Today is the day that twitter got excited about 4’33″ and the campaign for John Cage to be Christmas number one. I didn’t. I think it’s patronising.
Last year’s success of Rage Against The Machine pipping whoever won X Factor to number one in the corporate sales chart was a fun, if childish, thing. It was a petulant two-fingers to a culture-sapping initiative of recycle and resell, and a man who is just a tiny bit better at exploiting consumers than most people. It irked some people who believe in the charts and the divine right of destiny an X Factor winner has, but they could still enjoy the song.
One thing that came up this week was “dead metaphors”. Frankie mentioned it in passing after a brief discussion of this nice video of letterpressing:
As marvellous as the video and the practice is, what cropped up was the amount of terms that have become part of daily language, but whose meaning is lost. We know what “out of sorts” means to us now. We no longer think that we have run out of characters for typesetting, just that we’re a bit under the weather. It’s a dead metaphor. re-rewind.
Hello. I need your help. Recently, I have been playing the wonderfully Victorian, macabre and tricky iPhone game Helsing’s Fire (iTunes link).
It is an excellent take on the German board game Waldschattenspiel (lit. “forest shadow play”), which uses tealights and triangular trees to defeat dwarves. Tom Armitage elicited many coos about it at Interesting North. It looks bloody marvellous, but apparently isn’t that great fun to play. in the shadows.