Tag Archives: Strange things

Something wrong? Or just my imagination?

Posted on by
4

There’s something wrong.

Well, maybe not wrong, exactly, just not quite right.

Or maybe it’s not that at all. But it certainly feels like that.

I can’t exactly put my finger on it. It’s not that anyone has said anything in particular or done anything particularly unusual but it certainly feels like something has/will happen. Soon.

Perhaps it’s the crisis? Perhaps, finally, it is having an effect?

And, apart from A, outside of work, there seems a slight change. We were discussing it last night, over dinner with An. People seem more worried about the future. None of us have children and, so, it is different, I guess. The restaurants still seem quite full, though. As I rarely go shopping (except to the supermarket), I can’t really say about the high street.

Yes, I think if I had children, I may feel differently but, as I said to An, you can’t really do anything about it so don’t worry too much. After all, if the world collapses (economically), everyone (except the very rich, maybe) will be in the same boat (or sinking ship).

So, back where we were. It all feels different. A concentration on petty (or seemingly petty) things. A tit-for-tat thing going on between management and workers. New work seems to be coming our way but is it quickly enough?

Or, of course, it’s all in my imagination.

Books that should never have been written and films that should never have been made.

Posted on by
4

Of course, it’s all a matter of personal taste.

But, you know, there’s some things that just should never have happened.

There was a book I read once, a long time ago. It was about a teenage boy who ‘kidnapped’ his babysitter and everything just got a ‘bit out of hand’. I don’t remember the title. I do remember that I truly hated it. Not because it wasn’t well-written (although I can’t remember if it was or wasn’t) and not because the book was horrific or anything – although it was.

No, the problem was that the things depicted in the book were such that, if you had imagined them in the first place, in my opinion, you had problems and should see someone to get them fixed.

Recently there was something in the newspapers about Human Caterpillar 2 (which, from what I understand, has now been banned in the UK). So I found a copy of Human Caterpillar (the first version – which the protagonist watched in the second version). I’m afraid, not only could I not watch it all the way through, but I had to skip through it, using fast forward most of the time.

Not only was it boring and (to me, remember) utterly stupid and pointless but it was also the product of a very sick mind. I don’t know that I could have acted in it (although, on second thoughts, no one has offered me money to act – so maybe I would for the right incentive – after all, it wasn’t actually real, was it?) At the end of it all, it wasn’t a good film but the story did not need to be filmed at all. In fact, should not be filmed at all.

Anyway, having seen HC (the first version), even in FF mode, I’m certainly NOT going to be going out to find a copy of HC2.

And where is this going, you are (maybe) saying to yourself?

Well, over our holidays it’s been mentioned during conversations with others how much F likes going to cinema and how we never do. Apparently this is because I don’t understand Italian and so we don’t go. I pointed out that I have no problem going and, in fact, would enjoy the experience, particularly if I have looked the film up online first so have a basic understanding (and, maybe, have seen some clips in English).

F is a BIG fan of the director Almodovar and so it was that, on Saturday night last, we went to see this:

Now, I looked at the trailer (as above), I read what synopsis I could find (and because no one would give the plot away, finding the actual important bits was difficult – but I found them) and looked at the book it was based on (online, of course).

I knew it would be a ‘difficult’ film and not only because it would all be in Italian!

I sat through it all. I’d paid for it, so of course I did.

I tried to enjoy the “beauty” of the filming but I was struck, overall, by the same feelings as reading that book and watching that other film.

Why?

I mean ‘Why make it’?

What made him think that this was either believable or good? I wasn’t shocked (although maybe that was because I knew the story beforehand), nor frightened, nor, even, disgusted. I was more than disgusted. It wasn’t a horrible film because it was gory. It wasn’t even a horrible film because of the story, as such. Whereas, for most of the film I kind of understood what was going on – I mean I could follow the idea of the film, even if I didn’t think it was an amazing story, in the last few scenes the whole thing became preposterous. I’d patiently waited for the big twist to happen and then, when it did, I felt that I’d been cheated by an atrocious (and sick and unbelievable) plot.

I don’t dislike Almodovar but I left the cinema wondering why he had made it. Worse still (if it is true), F said that he had wanted to make this for years!

Put it this way, not only will I not be buying it on DVD, I won’t be watching it ever again.

Sending something by email – you might as well whisper in the wind.

Posted on by
Reply

Blogging in Italy is different. Or, rather, Italians blogging in Italy have to be more careful.

If the government have their way, they will have to be even more careful in future.

