Double-speak?

Toby's fed up with kitchen papparazzis. Or is he?

NEWSFLASH: controversial dissertation photograph released

This exclusive picture shows what is believed, by experts, to be someone actually working on their dissertation.

The grainy photograph was delivered to our office earlier today in a sealed anonymous e-mail. Speculation over who could have taken the photograph and for what purpose has dominated the conversation in the kitchen.

In response to calls to act, government Minister for Misinformation, Kermit T. Frog, this evening poured scorn on the claims saying: "This is a load of codswallop. Someone idiot has taken a photograph of an innocent blogger, and faked it to look like they're actually working. I can't believe anyone would fall for such a load of nonsense."

Sources close to the Chapel Market intellegence agency, Darrel the fishmonger, indicated that bosses do not believe that anyone in this country is currently working on their dissertation, and that the public should remain calm.

"In a break from our normal programming...

...we bring you the Notting Hill Carnival."




With far too much time on our hands here in Chapel Market (ahem!), we thought we'd use up an afternoon down at 'ole Notting 'ill. Little did we know*, someone had arranged a giant party with lots of barely-clothed people dressed up in colourful feather outfits.



"What the 'ell is this?", said we.



"Why, 'tis the Notting 'ill Carnival, mate", said the kindly police man. "Enjoy the show...!".

So we did.

(NB: if you happen to be the person depicted in the above photograph : please contact Toby immediately at t dot wilkinson at lineone dot net, I repeat, immediately, thank you.)

(Hi, yep, um, just a reminder, if this is you, I'm still waiting, um, right...)

---

*(Actually that's a lie: we did know it was on, but why spoil a good story with the truth?)

It is said to have advantages

Rain, rain, go away,
come again another day.
Little Johnny wants to play.

Rain, rain, go to Spain,
Never show your face again!


But listen to this: The origin of the lyrics of Rain rain go away are said to date back to the reign of Queen Elizabeth I (1533-1603). During this period of English history there was constant rivalry between Spain and England culminating in the launch of the Spanish Armada in 1588. The Spanish Armada consisted of many Spanish galleons and was sent to invade England.

The Armada was led by Duke of Medina Sedonia and the the fleet numbered over 130 ships. The English fleet, under Admiral Lord Howard, totalled 34 small Navy vessels and 163 armed merchant ships. But the great Spanish Armada was defeated. Only 65 Spanish galleons and just 10,000 men returned to Spain. The attempt failed, not only because of the swift nature of the smaller English ships but also by the stormy weather which scattered the Armada fleet.

Søket ga 471 treff

Er det ikkje litt pirrande at vi blei akkurat oss? Ein dag søkte eg på Gule Sider for å utforske tilfeldigheitane nærare. Der fann eg mange Idunar eg potensielt sett kunne ha blitt i staden for ho til høgre.


Viss eg ville vere unik:
Idun Idun
Idun Vakt Telefon
Idun Ring (og burde ikkje dei to møtast…)

Viss eg ville vere verkvinne:
Idun Storm

Viss eg ville vere politikar:
Idun Brustad
Idun Søviknes
Idun Kleppe
Idun Halvorsen

Forfattar:
Idun Tiller

Fotballstjerne:
Idun Flo

Kunstnar:
Idun Backer

Viss eg ville vere vanleg:
Idun Olsen
Idun Larsen
Idun Johnsen
Idun Nilsen
Idun Hansen

Viss eg ville vere syster til Krudle-Reidun:
Idun Mo

Viss eg ville vere syster til Evy:
Idun Solbakken

Viss eg ville vere kort og grei:
Idun Sem
Idun Vik
Idun Eid

Viss eg ville vere i slekt med naboen min:
Idun Drageset

Viss eg ville vere bittelitt frekk:
Idun Skrukli
Idun Våtsveen
Idun S. Assen

Viss eg likte bokstavrim:
Idun Sunde Semb

Viss eg ville legge egg:
Idun Vagle

Viss eg ville vere litt utanlandsk:
Idun Smith
Idun Sommerschild

Viss eg ville vere artig:
Idun Kannelønning
Idun Haanshuus

Viss eg ville vere transe:
Idun Frank Folkedahl

Viss eg ville hatt færre feilskrivingar:
Idun Andersen (med 1 s)

Viss eg ville hatt heftig samansette namn:
Idun Ida Solhaug
Idun Irene Utne

Viss eg ville vere ultrakomplisert:
Idun Elisabeth Henden Al Hajjam

Viss eg ville vere rik:
Idun Reitan

Viss eg ville vere morosam i England:
Idun Herring

Viss eg ville vere engel:
Idun Dale Rein

Viss eg ville vere naturleg som naturen sjølv:
Idun Foss Myrmo

Viss eg ville vere den andre Idunen på Leikanger:
Idun Berit Svensson Himle

Viss eg synst namnet mitt var for kort:
Idun Emilia Lervik Roesen
Idun Elisabeth Stenbakken Østgaard
Idun Elisabeth Findalen Stenbakken
Idun Kristine Sverdstad Bjørvik

Viss eg sakna eit kjekt mellomnamn:
Idun Nelly Johanne Liland
Idun Nordis Hesenget Larsen

Viss eg ville bake namnekake:
Idun Wathne + Idun Mehl + Idun Egge Nilsen




Til alle Idunane der ute som i eit øyeblikks narsissisme googla namnet sitt og blei støytte: Det er for all del ikkje personleg. Til sjuande og sist er vi jo alle ein Idun, og hugs: Det er Stabburet som er vår eigentlege fiende.

Writing is a Prison

Procrastinate
* verb: postpone doing what one should be doing (Example: "He did not want to write the letter and procrastinated for days")

* verb: postpone or delay needlessly (Example: "He procrastinated the matter until it was almost too late")




Buying Hungarian "chimney bread"





Soft-terror workshop

Monitoring the local construction work




Going to Greenwich




All in all, there should be no doubt that writing is hard.

The Pepper Can Strikes Again

It's one of those days - again. Both Toby and I are now starting to feel as though the devious little pepper can is surveying the atmosphere in the room in order to strike, with lethal precision, just as we arrive at the lowest point of the weekly mood curve - to push us even further down.

A Difficult Day

Some days are more difficult than others.

These are some of the common symptoms of a Difficult Day:

- the entire contents of the pepper container lands on your breakfast (exemplified in Toby)
- you have breakfast for more than one hour
- you stare at your computer
- you check your e-mail every 10 minutes or more
- you do unusually many wordcounts
- the weather is shit
- people on the street swear at each other, and you listen instead of working
- you decide to clean your ears
- you burn your dinner
- you can't upload pictures to your blog but keep trying for 2 hours
- and finally, there is no ketchup for your omelette, which forces you to go ketchup-hunting - while your dinner turns cold (exemplified in Toby)





This, however, turned out to be the only success story of that incredibly difficult day, which in fact lasted from Monday morning until Tuesday evening.










Toby got his ketchup in the end.

Millipede Murder

It's been a weekend of brutal bloodshed.

I don't normally kill. Killing is wrong, and I'm usually scared that the insects will attack me before I have the time to smack them. Yesterday was a rare exception, but I put it down to shock. While comfortably stretched out in the staircase in a phone conversation, this squiggly, long creature starts worming his way underneath the floor carpet right in front of me, giving rise to all sorts of scenarios. I get hold of a shoe to try and smack it, not realising that the enemy has sought refuge in a corner, out of access of non-pointy Camper shoes. I slam and slam while still on the phone, but the millipede wisely plays dead. Or is he? That's when I discover that red shoes, unlike black shoes, leave red stains.

At this point, poor Toby returns from a four-day stay in a tent under a tree in rural France (apparently the drawback of country manor weddings). As always, this wedding attracted a swarm of couples, leaving Toby to hang out with (and share the campsite with) the only other single person around.

This, unfortunately, was the Murderous Mr X, who soon into the conversation mentions that he killed two squirrels the day before. Why, Toby asks, and then, just before bedtime in the dark garden by the manor, the campmate admits without trace of regret that he drowned them (!!!). A friend of his apparently needed some stuffed animals for a new chess board, and Mr X thought he'd help him out by providing two of them, so he grabbed them from a friend's pest control van, and svush. (Police...)

Toby calls his mum to report the madness.

This was the first of Toby's sleepless nights under the tree in France. Not that I think his fears are justified, but after discovering the millipede scene, Toby doesn't seem to sleep all that well in his London bed either.


PS. This is Toby's 20cm-long Chinese millipede friend, which justifies my actions. But not Mr X's.

Warning

This is not just an invitation. This is a THREAT. From Toby and Idun.


And we're serious. You have only one option if you want to save the bananas. Be here at 7.30 on September 16th WITHOUT your disgusting dissertations.


"I'll eat them!"



We do, however, command that you come dressed as your dissertation. Guidance follows...

Uyghur Reponses to Chinese Rule


Cultural Ecology of Google Earth (or Toby after a mass consumption of the bananas' friends)


As we said: We are serious. Be there.

An Expedition to Kilburn

London's outskirts are packed with little gems. Angeles, a Chinese restaurant in Kilburn, is one such place. Its food is spicy, abundant, and highly authentic; the staff is Chinese and so is the clientele. This includes round tables, sharing of dishes and of course, authentic alcohol - bai jiu) - with a taste so foul that it makes most people cringe.









Our infamous expeditions to Kilburn have been going on since the winter, but it's still nice, and the tube trips back tend to be particularly entertaining. Here's the last expedition, with Linda and Ragnhild (visiting from Norway), Gry (Ragnhild's friend), Daymon (my beer&language partner), Eleise (from my Chinese class)& Arjun (her Indian friend), Ee Loong (form Chinese politics classes), and myself.