A series of sentences on helmets of various kinds

From the (mostly) wonderful Kim Fabricius:
There are some churches that, for their παρρησία, [frankness] should have crash helmets in the pews – and others, for their bullshit, Wellington boots.

And from the equally wonderful Dave Pell:
There is no tantrum like a Put-Down-the-iPad Tantrum.
First I need to prepare. I put on my hazmat suit, helmet, and thick, dark goggles to make it less likely that I too will be pulled into the light. Any parent of an iPad-era child will be familiar with the other tools in my arsenal: Ear plugs, body padding, iron manacles, shock paddles, a straight jacket, an inflatable kayak (speaking in tongues while the head spins exorcist-like 360s can release a significant amount of saliva), WiFi jammers, tear gas, tasers; and for re-entry, candles, classical music, smelling salts, and several black and white paper printouts of familiar places and loved ones.
And even with all that, I give myself about a 50% shot of bringing my son’s attention back to the terrestrial world before the iPad battery runs out.

From my book, Grimhilda! - when I picked up on this paragraph I realised it had a typo in it! Now fixed...
The Sergeant Major marched out accompanied by two of his corporals. His uniform was a resplendent red, with gold braiding - unlike the drab combat kit of his Yankee counterparts. He wore a shiny gold helmet shaped rather like an old-fashioned policeman’s hat, except this one had a spike on top, with a white plume. Under his arm, he carried a pace-stick, which he used to prod people when necessary.

From an essay by Andre Dubus:
Because he and his father could not really talk to each other, this test of manual labour passes between them as a kind of spiritual gift from father to son. The gift is the opportunity to attain manhood, and the older Dubus reflects that "it is time to thank my father for wanting me to work and telling me I had to work and getting the job for me and buying me lunch and a pith helmet instead of taking me home to my mother and sister." If he had quit, Dubus writes, "he would have spent the summer at home, nestled in the love of two women, peering at my father's face, and yearning to be someone I respected, a varsity second baseman, a halfback . . . yearning to be a man among men, and that is where my father sent me with a helmet on my head." "Going home" to the women would have been to settle for passivity, to consign oneself to a world of yearning instead of a world of action.

And lastly, and most recently, a paragraph from an article on the Skully P-1, an upgraded motorcycle helmet that incorporates a digital head-up display, projecting a live feed from a 180-degree rear-facing camera, which eliminates the blind spots that affect other enclosing helmets.  The system can also broadcast turn-by-turn directions and pair with a smartphone to read back text messages, so the rider’s eyes can stay glued to the road.  It could get to be the driver's own cosy little world inside there.

The Invisible Bicycle Helmet

Not being a cyclist I've never quite understood why some people make such a fuss about wearing a helmet to protect their head in case of an accident.  Supposedly cycling has taken a downturn since helmets came in, which personally I find hard to believe.  Whatever the case, there are still people hassling about wearing these protective devices, so two women have invented the 'invisible cycle helmet.'

This short video doesn't show you the helmet until the very end: it's a neat surprise, and a leap of the imagination.

You'll have to go to Vimeo to see it (I haven't figured out how to get their videos to show up on my blog as yet).   But there's also more information about the helmet on the inventors' site.   You can also read what the Guardian wrote about it in May.

Both the women in these photos are wearing invisible helmets. 

Radio Interviews

I'm now back at home after doing my second radio interview about Grimhilda! in a week.  The first was with Owen Rooney last Thursday morning - the day before Grimhilda! opened.   The second was earlier tonight, with Donald Saville-Cook.  It took place in exactly the same studio, at Radio Dunedin.  I've learned a bit about Radio Dunedin over the last week or so; it's always good to know more about your local community.

To my surprise, I've found both the interviews quite enjoyable, and I was a lot more relaxed than I thought I'd be.  It helped that I was talking about something which I'm thoroughly familiar with.  If I'd been working on a subject about which I knew a great deal less, things might have been different...

On a totally different tack, I've been looking on my computer for something relating to a motorcycle helmet.  Surprisingly there's very little there.  A comment about purchasing Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance while we were in England in 2007 - I never actually read more than a few chapters before I gave it up as taking itself too seriously for its own good, and sold it on Trade Me.  It's a very popular book, but I wonder how many people actually get all the way through it - a bit like War and Peace in that sense!

One other reference was to an incident in Barcelona - this was in the same year, 2007.  I was wandering back to the place we were staying in when I sort of got caught up in a piece of moviemaking.  The film crew were filming a supposed robbery in which the robbers got away on a motorcycle.  The driver of the motorcycle had a helmet with horns on it for some reason.  Every time they filmed the robber running out of the building with the loot and getting away on the bike, the two of them had to go right round the block to get back again, because they were being filmed in a one-way street.  Not only that there was a cameraman on the back of a second bike, and of course they had to go round the block as well.  Such are the joys of moviemaking.