The first three panoramas are pretty big (click to embiggen). The second night photograph was taken after midnight, when some light get switched off.
These are smaller panoramas taken with mobile phone. I like the atmosphere though.
London Road Fire Station in Manchester has been out of operation as long as have known it. It has a fascinating history for sure (see the Wikipedia link, below). It’s an amazing building. You leave Piccadilly station at the back entrance (where the taxis are and where you can access Metrolink) and boom: There it is in all its glory. Like many buildings in Manchester its facade is almost completely tiled to wash it off the industrial dust… Now it is undergoing reconstruction works. The clerk in the hotel opposite says it is for luxury appartments. Wikipedia is vague, talking about mixed use. Let’s see…
[“London Road Fire Station” – 2019-08-29]
Whenever I go to the UK, one of the first things I buy is junk food like pork pies or Scotch eggs, and some bread spreads for later on. That’s basically the things I like and I don’t get in continental Europe. The photo shows a Scotch egg in front of London Road Fire Station, Manchester, which is undergoing conversion into luxury appartents at the moment. What else, of course? I surely wouldn’t be able to afford property there, but I can afford a proper Scotch Egg. Yummy!
[“Scotch Egg and Fire Station, Manchester” – 2019-08-29]
Whenever I visit the UK, there is this moment that makes me realize that I have arrived there. No, it is not the laid-back attitude of the border police. Neither is it the ability of people to queue or to stand behind lines or generally suddenly behave meek as lambs in crowded places. No, it is some tiny little sign with some mostly unimportant message. To be more precise it is the typeface the words on this sign are set in. You go to the UK and suddenly it is not Verdana, Arial, DIN or Frutiger any longer. The fonts that surround you in public are Gill Sans, Johnston, Transport or some other, more modern, grotesque font. Like here, at Manchester Airport: the sign does not only tell foreigners to behave appropriately, it also says: “Hiya! Welcome to the UK. Make yourself at home (and a nice cup of tea later on (before you go to have too many pints of overprized beer–for which you might have to queue in an orderly fashion)).”
[“Fonts’ Welcome” – 2019-08-29]
Challenge: If you are a native speaker of German, look up the pronunciation of the following words (focus on details!). If you thought they were pronounced differently, don’t leave a comment. If you got all of them right, comment. Or other way around–whatever. 😉
“When I first received this Nobel Prize for Literature, I got to wondering exactly how my songs related to literature. I wanted to reflect on it and see where the connection was.”
It’s an interesting beginning of Bob Dylan’s lecture. In my introductory seminar to literary studies, I quite often do what I call “Literary Trivia”. In most cases, I would play the beginning of a song and ask for associations with English literature, with English authors. Even students in their first semester make these associations very quickly. You play “Mrs. Robinson” by Simon and Garfunkel and students associate the lyrics with the Bible (“Jesus loves you more than you will know”), with Arthur Miller (“Where have you gone, Joe DiMaggio”)—because DiMaggio was married to Marilyn Monroe, as was Arthur Miller—, and, of course, with Defoe’s novel.
A couple of weeks ago, I played a Bob Dylan song and asked ideally for a Welsh poet, but if they couldn’t name one, I would accept the name of another poet. To my surprise students actually came up with Dylan Thomas. None of the students said, “Well, this Bob Dylan. He won the Nobel Prize for literature. His work must be literature then. He’s the poet.”
Despite the on-going convergence of media formats and diverse genres, people still seem to have a hard time letting go of overcome exclusive definitions of literature, poetry, narrative, film- and media texts. A recorded stage adaptation of Shakespeare would qualify as literature for most, but if they don’t know the author of a film script, they wouldn’t see literary qualities in the video recording. If Dylan Thomas sings his poetry, this is literature. If Bob Dylan sings his songs, this is not.
I don’t precisely know where this confusion, this unnecessary complicatedness stems from. Maybe schools have failed many of us in so far as they have established “literature” as something beautiful but ultimately very detached from us and our everyday endeavours. We listen to music all the time but this can never be literature, because literature is taught in schools, is complicated, needs to be analysed with care, and it is just too sublime. We stand in awe in front of literature and don’t know what to do with, let’s say Shakespeare, except the things we’ve learnt in school. Shakespeare’s texts may ask us to enjoy them, disagree and quarrel with them, invite us to become part of their discourse, but we stand in awe. We cannot move, we cannot make, we can not…
As far as I have understood the academy, giving the prize to Dylan is a sign (next to the underlying political idea in times of Trump, the Brexit, or generally spreading stupidity in politics and society) that they have understood that, in the times of the internet, the borders between genres and medialities have started to dissolve. It doesn’t matter that Dylan sings his poems. It didn’t in the past (Dylan Thomas) and does not in the present any longer (Bob Dylan).
