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Spacer87. Feat. Shannon Hurley via ccMixter.
Spacer86. Vocals from Brad Sucks via ccMixter.
I had a few minutes spare. I used a Canon A590 IS and a Nikon D90, and took pictures of a small shrub.
I wanted to see how the pictures look in fully automatic mode, and then how the pictures look in each cameras Program mode. Program mode is often quite like Auto mode, with the exception that the camera operator can change the Exposure Compensation. Exposure Compensation is simple – it tells the camera to expose the image more or less.
In my experience the auto modes of many cameras over-expose the image. Leading to washed out colours and/or the brightest parts of the image becoming solid white.
All images featured in the post are exactly as from the camera, saved via Photoshop to save some bandwidth. Click on a image to see it full size.
Here’s the Auto Mode images from both cameras. They have EXIF data, which you can use to view the exact settings.
Canon A590 IS:
Nikon D90:
I think both images are a little washed-out, and far from optimal.
Here are the images taken with Program mode.
Canon A590 IS (P Mode, -1 exposure compensation):
Nikon D90 (P Mode, -2/3 exposure compensation):
The Canon shot is a bit too dark. That was my fault. -1 exposure compensation was a bit too much. I also think the camera chose the wrong aperture.
The next shot was taken with the Canon A590 IS in Aperture Priority Mode (-2/3 exposure compensation):
Conclusions:
There are several hundred dollars or pounds difference in the price of the Canon A590 IS and the Nikon D90.
In the above circumstances, taking five minutes to photograph a shrub, Auto Mode, for both cameras, produces a mediocre shot.
All beginners should learn how to use P-Mode with exposure compensation. Digital compact or DSLR. They will produce some great shots with minimum effort.
(high pitched non-sequiturs) Spacer 43,
This doesn’t work musically >– spacer35. <– could delete, but fuck it.
spacer26 (discordant noise in stereo*).
* potentially wanky.
Yes. (Clickable)
No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. Fuck off. No. Oh FFS.
Remakes are fucked. Thing is, the only successful remakes are where they change it nearly beyond recognition (the Battlestar Galactica method), or, keep it reasonably close, capturing the essential qualities of the original despite modernisation (The Star Trek Next TNG method). If it’s anywhere in between the two you end up with Carry on Columbus, Star Trek Voyager, and virtually every other remake or spin-off, including some I probably haven’t watched.
Watch for yourself on iPlayer (click No above). If you’re abroad, you’re not missing much. Things to note: colour saturation, audio gain on the laughter track, exaggerated facial expressions, minimal distance between gags and punchlines, Reggie’s pseudo existential angst, the difficulty in suspending belief, on top of a grinding feeling that you’re watching the original as interpreted by idiots.
They’ve used some kind of phaser in the new version of the old theme tune. That’s almost a metaphor for the show.
Tokyo Police Club and Acen and Pontiak and Modest Mouse.


The banks that are going to be bailed out by the US taxpayer are going to profit, possibly substantially, from the big bail-out. Not US taxpayers. They get all of the risk though. Specifically from the ludicrously nebulous ‘reverse auction’ that talks in terms of ‘hold to maturity prices’. This is simultaneously unbelievably funny and scary all at the same time. I had a chance to watch most of the US senate hearing today and as far as I can tell it’s more of the same thinking that got us all in this mess in the first place. From and by the same people that got us in this mess.
No doubt people will swallow this shit and the ‘hold to maturity prices’ issue will not be addressed by any of the presidential candidates. Stunningly. mindblowingly, unbelievable.
Edit @ 2:32
The more I think about it this may actually be a good plan, with the proviso that the estimated matured prices are a fair representation. E.g. the prices are what you’d expect for matured dodgy debt and not what you’d expect from vanilla debt. That could end up costing less than the alternatives. It was a shame it was so vague.
I for one hope that whatever happens it happens quickly and puts some kind of end to the present turmoil.
