Brian Micklethwait's Blog
In which I continue to seek part time employment as the ruler of the world.
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Most recent entries
- Brian Micklethwait’s New Blog starts now
- Now you see it now you don’t â then you do again
- Quimper Cathedral photos from a year ago
- Another symptom of getting old
- Quota photo of a signpost
- Three professional Japanese footballers play against one hundred children
- Sculptures and scaffolding
- There is no day that can’t be improved by seeing pictures of how they weigh an owl
- Meeting Oscar again
- A musical metaphor is developed
- Mobile phone photoing in 2004
- France is big
- Pink windscreen
- Just kidding
- Capitalism and socialism in tweets
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Category archive: The internet
Yes, telling you about how I’ve been in France.
So. where was I? In France? Well, to give you an idea, here are some of the excellent places I visited:
Whenever I am in foreign parts, I always photo signs, adverts, and the like. Every place has its own style for doing such things, so signage photos can be very evocative, when you look back at them. Also, they tell you where you were, and hence what all the other photos taken at the same time were of.
Click on the above photo-fragments to get some context. If you are curious about any of these places, well, you now have the words you need to go searching. Words are already links, in the sense that you don’t need me to turn them into links.
I especially like how, when you leave a French town or village, you get a sign with the name crossed through with a red line (2.3).
I also photo war memorials, keeping a particular eye open for repeated surnames. In Lagrasse (3.1), Baillat, Fontvieille and Jougla are surnames that each get two mentions.
I also like to photo the stuff in tourist shops, especially the postcards (1.1 and 3.2). That way, you get what tourists generally consider to be the best views, and are alerted to interesting local things which you otherwise might miss even learning about. Although, in St Cyprien, I got a bit of aggro from a couple shopkeepers who objected to me photoing their produce instead of buying it.
From comedian Johnnie Casson:
“You’ve put on weight, Johnnie.”
Johnnie Casson: “I’ve had a lot on my plate.”
Me too, lately. Like I said, brief and perfunctory.
I don’t know where this was. Someone was sitting there with his laptop, with headphones on, and he started laughing. The rest of us demanded an explanation.
These are technically terrible photos, but I had a lot of fun photoing them, and I get a lot of pleasure when I stumble upon such photos-from-airplanes in the photo-archives. What are these exactly?:
Well, I cranked up Google Maps, and also maps like the one here, and set to work. That photos have exact timings attached to them is very helpful when you are trying to work out what photos from airplanes are of.
And yes, those are the four big-name Channel Islands, TopLeft: Jersey, TopRight: Guernsey, BottomLeft: Alderney, BottomRight: Sark.
I reckon that Alderney, from that angle, looks a bit like a hippo.
But for me, the most intriguing puzzle was this:
What is that? Turns out, it’s the island of Herm. Herm’s sales pitch: There’s no place like Herm. Herm, island of triangular stamps.
Never heard of it, until now. Photo and learn. Blog and learn.
The designated starting point of my walk beside the river last Monday was Assembly (that being a photo of Assembly being assembled), the sculpture assembly outside the Woolwich Arsenal next to the river:
Those are some of the photos I photoed, and they are pretty much the photos everyone else photos of these metal men, and pretty much the same as the photos I photoed when last I visited these men. That was in April 2011. It doesn’t feel like it was that long ago, which I think is because these metal men, once seen, are not soon forgotten.
Assembly is the work of Peter Burke. My googling skills are such that I often have to have several goes at a subject before I find my way to the stuff that I find the most informative and interesting. I can just about remember visiting the Peter Burke website, but I don’t recall ever reading this biography of Peter Burke before. Nor do I recall learning that this Assembly assembly began life somewhere else. Or maybe he did an Assembly for that rural setting, and then did another Assembly for outside the Woolwich Arsenal. Yes, probably that. Burke is big on mass production, like his contemporary and mate (apparently) Gormley.
And, I certainly never watched this video of Peter Burke speaking until now. As with all artists talking about their work, I see rather little connection between what he says about his work and what the work says to me. But at least what he says is mostly accurate, in that he mostly describes how he made it. There is hardly any pretentious art-speak bollocks of the sort that would get him sneered at at Mick Hartley‘s.
A key to why I like Peter Burke is that before he started doing art he was a Rolls Royce engineer, working on aero-engines. He liked and still likes how stuff like that looks. Snap. Unlike me, from then on, he knew how to make it.
