The unruly people at VillagePhotos disabled my (free) account, and the very attractive photo in my Blogger profile disappeared. I cock my snoot at them. The very attractive photo is now hosted by the lovely people at PhotoBucket, with whom I anticipate a long and frabjous free-account relationship. Perhaps I should start by uploading an even-more attractive photo.
Today is a sad day as I bow to the inevitable and logoff my HATTRICK account for the last time. I put Gundolf Wimberwepper up for sale, fired my longest-serving player and will let the rest of the "players" play out their time without me. It's been fun and I recommend Hattrick to anyone who quite likes that kind of thing, but I just don't have the TIME.
Anyone for winky-kinkies?
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
Monday, September 19, 2005
Friday, September 09, 2005
Three things
Here are three things I want to see, all utterly different, all available to me, all proof that the ice is still thick enough, for now:
* The Persians at the British Museum.
* Henri Rousseau at Tate Britain.
* "Howl's Moving Castle", a new film by Hayao Miyazaki who made "Spirited Away", one of my All-Time Favourite Films.
* The Persians at the British Museum.
* Henri Rousseau at Tate Britain.
* "Howl's Moving Castle", a new film by Hayao Miyazaki who made "Spirited Away", one of my All-Time Favourite Films.
Thursday, September 08, 2005
Thin Ice
We're all skaters on the pond-ice that is civilisation. For most of us in the West it feels solid and good beneath the feet.
When did you last feel the ice cracking? Was it during a power-cut? Was it while you were in a queue on a motorway, unable to move? On a train or waiting for one that didn't come? In the airport or on a 'plane? In a crowd of people, stuck, powerless? These things are trivial, but through them you can sometimes feel or intuit the terror of the cold water beneath, and this piece by Timothy Garton Ash says a lot about the world to come.
When did you last feel the ice cracking? Was it during a power-cut? Was it while you were in a queue on a motorway, unable to move? On a train or waiting for one that didn't come? In the airport or on a 'plane? In a crowd of people, stuck, powerless? These things are trivial, but through them you can sometimes feel or intuit the terror of the cold water beneath, and this piece by Timothy Garton Ash says a lot about the world to come.
Greatest Painting Vote
In fine Boggins loser tradition, my preference, for which I voted at least 01 (one) times, came last. (If you don't know what I'm on about click the heading to this post).
My and everyone's personal favourite - if they are being truly honest with themselves - was scandalously not shortlisted due to snobbery and malice.
My and everyone's personal favourite - if they are being truly honest with themselves - was scandalously not shortlisted due to snobbery and malice.
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