cardboard robot ninja pirate monkey

tallest man on earth

well i walk upon the river like it's easier than land
evil's in my pocket and your will is in my hand
oh, your will is in my hand

and i'll throw it in the current that i stand upon so still
love is all, from what i've heard, but my heart's learned to kill
oh, mine has learned to kill

- love is all.

my my it has been a long time

here i am sat in bed trying to write a coherent blog post with my thumbs (on my iPhone, not just a bizarre typing style to add to my most unconventional mouse holding technique).
it might not be the easiest or grammatically correct method to use but while I can't be bothered to go and fetch my laptop power cable from the living room, it's definitely the most convenient.

I was just sat contemplating over things
that have happened this year what with it coming up to the end of December and I realised that quite a lot has been going on which I haven't wrote about for one reason or another (laziness and fear of ridicule being two of those amongst others).

so...

food.
a good food book is as effective as a swift kick up the backside for me when it comes to breaking me out of my recurring periods of lethargy. it only takes nigel slaters gloriously simple instructions and photos of dark green vegetables to make me want to not only cook the things right then and there (leading to many a midnight where I'm cursing the lack of good 24hour grocery/delis in this place we call a metropolis and forcing me to go to bed with an unfulfilled hunger than can only be cured with more than one bowl of coco-pops the following morning) but to be at the point of wanting to move house so I can have a garden to do some serious veg growing.
the wonderful tender vol 1 (veg) & 2 (fruit) from mr slater are addictive and encompassing enough that anyone with a love of wholesome honest and yet incredibly delicious food could probably
go through the next ten years without needing any more culinary literature, were it not, however, for the existence of the river cottage bread handbook and meat bible.
bread is like alcohol for me. I'm not really bothered about it unless it's really fucking good and a properly baked loaf is as much a science as mixing a perfect aviation. but then, when it is really good, it's just one of lifes small joys that can be revelled in.
I've tried making bread before and failed. It's never been a complete disaster but it's never been right. and like I said, if it's not right it's not worth it. bad bread is just depressing.
the problem was that I was lacking understanding of the science bit. I should have known as I've never been able to be good at something without first attaining the understanding of how the thing works, difference with bread was that they didn't teach it in school. crying shame come to think of it now, would have been a shit load more useful than making pointless ornamental pots from sausages of clay.
thankfully I came across the river cottage bread handbook, which is exactly that. it doesn't just give you recipes but explains through the whole bread making process in detail, allowing you to recognise for yourself what you need to do as you're making and baking your dough. I was amazed at the difference it made and the first result being only a couple of pinches of salt away from a kind of personal perfection.
now I need to find the time to practice so I can become master baker and have an income when I move to a remote farmhouse somewhere.

meat.
speaking of food I'm reminded that I've been to the greatest butcher manned by hilariously nice guys situated underneath the barbecoa restaurant in the newly finished one new change centre near st pauls.
spurred on to stop being so lazy and get cooking again by hugh fearnley doo-dahs river cottage meat book, I got all excited and bagged myself a plentiful stash of roasting joints and braising steak aswell as a good haul of bones and a trotter to coax into stock form.
boy am I glad I did. it weirdly made me feel like a real person again (not the meat part but the swaying away from packet foods which I can become quite reliant on) and even my brother noted the good smell induced by the cooking of a gelatinous beefy broth.
as for christmas, well, the bit of beef ive got is simply a marvel. the marbling is incredible and with my meat book firmly in hand this year I should be able to do it justice.

wales.
kind of related to these are the weekend trips my mum and I have been making to wales when we decide we just need to make a break for it on the odd occasion.
as luck would have it we found what we think is the best bed and breakfast that money can buy (aslong as you are not looking for rules and regulations in your place of stay) situated in a most beautiful part of the world - on the edge of the brecon beacons.
its not beauty as you might think of in say Bali or somewhere exotic like that, but if you like happy looking cows, intrepid castles, the neatest greenest fields known to man and plenty of good windswept vistas then it's the place for you.
the lovely peter evans owns and runs the old storehouse just a short drive away from the town of Brecon. big double bedrooms with gorgeous views and their own sofas and giant bathrooms are just the start. come the morning you are in for an even bigger treat when you sit down for endless tea and incredible local produce cooked breakfasts that are seemingly endless and really could happily see you through for the rest of the day. that'd be a shame though however as you'd miss the great food served in the nearby llanfranych or the really top quality meat to be had from the local butchers (welsh lamb really is quite something).

next year a woman called Caroline who runs an award winning small bread company from Brecon is starting up bread making courses for all different kinds of people and mum and I are planning on going. just a day with only 2 or 3 of you as the students but the amount of things you could learn in that time could change my bread making abilities forever.
excited is not the word.

after all, physicist helicopter pilots need sandwiches too.

don't miss in the next not so thrilling installment: homework, argentine tango, spring bulbs and snow.

brian eno - the dick flash interview

been a lot problem around this area recently with coug-ars with knocking things over, raping cows and sheep and causing all kinds of bloody nuisance

ears (september/october)