To industrialisation. Highlights. Massively abridged. Not necessarily accurate. Not checked (it’s a throw-away spacer FFS). Domesticated animals. Baa. 9000BCish. Crops. 8500BCish. Wheels! 3500BCish. Written word. 3000BCish. First truly international wars.1600BCish until last Thursday. Abraham. 1820BCish. Lao-Tzu. 604bc. Confucius. 551BCish. Buddha’s enlightenment. 530BCish. Democracy ancient style, Athens 507BCish. Wars feat. Philip of Macedonia, Alexander the Great etc. 300sBCish. China united. 221BCish. Han Dynasty. 202BCish. Spartacus! 30BCish. Jesus knackered. 30ADish. St Paul gets Hellenic. 46ADish till he was knackered. Pope Clement I 92BCish. Paper. 105ADish – China. End of the Han Dynasty. 220ADish. Christianity in Rome. 324ADish. Visigoths! Rome! Action! 410ADish. Bloody immigrant Angles, Saxons, and Jutes invade England (actually the Saxons were invited). 425ADish. Rome sacked by Vandals (who weren’t actually as nutty as history makes out – see Carthage) 455ADish. Mathematics in a semi-modern manner India. 520ADish. Mohammed born 570ADish. Mohammed dies 630ADish in Medina. Muslim armies conquer large chunks of the Middle and Near East 630->732ADish. Shia/Sunni split 661ADish. Charlemagne assumes the role of the Holy Roman Emperor 800ad. First printed book. 853ADish China. Viking bloody immigrants* colonise northern France, hence Normandy. 912ADish. Eastern Orthodox church splits from the Roman church. 1054ADish. Battle of Hastings. 1066ADish. Pope Urban II gets sand in his vagina. First Christian crusades start 1095ADish. Genghis Khan fucks China. 1215ADish. Start of the Renaissance 1300ADish then, famine in Europe, 1315ADis, Black Death til 1353ADish, staggering economic,and social effect across Europe and Asia, millions die. Gutenberg press. 1439ADish. Constantinople becomes Ottoman. 1453ADish. Columbus hits the Caribbean. 1492ADish. Major turmoil/landgrabs in Africa 1500ADish onward. Martin Luther gets uppity. 1517ADish. Spanish borrow Mexico from the Aztecs. 1519ADish. Mughals India, wonderful food. 1526ADish. Bloody French colonise Quebec*. 1606ADish. God bothering pilgrims arrive in the New World, Native American’s rejoice. 1620ADish. English Civil War 1642ADish. King Charles’ head off. 1649ADish. Ottomans repelled by the Viennese, who isn’t? * 1663ADish. American independence. 1776ADish – gone on about it ever since. French revolution. 1789ADish. British in India for the tea. Conquer Cylon. 1796ADish. Napoleon takes the reigns of France. 1799ADish. Argentinian independence (other South American countries later from Portugal and Spain). 1808ADish. Napoleon, fucked, in a manner. 1815ADish. Sneaky East India company become sort-of rulers of India 1818ADish. Industrial revolution. 179_ to 18__ADish.
* This is not intended to be taken seriously. If you do, go fuck yourself.
Time Gentlemen Please is a sitcom that is coarse, has a laugh track, was broadcast on a satellite channel, and was critically underrated because of snobbishness. It’s actually very good. It’s primarily written by Al Murray, and Richard Herring. The cast are good – Phil Daniels stands out, playing the flatulent pervert Terry Brook. Many Terry Brook lines are cheesy but he says them so grubbily they’re funny (something Richard Herring also does well in other programmes/stand-up). The programmes recurring characters are all memorable and developed throughout the series, and there’s a lot of back-references. Watch episode two here. If Guv’nor were on the Internet he would appear on spEak You’re Branes as a result of comments on BBC Have Your Say. DVDs are available.
I think The Brittas Empire is in the top ten sitcoms of all time. If that makes me a bad person so be it. Watch the first episode here (if you watch it full screen the ads are less obvious). Keep watching; it takes a while to tune into the monster that is Gordon Brittas. Although you’ve probably met at least one. They hold minor positions of power everywhere. It’s a semi-plausible conspiracy theory.
And episode two, watch here.
The Criminal Minds and Minus The Bear and Scissors For Lefty and Combichrist.
First good day with my back in a month. Long walk. Tired. Blogging is not a priority, sleep is. BRB.
Compare the following programme segments:
Compare and provide commentary. Your answer should be no longer than 2000 words.
[20] points.
Optional:
[10] points. Publish the finished answer as a ‘blog’ entry. The examining board can’t be arsed.
