Wednesday, June 15, 2022

It's The Flattest Squarest Tube

Beware Humans!

We are about to encounter some disruptive reading ahead.

We can only approach if you have one of the following:

Time

Eyeballs

Interest

You might encounter several of the following emotions:

Anger

Disinterest

Joy

Sadness

Melancholia

All objections will of course be logged, but ultimately ignored as we are going this way anyway.

All set?

Za_0g*)! will take your names and hand out refreshments.

Our E.T.A. is 46.21zp (A8933347821bp time).

P.S. Our Editor [Mister K.R.Zong-k-kl] is currently on holiday and we haven't had time to do the washing up.



'Allo
'Allo
'Allo Tosh, Gotta Toshiba?
'Allo Tosh, Gotta Toshiba?
That's An FST
That's An FST
(Right)
Flattest Squarest Tube
It's The Flattest Squarest Tube
They Ain't 'Alf Built Well
They Ain't 'Alf Built Well
'Course Every Toshiba Component
Is Stronger To Last Longer.
Know What I Mean?
That's Good
Weeeey!
That's Good
Weeeeeey!
'Allo Tosh, Gotta Toshiba?
'Allo Tosh, Gotta Toshiba?

From another galaxy, though in reality only 37 years ago, here we have the brain-burrowing genius of great advertising. Even if you didn't want to buy one, you (well, certainly me) couldn't escape the fact that Toshiba was lodged in your brain for a considerable amount of time. 
Although there is some dubiety as to who sang it (some say Alexie Sayle [because of his great single "Hello John Got A New Motor" on which the ad was based] some say the late Ian Dury) personally I'll go with Dury - it actually sounds like him, albeit tarted up - Alexie was far too manic.

As for me (in a weirdly prescient move which pre-dated the advert by a few years) when I arrived in Dundee and got my College grant (yes, FREE Education - who could conceive of such a thing) I blew a small chunk of it on a Toshiba Ghetto Blaster (I think it was an RT-8155S). 
It was a fantastic machine, sounding great and taking an auxilliary input from my Akai 4000DS Reel-To-Reel (weird eh! but the majority of music I had, had been captured [or added] to reels of 7" tape - I wasn't going to lug my record collection to college, and I didn't have a cassette deck at home). 
The TOSH proved to be an all-round good egg of a buy for quite a number of years.

But what the hell has this got to do with photography you ask?
Aha, he said, fiendishly twirling his moustache, well, I could have entitled this "Ultimate Pano" or "Kamera Korner BARGINS" but didn't, simply because people would be rushing around and going crazy, creating alarms and looking for more ways to scalp us enthusiasts.
Y'see, at exactly the same time Toshiba (sic) were creating brain-burning ads and large lumps of plastic and metal that were ultimately bound for landfill, camera manufacturers were, I believe, reaching their peak.
It is easy to say that the peak had already been reached in the mid-70's and was tailing off, but I'll throw in the fact that, arguably, photography, and the ease of making good images (of which digital is the bastard child) really came into its own with supreme Japanese manufacturing techniques; universal camera automation and, above all, the sheer affordability that came in the 1980's.
My Olympus OM10, bought new with a 50mm f1.8 lens in 1980, cost me £105 (with a case!) - I took thousands of photographs with it - honestly, I did.
And more incredibly, apart from a lazy iris on the lens, it still works really well - the shutter blind auto-exposure system (sort of a checky effect) is still accurate; OK the foam has gone a tad, but a couple of new Silver Oxides and it is up and working, snappily, the way it should. 
That is astonishing VFM.
A 40 year old, reliable companion that helped educate my eye. 
It was an affordable investment to me at the time - one could say that it brought a whole new slant to life which is still with me.
And that affordability was the genius of economies of scale.

At the time, being a student, money was a BIG thing, as in you didn't really have any. You could though withdraw £15 in cash, old money, on a Friday, get really steamed on Friday and Saturday and still have ackers for the following week. 
So you can see from that even with the OM's £100 price mark (a not insignificant investment) the sheer reliability and simplicity and above all else relative affordability (for what was really a luxury item) made it a 'must have'.
If you were serious about trying this new-fangled thang on a student's budget, it was either the OM or a Pentax K1000 - they were both priced the same - but to me the OM felt futuristic whereas the K1000 felt decidedly old and clunky. So I bought it and fell in love with shutters.

From the start, I also knew that when the bug bit seriously, I had to get better cameras. 
I became totally enamoured by the square (courtesy of DOJCA's vast collection of student loan Mamiya 330s) so would consequently glue my nose against Jessop's windows staring at the lovely Zenza-Bronica SQs they had on display - they were gourgeous
Of course they weren't Hasselblads (as far as I was aware - though I hadn't even seen one in the flesh!) but they were their equal in my eyes. 
If only I could have got one, I could have lurched off into the blue yonder to take landscape photographs that would move people . . . sigh.
And then reality bit.
Who gave a damn about pictures of hills and weather and trees (well I did - it made up a chunk of my degree show); landscape was dreadfully unfashionable, and as is often the way of dreams and hope, my ambition was throttled by hard reality and the need to find employment.
No back up, no money and my aspirations of becoming a landscape photographer/"fine-art" printer died in the cocoon.

And then . . . . in a planetary orbit somewhere down the line . . . .

A piece of luck, magic and puntsmanship happened. 
I borrowed money from my son's Uni repayment fund and I found myself with a Hasselblad 500 C/M.
Made in 1985, it had belonged to a retiring professional who had bought it as back-up, and had had it regularly checked over by Hasselblad - the wonderful, tactile body cost me £335; my first lens (the 60mm Distagon) cost £439. 
The body (from pretty much the same era as my old Toshiba - still wearing a dayglo tracksuit with shoulder pads) hasn't gone to landfill, and in fact (based upon today's prices) would currently have been able to buy three versions of its secondhand self in old money; in other words sublime engineering doesn't seem to go out of fashion, it just seems to accrue more value.
When I received it, I knew I held something special, but more importantly, the ghost of that young landscape photographer in me was moved to eventually come alive again and I give thanks for that.


Hasselblad 500 C/M,Hasselblad 40mm CF/FLE Distagon,Ilford HP5+,Kodak HC 110 Dilution B,© Phil Rogers Dundee,
Homeless Encampment - Dundee 2022


However this is rambling off-piste on a grand scale - so I'll find the track again, let you have a breather and a wee, and we'll get cracking on.

