Or you know a Zombie apocalypse… This little bag available in khaki or yellow is printed on demand by CafePress.co.uk or CafePress.com put all the things you need to survive the collapse of civilization as we know it, you know like hand cream, soap and nail clippers…
It’s a little small I’d maybe like if on a messenger bag, I think it’s meant to hold a tablet PC/iPad or netbook rather than tools that will help you survive the impending end of civilization…
On an unrelated note I discovered that changing the .com to .co.uk on cafe press gives you the same product but available in the UK which is refreshing. I guess that’s one thing that’s nice about print on demand stuff rather than specially manufactured things.
On another unrelated note here is a picture of a dodo…
It occurs to me that there are millions of people out there who “Want to write a book” but either don’t have the time or talent to do so or are too lazy to bother trying. But these people have a “Really good idea for a story” which would “Sell millions of copies if they ever got the time to write it”. I can hardly criticize, I have posted several story ideas on this very blog, some of which I think are pretty good seeds for a story some of which are utter bollocks.
It also occurs to me that there are hundreds of starving artists out there who would love to live the bohemian dream of writing for a living rather than serving overpriced coffee to business men, if only someone would pay them to do it. Some of them might actually be talented writers who haven’t been discovered yet, some might just actually be a waste of space.
The business idea is to get the people who want to write a story but don’t have the time/inclination/talent/whatever and exploit their vanity by getting them to pay someone with some combination of time and talent to write the story for them. They pay by the hour and have editorial control of the story, and the ability to veto/suggest any ideas the ghost writer comes up with and or steer the story the way they want it to go. And the writer goes away and writes the story.
The Credit for the story goes to the “visionary” behind it, the Ghost writer meanwhile is given credit somewhere inside the book. After having run this for a while you can establish an economy for ghost writers, particularly good ones can demand higher prices and new ones cost less to hire.
I guess the business model is kinda of like what happens with hair dressers, you compliment someone on their hair and 90% of the time you don’t care who did it. But if you are looking to get a good haircut, and can’t do it yourself you go to a hair dresser. Top hair dressers charge an arm and a leg regardless of what you want done to your hair, but you can also get a really good deal on a student hair dresser who may be just as talented as the superstar hair dresser just not as well known.
Does anyone have any thoughts on this? Do you think it would work? Am I just mad? Probably…
How to be a Retronaught have found a set of images from the version of the Hobbit published in the USSR in 1976. I think I recognise all the characters but it’s really strange seeing characters that I picture one way (Thank you Rankin Bass) in a completely different light as interpreted by a different culture’s artists.
Does anyone ever remember what your last thought is before you go to sleep? I never can, I know it takes me ages to go to sleep, then I dream then I wake up.
It would be interesting if there was one particular thought that everyone had that was the equivelent of a sleep switch on your brain that would just send you to sleep. We could harness this to cure insomnia by just telling insomniacs to think this thought. but you could also cause some major havoc by making people think this thought by say eluding towards it on the radio, or in a newspaper.
Governments would be able to quell social unrest eluding to this thought to people who are rioting. How would you go about making people think a particular thought?
I basically dremt the entire plot to a horror movie last night. The basic premise was that somone cursed a neighborhood so that anyone who performed any action 100 times would die.
I don’t remember much more about the dream other than that the only way the curse could be lifted was by killing the person who had raised it. Which lead to mobs of people accusing each other of being the person who raised the curse, and killing each other.
People also had to avoid repetition in their actions because if they did anything too often they they’d die. I can’t remember exactly what the dreams definition of a thing was.
In my dream it turned out that the curse had been raised by some kid who with an electric guitar (I love the way dreams give you so much detail in for some things but the most absurd things can also just make sense) I think we found another way to lift the curse I cant remember.
There were other sinister things going on like there was a woman with loads of kids and she was using them to experiment on the cause of the curse, I think in the dream she was Indian but I’m not sure (Go my rascist subconscience and it’s adherance to stereo types)…
The rest of the dream is a bit fuzzy im my memory now, and I think it’s intermingled with another dream I had about the army invading the neighborhood I live in and the whole neighborhood turning out to be a test bed for experimental super soldiers…
The dream has just given me an idea for a satyrical game show though… Just a minute: extreme you have a minute to talk on a subject and if you repeat yourself or hesitate you die…
Anyway, I thought I’d blog it as the premise of a curse that killed anyone who did anything 100 times sounded interesting.
Avarinne and I went on holiday to Luxor in Egypt last month, and while there we did many cultural things.
I’ll blog about the cultural things soon this post is about something we saw on our third day in Luxor while wondering about in one of the many random alleyways.
Thats right it’s a barber shop called sweeny Todds. I had to take a photograph of it as we were passing by and just after I took the photo the guy inside the shop came out and told us to come in. We were a bit wary not because we thought he was going to kill us (there wasn’t a pie shop in miles so we knew we were safe) but because by our third day in egypt we were sick of people telling us a minute fact about something, or offering to take our photo and then asking for “Bakhshish” which is basically them asking for a tip for having done you whatever service they did.
Never the less we decided to risk it, we wen’t in and had a great chat with the guy who ran the barbers shop, he was a really nice guy called Rafat, to be honest I felt really guilty of my skepticism by the end of it.
The reason the place is called Sweeny Todds is because when Rafat was opening his barber shop he asked a friend who worked in one of the Hotels to ask the guests what a good “Famous” name for a barbers shop would be, and apparently they all said that Sweeny Tod would be a good name, so thats what he called it.
It wasn’t till much later that he found out about the real Sweeny Todd when he had a tourist in with his girlfriend and when Rafat got out the Razor to shave the tourist his girl friend asked jokingly that he not kill her boy friend.
Rafat said that he was really confused by this and asked why they’d think that? And they told him the story of Sweeny Todd. Since then Rafat has managed to aquire a book about Sweeny Todd and a couple of weeks beforehand somone had brought him a copy of the film.
We took some pictures posing with Rafat with a razor to our throats:
The guy was a really nice guy and I felt guilty about my initial reluctance to speak to him, as I was going out I reached for my wallet to give the guy some spare change, which he refused! This is unheard of in Egypt. He did say that I needs a shave and should come back, I did need a shave, but I never got round to going back.
Here is Rafat’s Business Card in case you want to have a close shave with death while in Luxor:
If my memory serves me right this map should tell any wayward tourists how to get there, worst case just call the Guy his number is on the business card.
I had the oddest dream last night, I was a super hero, who was a Judge, and I fought crime using Implements that a Judge would have. When I say a Judge, I’m not refering to a 2000 AD Judge like Judge Dredd I mean a regular Judge with a wig, robes and a gavel.
In fact the only thing I remember about this dream was that I had Gavel-rangs, which much like Batmans Batarangs were Gavels that I threw at villains and they came back to my hands.
The comedy nature of my dream made me think of the campness of The 60’s Batman TV series which is a “campification” of what is in actuallity a really dark and troubled character. I wonder if the same thing could be done to Judge Dredd? Or if “The Judge” with his Gavel-rangs will make an appearance else where.
I leave you with this thought…
Here comes the Judge, Here comes the judge, here comes the Judge…