Bread, Moon, Mars.

After some simple retail research I can now reveal that Tesco invented the original breadstick, they may have also invented the original bread. Some of this could have occurred in Italy as food science developed (if the packaging is to be believed). The type of bread they came up with remains unclear, so they say.

Exclusive but inclusive: I've also designed a Moon buggy, it's primarily for use on Mars (never on the Earth or the Moon). You can drive it anywhere except into the ULEZ zone. That's zone-zone isn't it? It's non-compliant: see below.

While we're on the subject of ancient things and other planets, a very old, medieval map of the Martian surface has fallen into my hands and wider sphere of influence. I fully intend to pass it over to the authorities when I get a spare minute. On the illegible flip side it reads: "Red Planet/Dead Planet" for some reason. There are some serious security issues here. It's currently hidden in the Moon buggy's Moon glove box (next to the Moon gloves).

Meanwhile...

G Love

 

History but not as we know it: This is a rare and unlikely photograph of the lady who invented hand warmers and finger adornments. Taken in Vienna in 1798 it show Ms Gertrude Love in her grand Venetian study complete with a pair of her infamous gloves (believed to be prototype models). Ms Love's invention quickly caught on with the bright young things of Europe, the Home Counties and Australia. 

It was said that the cold hands and digits of the great royal houses of Prussia and beyond beat a golden path to the threshold of her business's tradesman's entrance. Inspired by the early works of Wagner she seldom looked back. Before long she was a destitute gin soaked alcoholic living in the streets of post revolution Paris and the rest, as they say, is of course history but not the reliable kind you were taught at school. 

McBoaty McBoatface

 

Here's a version of the original Boaty McBoatface leaving Rosyth and sailing out to sea past the Forth Bridges. The ship itself is named RRS Sir David Attenborough. The name B McB now belongs to one of the robot submersibles that are attached to the mother-ship. I've no idea where the ship is currently headed, I presume it will be doing some kind of valuable research into global warming or something similar, the results of which will be completely ignored by the government of the day - no doubt.

Dreadful Events

Perhaps more disturbing than dreadful. Distortions on the edges of reality. Pictures that make a person uncomfortable for no obvious reason. Having a questioning mindset. Having any mindset at all. Now I'm out on a limb. Being yourself is the greatest challenge an individual faces, particularly these days when there are so many possible versions. I'm maybe wrong there, being "yourself" may always have been one of mankind's biggest problems. Then some people are too much of them selves and just run riot. The me, me, me people; more salads, more sun. We're all exasperating. So there I was just having a quiet little inner ramble to myself...

Thirteen, Maze, Abbey.

Some were seated at unlucky table 13. Free coffee grounds garden fertilizer was dispensed by an invisible machine. I ate a cake made from raspberries. 

Some mazes are just plain immature and incomplete. Not fit for purpose in this day of incessant summer rain. We did not try to solve the puzzle but simply flew a drone over it to map the entire area and then departed.

Dunfermline Abbey: I understand that there are more Scottish Kings and Queens buried here than anywhere else, mainly between the tenth and fourteenth centuries. I am unable to name them all but I've a fair idea, I'm not making a list. Funny how the ancient royal families command a respect and historical significance that our modern one doesn't. 

Dunfermline once was the capital city, on a relatively small scale, maybe size didn't matter so much then. The "Auld Alliance" between Scotland and France was signed here (well in the nearby palace ruins). I'm not sure why that matters to me but it does.

The Final Day of June

It's come around at last, the end of June is upon us. Tomorrow it will be July and who knows? It may well be followed by August. I'm obviously uncomfortable with making any further predictions. From a diary perspective today began with tea, a brief exercise session, a shower and then two boiled eggs and toast.

When the Levee Breaks

It's been raining a lot today, put me in mind of this. There's some kind of remix going on in it. Best heard on headphones. Over and out.

New Phone v Old Laptop

 

I took my new phone out for a photo walk in the garden. Having had an unreliable phone camera for a couple of months I needed to give the new one some exercise. Of course it works exactly the same as the old except that it works, it's new after all. You just point and shoot and hope for the best. I'm sure that's the essence of most photography. Nowadays you don't have to wait weeks to view the blurry and distorted results. Good progress that meant the collapse of camera factories and photo processing all across the world. The old laptop remains the weak link in this fairly basic artistic chain.

