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There was a Royal wedding yesterday.  That does not bother me, good for happiness to happen.  No, what bothers me is the news reporting that the wedding dress designer was a London one, when I know this not to be true.  For Sassi Holford is a Taunton designer.  I know, I stood on many occasions staring at the latest dress hanging in her shop window. 

The shop, near the bridge in town, opposite the entrance to Goodlands Gardens, is a small place.  I cannot remember what it was before.  Every week the dress would change and I would steal a glance at the latest design.  Often walking out of my way just to look.  Like a child marvelling at the latest toy in the shop window.  It was of forbidden hopes and dreams.  Imagining myself in the latest design.  I could not see the person who I would be marrying, or maybe I could, but these thoughts were wrong, just whimsical fancy. 

So to hear something that you know to be a lie, it surfaces the forbidden and long forgotten dreams.  Now I know, these things are things that happen to other people, yet it still does not stop me dreaming of the dress.  It’s magical properties making you the only person on the planet that matters, for a few short hours anyway. 

Going a bit old school on the music at the moment.  Other from listening to loads of BT (which I have to stop myself from doing in case I get too addicted to the albums and end up not listening to them), I’ve been listening to quite a bit of Chicane.  Then the other day, whilst scrobbling on Last FM, I came across a Way Out West track I hadn’t heard before an thought it was quite good.  So anyway, I’ve just iTunes’d the album… I’ve always ummed and ahhed about getting it.  Trying to stay original, I loved The Gift, thought it was a brilliant track, then I think Halifax used it for an advert, which made me have second thoughts about the album.  Halifax will do that to a person, you end up disliking them for so many reasons.

Anyway, glad I got the album finally, it’s firmly ensconced on my iPod, ready for tomorrows continuing saga of content auditing… which I’m actually enjoying as it’s something productive to keep me occupied.

Please excuse me, I’m on a bit of a science trip at the moment…

I’ve been sitting here musing the differences between scientists and spiritualists.  What I find amusing is that you have religious groups saying that God is the word, regardless of the religion.  They rely on the writings of a book, that can no longer possibly be perceived to be accurate (Chinese whispers anyone?), to tell them how to go about their life.  More often than not they do not deviate from this book, or let themselves open to alternative interpretations of what might actually be. 

Perhaps, this is why I do not believe in a religion.  I hate being told what to do.  I rebel, I can’t tell you why.  If you ask me then I’ll be more open to the thought of it.  Perhaps I don’t like the thought of there not being a possibility of something else, for there to be an explanation that has something of more substance than a “thing”, a “being” creating the earth.  It’s very much a case of “is that it?”

Perhaps I like the humbleness of scientists, I mean they are forever coming up with theories and laws and then disproving them and saying something different.  Maybe it’s the openness to different thoughts and changing ideas is what makes me smile.  That instead of settling for a book of words and a belief that makes you feel warm and cosy scientists don’t settle for just that, that they constantly question things and not settle on one answer as the right one.  

I love a good conspiracy theory.  Can’t help myself.  You know the normal things like was there someone on the grassy knowl? Was it really the titanic that sank? So when I picked up a book by James Rollins last year I never expected that the book would mean I wanted to end up buying books that are filled full of Nazi conspiracy theories or dare I say it, ones about Quantum Mechanics (ok so point and fact that I haven’t book the one on Quantum Evolution, as that’s what it’s really about, mainly because I procrastinated for so long it’s now out of print! curse it!!).

Anyway, I’m currently reading a book about the Bell, which is rumoured to be a device developed under the Nazi’s that has inexplicable powers (I say this because nobody knows what’s happened to it, only that it did exist).  There’s tons of conspiracy theory in there, and lots of information about the various technologies that the Nazi’s were developing.  Before I carry on, I don’t condone the Nazi’s but as I said, I love a good conspiracy theory and I love science & technology.

I can’t tell you much about the book yet, but I guess I picked it up in the hope that it might give me some ideas about writing.  I have lots of little ideas in my head but they go nowhere, so I need a theme, a pique, something that will grab my head and a whole story will come flooding out of it.  Given that I loved John Twelve Hawks books, James Rollins latest books and various other books that are pseudo-sci-fi (i.e. they’ve got a bit of science fiction in there, but not enough to make it a bona fide sci-fi book).

