Pynchon

Back on planet Earth, today I saw "Clerks 2".



There is a train of thought that says Kevin Smith has only one movie in him and that he has remade it over and over again. It's a good job it's a good movie then, isn't it?

I liked "Clerks 2". If you liked Kevin Smith's other films you will like it. If you disliked Kevin Smith's other films you will dislike it. I think that it is as simple as that.

Variable acting (Are those trees' onscreen? No! It's the two leads!), dodgy pacing (note to editor - too long! CUT CUT CUT), lots and lots of dialogue (most of it really funny), a bit about "Star Wars" (and the "Lord Of The Rings" films - No, I don't think Kevin Smith was impressed at all with the "Lord Of The Rings" films), a discussion about a sexual practice (ass to mouth, yay or nay?), unnatural sex (inter-species erotica? Eek!), and the greatest ever excuse for a lady to give for not having sex with her boyfriend.

"Clerks 2" is not a great departure. There is absolutely nothing in this film that betters the original "Clerks". I would go so far as to say that "Clerks 2" is probably a step back creatively from "Jersey Girl" , which actually is the film that makes a nonsense of my Kevin-Smith-Only-Remakes-One-Film opening, because it was an attempt to make a movie outside of the Jay And Silent Bob universe. I thought "Jersey Girl" was OK, but just OK.

Hell, enough blabber. Go and see "Clerks 2". It's not often that I hear real, stomach creasing laughter in a cinema, but I did hear it from the audience of this film.

There was some good news yesterday. Lorraine has had a promotion and a pay rise. It's quite a good pay rise and she deserves it. She has worked very hard for The Company, early mornings and late nights, sadly, I think, at the expense of spending time with and doing things with me (she went to work today). I have not expressed this opinion. I don't think it would matter if I did express it. All I have said is, "It's about fucking time" and I meant it.

Wait and see.

I went back to work today. It was the best day of my life.

I finally finished developing the cure for cancer. It is called Compound Pynchon-B (CPB for short). CPB comes in tablet form and works like this. You are diagnosed with cancer. You take two tablets just before going to bed. You sleep for 8 hours. When you wake up, the cancer has gone and will never return.

An interesting by-product of my cure-for-cancer research is the cure I have also developed for HIV. Same tablets, same result. One interesting difference is that the cure for HIV can be spread in exactly the same way as the HIV virus. Unprotected sex, blood transfusions, sharing needles, etc. I estimate that within 2 years the HIV virus will be obliterated.

I tested my anti-gravity device. I found the fattest manager in The Company levitated him 10 feet into the air and kept him airborne for 30 minutes. I believe that the anti-gravity device will eventually revolutionize world air travel. Clean, environmentally friendly and portable. Much like my Nuclear Fusion device that I tested last week.

Lunch time and I decamped to The Company restaurant, where I enjoyed a 5 course meal (my recipe, of course) prepared by Jamie Oliver and Nigella Lawson. (I am so glad that the management took seriously my suggestion to offer them both jobs.)

After lunch, I took a trip in my Time Machine.

(Remember my confusion after I went back to November 22nd 1963 and prevented the Kennedy assassination, only to find that the history books still showed that that event had occurred once I had returned home? Well, it turned out that it was impossible to change our past - paradoxes, apparently - but that every change I did make spawned a separate reality and that it was possible to skip forward in time in that reality to see how it turned out. Clever, eh?)

Today I went back to December 8th 1980 and knocked the gun out of Mark Chapman's hand, just as he was aiming at John Lennon. I then knocked Chapman out cold and called the police. I had a chat with John and Yoko. They were nice. I got their autographs and somebody took a picture of us. I looked good! I left before the police arrived. (I wonder if in that world I am a great modern mystery? Who was the man who saved John Lennon?)

I skipped forward 5 years to July 13th 1985, in that reality, and watched the Beatles headline "Live Aid" at the JFK Stadium in Philadelphia. They were awesome. Looks like John and Paul managed to settled their differences, at least for that day.

Back to our reality and back to work. It was a mad rush of an afternoon.

Did a tasting, with the staff, of the new chocolate I have developed that tastes exactly like real chocolate, but is not fattening. It was quite a hit.

Checked my lottery ticket. I had won. There had been multiple rollovers so I am now worth 40 million pounds. I vowed to give it all to charity.

Late afternoon I took a conference call with Prime Minister Blair and President Bush, where I outlined my plan to bring peace to the Middle East. They both liked the plan a great deal and said that I would be a shoo-in for the Nobel Peace Prize next year.

The Queen called to offer me a knighthood. I turned her down.

Seven ladies at work asked me out. Nothing new there, but today Kate Winslet, Rachel Weisz and Sara Rue also phoned asking if I would consider going out with them. I turned them all down. I do not look at other ladies. There is only one lady in my thoughts.

I went home in my Rolls Royce. Lorraine was waiting for me. She was wearing lingerie. I made mad passionate love to her. She said I was great!

