When I was aged about nine, I was given for Christmas an anthology of tales by Hans Christian Anderson. The translation from Anderson's native Danish to English was impeccably done, and I found the tales enthralling. As a side note, I did try to read The Three Musketeers some time ago, and whoever translated Dumas's tale to English should think about his or her choices. Anyway, thanks to Disney, most of us familiar with The Little Mermaid, notwithstanding the studio's softening of the more grisly and gruesome aspects of the story. But this anthology had lots and lots of stories, and one of them was about a swineherd who was in fact a prince in disguise, and whilst in disguise he 'sold' a princess a magic kettle. The properties of the kettle included a function wherein if someone held his or her finger in the steam of the kettle, he or she would be able to smell what was being cooked in the households of the town. The price for this marvel of appliances (are you reading this, Breville; might be worth thinking about) was ten kisses from the princess. She was worried that someone would see, and had her ladies-in-waiting spread their dresses out and block them from view, as she danced the tongue tango with the swineherd (whom as we know, was a prince). The disguised prince got his kisses, and she got her magic kettle. She took it home and tried it out. The ladies-in-waiting thought it was amazing.
'We know who has soup, and who has pancakes for dinner today, who has cutlets, and who has eggs. How interesting!' they all cried.
Anyway, I read this, and thought: This is not interesting. Why on earth would you want to know what someone's having for dinner? (Fast forward to nowadays when thanks to social media, we get to learn what people are having for dinner whether we want to know or not!).
But I guess it just shows it's not a new idea, people in authority (and the monarchy depicted in this story do have gubernatorial authority) wanting to know what people are doing in their homes. I've read the Department of Home Affairs has suggested facial recognition technology to confirm people accessing online porn are of legal age to do so. Never mind having people just enable parental controls and filters on their computers to keep the kidlets away from questionable material, the government, in the manner of the princess with her kettle, want to know who's looking at what. I reckon the grotty grubs just want to look at everybody's 'orgasm face', and check out the sites they're viewing. Get out of our bedrooms, and our studies, or whatever room in which the computer is kept.
On Saturday night, I drove to a nearby town and watched a Bruce Springsteen tribute show. I really enjoyed it. I didn't spend too much time filming on my camera, because I have a newish camera and am not used to the filming function. I did capture some wobbly, wonky footage of 'Bruce' performing Hungry Heart, but after that, I put my phone away and just enjoyed the show. Most of the patrons were older than I am, but young at heart, as evidenced by the dancing. Well, I think they were dancing. There was one woman reliving her young sharpie days, and doing some blend of the Sharpie Dance and Interpretive Dance. It was a sight to behold. Some drunk guy tried to get me up to dance. I actually like to dance, but I declined that night because: (1) I don't like dancing with drunk men; (2) I didn't want to leave my handbag unattended; (3) my sexy new shoes were pinching my toes; and (4) I didn't want to put myself at risk of being stuck by the elbow or foot of the ageing sharpie. When 'Bruce' started on Dancing in the Dark, I actually did toy with the idea of dancing near the stage; I thought he might invite a woman up to the stage to dance a la the young Courtney Cox in the original video; and I so wanted to be that girl. But my misgivings overwhelmed me, and I remained seated. It was just as well, because this 'Bruce' didn't invite a female audience member onto the stage to dance. It might have been the insidious phenomenon known as Insurance - public liability and litigation are an evil mix at times when it comes to fun. However, I think he was also worried about his own health: extending an inviting hand would have no doubt led to the ageing sharpie knocking all competitors out of the way as she stumble-staggered to the stage, and 'Bruce' probably didn't want to be buffeted and pummelled by flailing body parts, either. To borrow from his grand finale - Born to Run, natch!: it's a death trap.
Anyway, that's it for now. Thanks for reading, and check out the first chapters of my novels (links on the homepage of this blog).
Will you walk with me out on the wire
'Cos baby, I'm just a scared and lonely rider...
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