||the Seventh of November, 2002|
"etymology - late 14c., from Gk. etymologia, from etymon 'true sense' (neut. of etymos 'true,' related to eteos 'true') + logos 'word.' In classical times, of meanings; later, of histories."
A sterlingly thorough Etymology Dictionary, to keep within arm's reach at all times. The English-usage of "panache" isn't actually derived from the French for "shandy" after all...
"Comment tu t'appelles? Je m'appelle Didi.
The GCSE-level French rap comedy duo Priorité
à Gauche are still dans la maison, it seems, with a web page
touting their new album, including the legendary Tricolore 2001, quoted above...
J'aime la musique pop et j'habite à Paris.
Où est la poste? Où est le cinéma?
Prenez la gauche et après c'est tout droit.
J'aime l'Orangina, et le panaché.
Ecoutez et répétez."
|And again, from our ominous personal vantage point, a photo of
Chrissy's; "Ahh am GORD".
|Last night's "enemy of the bonfire" to be burned in giant effigy was,
and I was greatly impressed that they dared, Mr George W Bush. A
twenty-foot representation of the man himself, drooling his way through
fistfuls of a world-shaped cake, with a comedy-arrow missile through his
skull and a Nike-swoosh "Ah'll just do it" emblazoned across his
back. Photos of him being wheeled down Cliffe High Street to follow, this
"Lewes, East Sussex: liberal Middle England, a nice quiet
place. Except on 05 November that is, when the town immerses itself in a
night of booze, political sloganeering and pyromania."
Shop windows are being boarded up, the roads closed off, reflective-jacketed police officers and stripey-shirted smugglers gathering in the dusk - the
blazing insanity of Lewes Bonfire Night
is fast approaching...
|Printable paper rulers, mentioned here on the same
basis that they might be useful some day. This is a good strength of
Internet bookmarks and weblogs and flat old web pages - being able to
keep hold of all sorts of informative rubbish without it taking up
significant physical space. The sooner we can scan in household objects
and get them remoulded afresh by lasers, the better.
|Four Random Nouns and a Funeral,
The 39 Random Nouns,
The Random Noun Children,
The Charge Of The Random Noun Brigade:
Random British Movie Titles.
Leonard is very nearly out of a job.
|Three days earlier - 28 Days Later. Thoroughly
glorious; emphatically not a zombie film, says Boyle, but it works in a
lot of the undead's strongest motifs, and sharpens them up into fresh new drama.
Immediate infection! Passable intelligence! Not lurching, but sprinting!|
The film nods to Romero and Wyndham quite a few times throughout, and
ends up as an edgy combination of the two, thrown together in 21st
century Britain. Occasionally it feels rather more like lazy plagiarism
than fond homage, but the fresh setting and tangents make up for it;
some skilful touches of topicality and modern life in there, with a
mighty radiator-bound parallel that suddenly casts the film, and
Britain, in a chilling new light. Much stuff to talk about on the way
home, after you've finished walking through a cineplex full of
bellowing, sprinting teenagers...
CAMRAD Update #4
"The video showed up too early for me. I don't think the campaign yet
commands the sort of zeitgeist where you'd expect to see people taking
the piss. If people are going to spoof it, you might as well spoof it
yourself. It's a very good way of getting cheap publicity."
Crude and amateurish email-propagated advert parodies might actually be
commissioned by the companies being satirised; inveigling further into the
collective consumer consciousness whilst getting away with stuff they
wouldn't dare to broadcast on television.
The article itself is an advert for a couple of viral companies and
the (currently unavailable) eatmail.tv,
a members-only viral-infection newsletter site for opinion-forming patient zeroes; itself
a slightly less exploitative version of Proctor and Gamble's current plans to