Cognitive dissonance

Posted on August 2, 2014 by Steve Morgan

[aka Fucking with your mind!]

Be confused… be very confused! If you were brought up on the myths and legends of a corner of Cardiff known as Tiger Bay, then the latest extension of the 21st century docklands redevelopment will mess with whatever is left of your functioning brain cells. After air-brushing a major part of local history out of the picture for a few decades, the latest in local bureaucratic administrative hype is set to house, employ and entertain you. Put your hands together and welcome the vision that is Porth Teigr!

Whatever that is… because what is emerging out of the primordial slime of Roath Basin bears no relationship to the proud badge of Tiger Bay; and it isn’t even in the same place as the original! Not that the location of the original has anything of architectural merit to draw the attention of the discerning student of urban mythology… the southernmost boundaries of the original, relatively small Tiger Bay area, is demarcated by some prime examples of skyline blight, which actually looks even more attractive than the low level flats and houses that hold many of the original street names…

‘Porth‘ is Welsh for ‘gate’… so in modern parlance are we supposed to have created a misdemeanour on such a scale that it becomes ‘Tiger Gate‘? Well, if you look at the blandness of the 1960’s architectural replacement for the previous Victorian ‘slums’, perhaps we have. Social engineering had become a slight of hand for so-called urban redevelopment… a destruction of world renowned character makes way for the monumental achievement of bland mediocrity.

Why are we so reluctant to celebrate our gritty historical reality when it doesn’t conform to the textbook presentation of swords and sandals, or castles and stately homes? Here we have the site of the very first multicultural society in the UK, built on the necessity of world trade, and testimony to the power of the melting pot to bring people together in local harmony. Heaven forbid that we might put the cost of demolition and reconstruction into refurbishment of what already exists. Or perhaps the forbears of the Ukip tendency were subtly at work, with a long-sighted determinism to break up any thriving community based largely on immigration. It becomes less easy to blame it on the immigrants if we have the tangible evidence of their hard-working contribution to our financial and cultural wealth.

As a cat who originates from London but was duped into relocating into the old docklands of Cardiff I am intrigued by all this Tiger-stuff, and hope to bring you more of the true history of this historical and cultural landmark. Until we speak again I have been ‘Immigrant Juno’, scrounging off my native ‘repatriated refugee’, and contributing mainly through my litter tray!

Existential angst

Posted on July 25, 2014 by Steve Morgan

A strange juxtaposition is occurring down at the water’s edge. Just when the native waterfowl thought it was safe to bask amongst the toxic algae of the once formidable old dock, dual threats emerge to challenge the meaning of their very existence. To be consumed is a given, but by who or what now becomes a battle ground to test out the true meaning of life.

Just when a superior predator of my kind arrives on the scene as the expected feline threat to anything dressed in feathers, I also find myself sharing the bewilderment at the world conquering rise and expanse of Chinese domination.

Is this a Ming Dynasty after-thought we see over-shadowing the once powerful Bute East Dock? A Welsh pagoda style rises out of the depths to house the hot air and wind combination of local government. But the question arises as to whether this source of heat can be converted into another form of culinary energy, somewhat reminiscent of the take-away/restaurant variety proliferating Chinese cuisine the world over?

This has been ‘Culinary Missive’ Juno reflecting a tale of unsatisfied hunger, and until we speak again may all of your ducks be aromatic and crispy!

Key to a kiss

Posted on July 19, 2014 by Steve Morgan

This adopted home of mine has a seemingly insatiable capacity to draw out the most unexpected of emotions from time to time. Take the other day, there I was minding my own business, gently sashaying along the boulevard… a cool cat in shades with a gentle breeze through the whiskers, when I am arrested by a heart fluttering vision. Being in the heart of the renovated old industrial docklands my first thought was of a site of romantic antiquity, a monument for the demarcation of a long forgotten industrial love story… thoughts drifting to the romantic melting pot that was Tiger Bay, a mere palpitation away across the railway tracks.

