Apparently, this is the winner of "Best Music Video of the Decade" award by someone or other.
Which is nice, because I rather like it.
Let that be an appetite whetter for LeDuc's Best Films of the Decade, coming shortly.
Well, not so shortly, actually, but sometime before January is out. Promise.
Monday, 28 December 2009
Going for Goldin
I have but one image of this natural lovely, but, so lovely is he, I think he deserves a post all to himself (click to enlarge):
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I don't know where to begin praising him, from his delightful chest hair to his exuberant forest of bushy pubes, from that exquisite long-snouted foreskin to the vulnerability of his Caravaggio-esque pose... While it's true that his winkle is a little butch for my tastes, there's no denying the power of the intriguing contrast between his manly, chubby man-parts and his angelic boy-face.
I trimmed the photo for posting, but then thought I ought to let you see the unedited version:
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It's a study in student hovelly digs, and almost a "how not to" in any book of photographic composition. In fact, it's so bad it almost becomes good, in a crappy Nan Goldin sort of way.
In reality, little could distract us from the beauty of him. Yeah, very tasty.
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I don't know where to begin praising him, from his delightful chest hair to his exuberant forest of bushy pubes, from that exquisite long-snouted foreskin to the vulnerability of his Caravaggio-esque pose... While it's true that his winkle is a little butch for my tastes, there's no denying the power of the intriguing contrast between his manly, chubby man-parts and his angelic boy-face.
I trimmed the photo for posting, but then thought I ought to let you see the unedited version:
.jpg)
It's a study in student hovelly digs, and almost a "how not to" in any book of photographic composition. In fact, it's so bad it almost becomes good, in a crappy Nan Goldin sort of way.
In reality, little could distract us from the beauty of him. Yeah, very tasty.
Small work of art
Here's a short film you might enjoy (9 minutes):
Well, the Asian guy with the beard, anyway...
Small Penis from Espen Hobbesland on Vimeo.
Well, the Asian guy with the beard, anyway...
A fistful of memories
I stumbled across a small but exquisite cache of British Railways (sic) modernisation photos on someone's Flickr site.
That line-up shows what became known as Class 21 locomotives at Stirling, in central Scotland, in 1964. The Class 21s were wildly unsuccessful -- hopelessly unreliable and underpowered. They were sent to Scotland to see if they could be made to work better there. They could not.
Equally unsuccessful to start off with was the Brush Type 2 -- one is seen here in 1961 at Stratford Depot, East Anglia being their main home:
These Type 2s became known as the Class 30, but none of those survive: their engines were so disastrously unreliable that they all had to be replaced by an engine from a different manufacturer -- at which point they became Class 31s (and one or two of them are still at work):
That was one of two Class 30s delivered in experimental liveries -- that one in golden ochre, about to take over a Birmingham to Yarmouth train at March station in 1963. Which was appropriate, since that service was introduced by the M&GN, whose locomotives were all painted in golden ochre...
Saving the best til last, this is an English Electric Type 3 -- later known as the Class 37 -- which can lay claim to being the most successful of BR's first generation designs.
Some are still in regular use on the network nearly 50 years after they were first introduced, the Class 37 became the standard BR design for Type 3 traction (roughly 1500-1750hp), and successive repeat orders led to it becoming the second most numerous class of mainline modern traction.
That line-up shows what became known as Class 21 locomotives at Stirling, in central Scotland, in 1964. The Class 21s were wildly unsuccessful -- hopelessly unreliable and underpowered. They were sent to Scotland to see if they could be made to work better there. They could not.
Equally unsuccessful to start off with was the Brush Type 2 -- one is seen here in 1961 at Stratford Depot, East Anglia being their main home:
These Type 2s became known as the Class 30, but none of those survive: their engines were so disastrously unreliable that they all had to be replaced by an engine from a different manufacturer -- at which point they became Class 31s (and one or two of them are still at work):
That was one of two Class 30s delivered in experimental liveries -- that one in golden ochre, about to take over a Birmingham to Yarmouth train at March station in 1963. Which was appropriate, since that service was introduced by the M&GN, whose locomotives were all painted in golden ochre...
Saving the best til last, this is an English Electric Type 3 -- later known as the Class 37 -- which can lay claim to being the most successful of BR's first generation designs.
