I don’t know about you, but I think the internet is outrageously useful for pursuing and perusing the objects of nostalgia. I love finding emulators of video games I used to play, searching for tv programmes, cartoons, and films I used to watch, generally mincing down the memory-superhighway. [what the fuck is a superhighway anyway? have you ever seen one? I haven't even heard of one, except as a metaphor].
Finding this stuff brings back memories really sharply, like catching a whiff of a distinctive smell of an old home or haunt or else.
Anyhow, whilst browsing Youtube the other night I was disgusted to find this abasement of a treasured institution of many of our childhoods, which actually made me weep like an orphaned lamb.
Although on second thoughts, a lot of eighties stuff for kids was pretty disturbing without any modern day fiddling:
In the usual fire drill-gone-wrong of the days leading up to a holiday, space and time seemed to get on top of me, though less than usual if truth be told. I had loads of things to blog about but whenever I got time to write, my bloody mysql server seemed to be down.
But thanks to the new wordpress iPhone app I can sit with my feet in the sand in a beachfront cafe and leisurely tap out a blog. Despite the iPhone’s merits, I can only post photos at the end. But, nevermind, I have only two for you.
Firstly is the bizarre sineage at Heathrow terminal 4: all the prayer room signs have been put in back to front. In my extremely exhausted state, I genuinely questioned my sanity. What is the reason for this tomfoolery? Perhaps the person who put them in cannot speak English or doesn’t like religion.
Secondly, is a photo of the sunset on this beach. I love holidays.
My friend the artist Miss Lucy Ward has been documenting her tea drinking habits with the assiduous scrutiny of a serial killer. Check out this excellent artpiece website: http://everycupofteaieverhad.co.uk/.
Now I am pretty sure it is not quite every cup of tea Lucy has ever had. But it is certainly every cup since last October. However the name certainly has a good ring to it, it scans quite nicely. I approve of good scansion. Ahh the trochee …[blahablahablahabalah]
I love how she has used scraps of paper with different prints/ marks on them. I love how they are like abstracted photos, with excellently curt commentary. And I also love the Englishness of marking your life with the passage of tea. Eliot once wrote: ‘I have measured out my life with coffee spoons’, which aptly… [yakyakyakyakyakyakketyyak]
Go yonder and have a look at the site, it is really fun. Incidentally, if Lucy’s other half, Jack Frost, had to draw ‘everycupofteaievermade’ it wouldn’t take him long. Not because he is a speedy draughtsman, but because he simply refuses to make tea out of principle. He is now stuck. He cannot break his principle after all the hard work he has put into nagging others to make tea (usually in preposterous circumstances). Pah.
I found a couple of cups of tea I had shared with Lucy (below is one from New Year’s Day).
Immortalized in a tea chronicle. Hows about that then?
My local corner-shop steps up its new high-pressure marketing strategy
The arabian gentleman prefers English, don’t you know
Things are tough down Chelsea. There is a sale in the dinosaur shop to boost business
My (excelllent) local Irish butcher spreads the luck for a pound a pop. I thought it was just cress, but the butcher assured me I was wrong even though he was clearly drunk
