SphinxNoMore, aka Mike -- on location
So great to see snapshots and anecdotes about your life in Indonesia, Mike.
The piece about humble Asian vehicles reminded me about an accident I once witnessed in India.
Two motorised rickshaws collided at an intersection and both tipped over.
Then out came the occupants, no-one hurt and everyone laughing.
I just thought: how HUMAN.
Lovers of the old, forgotten and obsolete,
Go this way for more of (Dutch photographer) Mornixuur:
and that way to explore whole worlds laid waste:
OK, now w/o clicking anything, what would you do with this?
I will divulge a very good supplier Tumblelog to anyone who has a reasonable go at guessing, deducing or imagining…
fuckyeahthebeatles:
(c) imonlysleeping.info
I have wondered if the (really young) kids collaborating on this picture blog know how powerful these images are for those of us who saw and experienced Beatlemania, anticipated every new release, obsessed over the music, lyrics and eventually crumbling relationships between John, Paul, George and Ringo.
They come up with some great finds, most of which I have never seen anywhere else.
Google and China parting company
The best news from the internet behemoth lately is not another gee-whiz innovation but a pull-back on the grounds of interference in China.
Bravo for this stand, Google
At the time we made clear that “we will carefully monitor conditions in China, including new laws and other restrictions on our services.
If we determine that we are unable to achieve the objectives outlined we will not hesitate to reconsider our approach to China.” These attacks and the surveillance they have uncovered—combined with the attempts over the past year to further limit free speech on the web—have led us to conclude that we should review the feasibility of our business operations in China.
We have decided we are no longer willing to continue censoring our results on Google.cn, and so over the next few weeks we will be discussing with the Chinese government the basis on which we could operate an unfiltered search engine within the law, if at all.
We recognize that this may well mean having to shut down Google.cn, and potentially our offices in China.
How can kids play outside at -34? And is weather in the mind?
The coldest I have ever experienced was -10 in Canada, and the intensity of such cold is burnt/frozen into my memory — so how can children play in -34? I have to assume it is in their genes and that the preparation begins before they’re born, but would welcome some insights. I am speaking from a personal experience of life at -10 at one extreme and +45C at the other, and most of the time acquainted with between 10 and 25.
The experiences of Shackleton and other polar explorers fascinate me precisely because I can’t even get out of bed if it’s under 8, let alone imagine how they endured stretches in the coldest conditions known to man. (Going against the genetic theory: I did not inherit my father’s stoicism or my mother’s imperviousness to cold) Anyway, back in Canada …
It had been getting progressively and predictably cooler through the autumn and apart from a thoroughly unpleasant moment at a hilltop lookout in a chilly wind I had been doing OK. I had thermals, fleece, a coat, gloves, ear muffs and a tight-fitting hat. But the air that hit my face on opening the door to -10 seared like a knife. Obviously people there just get used to it — in that part of Ontario they boast that it reaches -30 in winter, and expect to be admired for their stoutness (as in stout resistance). But I come from a temperate climate where over 30 was unusual in my childhood and a maximum of 5 on a winter’s day in the very south of New Zealand (with heavy frosts) was defined as cold. We biked to school bare-legged on all but the iciest mornings — school uniform was a tunic and blouse with ankle socks — but had to fight for space at the heaters to thaw our fingers out before we could even hold a pencil, and some children got chilblains.
Buildings were draughty, and the attitude of our elders was stoic: don’t be a sissy. The Norwegian kids of the article I mentioned (pic found at the home of Norwegian Steroge)
A few years later I found myself living in Melbourne, Australia, where I endured my unhappiest winter ever in 1974. The temperatures were probably unremarkable but my memory of that June and July is totally dominated by a southerly wind experienced while waiting for the tram to work. Is weather in the mind? The upshot of each miserable morning was lunchtimes spent in Myer Foodhall sampling every fatty food I could cram in but favouring the nuts … until (then) hubby and I decided to flee north in August.
Having been told by a Myer department store medical examiner before I even began the job there that I was overweight, I had not only been depressed, bored, ostracised, cold, hungry and frustrated but humiliated as well. ~ ~ ~ But going back to the kids playing in -34: the ability to endure these extremes must be inherited through generations, is it?
I am asking anyone who knows and has experienced it, particular those forced to adapt to brutally different conditions. I now live in a climate where many people hunch their shoulders, cross their arms and motion about coldness when it is as warm as 18 degrees. And as I was buying a top the other day at the same old Myer department store chain (different branch, thank God), the assistant commented on how cool and suitable the fabric would be for summer “if summer ever comes”.
It was about 28 outside at the time, and I had water pouring down my back.
What’s more I can’t sleep most nights because the temperature doesn’t cool down and the heat is sticky. That, in fact, is why I’m even writing this now: because I can’t sleep for the oppressive, windless heat we’re experiencing here, day and night!
… I was never allowed to forget as over the years the story of our first unfortunate introduction grew from me asking her age - which I only partially admit to - to me asking her age, spilling food on her new tablecloth and making inquiry as to how long she had been a widow …
Just another chapter in the story of Red’s family life.
Life and story-telling, the woman is a legend. You young Tumblrs out there … read her! You’ll like her!
Every detail of this picture makes me feel at home.
Even in the mid-Sixties the church represented a nostalgic past, rightly placed in a frame over the mantelpiece. And the local vicar was either offered a beer or given short shift when calling to ask where we’d been.
This family, however, probably lived in a better street than us, judging by the posh lamp.
It doesn’t matter. We watched everything in the early days, and hushed any visitors.
Pic from an article on technology on display at one of Charles’s homes





