Monday, July 31, 2006
I am astoundingly tired. It's this working for a living. Not a good idea. I should stop it as soon as possible.
On Saturday I saw "Renaissance".
"Renaissance" is a French produced animated film, shot in black and white. (I will not call it a cartoon. There are no comedy penguins in this film.) For the English language market it has been dubbed from the original French by very impressive British voice talent. (Daniel Craig, Ian Holm, Jonathan Pryce, etc.) Basically "Renaissance" is a futuristic film noir. A maverick cop (aren't they all?) searches for a missing girl, gets involved with the missing girl's sister and stumbles into a conspiracy involving a sinister corporation. There is an uncompromising Mickey Spillane style ending. How film noir is that?
"Renaissance" is an absolutely astonishingly beautiful looking film, which makes up for some shortcomings in the plot. Run like the wind to see this film, my friends. I thought it was great.
On Sunday I went to see "Stay Alive".
It is shit. Terrible. 85 minutes of my life that I will never get back. My own fault. I read the reviews. I ignored the reviews. I should be spanked severely. (Oooh, err!) I nearly stood up at the end and booed.
Terrible acting, incoherent plotting, etc. The special effects were good, but... let's repeat the mantra again... special effects alone do not a good movie make. "Stay Alive" had the germ of a good idea, but it was wasted.
I have no idea what I am writing anymore. I will add links, correct spelling, etc. tomorrow.
Good night.
On Saturday I saw "Renaissance".
"Renaissance" is a French produced animated film, shot in black and white. (I will not call it a cartoon. There are no comedy penguins in this film.) For the English language market it has been dubbed from the original French by very impressive British voice talent. (Daniel Craig, Ian Holm, Jonathan Pryce, etc.) Basically "Renaissance" is a futuristic film noir. A maverick cop (aren't they all?) searches for a missing girl, gets involved with the missing girl's sister and stumbles into a conspiracy involving a sinister corporation. There is an uncompromising Mickey Spillane style ending. How film noir is that?
"Renaissance" is an absolutely astonishingly beautiful looking film, which makes up for some shortcomings in the plot. Run like the wind to see this film, my friends. I thought it was great.
On Sunday I went to see "Stay Alive".
It is shit. Terrible. 85 minutes of my life that I will never get back. My own fault. I read the reviews. I ignored the reviews. I should be spanked severely. (Oooh, err!) I nearly stood up at the end and booed.
Terrible acting, incoherent plotting, etc. The special effects were good, but... let's repeat the mantra again... special effects alone do not a good movie make. "Stay Alive" had the germ of a good idea, but it was wasted.
I have no idea what I am writing anymore. I will add links, correct spelling, etc. tomorrow.
Good night.
Sunday, July 30, 2006
A man and his dog were walking along a road. The man was enjoying the scenery, when it suddenly occurred to him that he was dead. He remembered dying, and that the dog walking beside him had been dead for years. He wondered where the road was leading them.
After a while, they came to a high, white stone wall along one side of the road. It looked like fine marble. At the top of a long hill, it was broken by a tall arch that glowed in the sunlight. When he was standing before it he saw a magnificent gate in the arch that looked like mother-of-pearl, and the street that led to the gate looked like pure gold.
He and the dog walked toward the gate, and as he got closer, he saw a man at a desk to one side.
When he was close enough, he called out, "Excuse me, where are we?"
"This is Heaven, sir," the man answered.
"Wow! Would you happen to have some water?" the man asked.
"Of course, sir. Come right in, and I'll have some iced water brought right up."
The man gestured, and the gate began to open. "Can my friend," gesturing toward his dog, "come in, too?" the traveler asked.
"I'm sorry, sir, but we don't accept pets."
The man thought a moment and then turned back toward the road and continued the way he had been going with his dog.
After another long walk, and at the top of another long hill, he came to a dirt road leading through a farm gate that looked as if it had never been closed. There was no fence.
As he approached the gate, he saw a man inside, leaning against a tree and reading a book.
"Excuse me!" he called to the man. "Do you have any water?"
"Yeah, sure, there's a pump over there, come on in."
"How about my friend here?" the traveler gestured to the dog.
"There should be a bowl by the pump."
They went through the gate, and sure enough, there was an old-fashioned hand pump with a bowl beside it. The traveler filled the water bowl and took a long drink himself, and then he gave some to the dog. When they were full, he and the dog walked back toward the man who was standing by the tree.
"What do you call this place?" the traveler asked.
"This is Heaven," he answered.
"Well, that's confusing," the traveler said. "The man down the road said that was Heaven, too."
"Oh, you mean the place with the gold street and pearly gates? Nope. That's hell."
"Doesn't it make you mad for them to use your name like that?"
"No, we're just happy that they screen out the folks who would leave their best friends behind."
(Respect to Skywolf for that story.)
I told Lorraine that story yesterday morning when we were at the bus stop, waiting to go to work. My voice cracked on the last line and I burst into tears.
Things can take you by surprise.
In September 3rd this year my Dog will have been gone 11 years. He was 14 years old. The cause of death was officially liver failure and/or old age. To this day I believe that he chose exactly when he was going to die. My Dog had been ill for some time, and my Brother was finally going to take him to the Vet on the Monday to be put to sleep. There was no way I could have done it. My Dog was having none of this nonsense and decided to die on the Sunday morning, surrounded by his family.
I will never have another Dog. He was the best.
I don't feel very much like writing anything else. A report on the couple of films I saw this weekend can wait. I have also been tagged by Daisy Mae for a "What's in my..." thing. Tomorrow.
After a while, they came to a high, white stone wall along one side of the road. It looked like fine marble. At the top of a long hill, it was broken by a tall arch that glowed in the sunlight. When he was standing before it he saw a magnificent gate in the arch that looked like mother-of-pearl, and the street that led to the gate looked like pure gold.
He and the dog walked toward the gate, and as he got closer, he saw a man at a desk to one side.
When he was close enough, he called out, "Excuse me, where are we?"
"This is Heaven, sir," the man answered.
"Wow! Would you happen to have some water?" the man asked.
"Of course, sir. Come right in, and I'll have some iced water brought right up."
The man gestured, and the gate began to open. "Can my friend," gesturing toward his dog, "come in, too?" the traveler asked.
"I'm sorry, sir, but we don't accept pets."
The man thought a moment and then turned back toward the road and continued the way he had been going with his dog.
After another long walk, and at the top of another long hill, he came to a dirt road leading through a farm gate that looked as if it had never been closed. There was no fence.
As he approached the gate, he saw a man inside, leaning against a tree and reading a book.
"Excuse me!" he called to the man. "Do you have any water?"
"Yeah, sure, there's a pump over there, come on in."
"How about my friend here?" the traveler gestured to the dog.
"There should be a bowl by the pump."
They went through the gate, and sure enough, there was an old-fashioned hand pump with a bowl beside it. The traveler filled the water bowl and took a long drink himself, and then he gave some to the dog. When they were full, he and the dog walked back toward the man who was standing by the tree.
"What do you call this place?" the traveler asked.
"This is Heaven," he answered.
"Well, that's confusing," the traveler said. "The man down the road said that was Heaven, too."
"Oh, you mean the place with the gold street and pearly gates? Nope. That's hell."
"Doesn't it make you mad for them to use your name like that?"
"No, we're just happy that they screen out the folks who would leave their best friends behind."
(Respect to Skywolf for that story.)
I told Lorraine that story yesterday morning when we were at the bus stop, waiting to go to work. My voice cracked on the last line and I burst into tears.
Things can take you by surprise.
In September 3rd this year my Dog will have been gone 11 years. He was 14 years old. The cause of death was officially liver failure and/or old age. To this day I believe that he chose exactly when he was going to die. My Dog had been ill for some time, and my Brother was finally going to take him to the Vet on the Monday to be put to sleep. There was no way I could have done it. My Dog was having none of this nonsense and decided to die on the Sunday morning, surrounded by his family.
I will never have another Dog. He was the best.
I don't feel very much like writing anything else. A report on the couple of films I saw this weekend can wait. I have also been tagged by Daisy Mae for a "What's in my..." thing. Tomorrow.
Friday, July 28, 2006
It is 200th post of my current incarnation. Happy Anniversary to me. (Are you supposed to celebrate a 200th post? Maybe. Doesn't matter, does it?)
I had the day off today. For reasons best known to herself, Lorraine ordered some shelving units from Laura Ashley. I don't think that we need more shelving units, but who am I and what has it got to do with me anyway? Oh, yes. It was paid for on the joint credit card. That's where I come into it.
(Actually they are nice units, but I wasn't going to admit that now, was I?)
Anyway...
The order was placed weeks ago. At the time Lorraine specified home delivery and asked them to give us some warning of the day that they were going to deliver, as we do not work at home, and we would have to arrange for somebody to be at the house. They agreed.
Didn't happen.
The unit's were delivered, we were not at home (nor were the neighbours) and the unit's were taken away. Lorraine rings them. Sorry. We do apologise. Blah, blah, blah. We will let you know when they are coming.
Didn't happen. Again.
They try to deliver the unit's again the next day. Same sketch. Lorraine is pissed off. She rings them and talks to a manager. She threatens to hunt them down and kill them. Things are sorted. A day is decided on. Lorraine fixes me with a Margaret Thatcher laser beam stare and tells me that I am having a day off. I love Lorraine when she is red in the face, but not in this context. Scary.
So, today I had the day off. It wasn't too bad. I got up early as the delivery time was potentially as early as 8am. I was most of the way through "Beasts" disk 1 (bloody scary!) when they arrived at 10:30.
So, you might think I had the rest of the day to myself? Bollocks, did I? Well, Lorraine did tell me to go and enjoy myself at the cinema, if there was the time, but I chose not to. Sometimes you have to do the right thing. I have hoovered, I have shopped, I have taken clothes to the dry cleaners, I have ran around like a blue arsed fly. Kind of satisfying, truth be told.
Lorraine will be back from work at any time. I will now start the dinner.
Pynchon, domestic goddess, signing off.
(BTW. I wasn't here last night because we watched John Travolta in "Be Cool" (it had really average reviews when it came out, but I thought it was funny and ironic) and then I watched the BBC Syd Barrett tribute (which appeared to just be the first third of the documentary about Pink Floyd, that was broadcast in 2002). No time for anything else.)
I had the day off today. For reasons best known to herself, Lorraine ordered some shelving units from Laura Ashley. I don't think that we need more shelving units, but who am I and what has it got to do with me anyway? Oh, yes. It was paid for on the joint credit card. That's where I come into it.
(Actually they are nice units, but I wasn't going to admit that now, was I?)
Anyway...
The order was placed weeks ago. At the time Lorraine specified home delivery and asked them to give us some warning of the day that they were going to deliver, as we do not work at home, and we would have to arrange for somebody to be at the house. They agreed.
Didn't happen.
The unit's were delivered, we were not at home (nor were the neighbours) and the unit's were taken away. Lorraine rings them. Sorry. We do apologise. Blah, blah, blah. We will let you know when they are coming.
Didn't happen. Again.
They try to deliver the unit's again the next day. Same sketch. Lorraine is pissed off. She rings them and talks to a manager. She threatens to hunt them down and kill them. Things are sorted. A day is decided on. Lorraine fixes me with a Margaret Thatcher laser beam stare and tells me that I am having a day off. I love Lorraine when she is red in the face, but not in this context. Scary.
