Well despite the initial scanning problems, I managed to sort it out. Happily though somebody emailed me a fully scanned version of the book. Yes, that's the blind underworld on the internet. By about 5pm saturday afternoon I had a fully scanned version ... and no doubt thousands of other blind people were sharing that same text too. When we get equal access to the same book at the same time at the same price, then we won't have to share books in this way. Illegal, yes. Do I care ... not if the publishers don't, no.
Interestingly the publishers allowed the book to be brailled and put into large print ready for saturday. The thing is, lots of blind people can't read braille: approx 12,000 in the UK. The figures tell us that there are approx 2 million visually impaired people in this country. Making it available in Braille and large print was definitely a step forward but isn't the way that the majority of blind people would read. Younger people would like electronic text (a word document or encoded document with the text in it) and everyone would like audio. Braille can be a real chore to read, I read braille approx 10 times slowers than a sightie reads print. NO maybe 20 or 30 times slower. It's not easy ... though some pick up the skill really well at a young age, I wasn't blind at a young age and nowadays tend to use braille for easy stuff like labeling CDs so I know what they are when I picked them up. I also read the TV times in braille, little else. Well to be honest there is very little to read anyway! Not the kind of thing that I would like to read anyway.
Back to Harry ...
I finished reading it a few minutes ago. Gosh, very dark. I won't give any spoilers out here but it was a bit shocking and I am kind of gutted by it all. Can't help but think that, now Harry Potter is a huge brand, the publishers are perhaps a little too scared to perform many edits on Rowling's work. I think it could have had a hundred less pages at least! That said, it's nice to remain in the wizarding universe for longer.
Sunday, July 17, 2005
Saturday, July 16, 2005
Harry Potter - scanned (only not)
OK. So I popped out at midnight to my local book store, bought Harry Potter and have been sitting here ever since trying to scan it in to my computer using my high tech 'isn''t this a good gadget for the blind' scan software.
I've tried different settings again and again but it seems this book is a nightmare to scan. Aarrgh.
So, fellow bloggers, here are pages 2 and 3 of Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince as scanned in by me. You'll see that they're pretty unreadable. How pissed off am I?
Harry Potter
zen cars into the watery depths of the river below. And how "ed anyone suggest that it was lack of policemen that had ulted in those two very nasty and well-publicised murders? that the government should have somehow foreseen the ak hurricane in the West Country that had caused so much mage to both people and property? And was it his fault that e of his Junior Ministers, Herbert Chorley, had chosen this ek to act so peculiarly that he was now going to be spend\ a lot more time with his family?
'A grim mood has gripped the country,' the opponent had ncluded, barely concealing his own broad grin. And unfortunately, this was perfectly true. The Prime nister felt it himself; people really did seem more miser- Le than usual. Even the weather was dismal; all this chilly st in the middle of July ... it wasn't right, it wasn't rmal ...
He turned over the second page of the memo, saw how ich longer it went on, and gave it up as a bad job. Stretchl his arms above his head he looked around his office )urnfully. It was a handsome room, with a fine marble fire- ice facing the long sash windows, firmly closed against the seasonable chill. With a slight shiver, the Prime Minister t up and moved over to the windows, looking out at the n mist that was pressing itself against the glass. It was then, he stood with his back to the room, that he heard a soft ugh behind him.
He froze, nose-to-nose with his own scared-looking reflecn in the dark glass. He knew that cough. He had heard it fore. He turned, very slowly, to face the empty room. 'Hello?' he said, trying to sound braver than he felt. For a brief moment he allowed himself the impossible pe that nobody would answer him. However, a voice ;ponded at once, a crisp, decisive voice that sounded as
The Other Minister 9
(hough it were reading a prepared statement. It was coming as the Prime Minister had known at the first cough — from I he froglike little man wearing a long silver wig who was depicted in a small and dirty oil-painting in the far corner of the room.
'To the Prime Minister of Muggles. Urgent we meet. Kindly respond immediately. Sincerely, Fudge.' The man in the painting looked enquiringly at the Prime Minister.
'Er,' said the Prime Minister, listen ... it's not a very good time for me ... I'm waiting for a telephone call, you see ... from the president of—'
That can be rearranged,' said the portrait at once. The Prime Minister's heart sank. He had been afraid of that.
'But I really was rather hoping to speak '
'We shall arrange for the president to forget to call. He will telephone tomorrow night instead,' said the little man. 'Kindly respond immediately to Mr Fudge.'
'I ... oh ... very well,' said the Prime Minister weakly. 'Yes, I'll see Fudge.'
He hurried back to his desk, straightening his tie as he went. He had barely resumed his seat, and arranged his face into what he hoped was a relaxed and unfazed expression, when bright green flames burst into life in the empty grate beneath his marble mantelpiece. He watched, trying not to betray a flicker of surprise or alarm, as a portly man appeared within the flames, spinning as fast as a top. Seconds later, he had climbed out on to a rather fine antique rug, brushing ash from the sleeves of his long pinstriped cloak, a lime-green bowler hat in his hand.
'Ah ... Prime Minister,' said Cornelius Fudge, striding forwards with his hand outstretched. 'Good to see you again.'
The Prime Minister could not honestly return this compliment, so said nothing at all. He was not remotely pleased to see
_H_
H
I've tried different settings again and again but it seems this book is a nightmare to scan. Aarrgh.
So, fellow bloggers, here are pages 2 and 3 of Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince as scanned in by me. You'll see that they're pretty unreadable. How pissed off am I?
Harry Potter
zen cars into the watery depths of the river below. And how "ed anyone suggest that it was lack of policemen that had ulted in those two very nasty and well-publicised murders? that the government should have somehow foreseen the ak hurricane in the West Country that had caused so much mage to both people and property? And was it his fault that e of his Junior Ministers, Herbert Chorley, had chosen this ek to act so peculiarly that he was now going to be spend\ a lot more time with his family?
