Jon Curnow writes on curnow.org about things that interest him. The site has been around for many years in various forms and he always wants to write much more here than he does.
Well, I’ll eat my words (as well as much of the food). It was marvellous, although I doubt I will convert.
I went to a barbecue today which is no amazing thing (although spelling barbecue is, for some reason, one of those words that I should not even attempt to spell).
Our hosts had a gas-barbecue (something I have always been very skeptical of – it’s not real barbecue cooking is it?). Well, I’ll eat my words (as well as much of the food). It was marvellous, although I doubt I will convert. There is something strangely masculine about fighting with coals rather than turning the gas on.
I suspect my life in turning into a bad episode of an Australian soap-opera for I am constantly saying we should have a barbecue. I am becoming obsessed. Yesterday it was kebabs on the barbie. Today, burgers. Or is it just a sign of summer? G’day.
Sometimes, I find the web addictive. I should be doing something else. I want to talk about this but I’ll let Metafilter do the job. Saves me typing on a Saturday.
For those who don’t want to click:
The World Summit on Sustainable Development, aka “Earth Summit II,” will start soon in Johannesburg, ten years after the Rio Earth Summit. Have things improved at all in the last ten years? [Metafilter].
I have been thinking some more about this whole blogging lark. I have always said that the most fascinating part of the online community has been personal homepages. They drawn me in like some crazed stalker. However, you put it there for me to read so, perhaps, stalker is not the appropriate term (I mean how many people invite stalkers?). Still, read them I do. So, I was interested in the book We’ve Got Blog. Now, here is a handy link to some of the books contents.
There are many fictional coming-out tales to choose from, so why this read Lennons?
Firstly, there aren’t that many set in contemporary Dublin. Secondly, there are not too many told with the humour and compassion of When Love Comes To Town. Finally, there are not that many that are such a good read.
Let me also be honest. There are few new takes on the coming-out dilemma, so don’t expect total originality.
Neil Byrne is a top class student who has realised he isn’t like all his coupled-up (straight) friends. The story takes us through Neil’s tentative steps into Dublin’s gay nightlife and his introduction to the characters of The Scene. Neil’s first love and family’s reaction are all covered and his confusion, pain, hopes & desires are well described.
The family’s response is not a model reaction, so don’t read this book if you are looking for a reassuring, positive take on the acceptance of loved ones to the news that one of their own is gay.
The book’s climax is certainly one of the more surprising aspects of the tale. In a dark moment Neil realises what he needs to do to survive the next few years of his life in an intolerant community. This ending results in a fine piece of writing that conveys the emotion of the final scene remarkably well and, I suspect, brings a lump to the throat of many readers.
Given a less positive ending than many similar books, I found this to be a refreshingly honest story. It is certainly a welcome addition to the genre.
If you believe the old-timers then the nation is becoming stupid. Perhaps not actually the nation but then a good proportion of the people are less intelligent than their counterparts in previous generations. Every media is dumbing down because we are all too thick to understand long words.
Well, thank goodness for yesterday’s Observer (second reference to it in a row).
I am a dolt. You are a poltroon. I am a fool, and you are an imbecile. We are, collectively, being British people in the summer of 2002, thicker than a whale omelette. I am dumb, and you are, astonishingly, dumber.
Jonathan Fenby wrote an excellent piece in today’s Observer (which thankfully I have found online and can link to) about the state of the British capital? I admit that I hoped Ken would help sort some of the mess this city is in. An integrated public transport system, clean and safer streets etc. I bought into the whole idea of new vision for London. But, as Fenby writes, “The snag is the man who should be providing it shows himself better at getting elected mayor than giving his city a new start.” Perhaps it is too much to hope that one man could change the attitudes of the society in this city. Many people just accept the way it is and perhaps, if most people are OK with the state of London, then this is the way it should be.
I know that I am talking very generally. What should I add to The Observer piece? London transport is over-crowded, dirty and smelly. When it runs it’s acceptable but when it doesn’t run then the whole system falls apart. Last week’s rain brought large chunks of the system to a halt. Rain, for goodness sake, it’s the one thing we know we are going to get here. Yesterday, I was stood on the Northern Line and there “there is no service” announcements must have gone on for ten minutes.
Ah, and I survived the party quite well – although I did feel a little rough this morning. It didn’t finish until gone two in the morning and ended with us watching old episodes of The Tube. Perhaps I should have left earlier.
Well, now I know that a champagne hangover isn’t very bad.
Or perhaps I took my own advice for I am feeling OK this morning. The night was good – lots of champagne (bought in advance during the Happy Hour) and only the two bottles of wine at the end were a bad sign (and there were a large number of us). Met a crazy woman with purple nails who kept telling me and PY that we were wonderful (she was, quite possibly, drunk) and handed my business card to her (possibly not the wisest move on in the world as she may be some kind of crazed stalker that tracks people down).
Still, another all-day party begins in Walthamstow at three this afternoon. Am I ready for more punishment?
