Harry Potter, the Cursed Child and the City of Towers

Well it appears my old Mate Harry Potter, well not quite mate, but lets not split hares (YUCK) is sneaking back into the limelight with a new high profile play in the West End. I think its the West End although I am not sure what it is the end of. Anyway as you might expect I know absolutely nothing about this Play because of several things. For a start off I think Mrs JK Rowling thinks I am some sort of mad loony who is best ignored hoping I might get bored and runaway again . . . Actually I am only slightly annoying because she is a bit left wing politically and tends to tell it as she sees it and I like that in a chap. . . . OK she is not a chap.  Harry himself has long thought I am a mad bloke who gets stuff wrong all the time, OK so I accept he did not get to Hogwarts through the back of a wardrobe, but it is a easy mistake to make. Trains, wardrobes they are very similar and he did insist in hiding under the stairs a lot.  Add to this the rather disturbing news that the established writing fraternity have got it into their heads that I am the worst writer in the world and that I should be avoided at all costs. Which is why you sometimes see folk wearing paper bags on their heads in Pie Shops (sorry I mean Book Shops) . . . .  it generally means I am not far away.

The one thing I do know about this new play is that it is set nineteen years later from the end of the last book or film if you took the easy route. And it appears that Harry Potter has been working hard in the Ministry of Magic all this time. WHAT that does not seem like Harry to me, OK he was turning into a bit of a grump bag as time passed but then he did have that Gandalf trying to do him in all the time. But nineteen years as a bureaucratic administrator well that is terrible, even I feel a bit sorry for him. It just goes to show how fickle life is and it might explain the name of the play . . . . Harry Potter and the Cursed Child . . . . . I suspect deep down Harry wanted to be an Astronaut or an explorer or a wild mad Professor, and I can see that at some point all that administration was going to make him crack up. And all that responsibility of a young family to look after.  So the wizard’s world of magic might not be all it is cracked up to be. 

The one thing above all others that I am curious about though is not Harry Potter or the curse, but the flying Birds Nest . . . . . . . . . .Now that is COOL, I plan to draw one of them.

OOooooooo in readiness for the village hall valentine’s lunch on Sunday today I made the City of Towers out of cardboard. . . . . . .      

Artificial Intelligence and the Flaws in the Development of the Modern Robot

OOOoooooo how time flies which is plainly a silly saying because in reality it does not, although if it does then science has a lot of catching up to do. But of course all I mean is it only seems like yesterday when I was thinking, now what will I write tomorrow (OK that was yesterday). Actually I think that everyday because if there is one certainty in my diary it is that I really don’t know what I am going to write until I start typing and I am a terrible typist. 

I may have mentioned I got a rather nice book to draw in that had a chirpy friendly looking robot on the cover and so I thought I must draw some robots. Well as it happens I think we might just see a bit of a robot trend this year (one of my predictions for the year) because artificial intelligence is improving all the time. The thing is I for one am a little worried. . . No not that we are about to be attacked by our own robots or ones from outer space, although both options would make great diary entries for the future. . . No what worries me is what these robots will look like.

Lets just consider the history of robots from the point of view of image there was a time in the early days when they looked like men wearing cardboard boxes held together with tape, string and glue, with the workings of a grandfather clock and Professor Frankenstein’s left over’s.  But then in the fifties and sixties there were some good looking robots made and drawn. Then the technology started to catch up with man's desire to make a walking talking robot, but of course man has always wanted to make robots look just like us. So today robots just look a bit boring. I am not implying you all look boring. Even I look a bit boring even though today I was told I really need to do  something with my hair because it looked as mad as a mad march hare riding a unicycle on a trampoline being attacked by bees . . . Yes I was rather pleased, but I don’t think that was the desired response.

Think of it as the difference between the modern train and the old classic steam trains from the past, which one looks cool and which one looks just a bit dull. Now some will argue that the new one is efficient, quiet and comfortable but it  is all plastic and no style. And this is what is happening to the world of Robots. And if they do turn round and attack us it will be because we have turned them into boring faceless cheap but efficient imitations of mankind. Well if I was a robot that would annoy me a lot, I would want to look like one of those cool robots from the past and I would be asking us humans why I don’t and I would expect a damn good answer or else.  

