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URL: http://londonmark.blogspot.com/
<h> londonmark
<h> searching for intelligent life in camden town
<h> (the search now continues in new york city)
<h> Wednesday, January 11, 2006
<p> Sieve-like, or approximating a colander
I keep forgetting to mention it, but I should point out that I'm over
here now.
<p> Mark
<h> Thursday, November 10, 2005
<h> Leaving Messages
<p> He walks into the flat and drops the leather briefcase against the
table. His keys go in the bowl full of spare change, frequently
plundered for parking meter quarters. The light on the answering
machine is blinking and he hits the button as he walks into the
kitchen, tugging the knot of his tie out and away from his neck and
undoing the top buttons.
<p> "Mike, its your Dad" he hears as he reaches into the fridge for some
OJ. "Wondered if you saw the game. What poor defending, eh? There were
more offsides than... well. Give me a call son, I'm thinking about
you. Wondering what you want for Christmas. Talk to you soon. Bye."
<p> BEEP
<p> "Hi Mike, its me, Sophie... well of course its me, who else would it
be? I didn't get the role but don't worry, the bastards won't grind me
down, I'll get right back out there and find another. My shift is nine
till two tonight so you'll need to make your own dinner. Aarnon says
they're casting for the next Spiderman and I could maybe make it as
someone called Gwen Stacy, is that good? Does she have a good
back-story? See you later hon."
<p> BEEP
<p> "Mike. Mike... pick up Mike. Mike? Mike, stop being a dick and pick
up. Okay, either you're still pissed or you're not there. Are you
still pissed? Pick up. Stop being so damned immature and... look, if
you're there you're being a pissy little immature kid about this whole
thing. If you're not... call me when you get this message, k? See you
at the next game? I swear you can have the spare tickets next game.
Next game, promise, k? Bye."
<p> BEEP
<p> "Mike, its D, I realise we haven't spoken in something like four
months, not since you skipped the pond and set up in New York. Hope
things are going well for you, I don't see you around anymore buddy,
guessing you're okay and just, y'know, adjusting to new life and
settling in and making your way in the world and looking for that
special bar where everyone's gonna know your name. Life's different
without you. Caught the Tim Burton movie in Camden last night and
thought of you. Anyway, well, you're probably busy with life and
everything so I won't bug you any longer. Oh, and by the way, you left
me the login to your site."
<p> BEEP
<p> Mark
<h> Monday, August 29, 2005
<h> On navigation
<p> blocks to Baddabing Square, where you can catch the 2, 9, -5.2 or µ
lines to West Oblong Street. There, you can change to the A, Ø, or ß
local lines going south by southeasterly, unless you want the express,
in which case you have to do a small dance invoking the spirit of Loki
while showering the platform with fresh jasmine. Then you take the XX
(between 6.16am and 6.27am) or XY (all other times) lines to
Nixon/Agnew. Leave the station by levitating then walk about nineteen
blocks to Weltanschauung Plaza. I'll see you there in about 15
minutes, yeah?"
<p> Mark
<h> Tuesday, August 16, 2005
<p> On departure, arrival and points between
22 hours awake may still be playing havoc with my system (mainly
mental, it has to be admitted), but considering I'm operating in two
time zones simultaneously and I can't do even the most basic
arithmetic, I am judging this to be a 'not-too-bad' show on my part.
For those who like post-match analysis: here we go, sports fans.
<h> 0500 UK
<p> Wake, pack, call for cab.
<h> 0700 UK
<p> Stand in line at VAT refunds desk.
<h> 0800 UK
<p> Get to VAT refunds desk to be told that there will be no money for me
today. Curse silently under breath.
<h> 1015 UK
<p> Get on flight, having endured two searches, one statistical survey on
behalf of BAA, and having opened up my computer to prove that it is,
after all, a computer and not some new kind of portable global
killer-death-ray machine.
<h> 1016 UK
<p> Realise that although I will be tired, I will also not be able to
sleep at all. A small infant in first class, a few seats in front of
us, decides to underline my sleeplessness by choosing sporadic and
seemingly random moments to cry incredibly loudly.
<h> 1845 UK
<p> Land at JFK.
