It’s Friday, which is the day that, when I can be bothered, I post something that I claim is art, even though it really isn’t.
Even accepting the notion that art is in the eye of the beholder, and that anything can therefore qualify as art, it would be a stretch to claim I’ve actually achieved anything remotely artistic with my ‘Artist’s Corner’ feature.
But today that’s about to change because, ladies and gentlemen of the blogosphere, I give you this masterpiece:
Now you might claim that all I’ve done here is rip the label off a tin of tomatoes and replaced it with a white self adhesive label onto which I’ve written the word worms.
And you’d be right, that is all I’ve done.
It isn’t an actual can of worms and not even a particularly gullible small child would fall for it. Mrs Proclaims was, nonetheless, a tad apprehensive when I opened the above can earlier this week to make a sea food pasta dish. She ate it but she did eye the squid with a little more suspicion than usual.
But it is art nonetheless, because my ‘can of worms’ is representative of all of the metaphorical ‘cans of worms’ being opened at the moment, all over the world (but often by one man in particular…).
When you think about it I’ve been very very clever here.
I feel a mild disclaimer is required for this particular piece of fiction. I hope it’s clear that I’m parodying a particular genre and everything below was written with tongue firmly in cheek. Nonetheless I can’t ignore the fact that this particular genre is quite popular commercially so I reserve the right to adopt ‘Professor Peter Turnbottle’, without even a hint irony, as the hero of a novel that I may write in a shameless attempt to secure an agent and book deal in the future.
Professor Peter Turnbottle examined the letter again. It made no more sense upon the second reading.
“Contained in this note is a warning
That a day full of peril is dawning
I advise you leave now
Or I fail to see how
You won’t draw your last breath this morning.” Continue reading The Limerick Code
If like me, you have a track record of buying home fitness equipment and not really using it, then this 16kg kettlebell is just what you’ve been looking for.
Unlike that enormous weights bench, which sat in your parents’ garage long after you left home, this kettlebell is relatively easy to transport. A cautionary note, it does weigh 16kg, which is quite heavy if you’re travelling on public transport, but it will fit easily into the smallest of cars, which means that relocation shouldn’t stop you from keeping (and not using) your kettlebell forever. Continue reading James Reviews a 16kg kettlebell
I think I’m often misrepresented as someone who doesn’t really like other people. I’m overly sarcastic and it’s been suggested more than once that I don’t suffer fools gladly. I suppose that’s true, I don’t ‘suffer’ anything gladly. Who suffers gladly?
But I’ve got nothing against fools who don’t make me suffer.