Barcelona

Pictures of Barcelona. For your viewing pleasure. They say a picture says a thousand words, which I think is a bit of an exaggeration; it's more like 937, but anyway, here's the equivalent of 4,000 words.






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posted by danny @ 13:51, ,


Curses

Am watching Top 50 Tracks of 2007 on MTV 2 (sorry, MTV TWO since MTV's amazing and highly inventive new marketing campaign - who would have thought to change 2 into TWO?!)

I cannot believe how out of touch I am with music. I used to be a veritable fountain of knowledge, an erudite and recondite sage of musical wisdom. Now, I barely know half od the songs. We are only on number 46 at the moment though, so I suppose there might be a bit more obscurity at this end of the countdown. Also decided to finally get some reading done from the old reading list before uni. So far, about 10 pages of the Introduction to PL, and 40 from another book. One which has no bearing on the course at all :( Still, all reading must be helpful in a way. Or that's the hope. Not that anyone really reads this blog now, which, incidentally, is a HUGE shame, as the post about BCN Week was actually a very grown-up-serious-faced-eat-your-veggies type affair.

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posted by danny @ 06:15, ,


TSR

paronomasia ben trovato abecedarian micawber Profesh.

And sobriquet festschrift bildungsroman recondite Ferrus.

posted by danny @ 15:16, ,


the belle-lettrist


I have been letter writing. Well, not too often, just the once in fact, but it has been remarkably good fun. I wrote my letter outside when it was sunny with some fruit cider, and I felt like I was in the Raj or Raffles, corresponding with my extensive and loving wider family back home in jolly old blighty. I will certainly do it again. This being said, writing, by hand, is not the easiest of hobbies to take up. As a left hander, I have the permanent problem of finding a pen whose ink is thick enough to convey a certain manly, virile quality, but at the same time, not too thick lest I smudge it in all my left-handed glory and cover the page with inept finger paint splodges of ink. Of course, there has never been a doubt in my mind that black ink is the proper and right medium to write in, but others have different views. Suffice to say though that they are wrong.

Secondly. Plain or lined? Plain has a certain roguish charm to it; a certain youthful insouciance. One feels on reading a letter written on plain paper that the writer is unconcerned with frivolous fancies of order and neatness, and that their full creative juices would only be held back by those constrictive, prison-like bars. On the other hand, lined paper always ensures a clear presentation, with a variety of rules and margins avalible, and has a scholarly charm in it's exactness.

And then there is the content. A very tricky business indeed. Write too much and you have nothing better to do; write too little and you risk being translated as curt or standoffish. A flowing script may well be de rigeur with lovers and friends, but a more formal contact requires a seriousness in content and in the manner it is delivered.

So next time you write a letter: think. Letters are tangible, permanent things, not the emphereal e-mails so often used today, and as such are more than means of communication, but recorded histories, captured moments of people reaching out to one another in a more intimate way in the electronic-age. Bear all this in mind, and follow it to the letter (!) and you're sure to make a success of your next postal enterprise.

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posted by danny @ 04:03, ,


Jornalism for Cool People Who Are Bohemianly Self-Aware And Proud

Right. I got back from Barcelona today, and one of the last things I did in that great city was to pick up a free paper. BCN Week, a self-proclaimed 'alternative news weekly,' is not like the free newspapers I am used to acquiring like so much textual detritus in London, in that it is not shit. In fact, it is very far from that. Far from focusing on celebrity gossip, incidents of petty crime, and covering anyone who handles it with a distinctly grimy film of poorly printed ink; BCN Week, the July 12-25th tackles all sorts of intriguing, relevant stories.

This issue had a special interest in the state of art in Barcelona. As I write those words, 'the state of art in Barcelona,' it makes me feel as if I might be writing pessimistic headlines for the Mail, deploring anything vaguely interesting or innovative in exchange for rave reviews of populist tripe. BCN Weekly however tackles the subject from a deeply philosophical, intellectually grounded position. Exotically named contributors ponder such issues in a refreshingly varied and challenging style. 'Esteban Esteban' writes of the failure of a centralised agency to propel forward art, noting in a way only he could that,
'Today we find BCN regretfully sitting in the post coital afterglow, smeared in the face with its own jizm.'
Another writer, known simply as, 'Jordae' writes with a mildly pretentious but suitably trendy disregard for capitals.