So, today I had the day off. It wasn't too bad. I got up early as the delivery time was potentially as early as 8am. I was most of the way through "Beasts" disk 1 (bloody scary!) when they arrived at 10:30.
So, you might think I had the rest of the day to myself? Bollocks, did I? Well, Lorraine did tell me to go and enjoy myself at the cinema, if there was the time, but I chose not to. Sometimes you have to do the right thing. I have hoovered, I have shopped, I have taken clothes to the dry cleaners, I have ran around like a blue arsed fly. Kind of satisfying, truth be told.
Lorraine will be back from work at any time. I will now start the dinner.
Pynchon, domestic goddess, signing off.
(BTW. I wasn't here last night because we watched John Travolta in "Be Cool" (it had really average reviews when it came out, but I thought it was funny and ironic) and then I watched the BBC Syd Barrett tribute (which appeared to just be the first third of the documentary about Pink Floyd, that was broadcast in 2002). No time for anything else.)
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
I wasn't here last night because I was writing. Something just for me. Something that is fictional. Something that is made up. Something that has nothing to do with my life. (Well, maybe a little to do with my life.) Something channeling things I like very much and interests that I have had for a long time.
I'm being mysterious. (Woooooweeee!) Isn't this exciting?
...And, No. I am not going to tell you anything about it. Maybe it will appear one day. Maybe it won't.
I had a chat with Lorraine last night. It went OK. We are not at war. A point has been made and tonight I did 3 days worth of washing up. No deal was made as to what I would require in return for doing the washing up, and I am not expecting anything unsolicited in return. Sometimes these things just have to be done.
We still need to have a big talk.
The second "Lost" on E4 was good last night, wasn't it? Tom Cruise's cousin? Theatrical makeup? Hmm...
I'm being mysterious. (Woooooweeee!) Isn't this exciting?
...And, No. I am not going to tell you anything about it. Maybe it will appear one day. Maybe it won't.
I had a chat with Lorraine last night. It went OK. We are not at war. A point has been made and tonight I did 3 days worth of washing up. No deal was made as to what I would require in return for doing the washing up, and I am not expecting anything unsolicited in return. Sometimes these things just have to be done.
We still need to have a big talk.
The second "Lost" on E4 was good last night, wasn't it? Tom Cruise's cousin? Theatrical makeup? Hmm...
Monday, July 24, 2006
I have a joke for you. It is not politically correct.
--------
Banta Singh from Punjab goes into a brothel in Amsterdam one night and finds himself a prostitute.
He asks her, 'How much do you charge for the hour?'
'£100", replies the Hooker.
Banta asks, 'Okay. Do you do it Indian style?'
The Hooker says, 'No'.
Banta asks her, 'I'll pay you £200 to do it Indian style.'
The Hooker says 'No', not really knowing what Indian style is.
Banta offers the Hooker £300.
Again the Hooker declines his offer.
Finally Banta says, 'I'll give you £500 to go Indian with me!'
The Hooker agrees, thinking to herself, 'Well, I've been on the game for over 10 years. I've been there and done that, had every kind of request from weirdo's from every corner of the world. Just how bad can Indian style be?'
So, the Hooker goes ahead and has sex with Banta, doing it in every kind of way and in every possible position.
Finally, after several intense hours they finish. Exhausted, the Hooker turns to Banta and says, 'That was fantastic. I've never enjoyed sex so much, but I was expecting something perverted and disgusting. Where does the "Indian style" come in?'
Banta replies ......... 'I'll pay you next week'.
--------
The interesting thing about that joke is that it was sent to me, via email, by an Indian guy that I work with. His name is Asif Aslam. He is a nice guy. Incredibly deadpan sense of humour. Asif is Westernised, but is still a very traditional Sikh. Asif is getting married later in the year and is working on a full beard. Apparently it is something that he is expected to wear. (Actually it is a cracking beard. Long and flowing and black. How black? None more black. The last time I grew a beard it turned out grey. Fuck that. Never again.)
Is that joke racist? Does it reinforce racial stereotypes? In this case that Indian's never pay their bills on time? I think that that joke would work perfectly well as an anti-semitic joke. Change Banta Singh to Abraham Cohen, Punjab to Israel and Indian to Jewish. See what I mean?
Is it OK for an Indian to tell that joke, but not somebody who is not Indian?
Did I laugh? Sure I did.
I do not really have anything to write about. It shows doesn't it?
I hit a new low this evening. I made Lorraine an offer. I told her that I would do the washing up all week, regardless of who cooked, if I could have a tit wank this evening. She turned me down. Of course she did. What kind of an offer is that to make to a woman? She said that I seem to think that sex is the only problem we have, when the fact is that our problems go much deeper than that. I asked her elaborate. She declined and went to bed.
The washing up has not been done.
I just want us to be the way that we used to be. Is that wrong?
This is pathetic.
I won't be here tomorrow.
--------
Banta Singh from Punjab goes into a brothel in Amsterdam one night and finds himself a prostitute.
He asks her, 'How much do you charge for the hour?'
'£100", replies the Hooker.
Banta asks, 'Okay. Do you do it Indian style?'
The Hooker says, 'No'.
Banta asks her, 'I'll pay you £200 to do it Indian style.'
The Hooker says 'No', not really knowing what Indian style is.
Banta offers the Hooker £300.
Again the Hooker declines his offer.
Finally Banta says, 'I'll give you £500 to go Indian with me!'
The Hooker agrees, thinking to herself, 'Well, I've been on the game for over 10 years. I've been there and done that, had every kind of request from weirdo's from every corner of the world. Just how bad can Indian style be?'
So, the Hooker goes ahead and has sex with Banta, doing it in every kind of way and in every possible position.
Finally, after several intense hours they finish. Exhausted, the Hooker turns to Banta and says, 'That was fantastic. I've never enjoyed sex so much, but I was expecting something perverted and disgusting. Where does the "Indian style" come in?'
Banta replies ......... 'I'll pay you next week'.
--------
The interesting thing about that joke is that it was sent to me, via email, by an Indian guy that I work with. His name is Asif Aslam. He is a nice guy. Incredibly deadpan sense of humour. Asif is Westernised, but is still a very traditional Sikh. Asif is getting married later in the year and is working on a full beard. Apparently it is something that he is expected to wear. (Actually it is a cracking beard. Long and flowing and black. How black? None more black. The last time I grew a beard it turned out grey. Fuck that. Never again.)
Is that joke racist? Does it reinforce racial stereotypes? In this case that Indian's never pay their bills on time? I think that that joke would work perfectly well as an anti-semitic joke. Change Banta Singh to Abraham Cohen, Punjab to Israel and Indian to Jewish. See what I mean?
Is it OK for an Indian to tell that joke, but not somebody who is not Indian?
Did I laugh? Sure I did.
I do not really have anything to write about. It shows doesn't it?
I hit a new low this evening. I made Lorraine an offer. I told her that I would do the washing up all week, regardless of who cooked, if I could have a tit wank this evening. She turned me down. Of course she did. What kind of an offer is that to make to a woman? She said that I seem to think that sex is the only problem we have, when the fact is that our problems go much deeper than that. I asked her elaborate. She declined and went to bed.
The washing up has not been done.
I just want us to be the way that we used to be. Is that wrong?
This is pathetic.
I won't be here tomorrow.
Sunday, July 23, 2006
Still here. I have been a bit busy.
Friday night I watched the Blondie documentary "One Way Or Another". It was really good and didn't shy away from the seedier elements of their story including drugs, illness, bankruptcy and disgruntled ex-band members. I must say that I really loved the first two Blondie albums. Although the later albums had some good stuff on them, they were not as good as "Blondie" and "Plastic Letters". That is only my opinion. What do I know? The later albums propelled them to being one of the most successful bands in the world during the period 1978-1981.
I was up at 6am on Saturday morning. Insanity. When do I ever see the world at 6am on a Saturday morning, unless I have to? Served it's purpose, though. I wanted to get the shopping done early and get into town to see an early film. I was at the supermarket at 8am and was on the bus home at 9am. Had a cup of tea and some toast and then went into town.
I tangled with a Goth Girl with large breasts who was manning the ticket office at the Symphony Hall. I think that she had been up all night. He eye makeup was bitty and looked like it had been on for several days. She was dressed in black and looked dirty, dishevelled and sweaty. She yawned and fidgeted. She made no effort to hide her annoyance at being bothered by fucking customers. I bared my teeth and was icily polite to her. I paid for the Flaming Lips tickets and purchased two tickets for the Jasper Carrott Christmas show. Goth girl was mightily put out that I wanted to pay for the tickets with two separate credit cards. I did it on purpose.
"Thank yooooou!" I trilled, as I left her window. Fuck you.
To the UGC Cinema on Broad Street. I was served by a beautiful red headed girl (she used to be blonde, but has dyed it). She is always very pleasant to me. (Actually, everybody at UGC Cinemas is nice to me, even the miserable fat old woman, who is sometimes on the front desk, has been recently known to smile at me.) Anyway, red headed doll. Lovely girl, porcelain like skin, lovely hands, efficient and a friendly demeanor. I said that I wanted to see "Stormbreaker". She gave me the ticket.
"Enjoy the film" she said and smiled at me.
I think that I am in love.
(Hell. You know the point that I am trying to make. That is what customer service is all about.)
"Stormbreaker".
It was OK and kind of fun, but like all action films intended for children, "Stormbreaker" was all a bit subdued and mundane, almost as if the filmmakers were not being allowed to let rip for fear of jeopardising a family friendly certificate. Shame, but what I would say is that the fight sequences, choreographed by Donnie Yen, are very good. You really believe that this 14 year old boy is kicking bad guy ass.
They might do a movie of "Point Blanc", but judging by the lack of audience in the showing I attended (11:45am on a Saturday and no more that 8 people in the audience), I would imagine that "Stormbreaker" is already a flop. At least it did not cost too much money. I read that the budget was only £23 million, with all of it being supplied by British investors. Apparently they were offered £100 million by an American studio, on the proviso that Alex Rider be turned into an American schoolboy, but they turned that offer down. Good for them. At least they were true to the material.
I can imagine "Stormbreaker" being the kind of film I would really enjoy watching on a quiet Sunday afternoon at home, but I don't know that it is worth a cinema trip.
After the cinema, it was down to the Hippodrome where I bought tickets for the Christmas panto "Cinderella" starring Brian Conley for 23rd December. I am apparently distantly related to Brian Conley, but I am not sure how or why. I will have to ask my Mom. I have never met the guy.
I went home. Lorraine arrived not long after me. I told her that I had seen "Stormbreaker". She berated me and said that she had wanted to see "Stormbreaker". Bollocks, had she ever said any such thing. I went off to sulk, but happily came bacdownstairs whenen Lorraine presented the chocolate eclairs that she had bought from M&S.
Yesterday evening my Brother and I took my Niece and Nephew to the Midlands heat of the Masters Football tournament at the Birmingham NIA arena. It is a six-a-side Football competition featuring (mainly) retired Footballers over the age of 35 representing the major teams in a particular region. The Midlands heat featured ex players from Villa, Blues, Wolves and the Albion. We went to it last year when the mighty Villa won the heat.
