Irvine Welsh, that well-known English author...

I'm sure everyone has heard about this: the US Library of Congress (whose catalogue is used, for example, by the Edinburgh City Library system) has decided that Scottish literature is, now, little more than a minority group under English literature - removing more than 40 subject headings from the catalogue. There's a good explanation of the bizarre decision here. If nothing else, there's sure to be some confusion when little US housewives try to make sense of the more dialect-based work that will now be marked as being definitively English...

This is really clever

...apparently. Whatever 'This' is.

I love a good puzzle in the morning.

Trees!

This poor tree on Marchmont Road has become irrevocably entwined with the fence. It's strangely beautiful, seeing nature conforming to humanity's creations. Perhaps one day all natural things will arrange themselves so that we leave them be rather than needing to alter them.

And then I noticed that the trees along Coronation Walk on the Meadows were all tilting towards the centre of town. Presumably the wind is more often than not coming across the Meadows from the South West.

Ollie's HIV Is Legend

Today saw the return of Young Mister Oliver. So I went to his house, did some tidying and then filled him with tea and nachos before giving him the HIV.

Isn't it the cutest darned HIV you ever did see? Alas, just being in possession of a plush retrovirus does not guarantee a fun-filled evening. And so we decided to go take in a film. I pushed for Enchanted and was shot down. I suggested St Trinian's and was similarly denied. Ollie wanted to see I Am Legend, and Stephen's brood (still with a visiting Michael and temporarily with Blair as well) were keen on that too, so off to Cineworld for the eight o'clock show. I like having a student card. If you pay less for a film you feel less cheated when the film, almost inevitably of late, disappoints. Stephen and Michael turned up halfway through the trailers; Blair had been taken back to Fife (the poor dear) and Joe... well, Joe wasn't leaving the house. The film started with Emma Thompson and failed to show her again, which I think was their first error. She's far more interesting than Will Smith. Blah blah... virus... 90% dead... less than 1% immune... remainder behave like dodgy photophobic zombies... I have to say, the most entertaining thing was Ollie's rapid descent into I don't like this film it's far too scary AAAARGH what's about to happen I can't watch!! Needless to say, I spent an equal amount of time reminding him that I wanted cutesy Disney and that the scary film was his choice. Mwahaha.

I'm losing track of the Killer Virus films of recent years. 12 Monkeys; 28 Days Later (and the sequel); Resident Evil (and its sequels); I Am Legend; there are sure to be more that I've either not seen or forgotten. Is this the new Aliens? Instead of using Extra-Terrestrial Life as a metaphor for those terrifying creatures across the Iron Curtain, we now have invisible, unfightable, contagious terror which can strike anytime. So are apocalyptic diseases Hollywood's way of dealing with Terrorism? If so, can they please get some better writers because I'm sick of waiting for the new Mars Attacks!

UPDATE: According to Joe, who has just read the 1954 book which inspired the film (along with two others, not to mention giving birth to the idea of explaining vampirism rather than just having it happen), this Hollywood farce bears almost no resemblance to the original story. The book apparently reads like a screenplay, being mostly plot-driven, but they've ditched all but the most basic concepts in order to make a Will Smith Film. Which kinda sucks. Clearly Peter Jackson's miraculous adaptation of LotR has led to every Tom, Dick and Harry (or in this case, Mark, Akiva and Francis) thinking they can play fast and loose with novels and make a killing.

I also spent more time playing with my phone camera (click on the photo to see what it's supposed to do):

Nagging already!

