Personal Media · 9 November 2011 ·
No News For Me
I’m what you would probably consider a news junkie. Everyday I spend around two-three hours reading the news, coming in through various channels: Blogs, Twitter, the websites of the Guardian, Spiegel, Die Zeit, Heise and so on. From political commentary, election results, campaigns, protests, climate change, copyright legislation, immigration, the NHS, etc.—I read it all. I would usually be up-to-date and well informed.
But after doing this for a few years now, there is little left to surprise me: A new news item on the Guardian? I can guess what it says. Apple releases new hardware? Sure they do. The new Linux kernel brings new hardware drivers? Interesting. NHS reform? Tell me something new. Homoeopathy doesn’t work the way it’s supposed to? Well, neither does Reiki. Climate change is a fact? I’ve seen the evidence. HTML5 might lose the <time> element? Nope, luckily <time> is back. Financial Markets in turmoil? Oh sure, even Berlusconi resigns. The current economic system is inherently unfair? Yep, and that’s not even going into gender aspects. This is how you become a street photographer. This is the law. Apple sues Samsung and Samsung sues Apple? Who cares. But did you know that soon you can talk to dolphins? Disregarding the quality of most science reporting, which is sometimes utterly appalling. But I even read about about pretty pylons and ugly graphs
I devour the content, side with issues, applaud authors who write good analyses and get annoyed with those who—in my view—miss the point. Some stories just make me sad, some make me laugh—good satires usually do both at the same time.
Most of the things I have read, I have already forgotten. Some I keep in my del.icio.us, and from the ones I remember and those I keep there, most of them are irrelevant. But occasionally they covered my back in exams and discussions, and I was able to provide arguments I otherwise couldn’t. Thus, this habit was incredibly useful at times.
But it’s getting too much, too dull and too repetitive, in particular with anything political. Don’t get me wrong, I love politics. But when you scroll through your Twitter feed or the news stream, you can pretty much predict what you’re going to read when you click on an article, and I am getting tired of it. Instead of the Guardian, I would be better off reading Pettit, Popper or Plato. I feel that there’s more to be discovered in there than the daily iterations of the papers. It’s a little bit like zooming out, from the nitty gritty daily politics to a wider picture. But there is another aspect to it: There’s not much I can do about most of the news. Whether I read them or not, not much will change (other than my emotional state after reading a particularly aggravating text). Also, I could also spend the time reading literature and actually taking my mind off things, too.
Enough is enough: For one month I won’t be reading any news. No Guardian, BBC, Spiegel, Die Zeit, Heise, Macrumors, no blogs, I will still be on Twitter but I will disregard any news-like content there. I will make an exception for articles on statistics, evolution and psychology. After all, this is what I study. Oh, and XKCD. One must read XKCD.
Let’s see how it goes.
If the world suddenly comes to an end, please do let me know.
Personal · 1 October 2011 ·
Detours to Copenhagen, on a bike
For years and years I have been planning on going on a cycle trip from my home village in Brandenburg, up to Copenhagen in Denmark. Right past my parents’ house runs the cycle track Berlin – Copenhagen, with a total of 630km. From Himmelpfort it’s only a little over 500km to Denmark’s capital. It’s all flat, and makes a perfect beginner’s tour. I had been to Denmark quite often when I was child and I was curious whether it would look different to me now, from an adult perspective.
Initially I planned on buying a new touring bike (other than my trusty Sun, which is still in Scotland), indeed I would have loved to have a proper Randonneuse like VSF Fahrradmanufaktur T-Randonneur or the Randonneur by Patria. But financial constraints made me abandon both options quickly, and upgrading my old Bianchi frame would have probably been almost as expensive. Thus, the Bianchi just got a minor overhaul to ensure that it would not fall apart on the way, and the two holes in the rear of the frame (nickname: “vampire bite”) would not cause any troubles when the bike was fully loaded. Check: brakes (“sort of work”), pannier rack (“just attach it somehow—pray to FSM it will hold!”), adjust the old Shimano Positron gear derailleurs (“shifty!”), though the front derailleur refused to cooperate and I decided that 9 gears are enough. (Heck, my Sun in Scotland is three speed only—but rather three gears with a useful ratio than 18, of which most are useless), lights (work surprisingly well) and a fresh oiling.