The government, here, having been trying, for some time now, to curb what they see as the excesses of the blogging world. Particularly when it comes to criticising or revealing embarrassing details about our beloved leader, Buzz Lightyear (Berlusconi).

Ideally, of course, he would like anything said about him to have passed through someone who can edit it properly. And, whilst with most of the media, this can be done easily (as he either owns the company or, as the Prime Minister, is responsible for it), the blogging world is a bit different.

I think (and I’m sure I’ll be corrected if I’m wrong), LA7 (a TV station) is also quite independent. I remember watching a debate on TV which was heavily critical of Buzz and he was obviously watching too because he phoned in to have a bit of a rant.

The trouble with bloggers is that they can say something and he doesn’t get the chance to phone in to say they are wrong. Instead, in a bill going through parliament, he wants to make it obligatory that the person who is defamed or whatever, gets the right to reply. If not, then the blogger is fined.

The Guardian’s take on it is here.

However, the really shocking thing is hidden away in the last paragraph and, to me, shows why Italy always seems to be a little bit behind the rest of the world when it comes to embracing the new world of technology fully.

Legally, “email has no validity”.

Let’s just put that again:

“email has no validity”

WHAT?

I remember when I first came here (and I’m talking 6 years ago – not 100), I was amused by the fact that, when someone sent an email, they would follow that up with a telephone call to ‘check that the person had received it’. How quaint and old-fashioned, I thought.

Mail, of the old kind, is fine. In fact, everything is done via mail. And, of course, if email has no validity, it has to be this way. But the fact that it is inadmissible in a court of law scares me quite a lot.

After all the ‘E’ of email stands for electronic. If mail is acceptable then an electronic version of it should be the same. Shouldn’t it? Yes, it damned well should!

However, since my email address is a .co.uk address and in the UK that IS admissible and Italy is in the EU and so is the UK, I wonder how that would be viewed?

Maybe I’ll find out one day.

Not now though. I’m still in a state of shock.

Cornish pasties or sausages?

Posted on by
Reply

It was like Cornish pasties. Or sausage rolls. They’d been overcooked. They had too much fat. You know? The ones with that fatty pastry – the sort you get from Greggs. The smell is at once disgusting and appetising – but, maybe not at half past eleven at night. Not when you didn’t cook them. Not when the smell fills your bedroom like someone had been cooking them in that room. Not when it wakes you up.

But let’s go back a bit.

F is in Germany. I took him to the airport on Monday morning. I don’t mind doing that but it does mean getting up a little earlier. Therefore, Monday, I was tired. I also had clients in at work.

After my lesson, I spoke to F by phone. Then I took the dogs out for their walk. It was 9.30. By 10, I was in bed. Since I had been so tired all day and evening, I thought sleep would come immediately. But the bastard ran away and wouldn’t come back.

Added to which, my hips hurt like hell. They normally hurt if I have been wearing particularly tight jeans. Now that I am the size of a small elephant, all my jeans are that little bit tighter.

So, what with the pain and the not wanting to sleep, I couldn’t. And my teeth hurt a bit because I have been clenching and grinding them again.

Eventually, I got up and took some nurofen. Eventually, I guess, I fell asleep.

The smell filled the bedroom. As it is, again, quite warm, all windows are open. The smell was coming from one of the other flats – also with it’s windows open. The smell seemed to get stronger. I got up. The smell was throughout the flat. I hated it. It won’t let me sleep but what can I do?

I walk around spraying airfreshner in every room. This almost masks the smell but not quite. I look out of my window – as if I can tell where the smell was coming from (which was a stupid idea); as if, having worked out where the smell was coming from, I could do anything about it (I wouldn’t).

I like living in a flat. I miss having a garden but am grateful for not having a garden and having to spend every weekend keeping it from becoming an unruly jungle. All things have good and bad points.

I hate that I am too close to people. I hate when I don’t like their cooking.

I don’t like this cooking.

I go back to bed, smelling the smell and hating it. I guess I must have dropped off to sleep again.

At 5.40 in the morning I could not smell it.

But, maybe, I was used to it?

Love it or leave it

Posted on by
4

I’m not sure what the film/Documentary will really be like but I do want to see it.

Italy – a place stacked full of contradictions.

It’s true – either love it and shut the fuck up or leave it and don’t be looking back.

Some of my students are learning English for the sole purpose of ‘getting out’. London’s (and New York’s) streets are, in their eyes, paved with gold. It’s almost as if they think these places are some sort of heaven.

To be honest, I have been having a bit of a beef with J, an American friend who is currently living in Bologna. She has issues with the promises made to her which have turned out to be a bit empty.

“It wouldn’t happen in the States”, she says.

