“Old Blogger’s Almanack,

A Big Book Look, and a 2012 Delve..”


What – ho!







Well, Blogfollowers…Happy New Year, and all that; now, I don’t want to alarm you, but… according to this book about the ancient Mayans, we’re all doomed in 2012…

Here’s the ‘blurb’: “2012: The Year of the Mayan Prophecy is a literary and metaphysical epic that binds together the cosmological phenomena of our time, ranging from crop circles to quantum theory to the worldwide resurgence of shamanism, supporting the Mayan prophecy that the year 2012 will bring an unprecedented global shift. In tracing the meaning of the prophetic Mayan 'end date' of 2012 to our present society, Daniel Pinchbeck draws together alien abductions, psychedelic visions, the current ecological crisis and other peculiar aspects of 21st century life into a new vision for our time. 2012 heralds the end of one way of existence and the return of another, in which the Mesoamerican God Quetzalcoatl returns, bringing with him an ancient - yet to us, wholly new - way of living. There are many hints, both in quantum theory and elsewhere, that humanity is precariously balanced between greater self-potential and environmental disaster. Pinchbeck's journey, which takes us from the endangered rainforests of the Amazon to Stonehenge in England, tells the story of a man in whose trials we recognise our own hopes and anxieties about modern life”.

Gosh!

Our old pal Sting liked the book, too: "'An intriguing and deeply personal odyssey of transformation… robust, and original”

Gosh again!






The end of time?


It seems that the ancient Mayans deemed that 2012 would mark the end of recorded time, and didn’t think it be worth prophesying any further…


Gulp!


Our old friend Nostradamus, too, expressed concerns about the forthcoming year… “A great smell will emanate from Lausanne but its origins will be unknown” he writes (although this isn’t mentioned in any of the current travel guides). “People from far away will be put out; fire is seen in the sky, a foreign people is defeated” he goes on, and “The seven branches will become three…the elder ones will be surprised by death. Two will be attracted towards fratricide, the conspirators will die in their sleep.”


Goodness, that is a worry…


Then “At the turning of the great seventh number, it will appear at the time of the games of great public sacrifice” (the Olympics, perhaps?...) and  finally “The dethroned woman will return to her reign, her enemies found amongst the conspirators. More than ever she will rule triumphantly, at seventy-three she will assuredly die.”



Well, that’s all a bit of a worry too…Happily, though – I`ll be alright – I’ve purchased some earmuffs and have laid down some nice new thick carpet in my garden shed, so that should see me through the worst eventualities…


Anyway, in keeping with this theme of foretelling the future, my Research Team have been busy: they’ve polished up the Bexley Library Service Crystal Ball, read the runes, and divined their entrails (I never knew librarians had such guts!) and here’s what they’ve come up with for 2012…






It’ll be a leap year, and the Chinese Year of the Dragon…



On the sporting front, we’ll have the Olympics, of course…Plus the European Football Championships (alas, my researchers can’t foretell whether Wayne Rooney will start play or – indeed – how luxuriant his new hair will be)…


Looking ahead, we’ll be celebrating a cornucopia of historical events – our own dear Queen will be marking her Jubilee (I`m particularly excited about the Thames Cavalcade)…It’ll be 100 years since the Titanic went down, and 200 years since Napoleon’s retreat from Moscow…



On the literary front, we’ll be celebrating Mr Dickens’s 200th birthday, The Hobbit’s 75th, and Adrian Mole’s 30th. What larks!


So, there’s lots to look forward to in 2012, as long as the Mayans were wrong…Enjoy reading all about it with Bex-L and Bexley Libraries!




...(Oh, breaking news, dear readers – sorry, but the proposed Bexley Librarians’ inaugural psychic fair and soothsaying seminar has been cancelled due to unforeseen circumstances…Boom boom!)






TTFN, dear readers, and a Happy New Year!

'Twas the Night before Christmas - a seasonal advent catablog, with clicks to open and bits that pop up!

By (and with apologies to) Clement C Moore 1779-1863





'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house



Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;



The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,



In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;



The children were nestled all snug in their beds,



While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;



And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,



Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,



When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,



I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.



Away to the window I flew like a flash,



Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.



The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow


Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,



When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,



But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,



With a little old driver, so lively and quick,



I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.



More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,



And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;



"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!



On, Comet! on Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!



To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!



Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"



As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,



When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,



So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,



With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.



And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof


The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.



As I drew in my head, and was turning around,



Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.



He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,



And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;



A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,



And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.



His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!



His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!



