House of cups

Strangely pleased to see/hear that a modern coffee cup made it through all the continuity checks and sneaked into a scene on Game of Thrones episode 4 (Series 8). Possibly a clever piece of product placement as all good conspiracy theorists might say, like the Audi cars in Avengers End Game. Shame it had to be a Starbucks cup and not one from our local Stephens who actually do better coffee. In truth most bought coffee is better than Starbucks but then my judgement is clouded and warped when it comes to the large coffee chains. Kind of breaks the illusion though, I thought Game of Thrones was real and that Starbucks had to be imaginary.

Egg type issues

Today's easy to answer breakfast time question centred around eggs. "Would you/could you eat a duck egg if a duck (not necessarily the duck that laid the egg) happened to be in the same room?" It turns out that some people would indeed do this, I'm not so sure myself. What if it was a male duck with nothing to do with the actual unfertilized egg? 

Would I eat a Big Mac surrounded by a herd of beef cattle? Would I eat a BLT adjacent to a piggery or indeed in a pig sty or just sitting on the wall? Would I drink a milk shake in a milking shed? Would I eat fish and chips whilst paddling in a Victorian style sea water swimming pool (outside in the open air but possibly containing fish or even crabs). I don't even want to think about lamb bhuna. 

People and animals eat other animals all the time and have done so for millions of years. The problem is a complex one and centres on association and connection. Remaining disconnected from the reality of actual "things" (living and breathing animals) and the consequences of actions is a nice comfortable place to be, so we choose to avoid these confrontations with the real world and reset ourselves on a regular basis. It's an easy way out. Just poke a paperclip in your ear to perform it. All that and I just don't fancy duck eggs and in truth I'm wobbly on the whole meat thing now, particularly lamb.

Thankfully we don't eat our trees, we just chop them up and burn them.

Screenshots

Diary of a desktop: Some stats about gay "tolerance" in Europe, three made up Porsche bar-codes, a photo of a pizza that says "you cunt" in chopped peppers, two pictures of Rosyth in the early 20th century, the Cold War Steve Big Issue cover, a photo of the the cover of the book "How to keep your Volkswagen alive", Google Chrome icon, Now TV icon, Spotify icon. There are other things but they didn't appear because they're different kinds of files from the rest, or something like that. 

This has been a brief expose as to the intimate details of my current desktop. These are all liable to change at any time without notice. Thank you. I hope you find this post informative and entertaining.

Meta type view and summary. 

Unreported world

Not today but just the other day, the sun struggled to poke through clouds in the mid-morning something or other. It all happened in a place not too far away. Some dog walkers may also have witnessed the incident. The trees affected seemed OK as it turned out. Why was this not considered a news worthy item by any of the major agencies? 

Official Secrets

Gavin Williamson, a former Defence Minister they say, some Troops and a horse.

I signed the Official Secrets Act, way back in 1976. A time when we had proper secrets, as all old folks say. Of course the politicians then, like now, were dimwitted buffoons. Stuffed full of educated privilege, grey saliva and blinded by career prospects in some grand "office". The constant pressure not to put a foot wrong or say the wrong thing, tow the line and keep good counsel. Today nobody seems to know what the right thing might be, all woefully unsure of it or what form it might take, even it were to land in one's porridge. You can tell that this is a directionless and whispered rant. I'm not bitter and twisted, I'm just fed up with the collapse of the MoD I once knew and worked for and the political climate, the ignorant mismanagement of it all and people like Gavin Williamson (who may well have done nothing wrong apart from being ... ). No point in me saying much more, I might inadvertently reveal some official secret and be forced to resign or even dismissed from my post as Watcher of the Skies. Hold onto what you've got or stupid people might just steal it away.

Drama

Sorry for the picture quality. This three act drama took place in Brighton. I suspect however that it's a fairly regular event up north in the car park at Morrisons in St Andrews. As you chug your coffee and munch on a bun you can hear them pattering across the roof or your car, just there, watching, waiting for the moment to strike. Don't dare open a window.