Curvy, groovy, and altogether suggestive of tender moments spent with the cat you love. A reminder that us cats may spend time in territorial seclusion, but thrive most when we are lost in thoughts of others… particularly those with the special quality of occupying almost every waking moment. Step aside Paris, take a break Venice, the capital of romance has found a new candle-lit table to gaze across. As the warm sun bathes my coat I am left to ponder whether this is a clue as to why my ‘in-house failed romantic‘ decided on a return to their spiritual home of Cardiff… was it a search following love lost for the potential to be re-ignited by some unexpected magical tryst. Nope, I guess it was just the pure romance of economics, and a pint of Brains SA!

So, my message from the heart of Cardiff to all you cats who decide your lives from the head, is to occasionally listen from the heart… you may just be surprised by what could change and transform your bowl into a banquet.

Then again, if you can’t spare a kiss for the one you love, I can offer you the alternative of my furry rump, along with a cut-throat razor for re-shaping some of your thinking!

Until we speak again this has been Romancer Juno, and sick bags will be provided on request.

Serendipity

Posted on July 12, 2014 by Steve Morgan

Here’s the thing… while taking a quiet stroll around the gentle backwaters and streets of the former world renowned docklands, and more recent industrial wastelands, you never know what pleasant surprise might befall you. Why, just the other day while I was contemplating the historical significance of my home surroundings, I was suddenly confronted by a strange vision of the future yet to be imagined.

Take a slide on the downside, Silicon Valley… rip your heart out, Seoul… give way, Tech Roundabout… Cardiff is making its creative play for the crowning mantle in technological advances. First there was the phone, then there was the TV, now it is the turn of the, well… ‘up, over and down thing’. For the Danes and Swedes it has become the focal point for joint adventures into gruesome murder mysteries. But, in Cardiff it is making a play for the mantle of knowledge and urban savvy. Herald the age of the…

Until we meet again I am going to be a baffled Juno pondering the question “just what the hell do we do with it?”

Cool at One

Posted on June 29, 2014 by Steve Morgan

How time fly’s when you spend most of the day either sleeping or licking your nether regions. There I was, deep in meditation…

… when my ‘kidnapper of culinary dreams’ decided it was time for a literary celebration. It seems that a year has already passed since the resident ‘Nonsense-in-Chief’ decided I would become a star of the blogosphere. No, I haven’t got a clue what that means either. To my personal dismay I am told I have been a Cool Cat for precisely one year… this of course is complete tosh; being a lady I’m not giving away my age, but I assure you I have been a Cool Cat wherever I have been for the whole of my life!

As for this celebration thing… there are limits, and a point when a head down the loo or offering a simple view of a fury rump out of a nearby box have their merits. Or it is just time for the more sophisticated among us to get a grip…

Apart from you humans, the point at which a year arrives is as good as any to do a bit of reflective thinking. Whereas all you lot seem to have achieved at one year is the ability to scream and wail, and project nasty stuff in all directions from both ends!

So, what should you have learned about this Cardiff place from my first year of imparted wisdom? Firstly, they have a strange way of doing architecture. When the brief says “a sophisticated blend of the old and new” I’m not sure that this is what the commissioning people exactly had in mind:

But, when it comes to combining architecture with food, and if food really is your religion, the locals can come up with interesting new ideas for accommodating the likes of multiple feeding bowls and litter trays:

As for those moments when you left your shopping list at home, and you are sure that a violin, a Dalek, and a good cup of coffee were prominent amongst the essentials of the day, then the Castle Arcade is the place of your dreams:

Many a fellow feline in London told me before I moved that they communicate differently in that Wales place, but I was still unprepared. For example, they take health and safety of children very seriously, to the point of being very clear of the dangers of tree-climbing:

As an indigenous population many of these cats may not travel very far (or is that Americans I am thinking of?), but they like to keep busy. So, there is no shortage of signs telling you were to go… in the politest sense of the phrase of course (unless you happen to be more obviously English):

Before, during and after a busy day having been told where to go, you will be in need of refreshment. So, this is when in Cardiff you really have to use your Brains! However, refreshment is also where the true multi-cultural legacy of the capital city comes into its own:

The local brew is often to be found in its most splendid clarity (with Chris at The City Arms offering me free beer for the publicity… Not!). But, beware of local historians, all too eager to share their rose-tinted time warp stories of when Brains SA was the real deal.

