Don’t Dream It’s Over
It has been a day of upheaval here in Britain. Gordon Brown resigned as Prime Minister and then Britain finally got its new government five days after the election.
And Neil Finn sported a moustache on BBC's Later With Jools Holland. Sadly, I'm all a-Twittering about that bit rather than the other bits..
.. I told my Other Half that I did not feel like breaking up my long-term relationship with Neil Finn (after all, it's been nearly twenty years - that is commitment, I'll have you know) but more like entering couples' therapy. My Other Half did not answer me. He is also not going with me to see The Crowdies next week. I wonder why?
Despite the upheaval and emotional turmoil (in more than one way - I am not that shallow), today has been a nice day. I was given a big box of posh chocolate because I did someone a favour. It was unexpected, but very lovely. I also have a finished object to show off (if I can decide whether it is a fascinator or a corsage).
The Candle in the Window
I put a lit candle on my window-sill tonight. It is a Danish tradition to do on the evening of May 4 in memory of May 4, 1945, the evening the Nazi Occupation of Denmark ended. I lit the candle in memory of family members, now long gone, who fought with the Danish Resistance. I also lit the candle thinking about democracy and the forth-coming British general election. I cannot vote in this election, and I have a sinking feeling about its likely outcome, but I appreciate living in a democracy (albeit one with a wacky voting system).
I liked this little re-drawn map of Europe (and in related news, my Eurovision Pundit Podcast debút)
And BIG, MASSIVE congratulations to the Hand-Knitted Pirate who is now Doctor Hand-Knitted Pirate.
The Shape of Things To Come
In time you'll recognise that love is larger than life
And praise will come to those whose kindness
leaves you without debt
and bends the shape of things to come
that haven't happened yet
One of the loveliest things ever sung.
Today is a tired, quiet day at Casa Bookish. I have booked train tickets for a trip to West Yorkshire next month. I am spending nearly five hours each way travelling through Berwick-Upon-Tweed, Durham and York until I reach my destination. It sounds heavenly: me, my iPod, my knitting and beautiful vistas. True to style I have already begun plotting my knitting project and have settled upon Peace with a Kidsilk Haze self-designed scarf as back-up plan. Meanwhile, my Millbrook cardigan is flying off the needles. I separated for the sleeves today.
And around the web:
The secret to Farmville's popularity is neither gameplay nor aesthetics. Farmville is popular because in entangles users in a web of social obligations. When users log into Facebook, they are reminded that their neighbors have sent them gifts, posted bonuses on their walls, and helped with each others' farms. In turn, they are obligated to return the courtesies. As the French sociologist Marcel Mauss tells us, gifts are never free: they bind the giver and receiver in a loop of reciprocity.
A very interesting look at the curious popularity of Farmville.
Those who wonder whether the social media will "affect the outcome" of the [British general] election are asking the wrong question. It is affecting the outcome of everything, from having an idea, buying a pair of jeans or going on a date. It is not the dweeby tweets of campaigners, or the sad slanging matches between beer-fuelled political hacks that matter. What matters is that a new conversation is out there, and the first politician to look vaguely like they knew this got a (what may be short term) boost from this.
Paul Mason looks at how technology may be shifting electoral behaviour. I am not eligible to vote in the UK general election, but I still follow the election with a mix of bemusement, incredulity and curiosity. Earlier this week I checked the main candidates running in my local area - let's just say, it was interesting.
Finally, can you believe that these people get to make calls on how we all look? No, me neither..
Reading the Past
The economic recession has claimed many victims. The first phase saw people losing jobs, companies going bankrupt and banks folding. Experts say that this first wave is over. Signs of economic growth are visible in the financial sectors. We are now living through the second phase: spending cuts have to be made. This is all very textbook Keynesian economic theory and I recommend reading up on John Maynard Keynes (quite apart from being a significant economist, Keynes was also part of the Bloomsbury group alongside Virginia Woolf, E.M. Forster and Lyndham Lewis) if most of the current financial news leaves you confused.
Spending cuts hurt. Before Christmas, many of my physicist friends were shocked when spending cuts to the tune of £115m were made in the science research sector. When I graduated from university in Denmark some seven or eight years ago, I saw what huge spending cuts will do to scientific research. It was not pretty. My then-department went from being autonomous with at least six new PhD students every year to being yoked together with five other subjects and get one PhD student every other year. The departmental restructuring made for some interesting cross-pollination, but also for disastrous academic results.
