I'm not blind, I'm just a geek.
Feb. 2nd, 2006 11:01 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alexsarllMax Decharne pubs
In witch-haunted Crouch End? Sure.
(Flaming Stars singer)
I note with some surprise that Crouch Hill's really beginning to gentrify. Not the Crouch End slope, that was always fairly posh - the other, between Finsbury Park and Crouch End. What used to be a practically fortified gay pub is now called something like Big Sofa and looks like the bar from Coupling, and now there's a new place called The Crouch a little further up, whose furniture looks even more unappealing than their name.
Yesterday I'd been planning to open this entry with a salute to France Soir, Germany's Die Welt, La Stampa in Italy and El Periodico in Spain, and express my sorrow that no British paper is on that list, because never has it been more important to assert our right to print bad cartoons (and frankly, they're no worse than Steve Bell's recent work). The good news is that a few more papers have joined that list. The bad is that France Soir's owner has decided to maintain France's proud tradition of collaboration and sacked the editor responsible. "French theologian Sohaib Bencheikh spoke out against the pictures: "One must find the borders between freedom of expression and freedom to protect the sacred," he wrote in a column accompanying the cartoons in France Soir. "Unfortunately, the West has lost its sense of the sacred."" Well, my gods were always pretty good at taking care of themselves when they got bothered about the sacred had been disrespected - hideous transfigurations, thunderbolts, that sort of thing. Hell, even the god of the monotheists used to manage the odd rain of fire or plague. If he can, leave it in his hands. If he can't anymore, then why bother worshipping the old fool? Either way - YOU LOSE. Now evolve, die or get the Hell out of the way.
That's Paul McGann's voice on the Eurostar ads, isn't it, comparing them favourably to flying? Bit of a comedown when I last heard him travelling to France by a combination of TARDIS and airship, then heading back by vortisaur.
One detail which will almost certainly be absent from my review of the new Nick Drake biography is that it inexplicably omits to mention his curious resemblance to Mark Wahlberg.
Yesterday I was obliged to explain 'sc@t' to a Frenchman, and narrowly avoided explaining 'tw1nk' to a colleague. I don't want everyone thinking, as one former boss did, "Alex, you know things people shouldn't know."
In witch-haunted Crouch End? Sure.
(Flaming Stars singer)
I note with some surprise that Crouch Hill's really beginning to gentrify. Not the Crouch End slope, that was always fairly posh - the other, between Finsbury Park and Crouch End. What used to be a practically fortified gay pub is now called something like Big Sofa and looks like the bar from Coupling, and now there's a new place called The Crouch a little further up, whose furniture looks even more unappealing than their name.
Yesterday I'd been planning to open this entry with a salute to France Soir, Germany's Die Welt, La Stampa in Italy and El Periodico in Spain, and express my sorrow that no British paper is on that list, because never has it been more important to assert our right to print bad cartoons (and frankly, they're no worse than Steve Bell's recent work). The good news is that a few more papers have joined that list. The bad is that France Soir's owner has decided to maintain France's proud tradition of collaboration and sacked the editor responsible. "French theologian Sohaib Bencheikh spoke out against the pictures: "One must find the borders between freedom of expression and freedom to protect the sacred," he wrote in a column accompanying the cartoons in France Soir. "Unfortunately, the West has lost its sense of the sacred."" Well, my gods were always pretty good at taking care of themselves when they got bothered about the sacred had been disrespected - hideous transfigurations, thunderbolts, that sort of thing. Hell, even the god of the monotheists used to manage the odd rain of fire or plague. If he can, leave it in his hands. If he can't anymore, then why bother worshipping the old fool? Either way - YOU LOSE. Now evolve, die or get the Hell out of the way.
That's Paul McGann's voice on the Eurostar ads, isn't it, comparing them favourably to flying? Bit of a comedown when I last heard him travelling to France by a combination of TARDIS and airship, then heading back by vortisaur.
One detail which will almost certainly be absent from my review of the new Nick Drake biography is that it inexplicably omits to mention his curious resemblance to Mark Wahlberg.
Yesterday I was obliged to explain 'sc@t' to a Frenchman, and narrowly avoided explaining 'tw1nk' to a colleague. I don't want everyone thinking, as one former boss did, "Alex, you know things people shouldn't know."
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no subject
Date: 2006-02-02 12:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-02 12:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-02 12:20 pm (UTC)If ever, actually.
I am not up on all this new rude slang, anyway.
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Date: 2006-02-02 01:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-02 01:14 pm (UTC)