I have a friend who collects antiquities and he always says (when asked [by me] about the cost of something he has bought):

"Well, they're not making them anymore . . . " 

To which I would add, with the way prices on pretty much any old film camera are looking these days, have we hit a sort of ceiling or are things going to continue rising in cost exponentially, given:

"they're not making them anymore . . . "

It's a thorny issue.
For instance, who would have thought the lowly (yet lovely) Olympus Trip 35, would be snapped up by newbies for the equivalent price of my old OM10 (or even more). 
It's a fine camera, but hardly the dog's wobblers.

And so it goes on - as someone who uses a 500 regularly, can I truly justify (on average) £120+ on a useful Bay 60 coloured filter? Or £350+ for a replacement waist level finder?
 
Has avarice and the ability to finance and then horde, turned what used to be a thoroughly enjoyable, egalitarian hobby into something that is starting to look like the art and investment world?
During WW II, they had a word for it: PROFITEERING.
 
I mean, c'mon, £1000+ for a Leica M2 body
£2500 for a M6?
Both great cameras, but that great?
Is marque valued over ergonomics?

Which begs the question, is it really time to act on all those Minolta Dynax' or Canon EOS, or Nikon prosumers?
Are the likes of the Canon Sureshot et al, tomorrow's Trips?

Maybe.
Knock yerself out  - snap 'em up now - they're decent, well made cameras; (currently) supremely cheap enough that if the electronics fail, you can nab another and carry on - you could probably buy nearly a hundred (or more!) of these old things for the current cost of a 500 C/M and 80mm Planar.
Much to my chagrin, a few years back I contributed to this madness by selling a Nikon AF600 (which I'd bought for a fiver) at a massively over-inflated price . . . it's a plastic auto-Nikon with a decent fixed focal length lens, but hardly LEGENDARY - an attribute you will find on the net . . . 

Given the recent selling price of an Andy Warhol screen print (not even the original photograph, that was by Eugene Kornman) when the world is awash with art, are we looking at certain of the great photographic manufacturing names entering into the realms of Raphael or Picasso, or even Rolex and Omega,  Fabergé and Tiffany etc etc.
It is a chilling (yet stupid) thought, because where does it stop?
All it needs f'rinstance for some net-twat to proclaim that the old giveaway red panoramic cameras are brilliant and the next thing you know everybody wants one, and, ahem:

"they're not making them anymore . . . "

In reality though, yer plastic fantastic is not the main monkey business.
It's the big jobs.
Though a Leica is a fine machine, does it handle any better than, say, a Canonet to justify the price difference? 
A Hasselblad is also a fine machine, but in reality (though you buy one because it is a system camera) does it handle any better than a Bronica SQ, or even a Rolleicord?
An X-Pan now goes for as much as a secondhand car . . . . yet, the red panoramics or indeed any 35mm compact with a panoramic setting will produce nearly the same format (though not the same square millimeterage - 1584 sq/mm if you need to know). 
In fact the above-mentioned Nikon AF600 had panoramic mode AND a fine lens . . . see what I mean,

I have a feeling the market is being dictated by wheelers and dealers who don't use film cameras on a regular basis, nor really know that much about what they are selling save the name (and all important net-reputation) - a case in point is the 40mm M-mount Minolta Rokkor lens originally made for the Leica CL. A startlingly sharp lens, yet (because it isn't German or even Canadian and an old bit of info that it won't focus as accurately on a M . . . though apparently it does) widely ignored by a chunk of the Leicaphile community. 
If it is an ideal focal length and incredibly sharp, who wouldn't buy one to go with their M? 
Oh wait a minute, it isn't one of The Pantheon. It's too cheap. Jap-Crap. Move on, move on.
The same goes for Canon L39 lenses - easily the equal of their Leitz equivalents, probably better in regard to age related issues, and yet . . . . 
I could slap a new/old Zuiko on my OM10 and go out taking photographs - I'd come back with results that were pretty damn good - those Zuiko wides were always lovely. 
I could buy a Nikkormat (still incredibly cheap for such a reliable machine) and take advantage of all those great pre-Ai lenses and arguably take as good (or better) photographs as I do with my M2.
At the sizes I enlarge negatives to, why not ditch the Hasselblad - a Rolleicord would probably do me fine.

What I am saying is:

Just because a camera has a legendary name, it doesn't mean it is imbued with magic.

It just means that the people who were fortunate enough to be able to make a living or a name from photography, chose the legendary brands because of availability/reliability/reputation, AND THEN, created magic.

It's like guitarists who buy their heroes guitars so they can sound like them.
It ain't going to happen. Not ever, not at all.
Guitar magic comes from the soul, your fingers and your heart. 
Add in physicality, stance, grip; the million minutiae that go to make a person AND THEN, that person's ability to put something of their self into the machine they are using.
It is as individualistic as your fingerprints.
Yet a whole decades-old industry has been built upon the premise of:

Certain instruments, if used correctly, might just make you:

a. AS GOOD AS

b. SOUND LIKE

c. BE

 your favourite player.

There are great parallels with photography.

The salient point is though, with guitars there are still cheaper instruments being made. And the thing about them is, they allow proto-musicians to find their own voice

When film cameras were cheap and plentiful, yep, they allowed the photographer to train their eyes and hone their craft - find their own voice within the world of traditional photography as it were. 
But that went with digital and the rise of the phone.

Jings, it must be really hard if, say, you are in your late teens, mad to take photos, want to try film, buy a Lomo, enjoy it but get frustrated, want to try something better and discover you have to mortgage your kidneys to get something that my generation took for granted.
Maybe though, at this moment in time (2022 for all you time travellers) it is time to kiss those kidneys goodbye, because, as I said:

"they're not making them anymore . . "

The film camera as style icon/fashion accessory/hero machine/investment piece . . . it is coming, if, indeed, it isn't here already.

Investors have already moved in and enthusiasts are being driven out.

There are parallels with the tech/housing crisis in the States (go on - look it up!) - what a strange world. Tom Joad must be spinning in his grave.

Please note:

We have now passed through the main turbulence and are about to enter an area of space known as "DEEP SADNESS".

Many come out of the other side in reflective mood but with mayonnaise stains on their ties.

Those sandwiches Za_0g*)! is handing out are a bit rank aren't they.

Photography has always been regarded as a bit of a "retired dentists'" hobby, as in you have enough money to fund something that has never been (and is now more than ever not) cheap
Vanishingly so these days, wouldn't you say?
There they were at dentists conventions (sic) wielding M6's, not because it necessarily meant anything, but because, like all good dental machinery, an M6 (et al) was a finely put together machine that (deservedly so) was to be admired.
Even Her Madge, Elizabeth II had a M6 ff's sake . . . 