The best day of my life.

Ah....

Steve Irwin's widow Terri has announced in an interview that the footage of her husband's death will never be broadcast. You can read the BBC news story here.

Good choice, but I bet you anything that it will appear on the Internet before the year is out. Perhaps I am just cynical.

I will not be seeking it out. The thought of somebody actually wanting to view it, excluding the professional bodies (police, coroners, etc.) who would have to look at the footage to ascertain what happened, is disgusting and vile. Crass. Obscene. Not interesting, not clever, not entertaining.

I am fine today. My stomach has settled down. I have a headache, but I think that is down to a lack of fresh air and too much TV. I suppose I should go back to work tomorrow.

By the way, "Lost" was interesting, wasn't it? What was that line again? "I think we've found it". Indeed. Hmm...

I have figured it out!

When I eat I feel ill.

The answer!

Don't eat.

Now I have got that figured, I'll be looking like Iggy Pop before the week is out. True, I might also be dead, but it is a small price to pay for beauty.

Writers block.

I have obtained and taken the stool sample to the Doctor's. That was kind of fun. I think I have managed to scratch my anus. (Too much information?)

I took a five minute walk to the top of the road and bought a TV Guide. I felt awful, so instead of walking I got the bus back down the road.

I have been watching TV. Hours and hours of ABC1. When I grow up I am going to marry Sara Rue. Here is a picture of her.



I will tell Lorraine later that Sara and I will be happy for her to stay with us pending a time that she can find her own place.

Later tonight Lorraine and I will be watching last nights "Spooks" and and episode of "The West Wing" on DVD. Even later still I will be watching the season finale of "Lost" on Channel 4. The trailers seem to indicate an explosion of some kind...

Perhaps I should do something constructive?

I know. I am going to reload my MP3 software onto my new computer. Pray for me.

I am not at work. I am ill.

(No! Come back! I promise this will not take too long. I'll get all the vomiting, shitting, feeling sick, headache, no appetite, no energy bit out of the way first. I promise I will.)

So, yes. I am ill again. I went to the Doctor's this morning and he has signed me off until Thursday. I have tablets to try to stop the explosive diarrhoea and I have a bit of plastic that I need to stick up my arse to get a stool sample, when the urge strikes me to have a poo. That urge hasn't struck this afternoon, which is a surprise in itself. Since Saturday night I estimate that I have been to the toilet 18 times, accompanied by my stomach making comedy noises every time. On one occasion I used the bed in lieu of being able to get to the toilet. At this Lorraine raised an eyebrow, said, "I'll change the bed" and did it without another word while I stood shamefaced to one side. Now, that it real love.

I have banished myself to the back bedroom. I definitely do not want to give this to Lorraine. She will cut my balls off if I give her this.

The Doctor said that it might be food poisoning or it might be a bug. He is not sure. I went through everything that I ate and drank on Saturday (Egg and Bacon sandwich from New Street Station, Meat Pizza from the High Street in Kingsbury in London, Orange Juice from the M&S at New Street Station). He was very interested in the Egg and Bacon sandwich and started using words like "Incubator" and "Salmonella" and "Could kill you". Great. I did point out that a guy at work last week was off for a day or two with a dicky stomach and that most likely I got it from him, because he came back to work too early. The Doctor seemed faintly disappointed at that.

Anyway. Enough illness. You OK? Yes? Good.

Where was I? Oh, yes. On Thursday night we went to see Johnny Mathis.



Johnny Mathis is 71 years old. He looks great. I'd have put his age at mid 40's, but he does move like a 71 year old. Slowly, hesitantly and a bit doddery. It didn't matter a jot because that voice is what mattered. That voice... Wow!

Total class gig. Absolute class from start to end. Brilliant singing and a brilliant orchestra. (Yes, this was an Orchestra and not a Band. A Band is four or five spotty teenagers wearing jeans singing about their drug habits. In this context there can be no mistaking that this was an Orchestra and not a Band). Lorraine's Mom used to be a big fan of Johnny Mathis. She saw him in concert many times. She used to tell me that you needed to give Johnny Mathis time when he performed live; that he was incredibly shy and would physically grow in confidence and stature as the concert unfolded. She was right.

Let me tell you some of the songs he did.

"Stone In Love With You", "Misty", "Stranger In Paradise" (my Dad's favourite song of all time, fact fans), "That Certain Smile", "You Make Me Feel Brand New", "Secret Love", "Look At Me", "Stardust", "Moon River" and many, many more. Jazz, Blues, Ballads, R&B, Brazilian and Spanish workouts. The encore was, of course, "When A Child Is Born".

I'm really glad that I went to see Johnny Mathis. Like I felt when I saw Andy Williams a couple of years back (another really good gig), it was an experience and I would see him again. Something different from what I would normally go to see.

My next gig is the Ordinary Boys. Hey! It all goes down the same way.

A word or two about Johnny Mathis' support act. It was a comedian. His name was Tucker (no first name) and he was awful. He was so awful he was kind of beyond awful.

Some jokes for you.

"I was in bed with a girl. She said I was well endowed. I told her, you're pulling my leg!"

Like that? OK, here's another one.

"I once went out with a girl. She had beautiful blonde hair, all down her back. No hair on her head. All down her back."

Or how about...

"I once went out with a girl who had a lazy eye. I kept worrying that she might be seeing somebody else on the side."

And the classic...

"I once went out with a girl. I said how much I liked her blue tights. She said she wasn't wearing any tights. They were her varicose veins!"

He went down a storm. Except for a pair of foxy ladies sitting three rows in front of us, Lorraine and I were the youngest people in that audience by about 20 years. Perhaps it is a generational thing. I remember when the biggest comedians on British TV were people like Bernard Manning and Freddie Starr.

My stomach is hurting me. A good point to stop.

I didn't want two days to go by without a post, but sadly there is no time tonight to write anything of note. We are going to London tomorrow (specifically Golders Green) to visit Lorraine's Aunt, and it is a very early start, so an early night is called for.

Johnny Mathis was fab, by the way. Review to follow in due course.

"The Queen".



Let's put my cards on the table.

I am not a monarchist. I think that the idea of an un-elected Head of State in a modern, 21st century country is ridiculous. I think that the British Royal Family is a medieval concept and should be phased out as soon as logistically possible. I support the idea of a British Republic and an elected President. How the mechanics of such a system would work, I don't know. There are some clever people about. They can worry about that, and anyway, it will probably not happen in my lifetime.

Let's be sensible about this. I don't want the Royal Family lined up against the palace of Westminster and shot. I don't want the Royal Family put into the Tower of London and left to rot. I would not condone sticking the Royal Family onto the back of a horse drawn cart, having them paraded through the streets of London, and the public allowed to pelt them with rotten fruit. They have never done anything to me and I have a grudging affection for some of them. It is the concept that I do not like, not the individuals. (Although Prince Edward could do with a smack. Anyone disagree?) Perhaps Canada or Australia would like them?

"The Queen" really is an astonishingly good film. Most of the reviews have concentrated on the great performance of Helen Mirren as QE2. I wouldn't disagree with that. Helen Mirren is very good and I fully expect her to get an Oscar nomination come January 2007. But, praise where praise is due to Michael Sheen as Tony Blair. He is Blair, down to the mannerisms, voice, posture, everything. It is as good a performance as the one he gave playing Blair in the Channel 4 drama "The Deal" in 2003. Just brilliant.

Of course the film is nearly total speculation. Nobody really knows what was going through QE2's mind during the first week of September 1997. Were the Royal Family really that arrogant, insensitive and isolated to really believe that remaining silent during that week was the best course of action, when a great many of the British people wanted to hear words of comfort from their Monarch? I don't know, but they come across that way. Did Blair really have to tell them that in a poll taken that week 1 in 4 of the people would vote to scrap the Monarchy? Did QE2 really think about abdicating? I don't know. Maybe not.

I think that the the filmmakers wanted us to have sympathy with QE2. I didn't. Watching "The Queen" I remembered exactly why I voted New Labour in 1997. Back then Tony Blair was the man. He really was what we wanted. (Well, what I wanted.) He had his finger on the pulse and knew exactly what to say and what to do. Shame it all turned to shit, isn't it?

Princess Diana? Pain in the arse, but was she asking for it? No. Who asks to be killed in a car crash? The car crash was an accident. Diana was a media tart (her people would tip off the press as to her whereabouts all of the time, a la Victoria Beckham), but she was also a focus for a lot of good with all of the charities that she supported. A lot of people were very upset that week. I wasn't particularly, but it was surreal. The news broke on my Birthday (31st August.) At least Wet Wet Wet didn't cancel their gig at the NEC that night. Lorraine and I went to see them. They were brilliant.

No post tomorrow. Lorraine and I are going to see Johnny Mathis at the Birmingham NEC. Back Friday.

"The Queen" will have to wait. It' not as if any of my reviews are essential reading, anyway.

I wasn't feeling very well today. I tried to go to work. I got up, had some breakfast, got dressed, went to the bus stop, got on the bus and started the journey, but I felt unwell, dizzy and sick. After 30 of the 35 minutes of the journey I got off the bus, rang Lorraine on the mobile and told her that I was going home. She reminded me that I was due to have some training today. I summed up my feelings succiently as follows.

"Fuck The Company and Fuck The Training. I'm going home."

And then I hung up. I crossed the road, got on a bus going in the opposite direction and went home. I was in the house by 9:30 and back in bed by 9:45. I slept until 14:50. It didn't really make any difference and nor did the 3 weetabix I ate. I still felt dizzy.

I vegetated on the settee until Lorraine came home. She had bought food and (seemingly) had forgotten all about our brief conversation earlier. We have eaten and I feel better now.

