I didn’t see much of the Maria or Joseph shows. I’d nothing against them - they’re reality shows based around skill rather than humiliation, so I don’t object - I just never started watching. But a few weeks ago I caught the Nancy show and by the end of the episode had a favourite. Fatal. I liked it too, as I’m a sucker for the big ballads. Not so much with the musicals I’ve seen, oddly, but I like the songs. The final was tonight, and I found myself looking forward to it.

It started and I was earnestly trying to decide who would make the best Nancy. Thing is, I haven’t even seen the film so had no real idea what Nancy ’should’ be like, and it was a little suspicious that my favourite also happened to be the contestant I found most attractive. Stupid male brain. Once I realised this I tried to override it and go by the performances. I grudgingly accepted that previous-choice Samantha didn’t quite match up to the others, but couldn’t decide between the remaining two until their final routines. I finally picked Jessie, but the show closed its phone lines the second her performance ended, which was a bit odd.

She didn’t win, but was named as first choice by both Andrew Lloyd-Webber and Cameron Mackintosh, which must take the edge off. I thought their reactions to Jodie’s win were a little couched - “Are you happy?” says Graham Norton, and they replied “I always thought this would be the public choice” and “I’m very happy for Jodie”. Yikes.

Good fun though. Quite enjoyed it.

So it turns out you can’t go home again. Still, Jim From Neighbours.

I just finished my book, Lisey’s Story by Stephen King, and I immediately threw it away.

I’ve read a lot of Stephen King. As ever, the blog post began forming itself as soon as I started liking the book, and I wasn’t sure what to say. I mean, I think it’s a stunning novel, but I always rave about Stephen King, and while there’s nothing wrong with repeating things worth saying, it’s still boring to be boring.

But I wanted to write something, because he’s somehow done it again. I’ve said before that people think he’s a horror writer, but he’s not, in the classic sense. His novels can be dark and sometimes terrifying, but not because of the events or the blood. I’m not bothered that terrible things are happening to the characters, I’m bothered that terrible things are happening to my friends. Because he gets under my skin, hooks into the personality centres and directly breathes living people into my mind’s eye. And the worst kind of gore-fest is nothing compared to a character you love standing in the hallway, thinking someone might be in the house.

I know this isn’t anything new, nothing that hasn’t happened to everyone - it is, after all, what reading’s all about. But he’s the guy who gets me, who best fits my particular brain-shape, and his characters follow me around. I’ve been reading Lisey’s Story for the last month, and it’s lurked continually in the back of my head. Not as an excited I-must-go-and-read-this desire, or as an irritating why-can’t-I-stop-thinking-about-this memeplex, but as another filter on the world, with reality-based roots but fantastical tentacles. It’s a book of secret languages and private words, and it latched onto my worldview and twisted. And I wanted to blog about it, without it being the same old thing. I got lucky.

I’d nearly finished the book when I took it to the park this afternoon. My car was in for an MOT and I had 40 minutes to kill, so I found a shaded bench and slipped into the world of Lisey Landon, widow of celebrated author Scott. The book hadn’t gone the way I expected, and I was intrigued to see if there were any surprises left. Then: splat. A pigeon delivered its verdict on my literary diversion in spectacular fashion. The book was big and hardback, and Mr Pigeon aimed perfectly for the centre crease. Backsplatter hit my hands, coat, jumper and I don’t like to think where else - it was really quite the projectile from such a tiny animal - so I cleaned up as best I could and headed back to my car, hoping a) it would be ready and b) I didn’t have anything in my hair.

Both were so, and once home I’m thinking, what am I going to do with this book? I could ditch it and buy a paperback copy, but that seems wasteful. I figured I’d cut out the affected pages so I could read the rest in comfort, so I grabbed the scissors and found the somewhat sticky pages where I’d left off. The book doesn’t smell good and I realise there’s really no saving the thing, but the outside is clean enough to put on the table. I made myself read through the two rapidly crustyflaking pages, then found the smearings had soaked through a fair few more. So I read those too. And then there were only 30 or so left. And before I know it I’m sitting at the table, reading a stinky, shit-stained book that really needs to be got rid of, and welling up.

Because it’s a book about marriage, and loss, and chance. And it’s a book about writing, and ideas, and storytelling. And when the things that happen at the end happen, I can’t help being moved.

It’s gone now, but the great thing about liking Stephen King is that his books are always in charity shops, so I’ll find a replacement eventually. I can never figure out why I want a collection of my favourite fiction - I mean, what’s the use? - but Lisey’s Story will definitely be in there, next to all his others.