To me it seems rather ironic that we could end up with super efficient robots that look like us because if there is one thing humans are not it is efficient (I am not even slightly efficient). So we could end up with robots that resent looking like humans and who are rather more efficient at being human but without all the rude and sweaty bits.

And why am I writing this today, because I drew my first robot in my new book. . . . . . . .    

         

The Theory of Nothing and its use in avoiding Zombies, Cardboard Art and three potatoes

I am here again today even though I have almost entirely done nothing, yes Ok I cant actually entirely do nothing partly because the human body has to do something or it would fall over dead and in doing so mean it has done something although it would find it hard to write about in afterwards. And in science the concept of nothing is rather difficult because even an empty space entirely emptied of air and any loose atoms floating about is still an empty space and so has substance (although not a lot).

It may be useful to know that if you are trapped into a corner by Zombies which quite frankly should not happen, they are after all a little slow and not the brightest sparks in the bicycle shed. Yes another old saying from the days of bicycles, rather popular also in China in the late seventies for reasons plainly obvious to a historian of world bicycles. AH DAMN distracted again………

Anyway as I was saying if you are trapped in a corner by Zombies don’t panic firmly tell them to SIT and then explain that as homework they need to tell you all about nothing and how the universe started from a point of nothing so small that it’s tiny. This is a hard thing for a Zombie to understand and while they ponder this and look at one another in a slight panic hoping one of the others might stick their hand up to answer you calmly walk away and tell them they must write nothing one hundred times until it sinks in and they get the point (that’s the tiny point that started all the problems involved with the start of the universe).

OK  yes MMMMmmmmmm today; as I said I did not do a lot but I did buy cheese, eat a bacon butty and posted a letter, carried three large potatoes and did not look at the fish. I then drank tea, ate some cheese in a roll, drank some more tea and looked out the window, the last time I did that the Sparrow Hawk ate a Robin so it was a bit of a worry although this time it was OK (not for the Robin).

I then when to the hospital that Mr M was in because he got very friendly with a Mr P and I said I would go and see Mr P again to make sure he was OK, which he is. Mr P went home for a day this week for a trial run, but although his house is looking good the council have managed to ensure he has no hot water so it is being fixed and he hopes to go home at the end of next week all being well.

I then returned home and have done a tiny bit of cardboard arty stuff for the grand master plan, a plan that consists of almost entirely nothing………….

The Birds, the Bird Cage and the Hubble Traveller.

It was coldish today although not as cold as yesterday, this allowed me to leap into a muddy hole and also wave a pointy stick about in a moderately enthusiastic way. I have also started to make a small flock of cardboard birds and have some special paper to cover them in; this is I have been told magic paper and the small cardboard birds will be capable of flying once complete. So I have obtained a suitable bird cage that was taken from a Moroccan palace deep in the High Atlas Mountains by a traveller many many years ago and has been hidden away in a secret place far from prying eyes as the prince who owned the cage, who was not amused and threatened the humble traveller who ran of with it with a fate worse than death. I once went to a village fate myself that was like that so I can understand why the humble traveller hid the rather posh bird cage.

In a moment of rash madness this morning before my brain had entirely got to working speed I volunteered to stick my head into a sewage system to give my expert opinion tomorrow. Folk know that I tend to have a weakness for deep dark muddy holes, but just maybe I might have made a mistake as the other chap who was asked ran off screaming saying o god no not that one again. I will no doubt report back tomorrow, although it should be remembered I am no longer writing my diary everyday despite what it may look like superficially on the surface. 

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A traditional Sunday in a funny sort of way

Today has been a funny day, when I say funny I do not mean in a light up revolving bow tie sort of way with amusing fish and small mechanical boxes that chuckle and giggle at anything and everything particularly if it involves an amusing fish. NO I refer to funny as in sort of odd but not odd say like a three headed goose singing close harmony acapella church music to the tune of Smoke on the Water, I simply refer to it being a funny day as in the old saying meaning it has been a funny sort of day.  I think I should leave trying to explain this and get to the point.