I am off to a leaving party tonight in some swanky bar. I know that I shall drink too much and shall spoil the entire weekend for myself now. Unfortunately, I also know that there is nothing that I am going to do about it and so I will have to live with that. I think it’s an age thing. They always said you would increasingly become aware of own limits as your get old and I know mine. I also know that I am worse-than-awful at stopping when I have hit my limits – weather that’s drinking, staying awake etc. A weekend in a haze is predicted. On the upside, today has been a lovely, normal working day without too much stress and, for once, it looks like I am about to leave on time. Maybe that’s a good sign.
The pictures of cars almost submerged are strangely reminiscent of my home town of Shrewsbury
Last night was an underwater adventure for many Londoners. Apparently, 3cm of rain fell in 30 minutes – which is a reasonable amount of water. The strain on the drainage system was too great and we had cars underwater, closed tube stations and some very, very wet people walking around. Many people have a perception that London is grey and always raining but it doesn’t handle rain well at all. I guess it’s all the Victorian sewers (or whatever they are).
The pictures of cars almost submerged are strangely reminiscent of my home town of Shrewsbury – which is prone to flooding. The town is mainly contained within a loop of the River Severn and, as such, seems to get drowned from all sides in the winter storms and spring thaws.
I guess Shrewsbury is my home town. I was not born there, did not live there for the first fourteen years of my life, and have not lived there for ten years. My parents still live there and I go to see them occasionally and I think of it as my home town, but really, it’s just another place I have lived. Of course, I do have very fond memories of the place which, I assume, helps.
My review of the story of Boo – an interesting tale of a business with no financial controls.
I submitted another review to Amazon.co.uk today and I was quite pleased with it. Having just finished Boo Hoo (the story of online active streetwear retailer boo.com) I thought I would add another review to my small list. I was particularly fond of the last line: “Live hard, die young and leave a beautiful corpse” could almost have been written of Miss Boo. My full review submitted to Amazon.co.uk earlier today:
What a fascinating book. Take two Swedes, a desire to be “cool” and throw $135 million at them! Ernst Malmstens story of boo.com is a warning to all new enterprises everywhere: get some strong financial controls and make sure you stay in charge of your costs. Most of all, it tells us that there is no substitute for some experience when running a shop.
I was sceptical that Ernst et al. would hide behind others and not shoulder the blame. However, what comes through clearly is the founders vision, belief and desire to build a world class product as well as the managements failings when developing that business. It is possible to read much by what is not said, as well as what story is directly told and in that, an incredible tale unfolds before you.
The book is well written and highly addictive. As the inevitable end approaches it becomes one of those books you pick up all the time, even just to read the next two paragraphs. As a story it is thoroughly thought-out, well-paced and fascinating. As an insight into online business history it may be one-sided and sometimes lacking but it remains compulsive reading and a captivating look a never-to-be-repeated economic boom (and bust) time.
Boo.com became synonymous with the “live the high live, party hard” culture that many cash fuelled Internet start-ups went (and spent) through. “Live hard, die young and leave a beautiful corpse” could almost have been written of Miss Boo.
Did you know that today is Hiroshima Day? It seems to have missed me. I think this is something we should all be thinking about at this time.
While we appear to be on the verge of more war in the world, the good folks at today’s Daypop news point us to The Guardian:
Today is Hiroshima Day, the anniversary of the first use of a bomb so powerful that it would come to threaten the existence of the human race. Only two such devices have ever been used, but now, a decade after the end of the cold war, the world faces new dangers of nuclear attack – from India, Pakistan, Iraq, al-Qaida, and even the US. Launching a special investigation into nuclear weapons, Paul Tibbets, the man who piloted the Enola Gay on its mission to Japan, tells Studs Terkel why he has no regrets – and why he wouldn’t hesitate to use it again – [Guardian]
Did you know that today is Hiroshima Day? It seems to have missed me. I think this is something we should all be thinking about at this time.
The christening was yesterday. It was great – apart from the rain that soaked us as we walked to the church
The christening was yesterday. It was great – apart from the rain that soaked us as we walked to the church. Even though I did not understand a word of the ceremony (and there were two babies being christened and a confirmation) it’s still quite a thing to see all these people stand in front of a congregation and wet the babies head. Of course the party afterwards was good, meeting people that I had not seen since Cheryl & Thomas’ wedding some eleven years ago. It’s always great food. For some reason, I love Norwegian food (although some would say I just love food). The evening part was spent sitting on the patio as the sun set talking about old times and house-buying. Shame to be back really – although I would really love my bed right now.
I head off to the airport shortly. I spent a good proportion of last night packing and, therefore, seem to have only had three hours sleep. I really need to organise my life more to prevent this kind of thing from happening. I do not like the lack of sleep and yet, every time I travel, I seem to end up in this kind of situation.
Somehow, I seem to ignore the five golden rules of travelling without stress
Weekend plans. I am going to a christening, which in itself does not seem an odd thing to do at the weekend. I am, however, flying at 0630 tomorrow morning to Amsterdam, then to Stavanger and then on to Kristiansand, Norway. I arrive mid-afternoon. The christening is on Sunday. Come Monday morning, I board the 0700 for Copenhagen and then on to London to get me back to make it into my office mid-morning. There are several people who think I am, somehow, unbalanced in attempting to do this and stay awake.
The Guardian also lists The Angel of the North as the eighth wonder. I haven’t seen that either! If you’re interested, the others (that I have seen) are:
