Saturday, July 31, 2010

Beware, LARPERS !

Wahey matey, you might look like an uber geek, but at least there's a party in your green tights tonight. (Seriously, if you're prone to getting a Tim Henman (that is - an unexpected semi) then clingy material around the crotch might not be your best choice of clothing).

Fancy Some Hanky Panky ?

Prior To Be Drink And Dope Tested ?

LONDON - AUGUST 20: Matt Prior of England walk...Image by Getty Images via @daylife
Just read this on Cricinfo Ball By Ball..."The physio is on the field now, checking on Prior. He's had a drink and maybe a tablet of some sort, but he's fine to bat on."  Booze and pills, is this a test match or a rave ?



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The Weakest Link - Anne's Predatory Sexual Preferences

Does The Times Have An Agenda Against Clare Balding ?

Sunday Times plaque London 1822Image via Wikipedia
I wondered earlier in the week why Caitlin Moran deemed it important to point out presenter Clare Balding's sexual status in an article reviewing Balding's new show Britain By Bike.  It seems that sister newspaper The Sunday Times also had a go at the BBC presenter, A A Gill seems to have incurred Balding's wrath by making jokes about her sexuality in his review of her show.

Clare Balding makes Sunday Times sex jibe complaint

I didn't get The Sunday Times last week, and I'm not stumping up the money to get through The Times pay wall, did anybody read the article ?  Would I be a bit paranoid in thinking that whenever some arm of the far reaching News Corp/Sky empire has a go at someone then there is a dark and controlling force behind it ?

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Friday, July 30, 2010

Washing Machine Self Destructs, With Help

Moths, They Give Me THE FEAR!

A mothImage via Wikipedia
I know it's a bit daft for a grown man to be scared of moths, but I can't stand the things.  It's the way they flutter and speed around in senseless mad flight, horrible little things.

Last week I was tidying up in the linen store, which is also where I keep sacks full of washed plastics and cans for recycling. After I had dragged all the sacks out to my car I reached into my pocket to get my car keys, and a bloody big moth had managed to crawl inside.  It fluttered against my palm, did I react to this in a stoic and manly manner ? No. I screamed like a little girl, much to the amusement of Mrs YS and brother in law Mk.3
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Tuesday, July 27, 2010

It Isn't Who You Are, It's Who You Sleep With

Clare BaldingImage via Wikipedia
Reading Caitlin Moran in the Times last weekend, I found it odd that she described Clare Balding as the "kind of presenter you would only get on the BBC, a posh lesbian jockey turned sports anchor."

Why is it important that we know Balding's sexuality ? I would rather know a person's politics than their sexual inclination, gays I have no problems with, BNP, EDL and NF activists I am rather less keen on.  Both bits of information though would have no relevance at all to the subject Moran was discussing, that Clare Balding is presenting a television show about cycling around Britain.

Mind you, The Times managed to call the presenter Spalding rather than Balding throughout the article, so perhaps Moran should undertake more research into her subjects names and careers as opposed to their gender preference.
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Facebook, It's Not Real Life Though Is It ?

This is icon for social networking website. Th...Image via Wikipedia
Facebook make you happy ? Not happy in a 'Woo Yay' sort of way, but for regular users of the site, does the interaction you gain from using Facebook make your life just a bit nicer ?

Personally, I would have to say yes.  Facebook allows me to keep in touch with close friends and acquaintances in a way that other forms of social interaction do not allow for, you can exchange the kind of chat and small talk that you would if you were spending time together, and similarly you can announce the larger and more important events in your life to a wider audience.

Richard Fisher, writing in New Scientist, notes that humans have the cognitive capacity to maintain around 150 genuine social relationships, the Dunbar Number, but the advent of social networking allows many times this amount in what are termed 'weak ties' or loose/informal acquaintances.  Quoting the evolutionary anthropologist Robin Dunbar of the University of Oxford, Dunbar says that social networking sites appear to be "very good for servicing relationships, but not for building them de novo."
Other researchers into online social networking have put forward the possibility that regular, and attentive, users of sites like Facebook may be more likely to be liked in face to face social interactions as a result of their online interaction.  How can this come about ? Suppose Mary puts pictures of her new kittens up on her Facebook page, Terry sees them but Simon does not use the site, when they meet for their regular Thursday lunch, Terry tells Helen how cute he thinks the kittens are and asks questions about them.  Terry also asks Helen about the cake comment she made earlier in the week when she said she was baking angel cake for the first time.  Helen may feel subconsciously flattered by these questions and comments, and she is interested in Terry's line of conversation because this is both a shared interest and focuses attention on her.
One criticism often voiced by people that do not use online networking is that the sites "are not real life." This seems an odd comment, or perhaps it is just a sign of the times, was there an age in which people might have said that telephone conversations were not real or that text messaging wasn't real.  Social networking is as real as any other part of our social interaction, and the explosion in popularity of the big networking sites has led to some changes in social interaction that were largely unforeseen, that the main demographic for playing online games would shift away from teenage boys and young men to middle aged women is reaping big benefits for companies like Zynga who provide free games like Mafia Wars and Farmville but then sell linked advertising and in game bonus packages.

I appreciate that are people who just do not want the type of pervasive interaction that online networking brings.  From my own viewpoint though, I have been sharing elements of my life with anyone who wants to read it on the blog for 8 years, I like Facebook and its ability to link people, I'm quite keen on Foursquare as well with its blend of social interaction and gameplay.  There are also a host of more genre specific social networking/gameplay sites appearing as well, Gowalla which seems the main rival to Foursquare, Corkbin, Fiddme and the like are all seeking to carve out their own niche in our online time.
I do think that life would be a little bit poorer without Facebook and its ilk, I have friends that I exchange regular messages with that otherwise I wouldn't write to, it is to a great degree the ease of use of the site that allows friendships to be maintained.  I also have a friends there (and yes, these are friends that I have never met in the flesh) that I chat / message / correspond with that without online networking I wouldn't know at all.  The age of global networking has allowed us all to have penfriends around the world.
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Last Night's Menu

pork chop schemeImage via Wikipedia
We're just a bit cheaper than the Box Tree...

Chicken Korma Curry Platter,


with rice, poppadom and mini Indian starters 7.00


Keema Bhuna (mince beef) Curry Platter,

with rice, poppadom and mini Indian starters 6.50


8oz Rib Eye Steak

served with chips, rocket salad and pepper sauce 9.00


Blackened Cajun Chicken Breast

on our creamy risotto, with a selection of vegetables 7.00


10oz Rosemary and Garlic Rubbed Pork Chop

with dauphin potatoes, balsamic jus and vegetables 8.00


Pan Seared Duck Breast

with dauphin potatoes, balsamic jus and vegetables 9.50


Grilled Basa Fillet with Asparagus

lemon and parsley butter, new potatoes and vegetables

Basa is a tender white fish not unlike Sea Bass 7.50


Tender Cod Loin

grilled, served on our creamy risotto with vegetables 7.50



Raspberry Tart 3.00
Cartmel Sticky Toffee Pudding 2.50
Tart Citron 3.00
Berry Brulee Cheesecake 3.00


Sorry I didn't have time to photograph any of the food as it went out.
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Roll Call

Image of Saskia Adams from FacebookImage of Saskia Adams
Yesterday we hosted the IGC Mixed Open event which attracted 170+ golfers to play at Ilkley on a day of warm but mixed weather.  For one reason or another we were slightly short staffed but everyone did a sterling effort in getting the hungry golfers fed and watered. Rob W, Hannah, Julia, Sadie, Fred and Saskia, well done everyone, I appreciate all your efforts.

After the evening service had finished last night we the second shift sat down together and had dinner together.  I enjoy eating with the staff, but it does remind me how different we are here from some other places. 

Quite a few years ago I worked at a little place by a river, and when the shift was over there everyone was allowed some dinner.  The chefs cooked a nice meal for the husband and wife who owned the place, and everyone else was 'allowed' a cheese or egg sandwich. I don't know whether they did this as some sort of deliberately divisive show to better demonstrate the us and them air that pervaded the place, or whether they were just fools who didn't realise how it made them look to the staff.

The upshot of course was all the staff 'stole' food whilst the shift was running, and so didn't really want a cheese butty later on.  This would please my employers even more, as they falsely believed they had saved the minor expense of cheese and two bits of bread.

Last night I had made too much curry, so the four of us sat down to a curry feast, if we have done a carvery then all the staff get a roast dinner, bat staff included.  I like sitting down to eat with the crew, they're a really nice bunch of kids, funny, articulate and bright, and it is good to have a short time when you can just chat and socialise together.

On a completely different subject, I have illustrated this piece with a photo of waitress Saskia via my Zementa tool.  Saskia's photo, along with some others of staff I mentioned earlier, came up in the the suggestion box notated as 'Non free, but could qualify as fair use.'  I presume that these people have made their photos public on Facebook and so they can be pulled into feed systems like Zementa.


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Saturday, July 24, 2010

Tales of Hoop - Tonse

Tonse walked slowly down Pell Lane as the dirty gray dawn light began to demonstrate that today's clouds were, if anything, even more rain filled then yesterdays.  He had, as nearly always, finished work very late the previous night, and had slept for only a few hours in the room that was barely larger than his bulky frame.  He chewed on a cold pastry, bought cheaply from the baker's back door, cut price for those unlucky enough to be setting off for work before the first fresh batch of hot slices were placed enticingly near the open window.

A thin rain began to fall, a miserly rain, a mizzling shower.  Tonse brushed crumbs from his beard and paused a moment to flex his bad leg, the fleshwerk done by the backstreet surgeon was a poor job, it ached and throbbed in the cold and was a mass of alternating smooth, bulbous and hairy patches to look at. But at least he could walk, and work, again.

He looked ahead to the gaudy but faded door that led to the butterfly girl's bower, the doorway was empty, that was a bad sign.  Tonse pushed at the painted door and it swing open, the chamber beyond was dark, he swallowed a rising mixture of fear and resentment.  Tonse stepped inside and waited, allowing his eyes to become used to the dim light inside.   He breathed in, the place reeked of stale wine, tobacco and the damp musty smell of broken chrysalis, the paper thin cases lay crushed all around him along with other detritus of a nights bacchanal, empty bottles, drifts of ash.

Giura lay bent backwards over a divan, her slight chest moved almost imperceptibly, her wings ruffled and squashed beneath her, trails of glittering scales on the walls and furniture of the room showed where the girls had danced in drunken flight.  The other girls were tucked up on their bower beds, or sprawled as if dead on the floor.  The corpse of a male lay to the side of the door, he was shrivelled and drawn in, his chrysalis only partly spun.  Tonse shuddered, the male must have witnessed what happened to the pupa of his colleagues and held off pupating until it was too late.

"Oh Giura," he reached out and touched one finger to the girl's forehead. "Why must you always be this way."

She shifted slightly, the weak light catching in the hundred lenses of her eyes and for a moment Tonse was dizzied by the army of his own reflections.  Her proboscis was stained purple with chrysalis fluid, her narrow pipe cleaner tongue flicking snakelike from its end.  The butterfly girl spoke clumsily, they were hard to understand at any time, their mouth parts being largely unsuited to any human tongue.

"Not today Tonse, we cannot today," she clicked and wheezed the words.

The huge fleshwerked man glared down at her, his ham hock hands clenched and opened and clenched, and then with a guttural growl he turned and left. He grabbed the door to slam it, then caught himself and let it close with a soft click.  Now he would be forced to hire shifty jackboys from the market in order to complete the day's work, he hated the jackboys, they worked to the letter and clause.  In the evening he would pass this way again, and like every day he would hand over the most part of his day's earnings to the butterfly girls, he might stay a while and drink with them until their pheromones attracted the males, then he would make his excuses.

Love was a strange thing, Tonse loved the girls even though their flighty nature jarred deeply with his sense of duty, he loved them and he thought that was his decision, never once did he stop to think that the pheromones they used to beguile the dim witted males might also have some effect on a fleshwerked human.

(The painting is Der Schmetterlingsjäger by Carl Spitsweg 1808-85)

Risotto

When it comes to cooking dinner for Meg and myself, I can be basically lazy, and so making risotto is great on two counts, it tastes good, and you can chuck it all in one pan making cooking nice and simple.

One of my favourite ingredients is chorizo sausage, the one I have used in the risotto is the larger, mild, salami sized sausage, but any chorizo is good, it infuses the risotto with its piquant richness.

Ingredients, I don't measure anything, it's all just chucked in.

Finely diced onion, diced celery, thin sliced mushrooms, diced chorizo, chopped garlic, these are sauteed for a couple of minutes before adding the Arborio rice.  Then add some white wine and good flavoured chicken stock and cook out until the risotto has reached the correct consistency. 

Just before the end of cooking, chuck in some parmesan, peas and diced cooked chicken breast and a splash of cream, I grilled a few extra bits of chorizo to go on top.

If You Can Afford It...



Menu at the Box Tree, Ilkley.

Friday, July 23, 2010

Book Review : Eunoia - Christian Bok 9*

This is an absolute delight, Canadian poet Christian Bok's book is a giant word game, each chapter may use only one vowel, it should exhaust the lexicon for that vowel, it should describe a set number of events, it should minimise repetition and accent internal rhyme so it reads almost like poetry.

Despite the restrictions he has placed upon the work, the result is witty and clever, the stanzas read beautifully whatever their content, the word play is a joy and a delight to read. I was charmed and entertained all the way through, everything here on this flight through vocabulary is intelligent, well constructed and very funny, an absolute joy from beginning to end..
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Thursday, July 22, 2010

If Looks Could Kill

Alberto Contador dans la montée Avenue de Cogn...Image via Wikipedia
Sometimes in sport you get that added something, that clash of personalities and wills that lifts a game or event above the run of the mill.  Sometimes it comes early on as a form of intimidation, that would be the stare an opening batsman received from Curtley Ambrose for having the temerity to survive the first ball of the day. Sometimes it comes mid event, that would be Roy Keane's mad eyed glare giving you a moments advance notice of an incoming leg breaker tackle.

Sometimes though the clash of wills comes when two competitors have pushed themselves to utmost limit, and realising that they have done all they physically can to beat the other man, it hasn't been enough, and in a state of near desperation they seek to impose them self on their opponent by sheer force of will.

One of those moments came this afternoon in the Tour De France, towards the end of a brutal mountain stage the two men broke away from the peloton on the climb to the summit of the Col De Tourmalet.  Andy Schleck kept the lead with Alberto Contador on his wheel as they toiled up the fog shrouded mountain road, the pace Schleck kept had dropped every man off his tail, except Contador, who clung limpet like to him.  The strain was visible on both men's faces, Schleck was the man that needed the break, but striving as hard as he could he could not shake Contador off.

Following the earlier controversy when Contador failed to halt after Schleck lost his chain on the run in, there was already a palpable air of tension between the leading two riders, and as they stood up on their machines and forced their way up the final mountain stage that tension seemed to break.  Schleck had failed to shake Contador, Contador had tried to charge but in return could not lose Schleck.

Then came the look, Schleck dropped back so that the men were riding abreast and he glared at Contador from inches away, words were exchanged, mostly from the Frenchman, the Spaniard kept his own counsel.  Schleck continued to stare at his rival, but Contador remained impassive and the men crossed the finish line almost together.  After the race they shared a brief hug and congratulated each other, but on turning away their smiles vanished, they had shared an epic day, but each was disappointed at not beating the other.

There are only 2 days remaining in this year's Tour, a long stage tomorrow, then a short time trail, and lastly one of the shortest final days ever in a TdF, all 3 days should provide breaks and sprint finishes, and with the two leaders neck and neck, and Sanchez and Mendov only three minutes behind them, nobody can afford any mistakes in the final days.
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Looking Up The Valley



The shot above was taken during Tuesday's storms and cloudbursts, the shot below was last night when a lovely golden sunset infused the valley.

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Restaurant Reviews, I'm Not Doing Them Any More

But if I did, I'd have to say that last night's dinner at Farsyde was quite wonderful.  The restaurant was packed, but service was good and the food arrived promptly, and the food was brilliant. I had a trio of tuna in 3 different marinades, all were soft, succulent and brimming with flavour, my duck main course was pink and tender with a nicely flavoured jus, an apple tartlet and a confit rosti, great levels of invention and superbly cooked as always.

On Monday night I had rump steak at Bart'at  with some very decently priced South African Pinotage and a pint or three from their ever changing selection of cask ales, good flavoured steak, just right for a blokes night out/put the world to rights session.

Today I had planned to dine at Azucar in Leeds, but having taken the opening times from a listings site and not from their own site we arrived to find it closed. We wandered along the road to Ciao Bella and had the special lunch menu, I had pate and pizza, Stuart went for garlic creamed mushrooms then pasta with olives and anchovies, it was OK rather than brilliant, great company though.  Afterwards we exchanged birthday books, Stuart got The City And The City by China Mieville from me, I got Cider With Rosie by Laurie Lee from Stuart, thence on to Leeds' most ancient drinking establishment Whitelocks for some more beers.

Nice to have a few shifts off, back to work now.
Four nuns were standing in line at the gates of heaven. Peter asks the first if she has ever sinned.
"Well, once I looked at a man's penis," she said.
"Put some of this holy water on your eyes and you may enter heaven," Peter told her. Peter then asked the second nun if she had ever sinned.
"Well, once I held a man's penis," she replied.
"Put your hand in this holy water and you may enter heaven," he said. Just then the fourth nun pushed ahead of the third nun.
Peter asked her, "Why did you push ahead in line?"
She said, "Because I want to gargle before she sits in it!"

Monday, July 19, 2010

Addingham Weir Today


...and a month ago.

Maurice Garin, initially declared winner of th...Image via Wikipedia
On This Day...

In 1903, Maurice Garin, an Italian who later took French nationality, won the inaugural Tour De France.  The first Tour had only six stages, but they were massive, each stage was on average around 400km long.  The TdF was invented by the magazine L'Auto to boost circulation over its arch rival Le Velo, this proved such a success that the Tour became an annual event and Le Velo was driven out of business.

Garin won three of the six stages on the first Tour, and he returned in 1904 to defend his title but that race descended into scandal and farce and Garin and other riders were expelled from the Tour after accusations that they had cheated by taking trains between checkpoints.

In this year's race, Andy Schleck still wears the yellow jersey and Alberto Contador is only half a minute behind him.
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Film Review : Dead Snow 7*

High in the mountains above a Norwegian fjord is a winter cabin where a group of young people are due to spend their Easter holiday, little do they know that the area is inhabited by a large group of Zombie Nazis !

This isn't the most serious horror film I've ever seen, even with my complete lack of Norwegian this black comedy horror film raises a chuckle or two, and the odd fright.

The film is soaked in gore, arterial blood sprays regularly decorate the scenery, people get eaten, you get to see a lot of entrails and despite the students discussing the pitfalls of the young people in horror movies, they still split up to allow the zombie Nazis to catch them more easily.