However, with all of the zeitgeisty nonsense about immigration going on around these ancient lands of Perfidious Albion, it is the demands of the time warp fraternity that are at the centre of allowing interesting brands of low cloud in from the regions of England. The original multicultural port of Cardiff, giving rise to the infamous Tiger Bay, is now succeeded by little more than multi-regional representation in the brews that local people are prepared to fall over from, as a result of joyous consumption.

Just don’t ask about the local football team… you are a season too late on that one. And as for the historic local rugby team… my coughing and spluttering has nothing to do with choking on a furball. Suffice to say, this is a city that wears its sporting failures with as much ‘anonymity’ as it can muster. They even provide convenient masks lying around in public places in order to avoid being easily identified as a supporter:

So, it has been one year of me filling your bowl with quality morsels, and tugging on your tail about the issues that matter in this adopted city of mine. As I preen my whiskers at the thought of 84 posts in the bag, my final thought before we speak again is “are you looking at me?”

Animals and the city

Posted on June 7, 2014 by Steve Morgan

My in-house DJ seems to be regularly blasting an album by Muse at me over recent months, and one track called Animals keeps attracting my reluctant attention. Whilst the actual track is a damnation of the bankers who have recently brought the world to its financial knees, I have had cause to link it more specifically to the mental state of the self-professed musicologist who seems to think it is ok to address more attention to their living soundtrack than the more obvious priority… me!

Whilst I consider myself to be somewhat superior to your average mammal, I see no particular reason to desert the inevitable challenges and travails of living in a predominantly human oriented urban environment. Why would I want to go scavenging and scrapping for territory and food, when I can just look cute and get it all brought to me on a plate (well in a pathetic bowl, if I am honest)?

So, you will understand my dismay to see all of this local evidence of my animal friends plotting their escape out of Cardiff. Firstly there is The Bear Shop, a Cardiff smokers institution since 1870…

… yet only now does the locally famous occupant decide to take a run at the window in an audacious attempt to experience the new largely smoke-controlled environment outside. He must have heard that a million beagles can’t be wrong (but you have to be above a certain age to understand that animal liberation tale).

And as if dog emancipation wasn’t enough to tax my powers of compassion, I am then reliably informed that a couple of monkeys in the city centre are constructing some form of time-machine, with the aid of English saboteurs from Leeds, to facilitate their potential for escape:

What did Cardiff ever do to Leeds? Well, apart from claiming to trigger the massive plummeting of their football team from the brink of Premier League football glory in 2002 to third tier ignominy in 2007.

However, nothing could prepare me for the massive animal jail break out of Cardiff Castle. Perhaps it is just a local animal amateur dramatics society re-enactment of the Colditz escape. The William Burges design for the Third Marquis of Bute in 1880’s provides a popular sight for locals and tourists alike around part of the castle wall, but now it seems poor unsuspecting shoppers and tourists would be powerless to evade the ensuing stampede…

: Lynx

: Seal

: Hyena

: Panther

: Anteater

: Pelican

Meanwhile, down the Bay, perplexed sea-gulls circle in anguished patrols, determined that their preferred fish suppers remain on the menu, as news gets out that some of the aquatic types have sussed ways of escaping through the barrage:

But, once again, if you are looking for success, even in the arena of escapology it seems we all have to look back to my previous home city of London. Rather mystifyingly, my ‘resident numpty‘ tells me there is terrifying evidence that a super-sized hamster has gone missing!

Personally, I think the only hamster that is really missing is the one that was supposed to be driving the wheel operating the brain of my surrogate scribe! Until we speak again this Juno may be contemplating her own escape, in search of a saner environment.