After a chilled sort of start to the day, it was (is) Sunday after all; I decided to do a bit of Cardboard Arty stuff as I have things to finish as part of The Monty Cardboard Robot Clubs expansion plans into the giddy heights of artist elitism. We plan to make up complex arty stories to confuse the punters and then charge them loads of money. . . . .  Mr F had to head off along the twisty roads towards home, although I must admit after the first twenty miles he was on motorways most of the way and they are not really twisty.

Then Mr Bruce and Miss C called by to see us, we have not seen them in ages, so we had a long chat before we had to run off to see Mr M in his new Hospital. He appears much happier in his new hospital, I got to play with the controls to his all singing and dancing bed, all sing and dancing is another silly saying because things like beds seldom do either let alone both at the same time.

So that was my day , I have noticed that Sundays are starting to get like the old Sundays talked about by folk who remember the old days when Sundays were really low key and you would spend the afternoon watching an old black and white cowboy film starring Gary Cooper or if you were really desperate Rin Tin Tin.

OOOOoooooo hang on what’s that you say Skippy; Rin Tin Tin fell down the old mine shaft and was eaten by aliens . . . . . . . . . . HAH HAH HAH AH HAH Ahah hah ahah hah ah ha hah ah aah h ahahah hahah ah ah ahahahhah aha h aha ha haha ha ha ha . . . . . 

Sand Circles. Aliens and a Wet Sunday Afternoon

Having been away on a secret mission at the coast for a week in Pembrokeshire where it was warm and sunny, yes that is a bit of a shock but luckily I managed to make Whalesimus the Micro God of Sunny beaches and holiday homes and his trusty Horse of the Sea. However he is not the Micro God of Home and so it is raining today somewhat, more that somewhat really.  I did say I would tell of some of my adventures and as today is cold and damp and I am doing very little in the tradition of a cold damp autumn Sunday, now is a good time to start.  I am sure you will be interested to know that there was much communication with aliens using the old classic Sand Circles method as favoured by many of the less aggressive aliens. Sadly Mr Jones was unable to visit us, but he did send the Ghost Writer down to help interpret messages and supply us with a suitable pointy stick to reply.

I also at one point had to save a dog fish from a rather aggressive seagull, I should point out all seagulls are aggressive even the friendly ones (this was not a friendly seagull). The poor old dog fish was stranded on the beach, I suspect left there by a dog who was annoyed by a fish pretending to be a dog. So the dog was sort of saying OK then Mr Clever lets see you do walkies, which the dog fish failed at rather badly allowing a mad seagull to attempt to eat it alive, not a nice thing to do.  So I returned the dog fish to a deep rock pool where it appeared to recover a bit although I will never know for sure if the dog fish managed to recover and make its way back to the safety of the sea (the world is full of such unknowns)…

I also met a talking telescope which demanded money or it was not going to tell us a thing, I told it that was extortion and I refused to pay him so he just sat there pretending to ignore us. Talking telescopes it appears are unsociable beasts who spend most of their time looking blankly out to sea in a grump.

Right well for now that is about it as I may go and attempt to shrug off the grey cloak of a damp autumn Sunday far from the nearest IKEA.  I will show you conclusive prove of aliens breeding on the beaches of Britain in the next few days, it was a bit of a shock to me too but the camera can not lie.

The rather quick Robot Post

One small step for man, One giant leap for Cardboard Robots........



AH yes . . . . . . . . I am off out tonight for a curry so all a bit of a rush . . . . . Sorry

I may return later.........

We have returned from our curry in Monty with Mr Charlie and Miss Jane, we all had our usual, we are rather predictable about our curries. I have been eating almost the same curry when I go out for a meal for nearly a million years, which is a long time, although back then they did do a rather good Pterodactyl starter which was very popular. In fact maybe a bit too popular, but it was a great party when we finally ate the last one . . .  How we laughed.