Should anyone fancy taking a look, I’d recommend not reading the blurb. I’ve been burned before so skipped it, and for this particular book it was the right call.

Last week I bought The Orange Box as a present to myself. I’d seen somebody playing Portal, and my first impression was SCREW FRIENDSHIP MUST WRESTLE FOR KEYBOARD AND PLAY FOREVER, but I managed to resist until my projects were done. So I now have Half-Life 2, HL2 Episodes 1 & 2, Portal and Team Fortress 2. Oh, and Peggle Extreme. Should keep me busy for a bit.

I already owned Half-Life 2, so they said I could give away the newly-purchased license. So here I am. I’m not sure exactly how it works, but one way or another you’ll need a Steam account to redeem it, and the download will be a couple of gigabytes. Email or leave a comment if you’re interested - I’ll update this post if/when it’s taken.

Come spring, my local park always has two ice cream vans within 100m of each other, and I’ve often thought it’s an episode of Midsomer Murders waiting to happen¹. In my head there are fierce rivalries in all sorts of professions, but I’d never thought of this²:

A documentary now in limited release, “Twisted: A Balloonamentary” examines the world of professional balloon twisters, who make everything from life-size racing cars to their own wedding dresses. It also exposes the rift — who knew? — between the “gospel twisters,” who use their craft as a way to teach Bible lessons, and the “adult” twisters, who use balloons for more prurient entertainment.

That’s hideous. I for one never, ever want to see a professional twister using balloons to teach gospel lessons. Whereas, a prurient show - bring it on. Sure, it’d be easy for it to be tawdry and obvious, but in the right hands I can see that being funny as hell.

The wedding dress can be seen here. My wedding plans so far:

1. compulsory capes + hats

and that’s as far as I’ve got, but I’m going to go ahead and pencil in that dress. I mean, that’s some non-stop innuendo right there.

It’s just occurred to me that balloons are the perfect vehicle for preaching the doctrine of the Flying Spaghetti Monster! I’ve found a niche, people!

1. I think something stole their thunder, actually - New Tricks? [↩]
2. warning: there was a big Battlestar Galactica banner at the top of the page when I visited. I activated Spoiler Defence Mode and killed all power to the building, but beware [↩]

The Telectroscope looks steampunky cool.

Hardly anyone knows that a secret tunnel runs deep beneath the Atlantic Ocean. In May 2008, more than a century after it was begun, the tunnel has finally been completed. An extraordinary optical device called a Telectroscope has been installed at both ends which miraculously allows people to see right through the Earth from London to New York and vice versa.

Must visit. Open until the 15th June.

Spoilers for Torchwood S2.

It’s weird, but after a while you forget he’s not really talking about Torchwood. Via Rullsenberg.

Creepy goings-on in my neighbourhood:

William Shakespeare’s tombstone is set for a makeover - despite bearing a curse against those who move it.

Eek. Is there a history of sadness surrounding it? Deaths of would-be grave robbers? Terrible illnesses befalling those who allowed the tombstone to be altered? Ghostly sightings by teenagers on late-night dalliances? Well, no.

The stone, which renovators say will not be moved, warns: “Blessed be the man that spares these stones/ And cursed be he who moves my bones.”

It’s cursed because it says it is. Shakespeare wouldn’t lie.

I’m getting a sign for my front door saying “All chaps who enter, not called Tony / kiss my ass, become a pony.”. If I get famous people will believe it, and only Tonys will live here for evermore.

I designed and built a website for a boat-building company my parents are involved with, and it went live this weekend. If you happen to be in the market for a new narrowboat, take a look.

Oooh, nice. Very nice indeed. The Strobist blog is my favourite online resource for learning about lighting, and now there’s a 10hr, 8-DVD set of seminars and on-location shoots.

For what it’s worth, when I write for the blog my target is usually myself as a 22-year-old (green) pro. I would put these DVDs at the level of advanced amateur. Especially for people who can learn better by watching someone actually doing something — and having them think out loud during the process.

I wouldn’t put myself at the advanced amateur level yet, but I’m thinking I could learn a lot from this. It’s £90 shipped to the UK. That’s a bit more than I should really be paying right now, but a pittance compared to most photography lighting seminar/courses. Tempted…

This evening I uploaded a picture taken on May 18th, and with that my Year 25 project is complete. I took a shot every day but one: an inexplicable m0rk on December 17th.

I have mixed feelings about the final result. In some ways it’s not what I intended. I wanted each picture to represent the day, and many don’t. Plenty were taken at 2330 when I got home and realised I hadn’t done anything. I intended the project to force me into taking pictures of places and people I don’t normally photograph, but this rarely happened. For example, I started uni in September, but there are no proper images of my fellow students as I never plucked up the courage to ask them - despite them also studying photography.

