Going down all sorts of rabbit holes as I thumb through Arundhati Roy’s Mother Mary Comes to Me.. Here’s Uncle G Isaac. Fairly certain I have come across the Nigerian version umpteen times


Out and about in Woking


Most of us are a living, breathing soup of memory and imagination… We may not be the best arbiters of which is which.

Arundhati Roy in Mother Mary Comes to Me


Bold predictions on AGI from Mustapha Suleiman.. Fascinating, though I’m less bullish for next year. What Now? with Trevor Noah: Will AI Save Humanity or End It? with Mustafa Suleyman


The Avicii doc on netflix makes for a heavy watch for me..


Last day out in Den Haag for a bit….


2025 Reading: Mother Mary Comes to Me by Arundhati Roy 📚 #Diving In


One Friday of summer


4 out of 4.. Bailed out by a penalty from a brain fart.. hopefully Isak brings some improvement to that front line


My cue to switch to antennapod now, I guess… Pocketcast it was a great run


Oh Rangers…. All gone to pants



On the train for the first time in a bit… Still cheesed off by folk playing music quite loudly without headphones…..


This week Pádraig Ó Tuama asks us what poem we want to learn by heart and why? Lots to think of but Yusef Komunyakaa’s Ode to the Drum is never far from a favourite for me:


Gazelle, I killed you
for your skin’s exquisite touch,
for how easy it is to be nailed to a board
weathered raw as white butcher paper.
Last night I heard my daughter praying
for the meat here at my feet.
You know it wasn’t anger
that made me stop my heart
till the hammer fell. Weeks
ago, I broke you as a woman
once shattered me into a song
beneath her weight, before
you slouched into that
grassy hush. But now
I’m tightening lashes,
shaping hide as if around
a ribcage, stretched
like five bowstrings.
Ghosts cannot slip back
inside the body’s drum.
You’ve been seasoned
by wind, dusk & sunlight.
Pressure can make everything
whole again, brass nails
tacked into the ebony wood
your face has been carved
five times. I have to drive
trouble from the valley.
Trouble in the hills.
Trouble on the river too.
There’s no kola nut,
palm wine, fish, salt,
or calabash. Kadoom.
Kadoom. Kadoom. Ka-
doooom. Kadoom. Now
I have beaten a song back into you,
rise & walk away like a panther.

From The Internet Poetry Archive


Pausing a project three years into construction never boded well for this…. But still, that’s a big haircut/ write down www.theguardian.com/business/…


The Man United “curse” strikes again it seems : www.bbc.co.uk/sport/foo…


I always come back to Fedora Silverblue on my (used) ThinkPad X1 Nano Gen 2 for the sweet spot of battery life, weight and portability. Shame Lenovo discontinued the X1 Nano line :(


Spotted, a year ago


A Man on the Inside has quite grown on me


Won at the end undeservedly, but will take any three points at this stage. A new wonder kid is born #CallHimRio