However, at current prices, a Leica M6 is a thing that few film enthusiasts will ever be able to admire (let alone fondle.) 
They're now only touchable by 'serious' buyers. 
And as such, are you, the enthused enthusiast, being forced into an investment/speculate situation simply because of the movements in the market.

To draw parallels with the guitar trade, I certainly know now, that back in 1989/90 when I was offered a 1962 Fender Stratocaster for about £1200 (but turned it down because I didn't have the money and didn't like Strats [!!]; or even way back, mid-1970's [when hair and 'rock' were the thing so why on earth would anyone want a 'country orientated' early/mid-60's Fender Telecaster for about £150 - and believe me, Wardour Street and Charing Cross Road were awash with these things]) I wish I'd had the gumption (and the cash) to take a punt.

Hindsight is a rare thing:

Ten or Fifteen years back there were thousands of secondhand M6's around. They averaged around £700.
Now, as with all things Leica and film-based (though curiously NOT the old, L39s [in my opinion, the proper spirit of the Leica]) the market is as dry as a desert, unless of course you have a King's Ransom to spare
Weirdly this dearth doesn't apply to certain useful accessories, which says something.
As for the cameras and the likes of the close-range Summicron, or indeed the 35mm Summi, they appear to have all gone into collections, to have new hand-stitched Italian leather suits placed on them; to be oggled by one's friends; dusted and cleaned with balsams and balms on high days and holidays . . . 
A world far removed from their original intent as an intuitive, small, precise, window on the world.

The hunka-hunka chunk of Swedish engineering that is my 500, designed for professional use (imagine, some of those 1980's 500s that people are paying well over £1000 for, could have possibly been seeing hundreds of rolls of film a week through them in a big studio - they were after all a professional tool) is now a thing lusted over and I believe, being increasingly bought for its aesthetics and investment value rather than its original purpose as a maker of supreme quality images.

A sad old world where yet again, money is valued over art. Where, controversially, talent is possibly being held back by market forces.
A case in point, I met a lad a year or so back - totally enthused - photographing around the back of the Art College. We were both masked and careful. 
We chatted. 
He clearly had talent and an enthusiasm that was infectious - he named names from the Pantheon Of Greats and I mentioned a few he'd not heard of; he really wanted to use film on a regular basis.
He was using a cheap Digi-Canon, because he said he was unable to afford a decent film camera (and indeed all the extra stuff required to remain film-based.) 
I felt a little (shall we say) circumspect with a SWC/M on a carbon fibre Gitzo with Arca ballhead . . . .
I hope he finally managed to afford to get something, because you could tell, with the right tools this bloke would have flown. 
You don't get to talk with that much vim, without being in love with the thing.

I could go on, but I won't, I do however feel that we're entering a new age in camera use. 

Please could all passengers hand their litter to Za_0g*)!

Entertainment will commence in 3 minutes.

It was going to be a Space Cowboy adventure with James T.Kirk (Clone 4) riding into town and sorting out bandits, but unfortunately our Prime account has been increased to 4.2 Zongs per solar year and seeing as we are a budget operation we are no longer able to subscribe.

Za_0g*)! however has found an old Betamax machine and we have rigged it to show a Third Generation copy of Mork And Mindy.
Oh boy, I am looking forward to this!
Nano Nano!

A lot of these cameras are old (well, certainly ageing) yet serviceable machines, but the way things are going, in reality, and in an alternate universe, would you take your 1930's Frazer Nash out to Tescos, or your '60's Lamborghini to your local supermarket car park?

Are we getting to the point whereby (because of the likes of the red dot spotting camera snatchers - they do exist btw, ask Za_0g*)! ) you don't take your pride and joy out, simply because it is too valuable or precious?

In an era when the agricultural, reliable, metal and glass breeze-block that is the Mamiya RB67 is on the highway to £1000+ (!) and it's sibling the RZ has now gone stratospheric (though curiously nobody gives a shit about the Bronica GS1), do we have to rethink how we approach our hobby?

It is really hard to see further down the line - the future is far muddier than it was even 5 years ago. 
Will film become something manufactured in ever decreasing circles? 
I mean why, these days, would anyone bother using Kodak unless they are either vastly rich or mad? Sorry American cousins, no idea what it is like with you, but it is double the price of everything else over here and thus (to me eyes) they've totally written themselves out of the UK film-buying market.

If, because of current pressures on world commodities and resources, film, chemical and paper prices rise to the extent that for the average Joe, they are unviable, sic:

Eat?

Heat? 

Photography? 

Where does it go from there?
Despite the "Analog Revolution" maybe people will just think:

Fuck it - I never print anything anyway, why not just save money, go totally digital, view it onscreen and be done with it.

And yes, I haven't been living in a cupboard  - I do realise people use film and scan it - that's fine, but to be honest how many of those scans are ever printed? 
Made into a PHOTOGRAPH to be hung or passed around? 
I would estimate approximately 75% of all scanned film ends up as Flickr feeds and goes nowhere else.
Actually, when  you look at it like that, logically, apart from the process of using a film camera (which is always enjoyable) and processing film (which is always a voyage of discovery) scanning seems to be a largely pointless activity. You could get the same end result (images viewed only on screen) using a digital camera.
It's a controversial statement I know, and I am still not sure how I feel about it.

But if cost starts to factor more and more and people realise that they could achieve the same end result just purely digitally and film sales start to retract to the extent that it is no longer a viable medium . . . . where do your investment pieces go then?
It'd be like a gun without bullets.
Or a Lamborghini without petrol.
Beautiful to look at, but effectively as useless as an Instamatic.

I hope I am raising more questions than answers, as it has always been my intent to get people to think about this wonderful hobby. 
If it makes you question things, then good, but it'll do little to the current state of profiteering.

It's funny y'know but Bruce (from the Online Darkroom) and I have a sort of camera watch thing going on (he recently sent me a pic of a guy in St. Andrews carrying a Fuji GW690 f'rinstance). He's beating me though, because apart from a couple of Japanese girls in Dubrovnik and Rome; a bloke with a Trip in Jedburgh and a kid with a Minolta in Edinburgh, I have never spotted another film photographer in the wild in the past 15 years. 

WTF is going on?

For all the "Analog Revolution" is film photography dying on the vine?
Are we already in the raisin stage   - a few old wrinkled fruits left whilst the rest of the crop have dried beyond redemption?
Remember good old film is nothing more than oil, silver, chemicals and energy. 
Will it even exist when $100+ barrels of oil and Vlad's squeeze on minerals/resources/food/energy mean that it is no longer viable to produce?
In economies of scale terms (and I have no idea how Harman/Ilford do it these days, but I love them for their commitment and quality) everything is moving in tighter circles.

Could we (that's you and me!) be the last of the WET photographers?