During the weekend I was also dizzy and felt sick. At one point, during the walk down Broad Street after the cinema, I felt so ill that I stopped walking and caught the bus. I never catch the bus down Broad Street.

Low blood sugar? High blood sugar? Virus? Eyestrain? Lack of sleep? (I was up very late again last night.) Perhaps I should stop fucking about and go to the Doctor's? I cannot remember the last time I went to the Doctor's.

Lorraine said that I could take today as a holiday, if I want. No. If I am ill, I am ill. I do not skive off work, and if I was skiving, I wouldn't be inclined to spend most of it in bed. Anyway, I only have about 5 days left to choose and I may need them next year.

Back tomorrow. All comments will be read and responded to, blogs digested and I will write up "The Queen".

Bless you all, my children.

"The Black Dahlia".



I once met the writer James Ellroy.

A couple of years back Ellroy was in the UK promoting the hardback release of "The Cold Six Thousand". Ellroy appeared at Waterstones, on the High Street in Birmingham city centre, for a reading, Q&A and signing session. I enjoyed it very much. From the get-go and his opening spiel, "Welcome paeodophiles, panty sniffers, perverts, degenerates, glue sniffers, etc." it was more than just a reading. It was a performance.

During the Q&A Ellroy's distrust and dislike of Hollywood was obvious. I asked him about the casting of "L. A. Confidential" , a film that I liked a great deal (either that or "Boogie Nights" should have won the Oscar that year, but they were both beaten out by "Titanic") and whether the casting matched how he had visualized the characters. He said that Guy Pearce stole the film and was exactly how he had imagined Ed Exley, but that he didn't really rate Russell Crowe or Kevin Spacey in their roles at all. (Personally I thought that Guy Pearce and Russell Crowe were perfectly cast, but that Kevin Spacey was completely different from the Jack Vincennze in the book. Now, Michael Madsen... He would have been a very good Jack Vincennze. Many will disagree with me.) Ellroy said that he did think "L. A. Confidential" was a good film, even though they had only used about 10% of the book. (400 characters were amalgamated to 40).

While watching, I did wonder what Ellroy thought about "The Black Dahlia". I don't suppose he liked it very much. I thought "The Black Dahlia" was an interesting attempt at Ellroy, but finally was just OK. I say OK because some of it was very good and some of it was very bad.

Very good. Brian De Palma has always known how to make a beautiful looking film. "The Black Dahlia" visually is absolutely gorgeous. It has really beautiful production values and design. It looks like the kind of film that Hitchcock might have made in the 50's (the look reminded me a lot of "Vertigo"), right down to some of the obviously fake, shot indoors street scenes. De Palma has a couple of good set pieces to get his teeth into. De Palma is very good at set pieces. I have never read the book, but it seemed that the typical Ellroy themes of perversity and corruption beneath the glamorous surface of film stars, big business and gangsters were all present and correct.

Very bad. Some of the acting is beyond camp. Josh Harnett is OK. (Some people might be surprised by that, but I have never thought that Josh Harnett is awful.) Aaron Eckhart (suprisingly) does a quite bad caricature of a cop falling apart. All sweat and bluster. Scarlett Johanssen is beautiful, but her performance is empty and she has practically nothing to do. Hilary Swank suprised me by being good as the femme fatale. (Good actress, obviously, but hardly a lot of people's idea of a femme fatale.) Finally, Fiona Shaw has a cameo which could be the worst performance by an actress I have seen in a film this year. Appalling.

I would see it again. Interesting film.

It is late. I will write about "The Queen" tomorrow.

I am supposed to be writing reviews of "The Black Dhalia" and "The Queen", both of which I saw this weekend, but I cannot be arsed. I'll do them tomorrow. Instead, here's a questionnaire that I found on the lovely Suburban Hen's blog.

Ready? Here we go.

1. What is the middle name of the first person you ever slept with?
Lorraine does not have a middle name.

2. What kind of underwear are you wearing and what color?
M&S Boxers. Light blue. (Actually very gay.)

3. What is the song you want played at your funeral?
I don't know.

4. Would you tell your parents if you're gay?
No. They really, really wouldn't understand.

5. What would your last meal be before getting executed?
Fish and chips and steak and kidney pie. All on the same plate.

6. Beatles or Stones?
Beatles.

7. If you had to pick one person on earth who should die, who?
I do not wish death on anybody. (Pause.) Oh, OK then. The guy who fucked my Mom and stole her money. He was in a car crash. My Brother and I bought champagne to celebrate.

8. Beer, wine or hard liquor?
Probably hard liquor.

9. What is the thing most important to you about your mate?
She loves me, man!

10. What are your plans for the future?
To become a global superstar and household name. If that does not happen, just to be happy.

11. No question on number 11. Suburban Hen left it out.

12. Do you walk around the house naked?
I do indeed. I am trying to raise the courage to one day answer the door naked. My Dad used to do it, occasionally. Always a laugh.

