I probably won’t get to post between now and Sunday evening, so I’m calling it now for… Spain.  No, Germany!

I’m mesmerised by this YouTube video, which shows a massive counterweight suspended inside Taiwan’s Taipei 101, the world’s tallest building (for now) acting against the tremors felt from the Sichuan earthquake on May 12.  I don’t quite understand the physics behind it, but the weight, which more or less stays still as the building sways around it, apparently dampens the effect of the movement.  You’ll find an explanation from someone who knows what they’re talking about over at BLDGBLOG:

As earthquake waves pass up through the structure, the ball remains all but stationary; its inertia helps to counteract the movements of the building around it, thus “dampening” the earthquake.

I have some gerberas in a vase in front of my window. I don’t ever buy gerberas, but I was buying flowers for a boy who was staying in my house and they seemed appropriately manly. And you know what? I really, really like them. I might only ever buy gerberas from now on.

Are flower names capitalised? And why do I want the plural of gerbera to be “gerbera”?

I’m quite pleased that every single prediction I made in my last post (Van Persie scoring, Holland continuing on good form, Turkey exiting against Croatia, Spain losing to Italy) turned out to be wrong. I still think Germany will win it, but at least we’ve got the prospect of two interesting semi-finals along the way. And who’d have thought that Turkey would be in the last four? Awkwardly, it was me that set up the office sweepstake, so if I win I probably have to give the money away anyway. I’m already being accused of some sophisticated type of cheating involving insider knowledge and a direct personal line to some of the tournament’s key players.

Look at this!

This is an artist’s impression of a plan to convert Battersea Power Station into a source of renewable energy - read the full story at inhabitat.com. It’s all very commendable, and the new structure itself is elegant and interesting, but the old power station’s dominance over the skyline of that corner of London, which is the best thing about it, will be markedly diminished if they do go ahead and build it. I’m not convinced.

I’ve resisted writing about Euro 2008, because I could wibble on for a very long time without having very much to say.  I drew Turkey in the office sweepstake, which seemed like a poor choice at the time but they’re still in it, at least for the next five hours.  More promisingly, I drew Robin Van Persie for the golden boot, which if Holland keep up the form they started off with might get me somewhere.

Before the tournament started I confidently predicted Germany would win.  Now I’m not so sure, even though they looked good against Portugal (my second choice) last night.  Mainly, though, I just don’t understand football.  How can a national team maintain the same characteristics over decades and across completely different players and coaches?  But history still works better than form as an indicator of a team’s chances.  As I said to my beloved last night, Portugal should win because they’ve looked three times better over the competition, but traditionally, Germany win difficult knock-out games.  And lo and behold, they breezed it.  It’s all very odd, and means that my latest tip for the trophy, Spain, will probably go out on Sunday.  That’s what Spain do after all, isn’t it?

Outside an Italian restaurant in Bloomsbury, a couple next to us; both indeterminately European. They are discussing his career prospects, and eventually he bursts out: “If I don’t get tenure next year, I’m just going to…blog about it.”

via passiveaggressivenotes.com

I’ve got today - a Monday - off work, and I’ve spent more of the day than is strictly useful looking out of the window.  And I’ve made a discovery, which is that unless in some massively unlikely coincidence all my neighbours have also taken the day off, I am the only person on the estate who goes to work.  Everyone else has stayed in all day, doing exactly what they do in the evenings and at weekends (I have a good view into several flats from mine; of course, this also means they have a good view of me, but I rarely do anything interesting, so it doesn’t matter).

So if you’re a burglar, don’t bother with my estate.  Nobody ever goes out.

I took this photo last weekend. I liked the composition at the time, but I like it even more now it’s developed - it was taken with a crappy disposable camera, which seems to have given it a slightly grainy, almost chalky finish. As someone else pointed out, if Edward Hopper had been in the habit of visiting the English seaside, he might have painted something that looked a bit like this.