I pulled up to the house About seven or eight I eat dinner. At about 9pm, suitably fed, I get a brief attack of tiredness brought on by digestion. That annoys me. Because if I have a brief nap I won’t sleep until tomorrow. Either – by way of thinking I won’t sleep and therefore don’t, or a nap refreshes me enough that I don’t need a night’s sleep. I haven’t worked out which. So, like, blogging is a fair dinkum way of stopping myself from napping. The preceding 90 words are meaningless other than their dictionary definitions, the history of the alphabet, punctuation, non-random appliction, and zero proper nouns. Take that world.
I keep wanting to write about things that don’t matter. But through indignation at the stupidity of other people I keep writing about serious stuff that affects people. Blogging isn’t about writing about serious stuff that affects people. So I’m going to intersperse this post with anecdotes. I’ll let the wider media do their job, because, after all, entirely seriously, without any sense of irony (admitting irony to an audience would mean it isn’t), they’ve been doing somewhat better than apes such a good job.
I jotted this down yesterday night, it is 100% true:
Earlier today I handled a fuck-load of chilli peppers and washed my hands thoroughly afterwards. Obviously not thoroughly enough because a little while later, in the middle of a public place, I rubbed my eyes and cried. It was pure liquid fire. Thus, through streams of tears, I made my way to a bench and sat there, with my eyes closed and tears streaming down my cheeks. Like I was having a public breakdown. And, in a way, this is a sign of a healthy society; a couple asked me if I was OK, and a little crowd formed. Which meant having to explain that I’d gotten chilli juice on my hands and had rubbed my eyes. And that I’d washed my hands. The very worst thing was that they had looks on their faces that suggested they didn’t believe me. It’s not like you can tell some stranger to lick your finger or rub their eyes.
Boris has scrapped the oil deal with Venezuela, here’s the PA wire:
Mayor ends oil deal with Venezuela
Tory London Mayor Boris Johnson has axed a controversial tie-up with Venezuela, spelling the end to half price bus and tram travel for some of the capital’s least well off.
Predecessor Ken Livingstone signed a deal with the south American nation’s state-owned oil company last year to cut 20% of the fuel bill for buses in return for transport advice. The savings were used to offer discount fares to around 250,000 people on income support.
At the launch of his successful campaign to oust the two-term Labour Mayor, Mr Johnson dubbed the deal with Venezuela’s president Hugo Chavez as “completely Caracas”. And in a statement he confirmed that it would not be renewed when it concluded in August and said work had already begun to shut down a £67,000 a year office operation in Caracas.
The big question, that, thus far nobody has asked is that what with the fucktarded bubble political opportunism/don’t blame the rush for commodities oil market, oil may be about to substantially increase in cost. Which, and I know this is a great intellectual stretch for some, may quickly mean that the paltry £67,000 saving may be wiped out entirely. Especially with potentially (FFS the number of actual claimants is likely lower than those who could claim) 250,000 people getting half price tickets. Which are going to be continued for six months. They should get half-price tickets. For starters low wages have been unofficially subsidised through things like travel discounts. But it’s going to cost more as fuel increases for reasons of greed.
But with the great economist, Boris Johnson, we’ve pulled the plug on something that has increased in value significantly since all of the mental baseless politically driven speculation concerns about oil supply. I know Venezuela isn’t really in a position to offer other countries oil discounts given its internal poverty, and I know Chavez isn’t some kind of saint, but my attitude is that if people want to offer stupid discounts for political reasons then it’s their problem and we should take it. We could always fuck him over down the line. A 20% discount on fuel that is potentially going to go through the roof is not something to play politics with.
A few weeks back a pub landlord told me off for using their toilets when I wasn’t a customer. So I told them to fuck off and walked out. I’m probably barred. It was a shit pub with dirty toilets anyway.
So, I suppose my question is: Is a £67,000 saving, and smugness that we’re not dealing with Chavez, really worth ditching a 20% discount in a time like this, what with the international situation? Does is make financial sense or are we losing significantly more than £67,000 per annum with the loss of the discount? Frankly, I don’t give a flying fuck, but it seems like the pertinent question. Sounds to me like someone is pointing a gun at their foot and pulling the trigger.