'A grim mood has gripped the country,' the opponent had ncluded, barely concealing his own broad grin. And unfortunately, this was perfectly true. The Prime nister felt it himself; people really did seem more miser- Le than usual. Even the weather was dismal; all this chilly st in the middle of July ... it wasn't right, it wasn't rmal ...
He turned over the second page of the memo, saw how ich longer it went on, and gave it up as a bad job. Stretchl his arms above his head he looked around his office )urnfully. It was a handsome room, with a fine marble fire- ice facing the long sash windows, firmly closed against the seasonable chill. With a slight shiver, the Prime Minister t up and moved over to the windows, looking out at the n mist that was pressing itself against the glass. It was then, he stood with his back to the room, that he heard a soft ugh behind him.
He froze, nose-to-nose with his own scared-looking reflecn in the dark glass. He knew that cough. He had heard it fore. He turned, very slowly, to face the empty room. 'Hello?' he said, trying to sound braver than he felt. For a brief moment he allowed himself the impossible pe that nobody would answer him. However, a voice ;ponded at once, a crisp, decisive voice that sounded as
The Other Minister 9
(hough it were reading a prepared statement. It was coming as the Prime Minister had known at the first cough — from I he froglike little man wearing a long silver wig who was depicted in a small and dirty oil-painting in the far corner of the room.
'To the Prime Minister of Muggles. Urgent we meet. Kindly respond immediately. Sincerely, Fudge.' The man in the painting looked enquiringly at the Prime Minister.
'Er,' said the Prime Minister, listen ... it's not a very good time for me ... I'm waiting for a telephone call, you see ... from the president of—'
That can be rearranged,' said the portrait at once. The Prime Minister's heart sank. He had been afraid of that.
'But I really was rather hoping to speak '
'We shall arrange for the president to forget to call. He will telephone tomorrow night instead,' said the little man. 'Kindly respond immediately to Mr Fudge.'
'I ... oh ... very well,' said the Prime Minister weakly. 'Yes, I'll see Fudge.'
He hurried back to his desk, straightening his tie as he went. He had barely resumed his seat, and arranged his face into what he hoped was a relaxed and unfazed expression, when bright green flames burst into life in the empty grate beneath his marble mantelpiece. He watched, trying not to betray a flicker of surprise or alarm, as a portly man appeared within the flames, spinning as fast as a top. Seconds later, he had climbed out on to a rather fine antique rug, brushing ash from the sleeves of his long pinstriped cloak, a lime-green bowler hat in his hand.
'Ah ... Prime Minister,' said Cornelius Fudge, striding forwards with his hand outstretched. 'Good to see you again.'
The Prime Minister could not honestly return this compliment, so said nothing at all. He was not remotely pleased to see
_H_
H
Thursday, July 14, 2005
Tube post 7/7
I'm on annual leave this week. Hurrah! But a funny week to have time to spare in London. I don't really feel like going out and doing much ... and getting there on the bus or tube is a bit scary.
However, yesterday I broke my duck. I boarded a tube for the first time since the bombings. I felt really uncomfortable. I went down to Oxford Circus via Baker Street. These are two of the biggest tube stations in London but they weren't quite as full as usual.
On the tube train itself you could "cut the atmosphere with a knife" as they say. It felt very uncomfortable. I noticed things I don't normally notice.
* I noticed how small the tube carriages are really.
* I noticed the extremely long pauses between stations (somehow two or three times longer because I was willing my journey to end)
* I noticed the hums, creaks, buzzes and coughs, all of them.
As I understand it, everyone was looking each other up and down. It all seems a bit silly to look out for unattended baggage now we know that those involved in the bombing were suicide bombers.
Baker Street was particularly eery last night at rush hour - utterly silent, though there were lots and lots of people on the platform. The tube train was at least 5 minutes late but, even though the platform kept filling up minute by minute, no one talked, no one made noises.
I saw a newspaper headline on Google the other day calling London's bomb attacks the "7/7 attacks". Good in that it works properly both sides of the Atlantic this time ... but I didn't like naming these attacks after a date like 9/11 or 11/9. No one tried to call the Madrid bombings 11/3 or 3/11 did they? Something unpleasantly derivative about it. I feel odd writing that. I can't put it into words why I wouldn't want it to be called 7/7.
... and late last night I went out for a Mexican. Not all that nice food really. My week off has gotten me itno bad food ways - "it's my holiday god dammit" - and I'm feeling really unhealthy; the hot weather isn't helping.
However, yesterday I broke my duck. I boarded a tube for the first time since the bombings. I felt really uncomfortable. I went down to Oxford Circus via Baker Street. These are two of the biggest tube stations in London but they weren't quite as full as usual.
On the tube train itself you could "cut the atmosphere with a knife" as they say. It felt very uncomfortable. I noticed things I don't normally notice.
* I noticed how small the tube carriages are really.
* I noticed the extremely long pauses between stations (somehow two or three times longer because I was willing my journey to end)
* I noticed the hums, creaks, buzzes and coughs, all of them.
As I understand it, everyone was looking each other up and down. It all seems a bit silly to look out for unattended baggage now we know that those involved in the bombing were suicide bombers.
Baker Street was particularly eery last night at rush hour - utterly silent, though there were lots and lots of people on the platform. The tube train was at least 5 minutes late but, even though the platform kept filling up minute by minute, no one talked, no one made noises.
I saw a newspaper headline on Google the other day calling London's bomb attacks the "7/7 attacks". Good in that it works properly both sides of the Atlantic this time ... but I didn't like naming these attacks after a date like 9/11 or 11/9. No one tried to call the Madrid bombings 11/3 or 3/11 did they? Something unpleasantly derivative about it. I feel odd writing that. I can't put it into words why I wouldn't want it to be called 7/7.