Bob Dylan doesn’t seem to have fully understood this when he poses the question about the relation of his oeuvre to literature. He seems to support this take when he refers to the place of literature in his life: school:
“But I had something else as well. I had principals and sensibilities and an informed view of the world. And I had had that for a while. Learned it all in grammar school. Don Quixote, Ivanhoe, Robinson Crusoe, Gulliver’s Travels, Tale of Two Cities, all the rest – typical grammar school reading that gave you a way of looking at life, an understanding of human nature, and a standard to measure things by. I took all that with me when I started composing lyrics. And the themes from those books worked their way into many of my songs, either knowingly or unintentionally. I wanted to write songs unlike anything anybody ever heard, and these themes were fundamental.”
He summarizes three books that have influenced him a lot. The tone of his summaries and associations and self-confessions is a bit brash. He doesn’t put the works onto pedestals. He takes a fresh look at them, seems to ignore that they are all canonical. In his summary of Moby Dick he writes, “[y]ou can anticipate what will happen”. As if none of us had ever read Melville.
In the end of his lecture, Dylan sees the parallels between what he perceives as literature and what he perceives as songs. He writes:
“If a song moves you, that’s all that’s important. I don’t have to know what a song means. I’ve written all kinds of things into my songs. And I’m not going to worry about it – what it all means. When Melville put all his old testament, biblical references, scientific theories, Protestant doctrines, and all that knowledge of the sea and sailing ships and whales into one story, I don’t think he would have worried about it either – what it all means.
John Donne as well, the poet-priest who lived in the time of Shakespeare, wrote these words, ‘The Sestos and Abydos of her breasts. Not of two lovers, but two loves, the nests.’ I don’t know what it means, either. But it sounds good. And you want your songs to sound good.”
For Dylan the parallels between literature and songs run along the lines of effect, beauty and aesthetic influence—not meaning. In so far, he repudiates the Academy’s implicit approval of Dylan’s political songs.
Dylan does not get to eventually see further parallels or even update his old-fashioned idea of the differences between literature and songs. In contrast to literature, his songs belong to the land of the living, not the dead and the written. They need an audience and need to be experienced:
“Our songs are alive in the land of the living. But songs are unlike literature. They’re meant to be sung, not read. The words in Shakespeare’s plays were meant to be acted on the stage. Just as lyrics in songs are meant to be sung, not read on a page.”
I agree and I disagree with Dylan. Yes, songs are meant to be sung, most plays are meant to be acted on stage, novels are meant to be read … or read out or adapted and sung or put on stage or made into movies. They do not necessarily belong to the land of the dead. You can keep them alive by interacting with them. As literature is as alive as his songs, Bob Dylan is one of the great poets of our times—if he wants that or not. His poetry is out there for you to read or to listen to – either recorded or live.
Read the lecture here.
UPDATE: This might be a worthwhile read, too: Gavin Haynes, “It’s alright ma, I’m only cheating: did Bob Dylan crib his Nobel speech from SparkNotes?” at the Guardian.
This is a screen recording of the Prezi, I used at ELO2015 (you’ll find the complete programme here, and there is a list of video recordings). As the Prezi isn’t self-explanatory, I did a quick voice-over.
As crude a weapon as the cave man’s club, the chemical barrage has been hurled against the fabric of life–a fabric on the one hand delicate and destructible, on the other miraculously tough and resilient, and capable of striking back in unexpected ways. These extraordinary capacities of life have been ignored by the practitioners of chemical control who have brought to their task no “high-minded orientation,” no humility before the vast forces with which they tamper.
The “control of nature” is a phrase conceived in arrogance, born of the Neanderthal age of biology and philosophy, when it was supposed that nature exists for the convenience of man. The concepts and practices of applied entomology for the most part date from that Stone Age of science. It is our alarming misfortune that so primitive a science has armed itself with the most modern and terrible weapons, and that in turning them against the insects it has also turned them against the earth. [Rachel Carson, Silent Spring (Boston: Mariner, 2002) 297.]