It is a chilling thought, yet one which demands (in a nice way) that, for the moment, could the investment market please just piss off and leave the use of (and ability to afford) these working machines to people who can still appreciate them and practice their craft whilst there is still film left to use.
I think we're on a Razor's Edge with film. 
If it becomes too expensive, we stop using it. 
If cameras (tools, not toys) become unaffordable then we stop using it.
Simple as that. 
And when it is gone, it is gone.
It'll be as antiquated as glass plates.

Certainly there are still plenty of cameras out there, but remember you are dealing with a finite resource
OK you'll say, you can still buy new cameras. 
OK I'll say, thank you for the Alpa 12 (approximately £10,000 with lens - wonder how many they sell a year?) but feel free to keep the Lomo.
So the non-superstar photography enthusiast is left with what is left - see what I mean?

If you're like me and you have a few (!) cameras, look after them - they're treasures. 
Though even then, I wonder (50 years down the line) who there will be with the specialist skills to look after them. 
The madness of a Leica CLA (after all you can't have your pride and joy going around with soiled underpants) means that all the Leica specialists in the UK seem to be booked up all the time - there appears to be little headroom.
Are new guys and gals being trained?
Who knows.
If I was really young and mechanically-minded I think I know what I'd do . . . 

It would be nice if, in say 50 years time when I am pushing up the daisies, some young buck was OUT THERE with a remnant of my humble collection, taking images, feeling atmospheres and kicking the ball further down the field.
My rictus grin would be enormous, yet sadly I can't see it. 
There are too many people pissing in the pool and making it desperately unpleasant for us swimmers, and not only that, someone has taken the plug out . . . .
Looked at in terms like that, it is GRIM.


Hasselblad 500 C/M,Hasselblad 40mm CF/FLE Distagon,Ilford HP5+,Kodak HC 110 Dilution B,© Phil Rogers Dundee,
Sunshine As Grafitti - Dundee 2022


Don't you think it is a sobering thought (tinged with deep sadness) about what has been lost in the exodus to digital?
(F'rinstance 1506 separate parts, assembled by hand, in a Nikon F2!)
And what is still being lost in over-weighting the market (£3000 for a 500C/M and 80mm? . . . . on Ebay as of today from a well-known dealer . . . c'mon)
You're talking around £15,000 for a new Leica M/A and a 50mm Noctilux - hardly student money - see what I mean about retired dentists?
Where is the affordability in the market?
Is my current viewpoint terribly pessimistic? Maybe, but I would always say I am a pragmatist before anything. 

Looking at it another way, us seasoned old geezers and galzers, raised on Brownies, Instamatics and then proper toys, have probably got on average 25 years left.
Everything we've taken for granted is going to get worse from commodity prices to weather to over-population.
So unless we can get ourselves into the future that was always sold to us back in those days of yore: y'know, personal space ships, holidays on Mars, we're stuck on Planet Earth.
But What about the Neu-Philanthropists? I hear you cry . . . 
Well unless we can afford to buddy-up to Bezos or Musk [sic] and get ourselves cryogenically frozen and aboard the next ship outta here, then there's no hope. 
Remember "SPACE!" is currently being monetised and besides, can you imagine a generation of baby-boomers in space? All those weightless Zimmers and broken bones, and not only that, I can't really imagine nipping into a Jessops for a roll of HP5+ when you're orbiting PA-99-N2 and persuading your team mates that you really need that last supply of Java to make some Caffenol . . .

So if we're stuck here, dealing with two finite resources (cameras and film) then surely the logical thing would be for people to be able to afford both and keep the ball rolling.

Of course all this pontificating on my behalf will change nothing.
I know for certain that I will never pop my clogs with a Rollei 2.8F in my hands, or an Alpa, or an Ebony View, or a Linhof 617, the way things are going even the more modest machines are being priced way beyond the reach of most people.
Some Hasselblads are now nearly 150-200% more expensive than they were even a few years back.
And that's not just Ebay . . . dealers, we really are watching you.

What a fucking shame.

Some serious thinking needs to be done on this. 
Remember it is no longer the 1970's or even the '80's. 

Nothing is a surety any more - when it is gone it really is gone.

So, to all you enthusiasts out there, I salute you and your wallets - hope you can find (or have found) something affordable to fall in love with and more importantly can afford to feed your passion.
Please start talking about this.
I agree profits have to be made by everyone, that is after all the world we've sewn ourselves into, but there's no need for the way things are going.
Over and out.

We are going to be landing in a few minutes.

Please ensure the following are firmly fixed:

Seat Belts

Teeth

Eyeballs

Za_0g*)!is handing out sick bags.

Please ensure you know how to use one correctly.


Message from Herman:

I put the above thinking down to reading too many apocalyptic SF books when I was a youngster - it sets your brain in survival mode, and you have to think everything through down the line - in other words try and figure out all scenarios and the cost is just one of them. 

Regular readers will have spotted, the pics aren't square. That's right, they're 645 from an A16 back. Lens was a (cough cough, looks at shoes, cough) newly acquired 40mm Distagon. I sold some old guitar stuff and afforded it that way - it was a good price, and is a heck of a lens. Not quite the same as a Biogon - more modern looking - but certainly incredibly sharp and (more to the point) easier to compose with.
Over and oot.
H xx






Monday, May 23, 2022

Close Encounters (Of The Close Kind)

Morning folks - hope you are all keeping well and positive.

Today's little ditty is about a thing that (strangely) over the years I have come to care about deeply:

Dundee's Closes and Pends.

Er, Wot? I hear you say.

Well, basically they're little lanes and cul-de-sacs in the interstitial spaces between buildings - a throw-back to times when medieval cities grew exponentially as populations increased. 
They were/are messy, tight, dark, surprising and, to my mind, utterly wonderful

Many cities still have theirs - I am thinking particularly of York and Chester and lots of European cities, though theirs are as nothing to here. 
Well that's not quite true actually. 
Ours might well have rivalled them all had this city not been subjected to, erm, how shall we put it politely, 'improvements'.

Tear-downs; new this and that; bolstering up; neglect; architectural laissez-faire - you know the sort of thing.

Granted, from reading the evidence, a vast amount of upgrading was required, however, to my mind, and certainly to my mind's eye, one can only imagine what this place would have been like had the medieval/post-medieval city been allowed to remain, AND we hadn't had "the most corrupt council in the UK in the 1960's". 
Oh yes, architectural gems, slums, monuments, you name it and it got pulled down
If you are in any doubts about this bold statement, just ask Brian Cox - you know, the gruff Scots actor (not the physicist). 
Brian can remember a time when this city still wore its poverty with a fierce pride and a distinct bonhomie that was as both surprising (to a newcomer to the city) as it was accepting. 
It wasn't for nothing that Jackie Leven penned the ditty "The Bars Of Dundee". I seem to remember him saying somewhere that the city's hard-drinking culture was a special, but ultimately destructive, thing, but that it had helped him out when he needed a friend.