13. How many drinks does it take to get you drunk?
Just the one. Has to be a big drink,though.

14. Where is your best friend?
Downstairs working.

15. Hair colour you like on someone you're dating?
Couldn't give a toss. Brunette, blonde, redhead, bald...

16. Would you rather be blind or deaf?
I suppose deaf.

17. Do you have any special talents?
Not really. Is having a better than average memory a talent?

20. Favourite hateful thing to do to someone?
I am such a saint that I cannot think of a single thing.

21. First movie you can remember seeing as a kid?
One of the old Buster Crabbe black and white "Flash Gordon" serials at the Birmingham Odeon. (I am not that old. In the early 70's the Odeon used to show a lot of the old black and white serials on a Saturday morning. Me and my Dad went to a lot of them.)

22. What do you do as soon as you walk in the house?
Feed Moon The Cat.

23. When's the last time you went on a date?
A couple of weeks back, during my birthday week.

24. Do you like horror or comedy?
Both.

26. Person you most wish you hadn't made out with?
I regret nothing.

28. If you weren't straight, what person of the same sex would you do it with?
Difficult, but somebody like Ian Somerhalder, I suppose. (Where are you on the Kinsey scale? 1 is strictly heterosexual, 5 is strictly homosexual. I suppose I must be a 2.)

29. Where do you want to live when you are old?
Somewhere comfortable.

30. Who is the person you can count on most?
Lorraine.

31. If you could date any celebrity past or present, who would it be?
Linda Hayden. (She was an actress in exploitation films in the seventies like "Baby Love", "Blood On Satan's Claw", "Confessions Of A Window Cleaner", etc. Oh, yes. She moved me, all right. She might even have been my first wank.) Sherilyn Fenn was hot, as well. And Kate Winslet. Oh Kate...

32. Where was your first kiss?
In a hotel off Tottenham Court Road in London.

33. Favourite drinking game?
Don't have one.

34. What did you dream last night?
Cannot remember.

35. What is your favorite sport to watch?
Football.

36. When was the last time you got laid?
Christmas Day 2005. I have had a few hand jobs since then, though. Lorraine is not interested in sex at the moment.

37. What is your new obsession?
Climate change. I only fill the kettle with the water I need, I turn lights off, etc. to save energy.

38. If you could take back one thing in your past, what would it be?
In 1981, not asking a girl called Susan out. I liked her and she liked me. Something would have happened.

I have a joke!

A man, his wife and his ever nagging Mother-in-law went on vacation to Jerusalem. While they were there, the mother-in-law passed away.

The undertaker told the man, "You can have her shipped home for 5,000 dollars or you can bury her, here in the Holy Land, 150 dollars."

The man thought about it and told the undertaker that he would just have his Mother-in-law shipped home,

The undertaker asked, "Why would you spend 5,000 dollars to ship your Mother-in-law home when it would be wonderful to be buried here, and you would only have to spend 150 dollars?"

The man replied, "Long ago a man died here, was buried here and three days later rose from the dead. I just can't take that chance."

Boom! Boom! I'm here all week folks, with a matinee on Saturday.

Time for some groovy sixties music.



Fab!

When I read this I thought it was a joke. I mean, it is a joke isn't it? Or am I just overestimating the intelligence of some people?

I imagine the edict went something like, "Jihad against Stingrays! That's what I say. Let's wop those muthas! They take out one of ours, we take out ten of theirs!"

Morons. Scum.

In the mornings I sometimes see a girl at the bus stop. She is a redhead, not more than 18 years old. A large girl. Not fat exactly, but if you were an advertising executive she probably wouldn't be your first choice to front the latest weight watchers campaign. All of the times I have seen this girl (I'll call her Red) she has always dressed conservatively, even dowdily or plainly. I have never spoken to this girl. Not even once. Red would sit still and quietly and wait for the bus.

Something changed today.

Red had done something to her hair. She had put on eye makeup and was wearing lipstick. She had on a low cut top. The top showed the freckles on her tits, arms and back. She had on trousers. You could see a hint of lace pants just above the waist. The pants were red.

Frankly, she looked fantastic and as sexy as hell.

But... Something was wrong. She looked nervous. She kept moving on the seat and looking around, like she was scared. She was squirming. I am struggling for the words here, but you know how it is when you are embarrassed and you smile weakly at everybody who approaches you, because that is the person who might be about to say something horrible to you? That is exactly how Red looked.

I think she had made a decision to be beautiful and she was deeply regretting it.

I wanted to tell her, "Hey! You are the finest woman I have seen today. If I wasn't with someone, I would ask you out tomorrow and be proud to show you off." I didn't. I said nothing, because that would have been one step away from being a loony.

I don't know why I told that story. Maybe it is because Lorraine has appalling self esteem, at the moment, and when I tell her that she is beautiful and sexy she thinks that I am taking the piss. I'm not. She is beautiful and sexy.

