Pynchon

I have decided that less is more. Quick reviews of "Straightheads" and "Hysteria".

"Straightheads".



Gillian Anderson is an arrogant, driven, career woman who picks up working class oik Danny Dyer for a night of fun. After a stupid accident in the countryside, they are brutally attacked. After recovering, and after a chance meeting with one of the attackers, their thoughts turn to that of revenge...

I thought "Straightheads" was terrible. Violent, brutal, misogynistic and unpleasant. If I didn't dislike the phrase a great deal I would call "Straightheads" a video nasty. Certainly it was the kind of film that would have had a no budget release straight to video during the dark days of the 1980's. Frankly I don't know how "Straightheads" got a cinema release.

I am not a prude. I don't mind sex and violence in the movies, but they have to be married to a movie with a) a good plot or b) good characterisation or c) preferably both. "Straightheads" had neither. No progression in the plot or the characters and too much left unexplained and unsaid. Luckily "Straightheads" went nowhere fast. It was only 80 minutes long.

It was a shame, because there was the germ of an interesting film here, with an especially interesting turn in the plot in the last third. How often do I say this, but it could have been good if it had been done properly. What a shame. I really like Gillian Anderson and Danny Dyer, but they were on a hiding to nothing with this film. She, especially, is very underrated (and is still particularly fit).

If you want to see a good British revenge movie, rent or buy Shane Meadows' "Dead Man's Shoes". It is a little masterpiece. Last weekend I should have seen his "This Is England" instead. Ce sera sera...

"Hysteria".



In 1938 the young Salvador Dali meets with the aged and dying Sigmund Freud. "Hysteria" is a play about what happens at that meeting. Or is it? Nothing is ever really that simple in a Terry Johnson play.

"Hysteria" has been billed as a farce and I suppose that some of it is. There is running in and out of rooms. A man loses his trousers. A semi clad lady hides in a cupboard. (There is a completely naked lady in Act 2! But that isn't really part of the farce.) A staid and serious gentleman walks in on two men in a completely innocent but compromising position. It is energised, exhausting to watch and very funny.

"Hysteria" is also challenging and profoundly intellectual, tackling themes as diverse as a Doctor's responsibility for his patients, Nazism, denial of Judaism, Atheism, Euthanasia and Surrealism.

I thought that "Hysteria" was spellbinding. Absolutely amazing and brilliant. I love Terry Johnson's work. "The Lorelei", "Hitchcock Blonde", "Insignificence". Lots of others. You can look them up. He is a fascinating writer.

There is an amazing sequence late in the play when Freud's study becomes a Dali fantasy. Or is it a Freudian nightmare? It is the most amazing technical transformation I have seen in a theatre since the collapsing house at the end of a production I saw of "An Inspector Calls" at the Birmingham Rep, a couple of years ago. Knocked my head off.

"Hysteria" at the Birmingham Rep is a great production. If you can see it, do so.

Labels: Movies, Theatre

I think the idea tonight is for Lorraine and myself to watch "Lost In Space" for the umpteenth time. I don't really mind. Many people will disagree, but I think it is a good film, and it brings back happy memories for Lorraine and myself, circa 1997. Hanging out in Nottingham with some of her male, gay friends, who all fancied Matt Le Blanc. Drinking before we got into the cinema (note - we still behaved ourselves), holding our breath during the endless moment of silence when the warp engine (or whatever it's called) is engaged and the Jupiter II goes through the Sun (oops, spoiler, sorry about that), playing around in the amusement arcade afterwards, going back to her place and playing around with each other there.

It's true. Lorraine was the perfect Girlfriend in 1997. Maybe, at that time, she thought I was the perfect Boyfriend? Don't things change, or perhaps neither of us were as perfect as we thought we were.

Anyway...

I had better get a move on.

I've just got back from seeing "Factory Girl" at The Electric.



A long time ago, when I was going through my Velvet Underground period (i.e. I bought some cassettes - eeek! - of the first two albums, and played them incessantly for a couple of months), I purchased a book called "Up-tight: The Velvet Underground Story" by Victor Bockris and and Gerard Malanga (who is actually portrayed in the movie). On page 9 of the book there is a three storey still of Edie Sedgwick taken from an Andy Warhol movie "Screen Test #1".

I'm looking at that picture now. Beautiful looking girl. Really stunning. To my eyes now she looks quite a bit like Melissa George. I think it's the jutting bottom lip that does it. In the book there is a little bit about Edie Sedgwick. She was a face at Warhol's Factory. She was a party girl. She appeared at some of Warhol's happenings and in some of his movies

That is about all of knew about Edie Sedgwick.

I saw a trailer for "Factory Girl". It's a period of time that I am interested in and the trailer indicated that it could be a good movie. I knew of Sienna Miller. She was good in "Alfie", even though it is an abomination of the original movie, and she was sexy in her little bit in "Layer Cake". Probably she is more famous now due to her tabloid activities and the whole Jude Law thing. I recognised Hayden Christensen, obviously because of the last three "Star Wars" movies, although he didn't particularly make an impression on me in those films. I didn't recognise the guy playing Andy Warhol. Not at all. I nearly fell off my seat when at the end of the trailer it said that it was Guy Pearce.

(Jabber, jabber, jabber. Get on with it.)

I thought that "Factory Girl" is a very good movie. I really enjoyed it. Very strong performances from Sienna Miller (surprisingly?) and Guy Pearce. Hayden Christensen is remote as (whisper it, because officially it is not him) Bob Dylan, but the character is supposed to be standoffish anyway, so maybe that works. The film is very evocative of time and place. It reminded me a lot of the chaotic nature of "The Doors" movie. The colours, the music, the drugs, the chaos, the pushing at the edges, the disintegration. Great soundtrack as well.

