Saturday 21 February 2009

Wombat: a journey

I have just heard about a creature in Australia that would appear to be currently extinct (ahem) known as (ahem) the prodigiously girthed mega-wombat.

I am googling the mega wombat and finding 26 year old Seattle men. However, apparently there are models of the mega wombat in Sydney N.H. Museum. Here you can find a picture of the head of a common wombat. This is what the common wombat does when it is cranky, apparently. It would be hard to be aggravated by this, I think.

If you scroll down to the second item on this page, you will find a cute picture of wombat-human love, and also a story of a WOMBAT THE SIZE OF A CAR WHAT LIVED A LONG TIME AGO.

This is an artist's impression of a female mega wombat and her young, which is not cute but truly, awesome.

I don't know what you think about this, but I find it kind of mixed message, frankly. Many layered. Please don't get mixed up and barbecue your wombat.

Alright, it's time for you to meet Jody, the cutest thing that ever lived. Check her out scratching at the end. I try to keep this blog clear of excessive cute, but you know, when you do it, you've got to do it right.

Friday 20 February 2009

Eamon

There is another reason for turning the volume down on one of your facebook friends. It is because their status updates and comments and links and posts drive you crazy and you don't understand it but they make you feel tired, just to read them.

One such is a man I met in a garden in New York, on my last day in the city in 2003, until I returned almost four years later. He turned out to be my third cousin. Pretty remarkably closely related, his father and my grandmother were first cousins. This kind of detail matters to me, a lot. I have found a long-lost cousin in remarkable circumstances, in every place I have lived in, now.

My cousin in Denmark I had not met since we were both 2, in Limerick. I met him again when I performed at an arts festival in Denmark. As I left the stage, and the venue, he came running after me, shouting, "Lucy come back! It's your cousin, Brian!" He said I hadn't changed much since I was 2. He recognised me. Fucking Nora (Nora was the name of a grandaunt to both of us).

And this one in New York, we met in a garden, as I said, in the east village. He started talking to me, asking about where in Ireland I was from. His surname and my grandmother's were the same, and they came from the same place. That was an epiphany, a kinship made in the city, a sign to return. I have made some overtures toward contact, facebook being one of them. But he doesn't seem able to say hello. It is easier, I suppose, to click 'confirm' on a friend request in your inbox, from the safety of the distance of your familiar computer, than to meet the unknown yet blood related, in another human being.

He is a rocknroll musician and I think he is probably very lonely.

Thursday 19 February 2009

This is a video of a fox who has clearly fallen in love with this trampoline



There's been some talk of animals on trampolines lately over on my other home, clusterflock, which sent me in search of this. I think you will understand it was worth the quest.

Wednesday 18 February 2009

We come in peace


Michael Bosanko's light paintings.

Bosanko is a photographer who uses long exposures, coloured torches and deserted landscapes to literally paint with light, on his Canon digital. It's great to see something made with the potential of all those squiggly lined images you invariably get when you shoot flashless at night, especially with digital.

Monday 16 February 2009

The Facebook Post

I'm up to 15 people I've turned the volume down on, but do not want to unfriend, on facebook. I've muted them for different reasons. Some because I think it's just plain weird to be getting daily feeds about banalities from lives of people I don't know very well/am not hugely interested in, but there are also some I've detuned because they endlessly post soppy/sentimental status messages, and there are a couple of people I have initiated some kind of direct communication with, who haven't responded, so it seems weird to keep hearing about them in an exclusively passive way.

Kind of like that friend you had once with whom you used to have Very Long Phonecalls, where they talked Endlessly about their personal life, family, thoughts, random passing bullshit, and never really thought to ask you how you were, or allow any space between the inhalations to listen. But the cutesy messages probably bother me more. You know? It's like living in a world where people are really really tired all the time, but they think that if they are 'positive' about everything, that some of the bad shit will go away. I can't dig it.

And then there are the people who treat facebook like it is their personal sitcom and everybody is there to be their canned laughter. That's alright though, I mean facebook is not exactly Tolstoy.

I've only ever unfriended one person on facebook, in the 10 months I've had a profile on it. That was a dude who was always acting out his relationship on facebook. You know the sort of thing? Like the whole relationship was this fantasic fantasy of amazingness that had to be validated and posted about in a plethora of ways, daily. Mwa mwa my gorgeous darling girlfriend who I love love love mwa mwa so much every day I see you I think how gorgeous you are and you are the light of my life kind of thing. Nasty. I tried turning the volume down on him, but he still showed up in my feed. It was just a drag. It's also a lot to do with how many people you've friended. The fewer, the more they feature individually. You can also turn volume up on people. I haven't done that yet.

But the main thing about facebook is my vibe with it. I just can't seem to get enthusiastic about their status messages, which is reasonable enough when you get even slightly meta about it, but you know, I seem happy to ramble on on Twitter when the mood takes me. See, the thing is that the mood does take me on Twitter. It's just more of a conversation, an interaction. It's actually moderately interesting, sometimes. Though I'm still in Twitter for the potential rather than the actual yet, and I've been tweeting for a year now. But it's more chilled, more fun, less shouty.

But let's be honest. The whole thing is, of course, a load of bollocks.

Sunday 15 February 2009

Female title options in London


I bought some tickets for various shows in London a couple of weeks ago, and they all had a variety of interesting title options, you know, the mr/mrs/miss genre of name prefixes, but this list from the ENO (the opera) set my imagination on fire a bit.

Tickets for the Very Reverend Lucytakesoff, please.