Friday, September 30, 2005
More live music online

I'm busy as can be today, preparing to lead a discussion on the latest salvos in the big Hauser/Chomsky/Fitch vs. Pinker/Jackendoff debate on the difficult question of what aspects of language are unique to humans (and how to go about answering that question). But I thought I should briefly mention another interesting music link (thanks to largeheartedboy who is one of my favorite sources of music-related information out there): National Public Radio's music show All Songs Considered is available online and at the moment features a show by M Ward, one of those artists I can't hear enough of (also featured at the moment are the White Stripes and the Shins. Both of whom I like, but not like I like M Ward).
music
Friday, September 30, 2005 1:55:24 PM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)  #    Disclaimer  |  Comments [0]  | 
 Thursday, September 29, 2005
collapsing newbuildings

I work in a delightfully nasty building, institutional and decrepit in just about every way I can think of. Bare, pitted concrete, peeling paint, asbestos warnings everywhere, bare wires hanging from broken lighting fixtures, scarred walls which show markings of at least three generations of shelves since they were last painted, lifts (elevators) that go out of service on a weekly basis (at least), windows that won't open more than a few inches at the bottom (to stop us from jumping, I think), yet still won't shut out the sounds of a fairly busy London street. All that and offices slightly larger than veal pens. But today was notable even by the minimal standards I've come to expect here. As only one lift seemed to be working (and went past the ground floor, ignoring the call button) I walked up the stairs to the fourth floor where my office is (US equivalent = fifth floor). The doors to one of the lifts stood open, yet the lift was not there (it was on the fifth floor, stalled or something). So an open door to an elevator shaft, straight down to the basement, with nothing between me and the chasm but air. It was like there was a black hole in that elevator shaft sucking me towards it, but somehow I managed to avoid falling in. Don't worry, dear readers; at about noon someone put a garbage can in front of the open doors, and a little while later some strands of tape appeared across the opening.

But it gets even better. I decided to spend some quality time in one of the toilet cubicles (a vaguely-interesting journal article in hand). But sadly I was beaten to the punch by someone else, who zoomed into the "desirable" stall (there are two, one of which has a seat). About the same time all the lights went out (fortunately a window lets natural light in). It was therefore my good fortune that I didn't win the race into the stall, however, as a volley of expletives issued from the stall, followed very shortly by its occupant. Whose hair and shoulders didn't look as clean as they were when he went in. Yes, there was something wrong with the toilets one floor up, and a shower of rank water was pouring down into the just-vacated stall (and presumably, from there to the third floor, and on), and onto anyone who happened to be there. The stench was truly vile; it reminded me of the "swimming pool" that was installed in the basement of our home many years back when the sewers backed up after a flood (Yes, I played in it). Now all of the mens' toilets are out of service (the top one is broken, and the others are all under it). Fortunately if an emergency situation arises I have a couple of plants, a few coffee cups, and a window that opens a few inches, above a busy street.
Thursday, September 29, 2005 2:45:56 PM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)  #    Disclaimer  |  Comments [2]  | 
 Wednesday, September 28, 2005
There goes the neighborhood 2

Since I'm on a roll writing about crimes and criminals, I may as well keep it going, this time to talk about our recent home invasions. I would have thought the rear of our house was fairly secure, being surrounded on all sides by neighbors' back gardens, all of which are separated by (approx.) 5-foot wooden fences (and plenty of windows). But how wrong I was. We have an intruder who comes into the house for the purpose of petty thievery on a daily basis: several times a day in fact.

Fortunately this intruder is not human, but a feline friend of Zosi who lives next door. We've been introduced to him before (at least, we think he's a "him") but his name didn't stick, so we call him Orangey (unimaginatively referring to his color). He's an older cat, fixed and perhaps for that reason quite mellow in his behavior. He gets along quite well with Zosi (not THAT well, thanks to the fixing). But we leave the cat flap open during the day so Zosi can come and go (especially "go": the litter box is barely used these days. Sorry neighbors. I hope you keep the lid on the sandbox.). But this results in access for Orangey as well. Poor Orangey has no cat flap, so he has to stay out once he's been let into the great outdoors. When he gets hungry, well, I guess there aren't many vermin around, because he loves to sneak into our kitchen and snack on Zosi's food. He's quite aware of our routine (letting Zosi out when we first wake up [possibly because she has waken us up]), since he usually has had a snack before we come down for breakfast. He knows he's not supposed to be there (if he sees us, he runs quick-like out the flap and sits on the stairs awaiting his chance to come back in), so it's a serious dash and grab sort of situation. You can tell he's been at the food because he eats like a bulldozer, scattering food everywhere in his rush to eat before he's caught (Fortunately we are a dry-food only household). Sometimes he eats so quickly that he gets a little sick (a cat after my own heart). It's sort of like we have a second cat, but one we don't really have to take care of. Except for the stealing, that is (a scoop or two of food per day, and perhaps a catnip-filled mouse that is nowhere to be seen). I'll try and catch a picture of him in the act, but he's a sneaky little devil.
beasts
Wednesday, September 28, 2005 2:23:38 PM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)  #    Disclaimer  |  Comments [5]  | 
 Tuesday, September 27, 2005
There goes the neighborhood

As if yesterday's entry about the alleged comings and goings of alleged felon 50 Cent wasn't enough, my bike ride home gave me another cause for concern. I was riding home near north London's Clissold Park, when up a block or so ahead I saw a guy pop out from between some parked cars and knock another cyclist off his bike with a big stick. At first I thought I must be seeing things because it's a fairly busy street, and it was nowhere near dark. Then I thought it might be some sort of domestic dispute, but ruled this out fairly quickly as the attacker (and two others) then ignored the victim and went for his bike, trying to unfasten his briefcase from his bike rack. I'm not sure what I would have done had I been the only witness (perhaps shouted "HEY" in as deep and burly a voice as I could muster, which has been successful at dispersing groups of youths a couple of times in the past), but fortunately there were a couple of other cyclists who saw the same thing. We all stopped and ran them off empty-handed (thinking about it afterwards, I'm quite glad we didn't catch any of them), then sort of milled around waiting for the police to arrive (quite quick, thanks to active curtain-twitchers in the area) and the adrenaline to dissipate.

Fortunately the victim was not injured (other than some bruising) and the attackers didn't manage to get anything of value. But this is not at all a pleasant turn of events. I'm aware of other areas in north London where cyclists have been targeted in the past (Somers Town in particular), but these cases tend to be situations where gangs of youths are involved, rather than adults. These guys were all about 18 with buzzcuts and ill-fitting tracksuits. I'm pretty sure they're Polish, not just from their appearance (and the recent increase in the Polish population in the area), but also (and this is a surprise, coming from me) their linguistic characteristics. They were exchanging a few words as we approached, containing quite a variety of fricatives/affricates that are not at all commonly heard in English1 (which can be briefly and informally described as "lots of sounds like 'zh'"). The Wikipedia entry on the Polish language gives a more-detailed breakdown: consonants like voiced alveolo-palatal fricatives (as in "would you"), voiceless alveolo-palatal affricates (as in "what's your"), voiced alveolar affricates (as in "woods"), and many others. Anyway, my cursory knowledge of phonology (along with a few other factors) led me to conclude rather conclusively that there are some bad Polish apples within a mile or so of home.