1 medium chicken, gutted and cleaned out
3 teaspoons of jerk marinade (Grace Jerk marinade suits this one because it’s got a round flavour and isn’t too hot by itself, but given jerk is essentially about a kick in the tastebuds any jerk will do)
3 teaspoons of extra hot chilli powder (not the stuff for chilli con carne etc. but ground chilli – I use Rajah brand, because it’s the hotest chilli powder I’ve tasted)
2 small limes preferably unwaxed (smaller generally means more acidic)
A teaspoon of runny honey (if you get ‘forest’ honey use that because it’s better in this recipe, that said, in a blind taste test of the end result of this recipe I highly doubt I’d notice the difference)
2 scotch bonnet peppers
A teaspoon of coarsely ground black pepper
(optional) Papain
Flatten the chicken by cutting through its spine and cracking it apart. Gash it all over, fairly deeply but not so deeply it falls apart.
Cut the limes in half. Place the chicken in a bowl and cover it with squeezed lime juice. Keep the limes.
Wash the scotch bonnet peppers and remove the stems. Scrape a lime until you have roughly half a teaspoon of green peel.
Put the honey, lime peel, scotch bonnet peppers, black pepper, chilli powder, and jerk paste in a blender and blend until smooth.
Thoroughly cover the chicken with the paste and wrap the chicken tightly in cling film. Put it in a fridge for up to 48 hours.
After it’s marinated (or marinaded depending on your disposition) cook whichever way suits you best. If the chicken is tough as fuck, or a cock, consider adding papain to the paste for an enzyme based solution. Don’t ruin it though.
If I here another news reporter saying the UFO files released by the MOD (available in PDF here) were in any way secret I will, compounded by a seriously bad back, throw something hard at my television screen. Shame on these guys. Firstly, anyone who even vaguely knows their shit, will tell you that the documents are largely unclassified (the lowest possible security concern) . Labels like secret and restricted have very specific meanings within government. And those UFO files are about as unexciting as it gets in terms of classifications. All the ’secret’ shit is bollocks. If they were some variety of eyes-only, caveatted up to the eyeballs, with crypto codewords, then it would probably be half as interesting as the press is implying about today’s release of UFO documents. People are strictly vetted to make sure they are boring enough to view such documents. The stuff released today is vanilla drudgery.
A lot of intelligence work is carried out by unsung heroes who quietly collate, analyse and disseminate, working in organisations such as the MOD’s Defence Intelligence Staff. During much of the last century the UK’s airspace was routinely intruded upon by Russian aircraft (no doubt we did the same to Russia). So it made a great deal of sense to log UFO reports and contextualise them in order to ascertain if the objects sighted were of defence significance. No matter how barmy. Or not entirely barmy: Many people spotting stealth planes, prior to them being made public (which sometimes takes years, and the prototypes may never be declassified), would, given the cultural collateral of ‘unidentified’ flying objects, view them as little green (or grey) men operating some kind of intergalactic free prostate checking clinic. Likewise a Harrier Jump Jet showing off, at night, viewed from 5km away. Or a missile test. Or atmospheric research that also provides handy surveillance platforms. Taxes at work.
So having a civil servant take reports between more important tasks makes sense. If a pattern emerges of some potentially unknown novel foreign aircraft regularly violating national airspace it is a major concern. The files were not secret, it’s more likely the reason some of the documents weren’t released sooner was a combination of laziness and stinginess. There are interesting bits buried in there, but if I can spot them, despite having the invisible Jolly Green Giant knee me in the back, I’ll be fucked if I’ll point them out. Do not ask me to point them out. I won’t point them out to anyone on principle.
FYI I think alien life exists and possibly super advanced aliens also (I was going to say super intelligent but then it dawned on me that intelligence is a very human concept). It’s just that the distances involved are huge and beings clever enough to travel faster than light (if it’s even possible), or some kind of time-travel (if it’s even possible), will likely have cleverer ways of studying intergalactic flora and fauna. In the event of time travel the computing possibilities are endless.
I like this sketch by Russell Brand and Matt Morgan. It’s been on YouTube for ages, but I haven’t linked to it because part of it annoys the fuck out of me. I like the randomness of the sketch and the spontaneity of it. Plus Gillian McKeith is seriously into shit. I am going to niggle. Watch it yourself here.