The panniers, once packed accumulated to a good 20 kg of luggage and the tent plus the roll mat were probably another 4kg, so I was surprisingly within the limit of the pannier—I expected much more! Two rubber bands secured the tent and the roll mat. Surely not the most elegant solution but heck, we’re not on a fashion show here! (more about the rubber bands later…)
Day 1 – Departing from Himmelpfort
I left Himmelpfort at around noon on Wednesday, and aimed to cross the Brandenburg-Mecklenburgian border on the same day. Thus, I passed “Ravensbrück”:http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ravensbrück_concentration_camp on my way to Fürstenberg, before leaving Brandenburg shortly after. Just before Wustrow I stayed on the cycle track which now went through dry, runny sand. With my thin 27” inch wheels this was to no avail, I turned for the main road, and then suddenly my eyes got hold of a few… parasol mushrooms!
...delicious!
I doubt I even came close to that speed limit
An old farm
Parasols are a safe bet, because there’s not much you can confuse them with. Later in the evening I simply fried them with some olive oil, added a bit rice milk and water, and 2-3 pinches of vegetable stock (Salt and pepper would have been nice, too) and had them with a few slices of bread. (Pasta works fine as well) Most delicious!
I was also hoping to find some chanterelle mushrooms, but to spot these from the distance requires eyes beyond perfection. Also, the yellow birch leaves typically found en masse in most forests look like chantarelles from the distance. Yet the rate of birch leaves to mushrooms is probably a 1000:1, and whenever you thought you saw a chantarelle, it turned out to be a birch leaf, thus I could usually not be bothered to stop and check.
Other than that I hoped to spot a sparassis. This rare mushroom looks a bit like a brain, fallen out of the skull or Spongebob Squarepants, just not so square. Despite its looks it is most delicious. It has a firm texture and a spicy taste and again, there are not many mushrooms it can be confused with. Unfortunately I was unlucky, and found none.
All in all I probably cycled a little short of 100km, when it was getting dark at around 10 pm and no campsite in sight. Just before it got properly dark I found a spot on a meadow, just behind some trees, where I set up my tent and had my mushrooms for dinner, together with the mosquitoes. The latter had me for dinner, despite me putting on an extra thick layer of insect repellent. But those blood thirsty bastards were starved out and would not be stopped by anything.
not the happiest sight.
Dinner: Fresh, hand picked mushrooms
In the distance, a train. Possibly going to Rostock, much faster than me on the bike...
Day 2 – Rostock ahead!
I was just before Waren, and when I woke up in the morning quickly packed my tent to get there. From Waren onwards, my next stop was Güstrow, and it was here that I realised—heck, I might be able to make it to Rostock today! The weather was as good as it could possibly be, not to hot nor too cold, and sunny the whole day. Until the late evening, just before Rostock: All of the sudden it just started to pour down on me. I got soaked through, despite rain-proof clothes and trying to find shelter under a tree. After the rain I was cycling down a hill and heard a ‘cling’ noise, as if a piece of metal fell off. I stopped, checked the road and the bike, but could not find anything. Dear piece of metal, whether you belonged to me or not, you will be truly missed.
Cake break in Güstrow.
This is pretty much as uphill as it gets.
Sheep!
Rostock was close and I would not stopped until I got there. 30km to Rostock! 20km! 10km! I found an apple tree with delicious august apples in a village before Rostock, and stocked up my fruit supplies. Onwards to Rostock! It was slowly getting late (and dark) when I reached Rostock and tried to find a place to sleep. But the cheapest option wast €80. Rather than throwing out the money I would set for Gedser—the last ferry was at 1.45am. After getting lost a few times in Rostock (heck, it’s dark and I can’t see the way!), I missed all earlier ones.
