Secret Songs of Silence

signs of the times

As far as I can tell there was a twitter trend in the Republic of Ireland yesterday on the topic: #stuffwelikedwhenitwastheceltictiger.

I only noticed it because I follow Ross O'Carroll Kelly's twitter feed on my RSS reader.

I rather liked these three (two original and one re-tweet) tweets:

Not buying salt and vinegar crisps unless they were, "Sea Salt and West Country Cider Vinegar Crisps."

Not buying cheese and onion crisps unless they were, "Mature cheddar and caramelised onion crisps."

Calling gravy "jus"

Brilliant topic, really!

 

 

pee on the penguin

I'd read about this but only watched the video this morning:

 

Isn't this just one of those ideas that you wish you'd thought of first?

Talk about macho pissing contests.   Also, I can't help wondering whether this might change the time-honored rules of urinal usage.

That, of course, might lead to a whole new set of reasons to cop a peek!

Nirvana.

Except, probably, for those of us who are pee shy.   And those with smaller bladders.

verona cuties

He was by far the cutest guy I saw in Verona.

I heard him before I saw him.  I was standing admiring the Scaligeri tombs when I heard squeals of utter joy.  Closely followed by the urgent footsteps of his mother.

The family had clearly been relaxing in Piazza dei Signori, a lovely, quiet Piazza, unvisited by many tourists.  The young boy had, equally clearly, just discovered not only his balance on his bicycle, but also his inner speed demon, and had taken off down the gentle hill where I was standing.

His mother, concerned presumably about his ability to stop not to mention the possibility of traffic at the end of the street, was in hot pursuit.

They returned to the Piazza.

Moments later he was back again, just as thrilled if not more so.

On the third 'excursion', Papa was sent after him.  It was impossible not to smile and feel good (though there was a real danger at the end of that short and narrow street).

As for the cute guy that I stalked whose path crossed mine several times as I wandered round the Basilica of St. Anastasia, all of my interior snapshots were blurry.  But I did manage to get a decent pic outside:

:-)

 

dancing with joy (2)

Russell and Flavia's Salsa from week two of Strictly Come Dancing.

Their music: why Dancing Queen, of course!  :-)

 

 

some temptations are forgiveable

Inspired by Nicky...

 

I have never watched this show.

There is something oh-s0-sexy, though, about these two dressed up as priests that inspires fantasies.  Nicky is not alone in sin.

mea culpa

 

memories of a visit to Verona (1)

Yesterday, I went looking back through some of pictures from my trip to Italy last summer.  I particularly wanted to look at my pictures of Verona and the Basilica di Santa Anastasia with which Will had mentioned he had a family connection.  (I'd been meaning to do this for ages, but you know what they say about good intentions)

I was happily surprised by how splendid a church this is. 

My memories may have been influenced however by pictures of the hottie who was visiting at the same time and whose picture I kept trying to get (surreptitiously, of course).

As with all Catholic churches built in historical times, and this is especially true of Italian churches, there are special altars down each side of the nave, often decorated with amazing art.  This is the Centrego Altar dedicated to St. Thomas Aquinas. 

The painting is Our Lady enthroned between St Thomas and St Augustine by Girolamo dai Libri (1477-1555).

On the left as you enter the church is the Boldieri altar:

The altar is dedicated to St Peter Martyr (a local saint, I believe) who is in the middle of the threesome holding a model of the city of Verona.  To the left of him is St Sebastian; and to the right is St Rocco.

On the right as you enter is the altar of most interest and significance to Will, I suspect: the Fregoso altar:

This magnifiicent altar was carved by Danese Cattaneo da Carrara (also a relative, Will?) for Iano Fregoso in ~ 1555.  I wish now that I had spent more time looking at the sculpture.

The plaque above the altar is inscribed:

Deo Opt. Max.
Ianus Fregosius Ligurum Princeps
Ac Venet. Reip. Terrestrium Copiarum Om
Nium Praef. Ubi Fortiss. Ducis Officia
Domi Foris Que Praestisset Sac. H.T.P.I.
Hercules F. Paternae Piettais Memor P.

Sadly, my Latin skills are no longer adequate to offer an adequate translation.