After less than a week I'm already being pestered to Do This Thing on a daily basis. I think perhaps some people are missing the point. I was very gratified to find that my surprise gift of HIV had been received and not taken the wrong way. As the giftee said, it's the gift that keeps on giving! I recently force-upgraded my Nokia N95's firmware to 20 point something in the hopes that it would sort out some odd little problems it's been experiencing. As a result, everything seems to be faster and better. I spent some time this evening fiddling with it rather than talk to the people I was with in a pub I didn't want to be in. It's very exciting having things happen when you tell them to, rather than waiting for the tiny machine to think long and hard, only to perform the task in its own sweet time. As you can see, young Michael was unimpressed by my phone's new improved willingness to take photos efficiently. Note the Cheers-era Harrelson-esque look of disgruntled bafflement. And the menthol cigarette through the ear (flesh tunnels may actually have a use!). Delightful. I'm trying to get my drives sorted and install Ubuntu. This should be easy as a Linda McCartney imitation chicken pie. However, I had a trial version of Vista installed a while ago and have had to do some major data management to clear that drive and reformat it. And now I have to put everything back before I can tidy up and make a niche for the new OS. Vista, BTW, is frightfully pretty but until it's been around for a year or so longer I'm not touching it. Too messy, too many bugs, not enough security and overmuch DRM! Ubuntu, on the other hand, has improved enormously since I last tried it about 18 months ago, and I have high hopes that I may be able to shift about 75% of my PC usage away from Microsoft. What a dream! I'm terribly keen to see how Linux might take advantage of my hardware. I know XP doesn't care very much about it. I occasionally get little messages from my hardware along the lines of "I feel used", and "Why doesn't Windows appreciate my simple joy and efficiency?" So we'll see.

The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya

... is very odd. And that's about all I can say about it, other than recommending it to anyone who likes non-conventional anime that doesn't rely on any clichés except to mess with them. Of course it also has an insanely bouncy theme tune. It seems to be a rule that all the most enjoyable anime must also have addictive music associated with it. Neon Genesis Evangelion, RE: Cutie Honey, Eureka 7 (with these four sets of themes you are spoiling us, Ambassador), Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex (Series 1 - I didn't fall for the second theme nearly as much), Janguru wa Itsumo Hare nochi Gū (three for the price of one), Furi Curi (with three whole CDs of original music, thank you The Pillows), Diebuster, Lucky Star (ok that's not actually enjoyable but it is relentlessly jolly)... I'm concerned by how many of that list are Gainax productions. That is, I think, more than enough anime nerdery for today. I'm going back to Hairspray. Really.

Quote of the day

"He had two Christmases. His mum's German."

I love the simplicity of that explanation.

“Did you have a merry Christmas?”

There are only so many ways you can defuse that question safely. It’s worse than the pointless “So… you got anything nice planned this weekend?” and its coda, “So… did you do anything nice this weekend?” I do rather suspect that if the conversation has become banal enough for these to be worthwhile gambits then it’s probably time to get back to work. What do people expect when they ask such questions? Platitudes. I’m no good at this level of small talk, it’s dangerously likely that I’ll tell the truth: “Welllll... since you ask, this weekend was really little more than a couple of empty, lonely days spent hunched over a keyboard destroying my eyes and wasting my life away, pausing only for brief sustenance”, which I don’t think would go down well. That’s not really what I did at the weekend, BTW. There have been weekends like that, but not recently. Honest! I’m now immersing myself in the Hairspray OST. Still fabulous. Still dancing in my chair, only at work now which causes a few askance glances. Who cares? Welcome to the Sixties!!

Momma, I'm a big girl now!

Hairspray. A gift from John Waters in 1988 which kept on giving, giving us Rikki Lake. And like so many John Waters films it was simultaneously a triumph and a WTF? When I first saw posters advertising the remake I despaired. Not being a fan of the original does not prevent me from bemoaning a remake less than 20 years after the original. Soon we'll be seeing remakes of, I don't know, The Matrix? How long can a film/TV Show be kept sacrosanct before they decide to modernise it? But. Having said that, I spent most of Hairspray 2007 giggling, cheering and dancing in my chair. It's astonishingly fabulous and I'm going to watch it again later. And again. And I may put it on my phone so that I can watch it at work tomorrow. I really should trust people more when they rave about something. Now. Where can I find more spectacular musicals with over-the-top dance routines? Other than Once More, With Feeling?

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas...