Some are still in regular use on the network nearly 50 years after they were first introduced, the Class 37 became the standard BR design for Type 3 traction (roughly 1500-1750hp), and successive repeat orders led to it becoming the second most numerous class of mainline modern traction.
Sunday, 27 December 2009
Insecurity
Perhaps tragically, I imagine that when other people go on holiday a scenario such as this might play itself out.
Cute but listless chap, wanders down to the beach and hopes for something exciting to happen.
Disappointed, he realises he must make his own entertainment.
Before you know it -- Hey, Poncho!
A sybaritic afternoon (or possibly eternity -- what do I know?) then ensues.
A bit like the Anglican version of Heaven, I'm a bit hazy about what goes on up there -- clouds, harps, people dressed in white shifts or mou-mous, hanging around, er, well, that's about it, really.
But maybe none of that matters: maybe, like in this photosequence, the most important bit is just getting there.
Cute but listless chap, wanders down to the beach and hopes for something exciting to happen.
Disappointed, he realises he must make his own entertainment.
Before you know it -- Hey, Poncho!
A sybaritic afternoon (or possibly eternity -- what do I know?) then ensues.
A bit like the Anglican version of Heaven, I'm a bit hazy about what goes on up there -- clouds, harps, people dressed in white shifts or mou-mous, hanging around, er, well, that's about it, really.
But maybe none of that matters: maybe, like in this photosequence, the most important bit is just getting there.
Cosy catastrophes
You'll know by now of my adolescent enjoyment of the cosy catastrophe novels of John Wyndham. They are largely unfilmable, but that doesn't seem to stop anyone: the BBC has commissioned a two-parter of The Day of the Triffids, screening on 28/29 December. A trio of trailers proves my point:
Sacrilege! And it perfectly proves my point: I mean, who thought you could make a moving plant scary?
Will I be watching? You betcha.
Sacrilege! And it perfectly proves my point: I mean, who thought you could make a moving plant scary?
Will I be watching? You betcha.
More, more, more
Since no-one expressed any great enthusiasm for my recent post of my own photographic art, I thought you ought to have a bit more. This stuff can grow on you...?
Most of the images were, you'll recall, taken in London in 1995 or thereabouts.
The idea -- entirely novel, of course -- was to focus more on the detailed elements of the city, the grouting, as it were, rather than the grand architectural statements.
Although clearly I utterly failed to stick to my own brief.
I was particularly taken with plastic decorative elements -- sculptures and signage, for instance.
And I had a rather creepy, Goth-like enthusiasm for a good memorial.
This is a detail of a building in which I lived for the rest of the 1990s:
No, not in all of it, obviously. But then I found out Janet Street-Porter lived just around the corner, so I had to move.
That last was in Edinburgh. Bonus points for the smarty-pants Sassenach (Scots are disqualified) who can name the Scot with whom it's most commonly associated.
Most of the images were, you'll recall, taken in London in 1995 or thereabouts.
The idea -- entirely novel, of course -- was to focus more on the detailed elements of the city, the grouting, as it were, rather than the grand architectural statements.
Although clearly I utterly failed to stick to my own brief.
I was particularly taken with plastic decorative elements -- sculptures and signage, for instance.
And I had a rather creepy, Goth-like enthusiasm for a good memorial.
This is a detail of a building in which I lived for the rest of the 1990s:
No, not in all of it, obviously. But then I found out Janet Street-Porter lived just around the corner, so I had to move.
That last was in Edinburgh. Bonus points for the smarty-pants Sassenach (Scots are disqualified) who can name the Scot with whom it's most commonly associated.
Wednesday, 23 December 2009
I'm off
Ending the year as I began it, with a whimper rather than a bang...
Am off for a few days, so no more posting from me for about a week.
I should also tell you that posting will then be very intermittent until at least half-way through January.
Apologies for the silence (it's tiresome and unavoidable family duties which are keeping us apart).
"Duties"... did you get it?!
How will you manage without me? I'm sure you'll figure something out...
But when I return, you'll have not just my world-famous "Best Films of 2009" to look forward to, but my soon-to-be world-famous "Best Films Of The First Decade of the New Millennium", too.
Happy holidays!
Am off for a few days, so no more posting from me for about a week.
I should also tell you that posting will then be very intermittent until at least half-way through January.
Apologies for the silence (it's tiresome and unavoidable family duties which are keeping us apart).
"Duties"... did you get it?!
How will you manage without me? I'm sure you'll figure something out...