... Of course, feeling better about myself is not going to happen if I continue doing stupid things like staying up until 1am, messing about on the computer, and then getting up for work at 6am.

I felt like absolute shit today. I think that for a short period I actually fell asleep at my desk. I have never done that before. I don't think anybody noticed.

I will update my sidebar and then I will go to bed.

Sometimes you just have to stop, don't you?

Normal service has been resumed. This weekend I saw two movies.

Yesterday I saw "The Wicker Man". There will be spoilers.



LB once said about me that I do not have any cinema snobbery. I was very pleased with that compliment. I hope that it is true. I do not have any problem whatsoever with remakes or reworkings of classic movies. I hope that I take every film on it's own merits and comment accordingly.

"The Wicker Man" is a reworking of the classic British movie called, er, "The Wicker Man". The original is a stone cold work of genius and is the very definition of a cult movie. When originally released it flopped due to bad timing and distribution, but eventually found it's audience on television and video. I think that it is one of the greatest British movies of all time and is definitely the greatest British horror film of all time. Horrific, strange, atmospheric, erotic and yes, even funny. It is a brilliant piece of work. I don't know if he still feels that way, but Christopher Lee used to describe "The Wicker Man" as the best film he had ever been in. I would probably agree with that.

When I read that "The Wicker Man" was being remade and was to star Nicolas Cage and be directed by Neil La Butte, I was hoping for interesting, if not great things. I have a lot of time for Nicolas Cage, who is nothing less than interesting in every film he has appeared in, and Neil LaBute directed two of my favourite films, "In The Company Of Men" and "The Shape Of Things". Good omens, yes?

No. They shouldn't have bothered. "The Wicker Man" is inferior in nearly every possible way to the original. I would go so far as to say that "The Wicker Man" is probably the worst film I have seen this year; even worse than the Kelly Brook clunker "Three" (hell, I expected that to be terrible).

I liked the changes that made Summerisle a female dominated society. That was interesting and something different, but it didn't go anywhere. I liked the way that the beekeeping subplot gave the hero a built in disadvantage. (He is allergic to bee stings.) I liked the way that the enticing of the hero into the trap had been planned over many years. That was good.

I didn't like practically everything else about the film. I would like to have seen the Christian-Policeman-Who-Is-Still-A-Virgin angle to be kept, but it was completely lost. (Maybe the filmmakers didn't believe an audience would believe a grown man as a virgin? Bollocks. It is all in the casting. If they had cast Jim Caviezel as the cop, I would have believed he was still a virgin. Wouldn't you?) The ex-girlfriend asking for help because her daughter had gone missing? Terrible, cliched nonsense. Then, finding out that the missing girl was actually his daughter? Oh, please... And let's not forget the bad acting. At the climax Nicolas Cage is truly terrible. Compare and contrast to Edward Woodward's performance in the original where his panic and horror feels real and is (pardon the cliche) spine chilling and almost unwatchable.

Waste of time and money. Awful. Don't bother. Actually, no. Bother. Don't take my word for it. Make your own mind up. Maybe you will love it, but dig out the original afterwards and come back here and tell me I am right.

Today I saw "Right At Your Door".



I thought that "Right At Your Door" was a bit overwrought and not particularly engaging (maybe because I didn't like any of the characters), but that it had a killer twist ending that, as the posters' proudly say, you will not see coming. If you take away the whole terrorist chemical attack on Los Angeles angle, which obviously brings it right up to date but is really only a device to get the two main characters into a particular situation, "Right At Your Door" would have worked very well as a half hour, cold war era "Twilight Zone" episode.

Really, that is about it. We have been very busy.

I have been stripping down the old computer so that Sister 3 can take it off my hands. Sister 3 is going to buy the computer, printer and the scanner, that I have never used, off me for three hundred quid. Frankly I think way overpriced for what she will be getting, but Lorraine will not let me give it to her. It works OK, mostly - Windows 98 and all, and will be Sister 3's first computer. I would imagine that a couple of years down the line it will give up the ghost, but hopefully will serve it's purpose until then.

At the same time as pissing about with the old computer I have been installing stuff onto the new computer. Never again...

Yesterday we bought Lorraine a desk from Cookes Furniture Store. It was a bargain. Three hundred quid or so. It was going for considerably more than that, but they were selling the one on display at nearly half price because of the sales were on and also because there was a bit of damage to the back of the desk. Nothing you would even notice, when it is against a wall.

We ate in Cookes Furniture Store's instore restaurant, which was interesting in itself because it was a proper restaurant and not just a halfassed coffee shop selling dry and turned up ham sandwiches and stewed coffee. Also it was packed with people and, except for the waiting staff, Lorraine and I appeared to be about 40 years younger than any other customer. Everybody stopped and stared at us when we entered and I saw some tumbleweed go past the window. I could have sworn that the music over the PA stopped as well, but I cannot confirm that.