1In case you're wondering, English fricatives are f, v, th as in "thin", th as in "there", s, z, sh as in "she", the sound of "s" in "measure" (this one is closest to the "Polish sound" at least to my ear), and "h" as in "ham".
bike | language
Tuesday, September 27, 2005 1:14:03 PM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)  #    Disclaimer  |  Comments [4]  | 
 Monday, September 26, 2005
27 pence in the neighborhood

The Dunce household has been taken rather off guard by recent sightings of a real live World Famous Celebrity in our neighborhood. According to the rumor mill, Famous Rap Superstar 50 Cent has been filming a new video just a mile or so away on north London's rapidly-gentrifying Green Lanes. But not just Green Lanes, as it turns out, but just a few minutes' walk from our house, at our local, in fact. One of the guys in charge has a blog on which he reported the news (taking a break from renovating another pub; hope that's going well):

"Apparently someone called "50 cent" was recording a video promo outside the hairdressers next door to the Oakdale tonight. There were lots of lighting people, cameramen, people with fluffy microphones on sticks, and hangers-on....

Not really what you expect in a quiet back street in north London on a Wednesday night... as far as I can tell, the main part of the shoot took place earlier on in the warehouses up the street, which are occupied by a video production company. They are responsible for the largest ever tab at the pub: about £300 on their manager's credit card, about 4' long when printed as a till receipt."

No mention of what they drank, but 50 Cent's lyrics give a good idea of his preferences which are not exactly the typical Oakdale order:

"You mix a lil' Cris with a little Dom Perignon.
And a lil' Hennessy, you know we 'finna carry on."

On one hand I'm quite excited about having celebrities in the neighborhood, but on the other hand Mr. Cent has himself quite a reputation. But I'm not sure his reputation suits the area, which seems like a rather odd place to be shooting a video. The hairdressers' shop is not especially notable; it looks neither gritty nor hip (at least to my eye which admittedly is not well-tuned for either), and I wouldn't have it in my video, that's for sure. The pub, well, I certainly enjoy stopping by for a pint or two (and perhaps a hand of Koi-koi [no I am not affiliated with the yakuza]). Some of his other lyrics (warning: plenty of questionable comment if you are sensitive to that) don't offer any real insight (and I didn't see any new bullet holes in the Oakdale), so it remains a mystery. Unfortunately this means that I'll have to start watching 50 Cent's videos in order to spot nearby landmarks. If I manage to find it, I'm afraid I will be unable to stop myself from re-enacting scenes from the video.

By the way, readers who are curious about the term "finna" (quoted above from 50 Cent's song "Disco Inferno") will be pleased to know that the Language Log contains a brief discussion of this term and its use (here): a contraction of "fixing to" akin to "gonna" for "going to".
music
Monday, September 26, 2005 2:39:09 PM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)  #    Disclaimer  |  Comments [3]  | 
 Friday, September 23, 2005
Sights of east London
It's time for another photo post, this time a few images loosely connected by the east London theme. In a previous entry I mentioned an impressive Hindu temple in the middle of a very ordinary neighborhood. As promised, here is a picture of the top of the London Sri Murugan temple (whose website is now working!), which has been built from granite and marble (carved in India, then brought to East Ham):


The lower part of the building is still covered in scaffolding, so it's still not quite complete. This picture was taken from just across the street, so it's not quite as gigantically impressive as the Shri Swaminarayan Mandir. But seeing it unexpectedly in the middle of such an ordinary neighborhood was a very pleasant surprise.

The rest of the photos come from a bike ride a few weeks back, in which I wandered around the River Lea valley (future site of the 2012 Olympics, and thus due for some serious regeneration work). Here is a view of the path, looking north. Although cycling is permitted, the conditions are not ideal as the path is quite narrow, popular with cyclists and walkers, and the edge of the path is the bank of the river (I am paranoid about falling or being knocked into the water). On the right you can see some of the many narrowboats that occupy this section of the river (as a hoarder, I can't imagine living in such a small space).


In the next picture I'm standing on a high(ish) footbridge across the river looking south. To my left is the Springfield Marina, and to the right is Springfield Park (I've never stopped there, but maybe I should ["built on the grounds of three 19th century houses (one of which still stands and has a rather nice café). The old glasshouses belonging to the buildings have since been turned into a tropical conservatory and are home to a pond and ornamental carp. All in all, a good place to visit on a sunny morning"]).The path alongside the river is just as narrow as before.


The east side of the Lea Valley at this point is full of water treatment facilities which lie just beyond the railroad crossing pictured here. The underpass is exactly five feet high (at the highest point), and just wide enough for two crouching cyclists to pass each other without contact if neither of them are wobbling. The pavement is also in rather poor condition here; just after I took this photo (before I got back on the bike) I was crashed into from behind by a tumbling jogger who tripped over a hole in the pavement and fell down.


After the underpass you can continue straight (past the water treatment plant, reservoirs and so on) and back into built-up areas (Walthamstow), or turn right and enter the marshland paths. As usual I did the latter, following the power lines through an otherwise natural landscape, at least if you select your location carefully and keep your eyes straight ahead, as in the picture here:


Eventually I reached the entrance to the Eastway Cycle Centre, a small island in the middle of a mess of industrial/road/rail landscape. A good impression of the area comes from this frustrated comment on the website of the British Human Power Club: "Access is actually from Quarter Mile Lane, which can be found on the southern side of Ruckholt Road, the A106. Fairly close to the New Spitalfield Market, if that's any help. More detailed directions are a bit pointless due to the perpetual construction of the M11 Link Road; the situation on the ground doesn't look much like any map, and changes quite frequently.". It currently includes a 1-mile road racing circuit as well as a serious mountain bike/cyclocross circuit. The site will apparently be redeveloped for the Olympics, to include a velodrome but to the possible expense of the off-road circuit (Eastway mountain biking still at risk from Olympic plans; a full set of considerations for a successful cycling facility, compiled by the Eastway Users Group can be found here). The picture below (looking south) shows one entry to the off-road circuit; the parking lot is to the left (it was full of serious roadies warming up for some sort of race event). I'm standing on an overpass which seems to serve only the cycle circuit, and the towers of the City of London can be seen in the distance:


My ride back took a less-pleasant turn down a highly-industrialized road (albeit with a segregated bike lane), past the construction site for a new ASDA (part of the Wal-Mart family) and many other construction sites. I breathed lots of dust and didn't feel like stopping for any pictures. Until part of the cycle path branched off towards another footbridge. It's a highly overgrown and rather secluded area, with a lot of ripe blackberries (at least when I went there). Here's a picture looking back south at the path, from the top of the footbridge. Somewhere in the underbrush to my left is my lens cap (Whoops! At least it was a cheapo replacement for the one I previously lost). Just across the bridge is a "pitch & putt" golf course; the bike path goes right through the middle of it, semi-protected by giant fences. But I got out of there fast, all I could think of was "target practice".
bike | travel
Friday, September 23, 2005 11:10:46 AM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)  #    Disclaimer  |  Comments [5]  | 
 Thursday, September 22, 2005
Live music online

As a music obsessive I spend an awful lot of time listening to music at work (pretty much continuously, except when I'm discussing things with other people, or dealing with non-musical audio files). My preferences tend to change from week to week, but have usually included a mix of internet radio (often from the "Americana", "Alt-country" or bluegrass genres) and legally-recorded and legally-downloaded live performances by artists I am particularly fond of. Lately I've been taking advantage of a large-scale repository of free, legally-downloadable music, courtesy of archive.org.

