The sheer enormity of the circuit took many by surprise. "Bare figures convey no sense of its stupendous size, and words must fail to describe the impression that the finished track creates at first view in its nakedness, one finds no measure of its size", wrote a journalist for "The Motor".
And so it was that motorsport was born in Britain. For 32 glorious years (give or take a stoppage for World War I) Brooklands existed as Britain's finest motor racing circuit and testing venue. As an oval track, the enormous straights and long, high banked corners enabled cars to run flat out, something that was unachievable anywhere else in Europe at the time. Brooklands became the home of Sir Malcolm Campbell's workshops and it was there that he tested his Bluebird Land Speed Record cars (via grandprix.com)Monday, May 31, 2010
Brooklands Racing Circuit
The Uncomfortable Truth of War
Latrine Ditch; Eastern Front; Poland 1915
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Dennis Hopper Gone at 74
Friday, May 28, 2010
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Monday, May 24, 2010
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Sean Connery
Oriana Fallaci: So then, Sean, let’s finish with a little test: the names of three men & three women whom you admire, for whom you feel respect & envy.
Sean Connery: The first is Khrushchev. That sense of humor of his, that appetite for living, that non-conformism. Great man. The second is Stanley Matthews, the soccer player. He’s 51, and still plays soccer. I’d like to be him. The third is Picasso: to me he has the same virtues as Khrushchev.
As for women…let’s see…women…let’s see…odd: you know, I can’t think of a single one? Yet I like them a lot, I respect them, I esteem them, I often find them superior to men. I’m one of those who still find women devilishly attractive, irreplaceable…well, that must be why. I mean that, whenever I see a woman, I can never get away from the sex element. The liking and even the admiration, even the respect, I feel for a woman always has sexual origins. A character like me, who loves life, appetite, and strength, can’t get away from sexual desires. And so, when he stops to assess a woman, he can never make out where that thing finishes and pure admiration begins. Do you see what I mean? Khrushchev doesn’t provoke any sexual desires in me, nor does Matthews, nor does Picasso. With them there isn’t that alarming little complication. Alarming. Isn’t it?
Fallaci: Eh, yes. Alarming.
Connery: In fact, I find women very alarming, very worrying. Always. And picking out one I admire and nothing else…let’s see…yes: Greta Garbo. For her talent, her dignity, her silence. And yet, no, even in her case I can’t get away from the fact that if I’d ever been close to her…well…in short…I’d have been very attracted to her, apart from her talent, her dignity, her silence. So, after all, the choice doesn’t stand. Phew! Tell you what we’ll do: we’ll forget about the women for a moment and take the names of two more men. One is Hitchcock and the other is Noel Coward. And now let’s go and have a beer.
-Paris magazine, March, 1965