<h> 1346 US
<p> Adjust watch.
<h> 1500 US
<p> Wait in line for cab, having sailed successfully through passport
control and their cunning "press your index finger here, press your
other index finger here, press your third index finger here - gotcha!"
tests.
<h> 1545 US
<p> Get to new apartment. Look at it. Really look at it. Wait for a
moment. Decide that I really do quite like it.
<h> 1600 US
<p> Go to Bloomingdales for pillowcases. Realise that there are more
floors here than at my old company's office building. This takes me
aback.
<h> 1630 US
<p> Fatigue beginning to creep over me, combined with a renewed annoyance
that all US banknotes/bills are the same size and colour/color.
<h> 1700 US
<p> Discover where local grocery store is located. Discover that there is
a bar nearby. Consider carefully which is more urgent. Go to bar.
<h> 1830 US
<p> Leave bar, having watched Jeopardy! for no good reason.
<h> 1900 US
<p> Go to grocery store. Wander aisles trying to work out what all the
strange names actually mean, while searching in vain for Ariel, Fairy
Liquid or any other product I have previously heard of. Fail,
miserably.
<h> 1910 US
<p> Hear female UK accent for first time in NYC. Turn around to see that
it is Rosamund Pike, an actress who appeared in the last Bond film.
For unknown reason, this seems to me to be more exciting than moving
country. Quickly reassess priorities.
<h> 2000 US
<p> Unpack shopping, wander around new apartment building to discover the
gym. Mentally erase gym's location from memory, as it will never be
needed.
<h> 2100 US
<p> Go to local Italian restaurant for dinner and wine.
<h> 2101 US
<p> Realise that body functions and limbs are currently shutting down one
by one in a random order.
<h> 2102 US
<p> Have wine. Body responds keenly to alcholic stimulus. Close call.
<h> 2200 US
<p> Return home and go to bed.
<p> Mark
<h> Friday, August 12, 2005
<p> On how moving house adversely affects the intellect
<p> Me: "Have you seen the labels on the sides of the packing boxes?"
<p> Not Me: "Yes, why?"
<p> Me: "Did you read them?"
<p> Not Me: "Yes, why?"
<p> Me: "Well, they read 'SEA to NYC', don't they?"
<p> Not Me: "Yes."
<p> Me: "Does that mean Seattle?"
<p> Not Me: "No."
<p> Me: "Well, what does 'SEA' stand for? Super-expedited airfreight?"
<p> Not Me: (staring in disbelief)
<p> Me: "Okay, then, what do the letters mean?"
<p> Not Me: "They are going by sea."
<p> Me: "Oh."
<p> Not Me: (continued stares of disbelief)
Mark
<h> Wednesday, August 03, 2005
<p> On patience, and the potential reward gained
Or how I learned to just sit down and shut up.
<h> 0729
<p> Blink awake, just before alarm sounds. Wonder who, what and where I
am. When answer begins to form slowly, alarm sounds, sending my into
state of existential panic. Try to get self together.
<h> 0731
<p> First cigarette of day. Consider making coffee. Dismiss, because
sounds too much like hard work. Breakfast news on TV. Ignoring it.
<h> 0737
<p> Shave carefully. Still cut myself. Damn. Ouch.
<h> 0747
<p> Second cigarette. Wonder exactly where Marlboro County is located and
wonder if smoking is mandatory by law there.
<h> 0748
<p> Run around panicking that paperwork has not been completed. Read
paperwork for the 3,756th time. Calm down slightly.
<h> 0801
<p> Leave flat, withdraw life savings from bank to pay for application
processing. Wait for bus.
<h> 0802
<p> Get fed up waiting for bus and hail cab.
<h> 0835
<p> Arrive at embassy, get out of cab, have half a cigarette. Show
passport to lady controlling the queue, show passport to security
guard, show passport to metal detector guy, show passport to bag X-ray
guy, show passport to desk clerk, show passport to small blackbird who
landed on the steps. Realise that I am not a person, I am a nine-digit
number and an appointment time. Strangely, this does not depress me
beyond measure.
<h> 0842
<p> Take number. I am 158. They are currently calling number 004. "I may
be some time."