... and late last night I went out for a Mexican. Not all that nice food really. My week off has gotten me itno bad food ways - "it's my holiday god dammit" - and I'm feeling really unhealthy; the hot weather isn't helping.
Monday, July 11, 2005
I've got some beansprouts and I'm gonna use 'em
... or I might.
I have two bags of beansprouts in my freezer. They are frozen. Solid state.
I love beansprouts.
I haven't ever frozen them before though. So what I need to know is ... when I defrost them, are they gonna be moosh?
This bothers me and I am abstaining from beansprouts until I have a satisfactory answer or guess.
I have two bags of beansprouts in my freezer. They are frozen. Solid state.
I love beansprouts.
I haven't ever frozen them before though. So what I need to know is ... when I defrost them, are they gonna be moosh?
This bothers me and I am abstaining from beansprouts until I have a satisfactory answer or guess.
Thursday, July 07, 2005
London Terror attack
I was coming in to work early in my cab this morning when LBC announced there had been some kind of explosion heard at Liverpool Street station. Little was made of it. The subsequent travel news revealed that London was in a bit of a state this morning anyway: lots of tube and rail closures / delays.
I got into work and put the TV on. Suddenly it all began to unfold. At first we were told that there had been a power surge in the tube system - however at the same time we were hearing stories from passengers that they'd seen flashes, they came out of the underground with soot all over them etc.
Even now at 1:32pm I'm a bit confused about it all. IT's bene a confusing day. I have been quite shaken sitting here watching the TV on my desk as the happenings rolled out. The bus bomb made it plain this was a terrorist attack happening not just some power outage incident that had blown up.
This will read weirdly if you read this after the the event and know all the details. But, even now, we don't know how many are dead (2 or 3 at the moment but likely to be more we hear) and I'm going to have real difficulty getting home. All cabs are going to be stuffed.
Oh Huw Edwards is telling me The Queen has released a statement: she's shocked and other stuff.
The whole tube system is shut down. The buses are now also completely closed down I believe ... though at first it was just in zone one (central) I hear it may have extended.
Oooh I wonder if peple will have to pay the congestion charge today? I betcha Nick Ferari will probably start blathering on about that tomorrow morning.
I'm feeling a little less shaken now and have lots of forms to fill in so I'd better get down to it. Laters. All I know and my loved ones are all safe.
I got into work and put the TV on. Suddenly it all began to unfold. At first we were told that there had been a power surge in the tube system - however at the same time we were hearing stories from passengers that they'd seen flashes, they came out of the underground with soot all over them etc.
Even now at 1:32pm I'm a bit confused about it all. IT's bene a confusing day. I have been quite shaken sitting here watching the TV on my desk as the happenings rolled out. The bus bomb made it plain this was a terrorist attack happening not just some power outage incident that had blown up.
This will read weirdly if you read this after the the event and know all the details. But, even now, we don't know how many are dead (2 or 3 at the moment but likely to be more we hear) and I'm going to have real difficulty getting home. All cabs are going to be stuffed.
Oh Huw Edwards is telling me The Queen has released a statement: she's shocked and other stuff.
The whole tube system is shut down. The buses are now also completely closed down I believe ... though at first it was just in zone one (central) I hear it may have extended.
Oooh I wonder if peple will have to pay the congestion charge today? I betcha Nick Ferari will probably start blathering on about that tomorrow morning.
I'm feeling a little less shaken now and have lots of forms to fill in so I'd better get down to it. Laters. All I know and my loved ones are all safe.
Monday, July 04, 2005
Friends Reunited and fuzzy feelings
A couple of days ago I logged on to Friends Reunited for the first time in about two years. I discovered two email messages waiting for me there on the site. One was from a pal who I last saw about ten years ago in Worcester. Fantastic, am really looking forward to meeting up with him.
The other, very much out of the blue and very much appreciated, was from a former teacher of mine from when I was an 8-year-old at primary school.
I'm going to reproduce the message below but will change her name for privacy reasons:
Damon,
This might come as a surprise. Does the name Mrs.Lamb ring any bells?
I'm actually Alma Dawlish now. My first husband died back in 1988 and I remarried and returned to live in the N.East of England where I was actually born
and bred. I expect you noticed my geordie accent. I now live near Durham. I'm retired and married to Anthony. We enjoy life by travelling,
walking, visiting our 5 children and various grandchildren. We read a lot, go to concerts. Anthony writes and paints and we are still waiting for the masterpiece
that will make us rich.
Damon, I followed your wave of publicity with interest and with a certain amount of pride. You were a great kid when I knew you and somehow I knew you would
never fit into any kind of mould.
I'd love to hear from you if you have a minute to spare.
Kindest regards,
Alma Dawlish.
Wow! Isn't that the most fantastic of emails to receive? I was so chuffed! A real blast from the past.
And so children, in conclusion, communications via the internet can also be as positive as they are negative (guess what I'm referring to).
I have now replied to my former teacher and am dying to hear back from her. The big worry here though is that she actually sent it last February, 2004. I only got it recently because I received an email from Friends Reunited saying: "we have two messages for you." Well dang me, I didn't even realise they stored messages on the site. I swear they didn't used to. Now it seems that the site has a kind of in-built email systeym.
Hands up who else would like to receive an email from the past like that? it makes you feel all warm, innit. I hope she's OK 18 months later and doesn't think I didn't want to mail back because I'm too big for all that now, or something. I'd hate to think she thought that.
Course, it now means I have a subscription to Friends Reunited and I wonder if I should start contacting old friends now? Scary!