Three bits get on my tits: One – the lady looks in his direction, as he eats the shit, presumably her shit, but doesn’t react. (This is a little out of order given the probable budget) Two – the 29 O’Clock bit at the end. It’s just cheesy. If it was there to make sure people knew it was a joke, rather than a real MTV show, it’s a bit extraneous. Three – the direction was mental and the location sucked. On a bigger budget it would have been better, because the context of the sketch worked heavily against it, the room was out of place with the target of parody. Most life-style programmes have suburban chic. A suburban home setting would have done the trick.
I find Mr Natterjack’s Back much funnier because it’s much tighter (direction, editing), the setting is appropriate, and the sound track works well. It’s shock humour and has the feel of a short-art house film. I also liked the Daniel and Len sketches – they were totally inappropriate and out of context in the programmes they appeared in (which adds to why I find it funny, some of the people who tuned in may of been shocked) – but they were dark, man. They also could have done with been longer so the characters could have been expanded upon.
The best UK (sort-of) sketch show in the last few years is Snuff Box (watch a whole episode here). The locations are perfect, the soundtrack is perfect, and there are no more series. Presumably to make way for Two Pints of Lager and a Packet of Crisps. The Snuff Box DVD, soon to be released, will no doubt be worth buying.
I was bored last night so I was tinkering with Python. I’m not a programmer. I tinker. First thing I do with a programming language is write Fibonacci sequence functions (it’s a good way of getting a sense of things):
def fib4(current=1,last=0,inclusive='y',count=10):
if inclusive==('y' or 'Y'):
ser=[last,current]
else:
ser=[]
while count>0:
ser.append(current+last)
current=last+current
last=current-last
count=count-1
return(ser)
print fib4(1,0,'y',100)
That was the fourth one, and it’s probably really inefficient, because I’m an amateur. I made a variety.
Initially I forgot the count decrement (count=count-1) which meant the while loop never exited. Which meant the (ser) array was having hundreds of Fibonacci numbers appended per second. It was eating all of my system memory. I didn’t know that because I’d left to go to the toilet. I’m sure uncontrolled allocation of memory like that would slow any operating system. Memory is finite.
But after 2 minutes of the fibonnaci function running it took me 10 minutes to close Python down. Another five minutes for Vista (not SP1) to become usable again. I cannot remember Linux, Windows XP, or OS-X being that susceptable to an idiot’s program and have that glacial degree of slow down. It was like a fork bomb.
With Linux I usually alt-F1′d to an empty terminal, logged in, did a ‘ps aux | grep programname’ then ‘kill -9 process_id’. And Windows XP seemed to be more responsive to the ‘ctrl-alt-delete’ system call. With OS-X I usually have a terminal open and kill the process from there.
* Briefly.
Arcade Fire and Bluejuice and Automation and Future of the Left.
I’ve gotten into quite a few arguments about Scientology. Because, with a few caveats, I think adults should be able to spend their money on whatever they like and I think Scientology is a religion. As I outlined here. But now Scientology (or people acting in their name) have plumbed new depths of stupidity.
Do you remember the video of Tom Cruise (since hosted by Gawker here) that was removed from YouTube? The one that prompted global protests against Scientology?
A key point to remember here, the salient point, is that the removal of a newsworthy video sparked protest.
Well. The same thing has just happened to Mark Bunker of XenuTV fame (the guy that released the Jason Beghe video):
I didn’t photograph the last anonymous protests in London because I had bad guts and third demonstrations are less interesting than first and second demonstrations. People are usually bored by the third demonstration (see second London demonstration pics by me here).
Removing Mark Bunker’s videos is an almost guaranteed way to reinvigorate the protests and bring in even more protestors.
Heck, even I feel like protesting (rather than just taking pictures) and I don’t even feel that strongly about Scientology. As for YouTube: This is yet another example of how they’ll cave in at the first opportunity rather than give their users the respect they deserve.
Web 2.0 is about making money from the talent of your users and showing them little or no respect over profits.
If this sort of thing is tolerated it could happen to you next. Send Mark Bunker’s video, as linked above, to people. They should know.
I think there should be a general rule of blogging that when you’re depressed you shouldn’t blog. Almost universally it comes across as self-indulgent shit. Earlier today I posted a post that in retrospect was so mental it was potentially funny. In a laughing at a mental tramp bothering people outside of Boots kind of way. To give you a vague idea of what the post was like, at the end I compared the Conservative party and New Labour to a saggy pox afflicted arse. I had a mental picture of diseased cheeks belonging to the same arse. Thing is: I hate people that try to convince people of stuff. It’s not that I object to people expressing their opinions it’s just I think it’s possible that vehemence is a mask for ill-thought out ideas. With stuff I’m sure about if people agree that’s fine and if they don’t they don’t. I’m still right. If I’m being vehement it is a sign of not being sure I’m right. So the long-winded psychiatrists wet dream of a post had to go.