I've not said much about Glastonbury this year, still a little peeved at being rejected while politely standing in the virtual ticket queue for hours. Basically there seems to have been some listenable stuff but I'm not too upset to have missed Guns and Roses etc. I'm just not sure what anyone ever saw in them. I liked the Chicks and Lizzo. Eton John was pretty good as expected, the voice has aged like a bottle of Aldi Chardonnay but he still owns some proper bangers. Can't quite believe I was once 15 and carrying around a worn out copy of Tumbleweed Connection at high school in the hope of some sort of barter taking place. Time really does fly.

Happy Potatoes

 

Understanding and appreciating the mental health of your potato crop is not easy. There may signs showing here and there but I'm unsure how to read them. The plants are growing, hopefully with potatoes beneath them. They seem happy but I've not tried talking to them, that would be ridiculous. I'm not at that stage in the relationship either. They're just root vegetables but I hope they can survive the reasonably warm spell we're in and grow.

DAFC - St Pauli

DAFC at home: We got beat last night by FC St Pauli in a football friendly. 0 - 3. Probably wasn't too bad a result but it didn't really matter. The fans were in good form and made it a night to remember for a lot of reasons I'm not going into here. If you need to take political sides in history then I'm on the St Pauli side. Football support in all it's forms is always political simply because it's about people, passion and lifetime issues that can't help but overlap. Everything is complicated. Being a fan is also a release and an expression (and often a heartbreak). You may not get it, just don't look down on us because you think you can.

Stormtrooper

 

Brewdog IPA in a Stormtrooper glass. Mixed media.

A lovely summer's evening.

Meanwhile...

All of the people talk a lot of shit some of the time.

Some of the people talk a lot of shit all of the time.

All of the people believe some of those people some of the time.

Some of the people believe all of those people all of the time.

Because of the compelling nature of numbers...

We're screwed.

Ships in the Night

Well at any time of year it would be night by now but we're in solstice territory here so it's all very still, bright and warm. Two liners leave the Firth of Forth within minutes of each other, I've no care or idea as to where they might be headed. I doubt it'll be the the Sea of Joy, most likely onto the sea of continuous tourism, canteen meals and coach tripping. Ticking off those boxes of desirable European destinations in some desperate attempt to understand why we're all captured and perplexed in this pointless dream version of reality.  

The all white liner on the right chose to play the theme from the manga series Inuyasha, "To Love's End" on it's horn as it departed, according to Google. The music is by Kaora Wada. I'm not sure if it was a mark of respect, hope or despair. This does not normally happen and it certainly was unexpected. To be honest it sounded more like the theme from "Lord of the Rings" to my cloth ears. Either way it makes little sense unless it's a matrix glitch or just an attempt by the universe at leaving me more confused than ever. Maybe the captain was just having a laugh. Anyway the sense of the impending collapse of reality is getting stronger every day. 

Dry Times at Dunfermline High

Once the radioactive rain stopped a strange, stark and desolate dry season came upon us. You could see the moisture evaporate before your own eyes, steam from the pavement cracks, grass recently green now pale and scorched, bushes and shrubs hanging limp and bedraggled. Our new kind of contaminated summer was not to be a comfortable season. There were murmurs and whispers of water shortages, empty lochs and choked rivers. The pressure in the taps had diminished and the water had a strange taste and colour  that made me feel uncomfortable. Bottled water's price soared, we didn't even try to buy any. The crooks were making a fast buck, a last buck as far as I was concerned. We tried to manage our remaining supplies.

One night we looked out across the Forth, the whole of Fife seemed to be ablaze. The tinder dry scrub, the parks, fields and buildings, everything was alight. The heat radiated across and we felt it on our faces and in our lungs. On the water some escaped by small boat or pleasure craft, a few just drifted by downstream, watching the fiery destruction. Now that the road bridges were gone there was no quick way either north or south. Many had headed west but I imagined that would only add to the chaos we'd regularly heard of, over in Glasgow and beyond. 

I tried to get some sleep, do some thinking, decide what to do even. There were few good choices and no likely interventions of outside help. So the time will shortly come for us to set sail, setting out on our boats to who knows where. Before we just stared out of windows, into screens and refrigerators or at each other. We're explorers now. The Great Sea of Joy beckons.