I found my way to archive.org through its connections with etree, a group formed with the aim of sharing high-quality concert recordings of artists who permit the free distribution of their live music. From their "About" page,

"Etree.org owns nothing. It is not a corporation and there certainly are no corporate offices. All work is volunteer, and all servers are independently owned and operated. The common thread is a belief among its members that music which bands permit to be traded, should be freely traded.

Not all music is available through etree.org. This biggest difference between etree.org and other online music sites is that Etree.org deals exclusively with legally tradeable music. We only deal with live recordings by artists that allow taping and/or free trading of their performances. The list of TradeFriendly bands grows daily."

The etree community at that time consisted of a lot of individuals, independently running their own public FTP servers and posting "contents" announcements on a mailing list (I ran one myself for quite some time, and it's still around although no longer open 24/7). Things are somewhat different now that archive.org exists, as it provides a central repository ("digital library", if you like) of numerous artists who allow this sort of taping and trading of their music. This solves the two main problems of the independent server operator: storage space and bandwidth usage, as both are provided for this specific purpose (rather than "liberated" as was quite often the case, for example the classic Undernet (RIP, 1999-2002) whose "death announcement" (now sadly unavailable online, it seems) was an excellent tale of cat and mouse before its eventual shutdown).

The etree collection can be found here, and features a number of my currently favorite artists (most of whom are also available in MP3 format for easy online streaming), such as the Drive-By Truckers (138 live shows), Danny Barnes (30 shows, plus Bad Livers which adds 14 more), and who can forget the Grateful Dead for whom an astounding 2937 different recordings are available (by careful splicing, you could probably create a version of Drums > Space > Drums that would last a whole lifetime!!). I've been listening to a lot of artists I'm not especially familiar with (although some quality control is necessary; even though a band allows their live material to be recorded and shared, it may not deserve such treatment).

And it's not just the Etree collection that's available on archive.org. There's a nice collection of digitized 78rpm records (I'm currently listening to a Benny Bell collection [all "double-entendre party records" like "Noses Run In My Family", mostly from the 1940s]), and open source audio as well, here (open to the community for the contribution of any type of audio). There are some really interesting old-timey recordings from the 20s and 30s under the "Country" and "Blues" classifications; I haven't explored this collection much further.


This last comment doesn't have anything to do with music, but I see that my local bike shop has Banana Guards on clearance. Although I've never worried before about the possibility of crushed bananas, now all I can do is worry. Fortunately I am taking the bike in for service tomorrow morning, perhaps I'll come back with a collection of banana protectors.
music
Thursday, September 22, 2005 11:31:19 AM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)  #    Disclaimer  |  Comments [0]  | 
 Wednesday, September 21, 2005
Sir Cliff's prodigious output to end?

Once-popular British music star Cliff Richard may be unknown in the US, but has been a huge star in the UK since the beginning of his career in the 1950s. According to the Wikipedia entry, he ...

Has sold more singles in the UK than any other artist (2nd place: the Beatles; 3rd place: Elvis);

Has had 14 #1 singles in the UK; only Elvis and the Beatles had more;

Is the only artist to have a #1 UK single in every decade since the inception of the UK singles charts (1952), with the exception of the 2000s which is not over;

Has been knighted.

But he's had enough, as this Guardian article explains (based on an interview Sir Cliff gave to the Daily Mail). His records aren't being played on the radio any more, and he blames an unofficial boycott:

"I just don't have the time to waste making a record that no one will play," he told the Daily Mail. "As a musician you make a record for the radio so that the public can hear it, but my songs don't get played. It's not that DJs don't like them, it's that the stations have a policy that says, 'We don't play him'." By way of a concession, he added: "I will be playing concerts until the day I die because I love the atmosphere - but I'll never make another record."

At first I scoffed at the notion of an unofficial boycott which sounds a lot like "sour grapes" to me. A situation like "The radio stations aren't playing my records any more, so I'll stop making them." seems entirely logical; why keep at it if they are no longer in demand? As it turns out, reading the rest of the article, it sounds like there have been "boycotts" in the past:

Sir Cliff's status as a radio star began to wane in 1998 when Chris Evans - then the breakfast show host on Virgin Radio - vowed he would never again play one of his records. Other stations took up the cause to such an extent that the DJ Tony Blackburn was suspended from his job on Classic Gold for breaking the ban.

Now, seven years later, instead of an official boycott, it's become unofficial? Perhaps this is driven by slipping popularity. This scarily-complete site documenting Cliff Richard's chart performance shows his sad performance on the charts since 2000:
"Over The Rainbow/Wonderful World" reached #11 in December 2001; "Let Me Be The One" only made it to #29 in spring 2002; another shot at Christmas #1, "Santa's List" got to #5 in December 2003. In 2004 he charted twice, with "Somethin' Is Goin' On" (#9 in October) and yet another Christmas #1 attempt "I Cannot Give You My Love" (#13). Most recently "What Car" got to #12 in May, but disappeared quickly thereafter. The site commentary tries to put a positive spin on it, but it sounds a little forced:

Cliff's single of Over the rainbow is the 'biggest' hit version of the song in the British chart. Other versions and chart positions: Matchbox (No.15), Sam Harris (No.67) and Eva Cassidy (No.42)...

...Santa's List was Cliff's 125th hit single, his 65th Top 10 hit single and is his biggest hit in the 2000's to date. It has the distinction of being the ONLY Cliff single to peak at No.5 in the official U.K. singles chart!