Dead Snow references other films both in the genre, the Evil Dead homage towards the end, and in other genres with the quotes from Indiana Jones but really it's just a blood spattered gore fest with a bunch of won't stay dead mouldy blokes.  Quite well made, funny in a horrible way, a bit scary, not too serious.

Sunday, July 18, 2010

Henchmen Of The Dormant Mirror

All the life of the city swirls and eddies in the clamorous din of the Grand Bazaar. Light fingered step boys sidle through the crowds of Middle Towners, Guildsmen and freejacks, their eyes seem glued on some trinket on a stall, drawing your attention to where you think theirs lies, and then their hands are busy at your belt and purse.  House Matrons with their train of uniformed girls push through the crowds, parting the masses like magisterial ice breakers move the floes, they are alert to the step boys and a cane whips out scoring the hand of a thief foolish enough to try and distract the governess.

At the farthest reach of the bazaar, close under the crumbling ring walls, the Henchmen lurk, the flaps of their shoddy and mould tainted yurt partially obscuring the shrouded mirror within. The Henchmen could be twins, so similar in height, broad girth and unkempt facial hair are they, they dress in old clothes that are not quite peasant's garb, but which does not mark them as successful merchants either, soft breeks, patched leather coats and wide brimmed hats which serve to hood their eyes.  Beneath that brim though their eyes are wetly vigilant, in a moment they appraise and discard the hundreds that flow past their door, eyes flickering from passerby to passerby, seeking the one they can lure inside.

Everyone knows the legend of the Dormant Mirror, how the mirror's owner was lost inside it and only the sacrifice of a score times her beauty and wit would appease it and release her from the prison of replication.  So the Henchmen hunt, and a hundred folk might walk into that tent, see the henchman's hand pull the dark cloth from the mirror, and then see nothing reflected in the pitted and mildewed surface.  Sometimes though, some young and beautiful creature enters that lair and they are not seen again, and then the yurt remains closed and rapidly falls into disrepair until it is naught more than a rotten heap of skins and sticks.
Airedale Terrier from 1915Image via Wikipedia
Born And Bred In Yorkshire

The Airedale Terrier, once known as the King of Terriers as it was the largest of the terrier breeds, was bred by Thomas Foster from Bingley.  Foster crossed Black And Tan Terriers with Otterhounds to create the new breed which was designed to be a working dog that could tackle large and small prey, swim well and be broken to gun.

The breed was at first called the Bingley Terrier, but Foster suggested the name change to Airedale at a National Dog Show in 1883
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The Black And White Minstrels Beachwear Show ?



Nope, your guess is probably better than mine...
The Art Of Alex Andreyev


You can browse and buy Alex's art on his website A Separate Reality.
Future, n.

That period of time in which our affairs prosper, our friends are true and our happiness is assured. Ambrose Bierce, The Devil's Dictionary.
Book Review : Dicks - Garth Ennis & John McCrea 7*

Garth Ennis cheerfully notes that he's going to Hell for writing this one, and a brief scan of the appallingly bad taste contents will tell you why.  Ennis also points out that you are going to Hell with him just for reading it, oh well, time to get toasty then.

Dicks reads like a late night drunken pub conversation with your mates when you try to tell a joke so sick that everyone else will recoil in horror. Specific reasons for Ennis facing a one way pass to the Underworld might well include the creation of the pro-abortion superhero The Aborter, with his catchphrase of "Coathanger on!", or perhaps the other intermittent character Trio might be the cause for his burning (she's very friendly, especially with three men at a time).
Garth Ennis, Northern Irish comics writer best...Image via Wikipedia

Dicks is, to be honest, an absolute bloody disgrace from beginning to end, it is puerile, deliberately provocative, mindlessly violent, and  very funny to boot.  What is it about, well, we have two Northern Irish protagonists during the days of para-military and Parachute Regiment violence, struggling to get by in Belfast.  They decide to become private eyes, thus the title, or perhaps the title is just because they're a pair of complete pricks.