Waiting for the ferry. At 1.45am.
Waiting to board.
Ferries at night are quite a sight.
Tired, I reached the port. When I wanted to buy a ticket the lady at the desk asked me whether I’m here with my truck. Thinking of my luggage-ladden bike I was inclined to say yes, but since a single bike ticket was already €17 I figured a truck is probably more expensive.
Day 3 – From Gedser to Stubbekøbing
Once I arrived at Gedser at around 3am, I made my way to the free campsite near the coast. Tired and fed up, I pitched the tent and was ready for bed at around 4am. Instead of the 120km that I planned, I must have cycled about 150km and was knackered. What a day, sleep tonight! I slept till 11am, and left the campsite at around 1pm, after breakfast, refilling the water supplies, checking over the bike, keeping the wasps out of the tent, etc. What started off as a grey but ok day, quickly turned to rain and again I got soaked thoroughly on the way to Nykøbing/Falster.
This is Denmark!
This way, but break first.
Next stop Møn.
Somewhere on the way I met a woman from Berlin and we cycled together to Stubbekøbing, where we met another German guy on a bike. We pondered over whether we should go on, or look for a place to stay. But the guy found an incredibly cheap three bed apartment, and the matter was settled.
Over pasta, parasol mushrooms and wine, it turned out that the man was a Lutheran pastor, the woman Jewish, and I, well Pastafarian, I suppose… In the conversation that followed, we touched upon what religion means to us, the way to lead one’s life, the balance between children and the partner’s career, and last but not least the fall of the wall, and its current importance. Interesting strands of argument developed: Thus, for the pastor the East/West divide was far more significant than for us other two, despite the woman being much closer to his age than mine. But those few years already made a difference, particularly since he refused military service in East Germany. The topic of religion was also unavoidable. Whilst it quite obviously played a big role for the pastor, and he was also interested in the Jewish religion, for the woman religion did not play a big part of her life. Despite this, she lived in Israel for a few years and sent her children to a Jewish school, to pass on the culture. In a similar fashion, the personal significance of Ravensbrück, the concentration camp we all passed on our journey, was perceived differently. Visiting the camp was a very significant experience for him, she however did not stop, partly due to the omnipresent history and the feelings it would evoke, but also because it was part of a past she herself did not experience; it seemed too long ago. Since I grew up just a few miles from the camp, it had a different significance for me: It was always there, and I would often pass it but only every few years I would go and actually visit it. Because of this it was a bit to the periphery of my mind, something I pondered on for a while after that evening. Another topic was the balance between career and children, a feminist issue you might say: She was telling us that she had to step back in her own career after her children were born, and that it was difficult to catch up with her boyfriend, who was now contributing the larger share of the income, despite her having had better prospects before their children were born.
Thus, this turned out to be the most social time I had on my journey to Copenhagen, for most of the other days I travelled by myself and would hardly talk to anyone.
Day 4 – Around Møn
A dandelion on Møn
From Stubbekøbing the pastor and I took the ferry to Møn (gotta love the øs and ås!), where we parted. I had already been there as a child, and had fond memories of the place. Thus I took the 50 km detour around Møn, and stopped at Møns Klint, the chalk cliff. To get there, you first have to cycle uphill for 1/3rd of the way, park your bike and climb down to the pebble beach. There is a sign, saying it takes 15 minutes to climb down, and it does take 15 minutes, despite the fact that you’re only a dozen metres away from the sea.
Møn's Klint
The road ahead.
I thought I’d make it to Præstø but I quickly abandoned that plan when rain clouds gathered over me and it was already getting late. Wanting to avoid a disaster like earlier in Rostock, I decided to call it a day, and made my way to the free camp site in Stege. There, I pitched the tent, made dinner, said hi to the cows that were staying next to me, and shortly after thunderstorm and lightning came over me. I, in the tent, had a safe and dry night, spending most of it reading Three men on the Bummel by Jerome K. Jerome: A book about three Gentlemen from Great Britain, going on a cycle tour in the 19th century Schwarzwald.