Tonight we discussed Spam not the internet annoyance that plagues the internet with instant make things bigger, make bits vanish or make loads of money doing nothing except blink at a frog once an hour on Sundays. No we talked about Spam the pork based tin of meat we all love or hate and how people either love or hate it. We then talked about family history and other stuff before finally arriving at a discussion about my diary and how it is now much longer and rather more interesting than War and Peace. However Mr Charlie and Miss Jane do not read my diary. So it has been decided I would make a friend request on FB to Mr Charlie after he drew the short straw, he drew it on his napkin like Picasso used to do when he went to restaurants. Sadly the waiter refused to accept the drawing as payment for the meal despite the fact we explained Picasso did it all the time (while he was alive, he no longer does this).

Mr Charlie is a bit of a mechanical whizz chap with many interesting and useful skills so I have explained that my diary is full of very useful information like there are no trees on the moon apparently. Dad and me are still working on a solution to this for our commercial moon flights. In the short term we are selling one way tickets since they are remarkably popular at present for trips to Mars.

Anyway I think in anticipation of Mr Charlie arriving in a blasé of glory I must say  . . . . . . Hello Mr Charlie;  Ooooooo I cant type by the way or spell so sometimes things make no sense.  

Romantic fiction and its place in the modern school system..

I have been asked to rally the troops so to speak, as the headmaster says we are due and inspection by NASA or is it GCHQ or the RSPCA, well who ever does school inspections to assess how we are doing since we became an academy. There is talk of manipulation of figures and cooking the books by the government. This is not good, have you ever tried to eat a cooked book or even read it, it is extremely difficult particularly if boiled and someone tells you it is semolina pudding with pink icing. It is amazing just how much semolina the works of Barbara Cartland will produce, on the bright side though the school Library has no longer got a romantic fiction section.

Anyway back to the point, it appears that the Headmaster has also manipulated his statistics and has slightly lied about the number of pupils attending the school. So in order to rectify this we are going to make papier-mâché pupils to help with the pupil numbers. And just by luck the school semolina was rather unpopular seeing how it is a paper based pudding so we have estimated we can make at least 50 new pupils with it.

So we spent much of the day in the art class making robots, sorry I mean pupils out of  papier-mâché, well that was the plan; but it did not entirely go to plan. Esmeralda does not like the present school bus driver and has made a replacement one to replace him. I tried to explain it can’t drive but she reckons it will do a better job than the present one. It is not entirely his fault since pointy sticks became part of the school uniform some pupils say he might be a Zombie and are rather enthusiastic with their pointy sticks.

Freddie has spent the day making papier-mâché ferrets and we at least do have 25 new school ferrets although the headmaster says they don’t really count. Well that’s not true they can count to twenty three and a half without assistance (that’s the real ferrets not the papier-mâché ferrets).

I as a member of The Monty Cardboard Robot Club felt duty bound to do my duty and make a robot, so I did and although the headmaster said it was quite a good robot it was not going to convince the inspectors it was a pupil even if it did threaten to destroy them with its death ray and pointy stick.

Tomorrow we plan to work on plan B well I say we I mean the headmaster, he says our help was well intentioned but rubbish, personally I think it was the choice of book; romantic fiction has never really made good school pupils………. 

The Monty Cardboard Robot Club and organizing Britain's First Commercial Rocket Flights to the Moon

Here at the Monty Cardboard Robot Club we take our Rocket building seriously, not like that Harry Potter chap, you don’t see him making rockets. There is much talk of commercial flights into space and space tourism and so we plan to have a slice of the action with our patent Steam Powered Cardboard Rocket. One of the first differences you will notice with our rocket is that you can open the window in order to be able to wave at folk during takeoff.  However it will also have a small warning sign warning passengers on our return trip to the moon that it is ill advised to open the window once in space, there will be a disclaimer about this on the ticket as we are not stupid.

Some may question making this rocket in cardboard, but it is light and robust meaning we can save fuel for the flight or squeeze a few more into economy (they don’t get a window to look out of).