But when I return, you'll have not just my world-famous "Best Films of 2009" to look forward to, but my soon-to-be world-famous "Best Films Of The First Decade of the New Millennium", too.
Happy holidays!
Tuesday, 22 December 2009
Chesty
Santiago Cabrera is a fine, upstanding actor, who came to a -- in my view -- very premature end in Heroes.
I wanted to spend the next few years staring into his deep and lovely Venezuelan eyes, but was cruelly thwarted by the exigencies of some ridiculous plot point or other. Damn them.
So imagine my surprise and delight when he suddenly turned up as a guest in one episode of Merlin, playing -- who else? -- Lancelot, the Sex God of Arthurian Knights of the Round Table, his magical mane of hair...
I ought to point out that some deluded people think Merlin is a programme for kiddies, but it is not.
It is, in fact, Art. And Great Art, at that.
While disappointed that he was only appearing in one episode, Santiago gives good Cabrera. I think it's fairly obvious what I spent the entire episode focused on...
But for the slower kids at the back of the class...
Welling up... Nothing else to say... Oh My Sweet Jesus...
(Click that last image to enlarge. If you dare.)
I wanted to spend the next few years staring into his deep and lovely Venezuelan eyes, but was cruelly thwarted by the exigencies of some ridiculous plot point or other. Damn them.
So imagine my surprise and delight when he suddenly turned up as a guest in one episode of Merlin, playing -- who else? -- Lancelot, the Sex God of Arthurian Knights of the Round Table, his magical mane of hair...
I ought to point out that some deluded people think Merlin is a programme for kiddies, but it is not.
It is, in fact, Art. And Great Art, at that.
While disappointed that he was only appearing in one episode, Santiago gives good Cabrera. I think it's fairly obvious what I spent the entire episode focused on...
But for the slower kids at the back of the class...
Welling up... Nothing else to say... Oh My Sweet Jesus...
(Click that last image to enlarge. If you dare.)
A time for giving
I am indebted to an immensely kind reader who sent me this delightful gift:
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"Joey", for it is he (the model, I mean, not the reader), is all lovely yumminess.
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And that's what Christmas is about, really, I would have said.
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Well, that and re-runs of Victoria Wood sketch shows, and she is a Goddess of the Highest Order, so I am unable to sully her name by trolling about her on here.
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Except that I just did, of course. Er...
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Let's draw a veil over that and focus, instead, on Joey's sausage dumplings.
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Bugger: now I can't get Acorn Antiques out of my head.
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Still, there are worse things to suffer from at Christmas.
.jpg)
"Joey", for it is he (the model, I mean, not the reader), is all lovely yumminess.
.jpg)
And that's what Christmas is about, really, I would have said.
.jpg)
Well, that and re-runs of Victoria Wood sketch shows, and she is a Goddess of the Highest Order, so I am unable to sully her name by trolling about her on here.
.jpg)
Except that I just did, of course. Er...
.jpg)
Let's draw a veil over that and focus, instead, on Joey's sausage dumplings.
.jpg)
Bugger: now I can't get Acorn Antiques out of my head.
.jpg)
Still, there are worse things to suffer from at Christmas.
A herd of EMU
This is (probably) a type of electric multiple unit known as a 4CEP.
I wrote "probably" because there are lots of similar-looking types and they're very tricky to tell apart. But, assuming I'm right, this is the type of emu that model train manufacturers Bachmann have just started producing.
This has been something of a breakthrough in the UK model train market since emus traditionally haven't sold well (and therefore haven't been produced by the manufacturers). Bachmann are taking a brave punt.
It seems to have paid off because, before the model of the 4CEP had appeared, pre-sales were so promising that Bachmann announced a second emu -- this, a 2EPB (are you keeping up?).
Both types of emu were designed by the Southern Region of British Railways, and introduced from the mid-1950s (and the last of them was only taken out of service in 2005: emus have very long lives).
It looks like this was a shrewd move on Bachmann's part: Hornby has spent the last few years building a strong market for models of Southern steam engines and carriages (the region until now has traditionally been the worst-served of all the four main Group areas), and Bachmann now gets a slice of the action.
CEPs were an express passenger unit, each consisting of 4 carriages, while EPBs were suburban stock, designed to move large numbers of commuters relatively short distances.