The other, very much out of the blue and very much appreciated, was from a former teacher of mine from when I was an 8-year-old at primary school.
I'm going to reproduce the message below but will change her name for privacy reasons:
Damon,
This might come as a surprise. Does the name Mrs.Lamb ring any bells?
I'm actually Alma Dawlish now. My first husband died back in 1988 and I remarried and returned to live in the N.East of England where I was actually born
and bred. I expect you noticed my geordie accent. I now live near Durham. I'm retired and married to Anthony. We enjoy life by travelling,
walking, visiting our 5 children and various grandchildren. We read a lot, go to concerts. Anthony writes and paints and we are still waiting for the masterpiece
that will make us rich.
Damon, I followed your wave of publicity with interest and with a certain amount of pride. You were a great kid when I knew you and somehow I knew you would
never fit into any kind of mould.
I'd love to hear from you if you have a minute to spare.
Kindest regards,
Alma Dawlish.
Wow! Isn't that the most fantastic of emails to receive? I was so chuffed! A real blast from the past.
And so children, in conclusion, communications via the internet can also be as positive as they are negative (guess what I'm referring to).
I have now replied to my former teacher and am dying to hear back from her. The big worry here though is that she actually sent it last February, 2004. I only got it recently because I received an email from Friends Reunited saying: "we have two messages for you." Well dang me, I didn't even realise they stored messages on the site. I swear they didn't used to. Now it seems that the site has a kind of in-built email systeym.
Hands up who else would like to receive an email from the past like that? it makes you feel all warm, innit. I hope she's OK 18 months later and doesn't think I didn't want to mail back because I'm too big for all that now, or something. I'd hate to think she thought that.
Course, it now means I have a subscription to Friends Reunited and I wonder if I should start contacting old friends now? Scary!
A situation I'm unaware of ....
My neighbours have started acting a little weirdly towards me. Quite aggressive and rude. I feel rather bullied, to be honest. It's really unpleasant, un-called-for and just not in the spirit of neighbourlyness. I am genuinely mystified as to why their aggression has suddenly run away with them ... I'm not aware I've been a bad neighbour and it is kind of upsetting.
For the first time in my life I've not felt good and safe at home. Not nice.
But, thanks to a lesson I learned from Mr Hawkus, I won't be talking about real life people on the web. Here endeth this one other than to acknowledge I'm rather depressed by this occurrence and sudden display of unpleasantness. I'm very approachable so when they decide to tell me what's going on in their heads that'd be nice.
For the first time in my life I've not felt good and safe at home. Not nice.
But, thanks to a lesson I learned from Mr Hawkus, I won't be talking about real life people on the web. Here endeth this one other than to acknowledge I'm rather depressed by this occurrence and sudden display of unpleasantness. I'm very approachable so when they decide to tell me what's going on in their heads that'd be nice.
Friday, July 01, 2005
Thought the week would never end!
I'm still at work. It's 7:30pm (despite what the Greenwich Mean Time clock at the bottom of this post will say) and I'm shattered.
So much stuff went on this week. Quite apart from being on my own in the Ouch office I was inundated with Live 8 calls from various sources and also dealing with all the huge amount of emails we received off the back of my popbitch incident. Oh and I'm distressed that my upstairs neighbour is going to pounce on e when I get home. She is so aggressive for no reason, the kind of person who never listens but just talks. Stressing me out big time.
But back to this Popbitch thing. I just didn't know what to think when it was pointed out to me yesterday morning. "Damon, someone has written about us on popbitch". What? It's hideously intrusive. It was like tearing down all privacy and also having your self esteem smashed to pieces too.
The thing that really pisses me off now is that it's my favourite pub in the whole of London. I love it! But I'm going to feel funny about going back there now. Will that guy or his mates be there watching?
I feel a bit bad though. I've stopped publishing the comments abou thim even though they are still rolling in. He sounds really remorseful and it's good to learn lessons, innit.
Incidentally I saw his email address. It's entirely possible this man holds a position of social responsibility. I think his employers would be distressed to know he'd written such things. Don't ask me though because I'm not going to tell anyone where he works. As far as I'm concerned he's done really well and I'm kinda impressed with him for owning up like he did. Well done Hawkus.
So much stuff went on this week. Quite apart from being on my own in the Ouch office I was inundated with Live 8 calls from various sources and also dealing with all the huge amount of emails we received off the back of my popbitch incident. Oh and I'm distressed that my upstairs neighbour is going to pounce on e when I get home. She is so aggressive for no reason, the kind of person who never listens but just talks. Stressing me out big time.
But back to this Popbitch thing. I just didn't know what to think when it was pointed out to me yesterday morning. "Damon, someone has written about us on popbitch". What? It's hideously intrusive. It was like tearing down all privacy and also having your self esteem smashed to pieces too.
The thing that really pisses me off now is that it's my favourite pub in the whole of London. I love it! But I'm going to feel funny about going back there now. Will that guy or his mates be there watching?
I feel a bit bad though. I've stopped publishing the comments abou thim even though they are still rolling in. He sounds really remorseful and it's good to learn lessons, innit.
Incidentally I saw his email address. It's entirely possible this man holds a position of social responsibility. I think his employers would be distressed to know he'd written such things. Don't ask me though because I'm not going to tell anyone where he works. As far as I'm concerned he's done really well and I'm kinda impressed with him for owning up like he did. Well done Hawkus.
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
Bring it on God
OK big fella, your holyness on high, throw as much rain and lightning at me this evening as you like. Do your worst. Lob your weather down on me ... your destructive electric forks. C'mon, it's me against you. Direct. Face to face.
Remember tho God ... though a flash flood or electrocution could be imminent right now ... we've faced each other before. Oh don't you remember? It was on that operating table back in 1984. Remember now big guy? Yeah, and who won that time? Well the pure existence of this blog proves that I did.
