Just spotted by me (remember I’ve been kind of off the radar for a year) – a couple of intriguing looking books around the whole weblogging thing. First off there’s a kids book called The Secret Blog of Raisin Rodriguez by Judy Goldschmidt, which looks like it’s supposed to be a kids book for nine year-olds. I’m kind of delighted and slightly horrified by the way that authors are picking up on the concept of weblogs and incorporating them into their narratives. Can’t quite tell if I think it’s about reflecting the reality of children or if it’s more about trying to look cool and hip for the young-folk. Who – if I recall correctly from the pre-cambrian period when I was a child – tend to think that trying to look cool for the young-folk is pretty much the lamest thing any human being on earth can do. Anyone read it?
The other book is called Blog by Hugh Hewitt. I have absolutely no idea what it’s like, but I guess if you wanted some slightly alarmist context, he’s also the author of In, But Not Of: A Guide to Christian Ambition and the incredibly subtly named If It’s Not Close, They Can’t Cheat: Crushing the Democrats in Every Election and Why Your Life Depends on It. I have this sneaking feeling that I might not agree with many of the opinions of this man on – say – pretty much anything ever. But if someone out there goes and buys it and informs me that it’s not about how you can burn gay people with your weblog, then I’ll probably still give it a shot…
A week or two ago I put out an appeal for my childhood favourite biscuits, and now I have Nico Lumma to thank for the appearance of packet upon packet of the beautiful things. Thanks dude!
Anyway, the consequence of this is – of course – that Paul and I spent a good hour writing rude words in biscuit letters and posting pictures of it all to Flickr. I would ask you to remember that even the most bright and professional of individuals occasionally suffers from loud and aggravating brain-farts and that the polite thing to do would be for you all to feign amusement and wait until the mood passes. I thank you.
There are more – I’m ashamed to say – on my Flickr photostream.
I had a dream last night about a beautiful tower that no one could see on a suburban street, and the strange alien called Coypew that lived there. He could see the future so he told parents to euthanise children who were about to suffer terrible deaths by putting them in cars and pushing the cars out into the ocean. It seemed like the best thing to do, and everyone liked him because what he said seemed so right, but that he knew about this stuff made him somehow sickening and vile. Perhaps because he seemed so plausible but there was always the suspicion that he made stuff up but that you had no choice but to believe that what he was saying for the best.
He was a strange stylised round creature about a foot and a half tall with markings like black and white cows – only less symmetrical. He had a pillar-like appliance that sat in the middle of the sitting room. The device seemed to unsheath itself, and the inside looked solid like a rock covered in sea-shells, but I determined that these were just inscrutable objects tightly packed to appear like some kind of solid mass. When Coypew went away he seemed really creepy and disturbing in a way he didn’t when he was close by. Once when he went out, his appliance unravelled its doors and the dog took a bite out of the mechanics inside. The technology came away like a mixture of muscle and cake. And though Coypew didn’t notice, I secretly knew that the pillar would get septic and corrupted and gradually start making mistakes, and become immoral and finally inevitably die. But for some reason I didn’t say anything… I think I wanted them both to go away…
Odd dream, all things considering. But stunningly visual and I could draw most of the things that were in it right now if I could only find a pen and some paper that didn’t have hastily scribbled superheroes on it. Ah, the mind of an over-caffeinated geek.