Showing posts with label small wooden box. Show all posts
Showing posts with label small wooden box. Show all posts
18 March, 2018
Coffee-shop and Daffodil
Right, coffee-shop. Not any kind, but new coffee-shop. Coffee-shop 2.0. Where should I start? Fancy chairs, rich menu and decorations, professional baristas. Fancy chairs means there are not two of the same, each trying to out-pass the others in terms of looks and funkiness, made from 19 different materials, with the only thing they have in common being overall lack of comfort. But hey, you know, design!
Design also overflows in the menu, with long descriptions for coffee, in an attempt to make it as exciting as the chairs: single-source, double-roast, hand-picked, fair-trade, gluten-free (probably unlike some bits in the chairs), organic milk (anything but cow is acceptable), virgin cinnamon, sugar without any clarification about its virginity but definitely brown or cane. The list goes on and on. It is so big that you need a full-size wall to handwrite it all in chalk. Preferably by someone suffering from Parkinson, a doctor or someone that has not learned how to write yet. The former can be controversial, and doctors can be harder to find, but luckily you can always find the latter among the staff.
For each item on the menu there are sizes: from 0.2 ml, for a strong roast that will give you a mild heart-attack, all the way to a bucket. And nothing else in between. If they decide to squeeze some intermediary sizes, Latin words irrelevant to volume are to be used.
The other walls are adorned with local art, because, you know, support for the community and struggling artists. The art on display is like finger and macaroni paintings toddlers do in kindergarten when the teacher has forgotten to lock up the sweets cupboard. Swap the paint and macaroni for markers, pebbles, sequins and glitter and there you have it. Sometimes it is done directly on the wall or, for extra zest, on old posters, vinyl discs or any flat surface they were too lazy to take out to the bins. Well, there is a reason local art is local, and that reason is related mainly to quality. Still, the new coffee-shop remains hopeful that good intentions compensate whatever lacks in skill and broadcast it on every surface not taken by the menu: walls, cupboards, radiators, and sometimes even in the bathrooms.
Fortunately, at the end of the day, the outcome of the struggle remains contained locally. Those that are not local will be spared and will only have to deal with their own... and so on, and so on.
Baristas masterfully lead this whole symphony of sensations. You can tell them apart from the cattle by their impeccably dramatic uniforms of beanies and ironically non-matching aprons. Conjoined in a graceful dance around their immense silvery alchemy machine (the coffee maker), they are pushing buttons, scribbling furiously and unintelligibly the customer's name on paper or extruded polyester cups. Said cups are then fed by said baristas to the said machine, buttons are pushed, and the precious brown fluid fills them to the brim a couple of minutes later. Or only filled half-way through, to save room for the upcoming milk-foam art and the complimentary sprinkle or two of precious nutmeg or cinnamon (virgin, remember?) powder from a never-ending jar with a sieve on top.
To the untrained eye all this may look easy, but mastering such craft requires long time and suffering. The long time is for growing the beard and the suffering is for the tattoos, truck-tire earrings in the ears and piercings everywhere else. Attitude, mumbling, and a tank top are added to the mix, and the magnificent outcome is deemed worthy to handle the sacred coffee machine. And blissfully mix up the orders.
If you want to gain the barista's respect, you will ask politely for anything with at least six words in the title. And try to sound like it is not the first time you're reciting the drink's pompous title. Then say your name. Wait two to three minutes. Repeat your name. Wait four minutes more. Spell your name. Offer to write it yourself. Get mumbled or scoffed at. Pay. Wait patiently for other twenty minutes, even if there is no queue; art requires sacrifice. Quickly whiff or gulp to relish your concoction and step out before the local art and music irreversibly scratch your retina and eardrum. Thank you and have a blessed day. Or, if you get it, man, take out your MacBook and spend the next six hours clicking and basking in the potpourri of coffee flavour, visual art and music.
Wait! Oh, my! Silly me, but I forgot to mention the music.