What a truly remarkable and relevant book this is! Not only because it started the eco movement and is a canonical classic but also because it is still relevant today as the tendencies and the state of mind of people today–the age of globalization and of genetic engineering–is similar to the state of mind of the proponents of chemical control in the 1940s, 50s and 60s, described at the end of Carson’s book (cf. above).
Just found this in the official style sheet for contributions to the English Studies p-journal Anglistik. It’s fascinating.
Instead of …
Please use "quotation marks" instead of (typographic) “inverted commas” for all quotations…
… it should, of course, read …
Please use "double prime marks" (as you do to indicate inches or seconds) instead of “quotation marks” for all quotations…
Boyle, Joe, ed. Fault Lines: An Anthology of New Writing from the MA in Creative Writing (University College Dublin 2013). Dublin: Universal Publishing, 2013.
Where bought: Books Upstairs, just opposite Trinity’s main entrance.
Price: 10 €
“The Switch” by Alan James Keogh (26-33)
It’s the story of a man unhappy with his life who switches bodies and life with another man, who is unhappy for other reasons. In the end, the hope put into the switch proves to be a fantasma as the personality, the self remains the same. (Keywords: body, identity, mind, fat, unhappiness, happiness, loneliness, gym, sports, science fiction, fantasy, heterodiegetic, internal focalization, unreliable narrator, short story)
“At Peace” by Alan James Keogh (34-37)
Conceptional piece/creation story of a statue of a man. Nice writing exercise. (Keywords: statue, body, identity, happiness, fantasy, autodiegetic, internal focalization, short story)
“The Inheritance” by Neil Bristow (112-20)
The story of Daniel, an escort who has paid sex with men who have to wear the reeking pyjamas of his late grandfather. The reader learns about Daniel and his punter Lev bit by bit with the indirect characterization misleading all the time. The story, although being full of surprises, ultimately casts quite a dreary light on the history and the present lives of everybody in the story. (Keywords: escort, gender/sex/identity, gay, sex, family, money, abuse, poverty, heterodiegetic, internal focalization, short story)
[UPDATE: Read Neil Bristow’s story on-line.]
“A White Dove” by Martin Sheridan (122-37)
Story showing the perspectives of a group of adolescent ravers on drugs. This is some sort history of pop culture of the 1990s. The distance in time from our perspective is made graspable by putting the main character not in the centre of Dublin, but making him travel there from the suburbs at the beginning of the story. (Keywords: Bildungsstory, drugs, music, dance, Dublin, youth, history, rave, techno, short story)
…because I could easily live in the 19th century. This is how I see it:
And this is what I have missed:
Maybe it is the reading of late Victorian literature that has spoilt me in this respect. In terms of rules, the others are right, because generally, we double single consonant letters at the end of any base where the preceding vowel is spelled with a single letter and stressed. Here‘s a couple of examples, including the weird ‘parallelled’.
I have to confess that I no longer lend any book ever to anybody. Because it is exactly the book you most love that you feel you might lend to somebody. And it never comes back. It just never comes back. … There are so many books in my life that I couldn’t bear anyone to take away that I can’t quite think of it in my head what they might be because, in fact, the ones I most love, like, say, George Eliot’s Middlemarch, are also much the easiest to replace if somebody, by any chance, goes off with your copy. But when I was teaching at university, I used to, as it were, analyse the book in the front cover. So any copy I have ever taught, has got all my own, as it were, mapping and structural analysis in. And if anybody takes that even out of the shelves, I tremble with anxiety. And it’s true that the most honest people do walk off with books.
Komplett pietätlose Menschen–oder solche, die ihr so ein paar Dinge nicht verziehen haben (rücksichtslose Privatisierungen, radikale Einschnitte bei den Sozialleistungen (Schulmilch), sinnlose Massenarbeitslosigkeit, sinnloser Krieg, Abwicklung des Nordens, die weitere Verarmung der Armen, die großere Bereicherung der Reichen, den Umgang mit Gegnern (Gewerkschaften, Nordirland))–können also heute auf kritische Weise Frau Thatcher gedenken. Mit Musik ist das ganz wunderbar möglich. Bei Buzzfeed gibt es seit Oktober 2011 eine Liste von “21 Incredibly Angry Songs About Margaret Thatcher“. Die meines Erachtens hörenswertesten sind folgende:
Aber vielleicht haben diese Lieder bei oben genannten Menschen ja sogar eine kathartische Wirkung, so dass sie der alten Dame ein sympathisches “Rust in Peace” hinterherrufen können.