His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,



And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;



The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,



And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;



He had a broad face and a little round belly,



That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.



He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,



And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;



A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,



Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;



He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,



And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,



And laying his finger aside of his nose,



And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;



He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,



And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.



But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,



"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."

*****

And, dear readers, on behalf of the Blogbrary Editorial Board, his extensive Research Team, and all the Library Elves, can we wish everyone a very happy, peaceful, and joyous Christmas….

TTFN!

LEONARDO v LIBRARIES...

What's the hottest ticket in town?...

The hottest ticket in town?

My research team tell me that tickets for this National Gallery ‘Event of the Decade’ are rarer than hen’s teeth…Only one of them has been granted an ‘access all areas pass’ to visit the show, and he says:


“We went on the first Saturday having bought tickets last March…


I wasn’t sure what to expect. We were at first surprised at how small a lot of the pictures were; sometimes only 8cm x 6cm but the exhibition proved to be utterly fascinating and introduced us to da Vinci’s world and his fascination with different ideas and subjects - his willingness to paint in a revolutionary way and in a style not seen at that time. Leonardo wanted his portraits to evoke a living individual possessed of thought and will.


The exhibition was compelling and thought provoking, and transported us into a sumptuous world that required us to think about beauty and love, religion, character and emotions, anatomy, technical measurements and the importance of detail”….


(The identity of my ‘Secret Shopper’ must remain confidential, dear readers – suffice to say that he – or she – is lightly bearded, and writes in a not dissimilar style to Brian Sewell – who, by the way, has an autobiography out very soon…)






Apparently, dear readers, the queues for tickets are simply ghastly – interminably long and prone to occasional bouts of ‘malpractice’…Why! I’ve even heard reports that £16 tickets have been offered on “a certain online auction facility” at many hundreds of pounds – a price beyond the pockets, even, - alas - of the Blogbrarian…Have any other Blogfollowers been?...






And even once you get there, apparently, the exhibition has only nine paintings…Nine! …NINE!...Why! I`ve even got more than that number hanging on my shed walls, and personally I find the crayon-work on them to be exceptionally fine….






No, no dear reader...the more I consider it, the more certain I am; the “hottest ticket in town” isn’t for the National Gallery, but for our very own Bexley Library Service!


Compare those nine paintings to our (last time I counted ‘em) quarter of a million books! Imagine that, Leo!






Now, I do grant you that the chap was a genius, no doubt about it…A scientist, a mapmaker, a musician and a linguist: the father of modern anatomy, a geologist, the greatest architect of his day, and the most influential thinker of Renaissance Europe: an inventor who designed the prototype computer, helicopter, parachute and self-propelled motor vehicle; the world’s leading authority on optics, hydrology, and military engineering: the greatest sculptor of his generation; and a fairly decent jobbing painter – whose work “developed greater significance and complexity in composition, chiaroscuro, and physical insight than has ever been surpassed”…But apart from that, well, what did he really have to offer us?...


He looked so glum…


He wasn’t even the best Ninja Mutant Turtle...


And could he turn his quill to a better adventure yarn than the splendid Dan Brown?...I don’t think so!






No, no dear readers…I remain convinced that a Bexley Library card represents far greater value for money...(We're FREE to join, by the way!)... With a selection of our books, you can read all about him AND learn to paint –(can you guess what it is, yet?) - and you’ll still have 261,403 books left to read. That’s the potential for a lifetime of adventure, leisure, and pleasure – no?






Remember, dear friends, your library card really is the hottest ticket in town!


Libraries? – Good show! – Enjoy!


TTFN

Polar scares?...

Northern frights?...

Snowy howls?...


This is a Dark Matter…



What-ho, Blogfollowers!



Now, I’m not a chap lightly frightened…Firm of jaw, and resolute of purpose, not easily scared; stiff of sinew, bold in the bone and sanguine in spirit, I`m a 'rufty-tufty' Librarian of the Old School …


In my time, I’ve fearlessly catalogued rare books without regard to AACR2 or Dewey guidelines (and all without safety gloves!)…


I’ve wheeled an un-oiled trolley across a wooden library floor, heedless of the murderous glare of any readers…


Why! I’ve even faced down and read nursery rhymes to a baying horde of toddlers!






But, dear readers, I have just been made afraid.


Very afraid…


Very afraid indeed, and it’s all because of a book that I`ve just read…


I’m not usually a fan of horror stories, but this one was thrust upon me by members of the Erith Library Reading Group (not an organization to trifle with, I assure you…)


And the book in question?