When not violating the copyright off whales snoring or dolphins farting or some twigs cracking in the Amazonian forest, new coffee-shop music is another nod to local musicians. The kind of musicians that do not know how to play any musical instrument. Those that go the extra mile and do learn subsequently display their skill in the live band at their friends' weddings. Most of them do not. And they take pride in making their music on specialised devices. Devices with lamps for pure, analogue sound. Because digital sound is not pure, brother, you know? Anyway, the raw, analogue sound is then taken processed through ready-made filters, presumably for more purity, and then tuned on a computer connected to keyboards with many buttons. Whilst still remaining analogue. And pure. The pure end result is a monotonous series of beats of various frequencies dubbed over elevator music. If there was a woman available during the recording, you may spot a diluted lamenting blur in the song from time to time.
I met once such a "musician". He was named Daffodil and he was almost fifty. He used to describe himself as a new player and promising talent. I thought that would be a perfect name for this kind of artists. Daffodils are among the first flowers to bloom after a long harsh winter. They are supposed to symbolize rebirth, youth and creativity, awareness, and self-reflection. Or probably this is how they would describe themselves.
In reality they are the last flowers you would use in a bouquet and are usually thrown in for free as filler by florists before they get too wilted. Such perfect irony is indeed rare and to be heartily enjoyed.
10 March, 2015
Wait for it...
There is an amazing ritual going on in few remote villages in the central part of the African continent. When a tiger cub is born the entire village sits around the fire all night and celebrate with singing and dancing the new god's coming into this world. Lions and tigers are considered to be divine spirits of the ancient warriors. It is said for the next seven days after no tiger will attack villagers that have taken part in the ritual, even if they happened to get lost -the villagers, not the tigers- in the woods.
Or at least that's what I'd say if I were a local and tourists bugged me with stupid questions. I would also let them know there's an upcoming ritual in a couple of days, which is very lucky and rare for this time of the year -there's actually one every week in full season, usually on Thursdays but it can be adjusted to follow the schedule of larger groups of tourists- and they are most welcome to it for free, as divinity loves everybody no matter where they're from. It's one of the most important events in the village, and not many are lucky to take part in it. This should keep them in the village for a few more days, giving them more opportunity to buy more magic fridge magnets, exotic spices and traditional products crafted items crafted by the villagers. Well, there is a possibility that the factory in China where the magic magnets and traditional products are being made is magic, so there could be some truth this. And although an untrained nose may not sniff differences between the exotic spices and the mixed-grill condiments at M&S, a keen eye will spot the 'exotic' ones are 4 to 7 times more expensive. Which has to stand for something, right? Right.
During the days before the ritual, many interesting activities may be arranged, such as trips around the village, or even in the village, observing the locals in their day-to-day activities, and giving a hand with day-to-day tasks like cooking or helping around. It's refreshing and almost emotional to see several fat blokes scorching outside in the sun, watching a pot of soup boiling over the fire made of wood they gathered and cut themselves not an hour ago. All this for a small amount of money they paid the host for their trouble, but in return they get to eat natural, unspoiled food. Which is awesome, right? Right. The money will help the villagers buy more food and it will also save them from the trouble of using the electric stove which can be problematic in hot days as the electric grid is already overloaded by the fans they keep on in houses where there are no tourists around.
Trips around the village may be also arranged to watch the wild animals roam free and admire the beautiful nature and landscapes. Well, not so many animals as it's still dry season, and the animals are hiding to protect themselves from the sun; the ginger hyena is particularly vulnerable, as is the emo cobra and the gray dermato-chimp; no, it's not made-up, who would do something like that? There's a different reasonable excuse for the wet season, too, but in reality the locals are not stupid to live very close to wild and dangerous animals. Not even near made-up wild animals, but that's their little secret.