Alongsinde these occassionaly erudite discussions are some quite marvellous shorts, which bring the paper right back into reality, and reassure the reader that the paper is not simply a talking shop for disaffected History post-grads, but a living, breathing entity; and most importantly one that, despite it's different flavours, manages a true cohesion. Among my favourite small features is an overheard in Barcelona column, where (admittedly dubious) quotes are picked up from a week in the city. Among my favourite is:
HOBO: Can you spare some change please?
HOBO MOCKER: No sorry, I spent it all on drugs and stinky glue to sniff.

The Astrology section is also suitably tongue in cheek. A quick glance down the page to check on Aquariu's reading reveals;
'Someone might steal your bike this week, or maybe the mirrors off your moto, someone might fuck your partner. Yes, I see the distinct possibility of you recieving a very close to the quick injury, one that takes your breath. Or what I see is you doing the stealing/fucking. Whatever happens, you'll be caught off your guard by odd behaviour, and it just might be your own.'

Alright, it's a bit edgy, but it's not crazily daring. And although it might give off a (faintly commercialised) smell of underground, it's not quite subversive phamplets. But bravo for a press where these newspapers are distributed throughout the city everyweek for free, unashamedly reporting the events of urban life in such an impressive and humorous style. It just goes to show, upfront and 'honest' reporting doesn't always mean unexamined right wing reporting, it can also mean sensible debate with a boheme twist. Bravo BCN Week. Now, why can't we have a paper like this in London!

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posted by danny @ 10:32, ,


Baththelona

I am going to Bercelona soon for a while, so there shan't be any updates for a little while. I am sure the readership is very distressed, but no doubt they will survive. Anywhoo, I have been packing, and it's actually been remarkably hard. After all my essentials, I am finding it difficult to make room for my replica lightsaber, bagpuss beanbag toy and collection of bottletops through the ages. I'm only away for about 4 days, but I am so far packing the following (baring in mind that I think it will be hot there and I shall want to change my shirt in the evening):


Does this seem a lot? I used to think I was a fairly reserved packer but I think that's a little laughable. I'm not sure where I am going to put it all. Perhaps I can stick some in someone elses bag? Sorry about how interesting this blog was, but it's very applicable. I will post some pictures of Baththelona when I return, tell you all about my antics.

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posted by danny @ 07:38, ,


Danny of Arabia

I really want to learn another language, but I'm not really sure how to start...I can't afford one of those fancy Rosetta Stone things, so I think I might go and buy a book with a CD or something. I really fancy being able to speak a cool language too. SOmethign that not many westerners can speak, and might swing my job application to MI6. How cool would a language have to be to tick all of these boxes, I hear you cry? Arabic cool. I doubt I will ever be able to do it, but I like to entertain my pipe dreams as if they had a serious shot at becoming reality. So, to help put me in the mood...pictures of arabian things.










Lawrence. He's my homeboy.















Prince Alalalaa-wa-Donkey Kong
















That's right. We may not be 'laconic,' but the bowler hat does satire too.

Ha.

posted by danny @ 09:59, ,


Heroes

Heroes is an American science fiction drama television series. But don't let that put you off. The show tells the story of several people who "thought they were like everyone else... until they woke with incredible abilities" such as telepathy, time travel and flight. These people soon realize they have a role in preventing a catastrophe and saving mankind. Incidentally, why is that genetic mutants in films and TV have amazingly useful and impressive abilities, as opposed to things like the ability to hold their breath for a rather long time, or the ability to have quite thick soled feet?



Anyway, I started watching this series on tv links, and although it can be a little bit hammy, I'm enjoying it. It doesn't suffer from that curious 'Lost' ailment of revealing so little each week that it rapidly becomes uninteresting, and the charachters are rather laughable, but as a result, quite loveable. My favourite of all is a rather hilarious if stereotyped Japanese man called Hiro. Of course, the show's producers take every opportunity to make not-quite-as-clever-as-they-sounded-in-your-head puns on Hiro's name, and the eponymous show's title. I would recommend it as post-luncheon type watching, quite entertaining, not too heavy, easy to catch up on, and not so addictive that you have to immediately watch all the other episodes.

