A case of the DTs...

Tomorrow the Daily Telegraph promises a guide to photographing 'absolutely everything'. Now, I don't have an enormous amount of free time, 7 month old son and all that, so I won't get round to it myself but I would imagine that even the most dedicated of photographers would be hard pushed to take on this mammoth task. Taking photographs of absolutely everything? Cripes. If you are following the DT's guide, good luck! And apologies in advance if I don't have the time to view the results.

Talkin' bloggin'...

Perhaps I should go through every entry and delete the expletives - tomorrow morning (at around 11.10am) I appear on Radio Humberside to talk about blogging and, who knows, maybe some of the nice listeners will come along and pay the blog a visit.

The taking of photographs and videography by the public in Hull's wind tunnel-cum-shopping mall St Stephen's has been banned on the advice of Humberside Police, on the grounds that such happy snapping could all pose a terrorist threat. You'd think that terrorists might work in a slightly more sophisticated manner than whipping out their low-res Motorolas, maybe choosing instead to look at widely available plans and elevations such as these or the ridiculous amount of images that have already been taken before planning their bombing campaigns. Apparently, photography will be allowed if the photographer in question has 'legitimate reasons'. Ask yourself "why do you take photographs?" and I'll bet the answers you come up with, for the most part, sound a bit silly and not in the least 'legitimate'. Yes, St Stephen's is private property and they can do whatever they want, but life just gets dafter, eh?

Reading: Yukio Mishima - Spring Snow

Snaps...

The keeper of this hand encroached on my space on the train last night. Look at it - do I pay £16.90 for this? Anyway, the keeper of this hand did redeem himself by making me laugh. We were just coming up to Selby when he caught the attention of a very elderly man sat across the aisle from him by repeatedly saying the word "Snaps!" "Snaps! Snaps! Snaps!" it went. The elderly man understandably looked puzzled and feared for his life. Then came an attempt at clarification: "Take the snaps!" It eventualy transpired that the keeper of the hand wanted his photograph taken with a high falutin' and very fancy mobile telephone but had, unfortunately, selected a man for the job who had not crossed paths with technology since the introduction of cylindrical music boxes. "This is the snaps button, you press it, it takes a snaps. Take a snaps of me!" The elderly chap complied with the demand and, after a lot of fumbling about, showed the keeper of the hand his photographic effort. "No good! This snaps is no good! You have taken too much snaps of the table. Do it again! Another snaps!" Thankfully, the subsequent snaps ("Another snaps! Another!) finally did the job. Phew. I thought at one point it would all end in tears. If you believe in karma then this thrilling entertainment was possibly all due to the elderly man snatching a Manchester Evening News that I had my eye on when I boarded the train but, rather than reading it, tucking it into his bag, which he then clutched tightly to his chest until the snaps incident.