noblesse oblige

To again reaffirm that there is always something new to discover here, whether traveling a long distance or just around the corner, H and I went out--the bright sun though low on the horizon was deceptive, as it is still very cold, and explored the grounds of this little moated-castle (Wasserburg), and one of the ancestral homes of one of the German noble houses, though I think for a minor cadet branch, which still resides there.  The surrounding village still possessed some of its original character but the fancy castle looked rather out of place.

 I wondered what the neighbours thought of this abdicated royalty.  It reminded me of when we were house-hunting and seriously entertained the idea of renting another nearby castle of another famous personage (the count corrected us: it isn't a castle but a fortress, Veste).   The owner of the Wasserschloss returned while we were looking around and greeted us politely.  There was a sign on the bridge stating that visitors were welcome, and we certainly were not trespassing, although the reception was a little different once before when we were visiting the grounds of the residence of a noble family who became local banking magnates centuries past. 

We were walking around the stately manor and gardens when I presume the lord of land, current pretender to the throne, emerged from ye royal woodshed and alighted his horseless carriage.  He seemed rather disappointed that we did not kneel before him, or at least bow graciously.

my name is blue canary; one note: spelled l-i-t-e

Our beautiful, ultra-modern bird-feeder hangs rather neglected on the balcony.  I believe that the birds in this neighbourhood have an embarrassment of choices when it comes to dining options--even in the dead of winter, and they seem to prefer to poke around in the rain gutter just above, rather than visit this bird-house. 

Perhaps part of their hesitation, however, rests in the fact that I once brought home this other accomodation, which I later realized was purely ornamental: (as Admiral Akbar would proclaim, "It's a trap!") there is no floor, no levels, only a steep drop to the bottom for any unlucky visitor, but with an escape hatch in the back.  Hopefully, eventually, the birds will discover that this is here for them. 
Speaking of architectural idylls, I came across a very elegant website that showcases the strange and innovative in design spaces, with recent stories featuring plans for a nuclear-powered garrison-town under the ice of Greenland, a London underground map that reflected climate change and the sea level rise, and council-housing for London's future working-class robot population.

proper 80s degredation or shake up the picture, the lizard mixture with your dance on the eventide

Having just be enraptured by an authetic and verified soundtrack set firmly in the year 1983 (a merman I will be), I wanted, after acknowleding the historical accuracy of the score, to see the full theatrical music video to Duran Duran's masterpiece New Moon on Monday.  With some persistence, I found it and enjoyed it very much, however, I was beforehand denied several times.

Not wanting to see just a tribute, kareoke cover, I kept on and discovered that one is offered a rather incongruous and pregnant explanation, offered to learn more, which seemed a bit more apt than for all its emptiness and evasiveness, given what all can be delivered and what little cannot. Even doling out this rather insincere though mostly harmless excuse was a bit ironic since the music video has the backdrop of a vaguely European, totalitarian regime. The art work is from Patrick Nagel, who also graced the album cover for Rio (like the Wolf) and also from haircut catalog fame, which harks something of art deco but is at the same time a significant point of departure, prefiguring the minimalism of Anime and Manga. I spent the cold day with a lonely satillite.

re-post or ark of taste

The Goethe Institute, whose mission is to foster German language arts, has an engrossing interview with the founders of the Slow Media movement. Its blog (bilingual, but fully manifested in the original German) aims to promote sustainability in online missives, opera that are not merely timely but enduring and engaging and with enough quality and depth of substance to be worthy of archiving and reference. Their tenets parallel the slow food and related movements, and is certainly advocating reflection and polish. The internet, redundant by nature with multiple levels of fail-safes and permanent, is not only best utilized as a periodical for ephemera and false starts, never forgetting. Some venues and forums are made to celebrate what is best documented and merits discovery and a second look. I really like how the interview cites science journals as outstanding examples of the movement, and how former critics, realizing that the viral is not the most sustaining message, are coming around to the intersection of journalism and legacy.

agitprop

Still latching on to the common-denominator, and perhaps boogey-man, of the cable-dumps that left government the world around shame-faced, some in the media are attributing the recent, seminal and unfolding actions in Tunisia to the same phenomena.  While this publicity and focus is welcome--since most only vaguely know the country as the filming location for Tatooine where the cantina at Mos Eisley still stands, but specious, as if their woes were caused by Tusken Raiders, the Hutt mafia or the Sarlacc Pit.  The people of Tunisia did not need to be disabused to the source of their suffering, a corrupt regime supported by the French and the Americans in a sort of perverse beggar-thy-neighbour game, though the rest of the world is obligated to know now.  Transparency in the media is important because it affords no shelter to the corrupt and the attention it draws can be broad and coordinated and the blowback when dissidents discover what forces backed their oppression and frustration can be mighty, but should not diminish the acts of desperation the were symbols and catalysts in a revolution that is not just the next in the spectrum of flavours and colours and was as deep and evolved as storming the Bastille.

wayback machine

Our latest electronic help-mate is a pretty clever little device that backs up one's data, passively--parasitically almost, over one's local, WiFi network.  The external hard-drive--a little monolith that completes the henge in the office--can accomodate an incomprehensibly large though what is now a standard metric of information from up to three different sources, computers, and is sensible enough to save only what has been changed or added since the last session.  Keeping one's history and memories safe is quite different than one's indelible footprints on social networking sites.  Seeing the manufacturer's logo, instantly made me recall that I have an antique pair of silver cufflinks with nearly the same design, although I believe that the cufflinks show an amber wave of grain rather than a ocean swell.