There is quite a lot of written and photographic evidence of the old city; I actually think there's probably been more books written by Dundonians about their city than there has by anyone about anywhere else. It's that pride thing methinks.
If you are interested, there's a wonderful archive called Photopolis. The majority of the photographs were taken by Mr. Alexander Wilson with his plate camera over a period from the 1870's to 1905!
If you have leisure time, you can find them here
They are wonderful.

Anyway, back to closes and pends. 
Sadly these days, they've mostly been closed off, or left single open-ended for access, resulting in the look of the photographs below - it isn't a happy state.


© Phil Rogers Dundee,Hasselblad SWC/M,Ilford Delta 400,Pyrocat-HD,
Pullar's Close 1


© Phil Rogers Dundee,Hasselblad SWC/M,Ilford Delta 400,Pyrocat-HD,
Pullar's Close 2


These were taken in Pullar's Close.
It is literally across the road from the wonderful McManus Galleries and yet within the space of a few hundred yards you have gone from somewhere that people care deeply about (the McManus is a fine place to visit - I love it) to a place that literally nobody gives a shit about. 

Indeed, broken waste-water pipes at the back of one of the tenements overshadowing the close is resulting in a proper, medieval shit and bath water pool, the likes of which were banished from the kingdom, oooooh, at least 200 years ago!
But that's the thing - nobody cares.

The bits where the buildings have been shored up have been dealt with in a mess of security gates, razor wire, CCTV, and, perhaps the most heinous of crimes . . .  cement pointing. 

[The latter just means that because Scottish sandstone is relatively 'soft' (in stone terms not soft, but you know what I mean) and cement is inflexible and impermeable, when the stone around a cement-pointed joint wears (because of weather erosion - and it will, that is the nature of the beast) water gets into the small gaps between the pointing and the stone. 
The stone gets wet, stays wet and when a hard Winter comes, the water freezes causing ice bulges, which split and crack the stone. 
It is a natural process, but cement really hastens it along. 
These joints should have a lime pointing which is flexible and breathable. 
It is kinder to the building.
Here endeth today's lesson!]

Anyway, documenting what is left of these wonderful medieval hangovers is something of a project for me and I am thoroughly enjoying it . . . I just wish I had a time machine.

The above negatives were Delta 400 processed in Pyrocat-HD, but I think my metering was well off that day as most of them seem underexposed. I had sort of resigned myself to filing them away and forgetting about them.
However help was at hand in a bit of wayward thinking. 

I have never in my life printed anything on Grade 4 - have you? 
It never seemed necessary, and not only that, on a 'normal' negative, you'll just get pretty much soot and whitewash, so harder grade printing was filed away as a WTF's The Point thing.
However, having recently had Bruce (from The O.D.) enthuse about Wynn Bullock's Stark Tree print - a masterpiece of printing - I revisited his section in the book 'Darkroom' where he mentions using hard grade papers for underexposed negatives. 
A big 'Duuuuuuuuuuuuuur!' thunderclapped over me, of course, that's the whole point of harder grades.
I'll put my forgetfulness down to the fact that most of my negatives are perfect all the time - naturally (he said, tongue in cheek).

So, both of the above were printed on Grade 4 at very short exposures (8 seconds at f22 on the DeVere/Vivitar combo) with about 4 seconds extra for each edge and the skylight bits (which were hard sunshine) got an extra 8 seconds.
I could see, as they emerged in the developer, that they looked lovely, with a glow that made me feel quite proud.
The scans don't really do them justice, but they work as prints.
The paper was bog standard Ilford MGRC and I'll need to print them properly at some point.
The camera was the SWC/M on a monopod.

Seeing as it worked this time I also intend to go back over other underexposed negatives that I have given up on and try the same technique - it was an eye-opener.

And that as they say is that!

I've loads more stuff to come, but am still mid-decoration, so am having to balance time and ladders.

Until we next meet, be good, take care and stop feeding those seagulls.
H xx

Wednesday, May 04, 2022

Big Meal, Full Plate

Morning folks - before I start this FB I'd like to mention that the excellent Turkish photographer Omar Özenir has started a new English language blog - his previous one being Geldurkal
It is always worth reading his insights and looking at his sublime printing and photographic skills - highly recommended. 
Anyway the new one - in a stroke of genius - is called "Intermittent Agitation" and you can find it HERE.

Well, a couple of weeks back in a sort of gotta-get-out-of-the-smell-of-paint-fumes-and dust sorta way, I hauled out the Wista DX, Super Angulon 90mm, some ancientally expired film and walked less than a quarter of a mile from my house, to take some photos.

Incredibly you can fit an entire, small, 5x4 set-up, including camera, lens, 2 DDS's AND a dark cloth, loupe, ancilliary equipment etc. into the highly versatile and brick-outhouse built Think Tank Urban Disguise 40 V2. shoulder bag. 
It is quite a remarkable wee thing that packs easily to one side whilst you're under the dark cloth and removes the horror and hassle of a backpack/bumbag set-up.


Wista DX,© Phil Rogers Dundee,Schneider 90mm f8 Super Angulon,TMX 400,Kodak HC 110 Dilution B



Wista DX,© Phil Rogers Dundee,Schneider 90mm f8 Super Angulon,TMX 400,Kodak HC 110 Dilution B


The above were an exercise in using a 'new' paper - the "Full Plate" size of 6.5 x 8.5".
I wanted to try something that could balance economy with weight if you know what I mean - an inch and half all round bigger than my recent experiments with 5x7" paper, the 'Arfur as I now lovingly call it, delivers the balance that I wanted. 
It is a satisfying size to print 5x4 onto, and I think the same will be so when I get around to printing some 6x6 negatives too.

The above negatives were Kodak TMX 400, rated at EI 200. The film expired in 2012 (I have no idea why Kodak film is more expensive than Gold these days - seems a fecking stupid move. Luckily I have about 75 mixed sheets of TMX 100 and TXP 320 to use - all expired 2013.)
It was developed in some truly ancient HC110 (at least 10 years old) Dilution B, and remarkably, they came in at 6 minutes development time. 
I find that utterly astonishing.

The prints were Grade 3 on Ilford's "New" MGRC - I don't know whether it is my eyes, but the "new" paper looks slightly more contrasty at Grade 3 than the last lot. 
Who knows. 
Eyes can be deceptive.