“Nor in the UK”, I add. “Siamo in Italia”.

A thinks that my “Siamo in Italia” is some sort of judgement on Italy. Well, in one way he’s right. In another way (and the way it is intended) it’s not. My “Siamo in Italia” is a way of saying “shut the fuck up”.

There are many things ‘wrong’ with this country. However, in its defence, there are many things wrong with every country. Just different things, maybe. And some of the same things. It’s like when software programmers say ‘features’ instead of ‘bugs’. It’s life.

If the things wrong with this country were not these things then it wouldn’t be the country it was. With such beauty next to such ugliness; such ignorance next to such flair.

It’s a country of paradoxes. It is what it is. Moreover, it is a different ‘is’ for different people.

It’s a land of dreams and beauty and a land of ugliness and hopelessness – of contrasts and uniformity – but it’s up to you to make it what you want. The rules, after all, are made to be bent.

And, whilst talking with A, last night, I realised that now I’ve fulfilled my ambition to live here, I don’t need to do it any more. A bit like running a company (although that wasn’t really something I went looking for, in the first place).

Anyway, here’s the trailer for the documentary/film. Enjoy:

Fine, thanks. No fine, thanks. When is it right to fight the rules by disobeying them?

Posted on by
2

I’m being a bit crap at the moment.

Sorry.

I have started to update the links on the right. If yours hasn’t appeared yet, it is on it’s way, I promise. But, probably, not until next week.

In the meantime, let’s talk about rules and laws.

I mean, is it OK to break them? Sometimes, if these rules or laws had not been broken by a significant number of people, the law or rule would not have been changed or abolished. But which rules are OK to break and which not? Who should decide which are irrelevant rules and which are not?

There are things that are obvious (although sometimes less obvious here). For example, driving the wrong way down a one-way street. Here, I see bicycles regularly being ridden the wrong way. And the cyclists seem most put out that you, a car, driving the right way down the street seem to think that the cyclists are in the wrong.

I’ve even seen (as I may have mentioned before) cars driven the wrong way. OK so this was at 5.50 in the morning and there’s hardly any traffic – but ….. still …….

I’ve seen a car driven down the tram tracks (which must have done some damage to the car, I would think) where there is no road but it’s similar to a train track (without the sleepers).

I would guess there is some law against these things but the question is, is it OK to break this law?

Cyclists, here, regularly ride on the pavement. In the UK they would almost certainly be caught (I think) but here it’s almost the norm. Perhaps there is no rule or law against it.

Then there’s turning left or right at some traffic lights when there are signs that say you are prohibited from doing so. If I’m behind one of these people, I become ‘all Italian’ and blow my horn like crazy. But, if ‘everyone does it’, surely that almost makes the rule illogical and, almost, unenforceable? So, should that particular rule be relaxed or abolished?

Then there’s parking. They have gone a bit mad with the blue paint in my area – meaning that we should pay for parking (blue boxes are metered parking; yellow boxes are resident permit holders only).

Just after someone had made a ‘prohibited’ left turn and was roundly slagged off by the person who was driving me, it came to light that this person parks in ‘resident only’ areas because ‘I object to paying for parking’. And so, it made the rule regarding parking invalid. Apparently.

I tried to point out that the guy turning left was, in effect, only ignoring another of the rules regarding driving and parking and I was told that it was a different thing.

Ah, yes, of course it was.

The breaking of a rule prohibiting you from turning left is, quite obviously, something for which there should have been a policeman at that particular moment whereas, stopping a resident with a valid parking permit the chance to park outside their home is something that should be tolerated. Ha!

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not perfect. I’m sure I do things that aren’t ‘quite right’ but I can hardly criticise those who turn left when they shouldn’t and in the same breath say that, as I have decided parking in a resident-only parking bay without having a valid permit is perfectly OK, I am not guilty of the same type of fault.

I realise there are ‘degrees’ of breaking the rules and, maybe, illegal parking is not quite as bad as turning left when you shouldn’t. But I’m not sure that I actually have the right to say that it’s OK to do.

Rules are rules. And they are there to make life (society’s life as a whole) more comfortable. With regard to road use (or pavement use, for that matter) I have found that Italians are a tad selfish and I am coming to the opinion that, if you can’t beat them, join them. But it makes me uncomfortable in my English way.

Still, rules are rules and breaking of them can (and should?) have consequences. It’s just that there’s a mentality that says – if I don’t agree with the rule or it doesn’t suit my purpose, then it’s OK the break this one.

In the end, we came out of the restaurant and there was no fine on the car for parking in a place that was not supposed to be parked in.

