V was in the kitchen, me and the kids too. She was cutting a banana for Seth – giving him one half for breakfast and putting the other one aside for later.

Sometime later I’m headed to the fruit bowl, looking for stuff for my own (slightly later!) breakfast. Lying there in the bowl amongst the bananas, kiwis, mango and apples is the sharpest knife I have.

I say er what’s this doing here in the fruit bowl?

V says she thought she was putting the banana there and the knife by the cutting board.

When I look over there, on the other side of the room, right by the cutting board the half-a-bannana is lain carefully in place like the knife should be.

*

For some reason (very likely my own impotence and helplessness in the face of what continues to happen) I ask my friend Tony in Beirut ‘if there is anything I can do’. [weiter…]

This was in one of my spam emails this morning.. Amongst the various well-known sayings and aphorisms they often put at the bottom of a message in an attempt to get it past the spam filters… I never heard this saying before. But rather liked it. For the brutality at least.

I guess I ‘liked it’ too in the particular moment of this summer in which I’m developing again that morbid habit of reading/checking the online newspapers too much and too often. I seem to know this practice, which for me goes with the escalation of wars, rather too well from the last few years and now I’m back at it again as Israel goes crazy in the Lebanon. [weiter…]

A nice quote from from Bill Viola in yesterdays Guardian.
“I’ve been working on a 3D virtual world project for a while. We were looking at some models of spaces and how you move through them, and it occurred to me, after seeing countless demos, that there was not a speck of dirt anywhere. You’d walk through and you didnt leave footprints. I wanted to have dirt in my world, but the guy said: “We dont have enough memory for that.”

Again, this probably fits well to my immediate interests since the novel I’m working on describes an imaginary computer game. [weiter…]

I am washing up, just a couple of things left. In the sink there’s a small yoghurt pot that I have just rinsed so I can place it in the bag by the bin that is for recycling plastic and glass. In my hand there’s a solitary spoon that I am also rinsing under the running tap. Somehow ‘confusing’ these two objects (the spoon and the yoghurt pot – holding one and thinking about the other?) I start to move away from the sink, shifting my weight to turn towards the recycling bag, with the spoon in my hand as if I were intent on recycling it. [weiter…]