Archive for 2012

Introspective Video

Just got this done to my shoulder. Arthroscopy is cool, thought the stabilisation procedure seems pretty crude. Don’t watch if you’re squeamish!

@ Frieze

Beautiful diptych from Eric Baudelaire, composed like a renaissance master.

Money changes hands. Apparently an alcove that size costs around £40,000. For the weekend.


1MB = $339.8

It’s a Family Affair

Jane’ll Fix It

An inspiring and insightful talk from Irish inventor Jane Ni Dhulchaointigh on fixing and fixers.
(I don’t usually gush)

How to brand.

This video is beautifully shot and produced. Still not wearing DCs though.


I do love a nice heli pic.

The Wallander

Kenneth Brannagh makes a good stab at Wallander but the writing lets him down and Krister Henriksson already owns the character.


And go NASA for getting Curiosity down in one piece.

Product Journey

Diagram from an eBay shipper’s page. You are the customer. 

Furniture Design, Iraq

Still from Lessons of Darkness. Herzog ’92

The Wild East

A Russian spokeswoman interviewed on the BBC this morning about the Olympic Opening Ceremony was very proud of the fact that they had the 3rd largest team at the games. They are right up there in the brutal regime stakes too.  

The Attitude Era

Scenes from a late-stage empire. 

Grime Invective

So I hear you like big mini skirts’, grime MCs from London laying down a stream of hate, power and humour. Pretty amazing if a bit sore on the ears.


Come friendly bombs and fall on Slough! 
It isn’t fit for humans now, 
There isn’t grass to graze a cow.
Swarm over, Death! 

Come, bombs and blow to smithereens 
Those air -conditioned, bright canteens, 
Tinned fruit, tinned meat, tinned milk, tinned beans, 
Tinned minds, tinned breath.

Mess up the mess they call a town- 
A house for ninety-seven down 
And once a week a half a crown 
For twenty years. 

And get that man with double chin 
Who’ll always cheat and always win, 
Who washes his repulsive skin 
In women’s tears: 

And smash his desk of polished oak 
And smash his hands so used to stroke 
And stop his boring dirty joke 
And make him yell. 

But spare the bald young clerks who add 
The profits of the stinking cad; 
It’s not their fault that they are mad, 
They’ve tasted Hell. 

It’s not their fault they do not know 
The birdsong from the radio, 
It’s not their fault they often go 
To Maidenhead

And talk of sport and makes of cars 
In various bogus-Tudor bars 
And daren’t look up and see the stars 
But belch instead. 

In labour-saving homes, with care 
Their wives frizz out peroxide hair
And dry it in synthetic air 
And paint their nails. 

Come, friendly bombs and fall on Slough 
To get it ready for the plough. 
The cabbages are coming now; 
The earth exhales.

John Betjeman 1937