Well fancy seeing you here...

Hello and welcome to the rambling rollercoaster of useless ponderings, strung together in what the internet calls a "blog," and the voices call a waste of everyone elses time.

Please check your sanity at the door (along with your dignity, logic, principles, good taste and prejudices against daftness.)

"I am here to seduce you into a love of life; to help you to become a little more poetic; to help you die to the mundane and to the ordinary so that the extraordinary explodes in your life." -Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh

Friday, 18 April 2008

Googles Giant Goldfish Mafia

I saw an article about a goldfish in the newspaper today. It wasn't just an ordinary goldfish. That would be a ridiculous and rather unnecessary story to print. This was a GIANT goldfish. (...Not a 'Loch Ness' style colossus I'll admit, but compared to other goldfish it's a giant.) My father showed the same quizzical look you probably have now, when I told him about it this afternoon. I don't think people expect to be confronted with news of mutant goldfish at teatime on a Friday. He certainly seemed unprepared. The reason it has sparked my interest, is because I had a similar-looking goldfish when I was about four - only my goldfish was one inch long; this one is fifteen inches. Both large and small goldfish share the same uninspired name: Goldie.

I wasn't ever very imaginative when it came to naming things as a child. As well as Goldie the goldfish, my first rabbit was called Blackie, I had teddies called Bluey and Greenie, and we rescued a stray cat that I called Snowy. I like to think of it as an early demonstration of the later importance of artistic influence; that I was displaying a healthy appreciation of the colour spectrum...and not simply being inexcusably unoriginal.

It's probably a good job I'm not particularly maternal. I'd end up with kids called Ruby, Jet or Amber. (Those were the first colours-that-double-as-names that I thought of, but they're also gemstones - so with my history I probably really would end up with such daftly titled progeny.)

After the slap-dash manner in which my parents named me, it's no wonder I am rather inept at designating names to things. I've discussed my ludicrous christening with a few people recently because of Facebook. Being listed as Katie Lawrence has confused friends who know me as Kate, and those who remember the school referring to me as Katrina. It confuses me sometimes, never-mind them! Is it really any wonder that I'm a little unusual, when I got my name because "Katie" is how my Dad first introduced me to the dog? If you don't know the story then that statement will sound a little odd, as will the idea that no one told me my full name until I went to school, and that I had no idea how it was spelled on my birth certificate until I was sixteen. It's such a complicated business - most people know their own name, don't they? Except for Bob Geldof's kids, and people suffering from amnesia, but they both have quite reasonable excuses for being a little befuddled.

I was bored while cooking dinner and typed a few of my names into Googlisms, to see what it would say. Then I got really bored and typed the goldfish's name in. I never knew goldfishes led such interesting lives. Here are a few of the results:

Goldie is the boss of Chicago's Italian mafia.
Goldie is back.
Goldie is tenacious.
Goldie is the first vice.
Goldie is being offered for sale due to owner's injury.
Goldie is jungle's first celebrity.
Goldie is somewhat disparaging of this legacy.
Goldie is a minimal hovercraft.
Goldie is the star of this film.
Goldie is going through some kind of dilemma at the moment.
Goldie is fast, effective, and comparatively in expensive.
Goldie is just one of many.
Goldie is one of the UK's most prominent jazz guitarists.
Goldie is mad.
Goldie is one of the fastest rising superstars in the gator championship wrestling organization.
Goldie is more than just hype.

But most worryingly...Goldie is just as close to daughter Kate.

Goldfish certainly get around! (I don't know how much credit you should give this site, however, as it also told me that Morrissey was a squirrel, when he is clearly a genius.)

What's in a name anyway? Of course, I would like mine to be remembered in history - but as I struggle with it myself, then that appears increasingly unlikely! I recall being asked once to complete the sentence: "I would like to be remembered as..." and I answered that, "I would like to be remembered as somebody worth remembering."

It puts me in mind of a quote by American poet Richard Watson Gilder: "My name may have buoyancy enough to float upon the sea of time."

I hope my name 'floats upon the sea of time' - but if this nonsensical stream of effluvia is anything to go by, then it'll probably be floating in that rather unpleasantly notorious little bit of the Channel, equidistant between England and France. The bit David Walliams resented swimming through. Unfortunately, you don't raise £1million for charity by wading through this. Neither am I offering compensation for time wasted doing so. So don't even ask.

My day wasn't wholly goldfish-centred. I spent the first part of it taking photographs of myself in lingerie to try and help with the belief that I don't look quite as painfully thin as I did six months ago. I had a bet with a friend that I'd do it when I was happier with my figure, so I did. I'm beginning to get back into shape - but because I've always been thin, I don't feel my judgement is entirely sensible. I think that so many years of being slightly underweight have affected my perception of normality.

I'm more contented with the pictures than I had previously expected to be. (Now, whilst I am aware that I have traditionally posted photos of things I mention in this blog, I'm not posting those particular ones.)

That is not what I want my name to become famous for! Though, as only four of you admitted to reading this today, there's not much chance of any sort of fame from such a limited audience.

I will, however, leave you with this reference to an earlier comment regarding Goldie's alleged googlism exploits.

I found this image by typing "goldfish mafia" into Google. I really hope I never have to surrender this computer to the police. I don't know how I'd begin to explain that. This thing is hardly any sort of defense of my sanity is it!

EDIT: The article also said that - contrary to the generally recognised misconception - goldfish actually have resonably good memories. They remember things for up to three months. I forgot to tell you that bit.

I'm definitely not related to that goldfish.

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