However one small issue is dad has made me move wood about all day today from one place to another, which he says he needs to test the steam engine, he has suggested a wood fired steam engine so that once on the moon passengers can replenish the fuel supply from the virgin forests of the moon, which are as yet untouched by man (a chain saw will be available). I am a little concerned that if the trips became popular we might end up destroying the moons forest for ever, a very distinct possibility if we make our fortune, but sometimes in order to make an honest living we must destroy the odd forest.

Mum says we are IDIOTS and that there are no forests on the moon  . . . . . . WHAT surely NASA could not have chopped down all the trees already. You would think that they would have taken more care and made efficient spacecraft; You see what happens when you make rockets with metal they use loads of fuel…..

Mum has said IDIOTS again? 

The Ghost Writer and the Wedding Present from The Monty Cardboard Robot Club

It is a little late to start The Slightly Eccentric Diary of Rob Z Tobor (volume four) so I think we will leave this until tomorrow, but in order to keep everyone up to date I erected a large tent today. The Ghost Writer also finally finished and delivered his Wedding Present to Mr S and Mrs I (formally Miss I) and there are huge numbers of crane flies about also known here in Britain as Daddy long Legs. But as I have said it is a little late.

Some of you will notice that the wedding present involves a box of painted blue sea (a product of The Monty Cardboard Robot Club), thus explaining certain mad diary entries lately. 

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The Machines of the Fields and the Monty Cardboard Robot Club

We are rapidly reaching the end of another years diary (book three) as the school holidays are almost over and the notorious end of holiday machines are starting to clear the fields of crops in order to locate any escaped children who were hoping to hide amongst the wheat and barley.  I am resorting to plan B now and growing a large handle bar moustache, OK I am making one out of cardboard and plan to stand about in a masterly way looking important and giving instructions and telling small children to go to bed with no supper, which is what most adults do.

The Ghost Writer is now an official member of the Monty Cardboard Robot Club so that he can use my expertise as a producer of cardboard sculpture to create a cardboard masterpiece. Which the Ghost Writer is planning to give as a present, which is just as well because the one disadvantage to creating great masterpieces in cardboard is that folk will not buy cardboard art. Well they will not buy cardboard art from the Monty Cardboard Robot Club, but then it is a cult organisation and in years to come folk will tell of the legends of its strange and eccentric members who skulked in the shadows of recycling skips discussing the quality of cardboard.

Today by the way has been relatively peaceful; if you ignore the fact huge machines have removed the planned hiding places of small children and Zombies (that’s small Zombies not large Zombies).  I have had a chat with Mrs E, the person formally known as Miss I who is planning to sign her name with a squiggly symbol until she has mastered writing her surname quickly.   And I have taught the Ghost Writer to paint the sea blue (actually he is rubbish at it) and I have looked for bats.   

How to Paint the Sea Blue and other Useful Information

I painted the sea blue today; not all of it of course because trying to do that would be silly, it would take a least a week and I would need some help doing all the edges, and besides I was not actually anywhere near the sea. No what I was painting was a box of sea, not a huge one, but one large enough for a steam boat and some sea beasts, although I have to admit waves are harder to paint that you think as they have a tendency to move about a bit. It like that old saying TIME and tide wait for no MAN, interestingly if you have ever been offshore one thing you learn (so I’ve been told) is that time offshore is different to time onshore and it can move faster or slower depending on all sorts of curious factors.  The same is also true too some degree of a box of sea, as time can be a bit subjective and the result was I have been able to paint the entire sea available to me…..

While on the subject of moving water the Zombie defence system has been refined and fitted with drainage pipes to allow water to flow through them, because Zombies hate moving water.  Its true, when did you last see a Zombie having a wash or a shower, they hate them, and Zombies are seriously bad swimmers and never paddle in the sea, which means that Zombies are no help when you are painting the sea blue. They are also fairly hopeless at painting straight lines so asking them to paint an undulating line that sweeps in and out in a lovely mix of curves and shapes would just confuse them.

Oooooo and we had roast potatoes tonight and runner beans supplied by Mr Kris who called by earlier, And I have just cleaned one of the patio door windows which appears to have been painted by a Zombie who was practicing painting the sea just in case he was asked to help. I am not sure how he breached the defence system; he must be a clever Zombie although his painting skills are as bad as all the others. 