This year Villa lost 2 games and won 1. We came last. Deservedly. We played like a bunch of women. (I am sure that there are many fine female Footballer's out there, but I've never heard of any of them. If you are a follower of women's Football, please send me pictures of their greatest players, preferably taken in thcommunalal bath's at the end of a game.) Wolves beat Blues in the final, so it wasn't a total disaster.
My Niece and Nephew were in "I want..." mode. I want sweets. I want a drink. I want a poster. I want a programme. I want a T-shirt. I want a kick up the backside. I bought sweets and drinks and a programme. As for the rest of the requests, I pleaded poverty and I chose not to supply the kick up the backside. I was franklsurpriseded. Lorraine have taken my Niece and Nephew out a few times and it has gone swimmingly. Last night I could have dumped the pair of them in the canal. I suppose they are getting older. Pushing the limits and all that.
The Masters Fooball even had a bit of Football hooliganism to keep you happy, if you like that kind of thing. There was a Fat Cunt, obviously upset at his own Fat Cuntness and the fact that his team were playing badly (sadly, he may have been a Villa fan), who took a swing at a Blues fan. The whole area was mmediately swamped by stewards, who had no idea how to deal with it. The Fat Cunt was allowed to stay to watch the rest of the game. Pathetic. Shameful. Disgusting. Very uncool. There were a lot of kids iattendance. They shouldn't be seeing that. Fat Cunt should have been turfed out. Football hooligans are so 1970's, aren't they?
Oh, yes. There were cheerleaders on the pitch. Three average looking girls, who called themselves the Rockettes. At one point they were standing quite near to us and one of the girls turned to another of the girls and asked her to check her arse. Her friend did check her arse. There didn't seem to be anything wrong. Then she asked the same of the other girl. The other girl checked her arse. Nothing wrong. Crisis over. The things cheerleaders have to worry about, eh? They should have hired a professional arse checker. It would be a good job, but not as good as personal masseur to Jennifer Connelly.
(Here is a picture of Jennifer Connelly.)
I took the kids home. They asked if they could go again next year. Maybe. It was late. I managed to catch the last bus home. I arrived home at 12:45am, had a cup of tea and a huge bowl of chocolate ice cream, watched the end of Channel 4's "50 Films You Must See Before You Die" and went to bed.
Fuck me, I felt ill this morning. I did not drink any alcohol last night, but I suppose that I did not drink much water either, so I had the headache from hell. I don't suppose that the chocolate ice cream helped any. I had some bananas, bran, milk and several Ibuprofen. I fell asleep on the settee. I woke up at nearly 2pm feeling better. A bit late to go out. Lorraine got me some soup and I did some stuff around the house and now I am here.
Hi!
I am off to cook some food and watch the remake of "Flight Of The Phoenix". Have a nice rest-of-Sunday, all.
Friday night I watched the Blondie documentary "One Way Or Another". It was really good and didn't shy away from the seedier elements of their story including drugs, illness, bankruptcy and disgruntled ex-band members. I must say that I really loved the first two Blondie albums. Although the later albums had some good stuff on them, they were not as good as "Blondie" and "Plastic Letters". That is only my opinion. What do I know? The later albums propelled them to being one of the most successful bands in the world during the period 1978-1981.
I was up at 6am on Saturday morning. Insanity. When do I ever see the world at 6am on a Saturday morning, unless I have to? Served it's purpose, though. I wanted to get the shopping done early and get into town to see an early film. I was at the supermarket at 8am and was on the bus home at 9am. Had a cup of tea and some toast and then went into town.
I tangled with a Goth Girl with large breasts who was manning the ticket office at the Symphony Hall. I think that she had been up all night. He eye makeup was bitty and looked like it had been on for several days. She was dressed in black and looked dirty, dishevelled and sweaty. She yawned and fidgeted. She made no effort to hide her annoyance at being bothered by fucking customers. I bared my teeth and was icily polite to her. I paid for the Flaming Lips tickets and purchased two tickets for the Jasper Carrott Christmas show. Goth girl was mightily put out that I wanted to pay for the tickets with two separate credit cards. I did it on purpose.
"Thank yooooou!" I trilled, as I left her window. Fuck you.
To the UGC Cinema on Broad Street. I was served by a beautiful red headed girl (she used to be blonde, but has dyed it). She is always very pleasant to me. (Actually, everybody at UGC Cinemas is nice to me, even the miserable fat old woman, who is sometimes on the front desk, has been recently known to smile at me.) Anyway, red headed doll. Lovely girl, porcelain like skin, lovely hands, efficient and a friendly demeanor. I said that I wanted to see "Stormbreaker". She gave me the ticket.
"Enjoy the film" she said and smiled at me.
I think that I am in love.
(Hell. You know the point that I am trying to make. That is what customer service is all about.)
"Stormbreaker".
It was OK and kind of fun, but like all action films intended for children, "Stormbreaker" was all a bit subdued and mundane, almost as if the filmmakers were not being allowed to let rip for fear of jeopardising a family friendly certificate. Shame, but what I would say is that the fight sequences, choreographed by Donnie Yen, are very good. You really believe that this 14 year old boy is kicking bad guy ass.
They might do a movie of "Point Blanc", but judging by the lack of audience in the showing I attended (11:45am on a Saturday and no more that 8 people in the audience), I would imagine that "Stormbreaker" is already a flop. At least it did not cost too much money. I read that the budget was only £23 million, with all of it being supplied by British investors. Apparently they were offered £100 million by an American studio, on the proviso that Alex Rider be turned into an American schoolboy, but they turned that offer down. Good for them. At least they were true to the material.
I can imagine "Stormbreaker" being the kind of film I would really enjoy watching on a quiet Sunday afternoon at home, but I don't know that it is worth a cinema trip.
After the cinema, it was down to the Hippodrome where I bought tickets for the Christmas panto "Cinderella" starring Brian Conley for 23rd December. I am apparently distantly related to Brian Conley, but I am not sure how or why. I will have to ask my Mom. I have never met the guy.
I went home. Lorraine arrived not long after me. I told her that I had seen "Stormbreaker". She berated me and said that she had wanted to see "Stormbreaker". Bollocks, had she ever said any such thing. I went off to sulk, but happily came bacdownstairs whenen Lorraine presented the chocolate eclairs that she had bought from M&S.
Yesterday evening my Brother and I took my Niece and Nephew to the Midlands heat of the Masters Football tournament at the Birmingham NIA arena. It is a six-a-side Football competition featuring (mainly) retired Footballers over the age of 35 representing the major teams in a particular region. The Midlands heat featured ex players from Villa, Blues, Wolves and the Albion. We went to it last year when the mighty Villa won the heat.
This year Villa lost 2 games and won 1. We came last. Deservedly. We played like a bunch of women. (I am sure that there are many fine female Footballer's out there, but I've never heard of any of them. If you are a follower of women's Football, please send me pictures of their greatest players, preferably taken in thcommunalal bath's at the end of a game.) Wolves beat Blues in the final, so it wasn't a total disaster.
My Niece and Nephew were in "I want..." mode. I want sweets. I want a drink. I want a poster. I want a programme. I want a T-shirt. I want a kick up the backside. I bought sweets and drinks and a programme. As for the rest of the requests, I pleaded poverty and I chose not to supply the kick up the backside. I was franklsurpriseded. Lorraine have taken my Niece and Nephew out a few times and it has gone swimmingly. Last night I could have dumped the pair of them in the canal. I suppose they are getting older. Pushing the limits and all that.
The Masters Fooball even had a bit of Football hooliganism to keep you happy, if you like that kind of thing. There was a Fat Cunt, obviously upset at his own Fat Cuntness and the fact that his team were playing badly (sadly, he may have been a Villa fan), who took a swing at a Blues fan. The whole area was mmediately swamped by stewards, who had no idea how to deal with it. The Fat Cunt was allowed to stay to watch the rest of the game. Pathetic. Shameful. Disgusting. Very uncool. There were a lot of kids iattendance. They shouldn't be seeing that. Fat Cunt should have been turfed out. Football hooligans are so 1970's, aren't they?
Oh, yes. There were cheerleaders on the pitch. Three average looking girls, who called themselves the Rockettes. At one point they were standing quite near to us and one of the girls turned to another of the girls and asked her to check her arse. Her friend did check her arse. There didn't seem to be anything wrong. Then she asked the same of the other girl. The other girl checked her arse. Nothing wrong. Crisis over. The things cheerleaders have to worry about, eh? They should have hired a professional arse checker. It would be a good job, but not as good as personal masseur to Jennifer Connelly.
(Here is a picture of Jennifer Connelly.)
I took the kids home. They asked if they could go again next year. Maybe. It was late. I managed to catch the last bus home. I arrived home at 12:45am, had a cup of tea and a huge bowl of chocolate ice cream, watched the end of Channel 4's "50 Films You Must See Before You Die" and went to bed.
Fuck me, I felt ill this morning. I did not drink any alcohol last night, but I suppose that I did not drink much water either, so I had the headache from hell. I don't suppose that the chocolate ice cream helped any. I had some bananas, bran, milk and several Ibuprofen. I fell asleep on the settee. I woke up at nearly 2pm feeling better. A bit late to go out. Lorraine got me some soup and I did some stuff around the house and now I am here.
Hi!
I am off to cook some food and watch the remake of "Flight Of The Phoenix". Have a nice rest-of-Sunday, all.
Thursday, July 20, 2006
I really should go to bed. I have had a couple of late nights and it has caught up with me. I am yawning and have a bit of a headache.
I will go in a little while.
This evening Lorraine decided that she wanted to see Andy Abraham live. Andy Abraham came second to Shayne Ward in the "X-Factor" last year. I logged onto the NEC Group website, checked the availability of tickets and... Phew! Only Grand Tier tickets left. Sorry, Andy. Maybe another time. Actually I wouldn't have minded seeing Andy Abraham live (I liked him), but paying nearly thirty quid apiece to sit in the Grand Tier at the Symphony Hall, which is so high you need oxygen and a telescope to see the stage, was a bit much.
Lorraine then decided that the Jasper Carrott Christmas Rock With Laughter show at the NEC would be something she might want to see. (I have been trying to get her to commit to going for weeks.) This year's lineup will be Jasper Carrott, Jimmy Carr, Lenny Henry, Journey South (who came third in the "X-Factor" last year), Suzi Quatro, Roy Wood (Christmas in the UK is not allowed without Roy Wood's biggest hit playing on the radio) and other people that escape my mind at the moment. Same routine. Logged onto the NEC Group website, checked the ticket availability (front row in block G - that'll do, thank you very much), tried to order and... Pow... 'An error has occurred. Your order has not gone through. Please contact the NEC Box Office'. Bollocks to that. I will order from the Symphony Hall or the NIA on Saturday.
It could be busy between now and Christmas.
I am going to see the Flaming Lips and am thinking of going to see the Icicle Works, the Cult, the Complete Stone Roses and the Bootleg Beatles. Sadly, Lorraine has no interest in seeing any of them. She hates the NIA and she double hates the Birmingham Carling Academy. On top of that we need to sort out a trip to London during my birthday week to see something in the West End, a trip to London for my Niece and Nephew around Christmas (we promised them last year that we would take them to Hamley's) and a trip to the panto in Birmingham just before Christmas.
No time. No time at all.
Need to go. Sleep. Beautiful sleep.
I will go in a little while.
