What a nice day

Spent the day doing literally nothing else but poopin’ and gogglin’. First there was Dumbo, then I went out for today’s paper, then watched Misery, ate in the middle, then finished Lost In La Mancha on DVD, after which C4 broadcast Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. I also managed to squeeze in a few trips to the upstairs loo and leaf through some magazines during that. Frankly I could think of much worse ways of spending one’s holidays.

The week ahead

Owen and Dan left to visit Edinburgh for a couple of days. I borrowed Owen’s laptop for that time so that now I have unlimited access to movies.

Also: I woke up some time ago and accidentaly put on Sonja’s stretch pants. I look good in these, tee hee.

Stupid programmers

There must be a law against stupid tv programmers like the one at Channel 4 who has placed South Park, Family Guy, Futurama and King of the Hill back to back at 1 AM Saturday. What the hell is wrong with this person? I mean this is even worse than the Sunday afternoon spot MTV3 in Finland has traditionally used for the world’s best cartoons. Duh.

Thumbprint

Earlier today the clerk at Spar (indirectly) told me that I have a weird fingerprint.

Weather report

Should someone be wondering what the weather’s like here in Cardiff at this time of the year, let me tell you that right now it’s freezing. However this is something of an accident as the previous week was really warm, actually so warm that there were forest fires in parts of Wales (and elsewhere in the UK as well).

Compared to Finland it’s naturally warmer. For some reason it hasn’t been raining all that much or then I just haven’t been outside. When we arrived in January the weather was very much like the last weeks of Autumn in Finland. Somewhere around March or so it suddenly turned into a Spring, as you could clearly see trees trying to sprout new leaves and other greenish stuff like that.

But today I had to wear my woolly shirt inside cos it was so freaking cold. So in a concise form, anyone considering a Spring break in Cardiff should pack: an umbrella, a cool t-shirt, and a thick overcoat. That oughta get you through it.

Times ratings factoid

For some reason The Times Play magazine (the TV and radio guide supplement) ranks films, ”music” (meaning pop and jazz albums), movies, and games with stars whereas ”music” (ie. classical albums), dance, opera, theatre, books, and ”art” (what a pseudo-category) only get a written review.

Interestingly, in The Sunday Times Culture magazine gives star ratings to films and all cds, but not to theatre, opera, ”music” (read: concerts), or books.

Dumbo and PC

Isn’t it nice how in Dumbo, a movie that preaches equality and meritocracy, even though the different animals get along just fine, people are still segregated according to skin color? Next time you see the movie, take a closer look at the scene where they set up the circus tent in rain and tell me if you see black people anywhere else.

Microserfs

Douglas Coupland’s Microserfs is one of the zeitgeist novels of the 1990s and I know I’m terribly late in reading it. The good news is that time hasn’t destroyed it. In fact the book has stood the test of time (okay, less than a decade but still) and the passing of time has just accentuated how right Coupland got it.

Basically what happens is that a bunch of friends who work at Microsoft in the early 1990s decide to change jobs after one of them starts up his own company. Some things go well, others badly. There isn’t much of a plot as such, and if the story has a moral it’s one of basic human values, not about the hubris of the Silicon Valley (as in Dot.Con).

The best thing from a nerdish point of view like mine is that the technology jargon never fails. I kept turning pages in anticipation of the moment when the author’s lack of knowledge finally shows (as it did in Dot.Con) but with Microserfs that moment never comes. I must have been two thirds through the book before I realized that I had finally stopped waiting for the embarrassment to happen and was properly concentrating on other things.

Definitely worth a read, at least to check out what you missed by ten years if not for anything else. I lapped the book up in one go last Friday so I guess that counts as something. Recommended.

Fart question

Now that I got started on this whole bodily functions thing (might eventually need its own category) I have to wonder out loud when was the last time I farted just once? Is it normal to always let go two, three, or even four times in a row (admittedly if it’s anything more than three they aren’t farts more barely audible – and smellable – pops) ?

Quaz baby I’m thinking of you.

Pop jewel 13

Vocal heaven.

(#13) Sinéad O’Connor: Feel So Different

Album: I do not want what I haven’t got (1990)

The flame that was Sinéad O’Connor burned twice as bright for half as long. And now that the cliché quota’s been fulfilled, I can turn to the subject matter at hand. You see the best song on Sinéad’s hit album was not Nothing Compares 2 U (even though it shall eternally remain on my teenage years top 5) but the opening song, a small(ish) and heart-achingly beautiful Feel So Different.

The song has many things working in its favour. First there’s Sinéad’s voice, unsurpassed in the 90s. For someone who could easily go on an endless tirade of high-note self-pleasuring she sings with restraint that makes those bursts of power ever more enjoyable.

Second there’s the superb string instrumentation. Actually there’s nothing but Sinéad’s voice and the strings and this makes the end result doubly beautiful, as strings can have a truly human-like sound. Together the two create a breathing, living, organic sonic experience that isn’t muddled by the screeching of guitars or the strict punctuality of percussions. I know I always rant about the strings but here they aren’t just something one pours in to fill in the cracks, but the very essence of the song, the aural water in which the ethereal voice of Sinéad floats.

And it’s so wonderfully slow, so patient in building up for five minutes, before the song finally lets go, reaches a climax, and then comes down ever so slowly, wrapping up the piece in six minutes, thus creating a perfect package of stunning pop music from the very beginning of the 1990s. Should anyone sneer at the sound of the beginning of the decade, just play him/her this track.

A Heartbreaking ∞ of Staggering Genius

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