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posted by danny @ 12:41, ,


giz a job...


I am very poor, and I haven't got a whole lot to do either. Those are my main two reasons for wanting a job. But can I get one? Oh no. The girl who sat next to me at TVU who didn't bother to write anything in her Moral Philosophy exam had a job, but I do not. I gave in 8 CV's / application forms today, and I was rather expecting to come home to an answering machine full of requests for me. But sadly this has not happened. I can tell you the difference between a dactyl a trochee and a spondee, the origin of the word oxymoron, or who won the Princess Elizabeth at HRR for the last 5 or 6 years running, but clearly this is not enough. Rubbish I say. I'm employment gold. Why will no one see this. Woe is me. I want to make money to travel to exotic climes, like the Shetland Islands, and Bognor Regis. How can I do it without a job though?

Basically, I'm in a bad bad mood. I feel substantially overqualified for the majority of jobs I have applied for, academically and in terms of personal charachter, and while I know I don't have much experience, I'm willing to learn and quite quick off the mark, but none of that really matters if I can't get one. I would clean toilets. I really would I want the cash so bad. Sigh....

posted by danny @ 08:45, ,


Hey diddle diddle

I'm too tired to do anything properly. Here is a random video from my favourites then. None of this chatter beforehand.

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posted by danny @ 02:14, ,


Creation Science - surely an oxymoron?

Argh Creationists. I think they are rubbish.

No but seriously. They are lame. What makes us people is that we are self-conscious and rational. For me, faith in a God is a betrayal of our rational aspect. I am not convinced by any argument for God, telelogical, ontological or cosmological. I accept that science is not indubitable knowledge, but it has an awful lot of support for it. As hypotheses go, it's probably a good bet.

I went to a Christian Union meeting about a month ago as they were having a lecture called, 'Why there is a God.' Pretty loaded title. The guy leading it was completely blind to debate though, and I was so disenchanted, having gone in with an open mind, ready to hear what would be said. His defence of God ended up with him saying no one would really be able to understand and accept this 'truth' until they let God into their hearts. I told him this was essentially a tautology, that we would only believe in God when we beleived in God, but he just mumbled something about faith.

Still, I would rather kids in America get taught Creationism and Evolutionism side by side then not got taught about contraception at all.

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posted by danny @ 03:33, ,


ZOMG BNTM!!!11!

Arghh. I have been ill for the last week or so. I'm pretty sure it's going now, but it's not been cool. I had a date yesterday, and my nose was streaming, it's not a good look. Also it has meant no skipping, which has been annoying. Luckily all the free time stuck on the couch has meant time to catch up on Wimbeldon. All 42 minutes that have been played allowing rain.

Episode 4: A New Hope (for modelling)

Today I am going to talk about Next Top Model. I feel it is very applicable, given that the latest cycle of Britain's Next Top Model has recently started. I don't know if you watch it, nor do I know if watching it puts a dark mark next to my sexuality, but I watched the first episode, and I clearly like that Lucy charachter the best. Because she is FIT.



FIT in huge gaping, HOLLYWOOD-esque 40 foot letters splayed up on some glamarous hillside. It helps she is a redhead too. Incidentally, I am actively pursuing a redhead girl at the moment. Who is also incredibly fit. I envisage my life as a kind of TV series, Danny's Next Top Girlfriend perhaps. Be honest, you'd would blatantly watch it and enjoy it.

Anyway, this is all mildly relevant to this clip which I have on offer today. It's a bit of a joke at America's Next Top Model expense, when Tyra Banks the presenter really lost it. Although the Family Guy version is, as ever, reassuringly bizarre.

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posted by danny @ 09:43, ,


I've got a brand new combine harvester

Episode 3: Revenge of Tractor Boy

No words really needed here..


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posted by danny @ 05:23, ,