This evening Lorraine decided that she wanted to see Andy Abraham live. Andy Abraham came second to Shayne Ward in the "X-Factor" last year. I logged onto the NEC Group website, checked the availability of tickets and... Phew! Only Grand Tier tickets left. Sorry, Andy. Maybe another time. Actually I wouldn't have minded seeing Andy Abraham live (I liked him), but paying nearly thirty quid apiece to sit in the Grand Tier at the Symphony Hall, which is so high you need oxygen and a telescope to see the stage, was a bit much.
Lorraine then decided that the Jasper Carrott Christmas Rock With Laughter show at the NEC would be something she might want to see. (I have been trying to get her to commit to going for weeks.) This year's lineup will be Jasper Carrott, Jimmy Carr, Lenny Henry, Journey South (who came third in the "X-Factor" last year), Suzi Quatro, Roy Wood (Christmas in the UK is not allowed without Roy Wood's biggest hit playing on the radio) and other people that escape my mind at the moment. Same routine. Logged onto the NEC Group website, checked the ticket availability (front row in block G - that'll do, thank you very much), tried to order and... Pow... 'An error has occurred. Your order has not gone through. Please contact the NEC Box Office'. Bollocks to that. I will order from the Symphony Hall or the NIA on Saturday.
It could be busy between now and Christmas.
I am going to see the Flaming Lips and am thinking of going to see the Icicle Works, the Cult, the Complete Stone Roses and the Bootleg Beatles. Sadly, Lorraine has no interest in seeing any of them. She hates the NIA and she double hates the Birmingham Carling Academy. On top of that we need to sort out a trip to London during my birthday week to see something in the West End, a trip to London for my Niece and Nephew around Christmas (we promised them last year that we would take them to Hamley's) and a trip to the panto in Birmingham just before Christmas.
No time. No time at all.
Need to go. Sleep. Beautiful sleep.
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
I gave the computer a break last night. You know how it goes...
Lorraine left work early. When I got home, the dinner was on the table. It was lamb and vegetables. Very nice. I enjoyed that.
Next, Lorraine bought out the raspberry bakewell tart/cake thing. It was covered in vanilla ice cream. Again, very nice. I enjoyed that as well.
Next, we watched "Constantine" on Sky Movies. Strangely enough it has become one of those films that gets better with each viewing. Lorraine is adamant that "Constantine" is not a horror film. I think that it is, although it is not a hardcore horror film. Lorraine is adamant that she will not, under any circumstances, watch horror films. I asked Lorraine to explain how "Constantine" is not a horror film. She said that I was "Too stupid to understand". Charming.
Ever noticed that Rachel Weisz has fabulous eyebrows, darling? (Sorry. Gay moment, there.)
Next, I watched the "Lost" double bill. Half the fun in watching "Lost" is the Wednesday morning briefing session from my friend at work, Joey Lipps. Joey knows somebody high up in Disney. He had all of the episodes on DVD before the series had finished being broadcast in the states. He says to me things like, "Did you notice the logo on the film that Sayid was watching?", or, "Who was that in the picture that the sergeant was carrying?" and if I don't have an answer to hand, he gives it to me and then elaborates on his current theory as to what the hell is going on. Joey is a great guy. He is so enthusiastic.
Next... Er... I went to bed.
Nothing else...
Er...
I watch the news sometimes.
Farewell to Mickey Spillane. If Raymond Chandler and Dashell Hammett were prime steak, Mickey Spillane was a hamburger. Nothing wrong with a hamburger, sometimes. I liked the Mike Hammer novels for what they were. Violent, sexy, hard boiled thrillers. Robert Aldrich's adaptation of Spillane's "Kiss Me Deadly" is one of the greatest films, of any genre, of all time. Check it out. You'll like it.
President George Bush uses veto on stem cell bill. What an arsehole! I truly believe that science will either save or destroy the world, but it must be given the chance. Bill Frist, who is the Republican leader of the Senate, and a possible Presidential candidate in 2008, said in part, "I am pro-life, but I disagree with the president's decision. Given the potential of this research and the limitations of the existing lines eligible for federally funded research, I think additional lines should be made available." He is a Republican, but he is right.
Channel 4 Wank-a-thon! Hmm... I suppose that if you are happy to go into a hall with a couple of hundred other people (men and women) and have a wank, with Channel 4 filming you for a documentary, then good for you. But it's hard (oooh, err - sorry) to know who exactly is going to benefit from this? Channel 4 will get some notoriety, and possibly good ratings when the documentary is broadcast, but I cannot see that they will be allowed to show uncut footage, so isn't it basically pointless? Wouldn't the core audience be happier with a porn video? There will apparently be prizes for the most orgasms and the longest wank without... ahem... finishing. What I want to know is, will porn actors be banned? We need to be told!
David O'Leary leaves Aston Villa by mutual consent. He lost the fans and the dressing room months ago. Frankly it is about bloody time he left. To replace him? Alan Curbishley? Sam Alladyce? David Platt? I would love that.
Hottest July day of all time in the UK. I went for a walk at lunchtime. Very nice. I especially enjoyed the view of the half naked ladies walking about. What did you expect from me? A serious comment?
That's enough news. I have Flaming Lips tickets to purchase.
Lorraine left work early. When I got home, the dinner was on the table. It was lamb and vegetables. Very nice. I enjoyed that.
Next, Lorraine bought out the raspberry bakewell tart/cake thing. It was covered in vanilla ice cream. Again, very nice. I enjoyed that as well.
Next, we watched "Constantine" on Sky Movies. Strangely enough it has become one of those films that gets better with each viewing. Lorraine is adamant that "Constantine" is not a horror film. I think that it is, although it is not a hardcore horror film. Lorraine is adamant that she will not, under any circumstances, watch horror films. I asked Lorraine to explain how "Constantine" is not a horror film. She said that I was "Too stupid to understand". Charming.
Ever noticed that Rachel Weisz has fabulous eyebrows, darling? (Sorry. Gay moment, there.)
Next, I watched the "Lost" double bill. Half the fun in watching "Lost" is the Wednesday morning briefing session from my friend at work, Joey Lipps. Joey knows somebody high up in Disney. He had all of the episodes on DVD before the series had finished being broadcast in the states. He says to me things like, "Did you notice the logo on the film that Sayid was watching?", or, "Who was that in the picture that the sergeant was carrying?" and if I don't have an answer to hand, he gives it to me and then elaborates on his current theory as to what the hell is going on. Joey is a great guy. He is so enthusiastic.
Next... Er... I went to bed.
Nothing else...
Er...
I watch the news sometimes.
Farewell to Mickey Spillane. If Raymond Chandler and Dashell Hammett were prime steak, Mickey Spillane was a hamburger. Nothing wrong with a hamburger, sometimes. I liked the Mike Hammer novels for what they were. Violent, sexy, hard boiled thrillers. Robert Aldrich's adaptation of Spillane's "Kiss Me Deadly" is one of the greatest films, of any genre, of all time. Check it out. You'll like it.
President George Bush uses veto on stem cell bill. What an arsehole! I truly believe that science will either save or destroy the world, but it must be given the chance. Bill Frist, who is the Republican leader of the Senate, and a possible Presidential candidate in 2008, said in part, "I am pro-life, but I disagree with the president's decision. Given the potential of this research and the limitations of the existing lines eligible for federally funded research, I think additional lines should be made available." He is a Republican, but he is right.
Channel 4 Wank-a-thon! Hmm... I suppose that if you are happy to go into a hall with a couple of hundred other people (men and women) and have a wank, with Channel 4 filming you for a documentary, then good for you. But it's hard (oooh, err - sorry) to know who exactly is going to benefit from this? Channel 4 will get some notoriety, and possibly good ratings when the documentary is broadcast, but I cannot see that they will be allowed to show uncut footage, so isn't it basically pointless? Wouldn't the core audience be happier with a porn video? There will apparently be prizes for the most orgasms and the longest wank without... ahem... finishing. What I want to know is, will porn actors be banned? We need to be told!
David O'Leary leaves Aston Villa by mutual consent. He lost the fans and the dressing room months ago. Frankly it is about bloody time he left. To replace him? Alan Curbishley? Sam Alladyce? David Platt? I would love that.
Hottest July day of all time in the UK. I went for a walk at lunchtime. Very nice. I especially enjoyed the view of the half naked ladies walking about. What did you expect from me? A serious comment?
That's enough news. I have Flaming Lips tickets to purchase.
Monday, July 17, 2006
Not a lot happening.
Lorraine is OK.
I am OK.
Did I mention that I came back from the cinema yesterday with a headache? Well, I did. I think it was the heat, too much sunshine and the fact that I was dehydrated because I didn't drink enough. I don't mind the nice weather, but it is such a pain in the arse. I am from Birmingham. We are supposed to be miserable and cold. I heard on GMTV that tomorrow might be the hottest July day that Britain has ever seen. Oh, joy.
It was the second day in a row that I came back from the cinema with a headache. Lorraine nags me daily to put on some sunscreen greasy filth, or to put a hat on over my solar-panel-for-a-sex-machine (AKA My Bald Spot), but I never do. Would Keith Richards put on sunscreen? Would Iggy Pop? Keith Moon? No.
Rock 'n' Roll!
Back to the headache. As I was obviously dying, I did the whole diva dying swan thing and flopped onto the settee, leaving Lorraine to do the dinner. I recovered sufficiently to eat a little bit. Lorraine then tortured me by putting on the Mel Gibson chick flick "What Women Want". Actually, I didn't think it was that bad (which in itself proves that I was very sick last night).
Oh, yes. My job is changing. The volume of work I have to deal with has decreased dramatically over the past 3 months. The Company have to decide what to do with me. (Kick the cunt out!) Luckily Lorraine is my boss and she has some mad plan to get me working with Bill Broad on the new product; investigating bugs, documenting them, liasing with and taking the piss out of the bunch of gormless Orcs that we call the programming team. She says that I will be happier in that role, being inflexible Pynchon and pointing out which bits of the software that are shit. (There is a lot of work to do in that role).
Happier. I would love to be happier. Wouldn't we all?
Lorraine is OK.
I am OK.
Did I mention that I came back from the cinema yesterday with a headache? Well, I did. I think it was the heat, too much sunshine and the fact that I was dehydrated because I didn't drink enough. I don't mind the nice weather, but it is such a pain in the arse. I am from Birmingham. We are supposed to be miserable and cold. I heard on GMTV that tomorrow might be the hottest July day that Britain has ever seen. Oh, joy.
It was the second day in a row that I came back from the cinema with a headache. Lorraine nags me daily to put on some sunscreen greasy filth, or to put a hat on over my solar-panel-for-a-sex-machine (AKA My Bald Spot), but I never do. Would Keith Richards put on sunscreen? Would Iggy Pop? Keith Moon? No.
Rock 'n' Roll!
Back to the headache. As I was obviously dying, I did the whole diva dying swan thing and flopped onto the settee, leaving Lorraine to do the dinner. I recovered sufficiently to eat a little bit. Lorraine then tortured me by putting on the Mel Gibson chick flick "What Women Want". Actually, I didn't think it was that bad (which in itself proves that I was very sick last night).
Oh, yes. My job is changing. The volume of work I have to deal with has decreased dramatically over the past 3 months. The Company have to decide what to do with me. (Kick the cunt out!) Luckily Lorraine is my boss and she has some mad plan to get me working with Bill Broad on the new product; investigating bugs, documenting them, liasing with and taking the piss out of the bunch of gormless Orcs that we call the programming team. She says that I will be happier in that role, being inflexible Pynchon and pointing out which bits of the software that are shit. (There is a lot of work to do in that role).