Climbing up on Falkland Hill

Lunch today up on Falkland Hill or maybe East Lomond, who cares? Nice sunny spots with views across Fife as you might expect. Strangely enough the mobile phone/4G signal up there is great. No idea why this should be the case, technology is (almost) wonderful. 

NQ

Steps down to a watery place or up to a more agreeable and preferably drier one.

Breakwater: Note no broken water to be seen.

"I write to you from a strange time loop that finds me trapped in North Queensferry. I write to you from a strange time loop that finds me trapped in North Queensferry. I write to you from a strange time loop that finds me trapped in North Queensferry. I write to you from a strange time loop that finds me trapped in North Queensferry. I write to you from a strange time loop that finds me trapped in North Queensferry. I write to you from a strange time loop that finds me trapped in North Queensferry. ... BZZT! Send help." (Said nobody ever).

Hierarchy of incompetence

Still life with oil tanker.

For people who don't really know what they're doing I'd advise taking an occasional breath of fresh air whilst getting out and about, out and about, outside. If there's too many outs and abouts then it's about time you got out and sorted out your outs and abouts. For example today (whilst out) I pondered the problems and general pitfalls encountered in ordering and organizing fridge and chilled food storage. This was on both a daily and a rotational basis. It was that kind of day. The air was heavy with thunder and Ninja showers. Still I pressed on. I slowly came to the conclusion that despite being good at other things, fridge management was not one of them. So in my hierarchy of incompetence this figures highly as a failure of sorts. Once I'd mulled this over for a few moments I decided to take some photos of large and quite unrelated objects and forget the fridge problems for the time being.

Still life with bridge.

That awkward 3681st post

Another lost/misplaced/forgotten football.

Whilst going through yet another period of critical self examination I am, as ever partially inspired and guided by other people's song lyrics, quotes from films and the odd literary line (as well as inner voices, demons and so on). Today it's hard to find an applicable line. I rather like the idea of waking up in the morning and not recognising myself in the mirror, scary I suppose, unlikely and it's never happened, yet. There is that odd moment however when you might catch sight of yourself and see some aspect or angle of yourself that looks unfamiliar, like someone else but not quite. Maybe as a turnip head, a wolf or Clark Gable. I'm sure there's a word for it. Once in a while it happens with a photo. Maybe selfie chasers are hungry for this experience but cant quite articulate how it drives them. The quest to see yourself, the need to know yourself. What might that mean or even look like in a modern world? No matter how old or grizzled you get or how beautiful you might be it's never quite there, you cant get there. Travelling but not arriving. Maybe life is best explored in the way that a cat would navigate it's way around a garden, treading carefully but pissing on other people's plants and shrubs as you go, after a few moments of consideration of course.

Monoliths and Sentinels

Sneak preview of a stunning new exhibition featuring only simple items of Apple packaging re-imagined as apple packaging. No Apple packaging was injured during any part of the process, only fully certified Apple wranglers were used. None of this for profit or personal gain. Always nice to be watched over by these benevolent machines and their curated items of origin. Note: not all sentinels are monoliths and not all monoliths are sentinels.

Lost Footballs etc.

Two lost footballs, lost in woodland and pretty much worn out. Rescue not possible.

Devastation in central Fife, trees removed for economic reasons (which is reasonable).

More of that kind of thing.

A bend in the road, timber ready for collection, misty trees: Central Fife yesterday.

Three birthdays and a trip to A and E

So the weekend was a full one and it's Wednesday already and I've hardly had a moment. Somebody had a big birthday and others had regular birthdays. Life was strangely hectic and things flashed past at an incredible speed throwing me into a busy week at work accompanied by the dull anguish of an unexpected head injury. Family, friends and the NHS rallied to my support and it's now a distant if uncomfortable memory. A tale to tell when the right time comes for telling tales. In a the confusion I did assemble a lot of of happy memories and I hope some others did too, life is pretty much a series of unplanned events and unintended consequences rubbing up together in unpredictable ways and things, well they just keep happening. I should say something about Game of Thrones or the weather or the terrible bigger picture but that's for another post, funny how none of this is quite as cathartic as it should be. At least I got my washing done. Love and apologies to all.