Hornby, if rumours are to be believed, is about to announce its own entry into this market: a 4VEP:
VEPs were outer suburban and semi-fast stock for longer-haul routes. Because they were dealing with large passenger volumes they, like the EPBs, have numerous doors down each side of the carriage -- and like all their brethren they are known generically as "slam-door stock".
I'm delighted. These three types were typical of the Southern Region, and for two decades they ploughed the 3rd rail lines in their blue and grey (occasionally, in the mid-1960s, all-over blue) liveries. They are a fixed part of my visual memory.
Which is not to say I wouldn't have preferred Hornby to announce one of these -- a 2BIL designed in the 1930s for long-haul semi-fast services. They have a quirky character that, somehow, the BR(SR) units don't quite achieve. But let's not be greedy, eh?
[In case you're curious, Hornby announce their new range for the year ahead at 00.01 hours on Christmas Day. Check out www.hornby.com. You can find out then if I'm right!]
I wrote "probably" because there are lots of similar-looking types and they're very tricky to tell apart. But, assuming I'm right, this is the type of emu that model train manufacturers Bachmann have just started producing.
This has been something of a breakthrough in the UK model train market since emus traditionally haven't sold well (and therefore haven't been produced by the manufacturers). Bachmann are taking a brave punt.
It seems to have paid off because, before the model of the 4CEP had appeared, pre-sales were so promising that Bachmann announced a second emu -- this, a 2EPB (are you keeping up?).
Both types of emu were designed by the Southern Region of British Railways, and introduced from the mid-1950s (and the last of them was only taken out of service in 2005: emus have very long lives).
It looks like this was a shrewd move on Bachmann's part: Hornby has spent the last few years building a strong market for models of Southern steam engines and carriages (the region until now has traditionally been the worst-served of all the four main Group areas), and Bachmann now gets a slice of the action.
CEPs were an express passenger unit, each consisting of 4 carriages, while EPBs were suburban stock, designed to move large numbers of commuters relatively short distances.
Hornby, if rumours are to be believed, is about to announce its own entry into this market: a 4VEP:
VEPs were outer suburban and semi-fast stock for longer-haul routes. Because they were dealing with large passenger volumes they, like the EPBs, have numerous doors down each side of the carriage -- and like all their brethren they are known generically as "slam-door stock".
I'm delighted. These three types were typical of the Southern Region, and for two decades they ploughed the 3rd rail lines in their blue and grey (occasionally, in the mid-1960s, all-over blue) liveries. They are a fixed part of my visual memory.
Which is not to say I wouldn't have preferred Hornby to announce one of these -- a 2BIL designed in the 1930s for long-haul semi-fast services. They have a quirky character that, somehow, the BR(SR) units don't quite achieve. But let's not be greedy, eh?
[In case you're curious, Hornby announce their new range for the year ahead at 00.01 hours on Christmas Day. Check out www.hornby.com. You can find out then if I'm right!]
Sunday, 20 December 2009
If you go down to the woods today...
This may well be one of the more absurd photosequences I have posted here.
Assuming, of course, that you take trains as seriously as I do.
Assuming you do, this sequence is just mental.
It's a weird mixture of tacky Hallowe'en costumes and no-budget movies...
...mixed with a bit of overheated gay man's fantasy...
...and some bizarre sort of fetish.
Despite that, there is something rather jolly about it all.
Like a ribald seaside postcard (God, that makes me sound old. How many people under 30 have actually ever sent a seaside postcard?)...
...like a ribald seaside postcard, this sequence is more about the laughs than the eroticism.
Although, strangely, I find myself drawn to our endangered hero.
Pert wee winkie, even if he has been a bit over-shaved.
Yep, all things considered, I think that was one of my best-ever posts. Oh, yes.
Assuming, of course, that you take trains as seriously as I do.
Assuming you do, this sequence is just mental.
It's a weird mixture of tacky Hallowe'en costumes and no-budget movies...
...mixed with a bit of overheated gay man's fantasy...
...and some bizarre sort of fetish.
Despite that, there is something rather jolly about it all.
Like a ribald seaside postcard (God, that makes me sound old. How many people under 30 have actually ever sent a seaside postcard?)...
...like a ribald seaside postcard, this sequence is more about the laughs than the eroticism.
Although, strangely, I find myself drawn to our endangered hero.
Pert wee winkie, even if he has been a bit over-shaved.
Yep, all things considered, I think that was one of my best-ever posts. Oh, yes.
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