Happier. I would love to be happier. Wouldn't we all?
Sunday, July 16, 2006
I suppose that it is time to get back to mundane things. Lorraine said that all I care about is going to the cinema. I don't know what the problem is. I always ask her what she wants to do. I always suggest the cinema, but I am open for any good idea. She just doesn't want to do anything with me. I'll even go to see that "Pirates" crap with her, if she wants.
I never did write about "Pretty Persuasion", did I? I can remedy that now.
I thought that "Pretty Persuasion" was really good. I enjoyed it tremendously. Brilliant performance by Evan Rachel Wood, who is definitely a name for the future. (If you are interested, check out "Thirteen". She was great in that. I also heard that she was great in "Down In The Valley", but I think that I probably missed that film at the cinema, now.) She has a close up at the end, when all of the acting is with her eyes, when (I think) she realises everything she has done, how far she has degraded herself and for what. Brilliant.) What I would say, though, is that although it is a razor sharp and incisive satire, it's hard to escape the feeling that it had all been done before. I don't have the right choice of words, but "Pretty Persuasion" was like a sexed up mix of "Mean Girls", "Election" and even "To Die For". ("Pretty Persuasion" would have made a great porno, if you are into that kind of thing.) Good film. I would recommend it.
Yesterday I saw "District B13".
Remember those BBC adverts a few years ago where you had a guy waking up, leaving his bedroom via the window, jumping slowly from rooftop to rooftop, accompanied by some cool jazz? You do? Well, imagine that, done at speed, being shot at and attacked, accompanied by a rock/hip hop soundtrack. That was "District B13".
There were two Asian teenagers in the toilet after the film, having a wee (as you do). One said to the other.
"That was bogus, man!"
"Yeah, an it was French, init!"
Ah, God bless you kids and your crazy, hip slang! I think the one was saying that "District B13" was good and the other one was saying that it was surprising, as it was a French film.
Actually, "District B13" is mostly really good. "District B13" has some absolutely adrenalised action sequences and the most incredible physical stunts and they look like they were done for real. Totally gobsmacking (think "Ong-Bak") and frankly "District B13" gives any action film released this year by any of the major studios a run for their money. Criticisms? There is a clumsy and simplistic moral message to the movie (basically, scum have rights too), but it can be forgiven as it is no worse than your average Jackie Chan movie.
And yes, it is French. With subtitles. There was no French dialogue in the trailer that I saw. A cunning plot to lure in your average chav. There were a few distressed teenagers in the audience of the showing that I attended, but everybody stayed to watch the film. Culture. Chav's like it, given the chance.
Today I saw "Superman Returns".
Oh, dear... I thought that it was rubbish.
No, that is a knee jerk reaction. I thought that Brandon Routh and Kate Bosworth were fine. I thought that Kevin Spacey was better than fine. I thought that the shuttle disaster set piece was fantastic, exciting and thrilling. I thought that the film looked great and that the special effects were top notch.
But... "Superman Returns" is boring. It is slow, and even though the filmmakers labour the point about the Superman/Lois Lane backstory (when what we really want is more Lex Luthor doing bad things or Superman doing... er... super things), it is an emotional vacuum. I honestly didn't give a damn about what happened to anybody or anything in the film. Such a shame. I was really looking forward to "Superman Returns".
Oh, well. Roll on "Stormbreaker" . (Out next week, guys!)
I'm writing really badly at the moment. I know it. Go and read something else. I have things on my mind.
I never did write about "Pretty Persuasion", did I? I can remedy that now.
I thought that "Pretty Persuasion" was really good. I enjoyed it tremendously. Brilliant performance by Evan Rachel Wood, who is definitely a name for the future. (If you are interested, check out "Thirteen". She was great in that. I also heard that she was great in "Down In The Valley", but I think that I probably missed that film at the cinema, now.) She has a close up at the end, when all of the acting is with her eyes, when (I think) she realises everything she has done, how far she has degraded herself and for what. Brilliant.) What I would say, though, is that although it is a razor sharp and incisive satire, it's hard to escape the feeling that it had all been done before. I don't have the right choice of words, but "Pretty Persuasion" was like a sexed up mix of "Mean Girls", "Election" and even "To Die For". ("Pretty Persuasion" would have made a great porno, if you are into that kind of thing.) Good film. I would recommend it.
Yesterday I saw "District B13".
Remember those BBC adverts a few years ago where you had a guy waking up, leaving his bedroom via the window, jumping slowly from rooftop to rooftop, accompanied by some cool jazz? You do? Well, imagine that, done at speed, being shot at and attacked, accompanied by a rock/hip hop soundtrack. That was "District B13".
There were two Asian teenagers in the toilet after the film, having a wee (as you do). One said to the other.
"That was bogus, man!"
"Yeah, an it was French, init!"
Ah, God bless you kids and your crazy, hip slang! I think the one was saying that "District B13" was good and the other one was saying that it was surprising, as it was a French film.
Actually, "District B13" is mostly really good. "District B13" has some absolutely adrenalised action sequences and the most incredible physical stunts and they look like they were done for real. Totally gobsmacking (think "Ong-Bak") and frankly "District B13" gives any action film released this year by any of the major studios a run for their money. Criticisms? There is a clumsy and simplistic moral message to the movie (basically, scum have rights too), but it can be forgiven as it is no worse than your average Jackie Chan movie.
And yes, it is French. With subtitles. There was no French dialogue in the trailer that I saw. A cunning plot to lure in your average chav. There were a few distressed teenagers in the audience of the showing that I attended, but everybody stayed to watch the film. Culture. Chav's like it, given the chance.
Today I saw "Superman Returns".
Oh, dear... I thought that it was rubbish.
No, that is a knee jerk reaction. I thought that Brandon Routh and Kate Bosworth were fine. I thought that Kevin Spacey was better than fine. I thought that the shuttle disaster set piece was fantastic, exciting and thrilling. I thought that the film looked great and that the special effects were top notch.
But... "Superman Returns" is boring. It is slow, and even though the filmmakers labour the point about the Superman/Lois Lane backstory (when what we really want is more Lex Luthor doing bad things or Superman doing... er... super things), it is an emotional vacuum. I honestly didn't give a damn about what happened to anybody or anything in the film. Such a shame. I was really looking forward to "Superman Returns".
Oh, well. Roll on "Stormbreaker" . (Out next week, guys!)
I'm writing really badly at the moment. I know it. Go and read something else. I have things on my mind.
Saturday, July 15, 2006
... And now the fucking thing is playing "To The End" by Blur, which is a very fine song, but not what I want to hear right now.
I am going to bed.
I am going to bed.
It's shaping up to be a couple of hours of quiet depression. I'm playing music very loud on my MP3 player on shuffle. So far I've had
"All The Young Dudes" by Mott The Hoople
"Hurt" by Johnny Cash
"Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word" by Elton John
"I Wanna Be Adored" by the Stone Roses
"Sleeping Pills" by Suede
Music affects me. Somebody up there is having a laugh. I am wondering where this is going.
Today I flirted outrageously with Sandy Trout. Lorraine was not 20 feet away from me when this was going on, and I knew it, but I did it anyway. Sandy is a lovely girl. Smart, blonde, beautiful. A big Crowded House fan, if I remember rightly. She is also married. I know her hubbie Jack. He used to work at The Company. He is one of the good guys. Sandy handled me well. Laughed at my jokes, smiled and sent me on my way. Of course. I have a feeling that she might know about this blog. (If you do, Hi there Sandy!) We have had a heart to heart before, when both pissed at some Company do or other.
Sandy is OK.
Lorraine and I are not talking. Today I said to her that I wished I had somebody to talk to. Lorraine also said that she wished that I had someone to talk to, as I never shut up. We share a bed, but it is used for nothing but sleeping. She is not interested in sex. Shame that, because I am interested and it is her that I am interested in having sex with. I don't want to be satisfied with her giving me the occasional hand job anymore.
Bit blunt that. True, though.
I can stay up late. Lorraine is going into work tomorrow and I have nothing planned. I am going to have another drink.
"All The Young Dudes" by Mott The Hoople
"Hurt" by Johnny Cash
"Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word" by Elton John
"I Wanna Be Adored" by the Stone Roses
"Sleeping Pills" by Suede
Music affects me. Somebody up there is having a laugh. I am wondering where this is going.
Today I flirted outrageously with Sandy Trout. Lorraine was not 20 feet away from me when this was going on, and I knew it, but I did it anyway. Sandy is a lovely girl. Smart, blonde, beautiful. A big Crowded House fan, if I remember rightly. She is also married. I know her hubbie Jack. He used to work at The Company. He is one of the good guys. Sandy handled me well. Laughed at my jokes, smiled and sent me on my way. Of course. I have a feeling that she might know about this blog. (If you do, Hi there Sandy!) We have had a heart to heart before, when both pissed at some Company do or other.
Sandy is OK.
Lorraine and I are not talking. Today I said to her that I wished I had somebody to talk to. Lorraine also said that she wished that I had someone to talk to, as I never shut up. We share a bed, but it is used for nothing but sleeping. She is not interested in sex. Shame that, because I am interested and it is her that I am interested in having sex with. I don't want to be satisfied with her giving me the occasional hand job anymore.
Bit blunt that. True, though.
I can stay up late. Lorraine is going into work tomorrow and I have nothing planned. I am going to have another drink.
Thursday, July 13, 2006
I did intend to do this last night, but I developed a headache, and once the lights started going off in front of my eyes, I figured that going onto the computer was not the best of ideas.
Still... I am here now. And I had time to think of what I wanted to write.
Pink Floyd and Fleetwood Mac have always been linked together in my mind. Not musically, because they were very different, but because they shared a similar situation. Both bands had early success, lead by charismatic singer/songwriter/guitarist's. Both bands lost their leaders' due to the influence of drugs and/or mental illness, although it is arguable that their intense drug use only aggravated mental instability already existing in those guys. Pink Floyd and Fleetwood Mac went onto massive success without their original leaders.
Peter Green made sporadic recordings in the 70's and 80's and, I believe, made a proper comeback in the mid 90's with Peter Green & the Splinter Group. He plays. I don't know if he writes. Maybe one day I will get to see him. That would be interesting.
Syd Barrett never came back. There was nothing after the early 70's. He did not release new material in the mid to late 70's, the 80's, the 90's or the 00's. He did not tour. He did not play any festivals. He did not crack America. He did not make the cover of the N.M.E., Melody Maker or Rolling Stone, when promoting a new record, or be interviewed by Paul Gambacinni, Johnny Walker or Bob Harris. He did not appear on "The Old Grey Whistle Test". He did not face the challenge of the New Wave in 1976/77. He did not make videos. We did not see Barrett at "Live Aid" or "Live 8". He did not curate the Meltdown festival or oversee the remastering of "The Best Of Syd Barrett".
... And that makes me really sad, because he really was a great talent and did not have the career that he should have had. What are we left with? Those two great psychedelic pop singles "Arnold Layne" and "See Emily Play", that brilliant first Floyd album "The Piper At The Gates Of Dawn", a couple of interesting solo albums "The Madcap Laughs" and "Barrett" and bootlegs.
There could have been more.
