B U R N

…then please leave a comment with your email address or contact me by other means. Preference will not be given to random strangers.

Yesterday saw the launch of a project in which I have invested a lot of energy and effort.

For once it is public facing, so I would encourage you to educate yourself on why media literacy is important by visiting this sparkling new site: How Media Is Made.

For those wondering what a headline generator might be, there is another virtual entrance here: Elvis Walks.

In connection with the launch, I wrote a background piece for the Guardian. Check it out here.

I heard a Shadow Minister casually drop the word ‘mashup’ into the conversation. That can only be a good sign of the things to come.

This week I have come across two ‘gadgets’ that I would do almost anything to own:

The BOR 90

The new America’s Cup yacht from BMW Oracle is a monster. The BOR 90 is the most radical boat in the history of the 158-year-old regatta, resembling a floating skyscraper more than a traditional racing yacht as it towers nearly 200-feet high.

The Nissan Glider

The Nissan Land Glider concept is a tiny electric vehicle that features a computer controlled steering system that leans the car into the turns. The pilot driver is seated centrally in the cabin with space for a single passenger directly behind in the narrow cabin.

But less will do…

Overheard on the way out of the Tube station. Commuters everywhere. The lady is walking behind me, she is on the phone.

Her: Hi, it’s me

[the person at the other end starts chit-chatting]

Her: Yes, yes, but listen, I need you to shut up for five minutes and let me talk. You wouldn’t believe what’s happened, I’m on my way to the police station…

And then our ways parted.

Nancy Spector, chief curator of the NYC Guggenheim Museum, on the appeal of Tracey Emin and her lack of recognition outside the UK:

“I think of Tracey’s work as having a lot in common with the sort of reality television that came out of Great Britain.”

(Quite big in Britain, not quite in the U.S. in the NYT).

There comes a point in the life of a doctoral student where the weight of the thesis becomes so unbearable that the mere sight of it leads to a state of nausea.

Then life moves on slowly and sooner or later, it becomes possible to say the word ‘thesis’ again, without any visible signs of discomfort. I am gradually making my way into the latter territory, and this weekend marked the passage of a key event in this healing process, graduation day.

At Oxford (and elsewhere, of course), this is a big thing. My brothers stole my camera for most of the day and took some jolly pictures.

Here are my favourites:

(more…)

There is nothing like an early morning run in Holland Park while the city is still asleep. This morning the paths were covered in crisp, yellow leaves, flanked by carved-out pumpkins that had barely survived the night. Not a single person in sight, it was raining cats and dogs, with bitter leaves still being hurled down from above. There is but one appropriate soundtrack for an excursion like that:

Next time I come there, it will be for the Belvedere and the tune will undoubtedly be different.