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Boats, Moons and a quick Hello and Goodnignt

I am back at the helm I can say that because while I was away I made the boat the helm is attached to, so in other words I can take the helm with me.

This is a short diary entry because it is near as damn it midnight, and probably will be by the time I get this in cyberspace, but in short PHEW its hot . . . . And Hay that moon looks cool, I got a picture of it using my little telescope so WELL COOL indeed.

After saying farewell to Mr F and heading home Mr F came to see us and arrived just an hour or so after we did, so he is staying for a couple of days, but he has to head home to be in work Monday morning.

I will tell of our trip tomorrow but it is good to be back in the West among the rolling hills of the English Welsh borders . . . . . . . So for now GOOD NIGHT . . . .  

Praying Mantis on the Shropshire Plains

Our good friend Mr F has come to visit, in fact he made it here before I had even got out of bed, but as we are now chatting to Mr F giving him the time to relax and chill I must be quick and to the point. So today I made a Praying Mantis because Mr ESB has three real Praying Mantis roaming about in his garden which is WELL COOL. A paper and card Praying Mantis is not really the same but this is Shropshire and I don’t think they like it here much…..

Small Ships in Big Seas and Bigger Fish to Fry in the World of Cardboard Art

Guess what …….. Yes it is DAMN hot again, but I won’t go on about it, I am not like those other Brits; you will never hear me complaining about the weather . . . . . . . . (Much . . . . . . . OK a bit). As it happens I had bigger fish to fry so to speak which is an ideal saying as it happens because not only could I have fried a fish on the patio today, but I was left with two and a half hours maximum to come up with a brilliant idea for the over enthusiastic small children who I am sort of doing art with in the junior school at Monty. I think all the heat made me decide that what we needed was a sea theme so bigger fish to fry is a very suitable saying indeed I also love fried fish YUM. So I created (in a mad rush) the sea and a pirate boat so that the small enthusiastic children could decorate the sea with fish and sea monsters  . . . . . OK sea monsters, small children love a few sea monsters and as it happens so do I, although I must admit they are better when they are huge real sea monsters with loads of pointy teeth eating sun bathers on Brighton Beach.

I sort of nicked a bit of Moroccan blue paint to paint the sea so as long as I don’t write about that in my diary mum and dad will never know . . . . . . . . . AH DAMN. Still it did make the sea look WELL COOL although in passing I should say it was rather a hot day (VERY VERY HOOOOOOT). 

At the school the enthusiastic small children were rather frazzled by the heat so drawing sea monsters and fish was more than they were capable of doing so we tried musical chairs which worked for a short time but it was too hot to run about so was only a temporary solution in the end we were left with making fans, not the ones that run about screaming, but the ones you flap about in your own face to remain cool. I can make a good fan so it kept one or two of them quite for a while (a very short while), I then staggered home in the heat and will remain hidden until it cools down.  Mr F is going to visit us tomorrow and will stop for a few days so I may have to do rather short diary entries, it may be regarded as rather antisocial to hid on a PC when you have old friends stopping………

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The Shape of the Universe and Tea Bags

My diary of late has got rather quiet its existence in the parallel media's of cyberspace both showing signs that the great masses have left leaving only a few die hards and my good friends at GCHQ who know that it is better to monitor a friendly face rather than that of an annoyed face, or worse still an angry face. Would you while waiting in the rain at the bus stop in a queue for the bus that is late rather watch the smiling man or the angry man who might see you looking at him, I think the choice is plain always watch the happy man it is safer.

And so tonight after a quiet day and I mean quiet (although we are off to Big Bill’s Greasy Fur Ball Café tonight for a meal) I have decided to discuss the shape of the universe. As you know only a couple of days ago I mentioned the origin of life and as a result Mr H from the cyber-world asked me if I knew the shape of the universe. Now I know it is not something that most folk know but funnily enough I do, so I thought I could let you all know too. I have sort of mentioned this to Mr H already in reply to his comment because he knew it had to do with tea bags but was getting a bit confused and I forgot to mention the exact shape of the tea bag to him (very sorry Mr H) so I will now clarify it to everyone. I am going for my second Nobel Prize in less that a week.

