product elasticity or wappenschmidt

Inspired by the rather inordinate and unseemly public hue and cry that followed a clothing label's decision to change its logo that could be considered familiar if not iconic, which surely inspired more directed debate and attention than a lot of other more important things, I thought I would try my hand at reimagining our fair and fake city.  Being that there's already inconsistent signage with different looks all about the town, the classic heraldry, a pop-art version with squares and a Q*Bert like creature, and a few not particularly memorable or creative, I thought I could offer this one up for municipal consideration, if only to rescind it later and pretend it never happened.  Maybe there should be a whole series of pop-art incarnations of this, lozenge, tinctures, field.

knock-about or double-rainbow day

H and I are just back from holiday in western Ireland and environs.  The visit was absolutely outstanding in all regards: the people, the history, the ancient and holy sites, but the natural wonderments were really superlative.  Here are just a few snapshots.  More photographs and stories are posted on the companion blog.

Downpatrick Head

This tall rocky outcropping at Downpatrick's Head was where the Devil lived but crumbled away from the mainland in the Middle Ages, and like the snakes, was banished from Ireland.

Doolin Harbour

At the southern edge of the karst moonscape, the Burren, we visited the village of Doolin before traveling on to the amazing Cliffs of Moher.

Cliffs of Moher

  There was no end of things to see and we certainly did not exhaust the Connemara region, with its undulating ribbons of coastline and picture-perfect drives.  We did venture further north, however, through County Sligo.  On the descent from the hike up Knocknarea Mountain, we had a spectacular view of Ben Bulben, which dominated the land like a green version of Ayers Rock, sides carved out by rivulets that swelled with cascading white water after a good, brief rain.



Ben Bulben

 

And about the weather, it was forever damp but the rains only stayed for a brief spell and afterwards we were rewarded with a cavalry of rainbows, coming one right after another, like the dominions of Rainbow Brite, My Little Pony and the Care Bears all put together.  Here was a particularly nice one over the fjord that frames Killary Harbour, just looking out of the window of our cottage.

Killary Habour

ichthys

My mother also has an extensive holy collection, icons, monstrances, crucifixes, and Jesuses--a Jesus Corner.  Once, in what may well be an apocryphal episode but still a cute story nonetheless, a visitor, a neighbor, studying the assemblage, remarked, "Gee, you have so many Henrys."  Henrys?  "You know, 'Inri."  The INRI is the initialism for Iesus Nazarenus, Rex Iudaeorum, Jesus from Nazareth, King of the Jews that was hung above the Cross.  In some places and at certain times, one hears the phrase "Jimminy H. Christmas" or "Jesus H. Christ" flung around like His middle name was Henry or something, whereas the H is actually a majuscule Greek letter Eta, one form of the definite article, the.  Incidentally, the once secret fish symbol for Christians, the Ichthys, probably originated itself because Jesus' birth fell at the dawn of the zodiacal age of Pisces, the Fish.

news of the world

Though it may be just a case of very poor timing, it is interesting to observe that the council of astronomers, perhaps the same body that demoted Pluto and bereft the Scorpios of a ruling planet, is now recanting the surety of the discovery of Gliese 581g, saying that perhaps the readings were not rigorously peer-reviewed beforehand, just after this bulwark of journalism seemingly patched together a random and incredulous old report of strange signals emanating from the neighborhood of the star. It is as if once that news organization picked up on or wanted in on the story, it spoiled it for everyone else, and made skepticism a much more acceptable stance. I always wondered how many premature claims could be attributed to smudge on the lens, stellar pareidolia and scientists forcing the results they are expecting, but nonetheless, the bulk of the findings from the exoplanet spotting missions are unprocessed or have already yielded more solid discoveries. I hope a hopeful and curious audience does not become overly suspicious or jaded by the next big revelation.

mothballed

English language daily The Local has an interesting piece on the secret bank bunker, prompted by West-East tensions with the building of the Berlin Wall and Cuban Missile Crisis in the 1960s, in Cochem at the bend of the Mosel, close to Bonn and Wiesbaden. Of course, there was much area speculation on the nature of the shelter but there was no official disclosure regarding the contents until just a few weeks ago, including some 15 billion Marks on reserve in the form of an Ersatz currency to be used to counteract hyperinflation in the event of an emergency. Guided tours are ensuing.

I suppose that this mechanism could only so far in terms of stabilizing a devastated economy and with the lapse of the Cold War, there are certain priorities that would not pass muster as far as government sanctioned paranoia, but countries should not be so quick to abandon their sanctuaries and refuges because apprehension is adept at reinvention. A secret bank bunker might be handy in the event of a currency war and other market shocks. Continuity projects, like at Greenbriar or Denver Airport or Ullenwood, secret or not, in terms of infrastructure and intention are still valuable real estate.  I would like to take a tour of that bank bunker and explore the underworld caverns.