Archive for September, 2010

My iPhone is Shit

iPhone, my iPhone:

Back when I upgraded, you seemed like such a blessing

So I’m completely mortified and guilty about confessing

It’s all hype, I can’t type on a tiny pain of glass;

Sending texts and emails is really quite an arse.

Every day you’re causing me embarrassment with typos.

“Thanks for the birthday ‘pressure’?” You make me look a psycho.

You act all slick and cool but actually you’re phoney.

My friend named her son Toby — you renamed him “Tony.”

What’s the point of a phone that drops important calls?

How can you hold your head up when your camera’s a load of balls?

It freezes really badly when I try to take a pic,

I’ve lost so many memories, I’m feeling like a prick.

I’m sick

And tired

My temper has expired

I finally got a piece of kit that everyone admired

But it’s shit

That’s it

I should flush it down the loo.

Followed by my iMac and my iPad too.

But then again, my Blackberry isn’t that much better.

Maybe I should pack it in, write a fucking letter.

Upgrade — or Unbearable Naivete

Blackberry, O my Blackberry,
No longer shall I suckle at thy tarry teat,
No longer shall I trackpad.
With my iPad,
And my iPhone 4,
I will touchscreen.
Obscene?
Perhaps (with all the apps).
But now I’m Schnaps, no longer Snapple;
I’m not a berry,
I’m an apple.

Geologists warn that the UK is ‘overdue’ an earthquake that could kill 100 people. Jake Wallis Simons reveals what to do to stay alive (click on the “i” in the top right corner for captions)

Picture the scene: a hotel room in London. You hear a noise like a train, or thunder, or a convoy of tanks. Furniture is beginning to vibrate across the floor. Suddenly things get very violent.

James Shepperd-Barron, professional survivalist, points a finger at me. “What do you do?” I get up from where I’m sitting on the bed. “You’d be flung across the room by now,” says Shepperd-Barron, before I speak. “You’d be slammed against the wall. A friend of mine had his gold tooth shaken out by vibrations in Indonesia.”

What I should be doing, I learn, is crawling under a “load-bearing beam”. Failing that, I should get into the corner of the room, or lie down next to the bed; bits of ceiling falling on a bed often form a triangular-shaped hollow beside it.

And what of more everyday threats? Shepperd-Barron has an answer for every potential disaster. From marauding dogs to gun-toting terrorists, here’s a selection of his ultimate survival tips:

Read the full article on the Times website (subject to paywall restrictions)

In 1977, in a bar in Vancouver, two brothers, Stephen and Tom Osborne, were drinking with a group of friends. The conversation turned to authors such as Voltaire and Kerouac, who were said to have written iconic novels in mere days. The whisky flowed. At closing time, filled with Dutch courage, each promised to return three days later having written a novel of his own.

Thus began the “3 Day Novel Contest”, the deformed left foot of the literary world. Over the years it has attracted a range of madcap entrants, including a man who wrote his novel up a tree, people who wrote their novels live on reality TV and a woman who twice — twice — entered in her final month of pregnancy. This year I decide to enter. Like most novelists, my output is ordinarily 1,000-3,000 words a day. Under the rules I have to write 45,000 words in three days. What could possibly go wrong?

Read the full article on the Times website (subject to paywall restrictions)

Read the first chapter of Jake’s 3 Day Novel.

One of life's last few guilty pleasures?

Let’s not play silly buggers. You do it, I know you do. Probably more than once a week. Everyone’s at it, including, as you’ll see overleaf, celebrity chefs. Yep, there’s no doubt about it; eating in front of the telly is one of life’s last few guilty pleasures. And according to food critic Jay Rayner, it should stay that way.

“The whole point of TV dinners is that they’re taboo,” says the foodie in a sonorous baritone. “If you took away the guilt, there’d be no pleasure either.”

So let’s celebrate the great British tradition of taking one’s victuals — guiltily — before the Forbidden Temple. What is so seductive about the combination of TV and dinner? One’s a delicate activity that requires concentration if you’re not going to make a mess of your shirt. The other is life’s biggest distraction. If you had to explain it to a Martian, you’d have a hard time. “I think it takes us back to our childhood,” Rayner explains. “Kids with flu are always allowed to eat in front of the telly. It’s a comfort blanket.”

Read the full article on the Times website (subject to paywall restrictions)

NB: An English translation of this piece, which appeared on an American website, is available here.

ISRAELE-DOPO-BANKSY Animali e rabbini giganti, semplici tag e ritratti di donne kamikaze: centinaia di chilometri di muro sono diventati tavole su cui disegnare sogni di pace e messaggi di guerra

di Jake Wallis Simons

Portano i pantaloni a vita bassa, da cui spunta l’elastico delle mutande. Ostentano tatuaggi, strafottenza e cappellini da baseball, mentre dipingono un murale con un rabbino alto tre metri.

Da una settimana, sotto l’incandescente sole israeliano, tastiamo il polso politico di questa regione attraverso i suoi graffiti e l’arte urbana. Da quando, cinque anni fa, Banksy dipinse la famosa barriera di separazione, sui muri del paese c’è stata un’esplosione di colore. Artisti internazionali accanto ad altri nati qui, opere sofisticate e creazioni amatoriali. Le scritte sui muri di Israele e Palestina offrono una prospettiva unica – spesso sorprendente – delle speranze e delle battaglie della popolazione locale. Il nostro viaggio inizia da Sderot, città assediata al confine con la striscia di Gaza tristemente nota per essere l’obiettivo preferito dei razzi sparati da Hamas. Qui è tutto costruito in cemento armato, pareti che diventano tavole da disegnare, dipingere e verniciare per i ragazzi con i pantaloni a vita bassa: quelli di A4I (Artists for Israel), una crew americana che usa i graffiti per rallegrare i rifugi (che in caso di allarme i cittadini di Sderot devono raggiungere in 15 secondi, al massimo). “La guerra è finita mesi fa, ma gli attacchi continuano almeno una volta alla settimana”, spiega Jacob Shrybman, portavoce di Sderot Media Centre. “E i ragazzi di A4I con il loro lavoro ci danno la forza per andare avanti, dimostrandoci che non siamo stati dimenticati”. Read the rest of this entry »