Alcalá seems to be very close here. However, it was a two hours walk from the place where I am staying as you cannot cross the river at the barrage of the Henares to access the hill/mountain. That’s my suggestion for city development: Build a bridge and an escalator from New Alcalá and the place will be teeming with people. Well, maybe not. There weren’t many people at the enchanting water front or the meadows of the flood plain. Oh, if you look carefully, you’ll notice the high-rise buildings on the horizon. This is Madrid.
If you’ve missed the beautiful film by Andrew Haigh last year or want to see Tom Cullen and Chris New again and again, there is another opportunity. For the slightly remote city of Trier, it will be the 1st public screening. Don’t hesitate. Come and watch…
5 JUNE 2012
7 p.m. (s.t.)
ADMISSION FREE. ALL WELCOME. SPREAD THE WORD.
BRITISH ORIGINAL WITHOUT SUBTITLES.
On a Friday night after hanging out with his straight mates, Russell heads out to a nightclub, alone and on the pull. Just before closing, he meets Glen. And so begins a weekend—in bars and bedrooms, getting drunk and taking drugs, telling stories and having sex—that will resonate throughout their lives.
Heute also habe ich meinen Receiver für den Empfang digitalen Fernsehens an Kabel Deutschland zurück geschickt. Jahre enttäuschter Fernsehhoffnungen für 16,90€ pro Monat enden damit.
Doch warum “enttäuscht”? Digitales Fernsehen über Kabel ermöglicht die Übertragung riesiger Datenmengen:
Damit verbunden ist auch die Möglichkeit neuer, aufregender, medienechter Formate und eine Differenzierung des Angebots hinsichtlich verschiedener Zielgruppen. Allerdings sind die beiden einzigen Dinge, die es für 16,90€ pro Monat tatsächlich gibt die Auflösung und der EPG. Ansonsten ist das Angebot so blöde wie auch schon zuvor. Keine neuen Fernsehformate, die sich der Technik ästhetisch bedienen würden. Nichts da mit einer sinnvollen Nutzung verschiedener Audiospuren. Ich hatte ja gedacht, dass man nun endlich auch fremdsprachige Filme/Serien/Shows/etc. im Originalton genießen kann. Die Unart des ungekonnten (weil stilistisch unbefriedigenden und inhaltlich falschen) Drüberquatschens a.k.a. Synchronisierens setzt sich im Digitalen fort. Systematisch werden ästhetische Medientexte entstellt und dann an den Kunden gegen Geld weitergegeben. (Das ist ein bisschen wie bei den DVD-Beilegern diverser Zeitschriften, die vorgeblich das Werk genialer Regisseure und talentierter Schauspieler enthalten, dann aber doch die Audiospur weglassen und irgendwelches Gequake von Martin Müller aus Mannheim und Klara Klein aus Kassel beigeben–nicht gegen die beiden persönlich.) Dabei wäre es ein Leichtes, statt des Stereotons und des 5.1-Tons der überquatschten Fassung einfach auch den Originalton zu übertragen. Das würde in der Lizenz für die zumeist eingekauften Serien und Spielfilme aus dem englischsprachigen Raum ein bisschen teurer. Aber dafür erfüllte man wenigstens ein sinnvolles der selbst verkündeten Heilsversprechen. Man muss sich einmal vor Augen halten, dass selbst Eigenproduziertes nicht vollständig weitergegeben wird (vgl. Arte).
Für 6,90€ weniger im Monat könnte man sich übrigens einen Proxy-Server in den USA oder dem Vereinten Königreich mieten und damit dann online Fernsehen aus dem englischsprachigen Raum sehen. Das wäre dann die Befreiung vom Diktat der Filmdrüberquatscher/Synchronsprechermafia. Endlich Trash als authentischer Trash mit den wahren Worten und den wahren Stimmen der Schauspieler. Das wäre ehrliches Fernsehen. Und wenn sich mal irgendwo ein Klötzchen bildete, dann könnte man lachen und an den alten digitalen Fernsehanschluss denken und wie sich da auch immer Klötzchen bildeten, wenn sich die Pumpe vom Kühlschrank abschaltete, oder wenn jemand auf das Kabel trat…