Day 5 – Stevns Klint
Apparently, this area was used as a surveillance station during the cold war. It was only converted to a campsite a few years ago.
Stevns Klint campsite
So this is where I stayed, the green tent in the middle is mine. The free campsite at Stevns Klint was one of the best places on the tour. The view was amazing, the facilities really good too and the weather was super-nice.
Good night!
View from the observation platform at Stevns Klint, showing my destination...
It's getting dark, whilst I was searching for cover and a place for the night
The morning started off with a nasty breeze blowing right into my face. Even downhill felt as like uphill, and to make things worse I had to cycle on the busy road from Møn to Kalvehave. It felt as if I wasn’t making much progress at all. But with the weather improving, my mood lightened up, too. Later during the day I was pretty cheerful indeed. I passed a few cherry trees, stopped at a few more, and kept on cycling for another 70km. I had just stocked up my food and water supplies at the supermarket at around 6pm, when rain clouds gathered and seemed to chase after me. This quickly turned into a race between me and the clouds, with me reaching the last free campsite before Copenhagen before the rain. The tent was quickly pitched and I found myself at Stevns Klint, one of the best free campsites I had been: There wasn’t just fresh water supply, but a wheelchair friendly toilet, plenty of benches, and even a observation platform to appreciate the view!
The campsite at Stevns Klint used to be a military base for controlling the airspace during the cold war, and a cold war museum is close by. Initially, after looking at the map, I thought I would have the opportunity to go for a swim in the Baltic Sea, but I quickly disbanded the idea: Such a swim would have involved me jumping off the 20m cliff, and I intended to reach Copenhagen in one piece the next day…
Day 6 – Copenhagen, at last!
A bike romance.
80 kilometres to Copenhagen! No biggie, and thus I started at 9.30 to allow me enough time to get to the tourist information and get a hostel for two nights. Just on the last twenty kilometres I met the pastor again, and together we made our way to Denmark’s capital. But first we went for a coffee, and rainclouds gathered over us—another 50kms to go!
Cycle track to Roskilde
Krydsende Cyklister
Denmark is a musical country.
Ølby rocks!
When we finally reached Copenhagen it was pouring over us and we quickly made it to the hotel where my fellow traveller was supposed to stay. Soaked (again!), but excited to have made it, I found out that all hostels were booked, and my only rescue was Couchsurfing, where I found a kind soul hosting me for the two nights in Copenhagen.
Day 7 and Departure
I did not make any plans for my stay there, and I am not a very touristy person. They say that the journey is its own reward, and the main purpose of my trip was getting there; once I arrived I did not quite know what to do and took the opportunity of just cycling through Copenhagen. I went through a few alternative streets, visited a few art shops, went briefly to Christiana (but since there was no photography allowed, didn’t stay too long) and generally tried to get a feeling for the city.
A street in Copenhagen
Plenty of bikes in Copenhagen.
These ungrateful bastards were snapping after people feeding them.
Just chilling...
Copenhagen
Posing.
Directions
One of the things I sensed pretty quickly was that this is a bike city: All main roads had two-way cycle tracks, and you would find yourself in a crop of a dozen cyclists, most of them rushing past you because they knew the way.
Unfortunately I had to be back home soon. On the next morning, I took the train to Nykøbbing. From there I cycled to Gedser (there are no direct trains from Nykøbbing to Gedser) and set over to Rostock, where I took the RE5 regional train going via Berlin. This is by far the cheapest option to get to Berlin. The alternative would be to take the Eurocity via Hamburg, but other than being more expensive it’s not much quicker either. On the way home from Fürstenberg, I stopped over in the forest—and finally found some chantarelles!
Home again.