But someone could do all the things Peter Burke describes himself doing when he does his art and produce art that says nothing to me at all. Insofar as he does describe what he thinks his art actually means, he pretty much loses me. Which might explain why I only like some of his art, such as Assembly.
What I get from Assembly, as well as the obvious military vibes I wrote about in that 2011 posting, is something to do with stoicism, emotional self-control, being a man, being a man under extreme pressure while keeping your manly cool. Even to the point of looking rather comical while doing all this.
On June 13th 2008 I was wandering about in Quimper, photoing photos. Mostly the photos were of such things as Quimper Cathedral with its twin spires, photoers photoing Quimper Cathedral with its twin spires, that kind of thing.
But in among all those, and with no accompanying explanation (like a context photo with less zoom (memo to self: always photo a context photo if it might help)), this:
KanaBeach seems to be some sort of Brittany based clothing brand ("Kanabeach est une entreprise de vêtements bretonne"), which a few years later seems to have crashed and burned, after which catastrophe it may or may not have made a recovery. (A recovery attempt which involved a giraffe, for some reason.)
But, I have no idea who Jean-Francois Kanabeach is. And I am similarly baffled by the Nuclear Rabbits From Outta Space. Google’s basic reaction to that was, first off, to ask if I meant “Nuclear Rabbits From Outer Space”.
A rabbit was, so it says here, launched into space in 1959. And the Chinese did some stuff on the Moon in 2013, with something called the Jade Rabbit (aka Yutu). But Nuclear Rabbits, from Outta Space? Quesque c’est? Usually the Internet has something to say in answer to questions like this. But in this matter, rien.
Yesterday, being ill made me think of food, because I wasn’t eating any food.
Today, what I am most feeling the lack of is body fitness. So, this:
Spotted by me in Stoke Newington last week.
As you can see, there’s a website. Interesting how she says that it’s a “sports industry”.
I assume that Lana wants to be noticed, or why would she should drive about in such a very noticeable vehicle?
One of the things explained in the article linked to in the previous posting is that product placement often happens in a quite subtle way, without the brand being spelt out clearly, for everyone to see. Street art adverts can be part of a campaign, and the street art bit only makes sense if you also notice the rest of that campaign.
So, for instance, is this, also spied in Bermondsey by me the day before yesterday, also some kind of advert?:
Maybe.
I googled “red chameleon” and found two books both called that, but no other products. No beer. No deodorant. No dating site for psycho-communists.
So, maybe it’s just a painting, of a red chameleon.
LATER: And it would appear that these are just flamingos:
I also saw them on my Stoke Newingtonian travels.
Both the flamingos and the red chameleon are, it would seem, the work of Frankie Strand. That she signed the chameleon was a clue. And a little googling got me to her particular fondness also for flamingos.
When I saw and photoed this sign, in London, yesterday afternoon â¦:
â¦, I thought it was some kind of electronic malfunction. ULEZ? Is that real? Only one way to find out. The Internet.
And the Internet was in no doubt. ULEZ stands for Ultra Low Emission Zone. Question answered.
I just wanted to know if ULEZ was real. It is. The details, for now anyway, interest me less. If you want to know more about ULEZ, you now have the acronym and the knowledge that it stands for something real, and you can learn all you want.
Genius. That, I respect very much.
And:
Almost a Friday cat post. Almost.
It would be in keeping with this to backdate this posting here to last night. That way, I’d have linked to his posting today, yesterday.
It’s only games.
The Park Tower Knightsbridge Hotel is what Wikipedia calls it. Sheraton now calls it the Sheraton Park Hotel. Whatever we call it, this is one of my favourite London buildings from the concrete monstrosity era, partly because nobody who worries about being aesthetically elevated likes the work of its architect Richard Seifert. Such people also do not like One Kemble Street, or Centre Point, also by Seifert, either. Too commercial. Too brash. Too assertive. Too symmetrical. Starchitecture before Starchitecture became chic, and not chic enough.
All the photos you see on the internet of this Park Hotel tend to look like this ...:
⦠i.e. photoed from nearby, so that you can’t see the magnificence of the Roof Clutter on the top.
So now I will correct this regrettable imbalance, by inserting these views of the Park Hotel photoed by me last Friday from way off in the middle of Hyde Park, into the vast ocean of internet imagery, in the hope that public attention will be drawn to this wonderful and spontaneous assemblage of roof sculpture:
I especially like that last one. Trees, mist, and then Park Hotel, in soft focus. Or, out of focus, as we digital snappers say.