<h> 0900
<p> My appointment is in 15 minutes time. They have reached number 016.
Reach into bag for iPod, only to be reminded that no electronic
equipment is permitted in this area. As well as no smoking, no
thinking, no talking and limited breathing (if approved by officials).
Embassies are no fun.
<h> 0915
<p> Appointment time. Only kidding. Back to The Complete Sherlock Holmes.
Could do with a cigarette.
<h> 0948
<p> Several alarms bells start ringing. All the embassy tellers close
their counters and move - I suppose - to their reinforced bunker deep
underground. None of the applicants budge an inch. Several of them
remain asleep through all the alarm noise.
<h> 0953
<p>Alarm bells stop ringing. Embassy tellers return. Distinct lack of
panic.
<h> 1024
<p> Boredom beyond measure.
<h> 1056
<p> Still bored.
<h> 1113
<p> Think they just called my name. Go to counter 13. Lady standing in
front of me. Turns out it wasn't my name. Not even close. Walk back to
the waiting area debating to self about the pitfalls of wishful
thinking. Could really, really do with a cigarette.
<h> 1149
<p> Wonder if Dr Watson treated any patients at all and how he didn't go
out of business. Think about whether he could have been the Coroner
for Marlboro County. Realise I am merging Sherlock Holmes stories, CSI
and a cigarette advertisement into one. Think about pitching new TV
show. Then realise it's rubbish.
<h> 1151
<p> They call 158. I bound up to the counter. Embassy official asks
questions. I answer them. I put my left index finger, then my right
index finger on the scanner. It doesn't make any of the cool noises I
associate with fingerprint scanners in the movies. We end up talking
about the first Matrix movie. Faintly bizarre.
<h> 1154
<p>Interview over, visa granted, told to pay money at the accounts desk.
Then told to get out.
<h> 1159
<p> Back on the street. Fourth cigarette. Think about booking flights.
Think about breakfast. Quickly prioritise. Wait for bus back home.
Mark
<h> Tuesday, August 02, 2005
<p> On being prepared for an important interview
Thank you for attending. There are just a few ground rules I think we
need to establish before you go for your interview. Standard things,
really, nothing to worry about. Firstly, remember to wear a suit and
tie. And shoes. And underwear. Socks are good too, as is a shirt.
Basically, go fully dressed. The embassy are less likely to approve
your request if you arrive in states of semi-dress, partial dress or,
indeed, full undress. Especially as they will have nowhere to clip
your security pass that you would want a security pass to be clipped
to. Those safety pins can sting, you know.
<p> We've asked around your office, for background information about you,
and we were wondering if you could be a little bit less ... well, you.
We're not saying that you should lie in your interview, at least not
factually, but you should perhaps be aware that when you answer
questions, you should resist any urges you might have to
overelaborate.
<p> A good start is to give your name properly when asked to do so at the
beginning of the interview. We have a list of answers to this
seemingly simple question which the embassy do not regard as
legitimate responses:
<l> * Who the man? Me the man.
<l> * Whoever you want me to be, baby.
<l> * Who am I? Who the hell are you?
<l> * King Zog of Albania
<l> * I am woman, hear me roar.
<p> Please resist the temptation to give these or any other of the
prohibited answers. We'll give you the list when you leave. Now this
next point applies to all of the questions you will be asked. Answer
directly, simply and honestly, without attempting to bring your
personality, such as it is, into the matter. For example, how would
you answer the question, "Have you ever been involved in terrorism?"
<p> (muffled response)
<p> You see, that's precisely the sort of thing we need to cut out.
Embassy officials do not have any sense of humour, at least not one
officially recognised by the State Department or by Her Majesty's
Foreign and Commonwealth Office. They will not appreciate a
water-shooting flower in your lapel, they will look unkindly upon a
concealed electric buzzer in your palm when you shake their hand and
they especially dislike stink bombs. Or any other bombs. In fact, all
other bombs.
<p> You may be under the impression that your sarcasm will be interpreted
as wit, perhaps charm, perhaps even the self-deprecating and
worldly-wise bon mots of a subtle, dry satirist. This impression is
wrong. Whatever amusement you intend will be heard only as "I am
annoying, please reject my application". At best, they will attribute
your verbal incontinence as evidence of nervousness, at worst it will
be decided that you are trying to hide something, be it state secrets,
a murky and troubled past, or possibly explosives concealed around
your person.