And so I learn that Kings College London may have to shut down its Palaeography department in order to meet budget targets. No restructuring, no "let us marry you to Library Science (however awkward) or maybe History or how about Archaeology?" and no shuffling the cards. I am not just saddened. I am shocked. KCL is the only place in the UK to have a Palaeography department and, I believe, even the only place in Europe.
Palaeography, the study of ancient handwriting, may sound like a very obscure subject - and really it is an obscure subject - but it is also incredibly important to scholars. Printing being a very recent invention, most available written material was done by hand and scholars need to be able to decipher handwriting. You get different writing systems (think Cuneiform), different alphabets (think how different the Phoenician alphabet looks to the Latin alphabet) and then different ways of interpreting the alphabets through writing. Pre-printing, many European kingdoms would have their own way of combining and forming letters - Johanna Drucker is particularly good on this, if you want to read more - and some handwriting is only intelligible to specialists who have studied handwriting traditions of a particular area (South Germany, for instance). So much material is now being made available by library specialists, but now I wonder who will be around to read, understand and disseminate this material.
(If I had know that Palaeography existed as a discipline when I started university, I would have ended up in a very different place to now. As is, most of my knowledge is filtered through print culture, so I apologise for any glaring mistakes)
Losing Its Reputation
"Denmark is losing its reputation for being a good world citizen." - Naomi Klein
Danish police arrest 150 demonstrators as world leaders arrive at Copenhagen conference. Mainstream groups such as Friends of the Earth have been barred from the conference centre ("Every delegate from the international environmental campaign group arrived at the centre this morning to find their badges were no longer valid."). This follows the highly controversial preventive arrests by Danish police earlier this week, the arrest of a German spokesman for Climate Justice action, police raids on climate campaigners and, lest we forget, a warm welcome for President Mugabe by Danish PM Lars Løkke Rasmussen.
"The Copenhagen conference is fast becoming an international shambles." - Andy Atkins
For me, I welcomed the incredulity on the BBC news readers' faces as they interviewed a spokesperson, Henrik Suhr, for the Danish police force, the use of "preventive arrests" and Mr Suhr's insistence that "if you do not want to be arrested, you should not be demonstrating" (let me draw your attention to the UN's own Universal Declaration of Rights and, in particular, Articles 19 and 20). The BBC journalists' reaction were very different to the type of journalism I had grown used to in Denmark in the last decade or so.
And as I'm typing this, a climate deal seems increasingly unlikely.
Bulletpoints
A few brief links:
- Why not visit Pompeii from the comfort of your own home? The ruins of Pompeii are now available on Google Street View.
- This is absolutely lovely: Flare, a wind-sensitive electronic dress. "As the wind gently caresses the dress or if you "blow" on the dandelions themselves, a pattern of lights will twinkle across the dress."
- I have fallen head over heels with at least three of the garments in Rowan 47. A preview is available from Rowan's site (it is slow-loading, beware). My current favourite is the pink filly concoction in KidSilk Haze. I might knit in another colour, mind.
- An illuminated snowflake. At some point I will get one of my scientist friends to show me how to make these.
- A YouTube clip chronicling Franz Ferdinand's use of Soviet interwar avant-garde graphic design/art. Ah, El Lissitzky. Be still my heart.
- Starbucks will start selling Flat Whites in the UK in the new year. I love Flat Whites and hope they'll become available in Glasgow too. Yum. (thanks, Kimfobo)
- This little clip makes me a little sad that I won't be in Blighty for Christmas (thank heavens for iPlayer)
- Finally, I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. The first sleeve on David's pullover is done! Let me do a small \o/ - and as my stepfather's Christmas is done , I feel like I can cast on the delightful Yule Pig potholders in good faith that they'll be done before Christmas. I might even throw in a Christmas tree or two, thanks to these spiffing Christmas socks.
Those Who Cannot Remember the Past..
.. are condemned to repeat it.
Or, in other words, try reading this news article about Switzerland banning minarets, replace the words "minaret" with "synagogue" and "Muslim" with "Jewish" and then ask yourself what it reminds you of? A simple semantic trick, but a very useful one.
Meanwhile, I have become slightly addicted to Galaxy Zoo. When Earth becomes a bit too much, it's nice to disappear into space. Literally.
The Connection Is Made
Sitting here in dark, rainy Scotland does not feel so bad, when I look at the Danish Budget for 2010. Among all the talk about a new super-hospital and whatnot, the government is now going to offer non-Western immigrants up to £12,000 for giving up their legal residency and returning "home". The Budget also includes £500,000 to mark overseas Danish cultural heritage - particularly the former slave colonies of Ghana and The West Indies. At the risk of sounding cryptic: Denmark is now what the Daily Mail wants Britain to become.