Nice chicken and mushroom pie, peas and chips, though.

I have purchased a ticket for Jet at the Carling Academy, the Lemonheads at Wolverhampton Wulfrun Hall and tickets for the Christmas Cole Porter evening at the Symphony Hall. I think that I will allow myself one more gig before Christmas, but what shall it be? Lily Allen? The Cult? The Icicle Works? Babyshambles? Scissor Sisters. Maybe I should limit myself to somebody I have never seen before? Watch this space.

Last night we watched "Star Wars Episode VI: Return Of The Sith" (which was much better than I remembered) and "The Rocky Horror Picture Show" (which was about the same). I missed "The X-Factor". My life does not feel less empty for not watching it. I didn't even bother to watch the repeat today.

Today Lorraine was supposed to go to a work colleague's wedding, but felt unwell, so she didn't bother. I had already told her that I was not going to attend. She was annoyed at that. Why didn't I want to go? Stupid reasons, like not being able to fit into my suit, being out of condition, not wanting to smile and prance like a clown with some people I don't like, not wanting to feel uncomfortable all day. Daft things. I like the guy a lot, he is a sound dude, but it was not worth the aggro. I think some of the people at work know my reasons and cannot understand why I would give up the chance to go to a party and have free food. Lorraine thinks that I am skipping out on doing the things that a couple are supposed to do. I am and so is she.

I ask her everyday if she would like to have sex. Most of the time she doesn't even answer me. It is a real problem.

Note to self. Must diet and must try to feel better about myself. Good advice for all of us. Unless you are anorexic, of course.

Move along. Move along. Nothing to see here.

Lorraine decided that she wanted to watch the final two episodes of "Will And Grace" this evening on the Living channel. Fine by me, but puzzling because we had all but given up watching "Will And Grace" three years ago when it became so repetitive, so predictable, so arch and unfunny that even hearing the theme tune made me want to toss a brick through the TV set.

Anyway. We watched it.

Move along. Move along. Nothing to see here.

Megan Mullally still has nice tits though.

It has taken me two fucking hours to install a printer onto my new PC. (Nice printer, though.) As I actually work in IT it is nothing to be proud of. Lorraine now wants me to look into how to share access to the printer. Should be easy? Yes?

No. I remember nothing of what mini-Swiss Toni showed me on Friday. Lorraine thinks I was making notes. It is a shambles.

Last nights post escaped because I... Er... fell asleep and never actually managed to get onto the computer. Luckily I woke up just before "Lost" started. If I had missed that, there might have been trouble.

Where was I? Ah, yes. Saturday 2nd September 2006. I was...

Actually I am pretty bored with writing about things that happened last weekend. Been there. Done that. Let's get onto other things. How's about I just give you the short version? OK? Right.

Up 5am. In taxi at 6:10am. On train 6:45am. Slept. Arrived Euston 8:55am. Caffe Vergnano on Charing Cross Road. Best coffee we have ever had. Half Price Ticket Office in Leicester Square. Got tickets for Jeffrey Bernard Is Unwell starring Tom Conti. Walked around. Ended up in Hamleys. Shop had been taken over by pirates and crazed hordes of children. Also the giant Batman on the 5th floor had been replaced with a giant Superman. Not so good. Left Hamleys. Walked around. Ended up in Leicester Square. Ate at a place called the Spaghetti House. Terrible name for a restaurant, but the food was spectacular. Lorraine had eaten there before. Saw Jeffrey Bernard Is Unwell. Hilarious. Really enjoyed it. There seemed to be an awful lot of ad-libbing going on. End of term madness, I suppose. The matinee was the second to last performance. Tom Conti was just brilliant. No other word for it.

(Tom Conti is a strange actor. Everybody seems to know who he is, but nobody can name anything he has been in. Let me enlighten you. He was nominated for the Best Actor Oscar in 1984 for "Reuben, Reuben" and won a Tony for "Whose Life Is It Anyway?" on Broadway. He was in "Shirley Valentine", Alan Acykbourn's great "The Norman Conquests" trilogy and a rather brilliant Dennis Potter drama called "Blade On A Feather". In recent times he was in "Friends" - playing Helen Baxendale's Father, I think - and an amiable, but hardly exciting ITV thriller series called "Donovan". I think that he is one of our great acting treasures. Lorraine had always wanted to see him on stage - me to, which is why I chose to see "Jeffrey Bernard Is Unwell".)

On train 6:20pm. Slept. Arrived Birmingham 8:30pm. Home 8:45pm. Lorraine went to bed. I pottered about. The End.

Sunday I bought a printer. The End.

I did not see a film at the cinema at the weekend. The government did not fall, although it looks like Blair might finally have to declare his intentions. This is what happens when I do not go to the cinema.

Monday I went back to work. Might as well be The End.

So, where was I? Oh, yes.

Friday 1st September 2006. I was 43 years and 1 day old.