Daily Sparrow

 

It's always nice when the smaller birds get some free time to visit the bird feeder without the big bully crows, magpies and doves blocking off their entrance. Here's a wee sparrow just taking a few seconds to dip into the seeds on the feeder. The small birds never hang around for long; too quick, too wary, too much unknown danger to take the time to choose what to pick up. We do have other, less open feeders that these birds gravitate to where feeding is much easier for them, as the bigger birds simply cannot land on it's narrow perch. Obviously it's not set up with the remote camera as this one is. It's a good shot of a cheeky young bird.

Under My Thumb

This is quite good, well done Susanna Hoffs. Now blokes can listen to a version of this song without too much guilt or sweaty beads on their Neanderthal brows. A bit more jangle on the guitars would have also helped in my opinion but that hardly matters. A trivial fact is that it was Brian Jones who came up with the riff apparently. Another is that I first heard this version on Woman's Hour on BBC Radio 4 a few days ago, where it was liked very much. What a time to be alive.

Speaker and Spectacles

 

Still life with speaker, spectacles and lamp shade: Coloured and scented banana oil melange and mixed media (in bacterial microscopic form) on ex-fire service canvas, some slight burn marks across the rear. 6' x 3' so will likely look good hanging in the average sized lounge of the contemporary home of average sized people. First £50000 secures, second £100000 properly secures. Stupid, rich Tory buyers also very welcome. No time wasters please.

First Car

Apart from the large front fog lamps this old car is an identical model to my first car. Purchased by me thanks to an enormous Thursday afternoon  impulse for the princely sum of £100 in October 1977. It was a 1969 Wolseley 16/60. I've no actual pictures of the car, they were all lost in the fire/divorce (delete as applicable) so it's nice when a survivor like this one pops into my (otherwise crowded with mostly moaning bastards) twitter feed. Sad to say my ownership lasted about a year when unplanned financial problems and house renovations rendered me unable to pay for the numerous repairs it needed to stay roadworthy. It was sent the scrap yard and I adopted a bicycle as a short term replacement. How we laughed.

South Queensferry Daily Photo

OK, it's not remotely real but it might be a version of this particular location based on yesterday's somewhat grim, sombre and reflective Sci-Fi related doom-mongering post. Can't beat a good bit of imaginative doom-mongering on a bright sunny day to pep up any artistically challenged person's inner being. Negative optimism is such a radical thought posture you all need to put yourself into, once in a while. Sometimes a bit of "end of everything" thinking is more cheerful than the regular output bombarded onto us from mainstream media news feeds. I would say that.

The End of the World

Sometimes things are so still and warm and quiet it becomes easy to imagine that we're on the brink of the end of the world. No big bang, meteor strike or thunder storms. No World War III wreaking havoc, chaos and pain. Just a slipping away of everything. It begins with a warm cocoon of weather that slowly increases in heat and density. Bit by bit everything eases down and stops. Other people are invisible. Cares and concerns lose meaning and context.

Breathing is calm though the air is hot and strangely oppressive while the whole world just falls asleep. No mass panic or destruction just a winding down and a running out. No sirens or broadcasts, the power has all gone from agencies and governments. There is no commentary. Those that led us never really meant anything. It was all a grand illusion without substance.

Now a perpetual summer has arrived, at first pleasant and comfortable and our sense of time and space is lost. Everyone is seduced into some easy, soporific stupor that can't be explained and we all just go along with it as if we're under a gently administered drug. Eyelids become heavy, we relax into a quiet place where all dreams are accessible. We are in some cosmic flow, caught up and moving. There is a light. Where will it end? Where does anything ever end? 

Salads and Sun

This photo isn't our garden, it's somebody else's, on another day. Today's thundery rain has awarded me a day off. I'm not sure why I think that. Maybe it's the slow moving torment of regular gardening and the observations of unplanned and manic growth that cries for help and needs to be attended to, instantly. So under this damp hood of June raindrops and swirling cloud I'm happy to step back and watch a green and wet world unfold and develop. I'm powerless when it comes to weather.

"Only a fool would say that" is a song by Steely Dan that effectively takes down John Lennon's whole "Imagine" bullshit. "Imagine" a song so vacuous and idiotic that's unquestioning trotted out time after time as if it represented some brilliant insights into the deeper truths of the human condition. Nope, it's elementary bullshit however well meant (?) or regarded it might seem to be. The Steely Dan song has the words "a world become one, salads and sun, only a fool would say that", hence the post title. It was just going around in my head after breakfast. No big deal.

P.S. Along came the sun (about 12:00) and dried up all the rain. Incy Wincy Spider climbed up the spout again.