If Syd had stayed with the Floyd? Maybe Roger Waters would never have started writing seriously and "Dark Side Of The Moon", "Wish You Were Here" and "The Wall" would never have happened? There might have been great records, but not those great records. Would we have even have heard of Dave Gilmour? The Floyd might never have hired him. Maybe Syd would have gotten his way and hired backing musicians, female singers and saxophone players? He apparently wanted to do that.
If Syd had made a success of a solo career? Maybe he would have become David Bowie? Changing and altering and never making the same record twice. I have read in many an obituary that Syd got bored quickly. Maybe there would have been a rivalry between the Floyd and Syd throughout the 70's. They kicked him out of his own band. He might have had something to say about that.
If Syd had had success with a new band? He formed a short lived outfit called Stars with Twink, from the Pink Fairies, and somebody called Jack Monck. What might they have come up with? Perhaps they would have competed with the progressive crowd? The Floyd, Jethro Tull, Genesis, et al?
Ah... Speculation... Serves no purpose, does it?
RIP Syd. I liked you a lot.
Still... I am here now. And I had time to think of what I wanted to write.
Pink Floyd and Fleetwood Mac have always been linked together in my mind. Not musically, because they were very different, but because they shared a similar situation. Both bands had early success, lead by charismatic singer/songwriter/guitarist's. Both bands lost their leaders' due to the influence of drugs and/or mental illness, although it is arguable that their intense drug use only aggravated mental instability already existing in those guys. Pink Floyd and Fleetwood Mac went onto massive success without their original leaders.
Peter Green made sporadic recordings in the 70's and 80's and, I believe, made a proper comeback in the mid 90's with Peter Green & the Splinter Group. He plays. I don't know if he writes. Maybe one day I will get to see him. That would be interesting.
Syd Barrett never came back. There was nothing after the early 70's. He did not release new material in the mid to late 70's, the 80's, the 90's or the 00's. He did not tour. He did not play any festivals. He did not crack America. He did not make the cover of the N.M.E., Melody Maker or Rolling Stone, when promoting a new record, or be interviewed by Paul Gambacinni, Johnny Walker or Bob Harris. He did not appear on "The Old Grey Whistle Test". He did not face the challenge of the New Wave in 1976/77. He did not make videos. We did not see Barrett at "Live Aid" or "Live 8". He did not curate the Meltdown festival or oversee the remastering of "The Best Of Syd Barrett".
... And that makes me really sad, because he really was a great talent and did not have the career that he should have had. What are we left with? Those two great psychedelic pop singles "Arnold Layne" and "See Emily Play", that brilliant first Floyd album "The Piper At The Gates Of Dawn", a couple of interesting solo albums "The Madcap Laughs" and "Barrett" and bootlegs.
There could have been more.
If Syd had stayed with the Floyd? Maybe Roger Waters would never have started writing seriously and "Dark Side Of The Moon", "Wish You Were Here" and "The Wall" would never have happened? There might have been great records, but not those great records. Would we have even have heard of Dave Gilmour? The Floyd might never have hired him. Maybe Syd would have gotten his way and hired backing musicians, female singers and saxophone players? He apparently wanted to do that.
If Syd had made a success of a solo career? Maybe he would have become David Bowie? Changing and altering and never making the same record twice. I have read in many an obituary that Syd got bored quickly. Maybe there would have been a rivalry between the Floyd and Syd throughout the 70's. They kicked him out of his own band. He might have had something to say about that.
If Syd had had success with a new band? He formed a short lived outfit called Stars with Twink, from the Pink Fairies, and somebody called Jack Monck. What might they have come up with? Perhaps they would have competed with the progressive crowd? The Floyd, Jethro Tull, Genesis, et al?
Ah... Speculation... Serves no purpose, does it?
RIP Syd. I liked you a lot.
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
I've worked out that I have about 4 minutes to write about "Pretty Persuasion". Obviously it ain't gonna happen.
Is there anything on TV tomorrow? ("C. S. I. Crime Scene Investigation" and "Lost" are on in a couple of minutes.)
(Has a look.)
No. Good. "Pretty Persuasion" it is tomorrow.
Time to make a cup of tea.
Is there anything on TV tomorrow? ("C. S. I. Crime Scene Investigation" and "Lost" are on in a couple of minutes.)
(Has a look.)
No. Good. "Pretty Persuasion" it is tomorrow.
Time to make a cup of tea.
Monday, July 10, 2006
My review of the CD that Ka sent to me as part of Swiss Toni's shuffleathon is finally finished. Ka called it "Kamusique". I liked that.
Read on kids.
1. "I Am What I Am" by... Actually I don't know. Ka didn't say. Gloria Gaynor?
It's a gay classic and it's a great track. HI-NRG disco and proven to be good for your health. I admit that I had a little bop to this. Last Christmas I saw the great John Barrowman (Captain Jack Harkness in "Doctor Who") perform this song when he was Elaine Paige's special guest at the gig we went to last Christmas. He said that it was his "statement of intent" from when he first started in the business of show. Not bad as a "statement of intent". Very good.
2. "Why Must The Show Go On" by Noel Coward.
Ah... The Master. Playwright, actor, singer, songwriter, English icon and, lest we forget, Mr. Bridger in the original "The Italian Job" and the man who turned down the part of Dr. No in... er... "Dr. No" with the words, "Doctor No? No! No! No!" This is a brilliant track. A call to arms to not bother, give up, walk away, stop trying, surrender, stop giving a shit (although Coward phrases it slightly more tastefully). I liked this a lot. Brilliant.
3. "Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps" by Lila Downs.
Never heard of this artist, but the song is very familiar. You will probably have heard the version by Doris Day. How would I categorise this track? Spanish, Meso-American? It is sung in English and Spanish. I don't know. It's not the kind of thing I would probably ever buy, but it is good and is beautifully orchestrated and beautifully sung by the lady.
4. "You're The One That I Want" by The Beautiful South.
Light years away from the John Travolta/Olivia Neutron-Bomb version. (Was this from The Beautiful South's album of cover versions?) Stripped down, slowed down, string driven, seductive and hardly recognisable as the same song. I have seen The Beautiful South twice in concert. At Aston Villa Leisure Centre they were terrific (and finished the gig with the disco classic "Use It Up And Wear It Out"). At the Birmingham NEC I nearly slipped into a coma as they were so boring (although when the guitarist fell down the stairs at the end and broke his hand - that was exciting!) I have also never seen a band smoke as many cigarettes onstage as The Beautiful South do.
5. "One Day I Will Walk" by K. D. Lang.
I know of K. D. Lang (started off in New Country, adrogynous image, came out, crossed over into mainstream pop - is that accurate?), but I don't know much about her work. I did like "Constant Craving" and "Summer Fling". Didn't she also do a duet of "Crying" with the late Roy Orbison? Sadly I think that this is a bit of a dirge. K. D. Lang does have a lovely voice though.
6. "I Know Where I've Been" from the "Hairspray" musical. I don't know who the artist is.
I have seen the original movie, but have never seen the stage musical. (They are planning a movie of the stage musical starring John Travolta in the part that Divine played in the original movie. Fucking hell! I thought that Scientologists weren't supposed to have a sense of humour?) I suppose that you could call this faux gospel. It has to be faux because isn't the musical supposed to be pretty dayglow? This song is not remotely dayglow. I suppose it is OK. Gospel isn't really my bag.
7. "Last Saskatchewan Pirate" by Captain Tractor.
Think the Sex Pistols dreadful "Frigging In The Riggin" crossed with something by the Pogues. I could imagine singing this with a pint in my hand. It's fun. Nothing more and nothing less. I bet that this would go down a storm live.
8. "Hertha Strubb" by The Tiger Lillies.
Gay cabaret. Nothing wrong with that, but British viewers listening to this may experience bad memories of the dreadful duo Hinge and Brackett, who failed to make us laugh on many a occasion. Sorry. It's terrible. I will have to put a voodoo on it so that it can never be played again.
9. "Flower's Grave" by Tom Waits.
Another dirge... but it's good. In fact, it's very good. In fact, it's brilliant. I do not own a single recording by Tom Waits (I don't buy a lot of records, full stop), but I love him for his uniqueness, his strangeness and his melancholy. Nobody sounds like Tom Waits. He sounds like he has a world of hurt on his shoulders and sings it like he's lived it and he means it. I love it. Great track.
10. "Midnight Train To Georgia" by The Indigo Girls.
Very familiar song. One of Gladys Knight's greatest hits. (I saw her perform this in Las Vegas in September 2002). The thing I have always loved about this song is the snapshot it presents of the perils of L.A., where "dreams don't always come true". In that way it is a good companion song to "Do You Know The Way To San Jose?" by Dionne Warwick. I don't know anything about the Indigo Girls, but this is a really good version of "Midnight Train To Georgia".
11. "Viva Forever" by The Spice Girls.
When the Spice Girls first appeared I categorised them to Sister 1 as A Singer (Mel C), A Pair Of Tits (Geri), Jailbait (Emma), Token Black (Mel B) and A Pair Of Legs (Victoria). Really unfair to the most successful all female group to ever come out of the UK. Yes? Unless my memory fails me, wasn't this the last song recorded by the band before Geri walked out in 1998? They were never the same after that. (Geri leaving robbed them of their heart, their soul and their sense of fun.) I really liked the Spice Girls. They were brilliant and a breath of fresh air. I can't speak about their albums, but they did not put a foot wrong with their singles (except "Mama" which was shit). I love this song. I love the harmonies. It's a good song as well.
12. "Today I Sing The Blues" by Aretha Franklin.
"Respect" is great, "Say A Little Prayer" is great, "You Make Me Feel Like A Natural Woman" is great, but I don't like this at all. Too churchy for me. Too gospelly.
13. (Eh? You're only supposed to do 12.) "Imagine" by RX.
It's a mash up. Sounds like George Bush intoning the lyrics of Lennon's "Imagine" over a backing remniscent of "Walk On The Wild Side". I have never liked the song "Imagine". Nice sentiments, and all that, but I think that it is one of Lennon's weakest songs. What do I know? I am in the minority on this. It's a clever mix, but I have no inclination to ever listen to it again.
On balance, it was a good compilation and an interesting draw. A chance to listen to something that I would not normally listen to. I'm glad that I got it.
I went to see "Pretty Persuasion" on Sunday afternoon. I will try to write a little about that tomorrow.
I'm really tired, man.
Read on kids.
1. "I Am What I Am" by... Actually I don't know. Ka didn't say. Gloria Gaynor?
It's a gay classic and it's a great track. HI-NRG disco and proven to be good for your health. I admit that I had a little bop to this. Last Christmas I saw the great John Barrowman (Captain Jack Harkness in "Doctor Who") perform this song when he was Elaine Paige's special guest at the gig we went to last Christmas. He said that it was his "statement of intent" from when he first started in the business of show. Not bad as a "statement of intent". Very good.
2. "Why Must The Show Go On" by Noel Coward.
Ah... The Master. Playwright, actor, singer, songwriter, English icon and, lest we forget, Mr. Bridger in the original "The Italian Job" and the man who turned down the part of Dr. No in... er... "Dr. No" with the words, "Doctor No? No! No! No!" This is a brilliant track. A call to arms to not bother, give up, walk away, stop trying, surrender, stop giving a shit (although Coward phrases it slightly more tastefully). I liked this a lot. Brilliant.
3. "Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps" by Lila Downs.