And that's it - briefer than a pair of briefs.
Today I go back to even more painting - it will end eventually I am sure, just have to keep our heads down, keep going and keep the faith.
Till the next time, stock up on film now - a year further on and you'll regret not doing so.
H xx











Wednesday, April 06, 2022

King Kong Vs. Godzilla

Oh boy folks, this is a strange one, in which yer Sheephouse discovers his brain is wired in a very strange way.

I know what you're thinking (and probably have been thinking for a while). 
You're thinking:

"Ee's never content, not 'im. 
That geezer has more sense than money, or should that be the other way around. 
'Ee's a Nutter!"

And why would I be thinking that you're thinking that?
Well . . I've been spending again.

Y'see, during some mad, drunken, lockdown thinking, I thought I'd take up something I had always wanted to do (and was I the only one? Erm NO!)

The thinking was:

Why not learn to Play The Banjo?

Bonkers I know, blame it on Flatt & Scruggs And The Foggy Mountain Boys and The Beverley Hillbillies,  but once the seed was planted I could not get over it.

Anyway, I sourced one (a lovely Deering Picking Earl if you want to know) and a new case too (which, when it arrived slightly damaged [the case, not the banjo] I was told to "just throw away". I didn't - I repaired it and it was fine).

However, try as I might (and even though I got not bad at it) I just couldn't get used to the difference in size between a guitar neck and a banjo neck - my hand hurt all the time and something had to give. 
Seeing as I have played guitar since 1974, it had to be the banjo - which was a great shame really.
The story has a happy end though - it is in a new, happy home playing Grunge/Bluegrass, so all is right with the world. 

Anyway, the money that had been tied up in that chunk of wood, skin and weird resonaterey stuff, has now been sunk into lots more film; a B60 Polariser; an A16 back for the Hasselblad; AND on a whim, a prism finder for the 'Blad too.


© Phil Rogers
Kong Or Godzilla - You Decide


After some extensive reading on prisms (oh the sheer excitement!) it was either a NC2 or a PM. 
I watched and waited as usual, but nothing decent was around, until, one day, I discovered a PM45 - the final iteration of the Hasselblad unmetered prism (with those seemingly important these days [go figure] two blue stripes.) 
"Oooooh!" I thought, and it was within the budget, so I bought it.

Now if you Google these you'll see there are sellers wanting over £500 for one. 
This is utter madness
Mine was considerably less than that, and that is probably their worth. 
They're beautifully made, certainly, but £500????!!!! 
I dunno, the world has gone to pot - everyone is so greedy, and in the case of accessories, deranged.

Anyway, it arrived.
Perfect condition, great optics and, when properly focussed on an Acute Matte, a surprisingly bright and cohesive image. 
And the "Right" way around too.
The only problem was, 

NOTHING LOOKED RIGHT!

It is true. 
Not a sausage.

I think decades of viewing square bɘƨɿɘvɘɿ images (as has been the case with Rollie, Mamiya, Minolta, Hasselblad [and don't forget a long time immersed in the reversed, upside down oblong of 5x4]) has wired my brain to view the world in that orientation.
Obviously this is not the case with general living, only when using a camera. 
Crickey - I'd be up a creek if that were so. 


© Phil Rogers
The Gates Of Delerium


© Phil Rogers
Not What It Actually Looks Like
   Simply Because The Rubber Bit Got In The Way
This Is Heavily Cropped, But The Right Way Round
                                          

Thinking about it weirdly (as usual) it probably defines why I never felt quite at home with the Pentax 67 or the Koni-Omega (right way prism view and rangefinder respectively) and, if truth be told, I still find life hard using a 35mm camera.
The latter I find quite a strange thing to say too, because I cut my teeth on an Olympus OM10 and a Pentax K1000, before gearing up to the back-to-front big boys with the Mamiya C330F.

Obviously after all this time, my M2 and F's are second nature to use, but I have had a nagging thing at the back of my mind for a while, about giving up 35mm altogether and I am wondering whether the polarised viewpoint I have just encountered with the Hasselblad, has maybe been brewing for years. 

I don't actually know

All I do know is that it feels uncomfortable viewing the right-way-round world through the PM45 and yet switching back to the wrong-way-round WLF feels like putting on an old pair of house-trousers that I'll never throw out.



© Phil Rogers
Sanity Is Restored


It's a weird one isn't it. 
Maybe you feel the same way, maybe you don't.

It is probably just me
I think that being forced to view a reversed image makes one concentrate more on the image. If I remember rightly Ansel (or one of the Pantheon Of Analogue Gods) wrote something, somewhere, about the meditative effect of viewing a ground glass.
I think there is definitely something to it, and no matter what, me and those trousers have come a long way together.

Before re-reviewing this post I got the whole set-up out again and did more comparisons; things felt better this time, but not intuitive or comfortable, and I am also wondering whether the new sheer hulk of the 500C/M with the PM45 is contributing to my feelings. 
It has turned something already quite big, yet strangely svelte, into something more akin to a bucket of concrete.

This being said the view is impressively bright, and like old bud Bruce at the Online Darkroom has said (with regard to his Rollei SL66) a prism on a MF camera is probably something more suited to tripod handling. 
He's probably right.

I think I'll stick with the day-to-day, off-kilter world of composition with a reversed image, AND the lovely element of surprise when you view your newly developed negatives with what (to that point) had been in your mind's eye as totally reversed.

I need to do more work . . . or get out more.


© Phil Rogers
More Sanity Restored


© Toho Co., Ltd.
Personally I'd Go With Godzilla,
I Was Never A Kong Fan


And that as they say, is that.
A nice quick one today. 
No proper photographs posted because I haven't actually taken any since February - I dunno, I find it hard to justify 'self' time when I've got nearly 60 square metres of wall space to decorate, plus the woodwork. 
Madness.

Till next time, take care and watch out for The Atomic Breath.
H xxx







Monday, March 21, 2022

That Cream Cracker Feeling

Morning folks - here we go again!

You know, incredibly, on the 9th of March TEN YEARS AGO, I started Blogging. 
It was a weird new-fangled sort o' thang and I wasn't sure what I'd make of it and yet here we are, sitting on a bench enjoying some swigs of Tizer and a nice packet of Cheese n' Onion crisps, overlooking a landfill site packed with 164 published posts.
Weirdly if feels like a lot more than that.
But hey-ho . . . to coin a modern phrase "It Is What It Is."
If you've read them all, God Bless You - it can't have been easy!

Anyway, here's another and there I was, with time on my hands, a wee bit of cash in my pocket, a Rolleiflex that was starting to play up and a head full of ideas.