Is it true that you can drink lots of champagne and not get a hangover? Well, it was for me on Friday morning. I slept in, but only because I was tired. Lorraine, being insane and apparently in possession of the constitution of a horse, decided to get up at 5am and go to work. This surprised me a bit because Lorraine had booked the week off work. Her reason for going to work? She had things to do and the things couldn't wait.

Hell, we all have things to do. Some of us just don't want to do them.

Lorraine said she was only going to do a couple of hours at work, and that turned out to be true. She was back in the house by 9am.

We were out of the house by 10am, up the road to do a bit of shopping and back in the house by 12pm, watching terrible daytime TV and awaiting the arrival of the Techie to install the wireless network. While we were waiting Lorraine made a blueberry muffin cake. She had bought a mould. By 4pm were were eating Mickey Mouse's legs. They tasted nice.

The Techie arrived at 5pm. He appeared to be about 12 years old and looked like a younger version of Swiss Toni. (The real Swiss Toni, that is. Not the picture that is displaying on his blog at the moment.) Techie was fast and he was good. In, out, a couple of ctrl-Q's and the job was finished inside 15 minutes. I would like to say that this was because of the marvelous preparation that Lorraine and I had made, but it probably isn't the case. Techie even gave us a bit of training in sharing peripherals, etc. The IT Therapy service at Comet. Well worth the money. (I can only speak as I find.)

Friday evening we spent playing with the laptop and the computer. Wireless. Just fantastic.

Saturday 2nd September 2006. I was 43 years and 2 days old.

We went to London and saw Tom Conti in the West End in Jeffrey Bernard Is Unwell. I will write about that tomorrow.

This is very weird. It seems that the more I delay getting back to Blogging, the more difficult it becomes. I don't suppose it is weird at all. I remember reading that Keith Moon had to relearn how to play the drums every time the Who went back into the studio after an extended layoff, not including the times they were on tour, of course.

Let's get to it. Chronologically. With bad writing and all of that kind of thing.

Thursday 31st August 2006. My Birthday. I was 43.

Firstly, thank you everybody who sent Birthday greetings. It was very much appreciated. For the rest of you who could not be bothered, "May the fleas of a thousand camels, infest your armpits!"

I had 12 cards. They were all awful. Footballers. Racing drivers. Young men smoking pipes and wearing cardigans. Surfing cats. (Eh?) My Niece sent me a card that she had made herself. Inside was a picture of me on the last visit to the cemetery wearing her pink hat, with the wording, "Very camp man".

I did not receive a single present. (Boo!) Actually this was expected. I asked my family to each put towards a Debehams voucher, which they did, and they gave that to me at the meal last Monday. Lorraine had bought me several shirts and tops during the summer, and I only agreed to accept them on the proviso that they would be considered an early Birthday present. She kept to that. Good. She spends too much money on me.

Lorraine took me out to breakfast at the Frankie and Bennys on Tyburn Road. We both had steak and eggs. It was fantastic. The Frankie and Bennys on Tyburn Road is the best Frankie and Bennys I have ever been to. Really nice staff, never too busy and the food is basic but good. On Thursday we had the place to ourselves, except for a family of four who were going to the early showing of some kids film at the Showcase cinema.

After Frankie and Bennys we went to pick up the new computer. Got that home. Sat on the settee for an hour, scared to do anything. Got over that. Dismantled the old computer. Argued. Put together the new computer. Argued. Installed the modem. Installed Blueyonder. Installed the firewall and virus checker. Goto onto the Internet. Surfed porn (Ashlyn Gere - I always quite liked her). Argued.

Lorraine looked hot and sweaty and sexy. She was wearing tight red top. I asked her if she would like to take her top off. She declined. I was only trying to help. She looked a bit warm.

We had intended to go out to have a meal, but we were both a bit tired. Instead I fetched kebab and chips for us both and Lorraine broke open the first of two bottles of champagne. Then, for the first time ever, and probably the last, we ordered a pay-per-view movie from Telewest. The movie was "Factotum" starring Matt Dillon.

I thought "Factotum" was wonderful, silly and ridiculous. It's the story of a wannabe writer. A man who spends his days drinking and smoking and unable to hold down a proper job. (There for the grace of God, thought I.) It was a surrealistic experience and the perfect film to watch while pissed on champagne.

When "Factotum" was over we went to bed. Lorraine played with me for a bit. It was nice. I know she doesn't really like kind of thing, these days.

More tomorrow. It is nearly midnight and I have to go to work tomorrow. (Wank!)

Still here!

There is "back later" and then there is "back later". This was definitely a case of "back later".

It's been a very busy couple of days. There is a lot to write about, but not now. If I do not go to bed I will collapse.

Back later.

(But what I will say, at this juncture, is that I am writing this from Lorraine's laptop in the living room, on the wireless connection. Fucking brilliant. Should have done it years ago. I am supposed to be looking for a new printer, but she won't know. She has gone to bed.

Which is where I am now going. Good night.)