Ear hors d’oeuvres.

“Taxi, taxi, hotel, hotel, I got the whiskey baby, I got the cigarettes… ” Morphine, corrigible two-string slide bass, maculate sax, Mark Sandman’s voice like someone threw a lit match at a rag dipped in kerosene and honey, welcome back to my playlist. Twinemen just wasn’t the same. I have liked Elbow for some time, …

Deep breath.

I don’t do this very often. Reincarnation is a tricky business. Especially if, technically speaking, you’re still live. I’m dropping wordpress.com and starting over using my own domain. After mucking about with mamp and agitprop (thanks to this tutorial at bioneural.net), I’ve also succeeded in exporting my iBlog entries from 2004 onwards into the WordPress …

Je suis Nano.

Where the dickens am I? Ah. Judging by the strap with the plastic doodad, I am in someone’s carry-on luggage, and will soon be hurtling through the atmosphere at an altitude of 35,000 feet, at the mercy of prosaic flight attendants. It is quite hospitable of Cannes to provide me with the perfect vantage point …

Almost home.

Farewell, land of wheat products and cold food. I can’t believe how much I’ve missed food, my food, not these yes-beautiful-but-hollow sandwiches and salads and strips of pancetta on pasta. I want spicy peanuts, adobo and the rogan josh across the street from the office. I want sinigang and green papaya salad and the buta …