In conclusion, I'm stronger than God. Here endeth the sermon.
PS: The thing pissing me off most right now is that, with all this heavy rain, satellite TV reception is totally gone and I can't watch Kinga on Big Brother in her first interview since being evicted.
Remember tho God ... though a flash flood or electrocution could be imminent right now ... we've faced each other before. Oh don't you remember? It was on that operating table back in 1984. Remember now big guy? Yeah, and who won that time? Well the pure existence of this blog proves that I did.
In conclusion, I'm stronger than God. Here endeth the sermon.
PS: The thing pissing me off most right now is that, with all this heavy rain, satellite TV reception is totally gone and I can't watch Kinga on Big Brother in her first interview since being evicted.
Thursday, June 23, 2005
Sun = death
I note how many people are loving the hot weather. Really scorching hot 32 degree weather here in London today. People are sitting outside at pubs drinking and enjoying the heat ... making plans for weekends away etc.
My main thought, though, is "hell, the planet is dying".
Is that right or wrong?
Bit by bit the global warming stats are coming out. Just last week it was suggested again that we've got it wrong and the situation is almost irreversable.
sunshine = dying planet? Or sunshine=lovely summer we all deserve?
My main thought, though, is "hell, the planet is dying".
Is that right or wrong?
Bit by bit the global warming stats are coming out. Just last week it was suggested again that we've got it wrong and the situation is almost irreversable.
sunshine = dying planet? Or sunshine=lovely summer we all deserve?
Tuesday, June 21, 2005
Chinese supermarket
Wow, wahey yip yo! Have been to a chinese supermarket this evening. It was fantastic.
The whole place really reeked of herbs and spices. The completely brilliant thing was stepping into another culture tho. So much stuff there from sources I've never heard of.
I was particularly pleased to pick up some powdered cream coconut which sounds nice and simple to add into oriental cooking. Having tins or cartons of coconut milk aren't great, they don't get fully used and just go off in my fridge. But powdered, wow, will last forever! Only cost about 30p too. Oh and a huge big freezer sack of peeled and ready garlic, frozen, just 70-something pence!
The newspapers were talking about how Ice Green Tea is the big trendy thing to drink in Japan at the moment so I bought some of that too ... it comes in a can. It's flavoured with jasmin tho so not too sure about it. Am nothing if not a fashion victim tho ... OK so buying into fashions several thousands of miles away now too.
Didn't really fancy buying the dried black moss ... couldn't work out what to do with that. BMoss on toast for breakfast?
Anyhoo, if you can get there it's called Wing Yip and the one I went to was on the Edgeware Road, well, Staples Corner really.
The whole place really reeked of herbs and spices. The completely brilliant thing was stepping into another culture tho. So much stuff there from sources I've never heard of.
I was particularly pleased to pick up some powdered cream coconut which sounds nice and simple to add into oriental cooking. Having tins or cartons of coconut milk aren't great, they don't get fully used and just go off in my fridge. But powdered, wow, will last forever! Only cost about 30p too. Oh and a huge big freezer sack of peeled and ready garlic, frozen, just 70-something pence!
The newspapers were talking about how Ice Green Tea is the big trendy thing to drink in Japan at the moment so I bought some of that too ... it comes in a can. It's flavoured with jasmin tho so not too sure about it. Am nothing if not a fashion victim tho ... OK so buying into fashions several thousands of miles away now too.
Didn't really fancy buying the dried black moss ... couldn't work out what to do with that. BMoss on toast for breakfast?
Anyhoo, if you can get there it's called Wing Yip and the one I went to was on the Edgeware Road, well, Staples Corner really.
Sunday, June 12, 2005
I hate hearing other people's dreams
Before I even start writing I know I will do this post no justice whatsoever. I'm about to tell you of my delusional high temperature dreams of the last few days in the full knowledge that hearing about other peoples' dreams is one of the most boring things ever. My pal Sara always thinks her dreams are fascinating, as an example, and regularly relates the weird goings-on in her mind. Usually far more fantastical and extra-earthly in the head, less interesting when spoken out loud to someone who never had that perspective nor the touchstones or events that served to create that particular in-head mosaic.
I'll keep it short.
Thursday afternoon the temperature really started and I went to bed shivvering. I started to drift in and out of sleep after a couple of hours and the weirdness started. Having the radio on in the background probably didn't help.
It's so hard to explain but seriously screwed my head up for a good 24 hours. I dreamt that words no longer existed. Worse than that, thoughts of words didn't exist. Something had happened to the brains of everyone in the world - be it by parliamentary decree, virus or mass manifestation - that meant words, signs, signifiers, concepts ... none of that meant anything. We all had to start again with language and thoughts.
I found myself in a big room full of people. I was writing things down, things that would have been intelligible sentences some hours before but were now alphabet soup. Meant nothing. But needed meaning attached to them. So this whole process of giving new meaning to old words started at a giddying rate.
I'd write the sentence: "glastonbury is a fabulous festival". It would mean nothing to me. I would have to attach a meaning to it, say: "I'd like a cup of tea" or "the avenue is very leafy" or "snow". But how to keep up?
Nothing meant anything any more. new concepts were joining old phrases and being forgotten almost instantaneously ... though others seemed to be picking it all up a little quicker than me.
Remember, this was a worldwide phenomenon. No one in the world could communicate with others properly any longer least alone form cogent thoughts in their own minds.
So I guess it was as much about the power of language as it was about world collapse and headfuck. It could have been interesting if it wasn't so disturbing.
I'd wake from time to time to hear snatches of news on Radio 5 which typically melted into my dreams and became equally meaningless or rather I was trying to seek new meaning from old phrases like: "Blair flies to washington ahead of G8 summit". Meant nothing, not in the new world order. People's brains didn't work in the same way as before,you see. Everything slipped out.