Still, there's plenty of spectacular plants to see. The beanstalk that sparkles in the full moon during the rainy season is fascinating. Simply breath-taking, you should come again and see it then. Also, the grape pineapple has some leaves that at the beginning of dry season -not now, unfortunately, you just missed them- curl up and take a shape of a grape, hence the name. Giraffes eat only those, and the fruit will not be harmed. And after ten years since they have bloomed for the first time, the trunks of dwarf banana-trees no longer float in water. This is how the locals know which bananas are better. Young bananas are more flavorful, of course. Also fascinating is the effect on the price of pineapple, beans and young bananas tomorrow at the market. What? No, it was the same price the other day, honestly.
During the evening before the ritual they'd find out the presence of strangers might upset the divinity after all, but the elderly of village could probably sort this out for around 75$/ person. African tigers are very reasonable when it comes to foreign currency. And so are the drunkards that will sing gibberish and 'dance' wearing 'ceremonial clothing' for a couple of hours during the night in front of a fire for 10$.
All in all, a small price to pay for not knowing there are no tigers in Africa.
Or at least that's what I'd say if I were a local and tourists bugged me with stupid questions. I would also let them know there's an upcoming ritual in a couple of days, which is very lucky and rare for this time of the year -there's actually one every week in full season, usually on Thursdays but it can be adjusted to follow the schedule of larger groups of tourists- and they are most welcome to it for free, as divinity loves everybody no matter where they're from. It's one of the most important events in the village, and not many are lucky to take part in it. This should keep them in the village for a few more days, giving them more opportunity to buy more magic fridge magnets, exotic spices and traditional products crafted items crafted by the villagers. Well, there is a possibility that the factory in China where the magic magnets and traditional products are being made is magic, so there could be some truth this. And although an untrained nose may not sniff differences between the exotic spices and the mixed-grill condiments at M&S, a keen eye will spot the 'exotic' ones are 4 to 7 times more expensive. Which has to stand for something, right? Right.
During the days before the ritual, many interesting activities may be arranged, such as trips around the village, or even in the village, observing the locals in their day-to-day activities, and giving a hand with day-to-day tasks like cooking or helping around. It's refreshing and almost emotional to see several fat blokes scorching outside in the sun, watching a pot of soup boiling over the fire made of wood they gathered and cut themselves not an hour ago. All this for a small amount of money they paid the host for their trouble, but in return they get to eat natural, unspoiled food. Which is awesome, right? Right. The money will help the villagers buy more food and it will also save them from the trouble of using the electric stove which can be problematic in hot days as the electric grid is already overloaded by the fans they keep on in houses where there are no tourists around.
Trips around the village may be also arranged to watch the wild animals roam free and admire the beautiful nature and landscapes. Well, not so many animals as it's still dry season, and the animals are hiding to protect themselves from the sun; the ginger hyena is particularly vulnerable, as is the emo cobra and the gray dermato-chimp; no, it's not made-up, who would do something like that? There's a different reasonable excuse for the wet season, too, but in reality the locals are not stupid to live very close to wild and dangerous animals. Not even near made-up wild animals, but that's their little secret.
Still, there's plenty of spectacular plants to see. The beanstalk that sparkles in the full moon during the rainy season is fascinating. Simply breath-taking, you should come again and see it then. Also, the grape pineapple has some leaves that at the beginning of dry season -not now, unfortunately, you just missed them- curl up and take a shape of a grape, hence the name. Giraffes eat only those, and the fruit will not be harmed. And after ten years since they have bloomed for the first time, the trunks of dwarf banana-trees no longer float in water. This is how the locals know which bananas are better. Young bananas are more flavorful, of course. Also fascinating is the effect on the price of pineapple, beans and young bananas tomorrow at the market. What? No, it was the same price the other day, honestly.
During the evening before the ritual they'd find out the presence of strangers might upset the divinity after all, but the elderly of village could probably sort this out for around 75$/ person. African tigers are very reasonable when it comes to foreign currency. And so are the drunkards that will sing gibberish and 'dance' wearing 'ceremonial clothing' for a couple of hours during the night in front of a fire for 10$.
All in all, a small price to pay for not knowing there are no tigers in Africa.
07 June, 2014
As opposed to
No foreplay, this is also about a movie. A more recent one, depending on when you're reading, about Emily Blunt traveling in time.