<p> A further note about your answers. Please remember that at no point
during the interview should you question the patriotism of the embassy
officials. They do not appreciate being called Communists. They
dislike this quite intensely.
<p> (muffled enquiry)
<p>No, you are expressly forbidden from stating, as you put it, 'You,
sir, are not a patriot'.
<p> (muffled response)
<p> Expressly forbidden.
<p> As to other matters, you should remember that your bag will be
searched as you enter the building and you may be asked to show the
contents of your bag at any time during your wait there. It would be
advisable for you to clear out any, shall we say, materials of an
unusual or sensitive nature before you attend. We have a prohibited
list for you to take away and read; sorry for the cigarette burn in
the corner, that was made by one of our less successful candidates.
<p> Body language in your interview is very important, as the consular
officers will be watching you for any sign of misplaced stress,
nerves, or even major psychological disorders. Flapping your arms
around your face to rid yourself from the invisible flies in front of
you will not create a good impression. Speaking in tongues is likewise
ill-advised, as is any attempt to convert your interviewer to any new
religion where you are the godhead.
<p> One last point to recall is that Marines will be stationed at the
embassy and they have orders to shoot first, shoot second, consider
some more shooting and then fax Washington, DC for permission to hire
someone who will ask a question at a future time to be decided, all
while shooting. They should be addressed as 'sir' at all times.
Mark
<h> Monday, August 01, 2005
<p> On the absurdity of filling out long, long forms
Question 38. Pursuant to Section F.2.d(iii) of the attached Compliance
Form 9AA/12, notwithstanding Sub-sections 4, 5, 7, 14(b) and 18,
except when waiver forms NV376, NV421, NV 421i or NV422 are applied,
all applicants must read and check the appropriate box for each item
below.
<h> Is any of the following applicable:
<l> * Have you ever been arrested or convicted for any offense or crime
while wearing inappropriately bright clothing that was (a) not
yours, (b) stolen, (c) in need of a hot wash cycle, (d) belonging
to a member of the opposite sex, (e) Burberry?
<l> * Have you ever wondered if humanity is alone in the universe?
(Note: please use additional page to detail any conclusions
reached.)
<l> * Have you ever unlawfully distributed propaganda deemed by the US
Secretary of State to be inciting penguins to rise up and
overthrow the shackles of their masters through all means
necessary, violent or otherwise?
(Note: incitement of walruses should not be included - please use
form NV419.)
<l> * Have you ever been refused permission in class to go to the
bathroom, despite the fact that you really, really needed to?
<l> * Do you remember the first time?
<l> * Have you ever been the subject of a short film, whether drama,
comedy or documentary, where the budget for said film exceeded USD
28,000 (EUR 23,000, GBP 16,000 or other currency equivalent) and
where the First Assistant Director was in fact the camera guy's
girlfriend from college?
(Note: animated short films do not qualify for an exemption.)
<l> * Have you ever participated in the teasing of a vole, mole, shrew,
otter, weasel, fieldmouse or badger between the months of April
and July?
<l> * Have you ever lost your passport, had your passport stolen, been
party to the loss, theft or forgery of a passport, forged a
passport, forged your passport, forged someone else's passport,
lost someone else's passport, thefted a passforge, passed a theft
port, ported a forge pass or watched that cool bit with the
passports in either (a) The Day of the Jackal or (b) The Bourne
Identity?
<l> * Are you a Nazi?
(Note: the response "Ja, Herr Oberst" may invalidate this
application.)
<l> * Have you ever unlawfully distributed or sold controlled
substances, narcotics or drugs or participated in the procurement
of prostitutes? Because, dude, you gotta! It totally blows your
mind!
<l> * Do you seek to enter this country to engage in seditious behavior,
salacious behavior, suspicious behavior or any other behavior
which would present a clear and present danger to the chances of
your mother ever calling you on your birthday ever again?
<l> * "Ain't life grand?" Discuss.