I've egged this enough now.
If anyone is in the slightest bit interested in analysing that particular dream then please feel free. Yes it probably means I'm a gay under-achiever with an elektra complex or something.
My head sorted itself out a bit by Friday afternoon but I found it a really terrifying dream or delusion or whatever it was because I was half awake, sometimes fully. Try perceiving a world without a language or even words or ideas attached to what you're seeing or experiencing yet knowing you are intelligent all at the same time. I'm pretty damn sure there is someone reading this who probably goes through similar regularly.
I'll keep it short.
Thursday afternoon the temperature really started and I went to bed shivvering. I started to drift in and out of sleep after a couple of hours and the weirdness started. Having the radio on in the background probably didn't help.
It's so hard to explain but seriously screwed my head up for a good 24 hours. I dreamt that words no longer existed. Worse than that, thoughts of words didn't exist. Something had happened to the brains of everyone in the world - be it by parliamentary decree, virus or mass manifestation - that meant words, signs, signifiers, concepts ... none of that meant anything. We all had to start again with language and thoughts.
I found myself in a big room full of people. I was writing things down, things that would have been intelligible sentences some hours before but were now alphabet soup. Meant nothing. But needed meaning attached to them. So this whole process of giving new meaning to old words started at a giddying rate.
I'd write the sentence: "glastonbury is a fabulous festival". It would mean nothing to me. I would have to attach a meaning to it, say: "I'd like a cup of tea" or "the avenue is very leafy" or "snow". But how to keep up?
Nothing meant anything any more. new concepts were joining old phrases and being forgotten almost instantaneously ... though others seemed to be picking it all up a little quicker than me.
Remember, this was a worldwide phenomenon. No one in the world could communicate with others properly any longer least alone form cogent thoughts in their own minds.
So I guess it was as much about the power of language as it was about world collapse and headfuck. It could have been interesting if it wasn't so disturbing.
I'd wake from time to time to hear snatches of news on Radio 5 which typically melted into my dreams and became equally meaningless or rather I was trying to seek new meaning from old phrases like: "Blair flies to washington ahead of G8 summit". Meant nothing, not in the new world order. People's brains didn't work in the same way as before,you see. Everything slipped out.
I've egged this enough now.
If anyone is in the slightest bit interested in analysing that particular dream then please feel free. Yes it probably means I'm a gay under-achiever with an elektra complex or something.
My head sorted itself out a bit by Friday afternoon but I found it a really terrifying dream or delusion or whatever it was because I was half awake, sometimes fully. Try perceiving a world without a language or even words or ideas attached to what you're seeing or experiencing yet knowing you are intelligent all at the same time. I'm pretty damn sure there is someone reading this who probably goes through similar regularly.
After the storm ...
Jesus! So last week I got a small bout of food poisoning and this week I get some gastric flu thing. I feel embarrassed now that I took a day off work for the food poisoning after having experienced the stay-in-bed 3 day shivvering exhaustion, etc of this gastric flu. Flu caught from a mere babe. Children always always always spread diseases. Can't stop coughing my flipping guts out now either. Know that jarred chest feeling where you need to cough but it's too painful to cough any more?
Anyhoo, I'm not one to complain (yeah right).
What have I got to say today. Well not a lot. It's a stupid hour in the morning and I can't sleep. I have, however, watched the first episode of the new series of Six Feet Under (series 5) that was broadcast in the US last Monday. Thank you to that excellent technology known as BitTorrent and my 2 meg broadband connection. Might wait til the rest hits E4 though, s'better that way and less hassle. How come I don't know anyone else that watches SFU? It's the best thing on TV ever!
I've not eaten since Wednesday. Well barely. Food hurts. Oddly I'm not missing food. Oh and oddly I'm putting on weight ... how the hell does THAT happen? I always knew there was 'another plan' for me, if you know what I mean. Like I wasn't the same as all those other human beings.
Anyhoo, I'm not one to complain (yeah right).
What have I got to say today. Well not a lot. It's a stupid hour in the morning and I can't sleep. I have, however, watched the first episode of the new series of Six Feet Under (series 5) that was broadcast in the US last Monday. Thank you to that excellent technology known as BitTorrent and my 2 meg broadband connection. Might wait til the rest hits E4 though, s'better that way and less hassle. How come I don't know anyone else that watches SFU? It's the best thing on TV ever!
I've not eaten since Wednesday. Well barely. Food hurts. Oddly I'm not missing food. Oh and oddly I'm putting on weight ... how the hell does THAT happen? I always knew there was 'another plan' for me, if you know what I mean. Like I wasn't the same as all those other human beings.
Monday, June 06, 2005
My flawed ebay plan
Currently I am poor. impoverished.
A couple of weeks ago I embarked on a plan to start selling stuff on ebay to make some extra money.
I've started selling some of my audio books and the odd DVD. The trouble is I have only made 12.50 so far and I'm already running out of things to sell. I really thought I'd cracked this poverty thing too.
A couple of weeks ago I embarked on a plan to start selling stuff on ebay to make some extra money.
I've started selling some of my audio books and the odd DVD. The trouble is I have only made 12.50 so far and I'm already running out of things to sell. I really thought I'd cracked this poverty thing too.
Friday, June 03, 2005
generalities on Friday
Kristina went and bought the season 3 box set of Six Feet Under today and we were gonna watch it this evening. Whaddya know, my DVD player has packed up. How pissed off am I? Didn't even realise the box set was out until today. If you've not seen SFU you've got to get it. It's a life alteringly superb show ... I'm sure you'll be able to get a series 1 box set off ebay for less than a tenner. Well worth it.
