One Hundred Futures

In the post today, a copy of Futures From Nature, an anthology of 100 of short short stories first published in Nature. You can read my contribution, ‘Meat’, here.

In The Cut

Yesterday, visited the Tate Modern to see Doris Salcedo’s installation. One of my favourite walks, through Islington and down St John Street past Smithfield, Little Britain, and St Paul’s Cathedral, and across the Thames on the wobbly bridge. Like a descent back through the centuries, from Islington’s nineteenth century suburb and Georgian squares, down to the twelfth century when Smithfield was ‘Smoothfield’, where horses were sold, and St
Bartholomew’s Hospital was founded, and on to the timeless river.

Salcedo’s installation is a riverine crack that runs down the floor of the huge Turbine
Hall. Impressive in execution, cunningly made so that the bottom can’t be seen, but dwarfed by its surroundings, and rather too obviously a construct, with its new wire grid and fresh concrete. The barabarian in me thought that it might be imporoved by jets of vapour spouting at unpredictable intervals, and perhaps some Lovecraftian tentacles grabbing at art-lovers, who seemed unsure how to react, mostly getting photographed straddling it, or dipping the tip of their shoe into the narrow void. No one fell in while I was there.

Cyberyarn

'A stitch, in essence, is a pixel.'

Back To The Future

I rewatched Children of Men the other day and enjoyed it as much if not more (because I could pay more attention to the scrupulous texture) the second time around. One of my movies of the decade, so far. In one of the extras, the philosopher/critic Savoj Zizek (who is always good value) commented that what was happening in the background of the movie was more important than what was foregrounded. I think that’s true for all good science fiction.