Dark Matter by Michelle Paver…


Here’s the blub: January 1937. 28-year-old Jack is poor, lonely and desperate to change his life. So when he's offered the chance to join an Arctic expedition to Spitsbergen, he jumps at it. After they reach the remote, uninhabited bay where they will camp for the next year, Gruhuken, Jack feels a creeping unease. One by one, his companions are forced to leave..






Gulp.






Now here’s a diversionary thought…


Why is it that horror has cold connotations? Frozen with fear?... Blood running cold?…Shivers down the spine?... Chillers?… Cold terror?... Not to mention Scaring the pants off anyone… (not a good idea, naturally, in the polar regions or the high latitudes) …






But I digress, dear readers. This is a wonderful book. Try it. But be warned…(And stay warm!)






TTFN

BLISTERING BARNACLES!

Tintin, Belgians, and book-fights…



Now, dear readers, help me out here, please:



Clear your throats...


Stand up straight, breathe deeply, and approach the nearest microphone…


Adopt a gravelly, authoritative and vaguely mid-Atlantic accent…


Now proclaim loudly and boldly “HERGÉ’S ADVENTURES OF TINTIN!”


……


Well, I don’t know about you, but that made me go quite weak at the knees! You see, I used to love Tintin on TV when I was a mere Blognipper, and those few words at the commencement of the show always heralded a guaranteed fun time.


Stirring stuff!


I loved the books, too – Snowy, Captain Haddock, The Thompson Twins, Professor Calculus – all fine, upstanding chaps or hounds.


Superb penmanship and design, too. Faultless!


……


Hence, it is with no little trepidation or anxiety that I am canvassing your views upon the latest cinematographically enhanced version of our little, quiff-haired Belgian plus-four wearing pal –(why! I even believe that they have rendered him in a revolutionary `three-dimensional` format…)


Has anyone seen it?...


What did you think?...


Did it give you blistering barnacles?...


Do tell me, using the comments whotsit below.


……






Belgian?


And while we’re on Tintin’s case…the little fellow’s actual nationality has been causing a quite heated argument within the Bexleyheath Ladies Library Staff Philosophical and Debating Society…Half the group ventured that Tintin was French, the other half were adamant that he was of sound Belgian stock – well, what a fight ensued! Blood, bent hair-pins and torn fingernails all over the catalogue drawers! Nasty.






Luckily, my extensive research team have taken the cause to their hearts, and unearthed the following five facts:






• Tintin first sprouted in a Brussels newspaper cartoon in 1929


• His creator, Georges Remi, was a Belgian artist – better known now as Hergé


• ‘Hergé’ is in fact, merely the French language pronunciation of his initials – G.R. – but in reverse. (Cunning devils, these Belgians, eh?)


• Remi’s middle name was ‘Prosper’ – and prosper he did! With over 200 million copies of his books sold, he became one of Belgium’s richest men.


• Not that he led a contented or uncontroversial life…he had a “terribly thin skin” wrote one biographer, and was “an emotionally retarded workaholic who cared nothing for his art, disliked children, and allegedly collaborated with the German occupiers during the war”…He suffered numerous breakdowns, endured recurring tortured nightmares, divorced badly, came to loathe Tintin himself, and turned – eventually – to Zen Buddhism.






So now we know. Belgian, beyond a doubt!


……


Meanwhile, my colleagues in the Library Debating Society are still going at it “hammer and tongs!”:


  “How many more famous Belgians in books can YOU name, then, clever-clogs?”


  “Hercule Poirot, of course!”


  “And wasn’t Maigret a Belgian?...And I seem to recall that his creator, Georges Simenon, developed quite a reputation for his extra-curricular activities?”


  “Quite so…then there was Rene Magritte, obviously – although his work tended to be more canvas-based than paper?”


  “Not forgetting, of course, Gerhard Mercator - the great Sixteenth Century Flemish cartographer, who coined the word ‘atlas’ and who also solved the riddle of converting the three-dimensional globe into a two-dimensional map while retaining true compass bearings…”


(You can now see, I trust, the intellectual fervour lurking behind the furrowed brows of our Library Debating Society?…)






So, to sum up:


• We need your comments on the Tintin film itself – a ‘hit’ or a ‘miss’?...


• We need to know if there are any more famous Belgians in books? …


• We need to know – precisely – just what “Blistering Barnacles” actually means – literally*


*(See Blogcast for 17th October…)






Now, I must dash…“Run, Snowy!”






TTFN