Ten Twitter Feeds of Joy

Twitter is an incredibly flexible medium: diary, conversation, promotional tool, link collection, repository of tiny fiction, joke factory, confessional. And sometimes, work of art. For example:

HYSTERICAL LAUNDRY!!

What is it?

Washing instructions delivered in the tone of a despairing apocalyptic scream.

Why is it?

BECAUSE IT IS!!!!! Also, because it just gets funnier with every tweet. At least if you’re a fan of being told how to wash laundry in excitable capslock, which it turns out I am.

Sample tweets:

‘PROFESSIONAL DRY CLEAN ONLY!!!! AMATEUR DRY CLEANING IS NOT AN APPROPRIATE HOBBY!!!!’

‘RESHAPE WHILST DAMP! NO NOT WHILST WET!!!!! WHILST DAMP!!!!!! ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL US ALL?!!?!’

see also: nothing else is really like hysterical laundry, but some good all-caps accounts include Feminist Hulk, Drunk Hulk and Film Critic Hulk.

Friends season 11

What is it?

Tweet-length pitches for a new season of Friends.

Why is it?

Because somewhere, I choose to believe that a small and imaginative film crew is actually producing these, possibly using Lego version of the actors. Or finger puppets. If nobody is doing this, I suggest they start now.

Sample tweets:

‘The One Where An Unlikely Number Of Limbs Burst From Rachel’s Torso Like Spring-Loaded Toy Snakes.’

‘The One Where Monica’s Birthday Is Ruined When The Clown Rachel Hired Performs A Impenetrable Beckettian Monologue About Decay And Memory.’

This is Iceland

What is it?

It is the tweet of the country Iceland. Not the government. The actual land.

Why is it?

Because Iceland wants to be your friend. And because this, in an ideal world, would be the start of a global trend which resulted in every country in the world having its own Twitter account.

Sample tweets:

‘Many humans are talking about same-sex marriage. It is not only legal on me, but my people’s prime minister is a woman, married to a woman.’

‘I am bigger and brighter and wider than snow.’

See also: We Are Ukraine

My Toaster

What is it?

It’s a toaster.

Why is it?

It toasts, therefore it is. Also it has 1,500 followers, which isn’t bad considering it mainly alternates between two tweets. Which are below.

Sample tweets:

‘Toasting’

‘Done Toasting’

see also: pothos, although that has more of an actual function.

Tweet of God

What is it?

It is the Word of God in sardonic 140-character form.

Why is it?

Because if the Tweet of God is anything to go by, God has some things to get off his or her chest. And has picked up a few modern idioms since the Bible. Also, apparently the only human he likes is Justin Bieber.

Sample tweets:

‘Next time you feel guilty about the kind of world you’re leaving behind for your children, remember how whiny they get in the car.’

‘If for budgetary reasons I had to eliminate one of the three dimensions of space, which one would you miss the least? Just, uh, asking.’

Feral Pigeon

What is it?

It’s the life of a Trafalgar Square pigeon. I don’t know which one. Maybe that grey one over there, in the corner, with the tiny laptop.

Why is it?

Presumably even pigeons need creative expression.

Sample tweets:

‘flap flap’

‘coo coo coo’

‘shifty look’

The Scream

What is it?

It’s the painting The Scream in word form.

Why is it?

Because it has a mouth and it must scream?

Sample tweets:

‘AAaaaaaahhhhh!!! #moveslikejagger’

‘Aaaaaaaahhhhh!!!! #ImNotCrying #IToldYouImNotCrying’

Hirst Skull

What is it?

It’s Damien Hirst’s skull. Not his actual skull, though that would be interesting too. The shiny art one.

Why is it?

Possibly to keep Hirst Shark company.

Sample tweets:

‘I’m eyeless’

‘I’m noseless’

‘I shine’

Hipster Dalek

What is it?

I don’t want to alarm anyone, but Twitter is overrun by Daleks. Republican, Communist, unemployed. poetic, flamboyant, happy, lethargic – every flavour is represented. (Including, for all I know, actual flvours. Raspberry ripple Dalek, anyone?) The one thing they have in common is that they all want to exterminate you. Yes, you specifically. Hipster Dalek is a bit more laid back about it than most, though.

Why is it?