<l> * Have you ever been afflicted by a disease, physical or mental,
which would present a threat to the public health? How did you get
it? Really? We promise we won't tell anyone, you dirty dog, you.
<l> * Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
(Note: if response is 'Yes', please attach travel itinerary and
estimated value of items for purchase or sale, remembering to keep
all receipts.)
<l> * Have you ever been a recipient of housing benefits, social
security, disability benefits, jobseekers allowance, weekly
allowance, pocket money, loans, lottery wins, Premium Bonds wins,
or have you ever found a five pound note (or other currency
equivalent) in the back pocket of a pair of jeans which you had
meant to wash but left on the bedroom floor for a month until you
realised that nothing else was clean?
(Note: answering yes to any of these will require a separate and
completed Customs Service and Revenue statement.)
<l> * What time is love?
(Note: please provide GMT, Pacific, Mountain, Central and Eastern
times and indicate whether Daylight Savings has been applied.)
<p> General note: While answering 'Yes' to any of these questions does not
automatically signify your ineligibility, any 'Yes' answer may require
you to attend a very long meeting with several consular officers and a
large man named Vinnie who "don't like your face, pretty boy". A fee
of USD 20.00 will be payable for each additional beating. Accepted
payment methods include American Express, Visa, Mastercard and a
first-born child nominated by you or your significant other.
Mark
<h> Thursday, July 07, 2005
<h> Contrasts
<p> I just want to extend my sympathies to the families of those killed
and those who have been injured in today's awful, awful events.
<p> While the radio, TV and internet detail the chaos, I look outside at
Victoria and although the rail station is closed, there is little
evidence to show that this little corner of London has been a victim.
Yesterday and today have shown a contrast which is quite terrible.
<p> Ken Livingstone spoke eloquently today about those responsible:
<p> "They seek to divide London, they seek Londoners to turn against each
other ... this city of London is the greatest in the world because
everybody lives side by side in harmony. Londoners will not be divided
by this cowardly attack."
<p> I hope that's true.
<p> Mark
<h> Thursday, March 31, 2005
<h> Elevation
<p> The lift doors take a final breath before closing and Jason's fingers
slip from their edges, cracking the nail on his index finger in the
process. Almost mockingly, the lift remains on the floor for a few
more seconds, allowing Jason to look, to stare unashamedly through the
metal-framed glass door through at Poppy before the lift bears her
down towards the ground. Her eyes are looking up as the lift descends
and he wonders what's going through her mind. Jason starts to walk
back along the corridor until a thought, a voice, an insistence stops
him.
<p> Slowed down, Jason's thought process could bear scrutiny, as instincts
of which he is scarcely aware stir and combine to move him into
action. He runs across the walkway towards the main doors, fumbling
for his security pass to get back into his office. Halfway across, he
skids to a stop and leans over the balcony to look down for other
lifts. All are on the ground floor, none moving, none rising to meet
him and bring hope. He turns back and runs towards the main doors.
<p>Security pass in hand, he swipes it past the electronic slate which
beeps a denial. Gritting his teeth to prevent himself from swearing
overloudly, Jason swipes the card again. This time the small light
flickers from amber to green and he can hear the small thunk of
magnets releasing. He grabs hold of the door, swings it open and heads
towards a corner staircase. The staircases in the building, four of
them, all need to be accessed with a swipe card and Jason is rejected
by the building's electronic caretakers once more. Again presses the
card to the pad, again he is accepted the second time.
<p>The advertised opulence of the company reception is thrown into
desperate relief by the spartan stairwell which Jason runs down, one
hand on the speckled and cut handrail, the other hand flailing for
balance as he navigates each predictable yet sudden corner. There are
no signs to tell him which floor he has reached, or which half-floor,
no way of assessing his progress as he bounds down the stairs, taking
them two at a time, leaping the final three to the halfway landing and
grabbing the wall partition for support, as a fulcrum, to twist
himself round the next point, gaining momentum, striding longer,
moving faster, urgent. Until he falls.
<p> Poppy leaves the lift at the ground floor and walks towards the
reception desk, remembering that she has to hand in her visitor pass.