So consider a round teabag (a bit like a squashed flying Saucer) and that you could fold  the edge back into the middle to a point known as The Absolute point of Universe, the point where the so called big bang occurred. And you then flattened out the teabag into a teabag shape again you would fundamentally have a teabag with no edges, which is important because the universe can not have edges just a force to hold its shape together (the material of the teabag itself). The tea  in the teabag is then split equally between the two sides of the teabag either side of The Absolute Point of Universe a point so small not even an electron can get through it, this tea is the substance of the universe itself planets, stars and the like, and one side represents matter the other Antimatter. The fabric of the teabag where it is squashed together can therefore sometimes get small holes worn in it due to the forces generated and these are called Black Holes where the matter falls into the antimatter.

Of course the sort of flying saucer shape is created by the spin of the universe where material is thrown out along the line of centrifugal effect; however the one thing that can ruin a good universe is a huge kettle of hot water which destroys many of the forces that hold it together. And this can be made much worse by God squeezing the teabag against the side of his mug turning everything we know and understand into a soggy shapeless mass.

I hope next time you are asked what is the Shape of the Universe you will all say ………..AH FUNNY YOU SHOULD ASK THAT BECAUSE. . . . . . . .

Animal-Scopes and other things of no importance

The weather was not so good today much colder and showers all day, but I was planning on doing some work inside by starting to make an Animal-Scope. The idea is that the children I am presently doing some art with in the local junior school can use the Animal-Scope to display their animals on it that they cut out last week, well that’s the plan anyway. I have discovered that in respect to art and small children plans are not a good idea but none the less I have one I am working to for now. So I have created the basic structure of an all cardboard Animal Scope, although moving parts in cardboard when you are trying to avoid spending too much time on the thing is tricky.

I have plans in the future to make some more Animal-Scopes because I think there is some mileage in the idea and it would be good to make a couple of them when I have more time (I need more time, time is annoying).  Anyway I have a few fiddly bits to sort before Tuesday so I will have to do a bit of time management which is one thing I am rubbish at as it happens.

I noticed on the radio this morning (faithful Radio 4) that they were discussing the WorldWorm Charming Championships that were happening today in the UK, not something I have heard of before and I have seen a few signs by the side of the road locally for the British Stone Skimming Championships which are happening just up the road a couple of miles away next weekend. It is strange what folk get up too when they are not making Animal-Scopes.

Ooooooo yes Miss I and Mr S called by as they had gone to see the Castle of the Bishop, and Miss Anne sent a message last night to say she had headed off to London on her canal boat last month and will be back sometime next month. Canal boats are like that not speedy beasts.

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The rather unforgiving properties of structural integrity and gravitatianal stability in Art

Tuesday the day of teaching young children art, well I use the word teach loosely because if there is one thing I can’t do it is teach young children.  I arrived at the local junior schools after school club slightly early while they were still getting food and drink to keep them lively and bouncy. Luckily I had managed to turn a crocodile, a dragonfly and a dog which the children drew last week into large cardboard self standing cardboard things, although I did have to tweak just a few tiny things to deal with the rather unforgiving properties of structural integrity and stability. Yes even art can not entirely escape the forces of gravity and nature sadly, which as an artist I have to admit is rather annoying. However very young children are not entirely aware of the overall principles of structural integrity and generally see gravity as a mere trifle to wave away as unimportant, until they fall over and drop their trifle. 

They also eat artistic ideas like a huge man eating sea monster eats men on Brighton beach on a sunny bank holiday Monday when it is knee deep in holiday makers and sea monster watchers and ice cream is half price during happy hour. Of course happy hour under those circumstances is less happy that it could be as everyone (and that’s loads of folk) are being eaten by a sea monster or monsters.  I would say that teaching art to small children is much like being eaten by sea monsters, I am starting to think I may have to make some sea monsters in order to keep them focused on art, although I did do one sneaky thing with today’s lot I mentioned maths. This I thought would slow them up a bit but for reasons I find difficult to comprehend it appears they are all rather keen on a bit of maths and it did not slow the whiz of pencils and the snipping of scissors as I tried to explain that most legs are a bit fatter at the top of the leg where it joins the body and thin at the other end and at least one lad did realize this after all the legs fell off his spider drawing when he cut it out. In the end a bit of Algebra confused them and square roots seemed to confuse a couple of them a bit, but they are only about seven; interestingly algebra and square roots seem to confuse folk who are seventy also, but I guess 7 is not the best number for square roots.