Because Daleks are people too. Well, no, they’re not, but they still get to listen to indie bands.

Sample tweets:

‘THE SPELLING OF “DALEK” IS TOO MAINSTREAM. FROM NOW IT SHALL BE SPELLED “D’AL#Q”. OBEY!’

‘I ADMIRE THE FIFTH DOCTOR’S IRONIC USE OF A VEGETABLE AS A FASHION ACCESSORY, BUT I WISH HE HAD OBTAINED IT FROM A LOCAL ORGANIC CO-OP!’

Not Tilda swinton

What is it?

It is a thing of beauty, a joy forever, and (I assume) nothing to do with the actual Tilda Swinton. It’s also the newest big thing on Twitter: when I started following her a couple of days ago she had about 400 followers, now it’s over 15,000.

Why is it?

I think she may mean to kill us all. But we won’t mind because she will do it so beautifully.

Sample tweets:

‘I spent a year riding a grizzly bear piggy-back, my legs tied into his fur. He was my brawn, and I was his brain. We were called Prita.’

‘Ask your neighbor over today. Cover your basement floor with salt and pebbles; braid each other’s hair while weeping. This is connection.’

‘I once dove to the deepest part of the sea, only to tell the ugliest fish they were beautiful to me. They told me they needed no pity.’

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Things to which I have been up

I think building her a snow throne may have given her ideas above her station.

I haven’t been making blog posts as often this year as I did last year. Partly because last year I had a baby who slept a lot, whereas this year I have a toddler with very firm beliefs about how often Mummy is allowed to sit at the computer before she gets to have a go too. Resulting in the very real possibility that anything I write will accidentally end up with ‘dfjgoehodnvlos!!!!’ in the middle of a sentence. Soon she will learn to type and I’ll probably have to implant a virtual iPad in her head or something, but for the moment, she’s mainly of use as an agent of chaos.

And partly because I’ve kept half-writing posts, then having a crisis of confidence about whether they’re too dull, controversial, niche, obvious, or all of the above. (All of the above would be quite a feat, admittedly.)

However, I have done a few things that you wouldn’t immediately be aware of from this page, so here they are:

- My eight-year-old has written some more stories for her bit of this site. I’m pleased I set this up for her, because it’s motivating her to finish stories rather than getting halfway through and then wandering off to kick trees. (Don’t ask.) I particularly like ‘Friday‘, which features grape-eating cutlery.

- I wrote some ebook reviews, and am in the middle of writing some more (but it’s taking a while – the good books are hard to write about and the bad ones are hard to read).

- I did a guest blogging stint for The F-Word and wrote three posts for them about musicals, porn genies and why I can, in fact, take a joke.

- I wrote a guest post for Choler speculating on whether David Cameron saw himself as a plucky maverick or as a Bond villain.

- I wrote a post on Sherlock Holmes and genderswitching for Bookshelf Bombshells, as part of their blog bonanza for the start of Sherlock series 2 in the US.

- I had my novel reviewed by The Future Fire!

- I created a Pinterest board of all the things you’d have had to own in the 1980s to equal one smartphone.

-  I started using tumblr, which turns out to be fun, although I may be reaching my social media threshold soon.

- I created The Almost Art Project: photos of found-around-the-house art accidentally designed by my children.

I’m trying to write a second novel in theory, but – well, see my first paragraph: it’s hard to find the time. So while I wait for my children to get older and less needy*, I’m working on a couple more genderswitching projects – an illustrated ebook of genderswitched Grimms fairy tales, and an ebook anthology of genderswitched extracts from classics including James Eyre, June the Obscure and The Picture of Daria Grey. To be continued…

 

*Sometimes people take things I say very literally. I would like to clarify that I am not spending my time resenting my children and waiting for them to get older. Well, not all of my time. Sometimes I sleep.  

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Smashed and Gleeful: some notes on a tiny genre

US show-about-a-show Smash starts on Sky Atlantic this weekend. Like Glee, to which it is constantly being compared, it’s a TV series with musical numbers. But that’s the same as saying that Agatha Christie’s Poirot and 24 are both cop shows. In a world with as many musical TV shows as there are detective series or thrillers – a beautiful, shiny world that sadly only exists in my head – it would be obvious that Smash and Glee are quite distinct examples of their genre.