A two-hour meeting passed without event as usual, as her two hour
meetings on Wednesdays in this building usually do. She considers
whether to have a coffee despite the fact that she isn't sure whether
she wants one. She looks around, as though someone is watching her, as
though there are questions about her presence, her eligibility to be
in this place at this time. She goes over to the cafe and orders,
remembering that the servers are slow. There is a lingering impulse in
her mind to remain.
<p> Placed on the counter, the mere presence of coffee wakes her up. Poppy
murmurs thanks to the girl behind the counter then moves over to a
free table. To complete the pretence of belonging, she withdraws her
notebook and begins to read the notes from the last meeting,
countering the overriding compulsion to look back at the lifts. She
flips the pages of her notebook back to the beginning, justifying this
as an overview of the entire project, realising that it is an excuse
to stay for longer, wondering whether she has invented something in
her own mind that doesn't exist, outwardly calm and efficient.
<p> A few minutes pass and she realises that she has been moving the
pages, turn by turn, without reading any of them. Her gaze has been
steady, at a midpoint between her notes and the edge of the table;
waiting, hoping, anticipating. A glance at her watch confirms what
Poppy already knows, that this is time borrowed and that she has to
leave. She doesn't bother to drink any more from the coffee she has
only sipped as she picks up the notebook and packs it into her
briefcase, making slow motions. She hands in her security pass at
reception and walks beyond the security gates. Leaving the building,
turning to walk to the station, she allows herself a brief backwards
glance.
<p> While he hopes that the bruise will reduce and fade in time, Jason
knows that he has no time to think about this. First impressions are
past regrets and there is no place for them as he hopes that he has
replaced everything from his pockets and bounds down the final steps
to the ground floor. He barges into the doors with his shoulder,
forgetting the necessity for his security pass, and is rewarded by
falling back on the floor. For the first time today, his pass is
accepted without query and he throws open the door into the broad,
open space of the building's ground floor. He looks towards the
entry/exit gates. He looks towards the lifts. He runs over to the
reception area and looks out onto the street.
<p> Jason runs out onto the street, already defeated when he leaves the
final doors. He stops, pauses, gives up. Head hanging, he starts to
turn when a hand restrains him. Looking up, he sees Poppy, concerned
and vulnerable: porcelain. Looking up at her, he doesn't know what to
say; looking at her as he stands up properly and ready, he doesn't
know what he was doing other than the fact that it was right. Poppy
stands there, wondering why she had the instinct to return, wondering
how she had the nerve to reach over and touch him. She doesn't know
what he's going to say and she's terrified, mortified, waiting for the
inevitable rejection, the horror that could ensue after building up
something so much in her head.
<p> He looks around, as if further inspiration is needed, and stays
silent. Her hand still rests on his forearm. He doesn't know what to
say and neither does she. He takes the initiative and holds her hand.
He clasps it for a moment before telling her that he'll see her at the
next meeting, or words to that purpose. He relinquishes her hand and
goes back through the glass doors into the building. Staring,
unbelieving, Poppy remains. For a moment, for a heartbeat, she remains
where she is, considering the past few minutes, considering the
spectrum of emotions she has coloured, considering everything she
might have felt or possibly still does.
<p> As he reaches the security gates, the receptionist beckons him over.
informing him that he needs to wait for a moment. He asks if there is
a problem with his pass. She says no. He asks whether there is a
problem with the gates, perhaps they are defective and aren't allowing
people access to the building. She says no. He is about to ask another
question when the girl behind the desk points behind him, through the
glass, through those transparent doors and into the street. Poppy
stands there, perhaps on the verge of tears, perhaps considering
coming back into the building.
<p> The girl at reception leans in towards Jason and details his attempts
to get from the fourth floor to the ground. She provides the narrative
of Poppy's timewasting on the ground floor. She advises him that she
won't readmit him to the building until she sees that the girl outside
is ready to leave, one way or another. Jason starts to walk out when
he sees Poppy walking in back in. They meet between glass doors.
Standing apart, they stare and hear the magnetic locks between the
doors slowly close. Poppy admits that she waited for him. Jason admits
that he ran down the stairwells to reach her. Poppy admits, Jason
admits.
<p> They talk for a few minutes or so before the receptionist unlocks the
doors.
<p> Mark