... in Russell T Davies land, at least. As Doctor Who continues to dumb down for the growing American audience I find myself cheering when the next cliche arrives rather than dreading them - the only alternative being to turn it off in disgust. The programme has become so tongue in cheek that it's no wonder Tennant spends all his time snogging the help these days - they're probably just going for a platonic peck. [Pause for audience groaning]

After being up late playing with food and playing pointless games, I woke up amazingly early soon after 9am. Looked out the window to see a delightful not-quite-white-but-at-least-it's-cold morning. Ahhhh. After 2 Prison Breaks worth of chopping and mixing stuffing this morning I went on strike in anticipation of the imminent arrival of Stephen's Family. Three hours of Overlord later they arrive, in a flurry of iPod Touches and Christmassey food which I had already chopped. Hm. So they set down to making Carrot and Coriander soup (which would lead to an amusing story of trying to make it taste of something in the absence of gluten-free stock cubes, but I shan't go into that now) and, pausing only to stuff the turkey and tamper with it generally, I went back to Overlord. Then there was the jolly three sets of potatoes to roast (we went for two in the end) and the little baguettes and then Lewis (Stephen's little brother who had, up to about four o'clock been amusing himself mostly with his new iPod) decides that he's hungry and annoying. Don't get me wrong, he's always annoying, but if you give him just the right amount of technology he shuts up for a while. Enter the soup. Enter the Main Course: turkey crown with stuffing (hand-mixed from cranberries, walnuts, gluten-free stuffing mix and the last darned pot of gluten-free sausage mean in the country), surrounded with small onions and pink cava (don't ask); fluffy roast potatoes without skin and crunchy ones with skin; sprouts, broccoli, carrot and swede mash; pigs in blankets drenched in garlic and a pair or gravies, one for me made from the meaty juices and one for the Blythes from a microwaveable packet from Tesco. And then Lewis barely touched his dinner. But kept asking for dessert. Children! He was eventually placated with a Chocolate Bombe, because I bought the wrong chestnut puree. Time well spent helping Stephen with his shiny new espresso machine, watching Dr Who and the Inevitable Question of Why They Cast Kylie In That Role. Trying to watch To The Manor (re)Born but with no joy... I think Christmas is over for this year. Except for all of the leftover presents to arrive and distribute. And some for me (woo!) perhaps.

Stephen prepares for Christmas Day

Actually, the remaining preparation is mostly up to me. Chopping the veg, mixing up the stuffing, mopping the kitchen... And i have to make some food to eat in there somewhere.

O jolly X-mas eve doings!

I do love journalistic language

Well then, here we go.

Blah blah it's inevitable. And yes, It'll never be updated. But it might be interesting and surely trying to write something every day is good for your brain. Surely? It seems I played with blogger, abortively, back in the pre-Google days (shock horror!). I had to tie the address to my Google account. It felt so Web 1.5, I almost wept with reminiscence. Christmas Eve doesn't feel like Christmas at all this year. Perhaps it's because I'm in work; perhaps because I've only put decorations up at work, rather than the usual 3000 lights scattered around me; perhaps because it's so gosh-darnedly warm! Yesterday afternoon the ground was wet, rather than frozen, the air was almost warm and there were birds singing in the naked trees. I still haven't had to resort to trousers yet and yet my legs are not even chilly. Mostly I think it's due to not visiting IKEA nearly enough of late. Christmas tastes of Sweden. Or vice versa. This morning, when waiting for the bus, I had to scurry round the corner to hide because the Crazy Man of the moment was approaching. This chap, rarely seen without a canister of butane up his sleeve, recently accosted me on the bus and started asking for advice on how to gain weight. Which I felt was a little cheeky. He then, a few days ago, caught Stephen and Joe at the back of a bus and started on them. Stephen quickly made a break for the relative safety of Me but Joe, being a good polite boy, couldn't drag himself away and spent the rest of the evening in a contemplative haze. So on seeing Crazy Man this morning I bolted. And now. To work.