The Strengths Revolution

Posted on April 25, 2014 by Steve Morgan

David Ivor Davies (1893 – 1951) is better known as Ivor Novello, and is one of the famous sons of this once world renowned maritime city of Cardiff, as well as giving his name to some prestigious songwriting awards. Now he sits in quiet contemplation as an important figure in Cardiff Bay. Strolling down his way the other day I happened to notice that our Ivor had become very distracted, so being an inquisitive cat I took it upon myself to check out what it was that so commanded his attention.

To my delight I could see that it was the advancement of a revolution that had occupied his attention… a ‘Strengths Revolution’. Wales having for so long been home to a notoriously dour race of introspective people, pre-occupied by the rise and fall of their industrial heritage… with canals overgrown, docks lying derelict and empty, coalmines closed and winding gear dismantled, and the steel industry owned by foreign investors with little sentiment for the old Welsh workhorse. All of this to be replaced by the inevitable late 20th century and early 21st century drive for a love of bureaucracy and shallow entertainment, monolithic edifices to shopping and service industries, with depths plumbed through the cult of celebrity.

To the untrained eye, my daily slumbers and preoccupation with whatever I can eat looks like the usual and expected life of a simple cat. Meanwhile, all along I have been projecting positive vibes through a talent for x-ray vision into the ‘resident scribbler‘, with the added threat of a fury right hook if they deviate from the task of focusing on what is good in life. Now the fruits of my vision are beginning to emerge in the wider world, as my home becomes the studio for one of the latest additions to the world of the podcast. As of 22nd April 2014 The Strengths Revolution weekly podcast show arrived on your world dominating iTunes Store. So now you to can become the recipient of my pearls of wisdom cunningly dispensed through the ‘vacant organism‘ that shares my home. All you need to do is click on:

https://itunes.apple.com/gb/podcast/strengths-revolution-steve/id867043694

Of course, it goes without saying you should then subscribe to this wonderous Ivor Novello distraction, and even leave the occasional review of episodes that blew you away with their subtle wit and wisdom. All of this will be like the NHS, free at the point of need! But, for those of you who like to read

Microphone and cans what you have been listening to, the book will be out on 12th May (‘Working with Strengths’ published by Pavilion Publishing & Media in Brighton)… but there are no current plans for the film just yet.

Until we speak again I am going to purr into my Blue Yeti microphone and don strange cans for the future benefit of you all.

Dreaming of The Hamptons

Posted on April 12, 2014 by Steve Morgan

My ‘surrogate nomad‘ tends to go off on rather strange trips, and thinks it is funny to ask me where I have been immediately when they return home. Even the menacing laser look doesn’t seem to stem the flow of nonsense from the failed comedian…

So, the best I can do is curl up and dream of exotic places based on the incoherent mutterings of the ‘resident worker bee‘ with these destinations attributed to me despite the fact I haven’t left home. Forgive me on this occasion for dreaming of life in The Hamptons… the exclusive summer home of wealthy Manhattan cats amongst others. Exotic food immediately comes to mind, after all what am I supposed to do with this nouveau plastic cuisine?

Meanwhile, my ‘culinary torturer‘ is happily socialising with fabulous company in somewhere called Dangs Vietnamese Restaurant

eating sumptuous salmon complete with green stuff and a side dish of white stuff, and a decorative pineapple (which should be a feast for a more deserving cat stuck here in Guantanamo/Cardiff Bay).

I am dreaming of a dramatic and welcoming skyline…

… but then find I am engaged in a bit of the cognitive dissonance thing, as the best Cardiff can offer is the dreaming spires of the Millenium Stadium:

But this is nothing compared with the reports from the ‘lost wanderer‘ who speaks of such a warm welcome in The Hamptons, only for the dominant vision to be one of a prominent middle finger to the world!

My dream comes to an unexpected close with the realisation that the middle finger is the iconic message from middle England… I had been vaguely remembering that my primary ‘comfort provider‘ had droned on about visits to Southampton in recent months, and was now returning from Northampton… it was all a bit Hamptons-lite in the end!

Until we speak again I intend being an inquisitive Juno, wondering what Northampton has that keeps my so-called ‘intelligent one‘ returning for the last 17 years.

