24 June - dyas & nabokov
Some unrelated thoughts...
In Robert Dyas they sell a plastic mini tea bag bin for £4.99. I stared at it for about 4 mins. Trying to fathom why would anybody need one as opposed to stretching their arm and dropping the used teabag into their main bin or putting it on the kitchen top/in a saucer or other cup and then throwing it away. Truly a modern day puzzle! The plastic looked all of 7p’s worth. I resisted the temptation to check if it was made in China. Admittedly there are some useful new inventions. I was tempted by a fan that you can program to automatically switch off after 2 or 4 hours, but the tea bag bin seemed obscene considering £4.99 (and it was on offer, save £1) is probably the price of some inoculation for kids in third world. Think they should rename our worlds and make that the fourth it’s just not getting any better and before anyone accuses me of anything… I did do my third world studies/NGO’s etc. I do slightly know what I’m talking about and can navigate my way through the Economist and the likes. It is to be noted that Robert Dyas (and camera /phone shops) are full of men on their lunch breaks. The remaining ones are subdivided equally between pubs/wine bars and a 3 deep throng positioned in front of the male mags music/cinema /games mags at WHSmith. However, it is impossible to get their attention, they are 'fixated'.
Found this in Despair by Nabokov “Alas, my tale degenerates into a diary... I have grown so used to writing, that now I am unable to desist. A diary, I admit, is the lowest for of literature”. Brilliant! I am so hoping that my diary will generate a tale instead. Elsewhere in the preface he says “in kinship with the rest of my books, this has no social comment to make, no message to bring in its teeth. It does not uplift the spiritual organ of man, nor does it show humanity the right exit. It contains far fewer ‘ideas’ than do those rich vulgar novels that are acclaimed so hysterically in the short echo-walk between the ballyhoo and the hoot”. Seems my aspirations tally with Nabokov. Am elated to have found a kindred spirit. Foyles have his total output in attractive slim line grey Penguins. I covet. So many I never read before…
In Robert Dyas they sell a plastic mini tea bag bin for £4.99. I stared at it for about 4 mins. Trying to fathom why would anybody need one as opposed to stretching their arm and dropping the used teabag into their main bin or putting it on the kitchen top/in a saucer or other cup and then throwing it away. Truly a modern day puzzle! The plastic looked all of 7p’s worth. I resisted the temptation to check if it was made in China. Admittedly there are some useful new inventions. I was tempted by a fan that you can program to automatically switch off after 2 or 4 hours, but the tea bag bin seemed obscene considering £4.99 (and it was on offer, save £1) is probably the price of some inoculation for kids in third world. Think they should rename our worlds and make that the fourth it’s just not getting any better and before anyone accuses me of anything… I did do my third world studies/NGO’s etc. I do slightly know what I’m talking about and can navigate my way through the Economist and the likes. It is to be noted that Robert Dyas (and camera /phone shops) are full of men on their lunch breaks. The remaining ones are subdivided equally between pubs/wine bars and a 3 deep throng positioned in front of the male mags music/cinema /games mags at WHSmith. However, it is impossible to get their attention, they are 'fixated'.
Found this in Despair by Nabokov “Alas, my tale degenerates into a diary... I have grown so used to writing, that now I am unable to desist. A diary, I admit, is the lowest for of literature”. Brilliant! I am so hoping that my diary will generate a tale instead. Elsewhere in the preface he says “in kinship with the rest of my books, this has no social comment to make, no message to bring in its teeth. It does not uplift the spiritual organ of man, nor does it show humanity the right exit. It contains far fewer ‘ideas’ than do those rich vulgar novels that are acclaimed so hysterically in the short echo-walk between the ballyhoo and the hoot”. Seems my aspirations tally with Nabokov. Am elated to have found a kindred spirit. Foyles have his total output in attractive slim line grey Penguins. I covet. So many I never read before…
posted by Lisa Taylor @ 9:09 AM
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