Saturday, February 23, 2013
Thursday, February 21, 2013
A Non-V Movie
Yesterday I went to see Life of Pi. I suppose given the tiger content it was predictable that I would. But I knew animals were going to come to grief, so I'd been resisting. I decided not to read the book for the same reasons.
But the pressure from others became too great, so when the opportunity arose, I took it.
Certainly some of the 3D special effects were staggering, but I found I got used to the 3d-ness fairly quickly, and the glasses, on top of my own, were quite uncomfortable and very heavy. I don't mind not seeing any more 3D films for a while!
On balance I enjoyed it, though. And the young actor playing Pi gave a real tour-de-force performance, completely carrying the movie. He should be getting all sorts of awards.
But the pressure from others became too great, so when the opportunity arose, I took it.
Certainly some of the 3D special effects were staggering, but I found I got used to the 3d-ness fairly quickly, and the glasses, on top of my own, were quite uncomfortable and very heavy. I don't mind not seeing any more 3D films for a while!
On balance I enjoyed it, though. And the young actor playing Pi gave a real tour-de-force performance, completely carrying the movie. He should be getting all sorts of awards.
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
Sunday, February 17, 2013
Friday, February 15, 2013
Thursday, February 14, 2013
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
The London Underground Map
Anyone who's braved the London Underground will be familiar with the underground map. It's stylish and geometric, but it bears no resemblance to the geography above.
This wasn't always the case. At first, the tube map was as if superimposed ona a map of central London, just like the Paris Metro.
In 1931 a man called Harry Beck started to play around with the map, and though there have been departures in between, his basic idea of using no angle less than 45 degrees persists, making this huge, complex and still expanding network comprehensible in a way that spaghetti on a street map would not.
I'm hoping it will get bigger if you click on it...
In 1931 a man called Harry Beck started to play around with the map, and though there have been departures in between, his basic idea of using no angle less than 45 degrees persists, making this huge, complex and still expanding network comprehensible in a way that spaghetti on a street map would not.
I'm hoping it will get bigger if you click on it...
Tit, Tit, Hooray!
Today I went to the hospital breast clinic to enquire about having my boobs reduced. Since many of those waiting were fearful of cancer diagnoses, I was feeling fortunate.
By the time I left I was smiling.
There would not be days in hospital, just an overnight stay, and no need for immobility, just a firm sports-style bra.
To get this done under the NHS you must first convince the specialist that it is needed for health reasons (just ask my shoulders, they'll convince anyone!) This doctor was not difficult to convince.
But the system to pay for this has changed. It used to be a Primary Care Trust that had to agree, and they often declined because it is usually seen as a cosmetic procedure. Now GPs hold the funds, and as my GP referred me, I can't imagine I'll be turned down. I hope.
Being as my nipples have, as the doctor said, "gone south" they will have to be repositioned, and there may be some resultant necrosis. (Hell, leave the bastards off altogether for all I care!)
The closest I could find of a likeness to my own boobs online was the "before" picture below, though mine are bigger. I hope the "after" will be even smaller - B cup, maybe?
There would not be days in hospital, just an overnight stay, and no need for immobility, just a firm sports-style bra.
To get this done under the NHS you must first convince the specialist that it is needed for health reasons (just ask my shoulders, they'll convince anyone!) This doctor was not difficult to convince.
But the system to pay for this has changed. It used to be a Primary Care Trust that had to agree, and they often declined because it is usually seen as a cosmetic procedure. Now GPs hold the funds, and as my GP referred me, I can't imagine I'll be turned down. I hope.
Being as my nipples have, as the doctor said, "gone south" they will have to be repositioned, and there may be some resultant necrosis. (Hell, leave the bastards off altogether for all I care!)
The closest I could find of a likeness to my own boobs online was the "before" picture below, though mine are bigger. I hope the "after" will be even smaller - B cup, maybe?
Monday, February 11, 2013
Sunday, February 10, 2013
Fire With Fire 7
Nasty and jubilant.