The plot, such as it is, is even more surreal than the wilder moments of Preacher, and involves vast amounts of toilet humour, violent death by threshing machines and gags about masturbation.  A shortlist of people who may well be offended by Dicks might begin with the Ulster Volunteer Force, Royal Ulster Constabulary, vicars, women, country folk, normal people, abnormal people, quite weird people and even the Reverend Ian Paisley, feel free to add yourself to the list of the offended, or hell bound, if you dare.


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The Royal British LegionImage via Wikipedia
Remembering The Few

The Royal British Legion will he holding a  number of events late this summer to commemorate the man who fought in the Battle Of Britain, 2010 sees the 70th anniversary of the failed German attempt to destroy the RAF.

The summer newsletter tells the story of John 'Cocksparrow' Ellis, a Hurricane pilot shot down on September 1st 1940, and whose remains, entombed in the buried cockpit of his downed fighter plane, were only found in a Kent field in 1992.

RAF Fighter Command, immortalised in Winston Churchill's speech as 'the few' held off repeated attacks by the Luftwaffe but at a terrible human cost to the brave young man flying the planes. 

The Royal British Legion works to support vulnerable older veterans, and the summer campaign seeks to raise funds for a new dementia unit at Galanos House, a Poppy Care Home in Warwickshire.
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Saturday, July 17, 2010

Ilkley Sky




- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Location:Ilkley,United Kingdom

The book poster for "The Jungle Book,&quo...Image via Wikipedia
Electronic Books, Any Good Then ?

I downloaded three of the most popular book reading applications for the i-Phone ("It's not broken - you're holding it wrong" - attr. Steve Jobs) to see if reading books on a small screen could be in any way comparable to reading a real paper book.

I have to say, that although debate might simmer over which of the actual devices is better, when the Kindle, Stanza and i-Book are compared on the i-Phone, there isn't a whole lot of difference in how the apps work or indeed in their appearance.

I first tried reading Mary Shelley's The Last Man, this wasn't easy on the small screen, Shelley's large dense paragraphs of descriptive prose entirely filled the screen and made getting through the first few pages a difficult task.  There just isn't enough space onscreen, or perhaps I'm just not used to the format yet.

I swapped over to the i-Book where I had downloaded The Jungle Book by Rudyard Kipling, this was incredibly easy to read, small paragraphs and concise bits of dialogue made for very easy going indeed, an ideal electronic book.  I finished The Jungle Book in two days just by reading bits when at work in between orders.

Both Stanza and i-Book give you access to loads of e-books, I havn't bought a book yet, but I have downloaded a heap of free classics from Project Gutenberg on the Stanza and from similar free resources on the i-Book.  Many of the books you can find for free on these two devices will cost you money if you get them for the Kindle, and the Amazon/Kindle purchasing interface is far less slick and easy to navigate than the other two.

I don't think that any of these apps are ever going to lure me away from reading real books, indeed I bought four books yesterday, but for some purposes, not having to carry a book and a phone when going out for example, I have a dread fear of spending any time at all without a book. Can you imagine what train / bus / plane journeys would be like without being able to read ? Oh the horror.

On the subject of books, I spent the book tokens yesterday that Mum and Dan in law kindly gave me for my birthday, my haul (bought from the nicely independent Grove Bookshop) was...

Curiosities of Literature - John Sutherland
Eunoia - Christian Bok
The Noticeably Stouter Book Of General Ignorance - John Lloyd & John Mitchinson
Professor Stewart's Cabinet of Mathematical Curiosities - Ian Stewart

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Friday, July 16, 2010

Only In Ilkley

Can you persuade people to part with almost TEN QUID ! for a jar of honey, and this is at Tesco, it's not even some posh shop.