I visited someone in hospital a couple of days ago, on a post-operative ward filled with people plumbed with tubes pumping poo and wee, and I think I’ve picked up the famous shitting lurgies. Whereby you don’t feel all that unwell but have got a bit of a sore throat and occasionally have cramps that precipitate running. So I will not be in London tomorrow. I intend to walk somewhere where there are nearby toilets or wooded cover. I’ll keep a bog-roll in my camera bag. The idea of shitting myself in central London terrifies me.
This is a shit post. Sometimes I think there’s a collusion between all of the atoms in the universe to smite me, like Job (the proto-Jesus), in the good book. Fnord.
Thao with the Get Down Stay Down and Ithaka and Screaming Trees and Hoggboy.
This is one is better than my feeble, knocked together in five minutes, attempt.
If someone has emailed me in the last 24hrs I may have accidently deleted your message. Please re-send. It was in my spam bucket and I deleted before reading the subject/from bits. Then looked at the picture in my head, realised that the fifth message down wasn’t spam, and that now I can’t recover it. I am stupid.
Thought of the day
Don’t delete your spam before checking whether it was legit or not.
See also: My views on Scientology.
And more pictures here: http://picasaweb.google.co.uk/Jack.Toerson
Intentionally left blank (apart from this bit).
Nothing goes here (except these words, obviously). (and a full stop and another bracketed statement to deal with that fullstop. And another one, but not at the end of this sentence) who needs full stops or question marks
Just got home. First chance near keyboard all day etc.. Insert picture here.
Amazing panorama of Bucharest (insert here)
I’ve got a Hoya Pro-1D, moderately expensive, circular polarizing filter for my 50mm prime lens. I left it on a shelf when my brother-in-law visited with one of the toddling nephews and, kids being kids, he got mucky fingers all over it. That’s life, kids are curious and don’t wipe their fingers. Getting the filter back to a state where I’m confident using it has been a nightmare. I’ve tried soaking it in lens cleaning fluid, special disposable lens cleaning cloths, lens paper, a Nikon lens cleaning pen, and smears kept returning. It was bizarre. I was finally getting to the point where I was going to write-off the filter, but in despiration I searched the web and read Ken Rockwell’s bit about microfibre cloths. I bought a microfibre cloth at Woolworth’s for about three quid and it worked better than all of the things specifically designed to clean lenses and filters.
I don’t know if it’s a Hoya thing, but my Nikon lens filters seem to clean far more easily, furthermore they don’t seem to smear as easily. Although I can’t generalise to all Hoya filters because I only own two Hoya filters. I wonder if there was grease in the filter ring, and what was happening is that a minuscule amount was deposited on the lens as I cleaned it. Creating more smearing. Or that the coating is particularly prone to picking up grease and dirt. Anyway, cheap microfibre cloths are damn good things indeed. Thank-you Ken Rockwell.
I went to this, primarily to take photos, because I had a feeling it may be historic or some such, here’s the Flickr gallery of some of the pictures I took:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/23636618@N05/sets/72157603884045128/
It was entirely peaceful. In real life Anonymous are all good eggs and I think they more than achieved their aims in London.
There were a couple of celebs there too, a couple of whom are tucked away in the photos I took. So download the large versions if you want to play where’s wally.
Animal Collective and EON.





















































































































































































































































