This shot, for example, could only have come from a Busby Berkeley show.

Film musicals don’t necessarily have clearly delineated subgenres. Instead they tend to be categorised by their star or director or choreographer: Vincente Minnelli musicals, Bob Fosse musicals, Busby Berkeley musicals. But you could also categorise them in other ways, for example:

- By degree of realism: do people just burst into song (e.g. Grease) or are they always on stage performing (e.g. 42nd Street)?

- By level of comedy vs tragedy: can you be certain that everything will work out in the end, as in all the Astaire-Rogers films; or will the climax be sad or ambiguous, as in Dancer in the Dark or Hedwig and the Angry Inch?

- By family-friendliness: Mary Poppins and Annie are at one end of this sliding scale, Rocky Horror and Cabaret at the other. You can roughly calculate this by counting up the number of children in major roles.

- By old versus new, which often makes a major difference in tone. The tropes of classic 1930s musicals and 1950s musicals are well known; more recently, there’s less homogeneity except for a tendency – like all other film genres – towards more sex and swearing.

Smash and Glee are far from polar opposites, but they occupy quite different positions in the musical oeuvre. With this in mind, I shall therefore attempt to weigh Smash and Glee against each other using my own personal totally-not-made-up-on-the-spot categorisations.

Grown-Upness: Glee is a high school show. Smash is an adult drama, albeit one set in the not-terribly-adult world of making a Broadway musical. This is the basic and important difference between them. Smash has exactly one teenage character and he’s minor and annoying; Glee, of course, is primarily made up of teens. Themes such as coming to terms with sexuality and deciding what you want to do in life, so central to Glee, are mainly absent in Smash. Smash’s characters mostly know who they are and what they want (fame, success, sex, money, everyone else losing); it’s how to get it that frustrates them.

Having said this, I should note that the family-friendliness of the shows is roughly equal, in that both have sex and sexual themes in them. (Although not swearing. One of the quirks of American TV networks, I think?)

Gayness: Glee is definitely gayer than Smash. The number of LGB characters is about the same, but Glee’s queer characters feel queerer. Possibly because they’re teenagers in a small town rather than adults on Broadway, so their sexuality stands out more.

Note: Smash contains a major character, Derek (Jack Davenport) who expresses some mildly homophobic views. I think this is probably quite realistic even for Broadway, so I’m happy that they’ve done this. I don’t get the impression that he actually dislikes gay men, for what it’s worth, more that he clashes with one specific one and likes shocking people. I admit that this may because I am blinded by Jack Davenport’s stubbly, irritable, butch handsomeness.

I mean, look.

 

Eye Candy, or some less shallow term that basically means the same thing: It depends on taste, and maybe I’m biased by the relative novelty of Smash, but Jack Davenport and Megan Hilty (playing Ivy) win for me. Though Glee has a bigger and younger cast, of course, and I wouldn’t want to do down any ensemble that has Mark Salling (Puck) and Naya Rivera (Santana) in it. And obviously, Heather Morris dancing is the best thing ever. So on the whole, it’s a tie.

Most Musical Numbers: Glee wins outright here, though I may be in a minority for thinking that more is better. I have been bemused to discover that there are people who watch Glee but don’t like the musical numbers, which is like watching The West Wing but tuning out all the politics. Personally, I am a musicals geek and I want as much singing as possible: an entirely sung-through TV show would suit me fine. So for me, Smash doesn’t have enough songs in it. It does have more original songs, which again you may or may not see as a plus. And is more showtune-oriented. But there’s still too much talking for my taste.

Realism: A quick rant here. If you think that people suddenly bursting into song in hallways is silly and offputting, that’s fine, but you must understand – and I can’t believe I’m having to say this at all - that’s what musicals do. It’s like maverick cops or slow-moving zombies: some tropes are intrinsically part of the genre and bitching about them is pointless, not to mention annoying. (Affectionate mocking or subversion of them is absolutely fine, of course.)

All of which is to say that I love it when people burst into musical numbers, especially when they feature an invisible orchestra and a large cast of synchronised background dancers, and I think real life should be more like that, frankly. Glee and Smash both run the gamut from this to practically-realistic numbers sung on stage, and that suits me fine.