Things I took with me:
- 2 waterproof panniers by Vaude
- 1 two man tent (to store my luggage as well)
- 1 gas cooker
- 1 saucepan
- Spoon, fork, knife, plastic cup, tupper box
- socks, underwear
- cycling shorts (sexy! but making long tours more comfortable)
- cycling shirts (no cotton, synthetics or wool dry much faster)
- a rain jacket (unfortunately not sufficiently waterproof)
- rain trousers (make sure the material is breathable)
- toilet paper
- a small shovel
- bread, sliced
- 3 cans of mixed vegs, 1 can of green beans: great for soups and stir fries
- dried tofu, excellent for stir fries and won’t go off!
- a few apples
- vegetable stock
Things I wish I took with me
- Salt and pepper
- more plastic bags to separate my luggage. It’s ideal if you neatly group all your belongings in plastic bags, so that you, for example keep all cooking utensils together, all rain clothes and all tools: If it starts to rain, you just pull out the appropriate bag with all the clothes and put them on. Everything is in one place and you don’t need to unpack the entire pannier to find what you need.
- a proper, 100% waterproof rain jacket.
Cuisine Cycliste
When travelling and camping, it’s good to have a few simple recipes that rely on few ingredients and that you can easily be recombine, to achieve a bit of variation.
- Cous cous or polenta
- Pasta is nice too, but takes longer to cook
- tomato puree can be used to produce flavoursome soups, as a simple bread spread or to add the taste of tomato to other meals.
- Salt and pepper for basic flavouring
- vegetable stock will do the rest
- onions + garlic as a base
- A few spoonfuls of flour can be used to thicken up stocks and soups
- dried tofu is a great ingredient to add crunchiness to the dish, and it won’t go off
Polenta-Stew
- Polenta
- (Rice) Milk
- Canned Tomatoes/vegetables
- Dried tofu
- vegetable stick
- Salt + Pepper
Fry a chopped onion in olive oil, quickly followed by the tofu. Add the canned vegetables once the onions are soft. Heat up, until they boil and add the vegetable stock, salt and pepper. Add a bit of milk, and again, heat up until it boils. Then add the polenta, so that it roughly takes up a third of the liquid content and leave to simmer for one minute. Turn off the heat, wait five minutes, stirring occasionally and serve whilst hot.
Couscous salad
- Canned vegetables
- 1 onion (coarsely chopped)
- Water
- olive oil
- Dried Soya
- Vegetable Stock
Pretty much the same procedure, just with water instead of milk, a bit more vegetable stock and the couscous replaces the polenta.
Simple Tomato Soup (sauce)
- onions (finely chopped)
- garlic (finely chopped)
- 1/2 tube tomato puree
- flour
- olive oil
- basil, oregano (if available, otherwise vegetable stock)
- water
- Salt + Pepper
Gently fry the onion in olive oil, add the garlic. Once soft, add two table spoons of flour and stir well. Immediately add the tomato puree, followed by water. Season according to taste and availability. Depending on how much water you add, you either get a liquid soup or a thick tomato sauce that works well with pasta. If you add dried tofu with the onions, you well get a chewy bits, too! Now, if that doesn’t sound delicious, I don’t know!
Personal · 30 September 2011 ·
Looking back is different
The beginning of my MSc in Evolution of Language and Cognition here at Edinburgh marks not only the next logical step in my academic career, but is also a time of reflection. Where am I now, how did I get here and where will I be going next?
It is the ‘how did I get here?’ that seems to be the easiest of all questions. In retrospective all those life choices line up in one perfect, straight line and one wonders “Could there have been any other choice?” It all falls so neatly into place… Wasn’t most of the coursework I did in my undergraduate on language? Haven’t I been trying to tackle the question of the origins of communication in these papers? Did I not choose to study psychology because I was fascinated by the work of the Austro-American psychologist, philosopher and linguist Paul Watzlawick? Did I not already as a child get my best grades in biology? Was it not my mother, a biology teacher, who always left her books on biology and evolution on the living room table, so that I could read them? And weren’t my favourite toys my plastic dinosaurs?