Historical Note: As I wandered round google, I came across a notation that Duke Federico of Montefeltro gave the town of Sant'Agata Feltria in feud to his daughter Gentile Feltria, when she married the nobleman Agostino Fregoso from Genova.  Under Fregoso rule, the town became home to one of the most distinguished courts of the Renaissance period.  The Dukes of Montefeltro ruled from Urbino in the Marche (also home to Raphael).  It was my visit to Urbino in 1995 (I think) that started my love of Italy.

 

snow days

What to do on a snow day?

(No, Nicky, sex is not an answer!  :-)  )

1. Shovel snow.
2. Book flight to Hawaii.
3. Curse when the snow-clearing company you have hired for the winter email to tell you that they'll be there soon.  This after you have already cleared the driveway (see 1) because you thought that the contract didn't start until Dec 01.
4. Read a good book: Operation Napoleon
5. Shovel more snow because the city haven't yet cleared your street.
6. Start dinner
7. Shovel the snow and ice that the city plow has dumped on the end of your recently cleared driveway.
8. Finish reading a good book: Operation Napoleon

* * *

Actually, I didn't finish the book until this morning.  Arnaldur Indridason is a really good Icelandic author who is blessed with really good tranlsators.  His detective series featuring Erlendur is superb.  He's a dark, broody, sombre, detective haunted by ghosts of his past.  Iceland appears dark, broody and sombre too.  But the stories are great.

This book, Operation Napoleon, is a different tale.  A World War II plane that crashed on the Vatnajokull glacier has reappeared and is the subject of a highly secretive recovery operation by clandestine US agents.  It's a fast, gripping read, and presents an interesting portrait of the uneasy relationship between Iceland's people and government, and the US military authorities based at Keflavik.

Recommended!

 

white, yellow and pink

If I were a younger man, full of energy, with a love of the outdoors and all of its possibilities, come winter or summer, I would have lots to be thankful about this morning:

About 20 cm to be precise and its not done yet!   As it is, I'm not so young any more, I've got aches and pains, a sometimes dodgy back, and a hernia.  I don't see much joy in shovelling that lot from my front porch.

Today, of course is American Thanksgiving, so I'd like to send a special shout out to my American visitors, Nicky and Will in particular, and my "unknown" regulars from Sherman Oaks and Grand Rapids.

Inspiration deserted me when it came to finding a suitable picture to mark the holiday, so I did a google image search.   For better or worse, here's what I came up with:

(Yes, indeed, I googled "gay thanksgiving" and among the top images that turned up is that hunk in pink!)

Given the weather we're having today, they're sort of appropriate, no?  Plus, by looking at those abs, they'll remind my American readers (*cough*, Nicky) to go easy on that turkey!

Time to get washed and to get the snow shovel out!

Happy Thanksgiving!

 

 

pepper memery

What's the point of blogging if you can't indulge in a little memery once in a while?

Especially when one is in a hurry.

Some of my favourite pepper spray art:

(via Firedoglake, and AMERICAblog)

 

joy of dancing

We are down to the finale of DWTS and last night proved to be a bit of an upset.  Early favourite, J.R. Martinez did not dance his cha-cha well.  Fair dues to him though, he admitted it up front with the judges who marked it accordingly.  They loved his freestyle.  I didn't like it so much though it was a very difficult and technically challenging routine.  I missed Ricki Lakes cha-cha thanks to an ill-timed phone call from a friend.  Her free-style was just OK and was marked as such.  Rob Kardashian blew them both away and is now in the lead going into tonight's show.  I thought he was over-marked a bit for his waltz but I liked his freestyle.  Here's the thing: when he dances, he looks like he's having a blast.  The other two, not so much.

Over the past two weekends, I've been following events on the current UK version of the show.  One of the performers who has lasted longer than anyone thought possible is Russell Grant.  He was finally evicted this week after winning the hearts of every dancer and every professional.  Why?   Because he danced with joy every single time.  His attitude was always positive.  As a dancer, he was surprisingly light on his feet, he had good rhythm and musicality.  And his routines, well, let's just say that they were outrageous and delightful.  He danced to the audience and for the audience.  He entertained.  And that's what Rob K is doing better than Ricki and J.R. as I see it!