Never heard of this artist, but the song is very familiar. You will probably have heard the version by Doris Day. How would I categorise this track? Spanish, Meso-American? It is sung in English and Spanish. I don't know. It's not the kind of thing I would probably ever buy, but it is good and is beautifully orchestrated and beautifully sung by the lady.
4. "You're The One That I Want" by The Beautiful South.
Light years away from the John Travolta/Olivia Neutron-Bomb version. (Was this from The Beautiful South's album of cover versions?) Stripped down, slowed down, string driven, seductive and hardly recognisable as the same song. I have seen The Beautiful South twice in concert. At Aston Villa Leisure Centre they were terrific (and finished the gig with the disco classic "Use It Up And Wear It Out"). At the Birmingham NEC I nearly slipped into a coma as they were so boring (although when the guitarist fell down the stairs at the end and broke his hand - that was exciting!) I have also never seen a band smoke as many cigarettes onstage as The Beautiful South do.
5. "One Day I Will Walk" by K. D. Lang.
I know of K. D. Lang (started off in New Country, adrogynous image, came out, crossed over into mainstream pop - is that accurate?), but I don't know much about her work. I did like "Constant Craving" and "Summer Fling". Didn't she also do a duet of "Crying" with the late Roy Orbison? Sadly I think that this is a bit of a dirge. K. D. Lang does have a lovely voice though.
6. "I Know Where I've Been" from the "Hairspray" musical. I don't know who the artist is.
I have seen the original movie, but have never seen the stage musical. (They are planning a movie of the stage musical starring John Travolta in the part that Divine played in the original movie. Fucking hell! I thought that Scientologists weren't supposed to have a sense of humour?) I suppose that you could call this faux gospel. It has to be faux because isn't the musical supposed to be pretty dayglow? This song is not remotely dayglow. I suppose it is OK. Gospel isn't really my bag.
7. "Last Saskatchewan Pirate" by Captain Tractor.
Think the Sex Pistols dreadful "Frigging In The Riggin" crossed with something by the Pogues. I could imagine singing this with a pint in my hand. It's fun. Nothing more and nothing less. I bet that this would go down a storm live.
8. "Hertha Strubb" by The Tiger Lillies.
Gay cabaret. Nothing wrong with that, but British viewers listening to this may experience bad memories of the dreadful duo Hinge and Brackett, who failed to make us laugh on many a occasion. Sorry. It's terrible. I will have to put a voodoo on it so that it can never be played again.
9. "Flower's Grave" by Tom Waits.
Another dirge... but it's good. In fact, it's very good. In fact, it's brilliant. I do not own a single recording by Tom Waits (I don't buy a lot of records, full stop), but I love him for his uniqueness, his strangeness and his melancholy. Nobody sounds like Tom Waits. He sounds like he has a world of hurt on his shoulders and sings it like he's lived it and he means it. I love it. Great track.
10. "Midnight Train To Georgia" by The Indigo Girls.
Very familiar song. One of Gladys Knight's greatest hits. (I saw her perform this in Las Vegas in September 2002). The thing I have always loved about this song is the snapshot it presents of the perils of L.A., where "dreams don't always come true". In that way it is a good companion song to "Do You Know The Way To San Jose?" by Dionne Warwick. I don't know anything about the Indigo Girls, but this is a really good version of "Midnight Train To Georgia".
11. "Viva Forever" by The Spice Girls.
When the Spice Girls first appeared I categorised them to Sister 1 as A Singer (Mel C), A Pair Of Tits (Geri), Jailbait (Emma), Token Black (Mel B) and A Pair Of Legs (Victoria). Really unfair to the most successful all female group to ever come out of the UK. Yes? Unless my memory fails me, wasn't this the last song recorded by the band before Geri walked out in 1998? They were never the same after that. (Geri leaving robbed them of their heart, their soul and their sense of fun.) I really liked the Spice Girls. They were brilliant and a breath of fresh air. I can't speak about their albums, but they did not put a foot wrong with their singles (except "Mama" which was shit). I love this song. I love the harmonies. It's a good song as well.
12. "Today I Sing The Blues" by Aretha Franklin.
"Respect" is great, "Say A Little Prayer" is great, "You Make Me Feel Like A Natural Woman" is great, but I don't like this at all. Too churchy for me. Too gospelly.
13. (Eh? You're only supposed to do 12.) "Imagine" by RX.
It's a mash up. Sounds like George Bush intoning the lyrics of Lennon's "Imagine" over a backing remniscent of "Walk On The Wild Side". I have never liked the song "Imagine". Nice sentiments, and all that, but I think that it is one of Lennon's weakest songs. What do I know? I am in the minority on this. It's a clever mix, but I have no inclination to ever listen to it again.
On balance, it was a good compilation and an interesting draw. A chance to listen to something that I would not normally listen to. I'm glad that I got it.
I went to see "Pretty Persuasion" on Sunday afternoon. I will try to write a little about that tomorrow.
I'm really tired, man.
Saturday, July 08, 2006
We didn't buy a fridge/freezer. Lorraine didn't like any of the ones we saw. Funnily enough, I was quite taken by a huge, black, fuck off monolith of a fridge/freezer that we saw in Apollo in Sutton Coldfield. If Lorraine had given me the nod, I would have happily parted with the money to get that thing into my kitchen.
I didn't go to see "Pretty Persuasion". We spent so much time fridge freezer searching and shopping that I ran out of time. I will see it tomorrow.
I didn't pull up any weeds in my garden, but I did cut back some of my foxy neighbour Keren's triffid like plant that was hanging over the fence at the front into our garden. I doubt that she will notice.
I did watch "Doctor Who". I liked it a lot, but the whole Dalek/Cybermen war scenario was really low key and not as massive as it could have been. Nice little bit of the Doctor in the tardis at the end and the opening bit of the Christmas story looks interesting. (Hasn't David Tennant been terrific in this series? He has totally banished any memories of Christopher Ecclestone, who frankly in the offscreen segments looked as though he was taking it all terribly seriously. If, as now seems the case, Ecclestone was only signed for one series as a name actor to get it up and running again, I could think of many actors who might have done it better.)
Nothing else, except I found this quiz at I Have Ordinary Addictions. I thought it was interesting.
I didn't go to see "Pretty Persuasion". We spent so much time fridge freezer searching and shopping that I ran out of time. I will see it tomorrow.
I didn't pull up any weeds in my garden, but I did cut back some of my foxy neighbour Keren's triffid like plant that was hanging over the fence at the front into our garden. I doubt that she will notice.
I did watch "Doctor Who". I liked it a lot, but the whole Dalek/Cybermen war scenario was really low key and not as massive as it could have been. Nice little bit of the Doctor in the tardis at the end and the opening bit of the Christmas story looks interesting. (Hasn't David Tennant been terrific in this series? He has totally banished any memories of Christopher Ecclestone, who frankly in the offscreen segments looked as though he was taking it all terribly seriously. If, as now seems the case, Ecclestone was only signed for one series as a name actor to get it up and running again, I could think of many actors who might have done it better.)
Nothing else, except I found this quiz at I Have Ordinary Addictions. I thought it was interesting.
Pick 10 bands you really like. Do it now before reading on. Mine are
- The Beatles.
- The Rolling Stones.
- The Who.
- R.E.M.
- The Monkees.
- The Stone Roses.
- The Darling Buds.
- Cosmic Rough Riders.
- The Sex Pistols.
- Big Star
and then answer the questions.
- What was the first song you ever heard by 6? Probably it was "She Bangs The Drums".
- What is your favourite album of 8? Easy. "Enjoy The Melodic Sunshine".
- What is your favourite lyric of 5? Very difficult, but how about "She owns and operates her own sunshine factory"?
- How many times have you seen 4 live? 4 times. Leicester De Monfort Hall, Birmingham NEC, Milton Keynes Bowl and Earls Court.
- What is your favourite song by 7? That's a hard one. It changes. Today it is "A Little Piece Of Heaven" from "Crawdaddy".
- Is there a song of 3 that makes you sad? I suppose the song "So Sad About Us" from "A Quick One, While He's Away". It definitely strikes a chord sometimes.
- What is your favourite lyric of 9? "We're so pretty, Oh so pretty... Vaaaacunt!"
- What is your favourite song by 1? Ah... That would be "Paperback Writer".
- How did you get into 8? Heard them on the Bob Harris show on BBC Radio 2.
- What is your favourite song by 4? Again, it changes. Today, "Crush With Eyeliner".
- How many times have you seen 1 live? Sadly, never except in archive footage, but I have seen Macca twice (Birmingham NEC and Sheffield Arena) and the Bootleg Beatles 5 times (Birmingham Symphony Hall twice and the Birmingham NIA 3 times).
- What is a good memory concerning 2? Buying the Stones compilation "Rolled Gold", lying on my bed and listening to it on headphones for the first time. Knocked me out.
- Is there a song by 2 that makes you sad? I don't know. For some reason "Ruby Tuesday" reminds me of my Dad. I don't know why.
- What is your favourite song of 6? Today, "Standing Here". It has a two minute coda which is dreamy and pyschedeclic and beautiful and sums up my feelings about Lorraine perfectly.
- How did you become a fan of 10? I honesty cannot remember. I knew that the song "September Gurls", recorded by the Bangles, had originally been recorded by Big Star and I also knew that R.E.M. had said that they were massively influenced by Big Star. The first two albums had been released on a single CD, and it was a budget release, so I bought it. They are really good albums. Big Star should have been huge. I spit on the taste of the general public.
I have a review to write. Later.
Friday, July 07, 2006
Go away! I am listening to music and trying to work out how I only have about five quid left in my current account, with only a week gone in the current month.
Other than that...
We might be buying a fridge/freezer tomorrow. It all depends on how Lorraine feels about the choice available. (I don't actually think that we need a fridge/freezer. We have a fridge. We have a freezer. They work. Simple, beautiful, classic.)
I might be going to see "Pretty Persuasion". There isn't much else that I fancy at the cinema at the moment. (Definitely not "Pirates Of The Caribbean 2: Electric Boogaloo". I didn't much like the first one, and as I have had to put up with a framed photo of Mr. Depp and Mr. Bloom, purchased by Lorraine, on my sideboard for the last couple of years, I think I deserve not to see them on the big screen.)
I might pull up some weeds in the garden. There are a lot of weeds in my garden.
I will be watching "Doctor Who". Be there or be square. It's the final episode of the current series and is titled "Doomsday" . How cool is that?
Yeah...
Other than that...
We might be buying a fridge/freezer tomorrow. It all depends on how Lorraine feels about the choice available. (I don't actually think that we need a fridge/freezer. We have a fridge. We have a freezer. They work. Simple, beautiful, classic.)
I might be going to see "Pretty Persuasion". There isn't much else that I fancy at the cinema at the moment. (Definitely not "Pirates Of The Caribbean 2: Electric Boogaloo". I didn't much like the first one, and as I have had to put up with a framed photo of Mr. Depp and Mr. Bloom, purchased by Lorraine, on my sideboard for the last couple of years, I think I deserve not to see them on the big screen.)
I might pull up some weeds in the garden. There are a lot of weeds in my garden.
I will be watching "Doctor Who". Be there or be square. It's the final episode of the current series and is titled "Doomsday" . How cool is that?
Yeah...
Thursday, July 06, 2006
Ah... Progress on the Swiss Toni shuffleathon front.