Well, indeed: All of this is true. But the past tense is different to the present. Things look different when you look back, compared to what they were like when you underwent them. What once was a deep and thorough maze, looks, retrospectively, like a long, straight road. All the windings, crossings and hills, they are forgotten now. How often did you find yourself at a fork and the decision to go either left or right was more or less coincidental, you might as well could have flipped a coin? If you had asked me a year ago, “what do you want to do for your MSc?” I would have replied: “Political Psychology”. And not having picked this course, left me heartbroken. (But had I not picked the MSc in Evolution, I would have left me heartbroken just as much) Only a year before I started my undergraduate, I did not consider studying psychology. Sure, I had already read most of Paul Watzlawick’s work, and it did have a significant impact on the way I looked at things1. But during my IB, I wanted to either biology, chemistry…or media informatics. In fact, I already had a place to do the latter in a small town in the south of Germany, and only cancelled it when I heard that I had been accepted in Glasgow.
And the list goes on: Before I came to the UK to do my Baccalaureate, I never thought of going abroad for more than a year. It just didn’t occur to me. Even the choice to go abroad, was purely incidental, and more so that I would stay here. But now, the time I spent over here, in England and in Scotland, has become such an integral part to my self-identity, I simply cannot imagine what life would have been like if I had stayed in Germany.
So, I have just moved to Edinburgh and started my postgraduate. When you get older, things fall into place more easily it seems. I got it all worked out, from now on: After my MSc, I will go and do a PhD somewhere in Europe, wherever I can find an interesting and preferably paid position. Then I will try to find a Post doc, again somewhere in Europe, or maybe the States or somewhere else on this planet. Possibly the moon, but I don’t think we will be that far advanced by then. I will try to contribute to the understanding of where we humans are coming from, and more importantly, where we are going to. All this boils down to a set of questions that have been bugging me for the past few years: What constrains are there on the way human societies are structured? What kind of social structures make us feel included and give us the desire to contribute positively to our society? How is it that we can communicate, share our thoughts and feelings, using such an abstract and in itself meaningless communication system, like our language(s)?
This is how I am picturing it right now. But speak to me in ten years time, and maybe things look different then.
1 This sounds a bit hyperbolic. In a way, all Watzlawick did, was raising my awareness for contextual thinking, not looking at the things themselves but at the context they are in and the relationships between them. Although Watzlawick targeted this interactional view primarily towards communication, it is widely applicable. For example, we might use it to describe political relations during the Cold War or the relationship with our neighbours, etc.
Personal · 17 September 2010 ·
Sunshine
I am running out of puns on suns, but here are some final pictures of the refurbished Sun bike. It looked shiny, and almost as-new, when I picked it up from the Commonwheel Project on June, 28th. Since then it has accumulated quite a bit of dirt, but I have dug up a few old photos from the tour to Tyndrum I did with a few friends of mine shortly after.
But so far the bike has served me well, with the help of my panniers I have even moved large pieces and the odd shopping home. And generally it is the best thing to get around, even in a not-so-bike-friendly city, like Glasgow. But this holds also true.
Fresh after being built up by the Commonwheel Project - still without badge.
Ready for the tour, with panniers and tent.
For simplicity, the badge is fixated by silicone and nail heads are used to replicate the original look.
Built by the Commonwheel Project, Glasgow
The rear wheel is built around a new Sturmey Archer AW 3-speed hub.
Tied and Tickled Trio - Aelita
If you are curious, where the name Tamaghis comes from, it originates from a song by the German band Tied & Tickled Trio.
Personal · 27 July 2010 ·
That old English-Turkish exercise book I found on the street...
…has a translation of the Daisy-song into Turkish:
Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer, do.
I’m half crazy for the love of you.
It won’t be a stylish marriage,
I can’t afford a carriage.
But you’ll look sweet-upon the seat
Of a bicycle built for two.
According to the wee book, this is translated into:
Papatya, Papatya, bana cevabini ver,
Senin askindan yari cilgina döndüm.
Modaya uygun bir dügün olmayacak.
