the front page?

We also spotted the tent stronghold of Anonymous, most of whose members had their masks pushed up which kind of defeats the point of anonymity.

They were boiling billy cans for their supper, and we were about due for ours.  The general meeting that we were told was starting in a few minutes manifestly hadn’t, and I’m afraid hunger got the better of the pair of us at this point.  As we were leaving, we spotted one more sign.

I am glad that St Pauls is now supporting the protesters, and got a nice warm glow from ‘double peaceful’.

I’d highly recommend going up to the camp and looking around it, if you’re interested.  The general impression we had is that these are pleasant people who care a lot about the problems they see in our current government and society.  The little community they’ve set up is clean and friendly and unexpectedly erudite.  I’m not sure that most of their ideas will scale to a national level, but that doesn’t make the issues that are being raised unimportant.

3rd November 2011: soldiers at Victoria

 

Unexpected military men! Raising money for an excellent cause, and incidentally decorating the concourse of Victoria station.  As I took this photo there was a chap in full Scottish military regalia playing the bagpipes over to my right. I wonder if they will be there again today?

 

 

 

2nd November 2011: arriving lights

 

Now that the clocks have changed, a lot of these photos are going to be in the dark. At least it’s light for the two hours between waking up and arriving at work.  Anyway, the evenings are full of moments like this one: waiting at the station, peering hopefully along the track.  Then a tiny glimmer of light appears in the distance, and grows brighter, outlining the curve of the rails.  At last the lights themselves appear, glaring but tiny, and grow steadily larger.  There is time to wonder why one of the three seems to be so much brighter than any of the others.  Then the train arrives, rolling past in a rattle of colour and light.

G.K. Chesterton once wrote that the big London stations were the cathedrals of his modern age (this would be the late C19th, early C20th).  Massive marvels of engineering, with distant glass roofs and wide open spaces letting the light slant through the thick clouds of steam rather then incense.  The steam might be gone, but the machines dispensing chocolate are still there, as are the book stands selling a combination of ‘penny dreadfuls’, or our equivalent thrillers, and books on how to be a success.  Chesterton is scathing on the subject of books teaching the reader how to succeed, and describes several.  The scientific theory version, the ‘admire the captains of industry’ version (in his day about Carnegie, in ours Warren Buffett), the ‘How Napoleon Became Great’ type.  I’m not sure what the modern equivalent of that last one would be, and I’m not sure what the equivalent ‘cathedrals’ of the early C21st are disguised as.  Shopping centres? Glass and chrome office blocks?

 

 

 

 

1st November 2011: button up

 

It’s definitely coat wearing time again, and I have a beautiful coat.  Long, close-fitting, military green with a double row of brass-effect buttons down the front.  It’s both warm and (especially when matched with smart black boots) makes the wearer feel like a Prussian cavalry officer.  Bonus!

The only downside is that those buttons are not the most firmly attached creatures in the universe.  They are unconventional, and independent, and frequently break free to explore new territory.  Fortunately they make a bright, metallic pinging sound as they skitter off along the ground, and so far I’ve always been able to recover them. A regular quarter of an hour spent sewing is a small price to pay for looking this good.

31st October 2011: particle physics on the tube

I can still remember the early days of the Metro.  The happy time when the headline, likely as not, screamed “APE-MAN TERRORISES DELHI”.* Things have definitely changed, as you can see: I can brush up on my particle physics on the way to work.  It’s presented as far as possible in bubbly, pun-heavy newspaper-speak, but this page is actually pretty informative.  I’m not qualified to say how accurate it is, but it chimes in fairly well with the sort of thing BBC documentaries and Wikipedia say about sub-atomic particles.

Science feature writer, I salute you.

*This is a hazy memory, but I think they had a blurry photo, and it was a real urban panic a la Springheeled Jack.

30th October 2011: lego games

Lego Star Wars: disturbingly addictive.