Sunday again. I meant to write yesterday but then I watched Strictly and an old episode of Sherlock and really, those two things can’t be interrupted by intelligent work.
Apparently it’s now just 31 days until Christmas, which apparently I’m supposed to be excited about?
If I get excited now – and there is a teeny tiny part of me that is – I will have used up my Christmas cheer by 12th December. So I am pulling faces at Christmas songs in shops, scowling at house decorations – it is fucking November what is wrong with you people? – and trying to be Scrooge.
This year I will try to finish A Christmas Carol. Have I technically started it if I’ve only ever read a few pages? Don’t answer that.
The only preparation I’ve done is set aside a pot for gift money. Is it just me or are presents a) harder to choose each year and b) more expensive each year?
I mean, I’ve done the group present thing and the DVDs for everyone thing and the posh coffee because we’re all addicted thing. Recently I saw a calendar my brother might have liked but it was about £15, which would’ve eaten up my budget for most of the people I know and it’s not that interesting. Plus there seems to be more people to buy for every year and I don’t even get out much, so I’m taking stock of my friends and working out who will/won’t be offended by a home-made postcard and it’s getting a bit political.
When I was about eight, my aunt took me Christmas shopping and I think I got a gift for three separate people and our dog for £20. Possibly I am looking through time-tinted spectacles at the past. Or possibly that was pre-recession when a five pound note was likely to get you change.
I’m still trying to get over the awfulness of Sunday’s blog title. I was very sleepy that day and struggled to think of anything smart, but still… I feel like the rockstar in that Private Eye sketch, and it’s icky.
Anyway, back to good vibes.
I noticed today that Indifferent Ignorance has had 1200 comments. About half of those are mine, because I try to respond to everyone, but that’s quite cool, especially because as of Sunday I had written 400 posts (wish I’d known that at the time).
I’ve also got about 100 drafts.
Right, onto a simultaneous piece of art and indifferent ignorance! I’ve been thinking that I should share more art on here, and as it happens this piece is perfect. Basically I saw The Imitation Game on Sunday and it is brilliant and blew my mind both in terms of this dude pretty much invented the computer and civil rights were fucking bullshit back in the day.
I feel like the fact it’s both Remembrance Sunday and 25 years since the Berlin Wall came down is monumental, but I don’t really feel qualified to write huge political essays on the foolishness of war and European politics since I didn’t exist 25 years ago, let alone during World War I.
Looks kind of half-arsed compared to the finished product, huh.
I’m reading Child 44 at the moment (I typed it as Child $$, which should be a band) and it’s one of those books that’s best described as cold. Not in terms of the writing – it’s very good – but its story thoroughly depressing. When and where is it set?
That would be 1950s Soviet Russia.
For god’s sake, humanity, get your shit together and quit killing people! You’re only going to regret it!
I’m torn between yelling at the sky in exasperation and breaking down in noisy tears.
Still, today is a big deal for Europe history wise, which got me thinking about where I was when XYZ happened. I seem to remember being told about 9/11 on the way home from school, and I saw that Margaret Thatcher had died when I flicked the news on during crap TV ads. I think my mum was in Germany when Elvis died, and I missed the actual moment William and Catherine got married because I was trying to ask my nan why she thought I shouldn’t marry a Greek (someone had mentioned the Duke of Edinburgh).
So does anyone have any interesting anecdotes about where they were when? Please note I will probably be telling everyone I know your stories.
Eek! I’ve been wanting to do this for ages, but the site actually has editors who decide if your definition is good enough (I know) so I had to tweak it a bit. You guys are very welcome to add your own definitions and examples. I considered adding ‘Indifferent Ignorance’ but I thought that might be a bit much.
This is the next of Five Ways to Celebrate Five Years of Blogging, in case you were wondering. It’s basically the reason I started Five Ways to Celebrate Five Years of Blogging. I’m very proud of myself for a) defining the term, b) getting it accepted on there and c) contributing to my favourite social encounter-based resource.
I’ve made it back to England in one piece – not even a in-suitcase breakage – and am remembering the art of removing Wellington boots. Should ‘Wellington’ be capitalised?
I’ve also been re-learning the TV news, which is different from BBC app news insofar as I can exit the app with a flick of my thumb but the scrolling news ribbon on TV keeps me captivated even if I’m so disgusted by the article I want to turn off.
Good move, PR people.
Apparently the big story here has been that David Cameron won’t pay the EU some money, which is interesting having just spent a month in a country which has possibly the best claim out of all of us to not give the EU any cash. It’s also been kind of a bummer coming back to ‘NO MORE IMMIGRANTS’ news stories. Mostly because every time an EU/immigration/foreign people story crops up in politics it gives the tabloid press half a leg to stand on… but also because it’s embarrassing that some British people moan and complain about immigration laws but quite happily a) enjoy EU travel benefits, b) don’t want the jobs that ‘the foreign people are taking when they come to the UK’ and c) love travelling to Europe, love the multiculturalism and fantasise about bringing cute locals home.
Maybe it’s old fashioned, but I feel awkward when people are hypocrites. Anyway, here’s a picture of Zakynthos to make everyone feel better about the rain. I accidentally published it as a post a minute ago… remind me to learn how to use a mobile phone.
It’s the post-tourist season beach at Laganas, which some of you may know from the popular BBC3 programme Sun, Sex and Suspicious Parents, due to its popularity with party-going students. I’ve never made it down in the summer (I do not go on holiday to experience England with sun; Laganas is a lot like my local high street including a McDonald’s) but in October it was almost eerily quiet.