Sun!

In November!

[long baffled silence]




Oh no come with me to Helsinki
Where the streets are wide and so am I
Wide open for love
Any love from anyone

Well, not really, but consider watching this, though...
Italy vs Helsinki by a Swedish band Laakso

Typical Day of a Curator

Dear Blog,

Today I woke up at 6.55 am, went to work, wrote various e-mails to New York and Kopenhagen, piled some papers and stuff like I always do, looked out and thought that the work day must be over already, took my coat and noticed it was just 11 am.
Bloody November.
I wondered how are we supposed to know what time it is when it's equally dark outside days and nights. Obviously a clock would help, but I don't wear one, because I have a mobile. Well, I wasn't in a mood for seeing any mobiles today.

I went to the shop and bought a princess crown, came back to work and watched secrectly a piece of art, which I obviously shouldn't do at daytime, because I work in an art museum. I did some more paperwork and came back home when it was dark.
I thought I could possibly be more efficient and an overall better person if I'd sleep more. I also wondered that I probably wouldn't even try chasing a crazily meowing cat during nights if I'd sleep more, but obviosly I can't sleep because all that meowing. Perhaps I should get a meowlingual?



Cat: Meow!
Meowlingual: I want food!
T Fox: Would you be quiet, I want to sleep!
Cat: Meooow!
Meowlingual: I want foood!
T Fox: Shut up now!
Cat: Meeoow!
Meowlingual: I waaant food!

Perhaps not.

Sumerians didn't have nylon socks

I thought to write about my highly exciting life today.

Dear Blog,
Today I woke up when it was dark. I took lots of photocopies. I tried to choose right kind of paper for a book. I bought a new pair of gloves. I was back at home when it was dark. When the kids went to their beds I watched how the dog ate some tasty rabbit feces.

Well, probably not.
Even the news suddenly sounded too weird to be published in a serious and deeply thoughtful blog like this.
"Illegal alcohol underwater pipeline from Russia to Estonia shut down."
"Santas in Australia have been discouraged from saying "ho, ho, ho" because some feel it could scare children and offend women."*
"Used condoms are being recycled into hair bands in southern China."
"A naked man died after pulling a condom filled with laughing gas over his head."
"Man dies after getting stuck in girlfriend’s cat door."
"A house cat in southern England has a nightly routine of disappearing and awaiting a ride home at the same place 2 miles away every morning."

If I could understand some more Latin than vulpes vulpes, I could probably read the daily news in Latin, as many Finns do. Some of us even sing Elvis in Latin.
Apparently he can sing Blue Suede Shoes in Sumerian as well. "... it was difficult to find Sumerian equivalents for certain modern concepts and words. For example, the Sumerians of course didn't have nylon socks, so I had to improvise and made it "cotton boots," šuhub gu."

Was that deeply thoughtful enough?
Ok.
Then it's time to watch Indian Thriller.




* Of course everybody knows that real Santa doesn't say "ho,ho,ho". Santa says: "Onkos täällä kilttejä lapsia?"

What a Funwall World

[I took the awful video away]

A video called "Jokela high school massacre 11/7/2007" was posted on the YouTube website by an 18-year-old man, who waves at you on his training video above.

Whilst I was celebrating my Son's 7th birthday today, I read his thoughts: "Death and killing is not a tragedy... Not all human lives are important or worth saving."

It was a dark and stormy night

Few weeks ago, when it was a dark night, but without the northern November sea wind (like we had yesterday), I was walking outside with the dog. I passed familiar places and tried to think what to write about, but I felt bit down and forgotten, as I tend to do when autumn is nearly over and everything, even the nature, is desperately bare. I was thinking how lovely it was, just a month ago, to sit in shadow and enjoy cold Italian prosecco with the friends, playing the "which animal would you be" game.

Could that be a sensible topic, perhaps a new meme, I thought, but after a second thought I believed no-one would love to read this kind of dialogue:
Colleague 1: Let's play the "which animal would you be"-game.
T Fox: Ok. What animal would I be?
Collegues 1 & 2 & 3: A sebra.
T Fox: A sebra? What about if I'd be something not so scared and stripey. Some carnivore?
Collegues 1 & 2 & 3: A wolverine.
T Fox: Hmm...
Colleague 2: If you would be a car you'd be a really old Mercedes-Benz.
T Fox: Hey, that's not an animal!
Colleague 1: Would you be a cat or a dog?
T Fox: A cat.
Colleague 1: No, you would be a dog.
Colleagues 2 & 3: Definitely a dog.
T Fox: Ok, I admit. What kind of dog I'd be then? I'd like to be an Irish Setter.
Colleague 2: A pug.
Colleague 3: Are we ready to go now?

I was ready to go and plucked the dog back from the bush. Crappy idea, I thought and wondered how many ah-so-brilliant ideas I had had, but couldn't have written about them, because so much or nearly everything would have got lost in the translation.

Two about 12-year-old boys were standing on the top of the hill with their bikes.
We came closer.
Boy 1: "Noutaja" comes.
[Unauthorized translator: noutaja s 1 retriever kultainen noutaja golden retriever]
T Fox: [not aloud] Retriever? Don't they teach anything at school these days?
We come closer.
Boy 1: Didn't you hear? "Noutaja" comes.
T Fox: [not aloud] Yes, yes, I heard, are you stupid or something?
We come closer.
Boy 1: Now I'm starting to be scared. Do you want to have a taste of my knife?
T Fox: [not aloud] Shit!
[Unauthorized translator: noutaja s 2 Grim Reaper]

I think my dog looks too nice to be nearly a wolf. Should I get her a creepy outfit?