Even when it's not for real (it's never for real, actually, as confirmed by Professor Hawking), time traveling is no easy task, you cannot just go in at once. It takes patience and perseverance.You start first by skewing time a bit (The Adjustment Bureau), then do it a couple of times (Looper), and only then you're ready to go back and forth on a daily basis. Judging by the trend, she must be quite disappointed with the present.
Unfortunately the future is not much better, as it involves war, total destruction and robots from France (they are ugly and have tentacles so you would be forgiven to mistake them for actual Frenchmen, but it is explained in the movie). Worse, you discover that frequent time travel involves an annoying midget following you everywhere, no matter how many times you try to kill him. I will not spoil the story too much by telling he's Tom Cruise, the writers have done a much better job at spoiling the story already.
Like most of the movies this summer, it begins with Messi doing tricks with a can of Pepsi. Then some more ads, some trailers, where the hell did I put those 3d glasses?, and finally Mr. Cruise.
Despite his initial reluctance to fight, Mr. Cruise is traveling back and forth in time, fighting alien robots. Whenever he dies, he can start over and change things a bit to live a bit longer. Like in a game where you can't save and you start over every time you die (but unlike a game where you can't save, you cannot even press Pause when you need to go to the loo). In his quest he's aided by Mrs. Blunt, who's quite feminist at first but she gets around rather quickly. I guess his badass suit -that everyone is wearing- and convincing story help a bit and break the ice. Probably the small wooden box he stands on also helps a bit, although we don't see it in the movie. I'm not telling he's small (you can see that for yourself), but if he had played in the Hobbit a lot of money could have been saved on the CGI. A few deaths later, he's getting quite good and actually learns to configure the suit and use it to kill the baddies. Surprisingly for an American weapon, it has instructions in multiple languages (not Arabian, though, for whatever reason). He also gets extra help from Mrs. Blunt, who helps him in her spare time. In her busy time, she's doing push-ups or Yoga. Contributing to the overall success is a brilliant professor who looks like a not-so-brilliant janitor. This professor built a device that can somehow help with time travel issues. You know it works, as your eyes get colored in black when everything goes alright.
One of the more intense moments of the movie is when Mr. Cruise gathers his mates around him and says "I know what I'm about to say will sound crazy". I put popcorn aside, moved to the edge of the seat and held my breath waiting for him to say "Scientology is drivel". But he did not, he went on about time travel (which, in comparison, is not that crazy). Such a lost opportunity, that could have been the best (and unexpected) movie ending in a long time. So that was not the most intense moments of the movie, after all.
Another intense moment is when she wants to shoot him as usual but he tells her not to, as he's not coming back this time because he lost the ability to rejuvenate (you wouldn't expect Mr. Cruise to use such elevated words, and you're right; he doesn't). Unfortunately, this moment is spoiled again, this time by Mrs. Blunt, as she doesn't shoot him.
There's another scene packed with suspense towards the end of the movie, when they drive a ship (no, I actually got it right) between Eiffel Tower and Le Louvre in a final attempt to destroy the ultimate alien. Paris looks as lovely as ever, but you notice this only briefly, as tension escalates during the chase (I still didn't get to go to the loo). Despite the frantic pace, it takes a while, probably as long as it takes to walk that distance in real life. And it should take even less, as there's no people getting in the way and offering to sell them Eiffel Tower key-chains or bottled water for 3 euros. But, as you may have guessed already, it's just another disappointing moment, as Mr. Cruise does not get killed. On the plus side, the movie ends shortly after this.
One thing that confuses me is why in military planes people stay sideways. Not only it's less efficient, as you can only carry a few people in one plane and pollute more, but you'd think facing forward would be more intuitive, especially if jumping from the plane is expected at some point and you're probably curios about what's ahead. The best explanation I could come up with is that they're flying toward East, and they want to avoid sun going in their eyes (even those wearing sunglasses). Either that, or they want to make sure they don't bother anyone when they need to use the bathroom. Of course, it could only be to encourage communication.