Regular readers will know that I am a Hassleblad Man through and through these days. 
Cue craggy jaw, Bee-Gees style quiffy hair, something nice and polyestery for togs and a 500C/M around my neck . . . however, and it is a big however, toting a 500 and say a 250mm lens around a City Centre the likes of Dundee results in two things:

One, you look like a bit of a twat and 

Two, you look like a bit of a twat.

Y'see the Blad is very much a consideration, and especially these days when you see nobody with cameras, well, one can feel, how to say, a tad conspicuous. 
It feels gigantic, even though it is actually not that bad. 
Sadly I've never had an 80mm Planar - maybe I would feel different then, however the 60mm Distagon is a similar size and it can still feel like you're toting something very unusual.
As an amendum to this and given the way things are going, I have resigned myself to the fact that it is now very unlikely I will ever be able to afford a nice 80mm CF Planar.

Anyway, this set me thinking, and I came to the conclusion that a TLR is probably the most user-friendly and inconspicuous camera capable of decent quality images out there.





I've used TLRs for years, way back to my College days of a Mamiya C330F weighing me down like a boat anchor; through a couple of decades being a Rollei T user and a side-trip along the Minolta Autocord bypass. 
They're handy and small. 
You get more real estate for your money than 35mm and if, like me, the prospect of taking 36 (or even 24) photographs is something that makes you go "Waaaaah!" then the 12 (or 16 with Rollei's handy 16-on kits) is not quite as bad. 
The (roughly) packet of Jacob's Cream Crackers (70's style) size of a TLR is quite discreet, allied with the fact that it mostly never leaves your front panel (midriff and chest) means you've got a high quality picture making machine that doesn't poke out too much (unlike a Hasselblad).

Anyway, thinking like that, I thought Why not get a Rolleicord Va or Vb? 
Whilst I am not entirely off that idea, there didn't seem to be much difference from my current Rollei set-up, apart from a more reliable film transport.
Why not get the T repaired? 
Well it has been before and to be honest you're going to be a small fortune these days. 
It is weird how repair vs. disposability is becoming a factor in buying older cameras, so something a tad newer and less battered was a consideration, though that isn't always the case as we shall see.

So I went through the gamut:

Rolleicord - all varieties - very similar to my T - not discounted.
Yashica - fine, but getting expensive.
Ricohs et al - again, fine, but pretty ancient now.
MPP Microcord - as above
Zeiss Ikoflex - nice but as an everyday tool?
Mamiya - ah, God, the Black Hole Brick.

It was Bruce at the Online Darkroom that suggested the Mam. 
Like me, he'd used them back in the 80's, and we both still have the scars to prove it. 
The C330 in all iterations, is, to put it bluntly heavy.
Weight with lens is approx. 1650 gms. 
Doesn't sound too bad, but to put that into some perspective, the weight of a Cherry Wood Wista DX 5x4 wooden field camera without lens is 1800 gms. 
Bear in mind the Wista has a solid wood framework, bellows, ground glass, brass fittings, a sturdy base plate and is sized and designed for all the process of using 5x4" film . . . well, you get my drift.
The Mamiya pops all that weight into something not much fatter than a square box of crackers (OK, so Jacob's Cream Crackers did seem inordinately big back in the 1970's but then I was a lot smaller then, so go figure).
Pop the weight of the Mam onto a nasty little faux leather thin strap (like they used to have) and you have something that saws through your shoulder or neck at a rate of knots. 
Fortunately these days, you have a better choice of strap - Optech Pro Straps come highly recommended for a start.
For me though, a C330 in whatever variation? 
No weigh hosepipe.

But I was attracted to the range, in particular the standard lens; I'd used the 80mm for most of my college show and I knew it to be good. Very good actually and somewhat unsung in this day and age.
So, where from there?
Well there was only one way actually . . . down 110 - the C220 (1500 gms with lens - still no Rollei, but any difference is a difference).
So I came to a decision and sat and waited.
And waited some more.
And more.
And more.

And then, a nice late C220 (not F) turned up. I matched it with a late Sekor-S 80mm. These are "Blue Dot" lenses, but more "POST Blue Dot" meaning they're the last of the production run of Sekors for the TLRs. My thinking again was that a later (albeit late '80's/early '90's) shutter is a better prospect than a '60's or 70's.

I was excited as I always am when a new camera arrives. 
This wasn't to be a steep learning curve though - I'd had one welded to me in the '80's and I knew what to expect.

And so he/she/it/they turned up. I fitted an old Nikon strap I had; settled myself into the heft of the thing; loaded a film; gaped in quiet amazement at how precise and quiet the ratchet advance on the 220 felt and donning my cape, off I went!

Sadly, this is where the whole story went shit-shaped. 
I've included the 3 contact prints from the first 3 films below, and I'll sit at the back and wait for one of you to put your hands up and tell me what is wrong with them:

"What's that Smythe?
The PHOTOGRAPHS?
1500 lines on "The Importance Of Co-operation In Society, on my desk, Monday morning!" 


Very Little In Focus


Even Less In Focus


OK - so after the first one I thought:
 
"What the feck is going on?!!" 

and other, more colourful epithets.
Nothing I wanted to be in focus was in focus.
I loaded another roll of Foma, went to some effort, came home developed it and went:

"Cheese and fecking Crackers!!!!"

The blank frames you see are operator error, but despite extreme care and copious notes, nothing was right. Pretty much everything was not in focus.

So I had an examine and looked at the focus screen a number of times and then it dawned on me . . . it wasn't an original.
Certainly it was incredibly bright and the microprism in the centre was very useful, but by now I was thinking, it's probably an aftermarket Chinese job and must be off.
And this is where Google image search came in. 
I typed in "Mamiya TLR Focus Screen" and got a lot of stuff coming up, which was all scrawled through until I came across something which looked about right. 
Not only did it look right, it felt right, so I contacted the manufacturer.

Rick Oleson is a great bloke - I've read his camera repair notes on and off for years, and a few quick queries and attached photos confirmed that is was indeed one of his. 
He was SO helpful, even down to sending me instructions for correctly fitting the screen.
You can find him here - tell him I sent you.

So, taking my guts between my teeth I set out to check things.
The first thing that came to light was a rattling sound when the bellows were extended.
Hmm, velly interesting, I thought as a small brass screw shot out of the lens 'ole.
Ahhh, turned out it was one of the screws for mounting the screen.
Whoever had fitted it had made a half-cocked effort.

With everything disassembled, I followed as best I could Rick's instructions, put it all back together again, checking lens focus on a ground glass taped over the film gate against what I saw on the screen. When I'd got it all Kuschty Rye, I breathed deeply, loaded yet another film and went out again.