There are also way too many taken on my mobile phone. This always seemed like a good idea - usually because of some rationalisation about not getting my camera out of my bag due to safety/annoying people / whatever - then I’d get home and realise the results suck.

But, having said all that, there are still plenty of photos that do represent their day, and were taken with a proper camera. I’m happy with many, and am glad I actually managed to complete the thing.

I’ve also definitely improved over the year, and I can see the images evolve. I taught myself the basics of balancing flash with ambient light, I now understand the concept of formal image composition, even if I’m not very good at it, and I’m slowly getting better at predicting the look of the final exposure before clicking the shutter. I also finally sat down and learnt how to use Lightroom, and suddenly I could properly control the shadow and highlight points while editing - I think there’s a marked improvement in the image quality thereafter.

It’s also had the intended memory-bank effect. I checked over the set this evening - there were a few omissions / duplicates, and my pride at the final 365 total was dented when I realised it’s a leap year - and kept spotting and thinking about little events I’d forgotten, which is quite pleasant. My 25th year had sad days, happy days, scary-exciting days, celebrities, and plenty of monkeys - it’ll be fun to dig through in a few years.

So it’s a mixed bag. There are more than a few images that made me wince while uploading, and again now, but there are some that came out better than I remembered, and a few I’m very happy with. I didn’t learn as much from it as I hoped, but it wasn’t a waste of time either.

I’m going to make a Blurb book of the results. I don’t have a properly colour-balanced setup, so I’ll have to play the odds and just hope they resemble what I see on screen. I’m currently struggling to download all the images and keep them in order (I don’t have a local copy, sadly), but I’m sure I’ll find a way. However it turns out, it should make a neat little momento.

Is there a Year 26 Project? So far, yes. I’ve been toying with 52 Portraits or similar, but as I’ve got into the habit I see no reason not to continue for the moment. Objectives for this year:

• Be brave
• Take fewer, better shots, on decent equipment
• Check and double-check the goddamn focus (I hate hate hate it when the focus is off)
• Learn more about lighting, and put it into practice
• Take more portraits
• Be brave

I think that’s enough to be going along with.

My geohashing plan for this week has been scuppered by the weather. I was working in Oxford yesterday, but called in to the geohash en route:

Official wiki page. It was a bit wet. The motorway visibility was very low, the wind strong and the whole trip pretty unpleasant. Thankfully the field in question was inaccessible, and this was the closest I could get. The weather today was similarly dreadful, and the rest of the week isn’t much better. As this project would likely involve a lot of driving, I’m going to pass on it for now.

You’ve been clamouring for it, and now it’s here. Your ticket to Eurovision success is the Eurovision Song Contest Decision Making Tally Counting Act Judging Generator Machine. Honed to perfection over many years, the ESCDMTCAJGM has yet to fail¹. It’s guaranteed² to pick the right winner³.

• Excel 2007
• Excel Non-2007
• PDF

I’ll be live-twittering the contest, so people might want to un-follow me to avoid the flood. (edit: or not, as twitter’s down atm)

1. for certain definitions of ‘fail’ [↩]
2. for certain definitions of ‘guaranteed’ [↩]
3. for certain definitions of ‘winner’ [↩]

This is geohashing:

Date + Dow opening = random place, within a 1 x 1 grid of about 60 miles. The xkcd wiki calls it a spontaneous adventure generator.

I’m in 52, -1, classified as Birmingham East. Today’s location was 20mins away, so I thought I’d check it out.

Monkey & I parked in a layby and wandered down a small stone path. The field containing the co-ordinates was private, so Monkey & I pushed our way through the stinging nettles up to the edge of the boundary fence:

The official geohash page is here.

Monkey and I are going to try and reach the Birmingham East geohashes for the next week. No guarantees, but wherever possible.

All the work’s handed in, all the library books are returned, and that’s my first year of university over. WEIRD.

I sat on the train home, wondering what happened to the last four months and trying to think how best to take advantage of the summer break. I don’t want to just sit around, and it’d be nice to capitalise on being used to work.

It’d be great to earn some decent money, but I should get real - I wasn’t doing that before uni. No, my summer project is to learn how to take portraits. Because I really suck at the moment. I’ve been asked a few times lately, and I can only ever bring to mind the most awful photographic clichés. So that’s my mission. I’m not brave enough for 100 Strangers, but maybe a 52 portraits project…I’ll put some more thought into it.