At least die-hard fans can count on continuing to see him at concerts, and Cliff completists will finally be able to take a break.
music
Wednesday, September 21, 2005 11:59:09 AM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)  #    Disclaimer  |  Comments [0]  | 
 Monday, September 19, 2005
The Marys of East Ham

This weekend we took in a couple of sights on the annual Open House London. Mrs. Dunce has special interest in medieval churches, so what better opportunity to visit a St. Mary or two? Both in East Ham which is an area neither of us had visited before. We started at St. Mary the Virgin in Little Ilford, a small 12th century chapel (pictured here, 1984 archaeological report here). Most interesting to me was the Lethieullier chapel (sometime between 1724 and 1737), built above the family's vault and (it seemed) nearly half the size of the church itself. The Lethieulliers were wealthy Huguenots who owned the nearby manor of Aldersbrook and the chapel has a number of family memorials (one Mrs. Lethieullier met her end in a tragic coach crash, landing on her head). But not for their faithful servant who is buried in the churchyard (you wouldn't want the HELP buried in the FAMILY CRYPT!!). Someone has taken the time to document the headstone inscriptions in the churchyard, and in case you wonder what kind of plants can be found in the churchyard, here you are.

Just in the area of St. Mary the Virgin is an impressive Hindu temple, in the process of being built (or renovated). Further investigation has revealed it to be the London Shri (Sri?) Murugan temple which just opened at the end of May. When I remember to bring my photos with me I'll post a picture as it was quite impressive and unexpected (and a cursory Web search or three didn't find anything either).

We then caught a bus, heading south toward the Beckton Alp Dry Ski Slope [EDIT: apparently it is no longer dry], "a totem signifying the pervasive regulatory influence of Panopticism in contemporary urban culture" (as Iain Sinclair put it, not entirely to everyone's satisfaction). Or as Billy Bragg puts it, "where the upwardly mobile residents of East Ham can practice their skiing on the artificial ski slopes. When I was a child this commanding height was the blackened slag heap of what was once the biggest gasworks in the world. Now grassed over and with a ski lift on top it has become the Cockney Klosters.". In any event, we didn't quite reach the Alp, stopping just the other side of the A13 at St. Mary Magdalene, the oldest Norman church in London that is still in regular use (according to their Web site, anyway). Mrs. Dunce has special interest in seeing bits of medieval paint on church walls, and there were some nice restored bits of decorative paint with a flower motif, painted by Cistercian monks before they headed oop north to do some similar painting in Durham. There are some very interesting bits, like an anchorite's cell and the Neville family monument ("Unfortunately the smallest child has been stolen"). The church's web site offers a "virtual tour" that reminds me a lot of text adventures of the early 1980s: "Now you are in the grounds you can look around the outside, go into the church, or explore the nature reserve. If you come on a Sunday morning or Wednesday evening you could attend a service. You would be very welcome".

:ATTEND SERVICE
...COME BACK ON A SUNDAY MORNING OR WEDNESDAY EVENING.
...
:WAIT
...TIME PASSES
...
:ATTEND SERVICE
...COME BACK ON A SUNDAY MORNING OR WEDNESDAY EVENING.
:WAIT
...TIME PASSES
...
:ATTEND SERVICE
...COME BACK ON A SUNDAY MORNING OR WEDNESDAY EVENING.
...
:INVENTORY
...YOU HAVE
...A LIGHT BULB
...A SCRAP OF PAPER
...A CORKSCREW
...A FIVE-POUND NOTE
...
:EXAMINE SCRAP
...?SYNTAX ERROR?
...
:LOOK SCRAP
...THE SCRAP OF PAPER READS,
..."STAY INDOORS AT NIGHT".
...
:LOOK
...NOW YOU ARE IN THE GROUNDS YOU CAN LOOK AROUND THE OUTSIDE, GO INTO THE CHURCH, OR EXPLORE THE NATURE RESERVE. IF YOU COME ON A SUNDAY MORNING OR WEDNESDAY EVENING YOU COULD ATTEND A SERVICE. YOU WOULD BE VERY WELCOME.
...
:EXPLORE NATURE RESERVE
...YOU WALK INTO A TANGLED THICKET OF TREES.
...YOU ARE IN FELLOWS' WOOD.
...YOU CAN GO NORTHEAST (THE SHORT CUT), EAST (WOODCHIP PATH), WEST (CHURCH CLEARING).
...IT IS GETTING DARK.
...
:GO EAST
...YOU FOLLOW THE WOODCHIP PATH AND COME TO A SMALL CLEARING.
...THERE IS A TREE HERE.
...THE PATH CONTINUES TO THE NORTHEAST, OR TO THE WEST.
...IT IS GETTING DARKER.
...
:GO NORTHEAST
...YOU FOLLOW THE WOODCHIP PATH AND COME TO THE CORNER OF THE NATURE RESERVE.
...THERE IS A SMALL BUILDING HERE.
...A GATE MARKED "EMERGENCY VEHICLE ACCESS" IS TO THE NORTH.
...A PATH GOES TO THE WEST, ANOTHER PATH TO THE SOUTH, A WOODCHIP PATH LEADS SOUTHWEST.
...IT IS COMPLETELY DARK NOW.
...
:OPEN GATE
...THE GATE IS LOCKED.
...IT IS COMPLETELY DARK NOW.
...YOU HEAR THE APPROACH OF FERAL TEEN-AGERS.
...
:ENTER BUILDING.
...THE DOOR IS LOCKED.
...IT IS COMPLETELY DARK NOW.
...THE FERAL TEEN-AGERS ARE VERY NEAR.
...
:GO WEST
...YOUR PATH IS BLOCKED BY SNEERING YOBS.
...ONE OF THEM FLICKS A CIGARETTE INTO THE UNDERBRUSH AS THEY APPROACH YOU.
...BEFORE YOUR FLESH IS TORN FROM YOUR BODY, YOUR LAST THOUGHT IS...
...I SHOULD HAVE GONE INDOORS.


PLAY AGAIN (Y/N)?
:QUIT
PLAY AGAIN (Y/N)?
:N
travel
Monday, September 19, 2005 1:25:51 PM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)  #    Disclaimer  |  Comments [2]  | 
 Friday, September 16, 2005
Spammy, spammy, spammy

A curious thing has been happening in the world of spam and its intersection with my blog. I've gone through the standard blog growing pains of dealing with comment spam a while ago (also trackback spam, but this has been only a very minor problem thanks to the dasblog upgrade). For those few who don't know, comment spam is when someone places an advertising comment on a blog (intending to have it displayed to other readers who read the comments and possibly follow their links, also possibly trying to gain better listings from search engines). I suddenly started getting a lot of comment spam, which was easily stopped by requiring commenters to recognize and type in distorted letters (captcha) in order to make a comment. Only one spammer has made it through to leave comment spam since then (related to construction services in Philadelphia, and entered [by hand I assume] on this comment which I suppose is loosely related).