This was better, however the focus was still off
Man was I peeved. 
In frame 7 above - the poster was spot on (on the screen); in frame 9, the focal point was on the edge of the bricks on the left side of the frame. Stopping down significantly did yield a result that was enough in focus for me (frame 6) however you might see that the frame spacing had gone off.
So in a fit of pique, I phoned the vendor and they took it back.
I have to say they were utterly apologetic. 
I was quite happy to wait as I actually enjoyed using the camera, so off it went for repair. 
I told them about the screen, and, a month later they confirmed that yes, even with my tinkering, the screen was still a tad off, however (cue the fanfare) the taking lens and viewing lens did not match each other's focus points in the slightest
I'd had a suspicion the lens had been dropped at some point, and indeed this would confirm that; in something like a TLR lens unit where each has to match each other completely, then any deviation was sure to make a monkey of you. 
Optics, despite their robustness, can be severely affected by drop-damage - it is something to watch out for.

So that leaves me here. 
The vendor says he's sourced me another lens and is waiting for it to be serviced and then the camera/lens combo will be checked for everything before sending it back to me. 
Very good service indeed.

In the meantime here's a couple of large scans off of the contact print. 
They're not proper prints but will suffice for the moment.


Sunny Morning Alien Invasion



What A Load Or Rubbish


And that's it folks - we're still here and breathing despite the best efforts of certain parts of the world, so, till the next time, take care, count to 10 and remember that someone has knotted your shoelaces together.
H xxx

Thursday, February 24, 2022

Hold Onto Your Hats

Morning folks - well that was a strange one - sleep disturbed by awakening in room which was completely pitch and then getting a bee in my bonnet and going in hunt of the DVD of Alan Bleasedale's "Boys From The Black Stuff".
Pre-bed it was the full immensity of the Doomsday Clock set at 100 Seconds To Midnight and today awakening to what I once thought were noctilucent clouds, but are in fact just snow-heads; or could it be the drifting souls of all those lost in conflict over the years, demanding that this time something has to stop.

Coo that's a lot of ground covered, and it doesn't even factor in the fact that we're on the brink of something incredibly serious.


The Normality Of War
Dubrovnik, 2017


It is hard as a child born just 16 years after the end of World War II to imagine such a conflagration ever happening again. 

Does nobody watch "The World At War" any more?
It should be part of the World's National Curricula.
 
When I was young, London, even my bits of North London, was riddled with bomb-sites. 
The South Bank still bore scars of bombing. 
Even Neasden, Wembley and Harrow had weed and water-filled holes in the ground, surrounded by hoardings and so on.
My father's kit bag and ARP helmet were in the loft. 
My Ma's pressed steel first aid box, with instructions on how to deal with gas and burns was in daily use.
My generation grew up with war - it was at us the whole time. 
Not just the aftermath of WW II but Vietnam in particular and all the things you got your kids for Christmas and birthdays like Action Man and Johnny Sevens'.
I was fascinated by it with daily playing with Airfix soldiers and indeed anything else warlike I could get my hands on.

And on into adult life, the Falklands and so on.
And then you need to factor in all the other manly, call-to-arms crap, like Korea; Vietnam; Former Yugoslavia; Syria; Afghanistan etc etc . . . drone drone drone . . . Africa, Asia, Middle East, South America, Ireland - my life has been surrounded by it.
On holiday in Dubrovnik, post-conflagration, we saw the repairs to roofs, the scars and history, all worn on the city's sleeve like a badge of honour - and I mean no disrespect by that.
On a trip to Berlin a couple of years later, the walls around Museum Island are riddled with bullet scars.
There are memorials everywhere. Air-craft shelters. The infamous car park. 
Berlin too wears war on its sleeve.
Back in the UK with numerous anniversaries, people still get lumps in their throats talking about Grandad, or Uncle Tom and what they did during WW II.
We're still living with the aftermath of it..

It never ceases to amaze me that, like so many serfs and knights, people can be wheeled into conflict just like that. 
Does nobody think about anything, ever, at all? 
Oh, I need a job. 
Good here's some money, decent grub and sturdy clothing. 
We will become more than your family. 
Now go and kill someone over there.

There's a well-known expression:

"Those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it."

So why, as a worldwide population, are we in thrall to a bunch of pseudo-silver backs.
All that posturing, grunting, beating of chests and showing what great gorillas they are. 
I'll name no names, but they're all there, from politics and tech, to every single aspect of life. 
Were it not so sad, you would consider it a great joke.
Why aren't they called out for the self-obsessed folk that they are?

It won't happen though. 
Power is meaningful and as such the problem with mankind is mankind.
There seems to be no common cause save greed and money/power - we mire ourselves in old enmity rather than see the bigger picture, which should be, live life, accept and help others, try to be as best a bunny you can be and above all else work towards a greater unified goal
It is 100% stupid that this goes by the way- think of the advances that would occur, were it to be decided that mankind needs to work towards a common cause for mankind
None of this chest beating. 
No great ape pretensions here.
We have to be beyond that.
Yet time and again we fall back into the same old ruts.

Not only is this depressing, but it is also worrying.
I would draw anyone interested in what could have happened (and bear in mind we're way beyond the measly little weapons shown in this) into the most terrifying and actually prescient piece of documentary I can think of, Peter Watkin's banned documentary "The War Game".
You can find it HERE

OK, it is slightly dated, but the info is still chillingly relevant.
Be very scared.


Holocaust Memorial Berlin
A Surprisingly Solemn Yet Joyous Place
Love and Life Must Triumph.


Holocaust Victims Statues
Jewish Cemetery, Berlin


I know it seems trite to say it, but as usual I had to mention the photography. 
The first photograph was taken in Dubrovnik on the Sony A6000 and 35mm, f2 Nikkor "O".
The others were taken in Berlin on a Canon EOS 50D with the pancake 40mm, f2.8 lens.
They're as war-like as I could muster.
They all show the consequence of conflict, but if this continues, we can sex it up and modernise as much as we like, but I can guarantee the faces of people will look just the same as the statues in picture 3. 
I think, to the young, raised to an extent in the shadow of the shadow of war, armed conflict is going to come as a real shock.
God help us all.

And that's it - brief again but why not - if it all goes shit-shaped this could be it!
Before I go, I couldn't say it any better than this:

They shoot without shame
In the name of a piece of dirt
For a change of accent
Or the colour of your shirt
Better the pride that resides
In a citizen of the world
Than the pride that divides
When a colorful rag is unfurled



Me? 
I am praying to the Aliens.
H xx