1. pass out - tinie tempah (disc-overy)
2. murder weapon - tricky (mixed race)
3. infinity - the xx (XX)
4. 2/2 - brian eno (ambient 1 music for airports)
5. wicked game - chris isaak (best of)
6. roads - portishead (dummy)
7. aftermath - tricky (maxinquaye)
8. the cave - mumford & sons (sigh no more)
9. hot, raw, sex - jimmy edgar (XXX)
10. the promise - when in rome (when in rome)
11. the becoming - nine inch nails (downward spiral)

ears (july/august)

1. wrapped around your finger - the police (synchronicity)
2. tightrope - janelle monae feat. big boi (the archandroid)
3. keep the car running - arcade fire (neon bible)
4. diamonds on the soles of her shoes - paul simon (graceland)
5. you can dance - bryan ferry (olympia)
6. clare de lune - debussy
7. i need you tonight - professor green feat. ed drewett
8. policy of trust - tanlines (settings e.p.)
9. say you'll go - janelle monae (the archandroid)
10. noon hill wood - richard skelton (landings)
11. the eraser - thom yorke (the eraser)
12. violin concerto mvt2 - philip glass (violin concerto, low symphony)

logans run

the quandry of strangers

chance is a funny thing. i can see how some happenings might lead people to believe in things such as fate or destiny, when the reality and probability of life seems to suggest that encounters between strangers (especially big cities) is statistically quite improbable. then again, arent people who we would be drawn to or have a connection with be more likely to share similar interests, work and life patterns, tastes and even habits, meaning that bumping into someone should not be as unexpected as it may seem?

all speculation aside, im reminded of these things most mornings as i pass someone who i dont know but who has been a sort of constant presence in my time in london.

now, anyone who knows me will be able to tell you that i have an unnatural attraction to men who work in carhartt shops. i cant help it. they seem to only employ exceedingly attractive people and i for one am not going to look such a gift horse in the mouth when im in need of a little day brightening. anyway, when i first moved to the big city there was but one small store of theirs in covent garden - little grey fronted with a downstairs bit for girls stuff (not that i bought any of that, being as i always have been a tomboy). the first time i went in there to buy a new sweatshirt i was forced to develop juvenile crushes for two quite different, but equally beautiful men. the first a tall french guy, now in remembering id say he looked rather uncannily like tom hardy but leaner and taller and a little fairer of hair. even my mum approved of him.
the second was a much younger baby faced guy, tall and slim still but dark haired and quite shy. saying that most of my wardrobe at the time consisted of carhartt clothing, they were both a happy bonus to my clothes shopping needs.

occasional trips to the store gave me ample time to appreciate their faces (i know that sounds bad, but you show me someone who hasnt gone wobbly over some shop assistant and ill show you someone who has no soul) until one day i went there with a friend to look for a new pair of jeans and on descending into the girls basement ended up face to face with what could have been my doppleganger - apart from his head was that of the french guy. no joke, i was wearing exactly the same clothes as him. and i dont just mean similar shapes/colours etc, but exactly the same clothes. even down to the white vans rowley skate shoes. some might scoff at this point and say "well, you obviously had a thing for him, maybe you did it on purpose" but really? on purpose? i may have bad luck with guys but even i know that generally they dont go for girls who look the same as them.
there we were, stood on the stairs, looking each other up and down and sort of trying to know what to make of the situation. i obviously had an awkward look of embarrassment on my face while he just looked up, smiled and said "good taste". if id have been more confident i might have thrown myself at him there and then, but thought it best to just smile, remain quiet and possibly never return to the shop again. you know, the logical option.

anyway, time went by and i moved jobs and i didnt go in the store so much, the french guy disappeared probably to work somewhere else and ontop of that they opened another larger store just round the corner but this seemed to have the resulting effect of all the staff changing quite dramatically.

i didnt really think much of it until one day i was walking down the road where the old shop was, not with the intention of going in but just on my way to meet a friend. i have an inability to keep my hands still so i was playing with my phone as i walked, however, butter fingers as i am i dropped it. weve all done that thing when you drop something while youre moving but its still in reach and in your line of travel enough for you to simply 'stoop and scoop' without really breaking your stride. you know that motion where you are still moving forwards but temporarily looking at the ground?
yeah, not a great thing to do in covent garden on a saturday. youll most likely end up walking into something or someone.
and i did. guess who it was? yup, baby faced dark haired guy.

i swallowed my stomach and my manners. i tried to speak but it just came out as garbled rubbish as far as i can remember. im hoping that i formed some actual words enough for him to realise that i was trying to apologise. he didnt look annoyed - i remember that but not much else.

at this point i think youre probably wondering where this story is going. just to let you know that im not quite sure myself, its possibly not going anywhere but saying as very few people read this blog i dont think that really matters. if youre wondering how to get the last 3 minutes of your life back id suggest that you forget about it, get over it and go and do something else. now, where was i...