In a parallel universe

Posted on February 8, 2014 by Steve Morgan

I was just contemplating the peace and tranquility of my local area when it was rudely interrupted by one of those rival birds. Those at home around me who would benefit by ‘getting a life’ tell me that the Bluebirds are away to their local rivals, Swansea, today.

So, why are they in my backyard, and trying to recreate the ‘Black Knight’ sketch from Monty Python and the Holy Grail? “Nobody passes by here” was the implication of this creature’s demeanour; and a pretty mean demeanour it struck too.

Being a pacifist cat, I retreated from what would only result in the usual nasty Cardiff – Swansea affair. Personal dignity was my primary concern.

But these swans do not seem to share my more delicate contemplations and meditations on peace and quiet.

“Where are you, I know where you live” were the threat-like remonstrations from my long-necked tormenter.

I reluctantly became drawn into my inquisitor’s more base conduct… “You and who’s army” I enquired, in my politest of tones. But little did I expect the beaky one to bring the whole family in on the altercation…

I was beginning to get the hang of this Mexican standoff routine… “Bring your family, all the more meals for me next week” I retorted. But, in true poker playing style the feathered-one upped the ante with a call to more troops that would have been better deployed at Swansea’s ‘Liberty Stadium’ for the Premier League grudge match:

You can use threats and intimidation as much as you like, but ultimately for us stylish cats it is the elegance of our demeanour that will always triumph… but just occasionally a flash of the gnashers is regrettably required…

… and the swans go diving for cover. Synchronised swans arses can mean only one thing… peace is once again restored in the Juno universe.

As for the match taking place in a parallel universe somewhere out west, serenity has clearly been denied, as my domestic ‘religious correspondent‘ is busy praying, begging, searching for any spare miracles that might have been mislaid in my personal conquest of the white renegade hoards. It is so undignified, but what else can you expect from football fans, particularly those on the end of a 3-0 defeat to their bitterest rivals?

Until we speak again I intend to be imperious Juno, and my household will be a place of merciless mirth-taking with regards to all losers!

[The cat pictures have been borrowed from google images, with special thanks to their originators for providing additional material to illustrate this tale].

Somebody has to…

Posted on January 26, 2014 by Steve Morgan

My ‘religious correspondent‘ has identified a source of tremendous salvation for all of you out there on the eight-lane black top, the car-dominated cities of the world, the highways and the freeways, the motorways and the turnpikes, in your smog and exhaust fume riddled existence… Jesus Loves You!

If you are reading this while driving along a Los Angeles freeway, the likelihood is that you are infringing rather than breaking any laws… as vehicular movement is likely to be minimal. As you glance at the Hollywood sign on the hill you are probably blissfully unaware of Gabalfa. But, as a cat steeped in observation of my surroundings, I can assure you that Gabalfa is the Cardiff based equivalent of your present dilemma. It is a point on the planet where a four-lane flyover intersects with a moment that bridges across the world as a simple dual carriageway spans East and West (as Eastern Avenue becomes Western Avenue, or vice versa depending on your direction of travel). This could quite easily be the Istanbul of Wales if it wasn’t for the complete lack of any culture, intellectual interest or iconic imagery.

I am particularly taken by the other-wordly claws at the bottom of the picture. Either this is the devil’s representative encroaching on the ‘heavenly love‘ bestowed on a bunch of non-descript residences flanking a few hundred metres of boring blacktop; or could it be that a wizzened old Gabalfarian has been religiously press-ganged into making an appearance to support the generosity of the claim made of the bearded one.

The following images are gratefully downloaded from internet sources to illustrate Glorious Gabalfa, and leave you in no doubt or uncertainty about the task faced by the lordly one in his love-spreading endeavours:

Until we speak again I have been your worshipful Juno, forever baffled by the claims attributed to and by religious faiths.

	David on Searching for Lebanon
	Kirt on NOLA: UK-style
	Wanda Rusiecki on Frohe Weihnachten
	Steve Morgan on Turkish delight
	Wanda Rusiecki on Turkish delight

JUNO's VIEW

Seeing Cardiff and the world through the eyes of one cool cat

Category Archives: Cats in Cardiff