I would mention the rest of the day but I need to rest. . . . . . 

President Putin, Prime Minister Cameron, and the Fathers Day shock. A G8 summit of World Leaders, Steven Spielberg, children and cardboard animals.

As you know, well you do if you are a regular reader of my diary, and I am assuming that includes most folk across the entire world. You may consider that a little unlikely but an event has occurred that has made me think I am in fact more well known that I thought. You see, (and back to the point I was going to make) the other day I posted a picture of my original painting of President Putin in my diary, then today he turns up in Britain and it can only be that he wants it back so it can hang back above his desk in the Kremlin. So you see I am followed by world leaders, in fact I have reason to believe that several of the worlds leaders plan to meet in the next couple of days to discuss my diary to negotiate parts in the movie once that nice Steven Spielberg stops haggling over the fee for the manuscript.

Mum however says I am an Idiot and I need to remember two things the first is that President Putin is here to see the Prime Minister David Cameron and the second it that it is Fathers Day . . . . . Surely David Cameron cant be his father they don’t look remotely like they are related, just look at their hair styles. Well I have to say that is something of a shock to me I am surprised it has not be mentioned to me before, but it explains a few things I have never been able to work out.

As it was Fathers Day I said I would cut the grass and hammer in post supports and do men’s work so that dad could rest, he said I was very kind, but that he was planning on sending me out to do it all anyway so it didn’t count and that he would eat all my chocolate teacakes instead. I was a bit tired after all that grass cutting and was planning on having a quiet sit down, but dad very kindly reminded me that I still had things to do on those cardboard animal shapes for all those impetuous school children I am assisting in their art project.  Strangely there is more in common between the children in the junior school running about drawing pictures in a mad rushed way and a G8 summit meeting that you might realize, they are certainly both slightly out of control that’s for sure although I suspect world leaders are rubbish at making cardboard animals even if I helped them.    

The old homemade Cardboard Christmas tree and parties in the cold

We are off to Monty Town Hall tonight with Mr Charlie and Miss Jane to a curry and music night, it should be good. The only real worry is that Montgomery town hall’s heating system sort of failed in the summer and I think due to county politics it still is does not work (I hope I am wrong about that) so with the temp tonight being round about zero degrees C it may be somewhat on the cold side or as dad puts it ************* ******* freezing.  It may be that everyone will need to leap about, due to technical problems I do not leap about myself, and it will be interesting for the band because as a djembe player I must admit I do not like playing in the cold, although you do warm up fairly quickly playing drums. So as long as there are no harp players it might be OK.

I have also dusted off the old Cardboard Christmas tree  made as part of the Christmas window for Napoleon Beelzebub’s Very Strange Victorian Curiosity Shop and have given it a test run, and all is well. Because we are not involved with his strange little shop this year, since he vanished into the eternal depths shouting HUMBUG and other words of a similar nature we can be a bit more Christmassy at home, although I am not allowed to attach eliminated? Sorry I mean illuminated pink Flamingos with flashing beaks on top of the chimney which seems a bit unfair.

     

Anyway I will be wearing loads of layers tonight just in case and if I do get too hot I can pretend to be a hamster and dose in the corner.

So that’s about it for today although I think I can now multi-track myself playing Djembe, I did have a little test run but I was a bit to cold so was not entirely happy with the final result. It also appears I am a bit too maverick to play along with, even when I am playing along with myself.  This is why bands split up all those egos competing with one another, and I am starting to learn it is even worse when all the egos are your own. I had to tell the rhythm section off earlier and then got in a strop because I had been told off for improvising in the rhythm section.  I was hoping that I would not notice.

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