Araba tutacak param yok.
Fakat sen cok tatli olacaksin
Iki kisilik bisikletin üstünde.
It was printed in 1962, 6 years before 2001:Space Odyssey.
Music Personal · 17 July 2010 ·
Subcity - Laser Party 2010
Subcity LASER Party (2010) from Subcity Radio on Vimeo.
Subcity Radio, Glasgow University’s student radio station, doesn’t just do radio. We also do events, like this one here, at the Art School. Thanks Joe for this wee video.
Video: Joe Crogan
Music: Koopa Boss Mode – Laser Sword
Date: 13 June 2010
Location: Art School, Glasgow
Personal Music · 8 July 2010 ·
Console
NEWS: New Console album “Herself” to be released on Nov 26th 2010 (Germany)/Nov 29th 2010 (UK).
I’m in love with Console. Apparently he (or rather, they) will be releasing a new album in Autumn. It’s definitely something to look forward to.
It took me a while until I got into him, through my other big love, the Notwist. I had the chance of seeing him on the 2003 Immergut Festival, but I passed it. I was too young. My musical horizon was too limited, and frankly I just didn’t know what to expect. It wasn’t love at first sight, I was distracted by my first love, a different kind of love. But just with Portishead, or even Radiohead, it was love at second sight that proved to be long lasting and fulfilling. Console’s Magnolia is one of these songs that just stuck. It provides a closeness that’s only found in a few songs.
On the other hand “Suck and Run” provided the necessary distance to get over those relationships that did not last:
Also, through Console and his various alter egos like Acid Pauli and the For God Con Soul posse, I keep on stumbling upon plenty of other music that I wouldn’t have heard of otherwise, or, in other instances, would have remained inaccessible to me. Thus, I never really got into Philipp Boa and Pia Lund. Yet in a DJ Set by Console member FC Shuttle, I stumbled upon this rather fun song: Pia Lund – Der Himmel, a hypnotising tale about the prospect of love.
Personal · 22 June 2010 ·
The Sun is, as a matter of fact, green
My Sun frame is back from the powder coaters in a lovely British Racing Green. I will get some white paint and do the appliances over the weekend. After that, the folks from Common Wheel are going to take over again and do their mastery, to bring this old frame back to glory.
Personal Tech-stuff · 20 June 2010 ·
The Sun is rising...
Since my bike got stolen over Easter, I need a new one. I decided to go back to the Common Wheel Project, a Glasgow-based charity that employs people with mental illness to build and repair bikes. It’s a brilliant project and they do a very good job at building bikes, too. Plus, they are a bit geeky.
A suitable frame was quickly found, it’s an old Sun frame, made in Birmingham. It required a little bit attention, a few holes had to be welded and it’s currently at ESP powder coaters for a new painting. The bike will be build up as a touring/commuting bike. It will probably feature a Sturmey Archer 3-speed hub, drop bars, mud guards and a pannier rack, so that I can go onto the odd ride into the Scottish countryside. Also, the gears will ease the way up at Gilmorehill. Clearly the founders of my beloved university weren’t cyclists themselves…
Either way, here are a few pictures of the frame before and after the welding:
Music Personal · 25 March 2010 ·
A Request.
Things have been a bit strange recently, and I need a soundtrack for that. My library is full of melancholic music, not because I’m such a sad person, but it’s just what I generally listen to. But right now, I do need a break. A few weeks ago I had the sudden desire to listen to classical music, from Orf and Bach to Penderecki and Rautavaara.
But now I hunger for something completely different. I feel restless. I can’t live without my daily dose of melancholic music, but at the same time I need something that’s still got a drive. Something that makes me get up and do things. Something like Electric President and Radical Face:
At the very moment I’m listening to a lot of Calexico’s stuff:
Through @Milktime I came across Bullets by Tunng and this is now rotation:
Also, The High Road by the Broken Bells is quite high up in my playlist:
So, if you have any music that would go nicely with the afore mentioned songs, that would be highly appreciated.