In more personal news, my aunt died this week and my family attended her funeral in rural Denmark today. Although she was a distant relative of mine - I think I met her four or five times - I am very sad on behalf of her siblings, her daughter and her grandson. Rest in peace.
And while I was pondering writing about my life and how it has changed these past ten years, I have decided against doing so. I am amused to note, though, that the Noughties are bookended by me sitting in a dreich Scottish city during November lamenting the lack of double-glazing and proper heating. In 2000 I sat in Stirling (also known as "Hellmouth" - after living there I swore I'd never return to Scotland) and here in 2009 I am sitting in Glasgow. I hope to finish the next decade sitting somewhere warm and sunny. Ha.
Finally, Other Half and I watched a snippet of a BBC programme last night about the Orient Express. We decided that a jolly little train trip would be good fun at some point in the not-too-distant future and today I checked just how much such a jolly little train trip would set us back. £3,700 for the both of us for a jolly little train trip lasting maybe 36 hours and not including any extra frills. I think we may need to rethink that holiday idea.
Twenty Years Ago Today
Twenty years ago today my mother woke me up early. She was crying. Last time she woke me up crying, Olof Palme had just been assassinated. This time, though, my mother's tears were not angry, horrified and sad tears. She was crying with joy. The Berlin Wall had fallen.
I went to school that day. My teachers cancelled all our scheduled classes and were bust talking amongst themselves. My German teacher - the great-grandson of Paul Gauguin, by the way - sat us down to watch news reports coming in from West Germany. I still recall another teacher crying in the school yard. She was part-German. Today I suspect her German family might have fled here from the East as they never visited any of their relatives until the early 1990s.
Today it is difficult to explain what life were like before the end of the Cold War. I lived in Denmark, a small country just north of both East and West Germany. Occasionally you'd hear stories about people escaping from East Germany across the southernmost Baltic Sea to southern Denmark. Occasionally you'd also hear about people travelling the opposite direction. Swedes were paranoid about Soviet submarines and Danes were paranoid about East German spies within Danish political ranks. I was just a child when it all changed but I could definitely tell something had changed. At school they stopped teaching us how to react in event of a nuclear war, for instance.
Twenty years ago today.
I Am An Immigrant
Last night the leader of the British National Party was part of the panel on a BBC politics programme. I was glad he got the chance to be on the panel. Last time I checked Britain was a democracy with free speech and I thought it just that the leader of the BNP got a chance to speak his mind.
I am an immigrant. I have been thinking of getting a t-shirt going "This Is What an Immigrant Looks Like". Maybe if I start wearing it, people will tell me why I’m wrong to be in the UK, why my presence is destroying Britain, just how I'm shattering social cohesion and in what way I'm inciting hatred. Also, I'd like to know why people want me to leave the man I love and thus ruin the life we have built together. If I wear my t-shirt, maybe the leader of the British National Party could tell me how my genetic make-up differs from his and why this alleged genetic difference makes me unwelcome in Britain in his eyes.
Earlier this month I was speaking with Anna about immigration and British politics. Our conversation made me wonder about the people who choose to become immigrants - that is, people like me - and whether we share a certain mentality or set of characteristics?
It takes a lot to uproot yourself from where you grew up and go live another country. It is not easy; it is not something you 'just do'. Once you are in that other country, you have to learn everything a-new. When do the banks open? Where do you go to buy electric bulbs? How do you get a library card? What is the difference between the various supermarkets? What's my clothes size? All this assumes that you are already fluent in the local language - if not, then you have to start learning that language or, in my case, get to grips with a particular local dialect.
I love living in Britain but it has been a long, labourious process getting to this stage. I love the beautiful landscapes with mountains and glens. I love being able to buy the books and records I want straight off the shelves rather than having to order them from abroad. I love tiny, unexpected things like bunting, rich tea biscuits, finding Roman coins, and Christmas stockings. But I still miss aspects of Denmark and I suspect I always will.
Ah, that reminds me of something which caused a kerfluffle among Danes yesterday (most people did not know whether to laugh or cry): Oprah Tours a Typical Danish Home. Because ALL Danes live like that. Uh huh. Absolutely. Yup.
Now I'm off to make myself some milky tea and some toast (how utterly radical of me!). I hope you have a lovely day no matter who you are and where you live. And be nice to your fellow human beings.