What do you think? Can we break the rules that we don’t agree with? Or should we abide by all rules and laws?

Searching for ‘The Battle of Anghiari’ and your help is required.

Posted on by
1

There’s this nice American (but he can’t help where he was born, can he?) guy that I know, living in Milan who is a professional photographer.

He has a project and it’s exciting.

It goes something like this: Leonardo (of the Da Vinci fame) did this huge painting which was regarded as a bit special.

Then, just like changing the wallpaper, they got some guy (Giorgio Vasari) who was paid to paint over it except that, being a bit of a fan of Leo, he probably didn’t just paint over it but rather painted over a wall in front of it.

Another guy (Dr. Maurizio Seracini) reckons that the Leo’s painting will be behind it but cannot get to it.

Dave, the photographer, got involved and there may be a way to ‘see’ it using some special gamma camera.

Although this project has been funded by National Geographic to a great extent, they now need some funding for the camera itself.

And this is where you come in. Please visit the link below and if you like the idea, pledge some money. If not, you can still help by posting it on your blog or on Facebook or passing it onto friends. They have a lot of money to raise before October 10th and it would be so good if it can be done. Any help is gratefully received.

The Search for the Lost Da Vinci is here.

Please help!

Our July was stolen!

Posted on by
2

It’s all gone a little awry.

Let’s be honest, June and July were, as far as the weather was concerned, a bit of a let down. Where were the 40° highs? It was, mostly, warmish but really nothing like previous years.

August started off quite mediocre and then, around the 15th it seemed that July had come, finally. Like August had nicked July.

Milan is now hot. I mean to say that this morning, at just after 7, on my drive to work, the temperatures were reading 27°. It was also about that, this morning, around 6 when I took the dogs out. The forecast I use says it will get to 33° this afternoon but I think it will be hotter.

F is not really happy about it since he’s not really into heat and, now that our holidays are over, he wants it to cool down.

The dogs aren’t really happy either but they have plenty of fresh water.

OK, so even I have to admit, lying in bed at night with sweat pouring off me isn’t the most comfortable of things. However, it’s only going to last until about Thursday, so I’m sure I’ll manage.

Oh yes, I suppose I could get some air conditioning – but it would be for about a week a year so hardly worth it and, anyway, I couldn’t use it if F were there because, like all Italians, they are susceptible to ‘air’. This can produce many illnesses which include a sore throat and, in F’s case, a bad back. I was allowed to keep the fan on last night but only with it pointing away from us. When I left this morning he said he wasn’t feeling well. I guess there’ll be no fan tonight!

Knowing me, knowing you

Posted on by
Reply

He thinks he knows me now.

This is good and bad. It makes me laugh and makes me annoyed, depending on the situation.

We’re at the supermarket checkout. He complains that this line is too slow. I say, “Never mind, we’re on holiday”.

A few moments later, I start laughing. I had been watching the checkout man scanning the stuff through. For each item, he took several moments to find the barcode, then scan it, the read the label of the good, then place it carefully on the conveyor belt, before carefully selecting the next item to be scanned. He was very, very slow. As F said, the checkout girl on the next counter scanned four items to his one.

But, for some reason it just made me laugh and soon F was laughing too. As was some woman a couple of people behind us.

Later he said that he was right about the slowness and that I had, as usual, done my internal rolling of my eyes, and issued my usual conciliatory remark.

He was right about what I was thinking and doing after all, I’ve had over 20 years of practice with V and it’s automatic.

….. to be continued ….

Seagulls on our heads!

Posted on by
Reply

Well, here we are, almost at the end of the two weeks and two days of holiday.

Summer, this year, was tardy, arriving as it did on the 14th of August, more or less.

The holiday has been great and relaxing even if, for two of the nights in Umbria (including last night; our last night in Umbria), I hardly slept.

I write this on the beach on the Tuscan coast, the sky cloudless and the sun severe – but decidedly less hot than there, earlier today, yesterday and the last week.

But I wanted to tell you of a dream I had after I went to bed (again) about 10 to 4 this morning.
I’m sitting in my kitchen but it’s slightly different in that there’s an open fire, not needed yet, it being so warm.

M, my colleague is sitting besides me helping me with some technical thing. As I turn to him, I see a bloody big seagull on his head. I tell him he should get it off and realise I have one on my head too.

I get mine off my head or off his and it’s in front of me with a huge beak, open wide and lunging towards me.

I stick my arm down it’s throat. It can’t escape. I take it, like this, to the open window and let it dangle there, from my arm, it’s wings flapping.

I woke up.

I don’t understand it either!