Norman castles were evil stone monstrosities when first inflicted upon this green and pleasant land. But as that style retreated, they turned into picturesque ruins. The Concrete Monstrosity style is already in headlong retreat, and I like it more and more.
Memo to self: check out this car park, before they destroy it, which they have now decided that they will.
This afternoon I was in Bermondsey, seeing a man about a blog, and without doubt, the oddest photo I took in my Bermondsey wanderings today was this one, of a garage door:
Here is a closer up view of the writing at the bottom:
Click to get that a lot more legible.
Do you care about this? It made me smile, but I really do not care if it is true. If you do, and haven’t already acquainted yourself with this tale and made up your mind about it, then read this, which merely reports on the claim (made in 2008 by a mate of Tommy Steele’s), or this, which is more scornful, or this, which is very scornful indeed. Elvis did fleetingly visit Scotland, apparently, but was stuck at the airport. The most scornful of these reports is Scottish, assuming that I am correct in believing “Shields” to be in Scotland. Can’t have the damn Sassenachs steeling their thunder. Ho, ho.
Rather surprisingly, I only found one other photo featuring what I photoed today, here. But that could just reflect my inadequacy as an internet searcher.
Being logical about it, there are five Six Nations weekends each year, during which each of the Six Nations plays all the other Five Nations, and there are forty seven Six Nationsless weekends. But Six Nationalists like me know which weekends I am talking about. I’m talking about the one between week 2 and week 3 and the one between week 3 and week 4. The Six Nations is happening. But, it’s not. The Six Nations is under way. But it’s stuck. I have just endured the first of these two weird ordeals.
But in between these two black holes of non-Six Nationsness, the key game of this year’s entire Six Nations, Wales v England will be happening, in Cardiff. Both England and Wales have won their first two games, and only they can each still win a Grand Slam. England, with their three South Sea Island hulks playing, have been unbeatable, so far. And they have many times started out unbeatably against Wales. But then the Welsh play catch-up rugby, which is a game that they, unlike any other Six Nation these days, can actually play, and they often then win, despite England’s scrum being on top for the whole game. So I am taking nothing for granted. Especially when you consider that England will have only one Vunipola playing, the other one having hurt himself against France, as earlier noted here. But England will have a Tuilagi playing, in addition to the surviving Vunipola, so I just about fancy them to win.
Meanwhile, how did I survive the recently concluded weekend? Well, there were two good cricket matches to be following. There was an amazing test match between South Africa and Sri Lanka, which SL won by one wicket, following an unbeaten last wicket stand of 78, and what was clearly a wonderful 153 not out by their wicketkeeper Kusal Perera.
Here’s a picture of Perera celebrating that amazing win:
But, note those empty seats. I wonder how many people actually paid to be present at this game. Rather few, if that’s anything to go by. People are now saying, as they have been for many years, that Test Cricket is dying. But it keeps being interesting, in a way that the other crickets now played can’t ever really match, any more than a number one pop song can quite match a Bruckner Symphony. That’s if you like Bruckner symphonies.
The other good cricket game was one of those other crickets games, the final (finally) of the Big Bash League, contested between the Melbourne Poisonous Spiders and the Melbourne Big Hairy Bastards. Or some such belligerently metaphorical contestants. It was definitely Melbourne v Melbourne. Melbourne won, but not before Melbourne had looked certain to win but then suddenly collapsed, allowing Melbourne to snatch the trophy.
The two semi-finals having happened on Thursday and Friday mornings, I was up promptly on Sunday morning to follow this game. But it happened in the Australian afternoon instead of in the evening, and it was all done when I clicked in. Oh well. It was fun to read about.
The weather outside is again really nice, but it’s wasted on me and my camera. Because, it’s Spurs v Leicester on the internet, England v Windies on the internet, and England v France on the TV. Football, cricket, rugby. How can a man ignore all that? Well, maybe “a man” could, but I can’t. Spurs have beaten Leicester (and now Man City are crushing Chelsea); and the Windies have got England back on the floor in the cricket (where England have been all series). As a test cricket fan I am glad that the Windies getting back into the swing of doing that well. For a while now, it has seemed that their only talent was for the limited overs stuff.
