Tuesday, July 27, 2004

Grant Morrison is a comic book writer and magician (what is it about writing comics and magic?). He has done some great work over the past few years and I'm currently reading his Sea Guy, a tale about a semi-retired hero and his talking tuna sidekick. The site looks like it could do with a little updating here and there but has some interesting stuff on it beyond the usual blah blah blah.

Monday, July 26, 2004

Amparanoia Posted by Hello
Went to the womad festival in Reading this last weekend. A weekend of various music from around the world. Was a lot of fun and the weather was mostly great, especially as recently it has been very cold and rainy in England recently. A few stand out acts were Amparanoia from Spain, a US/Puerto Rican band called Radio Mundial who sounded like latin music mixed with a generous slice of prog rock, Tinariwen with an afro-electric blues sound, Senor Coconut... the list goes on. The only real down points for me were David Byrne (not very good) and missing Daby Toure because the time was changed.

Drummers of Burundi Posted by Hello

Papier mache artists in residence, the Mora Brothers from Cuba Posted by Hello

Flags at Womad Posted by Hello

Zap Mama Posted by Hello

Sunday, July 18, 2004

Aggie, me and ghazala Posted by Hello

Andy, ants and paddi Posted by Hello

Tanya's birthday party - Tanya and Aggie Posted by Hello

Saturday, July 17, 2004

Education Leeds We finally got the new website up, tested and mostly working, and thd dns changed yesterday.

Sunday, July 11, 2004

Fylfot Books | Writings | Cup-and-Ring Art (1): "They are known by a variety of names, and each has its own myth and identity. In the Scottish lowlands they are known as Brownie Stones; in northern Scotland they are called Gruagach Stones (in some districts they later became known as Knocking Stones); in the Grampians they were called Fairies' Footprints; in the northern counties of England, Dobie or Dobbie Stones; in Yorkshire, Cat troughs; in Scandinavia, Elf-mills; in Australia, Tjuringa stones;"

More carvings, Ilkley Moor. Some of the patterns are more sophisticated, like this one near the Cow and Calf rocks. Posted by Hello

Cup marked rock, Ilkley Moor. These carvings are prehistoric and the type is found all over Europe, although their purpose is unknown. Posted by Hello

Thursday, July 08, 2004

Wired News: Building a Better Mozilla
Fellow Mozilla users might find this article interesting - Information on all the little tools that are out there to improve the experience.

Wednesday, July 07, 2004

How to Make a Complete Map of Every Thought you Think: This is a man who spent a couple of months writing down every thought he had. You can read more on the BBC News site too.

Sunday, July 04, 2004

RADIOCHANGO :: Music and Revolution :: La Onda Zapatista: "# A spreading and promoting portal of Mestiza music, with detailed dossiers on several groups, an agenda with the best selection of music and a web-radio.
# A spreading portal of social political news (The Conscience) where well known characters contribute.
# A virtual community, where people all around the world can share their experiences thanks to the forums and chat."
A good website to lose yourself in for a while.

Saturday, July 03, 2004

The Beat: Issue #1
A new online magazine for writers and poets influenced by the Beats. Haven't had much chance to properly check it out yet, but it looks good.

Friday, July 02, 2004

1. The Search for the Bull:

"In the pasture of this world, I endlessly push aside the tall grasses in search of the bull.
Following unnamed rivers, lost upon the interpenetrating paths of distant mountains,
My strength failing and my vitality exhausted, I cannot find the bull.
I only hear the locusts chirring through the forest at night."
or Bunny's gonna get ya

An old woman stands by a road, waiting to cross as she leans lightly on her wheeled shopping bag for support. Traffic is constant, hissing farts of cars an ugly decoherent wall. Quietly, in the distance, a faint drumming begins, getting louder, throbbing, feeling like a tortuous growl in the bowel. People stop, cars stop and windows wind
down. There is a scream from the far end of the road, the crest of a hill, a man ragged and cut staggers with punch drunk walk, breath gulping in rasping sighs. His eyes flicker upwards to the sky in supplication, begging for strength to speak.
"The rabbits are coming," he says, falling to the ground. The panic spreads amongst the listeners with an instant of thought, shouts, "The bunnies are here," "Rabbits!" and cars hit panicked reverse, people run, the street clears. The old woman looks around at all this and shrugs; she crosses the road.

Thursday, July 01, 2004