The real problem (and it's only a problem behind the scenes) is referral spam. As is the case for most blogs, mine keeps details of who is visiting my site (what links they clicked to get here, what sort of browser they are using, when comments were added, etc.). Referral spam abuses this system, making it look like visitors have come to a blog from a commercial site (at least for my site, almost entirely related to poker and/or diet pills, the names of which I have intentionally included in this post without munging them in order to see whether this post attracts undue attention). Some blogs (like this one for example [it hasn't been updated in a while, and has various other problems to boot]) display an automatically-generated list of the top referrers, which is probably why this sort of referral spam has caught on (I doubt Mr. Max [former contestant on the UK version of the reality TV program "The Apprentice" {Alan Sugar instead of Donald Trump?!?}] is actually getting loads of referrals related to phentermine, norwegion cruises [sic], ringtone, cheap calls, cialis, jackpots, virtual slots, etc.). But on my blog, referrals are not displayed anywhere but to me (when I look at the logs). In fact, the updated version of dasBlog goes some ways to prevent referral spam. But my logs remain full of blocked referrals (something like 30 today so far, nearly all blocked because of texas-holdem, free-online-poker and the like, although once in a while a referral spam will make it past the block. But it doesn't matter because I don't display referrers anywhere). Like buses they come all at once: a single spam site "refers" to one of my entries, then quick as a wink they troll through various other entries with their false referrals (I really appreciate real referrals, by the way, like this one). But it seems like almost always the same entry is the one they start with: Cowes to Lymington and back again. How and why they started with this entry, I have no idea. Other entries of mine are far more popular in gaining visitors who get here through search engines. This is my only entry about sailing (unless I mentioned the 1980 Olympics in one of my Tallinn posts), perhaps spammers are looking for sailors? Perhaps I'll write an entry about boxers and see whether spammers are following the lead of Nina Hamnett.
meta
Friday, September 16, 2005 9:37:21 AM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)  #    Disclaimer  |  Comments [0]  | 
 Wednesday, September 14, 2005
Classic scam letters

I haven't made any progress on yesterday's etymology questions but instead have come across some interesting letters which have been scanned and posted online. From 1914, one of the letters begins with a very familiar tone to those of us who have been reading massive heaps of scam letters rather than simply discarding them unread (as any sensible person would do).

Dear Sir,
Although I know you only from good references of your honesty, my sad situation compels me to reveal to you an important affair in which you can procure a modest fortune, saving at the same time that of my darling daughter.

Before being imprisoned here, I was established as a Banker in Russia as you will see by the enclosed article about me of many English newspapers which have published my arrest in London. I beseech you to help me to obtain a sum of 480.000 dollars I have in America and to come here to raise the seizure of my baggage, paying to the Registrar of the Court the expenses of my trial, and recover my portmanteau containing a secret pocket where I have hidden the document indispensable to recover the said sum. As a reward, I will give up to you the third part, viz. 160.000 dollars. I cannot receive your answer in the prison, but you must send a cablegram to a person of my confidence who will deliver it to me.

Awaiting your cable, to instruct you in all my secret. I am Sir, ....

Here is a scan of the original letter, and just like modern scam emails which are recycled and reused, here is a variant of the same letter. More details are presented at samizdat.com (including scans of faked newspaper articles, reports from others who have found similar letters, analysis of the writing) and makes quite a good read. Lots of the same techniques are being used in the so-called 419 scam, some perpetrators of which are apparently reverting to targeting their victims by postal mail once again. If you get a scam letter in the post (rather than by fax or email), I'd love to see a copy!
Wednesday, September 14, 2005 12:36:20 PM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)  #    Disclaimer  |  Comments [0]  | 
 Tuesday, September 13, 2005
Linguistically kicked to the curb

On my recent trip to Belgium I met up with my cousin, a Kentucky Colonel biding his time in the Low Countries until the revolution takes place. Among the bits of witty banter he set me a pair of etymological challenges, which I took up, confident in my ability to provide quick and easy answers for both. Yet instead I must report only disappointment at this stage as I have been so far completely unable to find even speculative answers for either one. I'm continuing for now to keep my eyes open, but here are the puzzling terms (their relative obscurity being a testament to the Colonel's character, I am certain):

1. ingham. From the horse's mouth, "The term for the rope that is used to support the tympan and frisket when printing with common wood presses or Washington-style presses.", and pictured here (Colonel points out 'the "ingham" is pictured on the left and is partly obscured by the typman (lower part) and frisket (upper part)'). For readers unfamiliar with traditional printing methods, I should point out that a frisket is " A thin iron frame hinged to the tympan, having tapes or paper strips stretched across it, for keeping the sheet in position while printing." (OED, from French "frisquette", origin unknown). The tympan of course is "An appliance in a printing-press, interposed between the platen or impression-cylinder and the sheet to be printed, in order to soften and equalize the pressure; in a hand press consisting of two frames (outer and inner tympan) with sheets of parchment or strong linen stretched upon them, and inclosing a packing either of blanket, rubber, or other soft substance, or sheets of paper, cardboard, cloth, or other harder material, according to the nature of the work to be printed." (OED again, from the Latin "tympanum", drum, wheel for raising weights, etc.). Ingham, however, does not appear in the OED (nor any of the other dictionaries I consulted). It's a relatively common surname, a place in Michigan, even the name of a printing company (but I suspect the company name postdates the term). There was a family of Inghams involved in the printing business after the Civil War (Sullivan County, PA), but no mention of any devices bearing their names. Not knowing much about the workings of such presses, I am led to wonder when the rope ("Ingham") may have come into use. But without answers at this moment. Perhaps consulting some dead trees about the development of printing presses might reveal the answer (or at least give some clues) but that will have to wait until I'm in the library for some legitimate reason.

2. Maut (mott? maught? mought? mawt? møt?). Spelled phonetically, this was a term of insult, directed at the Colonel at a young age. According to his post-hoc analysis, the term depicts a position on the scale of nerdhood somewhere below a "spaz", i.e., extreme social ineptitude, grossness in physical appearance and manner, and certain unsuitability for dating purposes. I had never heard this term, and thought perhaps it could be of local origin (South Bend, IN or surrounding areas). Perhaps coming from one of the dominant language groups in the area (Polish? German? [No, "maut" means "duty" in German]. Other North European?). Looking up various spellings (coupled with other terms like nerd, geek, spaz) didn't give any real insight (I saw the Scrabble 4-letter-word list quite a few times, but nothing useful). I was severely hampered by my ignorance of the correct spelling of this term, but learned a few interesting things. Did you know that the MAUT Scholarship (McGill Association of University Teachers) was established in memory of 14 women murdered at the Ecole Polytechnic in December 1989 because they were women, and is intended to encourage women to enter the Faculty of Engineering? The term "motley" and its connection to fools also occurred to me ("motley" is listed by the OED as an obsolete term used for fools), but I'm not aware of any such terms derived from "motley" out there. Perhaps it's a reference to Mott the Hoople? The image sort of fits:


Anyway, I am left without a good answer to this one too. Suggestions or ideas most welcome.
language
Tuesday, September 13, 2005 11:56:08 AM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)  #    Disclaimer  |  Comments [4]  | 
 Monday, September 12, 2005
Visiting Tallinn 3

