Word of the day #9: agoropolis

agoropolis, n. a city comprised entirely of retail outlets, and lacking the public services, homes, and other facilities that would support its citizens.

From the Greek agora, marketplace, and polis, city.

The concept of the agoropolis was created by British writer Monty Monteith, who wrote futuristic fiction in the 1940s.

Monteith had enjoyed the depth of classical education appropriate to his class, and during his time abroad, spent many months on Mykonos and Crete, as well as mainland Greece.

Few know if it was this, or the mysterious months he spent in Lapland during the winter of 1938—a period for which he was largely unable to account upon his return to England—that prompted him to conjure the agoropolis. Many believe it was a combination of the two.

Monteith's agoropolis was a cold, fractured anti-idyll, where the citizens had no homes or shelters, and were trapped in a maze of shops from birth (usually on a street, beneath a tree manicured by the Keepers of Streetscapes—the retail equivalent of council workers, employed by wealthy merchants) until death (usually in some dank bargain basement).

So entrenched, the citizens could do nothing but pursue purchases. They spent their days trawling market stalls, eating street food as they walked between merchants' stores, trying things out and on, and attempting to gain the attention of uninterested store clerks.

In an intriguing twist, the citizens of Monteith's agoropolis had no money—since they had no employment—and thus were destined to window-shop for their entire lives.

They were able to obtain food by using a complex system of accounts, like modern-day tabs, with a restricted number of food sellers.

Yet they were never able to purchase or own the items that they were forced, by circumstances beyond their control, to spend their lives focused upon.

Scholars have since addressed the similarities between Monteith's agoropolis and Dante's Inferno in papers of varying merit.

I love the way she tells stories

Mind-blowing lines #26

From The Death of Bunny Munro. Which is prettymuch all the preamble you need on this occasion.

Soon Bunny Junior will sit back in his seat and stare out at the white, weather-bitten cliffs and the flocks of seagulls that feast on the newly turned earth in the fields that line the coastal road. He will think that even though his mother would come into his room and hold him and stroke his forehead and cry her eyes out, her hand was still the softest, sweetest, warmest thing he had ever felt, and he will look up and see a flock of starlings trace the angles of her face in the sky. He will think that if he could just feel that soft, warm hand on his forehead again then he would he didn't know what.

[nothing]

[what is good is the trees and the garden
the quiet
and the sound of wind in the trees
like rain, like waves, like breath, the leaves:
spiralling onward
outlasting death]

Seeya sweetcheeks

Hey, you.

A few things have come up. I may not be around as much. But don't think I've forgotten you.

Alida

Linkety link-link

Remember the "user experience"? I know—what with FaceBook verily screaming up the popularity charts, it's easy to forget that these kinds of off-the-wall notions still matter.

Contrary to popular misconception, text also contributes to the user experience. Text can, for example, be "usable" or "unusable" (often it's just plain "useless").

Case in point: imagine that, in writing a text link to your website, you exclude the site's domain name in favour of the category keywords, like so:

"Visit PetBlog.com pet and animal blog."

Why would you do such a thing? Why, search rankings, of course.

Of course! Why else would anyone do something so clearly, obviously, unconscionably counter-intuitive? Why would anyone purposely reduce the usability of their content like this? Why would they obfuscate their own message?

Nope, I can't think of another reason.

Come on, Internet. Think! Think: scanning. Think: common sense. Think: human decency.

Maybe you don't care whether or not people to remember your domain. Maybe you don't care if they can scan the article for it or not. Maybe you think we're all chumps and all that matters is fickle, fickle search rank. Well, fine, moron. Good luck to you.

...and yes, if you like, you can tell me I'm being overly pedantic and taking this a little too personally in the comments. Whatever. I'm off to write some half-decent link text.

New-concept reality television

I can't think why I didn't come up with this astonishing new, blockbuster-worthy reality TV idea the last time I got on this bandwagon, but suffice it to say I didn't.

The new concept takes Masterchef and turns it on its head:

Master Leftovers-Chef

Anyone can make something decent from a nice loin of pork, some pear, pomegranate, balsamic vinegar, good olive oil and rocket. Anyone. If you fuck that up, you don't deserve a kitchen.

But who could make something decent from the ingredients with which I was faced this evening?

• cold mashed potato
• cold cooked linguini
• dried broccoli (yes, that made you sit up, didn't it?)*
• leftover salad
• a shriveled capsicum
• approximately half a cup of the green tomato chutney I'd just made but couldn't fit in the jar
• boring table cheese (although to be honest, interesting cheese would probably only have made matters worse)
  
• wilted beet tops**
  

I know what you're thinking: why didn't you thaw some frozen eggs*** and make a meal of it, sister?

I don't know why I didn't. Really, I don't. I would love to see George Colombaris and Gary Whoever-he-is make something edible from that lot. I dare them to. On Master Leftovers-Chef. Just try and tell me that doesn't have arse-on-seat appeal. Everyday cooks the country over would cheer. Cheer. I promise you.

And yes, dinner was actually pretty good, thank you for asking.

*In case you're wondering, I'm not kidding about any of this.
**Still not kidding.
***See above.