A bit late but...

"In France a big old church burned down,

there was gold left in the rubble,

the big boys said they'd build it back up,

as it'll be tax deductible,

...times...times..."

Oasis

Unlikely but operating.

.

God's country

Panorama: the location. Some say it's God's country, some say it's nothing to do with him, some say there is no God, some say it's everybody's country, but as the field has three bulls in it and they call it home I'd defer to the view of the bulls.

When the loch was created some of  the ancient graves were flooded and lost. Not sure how the occupants reacted. Nobody new or newly dead has been buried here for many years. Now they're underwater. No religious objections, a bit like a burial at sea. It's all a creationist myth anyway. There's a sense of peaceful ruin in the strangely warm spring sunshine. Moss and lichen only grow on one side of the grave stones, usually the side you're trying to read. That's all part of nature's strangle-hold on death and it's conspiracy of silence and the with-holding of relevant  information. We know nothing.

Bare trees and shadows in a graveyard.

Danger: Home made sign

This place is dangerous, if you don't believe me then check the sign.

The old castle (or whatever it's technical, historical name is) is also reasonably picturesque, even on a dull Spring day when the daffs are out. It's also, like most ruins, a bit sinister. I always wonder, regards castles, how the inhabitants managed to get their furniture in, particularly with a front entrance 20 feet above the ground. Remember these were the days before flat packs. Might have been the days before furniture now that I think about it. Lot's of unwilling serfs to bully into action I suppose.

All those who are thirsty

All those who are thirsty, abandon hope and drink from here. Your trials and tribulations are temporary, your physical ailments and imperfections might just last a little longer, we don't care much for your health. You may require a stronger and more robust constitution if you are brave or thirsty enough to drink from this eternal spring. I am not your savior, I am not the answer. I do know a few facts about e.coli. It's brutal. Perhaps I am a poison, a simple, hidden poison like the Christian church, a veiled death threat seen as an angel of light. However if you choose to drink from this source you'll be in good company; Queen Victoria and Albert to name but two. One died young, the other lived on for quite some time. In the end it's all up to you. Choose wisely.

Guinea fowl

These birds are stupid, crazy and like to wander around in a crowd, scratching and clawing at the ground. They are not chickens, they don't socialize easily with chickens but they probably taste like chicken. I'm not too worried about finding out whether or not they do right now, that revelation can wait. Their antics are amusing however and they are apparently pretty noisy, but that's not something I've experienced. Anyway they are our near neighbours at the moment so I'm granting them space to be, simply to be. Unmolested (?) they'll live for eighteen years.

Into the wild

Our house is a very very very fine house etc.

Beneath the rusting corrugated iron roof the reflected battered head of a worn out pilgrim steps forth from the trees and shelters in the peace of timber and stone...for the time being.

I am currently writing this through the vague and shaky medium of low speed, low resolution broadband. Every type stroke requires super human effort, every photo groans at the compression and pain of the upload process. Each mega-mite of data is squeezed and slowed down to the pace of a turkey crossing a field of indifferent bulls munching shattered turnips. Strangely eBay still works but the satellite signal is grainy, appearing in the guise of 1960's 625 lines rather than digital HD quality. We're out in the wilds. Living in the woods, parked up on mud, wild birds and rodents strike Disney poses and silence is everywhere. From the window mountains are visible in desolate magnificence. Perhaps we're working on a new album or experimenting with cooking techniques, perhaps we'll be eaten alive by ants or found frozen dead in our log cabin bed, perhaps we'll just do a little light reading. Nothing matters as it's all further figments of my imagination (apart from the nearest shop/pub/civilization being 16 miles away, effectively over the hills and far away) and I'm relaxing into the happy warmth of the unreal fate and surprises that holidays provide.