Jack Sparrow Dog Costume and many more here

Death of the Author and Other Thoughts of the Month

Today, whilst I was in Metro, reading Roland Barthes, it hit me. I had nearly forgotten the Fox. Well, not forgotten, but I had felt way too busy lately and everything had seemed so much more important than the blog. I wish I could have said I really had been that busy, but obviously I couldn't. You, who are on Facebook, you know that I could have written much and much and even some more and spent far less time on writing something more important than my status updates:

X is wondering if it is November making her feel like an ugli fruit. 8:30pm

X is a podgy bored pony-tailed pomelo. 4:14pm
X is a sodden ponderous toothless tooth fairy. 3:45pm

X is completely at sea. A frozen one. 9:38am

X is having gentle useless rants inside her head. 12:38am
X is having broken teeth and snow kind of a weekend. 8:34pm
X is suddenly aware it's November already. 7:07pm
X is writing again. 4:28pm
X is going to listen a lecture by Tate Modern's Exhibitions Registrar now. 1:15pm
X is trying to write. 9:53am
X is finally realising that she is a bookshopaholic. 12:20am
X is a Monopoly-loser. 9:36pm
X is boringly writing about some art stuff. 2:43pm
X is a worker. 11:39am

X is way too water-y. 12:26am

X is feeling Ikea-dizzy. 9:53pm

X is in a Tuesday tune. 1:06am
X is in a monday mode. 10:46am
X is at sleep. 1:19am

X is offline. 3:44pm

X is wearing a red nose. 2:36pm

X is going to visit the bookfair today. Yay! 10:52am

X is torpidly tired, but at work. 9:48am

X is ready for the spectacle. 6:47pm

X is mycket bättre after the buffé, wine and chocolate. 5:35pm

X is bad-tempered, not festive. 4:35pm

X is going to go to bed with a real book. 12:02am

X is drinking tea and building up a virtual bookshelf for the virtual self. 9:42pm

X is not working. 6:49pm

X is working working working not wanting but working. 3:23pm

X is feeling sick. 3:18pm

X is óleo, platos, bondo sobre lona impermeable verde. 3:08pm

X is stressed out. 1:57pm

X is working, working and working. 11:22am

X is sleepy. 11:54pm

X is almost back from the completely knackered state of mind. 8:58pm

X is completely knackered. 9:32pm

X is a happy owner of new shoes and feels better already. 8:17pm

X is exhausted, well beaten, run-down, washed-out and nearly dead. 4:05pm

X is argh. 12:37pm

X is apparently a some kind of a lawyer with a cleaner's salary. 12:07pm

X is beginning a new full week. 8:39am

X is asleep. 12:19am

X is unable to write except about the penguin pee and stuff like that. 11:51pm

X is done. Hooray. Hip hip hip hoo-ra...zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. 8:02pm

X is working. Boring. 3:14pm

X is back from Ratatouille. 6:25pm

X is still thinking that the perry creme brûlée & cinnamon-orange sorbet was rather nice. 10:55am

X is apparently very invitation friendly this morning. 10:21am

X is at home again. 1:59am

X is trying to find her clothes. 5:38pm

X is at work and waiting for the evening and dinner. 9:23am

X is frozen, but fully amused. 12:20am

X is having presents and bubbly drinks before going to the amusement park. 4:01pm

X is frustrated. 8:31am

X is really happy for Y :). 11:50pm

X is not reading a text "Some Reflections on an Agonistic Approach to the Public.". 6:41pm

X is reading a text "Some Reflections on an Agonistic Approach to the Public". 9:15am

X is a worn-out worker. 8:43am

X is apparently a cheerful chipmunk. 11:54pm
X is writing nonsense. 11:48pm

X is definitely not up to something. 11:12pm

X is a cuddlemaster. 1:06pm

X is probably just way too optimistic. 12:20am

X is not sure actually. 12:17am

X is just happy. 12:13am

X is asked to play with her notepad instead of facebook. Hmph. 10:28pm

X is aware that her home is filled with beer, naked women and potatoes. 7:29pm

X is feeling dizzy. 1:30pm

X is looking after a strange fluffy toy. 12:36am

X is going to drink all the wine now, because she just got frozen outside. 8:48pm

X is having an Eastern European mole as a weekend guest and wonders if they drink red wine. 7:44pm
X is happy like a small horsey again. 12:03am

X is so exhausted, but happy. 4:33pm

X is going to work hard today. Seriously. 8:39am

X is going to light up the room. Well, the bedroom anyway. 12:06am

X is slush and whoosh. 9:23pm

X is a having a big mouth and no brain. 4:08pm

X is an ice-cream eating ice-cube. 11:04pm

X is an ice-cube. Also terribly lazy. 10:00pm

X is not going to change any bloody smitten tires with mittens anyway. 9:07pm

X is stupid smytten. 9:05pm

X is suddenly thinking about winter tyres and smittens. Depressing. 9:03pm

X is . 9:01pm

X is as much fun as a wall. 12:13am

Talking about walls:



origin here