I have to focus, I have a goal this year and that’s to write more.  I’m not really doing well so far, mainly because the move down here has been the only thing on my mind really.  However I’m going to try really hard to start thinking about writing again.  Picking up my writers notebook and making little meme’s to myself.  I’ve already started by attacking the word of the day on dictionary.com.  So perhaps I should challenge myself on here to write something each day.  Not that I often seek responses from people, but what are your thoughts?

I’ve been watching something on BBC4 on Biotechnology, fascinating stuff.  Anyway, they’re talking about knowing your genetic makeup.  Being able to know what your future holds for you.  They also go on to talk about living for longer. 

Now the immediate question that comes to my mind is would you want to know what you’re likely to die of?  Would you not spend a disproportionate amount of time worrying about what you’re going to die from and not getting on with the business of living life?  My personal thoughts on the subject would be that I don’t particularly want to know if I have something life changing, in less there’s some way to treat it, otherwise it’s another thing to worry about.  It’s not as if I’m living in denial, but I wouldn’t want something severe to cloud my life.  If it happens, then it happens, and I’ll deal with it if it does.

The other question that was posed regarding being able to live longer threw up all kinds of thoughts and problems, like would you have to work for longer? would you be able to work longer? why would you want to live that long? and various other stupid thoughts.  One professor posed a better question, “What would you do with that time if you had it available to you?”  Now there’s a question that should be the egg rather than the chicken (given that I always think the egg comes first).  Think about what you’re going to do with something before you provide the ability to do it.  Given society’s ability to abuse these things, perhaps that’s a question that should be answered before we go about making the anti ageing solution to end all solutions, perhaps we should question what we are to do with the time.

Do these thoughts then bring in a whole new level of sociological implications to the evolution of society? Well obviously, but the cascading thought process that comes into “what if?” starts to make your head hurt, OK so it makes my head hurt.  I must be utterly abnormal to think things like this are remotely interesting.  I have no idea why the prospect of these things interest me, more so than the latest fashion. 

Manic weekend! I think six hours in a hot car, not enough water, and heavy food contributed to the migrane and projectile vomiting at 4 o’clock on Saturday morning… still a good weekend was had by all. Cousin enjoyed trip, I un-wound somewhat, and dad enjoyed Eater Lunch at a country pub…. job well done.

My dad lent me The Queen, (no not that one, I’m sure that people might talk if they did), the film that’s just won all the Oscars. I have to say that I can see why Helen Mirren won the Oscar it was a stunning performance, and I sympathised with her. I can’t quite remember what happened to my feelings that week as I remember spending three days wanting to throw up quite a bit (I know you probably think there’s a pattern forming here, but honestly there’s not). From what I can remember it was a lovely shade of blue thanks to a job lot of blue curacao (the detrius, not my thoughts, although the blue curacao could have contributed quite significantly to the lack of memory, ok so it DID contribute quite a bit but that’s a story for another time).

Anyway, the film was rather good, and it only served to make me hate the Blairs even more. I would strongly suggest that their time coming to an end soon can’t be soon enough in my books, however, Brown must not stay. Again, I digress. I wanted to say that I watched Mansfield Park the other week, what an utter pile of crap. Who wrote the script? Was there a script? did it say “poorly cast actresses should look whistfully at each other a lot as they can’t act for toffee and there’s no point writing a decent script”? I mean seriously, who on earth though ITV could make a period drama? They should leave it to BBC and Merchant Ivory.

Which leads me nicely onto my final tie in (getting reasonably good at this aren’t I?), we stopped off at Wilton House this afternoon, which was used in a couple of scenes in the recent Pride and Prejudice film. Quite interesting, not much open to the public, but it is nice to see a stately home still owned and used by the family with some rooms open to the public. The grounds were probably better than the house, as it did seem a little muddled. Anyway, that’s enough for tonight, I’ve got stuff to sort out for work in the morning.