Spinsterwitch has reviewed
The Greatest Compilation Album In The World
With a couple of exceptions my choices seem to have gone down well. I am chuffed at that. Really I am.
I have received my CD from Ka and I am listening to it as I write. It's distracting. It is a very eclectic selection. I'm not sure that I like all of it, but the best bits are just brilliant. I will give it another listen, and then another, and a review will be posted during the weekend. You can't rush these things, you know.
I am glad I drew somebody from foreign fields. It's the differences in culture that make us interesting, don't you agree? Ka is a name I have seen on many a sidebar and comment, but is not a blog that I think I have ever read. The lady has sent me her blog address, but it doesn't seem to link to anything that looks like a blog. Perhaps somebody would be kind enough to let her know that the CD has been received? Cheers.
Spinsterwitch has reviewed
The Greatest Compilation Album In The World
With a couple of exceptions my choices seem to have gone down well. I am chuffed at that. Really I am.
I have received my CD from Ka and I am listening to it as I write. It's distracting. It is a very eclectic selection. I'm not sure that I like all of it, but the best bits are just brilliant. I will give it another listen, and then another, and a review will be posted during the weekend. You can't rush these things, you know.
I am glad I drew somebody from foreign fields. It's the differences in culture that make us interesting, don't you agree? Ka is a name I have seen on many a sidebar and comment, but is not a blog that I think I have ever read. The lady has sent me her blog address, but it doesn't seem to link to anything that looks like a blog. Perhaps somebody would be kind enough to let her know that the CD has been received? Cheers.
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
Somehow I managed to lose Tuesday.
Appalling traffic problems getting home. Late getting the dinner on. Late sitting down to dinner. Got distracted watching an old "Doctor Who" episode ("The Girl In The Fireplace" starring the foxy Sophia Myles) on BBC3. Too late to get onto the computer. "C.S.I. Crime Scene Investigation" and "Lost". Had a wank. My Lord, does the excitement ever cease?
So, finally, a bit about "The Wind That Shakes The Barley" . There might be a couple of mild spoilers. Skip the following if you want to. It will probably be let down by my incoherence, anyway.
After the death of a friend at the hands of British soldiers, and after witnessing an act of savagery at a train station, again by British soldiers, a young doctor becomes a dedicated member of the Irish Republican movement. Later, when the Republican leadership makes moves towards peace with the setting up of partial Irish Home Rule, the Republican movement fractures and a brother turns on his brother in the most extreme way possible.
"The Wind That Shakes The Barley" is a truly excellent film. Harsh, brutal and uncompromising. Frankly, Cillian Murphy is just fucking fantastic as the idealistic doctor. I thought that the history aspect of the film was fascinating. I make no bones about the fact that even though my Dad came from the Republic of Ireland, some of my knowledge of Irish history is vague. I learnt more about the origins of the Irish Troubles from watching the film "Michael Collins" than I ever did at school. I suppose it might have been a bit controversial to be teaching Irish history in English classrooms, when IRA bombs were going off all over the UK in the 1970's.
(Memory. 1974. My Dad was going to take me to see one of the reruns of the "Planet Of The Apes" films at the Birmingham Odeon. That trip was cancelled when the Mulberry Bush and Tavern In The Town pubs were bombed. Those pubs were feet away from the Birmingham Odeon. I remember thinking that we would have been perfectly safe to go later in the week. The IRA wouldn't bomb the same street again, would they?)
There have been comments made about "The Wind That Shakes The Barley" that it is anti-British. Sure it is, but that is the story that Ken Loach chose to tell. I would be very interested to see if somebody could get the financing to make a movie about the same period from the British point of view. Now that would be incredibly controversial and I doubt if that film could ever be made.
My Dad was never romantic about his Irish origins. He didn't wear green, listen to Irish music, follow the football team or look for four leaf clovers. The only opinion my Dad ever expressed about his birthplace was that
1. There was no work to be found.
2. It was a shithole.
3. He couldn't wait to leave.
My Mom said there were other reasons my Dad left Ireland when he was 16 years old. He and some of his other Brothers' had a long standing feud with their oldest Brother. In my Dad's case that feud lasted for over a quarter of a century. In 1978 my Dad was told that he was gong to die. My Dad made peace with his older Brother and made arrangements to visit the family farm. He didn't make it. My Dad died on 13th August 1978 without going home.
Life is too short for feuding, you know?
It looks like my CD in the Swiss Toni shuffleathon has finally been received by Spinsterwitch. I'm looking forward to reading the review, good or bad.
But where is mine...?
Ho, hum. Big sigh.
Appalling traffic problems getting home. Late getting the dinner on. Late sitting down to dinner. Got distracted watching an old "Doctor Who" episode ("The Girl In The Fireplace" starring the foxy Sophia Myles) on BBC3. Too late to get onto the computer. "C.S.I. Crime Scene Investigation" and "Lost". Had a wank. My Lord, does the excitement ever cease?
So, finally, a bit about "The Wind That Shakes The Barley" . There might be a couple of mild spoilers. Skip the following if you want to. It will probably be let down by my incoherence, anyway.
After the death of a friend at the hands of British soldiers, and after witnessing an act of savagery at a train station, again by British soldiers, a young doctor becomes a dedicated member of the Irish Republican movement. Later, when the Republican leadership makes moves towards peace with the setting up of partial Irish Home Rule, the Republican movement fractures and a brother turns on his brother in the most extreme way possible.
"The Wind That Shakes The Barley" is a truly excellent film. Harsh, brutal and uncompromising. Frankly, Cillian Murphy is just fucking fantastic as the idealistic doctor. I thought that the history aspect of the film was fascinating. I make no bones about the fact that even though my Dad came from the Republic of Ireland, some of my knowledge of Irish history is vague. I learnt more about the origins of the Irish Troubles from watching the film "Michael Collins" than I ever did at school. I suppose it might have been a bit controversial to be teaching Irish history in English classrooms, when IRA bombs were going off all over the UK in the 1970's.
(Memory. 1974. My Dad was going to take me to see one of the reruns of the "Planet Of The Apes" films at the Birmingham Odeon. That trip was cancelled when the Mulberry Bush and Tavern In The Town pubs were bombed. Those pubs were feet away from the Birmingham Odeon. I remember thinking that we would have been perfectly safe to go later in the week. The IRA wouldn't bomb the same street again, would they?)
There have been comments made about "The Wind That Shakes The Barley" that it is anti-British. Sure it is, but that is the story that Ken Loach chose to tell. I would be very interested to see if somebody could get the financing to make a movie about the same period from the British point of view. Now that would be incredibly controversial and I doubt if that film could ever be made.
My Dad was never romantic about his Irish origins. He didn't wear green, listen to Irish music, follow the football team or look for four leaf clovers. The only opinion my Dad ever expressed about his birthplace was that
1. There was no work to be found.
2. It was a shithole.
3. He couldn't wait to leave.
My Mom said there were other reasons my Dad left Ireland when he was 16 years old. He and some of his other Brothers' had a long standing feud with their oldest Brother. In my Dad's case that feud lasted for over a quarter of a century. In 1978 my Dad was told that he was gong to die. My Dad made peace with his older Brother and made arrangements to visit the family farm. He didn't make it. My Dad died on 13th August 1978 without going home.
Life is too short for feuding, you know?
It looks like my CD in the Swiss Toni shuffleathon has finally been received by Spinsterwitch. I'm looking forward to reading the review, good or bad.
But where is mine...?
Ho, hum. Big sigh.
Monday, July 03, 2006
I am too warm. I am too tired.
And... I... just... cannot... fucking... write.
Sorry.
I will try to compose something about "The Wind That Shakes The Barley" tomorrow. It's a difficult film, but it is worth seeing.
And... I... just... cannot... fucking... write.
Sorry.
I will try to compose something about "The Wind That Shakes The Barley" tomorrow. It's a difficult film, but it is worth seeing.
Sunday, July 02, 2006
So, what was my prediction again?
"England win on penalties after extra time. It's due."
Still due, then?
What a sad, flat and depressed day it has been, and all over a football match. Daft. Endless what if's have been going through my mind. If Sven had taken different strikers? If Beckham had not been injured, and Rooney had kept his cool, surely they would have been our first two penalty takers? Perhaps they would have bottled it as well? Maybe we would have lost the game in normal time if they had still been on the field? We played better once Beckham had been substituted and Rooney sent off.
So, the Mclaren era begins. My Brother doesn't reckon that we will do anything under Steve Mclaren.
I walked around today in my "They think it's all over..." Ben Sherman T-shirt. The ticket collector in the cinema commented on it being appropriate. Sure was.
Killer "Doctor Who" episode last night. Did you howl at the TV at about the 42nd minute, like I did? You didn't? Check your pulse. You might be dead.
No time now to write about "The Wind That Shakes The Barley". Tomorrow.
"England win on penalties after extra time. It's due."
Still due, then?
What a sad, flat and depressed day it has been, and all over a football match. Daft. Endless what if's have been going through my mind. If Sven had taken different strikers? If Beckham had not been injured, and Rooney had kept his cool, surely they would have been our first two penalty takers? Perhaps they would have bottled it as well? Maybe we would have lost the game in normal time if they had still been on the field? We played better once Beckham had been substituted and Rooney sent off.
So, the Mclaren era begins. My Brother doesn't reckon that we will do anything under Steve Mclaren.
I walked around today in my "They think it's all over..." Ben Sherman T-shirt. The ticket collector in the cinema commented on it being appropriate. Sure was.
Killer "Doctor Who" episode last night. Did you howl at the TV at about the 42nd minute, like I did? You didn't? Check your pulse. You might be dead.
No time now to write about "The Wind That Shakes The Barley". Tomorrow.
Saturday, July 01, 2006
Just time for a quick post before the footie. England versus Portugal. My prediction? England win on penalties after extra time. It's due.
I was a whirling dervish today, because I got up a bit late. My own fault. After finishing posting last night I decided to copy some more music to my MP3 player (Suede's "Dog Man Star" and The Clash's "The Singles") and that is how, after a random listen for an hour or so, I ended up bopping around the front room naked to Voice Of The Beehive's "Just A City". Just thought you should know that.
I have sent
The Greatest Compilation Album In The World
off to it's surely-to-be-grateful recipient in the States. I have fetched, I have carried, I have sweated, I have worn my sunglasses (purchased for twenty five quid at some fancy store in Nottingham in 1999 - I like to think that they make me look like Lou Reed when he was in the Velvet Underground). I have checked out attractive ladies and unattractive men. Busy, man!
I think that that is it.
One more thing. Don't Macca and Ringo look good?
I was a whirling dervish today, because I got up a bit late. My own fault. After finishing posting last night I decided to copy some more music to my MP3 player (Suede's "Dog Man Star" and The Clash's "The Singles") and that is how, after a random listen for an hour or so, I ended up bopping around the front room naked to Voice Of The Beehive's "Just A City". Just thought you should know that.
I have sent
The Greatest Compilation Album In The World
off to it's surely-to-be-grateful recipient in the States. I have fetched, I have carried, I have sweated, I have worn my sunglasses (purchased for twenty five quid at some fancy store in Nottingham in 1999 - I like to think that they make me look like Lou Reed when he was in the Velvet Underground). I have checked out attractive ladies and unattractive men. Busy, man!
I think that that is it.
One more thing. Don't Macca and Ringo look good?
