hall of fame

Graciously, the Gentle Author of Spitalfields Life invites us to seek refuge from the hustle of the High Street and hide a bit in an old haunt—The Champion located in the West End, just off the retail monotony of Oxford Street—and soak up the atmosphere.
Though the pub has been there on the corner of Wells and Eastcastle since the mid-nineteenth century, a contemporary of the Victorian explorers and sports pioneers depicted in stained glass, these were much later additions, commissions from the accomplished artist Ann Southeran installed in 1989 to give the place some added character, and include the subject Captain Matthew Webb (*1848 - †1883) who was the first recorded individual to cross the English Channel under his own power. In 1875, Webb swam from Dover to Calais in just under twenty-two hours, fighting the powerful rip-tide and painful jellyfish stings. Sadly, Webb’s later stunt of crossing the Whirlpool Rapids below Niagara Falls proved to be too treacherous and Webb died during his swim. Webb’s life and legacy are remembered in the poem “A Shropshire Lad” by Poet Laureate John Betjeman and the caricature of him that appeared on a brand of weatherproof matches is said to have been the model for Peter Sellers’ Inspector Clouseau. Much more to explore at the link above plus a detailed gallery of the Champions at the link above.

xристос воскрес! воістину воскрес!

page not found

Referred by the always remarkable Miss Cellania, we find the HTTP 404 (see also here, here and here) response code pages for the United States 2020 presidential candidates’ campaign websites’ up for inspection and ranked.
A lot of them are pretty funny and self-aware, and while we find a strong sense of revulsion leading with anything that narcissistic nihilist and cult leader, the Trump-Pence redirect error page—coming in twenty-third and indeed on the bottom of the heap—does illustrate the textbook definition of a sore-winner (so much winning) and the fact that he’s been unable to move beyond 2016.

cast iron plant

Reputedly pollinated by the same slugs and snails that are the bane of other garden and hot-house cultivars, the resilient houseplant called the Aspidistra elatior (an import from the Far East) became a prop prominently photographed and synonymous with “middle class respectability” for its prevalence in the Victorian Era, all aspirants able to care for a bit of greenery in their homes.
This particularly hardy cultivar’s popularity, however, owed to its ability to weather and withstand neglect and even thrive in the dim and close quarters of city dwellers with the noxious fumes and soot that came from gaslights that otherwise made keeping houseplants a fruitless prospect. This wide-spread obsession even prompted George Orwell to pen a critical commentary with the novel Keep the Aspidistra Flying about a character who attempted for defy the usual social conventions of status and acquisition and was thwarted by society at large for his stepping out of line. The 1936 book—which was not a romcom—was adapted into a 1997 film with Helena Bonham Carter and Richard E Grant that was titled “A Merry War” for US audiences.

7x7

imperium: the rise and fall of colonial powers visualised

aggressively, chillingly ahuman: for some inscrutable algorithmic purpose, a bot created a video of a blog post—via Super Punch

wholecloth: these colourful quilts from artist Bisa Butler that tell a story

acanthus leaf: Plants and their Application to Ornament (1896) from Eugène Grasset

totus mundus agit histrionem: for the Bard’s birthday, a Shakespearean version of Trivial Pursuit

law-suuuuuuuu-uuuit: the yodeller behind the Yahoo! campaign was led to believe it was only a regional promotion—via Miss Cellania’s Links

belt and road project: the Australian Strategic Policy Institute conducted a comprehensive study of Chinese technological influence globally—via Maps Mania 

emblematic

Through acknowledging the obsolesce of these artefacts, designer Takuma Yamazaki has created an elegant hanko (判子) that impresses a scannable QR code which can contain and redirect toward the public and private autobiographies of the bearer, nicely spanning the continuum between the past, present and the increasingly connected future.
These seals, also called inkan (印鑑) are used to stamp important documents in lieu of a signature, but modern technology and advances in printing have antiquated much of the security features than these personal devices offered—opening up individuals to fraud and a sort of identity-theft. Hanko, especially government and corporate ones that wield authority, are often kept under lock and key to avoid the potential for counterfeiting—a funny contradiction since this prototype digital cartouche embosses what’s meant to share and inform. More to explore at the link above.