Well, after a long delay it's time for me to walk back down memory lane and fill in the last section of my description of our trip to Tallinn. On the third day we started reasonably early, as we needed to catch a local bus out to the Open Air Museum. None of our touristy materials had a transport map, but we knew the correct bus number, and in a triumph of information gathering skills, I found a bus map in the telephone book in our room. I didn't tear out the page (I'm always irritated when I find missing pages in hotel phone books, after all you never know when a future guest may have an urgent need for an escort, liquor and/or pornography [or a restaurant, rental car or other hotel listings]), but instead committed the bus map to memory. Or something like memory (I did not bother showing the map to Mrs. Dunce as I was supremely confident -- can you see where this is going?). The #21 bus leaves from somewhere right near the very-underused train station, although it's a little unclear from the map whether its terminus is at the train station proper, or "just a little further down" (As it turns out, it was the former). We made a quick pass by (many of) the bus stops at the station and didn't see any indication of #21, so I advised a walk in the direction I (vaguely) remembered from the map. We walked a while in the hot sun. Walked some more, past a couple of bus stops that did clearly not serve the #21, but following the vague path the bus should take. Of course we were walking up a one-way street upon which our desired bus could only possibly be heading back towards the train station, but I was sure we'd eventually catch up with whichever road went in the right direction. On the way we saw some very nice examples of ramshackle buildings collapsing under their own weight, lots of locals going about their daily business, and definitely no other tourists or business establishments aimed at tourists. After, oh, call it between 30 and 45 minutes, we finally found a suitable bus stop (yes, indeed the two one-way streets eventually made their way into a single two-way street) and joined the masses on the bus heading towards the open air museum.

As it turned out nearly everyone was headed either (a) to the zoo, or (b) to a big shopping mall with carnival rides in the parking lot. You guess which one was more popular. We got off the bus with an older American couple (although we were not "with" them as no words were ever exchanged between us) and headed into the Open Air Museum. It's a large collection of historic buildings moved from different parts of Estonia (ranging from 18th-20th centuries), clustered into a dozen or so different homesteads which illustrated life in the different regions. It was quite empty, obviously more of a weekend destination, but there were a few people hanging around in traditional costume at some of the homesteads. I was pleased that they didn't approach us, I am not entirely comfortable with costumed interpreters even when my vocabulary has more than a solitary word ("please" = "palun"). It seems they were mainly there to provide a small amount of security for those buildings that were open to visitors (mind your head going through the doors, even Mrs. Dunce had to duck. I guess the winters are really brutal, especially in the Estonian islands, so doors and windows were really, really small). It was a really nice afternoon visit, and the bus journey home was quite uneventful as we got on at the very same bus stop. It headed further out, past some very large, newly-built homes until it finally turned around, taking on a massive crowd of locals headed for the mall.



Estonian farmhouses, photo by Mrs Dunce

We wandered around town a little more, seeing some more of the sights, then took a short rest before dinner, which was at the Russian restaurant Troika. Featuring various sorts of live music, occasional dancing girls, and set in the basement of another nice merchant hall on the town square (we may not have gone far off the beaten track, but everywhere we went was quite good). We started with a "grandmother's special" (pickles, honey and sour cream) along with some vodka (but not much, as our tastes tend to run [fast] in the opposite direction from vodka shots), and I also had a starter of herring done the usual way (with eggs, onion, sour cream, dill.... there may have also been potatoes involved). Mrs. Dunce had a shockingly huge blini (Boyar's blini, no less) which was well beyond anything we'd seen before bearing the same name. As for the mains, I had some sort of seafood (salmon perhaps?) but the memorable bit was Mrs. Dunce's Vladivostok catfish, breaded and fried as catfish is meant to be eaten.

After dinner we wandered back to the Hele Hunt for a leisurely pint or two. Or such was our plan, but we found ourselves seated across from two young Irish lads on a whirlwind tour of Scandinavia and the Baltics, and found ourselves in for quite an evening of conversation and a few more drinks than we had planned (it was near 3am when we finally left). As in our previous visit the pub never filled up (by British standards of vertical drinking, anyway), although there was one particularly noxious group of British men hanging around the bar in the company of a local gentleman who was obviously their guide to the city. Mrs. Dunce overheard some classy advice, which I pass on to any readers for whom this information might be useful: "Go with the Estonian girls, because the Russian girls will charge you an extra hundred." Are the Estonian girls (compared to the Russian girls) really so ignorant of the capitalist system that they fail to charge what the market will bear? Or are the Russian girls that much better at whatever it is that they do? Or is it a supply/demand thing, Russian girls being exotic and unobtainable while Estonian girls are a dime a dozen? Or more likely, RUSSIA=BAD, ESTONIA=GOOD, and the guy was just doing his part for independence.

And then it was a stagger to bed and a long lie-in (we didn't even partake in the free breakfast, that's how tired we were). Lunchtime came quickly (after a buzz through the Town Hall) and we splashed out on sushi. Suprisingly it was really good (even with a few strange digressions from the familiar... blue cheese & creme fraiche roll, anyone?) and while we gobbled the last few shreds of pickled ginger, the skies opened, and buckets upon buckets of water poured down on the crowds of tourists (the tourist population seemed to [at least] double every day, and this was Friday). Fortunately we are in training to become English so were equipped with umbrellas. We still got drenched from the waist down, but made our way to the Museum of Occupation. This was a very interesting concept for a museum: built with a central theme around a fairly recent period in history (starting about 1940 and going until independence in 1991). As the museum's site points out, it deals with a period about which we have incomplete information - an epoch characterised by totalitarian power and mass repression - and there is a plan to create a memorial complex, to remember those who did not return to their homeland. As such the physical exhibits are fairly limited: assorted physical objects, organized by date, which illustrate important facets of life but specifically pertaining to the occupation, first by the Nazis and then by the Soviet Union (it was very interesting to see some parts of this from the perspective "The Nazis weren't so bad"). Each display from a particular period, however, featured a documentary of the events of that time, shown on a screen at the top of the display case. I would have liked to watch them all (I still could, through the film clips linked here, at least if their server ever goes faster than 4KB/sec), but as each of the seven lasted about 25-30 minutes, and the screens were set in a position which caused a lot of painful neck-craning, I think we only lasted through the first four. It was really interesting to see the Soviet period documented in this manner from the inside.

Our last dinner in town was at an Estonian restaurant outside the old town, but I'm sorry to say I don't remember many of the details (perhaps because it had its unmemorable aspects, perhaps because we were approaching exhaustion at the end of the trip, perhaps because so much time has passed since we were actually there). It was a large, multi-roomed place, but very empty. Food came quickly and was dispatched just as quickly. As I recall it was quite tasty, but at the moment all I remember is the ambience which wasn't exactly thrilling. And then it was off to bed (and our last dose of German TV). Come morning we had just enough time for breakfast, then a super-cheap cab ride to the airport (70EEK, barely half of what we paid for our cab ride in the other direction). And home sweet home.
travel
Monday, September 12, 2005 3:10:44 PM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)  #    Disclaimer  |  Comments [1]  | 
 Friday, September 09, 2005
It's not just the promises that are broken

I guess I should not have been so clear about our travel plans, as an overzealous blog reader took advantage of the inside information that we would be away for a certain designated period, and took the opportunity for a quick unguided tour of our house. OK maybe it was not a blog reader, but in a very unpleasant turn of events our house was broken into while we were in Belgium. A friend of ours is currently staying in the spare room (don't worry, the Landlord is fully aware of our propensity to take in Lodgers, first the cat and now a human), so she was there to see the carnage first-hand.