oh yeah. i know thats not such an odd thing and im not professing any of these occurrences to be particularly newsworthy, but the years that followed kind of kept the theme going. i ended up living and working in battersea. after you've lived in london a while you also stop frequenting the centre so much, especially when the weather is nice as its just too goddamn busy, and with my clothing style changing a little my trips to the carhartt stores dwindled to less than often.

you'd think that these people that once made an impression on you would just be lost back into the noise of the crowd so to speak. there are so many people in a city that when you don't have a common cause to see someone, generally, you wont see them again. its sad, but part of life. there are so many people that you'll never even see, let alone meet. so, when i moved jobs the last thing that i expected was to see mr dark haired baby face guy on the road outside my work on my second morning in.

slightly confused but secretly quite overjoyed to see him again (although definitely less babyish but no less attractive), at first i put it down to just random chance until a while later i realised it must be because he was now working in their head offices - which - it transpired where on the second floor of a building on the other side of the road from my work. how nice! time went by and he became an occasional background crowd actor in after work pub scenes of my life. i realised i actually enjoyed him being around again, but at the same time i felt inordinately guilty as there i was, with this strange little history of his presence in my life, but at the same time being sure that he wouldn't recognise me from the next person. i felt a little bad, voyeuristic almost. but definitely not stalker-ish (just to make that clear).
again, youd think well, its only a matter of time until they stop working there and on day youll realise that they haven't made an appearance in quite some time and thatll be that. no more. the familiar stranger will once again be lost to you and theyll go back to being a memory.
he did stop working there. several months went by without any sign of him. i hoped he was well. i hoped he was enjoying his new job.

i moved. from battersea to nearer work, in whitechapel. the week after i moved there i was trying out what id worked out to be the most direct, while also quietest route to the studio (i like to try and see as few people while going to and from work as possible. the less noise the more thinking space). rummaging around in my bag to check that id got my wallet or some other such item i turned a corner in my route on redchurch street to notice just in time that i was about to walk into someone.
looking up i found myself once again face to face with the what i can only describe now as one of the most beautiful faces ive ever seen. no longer babyish, a bit of a beard, but instantly recognisable as that same dark haired guy thats been cropping up all these years.

again, i know its just chance and actually when it comes to it these things are as likely to happen as the person also turning that corner as you being a different random stranger who youve never seen before and who you probably wont remember even 30 seconds after nearly stepping on their toe, but it really does make me wonder.
seems he now works at a production company whos studios are on a road which is part of my route to work. something like that isnt hard to deduce when you see them go into the same building at the same time in the morning several days on the trot.

my wonder is, when do you let go of it being chance and decide that it might be something else? is it ridiculous to think that it could be something else? for me, no. my jungian personality type has me as an abstract dreamer of sorts who "lives in a world of hidden meanings and possibilities" so i know that its probably just me.

shame though. although not from his aspect. i would doubt that he even realises that im alive apart from that would be rather unkind to someone, suggesting that he might be rather self centred or something. weve also walked past each other enough times now over the last 2 years for me to at least be one of the 'morning regulars' we all have on our daily journeys. im also convinced that he has smiled at me a couple of times, although, i know myself and so i am equally convinced that i was just imagining it.

so anyway, welcome to my world. and mr dark haired guy, if you're out there i hope you dont mind. im just a normal girl with an inborn sense of permanent bewilderment. i promise i try my hardest not to stare but if you were ever going to get hit by a falling piano, id run to push you out the way.

fake internet sensations suck ass (for a limited time only)

dry board hoax meme

a boy unsure of his sisters fate enters into limbo...

...is the entire description featured of a new game that can be found now on xbox live arcade for download - LIMBO.

The first thing that struck me as wonderfully refreshing about this game was the fact that you choose play and rather than get lengthy tedious narrative intros to the gameplay, instead for a moment you watch your little black and white character appear to come to in the middle of a monochromatic forest scene. The wonderful simplicity of the illustration and background styles makes something which is just pure joy to look at and is obviously something that left the games designers with extra time to lavish on all those tiny little details that turn a good game into something truly great.

while at first you may think that it looks cutesy, dont be fooled. it definitely has an innocence and by the fact that the entire controls consist of the left thumbstick for moving, A for jump and B for action, it really should be childs play. however, the puzzles are challenging and with the fact that there really is absolutely no help or prompt system whatsoever and also no other visual aids other than the scenery that you can see, you have to keep yourself quite on the ball. you can also end up drying in a spectacular array of different gruesome ways. i lost count of the number of times that i found myself impaled on something, crushed beneath some massive falling boulder, shot in the head with an arrow by a mysterious shadowy figure or even sliced in two by a rotary saw blade.

it brings to mind a similar kind of gameplay as those other classic indie productions like braid. this just has a much more atmospheric mood but still with all the joys of random levers, moving platforms and unexpected twists and turns.

with an ign rating of 9.0 out of 10 it seems that im not the only person to be appreciating this little masterpiece of visual communication. if nothing else i think anyone should get it just for its lessons in subtly. when was the last time you saw a game that had no explanation, instructions or written additions, but which was as easy and intuitive to play?

get it. play it. you wont regret it.