Every picture tells a story;
"Oh well of course she won't stay, not after that" my husband is looking at the striking photo of poor Nigella Lawson, ashen faced and inward looking, in last sunday's Sunday times. "Why not?" I ask him. "Is it because of what Mr Saachi did? Or because of the photographs?" He doesn't get this distinction. I tell him I think it's difficult to believe it was the first time, or even the second. It looked like a well oiled groove, in view of what he had to say about it, " grabbed her for emphasis" " just a discussion" , and that he made a statement to the police "to clear it up" stop it dragging on etc . And in her description of him as an "exploder" ( enough said).
No, the difference now is in the accidental snapshots, unstaged, inadvertant, and so bearing silent and independent witness. Every domestic abuse is alike in the fiction, the lie, told by the abuser, and accepted by the abused, as to what is happening. Being behind closed doors, there is no one to disturb the fiction that allows your life to go on. The photographer who snapped for 27 minutes was making a living but his snapshots made the lady herself as much as the rest of us audience to a shocking and inconvenient truth.
Record in Sound;
Up to last Monday everybody suspected that they knew what went on in Anglo Irish Bank in 2008, leading to the Bail Out, the Bank Guarantee. Everyone suspected that they knew, and now they know what they suspected. Take a bow the Irish Independent newspaper. On first hearing the Anglo executives Bowe and Fitzgerald on the Radio, my Husband thinks it is a parody, a Laurel and Hardy style slapstick. And all week long I can not help but wonder if the Anglo executives didn't know they were being recorded, and if they did, did they like forget? believe they had impunity?, were too stupid to hide their own duplicity? I'm with stupid, and this another fine mess they got us all into.
Beauty in the eye of the beholder;
The (formerly) beautiful girl has had her nose impaled with a (half moon) piece of metal, I cannot control a facial rictus of horror each time I look at her. She assures me it is just fine and hip. And cool. And I just, basically, don't get it. " But" I tell her "but... I do get and occasionally even had nose studs, eyebrow piercings, belly piercings, ear piercing, but this....it suggests the bovine, to be led by the nose..... and also from the right side it looks like a largish booger....or a pair of insect mandibles..." Luckily, at this stage, basically, she sees no value and sets no store in what I see, at all.
"Oh well of course she won't stay, not after that" my husband is looking at the striking photo of poor Nigella Lawson, ashen faced and inward looking, in last sunday's Sunday times. "Why not?" I ask him. "Is it because of what Mr Saachi did? Or because of the photographs?" He doesn't get this distinction. I tell him I think it's difficult to believe it was the first time, or even the second. It looked like a well oiled groove, in view of what he had to say about it, " grabbed her for emphasis" " just a discussion" , and that he made a statement to the police "to clear it up" stop it dragging on etc . And in her description of him as an "exploder" ( enough said).
No, the difference now is in the accidental snapshots, unstaged, inadvertant, and so bearing silent and independent witness. Every domestic abuse is alike in the fiction, the lie, told by the abuser, and accepted by the abused, as to what is happening. Being behind closed doors, there is no one to disturb the fiction that allows your life to go on. The photographer who snapped for 27 minutes was making a living but his snapshots made the lady herself as much as the rest of us audience to a shocking and inconvenient truth.
Record in Sound;
Up to last Monday everybody suspected that they knew what went on in Anglo Irish Bank in 2008, leading to the Bail Out, the Bank Guarantee. Everyone suspected that they knew, and now they know what they suspected. Take a bow the Irish Independent newspaper. On first hearing the Anglo executives Bowe and Fitzgerald on the Radio, my Husband thinks it is a parody, a Laurel and Hardy style slapstick. And all week long I can not help but wonder if the Anglo executives didn't know they were being recorded, and if they did, did they like forget? believe they had impunity?, were too stupid to hide their own duplicity? I'm with stupid, and this another fine mess they got us all into.
Beauty in the eye of the beholder;
The (formerly) beautiful girl has had her nose impaled with a (half moon) piece of metal, I cannot control a facial rictus of horror each time I look at her. She assures me it is just fine and hip. And cool. And I just, basically, don't get it. " But" I tell her "but... I do get and occasionally even had nose studs, eyebrow piercings, belly piercings, ear piercing, but this....it suggests the bovine, to be led by the nose..... and also from the right side it looks like a largish booger....or a pair of insect mandibles..." Luckily, at this stage, basically, she sees no value and sets no store in what I see, at all.
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