Plot and consistency: I’ve read a lot of reviews of both shows, and critics tend to complain that both lack focus, consistency, coherent plot strands that make sense etc. I don’t deny it. But go watch Top Hat, one of the most beloved musicals of all time, and then talk to me*. Musicals have never particularly tried to make sense. That’s not what they’re for. They’re for the moment, and if the moment works, then the show works.

Moreover, how much sense does Castle or House or, I don’t know, Heroes really make? (I don’t know the answer to this. I’m a bit vague on shows that don’t have songs in them, unless they’re True Blood. But I’m going to assume that none of them achieve 100% sensibleness, and that they’d be less fun if they did.)

Finally, a recommendation: if you like adult TV shows with musical numbers, and especially if you actually do want a plot as well, you’re going to want to watch Blackpool. It’s a six-part British show from 2004, it’s got David Tennant dancing in it, and it’s so good I think I might need to go and watch it right now.

 

*The plot of Top Hat rests on Ginger Rogers believing that Fred Astaire is the husband of her best friend and thus romantically unavailable, despite the fact that she spends several days with him, the best friend, and the best friend’s actual husband, who is himself Fred Astaire’s best friend. So she impulsively marries her narcissistic cod-Italian tailor, but it’s OK because the vicar who married them was actually the butler of Fred Astaire’s best friend and not a vicar at all. I adore Top Hat, but I have never watched it without shouting at the screen “JUST TALK TO EACH OTHER!” 

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Skull bunnies, zombie Peeps and the Eggbot: Easter links

Easter! Time of chocolate, pastel-coloured items and… some religious stuff that is less related to chocolate. In honour of the occasion, have some links to demonstrate the very soul of the season.

- For your basic scary rabbit needs, I recommend Fork Party’s gallery of terrifying Easter Bunnies (complete with children caught at the exact moment their lifelong rabbit phobia took hold). I also give you this, a soft toy rabbit with a skull for a face and, most weirdly, a natty tie to complete the nightmarish look.

I would eat your face, except someone already did that to me.

- Speaking of bunnies, you know how at Easter, they give birth to chocolate eggs, in defiance of all natural laws? Little-known fact: when the eggs hatch, twin baby dragons emerge. And eat you. Probably.

- Oh, and you know how at Easter, giant rabbits hunt you down with sad yet hungry faces? True story.

- We don’t really have Peeps in the UK, which is a shame, because they make great film tableaus. If you don’t wake up in the night screaming about the Walking Peeps coming to eat your tasty chocolate brains, then… um, good for you, I guess.

- Looking for ways to decorate eggs? Meet lEGGo, light-up eggs, steampunk eggs and the Eggbot. Or just admire this collection. The Dalek is especially cool.

- And finally, the obligatory Easter-is-satanic link. Did you know human sacrifices are performed throughout the Easter Holidays? No… me neither. *hides corpses*. Still, at least it isn’t April 19th yet.

 

Look at their delicious dead eyes.

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I Am Sad Because I’m Not Beautiful Like Samantha Brick

A few weeks ago I read an article about Shin In Geun, the first person known to escape from a North Korean prison camp. Up until today I thought he had probably the hardest life I’d ever read about: institutionalised, tortured, controlled. And yet today that crown has been stolen. Stand back Shin: Samantha’s here.

Yes. Samantha Brick, handily named for the item you most want to throw at her, has written today in the Daily Mail about her own torture: being too pretty. Her ethereal, transcendent beauty leads women to hate her (although, as per an earlier article, luckily it’s also brought her enormous wealth) and this makes her sad.

Not sad enough to stop working out and eat her own bodyweight in chocolate, though, which has always been my preferred method of preventing men from throwing themselves in front of me as I walk down the street. (It was getting annoying having to step over the bodies.) And not sad enough to wear a bag over her head, which would presumably solve many of her problems, although it might create some new ones.

I’m sure that being pretty does bring its own problems. But like complaining about having too much money, it’s not really a great idea to go public with your issues in this area. There’s really no way of coming out of it well. Particularly if you’ve already written about how great it is being attractive, which was the point at which any lingering sympathy I’d had trotted off into the distance, muttering darkly to itself.

