Today was going to be the glorious day when I wouldn't sit here, at an ungodly hour, searching the cavities of my mind - in vain - for some crappy topic to write a few dodgy lines on, to fulfill my rashly-stupid post-a-day pledge; for already in the morning, at the bus stop, a subject came to me, complete with some sentences, a rare and appreciated wonder (thank you, Baby Jesus).
However. Disaster struck, as it so often does in human life - indeed, often precisely when the tiny human is at her most gratefully merry over how well it has all turned out, in the end. Over the course of my working day, I have forgotten what it was I was going to blog about. Fuck.
So here I am again, at an ungodly hour cetra, searching the cavities of my mind cetra. But there's nothing quite like the human spirit, the sheer gritty willpower, the so-very-Finnish sisu, particularly when assisted by Our Friend, The Internet, for the blog posts are all sitting there, methinks, waiting to be plucked and played.
Or bloody something. Anyway, my foraging around online has brought me two gems tonight. No, actually way more - it's been a good evening for the Internet - but let's see how many I can squeeze in before I collapse.
The eminent scientists Prof and Dr Wickramasinghe, from the Cardiff Centre for Astrobiology (yes, I'm sticking with heavenly matters), are suggesting that the airborne microbial life, which the atmosphere of Venus (yes, the planet) might support, might, under suitable conditions - solar wind strength, solar and planetary alignments, that sort of thing - be blown into the Earth's atmosphere within weeks, maybe only days. Alright, so the alignment conditions aren't right at the moment, so you don't need to don your tin-foil hats just yet - wait till 2012 for that - but it's still fairly shatteringly sci-fi news, even with a double "might" in one sentence. There might be titchy-tiny life flying about on our planetary neighbour. It might fly here. And while some other scientist guy - a Prof Fred, or something - is dissing this suggestion as "extremely unlikely", my faith is with the coolly-named Wickramasinghes. And no, I made none of that up (not even Cardiff).
The other thing was also celestial in nature - I chanced upon this other unfeasibly-named guy Karl O Knausgaard's top ten books about angels. He himself has written one, and lo, I wish to read it - the Independent guy adored it ("a heavenly delight"), the Guardian guy pretty much hated it, but with a name like Knausgaard, I can't let this author go by me unread. Besides which, as one of his top ten books he lists Poems and Fragments by Friedrich Hölderlin, and while I'm only aware of Hölderlin as a name, really, what he says about the book is sufficient to make me want to read his.
Okay - now I have run out of momentum. But I'm glad the angels got a mention.
Friday, December 12, 2008
Yes, I realise odd names are my weakness
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2 comments:
No, I whispered to myself, don't do this to ms etherically radiant Icemaiden, for have I not enough to contend with trying to read the pile that is growing by my bed, and me all brain-scrambled, sneakily burying my face in the Observer colour supplement while Mr. S (I kid you not) ploughs steadily on through War and Peace? But now, look you, I will have to get a load of this Angel book you found. But who to believe - Independent or Grauniad. Well although we get the latter, I'm not terribly smitten by Salley Vickers, so the Independent review gets me.
You are getting a bit good at this post-a-day lark. So watch it.
Ha. Watching it most closely, sweet esteemed Soini Sister. But the book looks good, no? And not just because of the strange name of the dude, either (although it's one that I have to keep repeating, silently, in my mouth, turning it over like a pastille, for some words just are that way).
Mr S, however, has my full esteem, for much as I like or even love the Russians, I haven't ever even attempted War and Peace. Respect, Mr S, all the way from the icy salmiakki wastelands.
And a mweh to you, sees.
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