I've gone all geeky looking at DVD players online. Seen a fabulous one for 41 quid that allows you to view MPG, AVI, DIVX and all sorts of other formats that you can illegally download off the web with BitTorrent, burn to CD and then just take thru into the lounge and watch on yer TV with this little beauty of a gizmo. I can post more details here if anyone's interested ... can't be arsed to do any of that linking magic from this post today.
Amazing rainstorm this afternoon. Anyone get caught in it? It was, as Kumail from Big Brother would say: "fabulous". I got so wet ... and I really love rain ... as I was explaining to Rain in the office earlier before I realised she might think I was ripping the piss and or being faintly pornographic. "I just like being covered in rain" I said in a passionate voice. Because I do. It's accessible weather, it comes to get you. Blue skies, rainbows, fog and sun stay up in the air well away from me. There ought to be a law against it.
Oh and regarding my earlier post about reclaiming words. That was my attempt at ironic humour.
For less irony though, check out the new Sound TV channel, it's on Sky Digital #277. It's the most horrific pile of crap ever. Remember The Comedians on ITV in the 70s? It's like that, only here in the 21st century and hence scarily scary. "ere, and I'll tell you anuvva fing my muvva in law says". It's even got that bloke who used to do the Capital Gold Breakfast Show with his 'naughty boys'. Dreadful.
Oh and is Lenny Henry's so-called comedy show on BBC1 currently the very worst show ever aired on my TV set this last decade? Shouting and smiling and laughing your way thru a script doesn't make it any better if it's piss poor. And it is totally piss poor. The audience must be devoid of any self worth for laughing else 'caught in a moment' that I could never get caught in.
I've gone all geeky looking at DVD players online. Seen a fabulous one for 41 quid that allows you to view MPG, AVI, DIVX and all sorts of other formats that you can illegally download off the web with BitTorrent, burn to CD and then just take thru into the lounge and watch on yer TV with this little beauty of a gizmo. I can post more details here if anyone's interested ... can't be arsed to do any of that linking magic from this post today.
Amazing rainstorm this afternoon. Anyone get caught in it? It was, as Kumail from Big Brother would say: "fabulous". I got so wet ... and I really love rain ... as I was explaining to Rain in the office earlier before I realised she might think I was ripping the piss and or being faintly pornographic. "I just like being covered in rain" I said in a passionate voice. Because I do. It's accessible weather, it comes to get you. Blue skies, rainbows, fog and sun stay up in the air well away from me. There ought to be a law against it.
Oh and regarding my earlier post about reclaiming words. That was my attempt at ironic humour.
For less irony though, check out the new Sound TV channel, it's on Sky Digital #277. It's the most horrific pile of crap ever. Remember The Comedians on ITV in the 70s? It's like that, only here in the 21st century and hence scarily scary. "ere, and I'll tell you anuvva fing my muvva in law says". It's even got that bloke who used to do the Capital Gold Breakfast Show with his 'naughty boys'. Dreadful.
Oh and is Lenny Henry's so-called comedy show on BBC1 currently the very worst show ever aired on my TV set this last decade? Shouting and smiling and laughing your way thru a script doesn't make it any better if it's piss poor. And it is totally piss poor. The audience must be devoid of any self worth for laughing else 'caught in a moment' that I could never get caught in.
Reclaiming words fun
Things Damon has learnt never to say to women #43
I use the word 'cunt' because I am reclaiming it for you
I use the word 'cunt' because I am reclaiming it for you
Thursday, June 02, 2005
Not a Lotto
It's 2:43am. I'm feeling sick. I had a nice convenient takeaway last night that woke me up from the inside at midnight thirty. I feel rough and there's no let-up. I will go an investigate some vitamins in a minute to try and help. I feel so unhealthily vile. A nice fizzy drink may also help, I'm thinking.
Anyhoo ... the reason I'm up at this time is because I suddenly remembered I could be a millionaire.
About a month ago I signed up online to 16 games on the Lotto (links to the numbers on the BBC site, not the Lotto itself cos I can't have you joining up on a whim).
Why did I do it? Well I am so lacking in money at the moment that it actually sounded like a good option to invest 16 quid in this dippy lottery. 10 games later I've not even won a tenner, though.
In my head I was thinking "you've gotta be in it to win it" hence my ticket purchase. Until mid June I am one of those who volunteers to pay stupid tax.
On telling my sister last week how little money I have right now she said "why don't you play the lottery?" It's like we're all caught up on the lie ... but in one weird move all money problems - and hence a lot of life problems too - coudl be wiped away. Just think about it for a second.
1 in 14 million chance of winning the big jackpot. I must be a crazy flipping frog. Yes, the money would be far better spent down the dogs.
... one of those fizzy orangey vitamin drinks that costs 5 quid for 10 tablets would be good right now.
Anyhoo ... the reason I'm up at this time is because I suddenly remembered I could be a millionaire.
About a month ago I signed up online to 16 games on the Lotto (links to the numbers on the BBC site, not the Lotto itself cos I can't have you joining up on a whim).
Why did I do it? Well I am so lacking in money at the moment that it actually sounded like a good option to invest 16 quid in this dippy lottery. 10 games later I've not even won a tenner, though.
In my head I was thinking "you've gotta be in it to win it" hence my ticket purchase. Until mid June I am one of those who volunteers to pay stupid tax.
On telling my sister last week how little money I have right now she said "why don't you play the lottery?" It's like we're all caught up on the lie ... but in one weird move all money problems - and hence a lot of life problems too - coudl be wiped away. Just think about it for a second.
1 in 14 million chance of winning the big jackpot. I must be a crazy flipping frog. Yes, the money would be far better spent down the dogs.
... one of those fizzy orangey vitamin drinks that costs 5 quid for 10 tablets would be good right now.