And yet perhaps I should sympathise. Brick is a product of her environment, and I can only imagine that said environment was startlingly shallow and image-obsessed. More generally, she’s a product of a society which does have a very polarised and contradictory view of women’s appearance. Moreover, Mail writers are apparently often manipulated into writing what the paper wants. Maybe Samantha Brick is a modest, unassuming woman who is about to sue the Mail for gross misrepresentation.

Maybe not. But possibly I shouldn’t actually pick up that brick.

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Only Two Months Till The World Ends Again

After last year’s excitement when Harold Camping prophesised the Rapture not once but twice - and then fell mysteriously silent, perhaps because he’d been Raptured, perhaps because he was very embarrassed, who can say? – this year’s big end-times news has been the alleged prophecy, from the ancient Mayans, that the world will end in December 2012.

In fact, there never seems to have been any such prophecy, but that’s OK, because there is another end-times contender of much more recent provenence, with very specific ideas about the way 2012 is going to unfold. Ronald Weinland, leader of the generically-titled Church of God, is very clear that “Jesus Christ is returning as King of kings on May 27th of this year”. But first there will be global religious war and economic chaos and – um, more stuff like that, I haven’t read the whole of the 250-page .pdf that goes into proper detail

I am impressed, though, by his statement early on regarding the various people who have previously predicted the world’s end: “Obviously, those who made such pronouncements were weirdos, crackpots and unsound religious zealots”. Good to know that he’s not any of those things.

Weinland is being taken seriously by some but mostly he’s regarded even by other evangelical groups as a false prophet. Not that he cares, presumably, because it’s more fun to be the only one making a prediction – you get to sound persecuted, and you get all the glory if it comes true. Well, assuming you’re one of the few people who survive the whole thing. How embarrassing would it be to prophesy the coming of Jesus and then fail to make the grade when he turns up?

So what of the timeline of events? Well, the book has this to say:

The soon-coming time of trouble and devastation is so great that God says there has never been a time like it during man’s 6,000 year period on this earth. This great physical tribulation will last for three and a half years. Then, on the very last day, the greatest destruction of all will come upon mankind – thereby ending World War III. On that day, God Himself will bring judgment, death and destruction upon this world. On this same day, Jesus Christ, the prophesied Messiah, will return with 144,000 resurrected members of the Family of God – the Kingdom of God – to reign over this earth! A new world order, with a single world government, will begin ruling on the earth.

This is interesting for at least two reasons. Firstly, what he’s describing, as he makes clear here, is the last three and a half years. So since 2008 we’ve been having a worse time of it than any period in the last 6,000 years, apparently. Worse than the Dark Ages. Worse than the Spanish Inquisition. Worse than any of these events. I’m not saying the last 3.5 years have consisted entirely of sunshine, kittens and the tinkling laughter of small children, but in terms of overall human history, calling it the greatest period of trouble and destruction ever is definitely way overstating the case.

The other interesting thing is the use of the phrase ‘new world order with a single world government’. A lot of conspiracy sites talk about the New World Order and single global government, but all the other ones are against those things. Ronald Weinland, on the other hand, is using those phrases to describe the upcoming reign of God. So either Weinland is an unwitting tool of Satan, which of course is what the false-prophet sites are basically claiming - or, intriguingly the leader of the shadowy, homocidal and arguably reptilian New World Order, as described in every other internet conspiracy site, is actually the Messiah. Which would make so terrific a plot for a novel that I think I’m going to end this blog post here and start writing it immediately. After all, I’ve only got a couple of months.

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Seven Mildly Annoying Things People Say

Nothing is certain except death and taxes

As current UK events are illustrating, taxes are far from inevitable provided you have enough money. And my friend ciphergoth has his doubts about death too.

You know what’s certain? That the future child of David Mitchell and Victoria Coren will rule us all using the power of wit. And we won’t even mind.

Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels

Definitely untrue. Garlic roast potatoes taste better than anything feels. So, depending on taste, do hot sugared doughnuts, halloumi, Batternberg cake, crème brulee, bakewell tart, lemon pudding, chocolate fudge cake with ice cream, potato dauphoinoise, calzone, spinach and ricotta tortellini, pepperoni pizza, and egg fried rice. And that’s just off the top of my head.

I do have photos of actual cooked garlic roast potatoes, but I just liked this one.

If Goths want to look different, why do they all dress the same as each other?

