Hiro, heroes and heroines

This week's croplet of goodies:

Holy Moly Ts now include some for fans of the show "Heroes". Hooray for Hiro.

The Guardian's Poetry Workshop - good opportunity to practice your poetry and get feedback

Au Contraire - interview with my heroine Vivienne Westwood:

Her manifesto, for all the hyperbole, is really just a call for people to watch less television, read more books and buy fewer luxury items. It's not loopy at all. "Of course, they will say, 'What is she doing, she's selling a designer collection, how can she be against consumption?' Well, you have to consume things, of course, you have to live, you have to eat. And I'm not saying don't go to the discotheque, they can do that. I'm just saying go less, do other things." She sighs. "It's so much to tackle."

CUSTOMER SERVICE AWARD - Givenchy.
I emailled them about the possible reintroduction of L'Interdit and this was what I got (the next day natch):

From: Audrey L Of Givenchy CONSUMERSERVICE
Sent: Wednesday, 1 August 2007 9:52 pm

Subject: L'Interdit

Dear Ms DMR,

I follow up to your email dated August 01 where in you informed us about your disappointment to not find anymore L'Interdit.

First of all we would like to thank you for your fidelity to Parfums Givenchy for many years.

L'Interdit belongs to Givenchy's mythical fragrances. For this reason, Parfums Givenchy decided to bring out this mythical fragrance in a new packaging as from November 2007. Thus you will have the possibility to find the beloved perfume of the shelves of your usual stores at the end of this year.

Unfortunately, there is no more L'Interdit left in our stock, so I cannot send you a bottle to help you to wait for its return. But, I invite you to go to your usual store to discover all our new perfumes and hope that you will find a fragrance that will help you to wait for L'Interdit. Maybe you will appreciate another scent from our Range. You can maybe discover or rediscover what we called the "Classics" as Amarige or Ysatis. Or perhaps our new perfume for women Amarige Mariage will satisfy you with its warm scent!

We stay at your disposal if you need further information: feel free to contact us at this email address (consumerservice@parfumsgivenchy.fr)

We thank you once again for your confidence in Parfums Givenchy and to share with us those emotions.

Assuring you always of our best attention

Yours Faithfully,

Audrey

Sod you Mr Al Stewart and your paltry Year of the Cat, next year might be Year of the SPUD

Superheroes need rescuing from sexism says Ned Beauman on The Guardian blogs.

Sideways rain

Walked my pedo to work even though pissling down, woolly hat etc. The poor little thing has been in the wars. It has been skittering all over the floor at the gym since it is only hanging by a belt clip. Worse, it fell in the oven when I was leaning over to pull out oven tray. A little melty, but my reflexes were quick so it lives to fight another day.

Was reminded of a beautiful song the other day "Song to the Siren" - This Mortal Coil. Liz Fraser from Cocteau Twins sings it.

Playing haiku with Sar. They are surprisingly hard to write.
Mine is:
No more to believe
I was nothing but a thing
No trust so no love

Loving The Bomb: A Life. It is all there - splitting the atom, Manhattan Project, scientists irradiating themselves, Hiroshima and Nagasaki, Bikini Atoll, Marshall Islands, setting off bombs and frying poor Japanese fishermen who happened to be in wrong place at wrong time. One soldier told how they were near the bomb blast and could see the bones of their hand a la an x ray from the flash. Another story told how some cows had the hair scorched off their back and when it grew back it was colourless.

On that salutary note ...

why i love poetry

Stevie Smith

Not Waving but Drowning

Nobody heard him, the dead man,
But still he lay moaning:
I was much further out than you thought
And not waving but drowning.

Poor chap, he always loved larking
And now he's dead
It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,
They said.

Oh, no no no, it was too cold always
(Still the dead one lay moaning)
I was much too far out all my life
And not waving but drowning.