And, England are crushing (crunching) France, although a few French tries at the end would not surprise me. Two out of three is not bad
The first weekend of this year’s Six Nations was great, but the second, now nearing its end, has been rather flat. Ireland got back on the horse against Scotland yesterday, and Italy, as they do, lost. Now England are doing what all the commentators said they’d do to France, following their great win over Ireland last weekend. The charm of the Six Nations is how unpredictable it can be. On the first weekend France got beaten by Wales after being 16 ahead at half time. Italy got no less than three late tries against Wales when they were looking down and out, which was a definite surprise. When England got the final try to settle it against Ireland, the commentator said: Who saw this coming? Not me. But so far this weekend, it’s all gone with the not-especially-smart money. France are now 36 behind, so even if they get five late tries, they’ll still lose. It’s all looking a bit “waiting for the end” just now. The serious business of the game was being sorted when England got their four first half tries, which meant that their bonus points, for four tries and for winning by more than seven, were both settled, along with the win. Can England get over 50 points against France? Maybe, but it doesn’t feel like it matters. Yes, a commentator has just said: “The match has rather fallen asleep.” Indeed it has. The most important moment of this match may prove to be when one of the Vunipolas walked off injured.
Anyway, it’s over now. 44-8 England. Plus, when I was trying to find a report on England crunching France, I came across our Ladies crunching their Ladies.
The England men, meanwhile, have been transformed by their returning-from-injury South Sea Islanders, the Vunipola brothers and Manu Tuilagi.
Tuilagi is odd, in that he is pronounced Tooey Langy. Except by Jonathan Davies of course, who says Tooey Largy. Davies also says Viney Polar instead of Vooney Polar. The world needs to find a way to mispronounce “Jonathan Davies”, and keep on doing that until he learns his job.
But, hello. What’s this? The Windies 59-4 (after being 57-0!), replying to England’s 277. Two wickets in two balls to Moheen. Two more wickets in two more balls to Mark Wood, who I didn’t realise was playing. By the sound of it (i.e. from reading the Cricinfo chat), Wood should have been in the England side from the beginning. Only four wickets on day one. Ten wickets already on day two, and it’s not yet tea time.
It is now! Windies 74-5. Another to Wood. “England are rampant.”
There was a meeting in my home last Friday, at which Simon Gibbs spoke, most eloquently and engagingly, about “What Libertarian Home Has Done Right”. (I made him choose this title. He is far too modest to have chosen it himself.)
Also on Friday, at this blog, I had already featured a cat photo, taken by my friend Dominique Lazanski.
What I had not expected was that Dominique Lazanski would get a mention in Simon’s talk, but she did. Very favourably, as a Libertarian Home speaker who did much to soften the atmosphere of a series of meetings that might otherwise have remained rather beery and blokey and not sufficiently female friendly or, to use a word Simon likes a lot and which he himself epitomises, not “kind”. Libertarianism is, after all, all about making the world better, which definitely includes kinder.
I had been intending to put up more than one Dominique photo on Friday, but meeting preparations meant that only the cat made it, that day. Here are all the other photos I had already liked and set aside for here, along with a photo of a cup of coffee, which I added to the collection to get the number back to a convenient one:
Click and enjoy. Most of these little squares are mere excerpts from the originals, so you will have to click to enjoy. But even if that doesn’t appeal, the basic point here is that Dominique Lazanski is, like many others these days, someone who combines taking very good photos with having a very full life doing other things besides taking photos.
This is the big photography story these days. This big story is not how good the very best photographers, the Real Photographers as I refer to them here, are at taking photos and how very, very good their very best photos are. No. The big photography story these days is how good people like Dominique Lazanski are at taking photos.
To find out more of who Dominique Lazanski is, go to her website, or to here Twitter feed. To explore all her Instagrammed photos, go here, that being where I encountered all of the above photos myself.
I chose my favourites, partly by particularly noticing the last two and the most recent of the above photos when they showed up on Facebook. In addition to being a Dominique Lazanski friend I am a Dominique Lazanski “friend” on Facebook. And the rest I found by simply clicking through all of her Instagrammed photos very fast, and noticing which ones I found myself pausing at.
Those drinks are included because I drank one of them myself, on Christmas Eve.
It could be that I am mishandling the Social Media, again, and spilling beans that are not mine to spill. If Dominique finds out about this posting and informs me that she regrets it and would prefer to be living in a world which did not contain it, then this posting will be expunged forthwith.



