Note: italicized sections have now been edited to disguise our "most valuable" items.

It seems that under cover of darkness, someone took a crowbar to one of the front windows, jerking it upward hard enough to break the lock. He went straight upstairs (right past the Mona Lisa/hyperbaric chamber/gold-plated easy chair) and emptied the contents of our bedside tables and Mrs. Dunce's jewelry box in search of valuables. The most attractive items (Betamax, "Get Out of Jail Card, Compliments of Michael Dukakis", assorted baubles) were placed on the bed, and the crook apparently found the most interesting item to be our LCD monitor, as he picked it up and carried it into The Lodger's room. Where, unfortunately for the Lodger, he found a more desirable item: her laptop. So he left the monitor on her bed (I guess "bed" is a staging area) and high-tailed it out, laptop in hand (or case, as he took the case with him too. But not the shoulder strap [????]). Fortunately the entire contents of the laptop had been backed up very recently, but unfortunately her laptop is now gone, and only the cat saw anything (and she's not talking).

Lodger's Boy was first on the scene and found that the intruder had put the chain on the door (I guess to give advance warning if someone came home). He came through the (open) window and saw immediately that there had been a break-in. The police were called and then us (3am Belgium time). We thought of various items that could have been missing (our collection of fine wines, medieval paintings, my diamond dentures, mink stoles, ruby slippers and other fancy items of various kinds; it's amazing how many possibly-valuable things you can think of while lying awake in a hotel bed at 4am, knowing that your home has just been burgled), but as it turned out the one and only item to be stolen was the laptop (OK, there were other items missing. The outdoor sensor for our indoor-outdoor thermometer, and a US$1 bill in Mrs. Dunce's jewelry box). Although I am pleased that no other items were taken, I am curiously insulted that I would have nothing worth stealing (OK, the burglar missed lots of goodies, including $30 or so in US$ in a hiding place, and other valuables I won't mention in case the burglar is actually a blog reader). Except books, and what sort of idiot would steal books? It's also probably a good thing that we were traveling, as we had various valuable things in hand (instead of in the house).

The police dusted the place for prints (Dear Heloise, Do you have any suggestions for removing fingerprint dust from household surfaces?), but apparently the intruder(s) wore gloves. There have apparently been a few very similar instances in the past month on our street. Quite likely a local (perhaps young, as the valuable item from an adult perspective wasn't taken), who has probably been watching the place for a while to get a sense of our routine. I'm definitely watching passersby from our window with a more jaded eye these days; it's a very nerve-racking experience to go through.

The window isn't really broken, but the lock is. So in the next day or two, the Landlord and I will embark on a security mission that will make Fort Knox look like an Absorbubble (TM). Or at least, improving the security of our front windows so that the situation will not be repeated any time soon.

Can you blame me for not writing the last Tallinn entry? Or an entry about our trip to Belgium (memo to all potential conference organizers: do not schedule a free beer reception on the first night of the conference. Especially when the local beer is very strong. Attendance at the second day may suffer)? Anyway I'm back, and I will be at home all day, every day, for the forseeable future (in case you're thinking of visiting my house with a crowbar, don't bother. I've got a small cat and I'm not afraid to use her against intruders).

consume
Friday, September 09, 2005 1:35:56 PM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)  #    Disclaimer  |  Comments [3]  | 
 Thursday, September 01, 2005
Sarah & Marc in love

I have to break my one-a-day habit if I'm ever going to finish my travel posts before I'm off traveling again (heading to a conference in Belgium on Saturday where I will be presenting a little of this and a little of that.). But I had to say something about our TV experience in Tallinn. Previous trips have taught us that we enjoy watching TV in other countries as a good way to chill out while traveling and at the same time getting a different take on things, especially commercials which can be especially hilarious (e.g. Japanese commercial which showed a young man choking down massive amounts of noodles, with a message something like "Cook them in 3 minutes, eat them in 3 minutes") and/or mystifying (it can be incredibly hard to figure out just what's being sold if you don't know the language or the popular brands).

As I mentioned in a previous entry, we got a good variety of channels from different countries, but were drawn to the German telly from the start (perhaps because the Finnish edition of Big Brother hadn't quite started). Perhaps because we both understand a certain amount of German, but I like to think the content had something to do with it.

DISCLAIMER: My interest in the following has nothing to do with any relatives living in Kentucky, or any relatives-in-law living in the Carolinas

First, there seemed to be an inordinate amount of coverage of Forbidden Love, ja, the Liebe between an Inzest-Mutter and an Inzest-Vater, and featuring plenty of images of the resulting Inzest-Baby (the latter with pixilated eyes as appears to be the custom in German images of young children). I'll summarize from a nice Austrian report. Susan (21) and Patrick (28) are brother and sister from Zwenkau (Saxony) who have now had four children together at an impressive rate of just over one per year. Patrick is imprisoned at the moment (on charges related to the first few), and the big issue now is whether Susan will be locked up as well. Every news report contained more developments (The lawyer speaks. Then a parents' rights advocate speaks. Then we hear from child services. Then an angry mother. The only thing we didn't get was a German version of I'm My Own Grandpa), and believe me it's difficult to keep a straight face hearing "das Inzest-Baby" again and again.

But wait, there's more. During the programs there was constant reference to "Sarah & Marc in love", including brief clips of these characters. She, a blonde German girl. He, a dumb dark-haired American guy. And then suddenly, the reality program commenced. They're apparently both pop stars (she, he) who have fallen in love just like America's favorite newlyweds [sic]. Perhaps the situation is quite parallel, as her music career seems to be a bit more advanced than his (she has not one but two English-language sites, he doesn't seem to have any. They also have a son, Tyler [who had pixilated eyes on the series] who does not seem to have any musical career at the moment). I'd never heard of either of them, but perhaps in Hasselhoff-land they are household names. Anyway, the program was following them up to their DREAM WEDDING which happened while we had access to German TV. We saw a couple of episodes, which revealed one important thing: despite being a German pop star, poor Mr. Terenzi seems to have a very minimal amount of ability in the German language. Which caused him great difficulty as he tried to understand and produce German while being followed by cameras shooting a documentary for the German market. Both Mrs. Dunce and I learned German in the midwest, and there was a great similarity between his attempts at German, and our duller classmates in, say, the first year of instruction. Even speaking directly to camera, his German was limited to the most basic sorts of words and phrases and slipped back to English at the drop of a hat (e.g. Sarah ist, erm, sehr schell, erm, about the wedding. [I think he meant to say that she's stressed, upset, nervous, but probably not "fast"]). Conversations in German went on around him, not the most difficult but he gave an impression of understanding nearly nothing.