Here's his very first dance, a cha-cha that went down in history as the campest on the show:

 

One thing to note, and this becomes clear as the series went on, is that his partner was simply brilliant at working with him.  They dance very much together. 

North American viewers will also not be familiar with the fourth judge, Craig Revel Horwood, who is way harsher than Len...and bitchier with his comments though that may be part of his act for the show.

 

good advice

Dean Dad has an open letter to UCDavis Chancellor Linda Katehi today.  It's a thoughtful pragmatic letter, one that she really should read.  Dean Dad knows what it's like to be an administrator:

I’m writing as a fellow higher ed administrator. Like you, I’ve been on the receiving end of smug tirades by people who don’t have to balance competing goods. It’s frustrating. And I’ve also had to deal with the fallout when people who report to me make decisions I wish they hadn’t. It happens.

Now you’re in that awful position where the protesters are right. It’s hard to swallow, but it’s true.

At this point, as I see it, you have exactly two ways to play this. You can resign, or you can jump out in front of the issue. The one thing you absolutely cannot do is be careful.

That last sentence captures my reaction to her proposed task force.  Initially set to report in 90 days, she then shortened the time frame to 30.  Too little, too late.  She should have set a 10 day or less deadline.  She needed to demonstrate  immediate action.

His advice:

Like it or not, the only way around this is through it. You have to own this, personally and publicly. You have to get out there yourself, take the risk of public humiliation, and change the way the university treats the people who get on its nerves.

If that’s too tall an order, just resign. But make up your mind quickly. Twisting in the wind will do untold damage to everything the university stands for.

He's glad he's not her right now.  So am I.  I felt for her a smidgen as I watched that perp walk.  But then, I reminded myself of a phrase every academic administrator will use and hear: that's why we're paid the big bucks.  She wanted the job.  It's her bad luck that she's now in a mess.  If she follows Dean Dad's advice she might get out of it with her reputation intact. 

Do read Dean Dad's Open Letter, it's worthwhile.

staircase sex

It's often struck me as overkill that mediterranean countries have a plethora of police-type forces.  Spain has the Guardia Civil and Policia National, as well as regional and municipal forces.  And, I don't think this counts the military forces.

I'm sure there are good reasons for all these forces.  I'm equally sure that one rather embarrassed British holidaymaker on Tenerife wishes there weren't quite so many.

Here, more or less verbatim, is an item from Janet Anscombe's  Tenerife blog:

A female British holidaymaker mercifully suffered no worse than a broken ankle after falling several metres from the landing of an apartment block in Adeje while having sex with her husband. In her fall, the woman trapped one of her feet in a staircase bannister, which helped to break her fall, albeit in a dramatically sudden way, but which also left her hanging there, upside down and completely naked, until emergency teams arrived.

 [...] They had been having sex against the railings in the communal area of the complex, and the woman is said to have lost her balance in a moment of careless passion.

On receiving the call, emergency services were dispatched to the scene, which is in Calle Italia, near the Aquapark. Crews were sent from the local and national police forces, from the ambulance service, fire brigade …

Sounds rather like one of those Reader's Digest slice of life situations.  It's funny as long as it doesn't happen to me.

So, next time the urge for stairwell sex strikes, be warned.   Nicky!?   :-)

 

multiple choice

What shall I blog about today?

(a) police brutality

(b) stupid university administrators

(c) police stupidity

(d) all of the above

The correct answer is (d):

This picture richly deserves to become the first one anyone ever sees when they google University of California, Davis.

Lt. John Pike, showing us his best runway style, is casually waving a pepper spray at ~20 people who are a threat to his safety.  Note the casual, insouciant air with which he wields his spray ca.

The full video is, of course, all over the 'net today, and there are many good articles here, here, here and here, so there is no need for me to say more.

Do watch the video till the end because if there is one somewhat heartening image from the whole scene it is that of the phalanx of the campus police riot squad retreating in shame and ignominy as the crowd chants "you can go".

Speaking of "you can go"...

Linda Katehi, that applies to you too.  If your viewpoint in the immediate aftermath of this incident is just:

We are saddened to report that during this activity, 10 protestors were arrested and pepper spray was used.  We will be reviewing the details of the incident.

then you are no longer fit to be Chancellor of an academic institution.