Monday, May 30, 2005
Audio described movies
Just wanted to share that I have seen two movies on DVD with audio description this last week. They were both rather good and I recommend them.
1: Garden State -- Andrew 'Large' Largeman is blamed by his father for the freak accident which left his mother a paraplegic. Leaving his hometown of New Jersey, Large isolates
himself from the world and drifts in Los Angeles. When he hears of his mother's death, however, he is forced to return to the 'Garden State' and reconsider
his own life. Oh and the girl he falls in love with has epilepsy and Andrew himself has manic depression, of sorts. Can't say too much here. A veritable disability flick tho innit.
2: Enduring Love -- Joe and Claire are enjoying a romantic picnic when they notice a hot air balloon in considerable distress. Together with a group of onlookers, Joe rushes
to its aid. A sudden gust of wind places the rescuers in danger however, and, as it is sent skywards, a man is left dangling from the balloon before plunging
to his death. While Joe is left physically unscathed, the damage to his psyche seems irreparable. Based on the novel by Ian McEwan. (what this review, nicked from Amazon, fails to tell is that it's largely about Joe being stalked by a bloke who loves him played by Rhys or Rees Iffans or Evans or whatever. Can I be arsed to look up the spelling? Do you think spellings somehow jump out at me from posters or newspapers and ozmose into my inner thoughts like sighties? Sheesh. I'm not doing the extra research just for a blog entry. If someone could post the correct spelling of this Welsh fella who was also in Notting Hill then, well, feel free if ya like).
Have just rented Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless thingy from Blockbuster not 15 minutes ago ... will watch it later. It has no audio description soundtrack so lets hope the natural dialogue is descriptive enough to carry me thru the narrrative from start to finish so as I don't make up my own little film in my head as often happens (though sometimes they are better, you should hear my version of Contact)
1: Garden State -- Andrew 'Large' Largeman is blamed by his father for the freak accident which left his mother a paraplegic. Leaving his hometown of New Jersey, Large isolates
himself from the world and drifts in Los Angeles. When he hears of his mother's death, however, he is forced to return to the 'Garden State' and reconsider
his own life. Oh and the girl he falls in love with has epilepsy and Andrew himself has manic depression, of sorts. Can't say too much here. A veritable disability flick tho innit.
2: Enduring Love -- Joe and Claire are enjoying a romantic picnic when they notice a hot air balloon in considerable distress. Together with a group of onlookers, Joe rushes
to its aid. A sudden gust of wind places the rescuers in danger however, and, as it is sent skywards, a man is left dangling from the balloon before plunging
to his death. While Joe is left physically unscathed, the damage to his psyche seems irreparable. Based on the novel by Ian McEwan. (what this review, nicked from Amazon, fails to tell is that it's largely about Joe being stalked by a bloke who loves him played by Rhys or Rees Iffans or Evans or whatever. Can I be arsed to look up the spelling? Do you think spellings somehow jump out at me from posters or newspapers and ozmose into my inner thoughts like sighties? Sheesh. I'm not doing the extra research just for a blog entry. If someone could post the correct spelling of this Welsh fella who was also in Notting Hill then, well, feel free if ya like).
Have just rented Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless thingy from Blockbuster not 15 minutes ago ... will watch it later. It has no audio description soundtrack so lets hope the natural dialogue is descriptive enough to carry me thru the narrrative from start to finish so as I don't make up my own little film in my head as often happens (though sometimes they are better, you should hear my version of Contact)
Sunday, May 29, 2005
Crazy frog rools!
Am I the only person in Britain to be genuinely amused by the crazy frog thing?
When I say genuinely, I'm talking in an ironic way.
Tomorrow I'm going to get the ringtone and put it on my mobile. It will play out every time someone calls ... but with a sense of irony there.
However ... how many people will realise I'm being ironic? People in my office plus friends and family might get it (they know I have a brain and hate commercial shite) but will people on buses and trains understand? Or will they label me a loser as soon as they hear the tone?
Well I've worked out a plan to combat the latter. I'll get the tone tomorrow and if the phone rings in a place full of people I don't know, I'm going to do a little dance to highlight the irony.
When I say genuinely, I'm talking in an ironic way.
Tomorrow I'm going to get the ringtone and put it on my mobile. It will play out every time someone calls ... but with a sense of irony there.
However ... how many people will realise I'm being ironic? People in my office plus friends and family might get it (they know I have a brain and hate commercial shite) but will people on buses and trains understand? Or will they label me a loser as soon as they hear the tone?
Well I've worked out a plan to combat the latter. I'll get the tone tomorrow and if the phone rings in a place full of people I don't know, I'm going to do a little dance to highlight the irony.
Monday, May 16, 2005
BUYING YOUR WAY OUT OF LOSING
I want to listen to my Daft Punk CD.
I can't find my Daft Punk CD.
The idea that I will have to search high and low for my Daft Punk CD distresses me.
I may buy a new Daft Punk CD so I don't have to look for the old Daft Punk CD.
This is how Damon finds things that he loses.
Is this how all blind people deal with losing CDs?
Background: I have about 500 CDs in the house, it could be any one of them, I don't wish to start stuffing every CD into the player to hear what it is before discarding and playing the next. Did that make sense?
Until everything have a smart chip in it, the world will be invisible.
I can't find my Daft Punk CD.
The idea that I will have to search high and low for my Daft Punk CD distresses me.
I may buy a new Daft Punk CD so I don't have to look for the old Daft Punk CD.
This is how Damon finds things that he loses.
Is this how all blind people deal with losing CDs?
Background: I have about 500 CDs in the house, it could be any one of them, I don't wish to start stuffing every CD into the player to hear what it is before discarding and playing the next. Did that make sense?
Until everything have a smart chip in it, the world will be invisible.
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