Said by people who think that a) they’re the first person ever to think of this and b) they have provided a devastating knockback to Goths everywhere. What they have in fact done is got confused about what ‘different’ means. People in defined subcultures tend to want to dress differently to the mainstream. They are largely ok with other people in their subculture looking similar to them. In fact, it’s kind of what a subculture is about. I have never seen a goth enter a club and cry ‘I must leave again! Fifty other people are also wearing a black corset, black skirt and New Rocks!’

Goths are also not vampires. Despite this photo.

Twitter is just people talking about what they had for lunch

The traditional media seems to be stuck on this idea, as do people who don’t use Twitter. But the important thing about Twitter is that you basically only ever see what you want to see. If you don’t like someone constantly listing sandwich ingredients in order of size, cost and yumminess, just stop following them.

Personally, I’m capable of taking a mild interest in what my friends eat, but in any case my Twitter feed is mostly full of all kinds of other things: political statements, one-liners, news, links to amusing pictures, music and tiny short stories to list a few. Yours can be too.

Be true to yourself, and thou canst not be false to any man

Even leaving aside the origin of this phrase – the pompous Polonius in Hamlet – it is provably untrue. It’s entirely possible to be true to yourself and also false to others. If you were listing a skillset for a criminal psychopath, for example, two of the top items would be ‘Really good at being true to themselves’ and ‘Excellent at lying to other people’.

A little knowledge is a dangerous thing

Sometimes a little knowledge is exactly the amount of knowledge you want. In Trivial Pursuit, for example, I find that my ability to name exactly one cricket player or city in Peru is a definite advantage. Too much knowledge leads to choice paralysis, indecision, despair about the world and ultimately death. Apart from that last one.

Online friends aren’t real friends

You know, there’s no actual reason why a friendship can’t be sustained via writing rather than face-to-face. Plenty of Victorians did it with letters. Yes, an online friend might not be what they seem or might have ulterior motives: this is also true of in-person friends.

It’s quite likely that to my daughter’s generation, this issue won’t even parse. I didn’t use email till I was eighteen, and even I don’t see online and offline as binary opposites but as part of a continuum: FaceBook is as valid a place to say hello to someone as the pub is, and a lot easier to get to.

This complaint, incidentally, often seems to shade into ‘online friends aren’t real people’. I can assure you they almost always are, and will be until robots finally reach the stage where they can fool us into thinking they’re human, at which point we’ll have bigger problems than any social media can provide.

 

Admittedly, the killer humanoid robots in our future will probably not look like this.

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My Experimental Valentine

I love Christmas, I love Easter, I love birthdays, but frankly I can take or leave Valentine’s Day. Possibly this is because my cultural heritage has taught me that the only acceptable means of expressing passionate affection are a) mockery, b) sarcasm, or c) a brief, neutral pat on the shoulder.

However, should you wish – inexplicably – to explore beyond the list above, I would like to present three ideas for communicating your feelings in a suitably offbeat and alt-romantic style. (Please note that I take no responsibility whatsoever for any break-ups that may occur as a result of putting these suggestions into practice.)

1. Phobia Surprise!
Making dinner is a nice thing to do for a loved one. And a common self-help tip is to do something every day that scares you. Handily combine these two by making your beloved a dinner out of something that terrifies them.

You will need:
- a pastry case with lid
- a loved one who enjoys a challenge
- spiders, snakes, small rodents, an enclosed space, a roomful of intimidating people, or other phobia of choice.

Simply place the chosen item or concept in the pastry case, cover, and serve with a spring of parsley on top.

Chance that you will end the night alone: 95%

2. A Life in the Day
Dreaming of a future with your date? Help them to visualise what that might be like by providing them with a life experience compressed into a couple of hours.