I may get around to blogging about the horsey set that were permanently camped out in the hotel / pub that we were staying in… If I hear one more person say “mummy” or “daddy” who’s old enough to know better I might go slightly postal…

No, really, I do have a headache… Proverbial and literally. Page 1213 in the south east London yellow pages… I really don’t want a solicitor to write me a will, nor do I want one to do conveyancy… I want one to sort the mess out after you find out there’s no will, and have to being legal process to protect the estate. My . Head . Really . Hurts…

Also… how many people can tell me the estate is intestate… lots, but can anyone tell me what that means and what I do about it? nada… It’s really not helpful, some say it’s not a problem because inheritance tax is unlikely to be involved. Some say get a solicitor anyway… urgh, more money to spend, I’d say it’s not a good time, but at times like this, I guess no time is ever good.

I’m still not feeling like I’ve been hit by a sledge hammer. I’m sure it’ll happen, but I have no idea when that might be. Everyone’s really sorry, and I feel bad because I’m not that sad, occasionally I wobble which is to be expected. I always wondered what to say to someone who’s been bereaved, but now I’m on the other side, what do you say to the people who look so pained. Perhaps they’re imagining what it would be like for them to loose a parent? Who knows, If there wasn’t so much bad blood, then I’d probably be sincerly warmed by their thoughts, and I am, but I feel like a fraud, like I don’t deserve it. Does that make sense?

The reason why I say this is because I’ve just seen a trailer for Spy Game. I have to admit loving this film, well I don’t have to but I want to. I’ve seen it so many times and I can’t tell you specifically why I love it. It’s far from being a warm and fuzzy film, it’s got more ups and downs that a roman road but it’s a damn good film.

I guess because I remember Brad Pitt is in it. Now whilst Brad Pitt could be concieved as eye candy, I don’t think he’s a particularly good actor in most of his films. There are very few films I like him in, there are probably even few that I own. For some reason I think he plays the part of Tom Bishop in Spy Game extremely well.

The film is one that pulls you in, from the present and back to the start of a working relationship with two men. You see someone’s life through another’s eyes, how his life is put on the line and how lies can affect a person. You can watch the film without looking at your watch once. To me that’s a sign of a good film, I’m sure I’ve mentioned this before.

Maybe it’s because it’s got Robert Redford in the film. Maybe the script was very well written, maybe the casting agent did a fantastic job. I just don’t know. I also don’t know why I would rate this film so highly. The characters have none of the quirky amusing features that you might find of their parts in other films like Sneakers or Ocean’s 11. They do however perform amazingly well. I guess like Keanu Reeves who was put on this earth to play edgy action characters like that in Speed, the Matrix or Point Break but appears to do so un-willingly, Brad Pitt should also do the same. True Romance was awful, Thelma and Louise was the worst film ever made (well tying closely to Titanic), Twelve Monkey’s… what was that about?!?

Anyway, instead of reading this about my thoughts on Spy Game, watch it, it’s on Channel 5 sometime in the next week, I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.

My RSS feed in Gmail…

Dictionary.com Word of the Day - turgid: swollen, bloated; also, bombastic, pompous.

Am I the only person who finds this word funny?!?

I’ll post stuff about Bruge when I get my thoughts together on the subject. I’m useless at posting, but given my stats and that only Darklord appears to read anything on here, I’m not really letting many people down. If anyone else comes to the site, do us a flavor… post a comment :o)

Oh in the mean time, the nice person who paid lots of money for us to go away on my birthday has done the stuff with the photos of the weekend, and they’re now in the gallery… go take a look :o)
Bruge Photos

7 hours to do 350 miles, it’s quicker to get to Germany… I’m up north, and staying in a hotel that’s given me a room with a four poster bed… I wouldn’t mind but it’s half as tall as me and a bit of a git to get in and out of. Still i can’t complain it’s well comfy. Silly thoughts came to mind but I’m going to have to come back to that later. Will type something longer later when I’ve got time and post if I can.

Right back to the sun (yes it is really rather sunny in Cumbria at the moment, but bloody cold).