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Channel Four had a jaunty little documentary about Erich
von Däniken, the other night - I ploughed through his
books in my youth, but never
really knew anything about the man who wrote them; that he was imprisoned for
embezzlement and monetary fraud after a ludicrously over-dramatic Swiss court
case, and how cheerfully he admitted parts of his work to be "half true".
By far the strangest thing to come out of it all, though, was the announcement of a
Mysteries
of the World theme park, due to open in Switzerland next year. Feebly
smallish-scale replicas of Aztec temples, Nazca lines and things, by the looks
of it. Very mysterious indeed.
(Although I had no idea that the British Museum had
moai...)
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Meme du jour; Rob's
Amazing Poem Generator, which takes a Web
page of your choice and makes insane poetry out of it. Feeding it
the contents of this drivel, it came out with the following piece
of rather startling brilliance:-
As Above as Above at
eat to the simplistic,
slightly puzzled narrative
giving
a metaphor it took five years,
the rest
of his plan to be
set up elsewhere
and
thus is readable, for a
history of life.
Shades of Megahal's oeuvre.
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Alarming how easily I forget that people actually read this. Speaking to
Sandy
last night, and muttering vaguely about being ill, I was rather thrown
when he said that yes, he knew. Rather like the bit in Making History
where someone appears to be quite sinisterly well-informed of the
protagonist's past history, when he's actually just done a Web search
and read the chap's personal home page prior to their meeting.
I'm better now, anyway. I think.
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Being ill has given me a chance to plough through some books, though;
I finished off Matt Ridley's
The
Origins of Virtue over the weekend - nicely-written insight into how
human society can exist as it does, in spite of the selfish nature of
all of its inhabitants. Explaining the evolution of trust and
reciprocity, through war, trade, gift-giving, ecology and religion,
it gives a nicely-written history of all these aspects of our
species, constantly littering the chapters with memorable examples
and explanations (including impressive demolition of the "noble
savage" myth), and drawing or destroying parallels with other
members of the animal kingdom.
The other was Rupert Thomson's Soft,
a tale of fizzy-drink advertising taken too far, of a particularly
dangerously piece of memetic marketing. Told from the perspectives
of three very different protagonists, their hefty chunks of
narrative overlap and converge towards some very unsettling
plot turns. Besides the superb plot, the book's quite thoroughly readable
for its style alone - although Thomson goes rather over the top
with descriptive similes, at times, they're all quite beautiful,
giving a very real and varying London backdrop to the majority of
the book's events. Must read his other stuff.
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Unnerving how physical illness can emphasise the connection and
disconnection between mind and body so heavily. I've been lolling
around nauseously for most of today and
the weekend, thoroughly aware of the superfluousness of my
consciousness - my mind feeling listless and detached, and
constantly being told that it might as well just go to sleep and
let the body get on with sorting things out. Diversion of
physiological resources, and all that. Strange how automated and
unconscious it all is. And depressing how much of a metaphor it can
seem, for myself in relation to the rest of life. Tch.
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