You will need:
- An extensive list of your likes, dislikes, tastes, opinions, favourite foods, allergies, pets of choice, and a short essay on how you feel about putting knives in the fork drawer.
- A doll’s house painstakingly decorated to resemble the home that you plan to share with the object of your affections (if you do). Make sure the decor is appropriate to your tastes,energy levels and ability to do DIY: if your lives are to be spent in a house with bright orange carpets, bits of strange-smelling crisps hidden behind the sofa, and a large hole in the roof that both of you keep intending to fix and never do, it’s best to get it all out in the open now. Much like your future roof.
- Lego models of holiday destinations you would be prepared to go to, ranked in order of how likely you are to complain about the local food.
- Life-size cardboard cut-outs of your future children, lined up along the wall wearing expressions of either hostility or scorn. (If children are not part of the plan, a similar effect can be achieved with supercilious-looking cats or disappointed-looking dogs.)
- A brief re-enactment by you of the arguments you expect to have at various important points during your life together. Don’t forget to do the hand gestures, and to indicate the range and degree of imagination you will be using in your insults. Make it clear that you don’t currently think your date is a mean-sprited grinch with the soul of a shrunken bath towel: that’s just what you expect to be believing during your 2021 row about who broke the virtual TV.

Chance that your date will be so freaked out they fake a sudden toe cramp and leave: 86%

3. Literal Love Lyrics
Songs are romantic, aren’t they? So what better way to prepare a Valentine surpise than to choose a favourite song and find a way to turn it into a live-action adventure for your beloved. For example:

- Pet Shop Boys: Surburbia
You will need: some dogs, a ride, a local suburb, a gang of disaffected youths.

- Pulp: Common People
You will need: a flat above a shop, a haircut, a job, a handful of roaches arranged artistically on a wall, a posh Greek student.

- David Bowie: Five Years
You will need: a group of terrified and angry people doing terrible things, a date who is excited by the thought of an imminent apocalypse.

Collect your props and your date and embark upon your adventure, climaxing in an acappella rendition of your chosen song to emphasise the romance of the occasion.

Chance of your date going along with it: 10%. Max.

Happy Valentine’s Day! And no, don’t thank me – you’re welcome.


 

 

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But is it art?

Because I have children, I tend to find objects in random places and positions around the house. If I like the resulting tableau, I take a photo of them on my phone.

After a while I started putting them in their own folder, labelled ‘accidental art’, and playing around with them on Picasa.

My house is full of stuff like this.

At this point I started wondering about the definition of ‘art’ in this particular case. My personal definition of art is “life, deliberately rearranged”. But how did that fit with the process where my daughters played with toys and left them around, and I took pictures of them? They had created the arrangements, but (mostly) not intentionally. Was that art? Or had I created art by taking the photographs, or by editing the photos?

Or was none of this art? I am not a photographer or an artist, after all. If my dad – who is both – had taken the pictures instead, would that have made them art?

I realise it doesn’t especially matter. But I like the idea of life being turned into art in stages, even though each stage isn’t in itself art.

Anyway, the one thing I did know was that I wanted to put the pictures up here and call it the Almost Art Project. So here they are, with commentary (and mouseover text).

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Unexpected items in bragging area

Hello! I should really update about what I’ve been doing elsewhere, as it’s all got quite busy. (And also, I was desperate to use this title.)

In December I was accepted into a Guardian writers’ workshop, and a result of that I’ve written three articles for them – two are linked from my Guardian profile, and the third, on genderswitching the classics, is here.

I’m also guest blogging for The F-Word in January and have written one post for them so far, called “Can’t you take a joke?”

So life is busy (particularly since I have a job and two children and technically no free time) but fun. My most recent Guardian article, about the concept of Twitter as a virtual literary salon, led to a Twitter conversation with Neil Gaiman – which, admittedly, involved him very nicely letting me know that I’d got one of my facts wrong, but he was also sweet about the article itself.

It’s been interesting writing for the Guardian, the Huffington Post and the F-Word (and Choler, of course) as well as my own site. The nature of the comments has varied wildly depending on the site: the F-Word has been lovely, the Huffington has frequently involved people rather missing my point (which is the risk involved in trying to be funny on the internet). I have largely avoided reading the Guardian comments altogether because the commentators there are notoriously often very harsh (and also often miss the point), as I know from years of watching people take Charlie Brooker’s articles utterly literally.

In fiction-related news, I shall soon have some print copies of my novel for sale at £6.50 plus postage: please email fausterella at gmail if interested! The e-book remains available on Amazon etc.

Oh, and you can currently get 25% off my short stories or my genderswitched Austen book at lulu.com with code LULUBOOKUK305.

I don’t know where I’m going from here, but I think 2012 is going to be exciting.

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