ADDENDUM

As the Agonist notes, Linda Katehi was very publically and very effectively shamed as she walked to her car.  The silence was deafening; she looked supremely uncomfortable.  Here's the video:

 

cartoon of the day

Chan Lowe has a great cartoon on the fallacy of states rights:

or, as he says: what’s sauce for the goose ... can end up splattered all over your face!

glads

It's a dark wet cold miserable day, today.   I stayed at home rather than go into the office.

Here are some recent flower pictures:

The first two were taken on Oct 23rd.  Fearing that frost would be the end of the flower spike, I cut it and brought it indoors.  It gradually opened as you can see from the last two pics taken on Oct 27th and 30th respectively.

Two days ago, I noticed that another gladiolus has a flower spike. I've left it as long as possible but I'm going to have to cut it today before ca old front moves through later tonight.  We had a lousy Spring but a nice Fall so its nice to see that plants survived and blossomed.

 

voice of frustration

Canada's near fascist (my description) Government have invoked closure 7 times this Fall to speed their legislation through.  They have a majority.  Their parliamentary lap-dogs do as they are commanded. 

As closure was, once again, imposed yesteday, Opposition MP Pat Martin sent out a tweet from the House of Commons:

"This is a fucking disgrace...closure again. And on the Budget! There's not a democracy in the world that would tolerate this jackboot shit"

Needless to say, the jackboots all have their knickers in a twist this morning.

I say: Props to Pat Martin!

signs

In the "saved-for-a-future-post-but-not-actually-posted" category, I got a chuckle out of this:

via Boy Culture

 

dancing and singing

I have to give props to Rob Kardashian who has come a long way in his dancing on DWTS.  He was postively joyful in all his dances on last night's episode.  He was confident and projected his personality to the audience.  He DANCED!!   I'm pleased for him that he got a 10, and that he was given the win for the cha-cha.  I'd also have to agree with commentators who believe that the producers (and judges?) want Hope and Maks out.

Here's his rainbow-themed samba:

 

* * *

As far as singing and dancing goes, I'm very tempted by this great review to hop on a plane and see if I can get a ticket

The impossibly talented, impossibly energetic Mr. Jackman is a glorious dinosaur among live entertainers of the 21st century: an honest-to-gosh old-fashioned matinee idol [...] he’s happiest as a song-and-dance man, the kind who conducts mass flirtation with a wink, a wriggle, a firmly handled melody and maybe a cane and some tap shoes.

One of the perqs of being on leave is that I could go anytime, and even though Christmas season is tempting it would certainly be harder to get a ticket.

* * *

Speaking of NYC and singing, I'm also tempted by the Metropolitan Opera's Ring Cycle next April or May.  The reviews are good though there are problems with the innovative cumbersome set than with the singing.  A 45 minute delay while the stage crew greases some cogwheels (or whatever) in the middle of a 5 hr opera is not altogether compelling.  Is this production worth it, Will?

 

lollipop

canadian lollipop, perhaps?

(pic via tgrade5)

hot tailor man

"Well, hellooooooo there"

"What are you doing here..."

Words I most certainly thought but did not speak.

I had just walked into the tailor's shop with a pair of pants that I wanted to have altered.  The first person I saw was new, I'd never seen him there before.  Man, was he hot.

Tallish, lithe, slim, he had a full beard, a tattoed arm, he wore a cloth (or flat) cap, he had a smile with the whitest teeth, and he had a wonderful glint in his eye.

Didn't make much of an impression, did he!

Alas, he was just finishing up with a customer so I was attended by one of the owners.  He sized up the pants, stuck in a few pins, and chatted as he customarily would.  He also asked the new guy to close the door because the girls in the back were cold.  Perhaps new guy is one of those people with a high BMR; certainly would explain his slender physique.

"Will Wednesday be OK", my tailor asked me.  "Sure", I said, "I've had them for two months so its not as if I've been in any rush".  They both laughed.

As I left, my tailor said goodbye.

And the new guy did too.  With, perhaps, an extra ounce of good cheer?  That may have been my imagination at play.

For now, I'm trying to figure out how to make sure that I get served by the new guy when I go to pick up the pants.

(Pic is Rosemary McCabe's ideal man; it's a close-enough approximation of my tailor man.)