I think we need a study of whether the tats are on his skin or a fake skin has been applied. Can't see any chest hair.
I think we need a study of whether the tats are on his skin or a fake skin has been applied. Can't see any chest hair.
Saturday, February 09, 2013
Friday, February 08, 2013
Thursday, February 07, 2013
The Gentle Art of Love
Beano and Mitzi just adore each other. They spend lots of time cuddled up together snugly.
The vet was so clever when he removed Beano's right eye 13 years ago - it just looks like it's closed.
On the other hand, Jae Jae the Sumatran tiger has no idea how to entice his lady Melati. Just prior to this clip, he had pounced on her, much to her distaste. So then he tried a ploy equally unlikely to succeed. (You may want to reduce the volume, there were a few noisy children watching.)
See how tiny she is compared to him?
The vet was so clever when he removed Beano's right eye 13 years ago - it just looks like it's closed.
On the other hand, Jae Jae the Sumatran tiger has no idea how to entice his lady Melati. Just prior to this clip, he had pounced on her, much to her distaste. So then he tried a ploy equally unlikely to succeed. (You may want to reduce the volume, there were a few noisy children watching.)
See how tiny she is compared to him?
Wednesday, February 06, 2013
Odds and Sods, Cabbages and Kings
Thanks to our wonderful "traffic calming" methods in London, I regularly have to abuse my car by going over ridiculously large road humps (unaffectionately known as "sleeping policemen"), and recently the clunking has been worrying me.
A call yesterday to the RAC and I found myself being towed to the Nissan dealership to have a broken coil spring replaced.
But not on the same day. Nissan dealerships apparently don't carry Nissan parts, and when they order them, they take some days to arrive. Eventually we agreed on a clone piece (and then a new battery, you know how it goes) but I would get it back this morning.
No. No call. No apology. No more me for a customer. And a bill for over £280.
But one of the more surreal and interesting news items of the week is the fate of good old Dick The Shit (Richard The Turd, geddit?) who died in 1485 at the Battle of Bosworth Field. He was buried at Greyfriars church in Leicestershire, central England, but the church is long gone. So some of his fans - those particularly who think he was maligned by Shakespeare and did not murder the two little princes in the Tower before usurping their throne - have been hunting down the whereabouts of his remains. Old maps proved that the site of the church was now under the car park of a council building.
One parking space bizarrely had a letter R painted on it (for reserved, presumably) and Dick's top fan stood there and got a funny feeling. When the archaeological dig began, bones were found under that parking space. The woman was disappointed to find that the body had severe scoliosis, and like other Richardists she did not believe the slander of the hunchback. But they dug him up. They scanned him. They radio-carbon dated him. They did a facial reconstruction. And they found a 17th generation descendant of his sister for a DNA test. Guess what? It's him! Unbelievable!
But not on the same day. Nissan dealerships apparently don't carry Nissan parts, and when they order them, they take some days to arrive. Eventually we agreed on a clone piece (and then a new battery, you know how it goes) but I would get it back this morning.
No. No call. No apology. No more me for a customer. And a bill for over £280.
But one of the more surreal and interesting news items of the week is the fate of good old Dick The Shit (Richard The Turd, geddit?) who died in 1485 at the Battle of Bosworth Field. He was buried at Greyfriars church in Leicestershire, central England, but the church is long gone. So some of his fans - those particularly who think he was maligned by Shakespeare and did not murder the two little princes in the Tower before usurping their throne - have been hunting down the whereabouts of his remains. Old maps proved that the site of the church was now under the car park of a council building.
One parking space bizarrely had a letter R painted on it (for reserved, presumably) and Dick's top fan stood there and got a funny feeling. When the archaeological dig began, bones were found under that parking space. The woman was disappointed to find that the body had severe scoliosis, and like other Richardists she did not believe the slander of the hunchback. But they dug him up. They scanned him. They radio-carbon dated him. They did a facial reconstruction. And they found a 17th generation descendant of his sister for a DNA test. Guess what? It's him! Unbelievable!
Richard's portrait
Reconstruction
Reconstruction.
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