The wedding happened on a sunny beach in Barcelona (apparently they occupied a public beach and tried to turn away the public, requiring the Spanish police to get involved. And "Frank" the wedding planner left some of the gifts behind in rainy Germany by mistake, so she wouldn't speak to him for most of the wedding day). Mrs. Dunce applauded the choice of a beach wedding as Sarah was able to be barefoot, reducing her severe height advantage over poor Marc. And most romantic of all, he sang his new single to her at the wedding (available now for purchase, imagine that!). Their vows were in English, fortunately for him (She did not suffer from the American Second Language Syndrome; her English was flawless, and I am sure this is not just from rehearsing the vows).

A strange and mysterious television world indeed. But now we have to leave them behind as none of our channels seem to be interested in covering their daily activities. Thank goodness for the comprehensive Official Site which offers plenty of photos, music, even the details to hire Frank to plan your own wedding!
teevee | travel
Thursday, September 01, 2005 4:34:54 PM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)  #    Disclaimer  |  Comments [1]  | 
Visiting Tallinn 2

Our second day in Tallinn started with breakfast. A fairly standard northern European hotel breakfast: cheese, sliced meat, boiled eggs and various kinds of bread (in Estonia, as in Germany, the bread is a big deal), assorted cereal products, and some sort of fishy dish (I'd place my bet on herring). I would say it was good but nothing to write home about, except here I am, writing home (and beyond) about it. On our way out we stopped by the hotel desk to buy our Tallinn Cards. Talk about a useful resource for tourists: it permits free admission to pretty much every museum and tourist site in town, free public transport, and loads of other offers we didn't take advantage of. Plus a handy little guidebook explaining how to get to each participating site. We went for the longest-lasting one, the 72-hour version (350EEK each) which covered us right up to our departure time (they are also available down to a six-hour one for 90EEK, if you're on a blitzkrieg tour of Tallinn [errr, on the other hand perhaps "blitzkrieg" isn't quite the appropriate term as the Estonian counterpart came from the other direction. More on that later too]).

Then it was time to get moving and squeeze all the possible use out of our Tallinn Card in the 72 hours remaining; after all, the clock was ticking! I'm afraid I'll have to skip some of the sights as this entry will otherwise turn into a massive effort and I have plenty of other things to work on. We started with the Niguliste Museum & Concert Hall (set in a former church built in 1230, with substantial renovations after severe damage in 1944). Featuring religious art from 13-18th centuries, some of which was particularly impressive. Mrs. Dunce may be a bit of a fanatic when it comes to medieval art, and how could anyone not appreciate images like the Dance Macabre:

(Death dancing with the Emperor & Empress with the houses of Lübeck in the background, see this site)

Or the altarpiece of St. Nicholas, commissioned by the wealthy Brotherhood of Blackheads (a high-flying guild of bachelor merchants founded in 1399, active only in Estonia and Latvia, and which lasted until the 1940s). As was the custom, it featured a whole set of Blackhead Brothers as pictured below:


We then headed up to Toompea, the upper walled town and the site of many government buildings, embassies and the like. On our way up we visited Kiek in de Kök (supposedly "once the most powerful tower along the Baltic shores", now a museum of (mostly) military history of the area, and then proceeded into the Alexander Nevsky Cathedral. Built at the end of the 19th century as part of the rush to Russify the Baltics, it's apparently a bit of irritation to Estonians when its image is used to illustrate Tallinn. But it's quite impressive, and here's my own picture to illustrate it:


Unfortunately we chose to visit the cathedral at the same time as hordes of loud, obnoxious tour groups (mostly older adults, just off cruises I would guess) were visiting, bustling, jostling, chattering, and so on. We had to wait for a while as one group streamed out of the entrance, then choose a gap and scurry in before the next group's exit. Of course other groups were crowding in at the same time for their allocated three minutes (or so it seemed, such was the rush).

After Toompea it was time for lunch (as I am writing this it's time for my lunch as well, suggesting to me that I should hurry up with this entry for goodness' sake). Due to incredible advance planning (some obsessive-compulsive tendencies on our parts), and the excellent availability of Tallinn restaurant websites, we had dinner reservations for all four nights. But there were many more than four interesting restaurants, so some of them had to be relegated to lunchtime. Balthasar was one such restaurant: Estonia's first garlic restaurant (founded in 1999, so there's been a gap in the market for centuries), set in a medieval building (of course!). We had our lunch in a lovely courtyard (my photo didn't come out well, perhaps Mrs Dunce will post a better one over on our photo site). We had garlic in everything (a mozzarella salad with sun dried tomatoes and pickled garlic, fish-garlic soup with mixed seafood, and snails with cheese and garlic butter). Thus fortified we set out for another museum, the Tallinn City Museum (one of the few websites that isn't in English). Set in a medieval merchant's house, it covers the history of the city (hint: trade, trade, trade) from the 13th century to modern times. Near the end was a section dedicated to life under Soviet rule and subsequent declaration of independence in 1989 which I particularly enjoyed. Especially the video footage of "Hands Across the Baltics" in the summer of 1989 in which a chain of people held hands through Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania in a public demonstration of solidarity (the footage was much more moving than what I remember about Hands Across America. I had to look it up to remember why that was done, and the impact of the Baltic version certainly appears to have been greater). At some point here (as well as the previous day which I have neglected entirely) we took a wander down some craft/art workshops of various kinds (in which the workshop and shop are one and the same). Mrs. Dunce ended up with a couple of very nice baubles, but I can't do them justice at all.

We went back to the room and watched some German TV to take a break before dinner. Again, I'll come back to this as it was especially memorably. For now all I can say is

(graffiti in Stamford Hill, north London)

Dinner was at Mõõkala, a swish seafood restaurant located in the town executioner's house (fortunately he was no longer living or practicing there). It was another excellent meal of the fishy sort: I had a pike-perch in some sort of extremely tasty creamy sauce, deeeeelicious. It was still early so we stopped by the Estonian pub (Hele Hunt) on our way home. They had their own line of beers, plus a large variety of imports (including not only Lithuanian, Latvian and Russian specialties, but also German, Belgian, English, even American beers), at quite reasonable prices (EEK25-30 for a half-liter, that's about £1.20 or so). A small sign on one of the pillars informed visitors that stag parties were not welcome, although there was quite an English presence at the moment at which we arrived (the Arsenal match was being shown on the big screen, although most of the Arsenal shirts were being worn by Scandinavian sorts). One thing quite different from British pubs is that there was almost no "vertical drinking": nearly everyone present was sitting down to drink: people would come in, see that there were no seats available, and go elsewhere rather than enjoying their drinks in a large, standing crowd (perhaps using the crowded environment to provide much-needed balance). And then we headed back to the hotel to catch up on the news from Germany. (Cliff-hanger alert).
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Thursday, September 01, 2005 11:14:57 AM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)  #    Disclaimer  |  Comments [0]  |