Someone came through via Google today on the search words: is iceland really ice?

A perfectly valid question, of course. Perfectly valid. Although with technology and the global village and all that, you’d think that maybe, just maybe, the Entire World would know by now that ICELAND IS NOT REALLY ICE. Greenland is the place you want. Obviously.

Someone else came through via Google today on the search words ‘Icelandic mafia’. [They were from a rather reputable UK banking institution, too. I’ll say no more.] My guess is that they were looking for the dirt on old Baugur, who as it happens are having their day in court tomorrow [coincidence?]. Be that as it may, they landed here. No reports yet as to whether they received satisfactory answers to their queries.

Caught an interview on telly the other night with Björk’s main squeeze, one Matthew Barney, who is here to premiere his new film at the Iceland Film Festival. Now, I don’t know the first thing about the guy, but it would seem to me that he does not have a humorous bone in his entire body. I mean, really. He’s a Very Serious Artist, described his Vision in great advanced detail, and did not even offer so much as the hint of a smile or a joke the entire interview. Jeez! I mean, I’ll grant that the guy is an Artistic Superstar and he’s got a reputation to uphold, but really, he should lighten up a little. That said, he does make movies where people have onions protruding from their anuses, so maybe it’s actually YT who’s missing something.

Or perhaps I should just quit rambling and Shut Up.

Fricking cold! Went out for a walk about an hour ago to catch the last bit of daylight [although by the time I’d got my shoes on it was all gone] and got Frozen Thigh Syndrome. Despite the very sensible presence of cotton tights underneath my jeans. Clearly it was a wool-tights kind of day. Never mind; right now we have –6°C and the sun came up at… um, can’t tell you because my little calendar has gone AWOL. But it was late. And it set early.