Even when it's not for real (it's never for real, actually, as confirmed by Professor Hawking), time traveling is no easy task, you cannot just go in at once. It takes patience and perseverance.You start first by skewing time a bit (The Adjustment Bureau), then do it a couple of times (Looper), and only then you're ready to go back and forth on a daily basis. Judging by the trend, she must be quite disappointed with the present.
Unfortunately the future is not much better, as it involves war, total destruction and robots from France (they are ugly and have tentacles so you would be forgiven to mistake them for actual Frenchmen, but it is explained in the movie). Worse, you discover that frequent time travel involves an annoying midget following you everywhere, no matter how many times you try to kill him. I will not spoil the story too much by telling he's Tom Cruise, the writers have done a much better job at spoiling the story already.
Like most of the movies this summer, it begins with Messi doing tricks with a can of Pepsi. Then some more ads, some trailers, where the hell did I put those 3d glasses?, and finally Mr. Cruise.
Despite his initial reluctance to fight, Mr. Cruise is traveling back and forth in time, fighting alien robots. Whenever he dies, he can start over and change things a bit to live a bit longer. Like in a game where you can't save and you start over every time you die (but unlike a game where you can't save, you cannot even press Pause when you need to go to the loo). In his quest he's aided by Mrs. Blunt, who's quite feminist at first but she gets around rather quickly. I guess his badass suit -that everyone is wearing- and convincing story help a bit and break the ice. Probably the small wooden box he stands on also helps a bit, although we don't see it in the movie. I'm not telling he's small (you can see that for yourself), but if he had played in the Hobbit a lot of money could have been saved on the CGI. A few deaths later, he's getting quite good and actually learns to configure the suit and use it to kill the baddies. Surprisingly for an American weapon, it has instructions in multiple languages (not Arabian, though, for whatever reason). He also gets extra help from Mrs. Blunt, who helps him in her spare time. In her busy time, she's doing push-ups or Yoga. Contributing to the overall success is a brilliant professor who looks like a not-so-brilliant janitor. This professor built a device that can somehow help with time travel issues. You know it works, as your eyes get colored in black when everything goes alright.
One of the more intense moments of the movie is when Mr. Cruise gathers his mates around him and says "I know what I'm about to say will sound crazy". I put popcorn aside, moved to the edge of the seat and held my breath waiting for him to say "Scientology is drivel". But he did not, he went on about time travel (which, in comparison, is not that crazy). Such a lost opportunity, that could have been the best (and unexpected) movie ending in a long time. So that was not the most intense moments of the movie, after all.
Another intense moment is when she wants to shoot him as usual but he tells her not to, as he's not coming back this time because he lost the ability to rejuvenate (you wouldn't expect Mr. Cruise to use such elevated words, and you're right; he doesn't). Unfortunately, this moment is spoiled again, this time by Mrs. Blunt, as she doesn't shoot him.
There's another scene packed with suspense towards the end of the movie, when they drive a ship (no, I actually got it right) between Eiffel Tower and Le Louvre in a final attempt to destroy the ultimate alien. Paris looks as lovely as ever, but you notice this only briefly, as tension escalates during the chase (I still didn't get to go to the loo). Despite the frantic pace, it takes a while, probably as long as it takes to walk that distance in real life. And it should take even less, as there's no people getting in the way and offering to sell them Eiffel Tower key-chains or bottled water for 3 euros. But, as you may have guessed already, it's just another disappointing moment, as Mr. Cruise does not get killed. On the plus side, the movie ends shortly after this.
One thing that confuses me is why in military planes people stay sideways. Not only it's less efficient, as you can only carry a few people in one plane and pollute more, but you'd think facing forward would be more intuitive, especially if jumping from the plane is expected at some point and you're probably curios about what's ahead. The best explanation I could come up with is that they're flying toward East, and they want to avoid sun going in their eyes (even those wearing sunglasses). Either that, or they want to make sure they don't bother anyone when they need to use the bathroom. Of course, it could only be to encourage communication.
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