Maybe the events didn't quite happen the way the movie presents them, but I certainly would recommend the movie.

I've ran out of time. Lorraine is calling me. "Straightheads" and "Hysteria" tomorrow.

Labels: Lorraine, Movies

I had some things to say, but the moment has kind of passed. Probably it's because I am a bit tired. It's been a busy day.

Today I went to see a film called "Straightheads" and a play called "Hysteria". One of them was great and one of them was terrible. If I may (as if anybody cares) I will write about "Straightheads" and "Hysteria" tomorrow. If I do it now, it will be drivel.

I can manage a joke, though.

A man came home from work, sat down in his favourite chair, turned on the TV and said to his wife, "Quick! Bring me a beer before it starts."

She looked a little puzzled, but bought him the beer.

When he had finished it, he said, "Quick! Bring me another beer. It's gonna start."

This time she looked a little angry, but bought him a beer. When it was gone, he said, "Quick! Get me another beer before it starts."

"That's it!" She blows her top.

"You fucker! You waltz in her, flop on your fat ass, don't even bother to say hello to me and then expect me to run around the house like your fucking slave getting you beer after beer. Don't you realize that I cook and clean and wash and iron for you all day long?!

The husband sighed sadly and said, "Oh dear. It's started."

Labels: Humour, Movies, Theatre

You Scored 65% Correct

You are a solid child of the 80s You'd never confuse Tiffany from Debbie And while you may not know Prince's first #1 hit You know every word to Little Red Corvette

Labels: Survey, The Company

Re-reading my last post I think that I gave the impression that I am drunk constantly. Not exactly true. I rarely drink any alcohol during the week and don't normally do too much of it at the weekend. Frankly I don't know what came over me last weekend. The special occasion of going out with Lorraine for the evening? The urge to show off with my family? The intention to drink my Brother under the table?

Stupid and ridiculous.

I have a mememe. Stolen from lots of places. (Frankly I have nothing much else to write.)

1. Do you still talk to the person you LAST kissed? Yes, I do. I kissed my Niece, or to be more accurate, my Niece gave me a kiss on the cheek. It's her birthday next week (she will be 10) and she called me up yesterday to say that she would like as a present the first book written by Katie Price/Jordan, "Being Jordan" (WTF?) and some money.

2. Have you ever seen your best friends cry? Yes. I have seen Lorraine cry, but other best friends? What best friends? Don't be ridiculous.

3. What kind of vitamins did you take as a kid? Nothing whatsoever, as far as I can recall.

4. What is the last thing you ate? Gammon, egg and chips. Not a healthy choice, but it was Lorraine's idea, so at least I can blame her.

5. Did you get any compliments today? Actually, yes I did. From Lorraine. It was at my official work appraisal. She said that I have done a really good job on supporting the old product by myself, the proof of the pudding being that I was practically the only person in the Support Section that has not been complained about by the customers. Yes, surprised me as well.

6. Have you ever gone to court? No.

7. There was no number 7 on the original mememe, so I suppose I had better make a question up. How about, what was your first memory? My 7th birthday party. There was a cake. There were balloons. There were a million adults getting pissed. I think there was also a fight between uncles. Ah... Great times.

8. Are you friends with your neighbours? Mr. Rasta and his missus Gillian are very nice people and the foxy Keren is... foxy, but friends? Not really. They keep to themselves and so do we.

9. No question number 9. I'll make up one. Who would be your celebrity girlfriend/boyfriend? Kate Winslet. 8 years now and going strong. (Since "Holy Smoke".)



10. What language does your mum speak? English.

11. Where have you lived throughout your life? Birmingham, Leicester, Nottingham.

12. What's the last piercings you got? I haven't got any piercings.

13. When was the last time you drove more than 15 minutes? Drove myself? Early 90's. Was driven? Today. We had a lift home.

14. Do you get distracted easily? Completely. I cannot concentrate on anything lately.

15. Have you ever thrown up/passed out from drinking? Thrown up, yes. Passed out, no.

16. How many times have you drank alcohol? Must be thousands of times.

17. No question 17. So, should Al Gore run? Yes, he should. I think he would make a difference.

18. Have you ever played Spin the Bottle? No.

19. Have you ever toilet papered someones house? No, but my Brother once painted somebody's windows red in the middle of the night, because they called my Mom a whore.

20. Have you ever had a crush on your Sister's/Brother's friend? My Brother has known many a fine wench and I have fancied all of them.

21. Have you ever gone to a beach? I have.

22. Have you ever had a stalker? No. Never.

23. Do you remember your music teacher's names? Mrs. Smith. Cannot remember any of the others.

24. How good is your eyesight? I need glasses for close reading and computer work, but I read a newspaper on the bus without them.

25. Have you ever gone to a party? I have.

26. Would you ever swim with the sharks? I cannot swim, so I would probably drown and the sharks would eat me. So, no.

27. What would you say if I told you I was in love with your bro? Good luck.

28. Have you ever been out of your country? U.S.A., France, Italy, North Africa, other places.

29. Have you seen your best friend naked? I have seen Lorraine sans clothes, but not recently.

30. What's the best wedding you've been to? My Boss at the Chemical Company. Loads of money spent. He hired an opera singer to perform at the Church and she was fantastic. Brilliant disco, brilliant food (his missus' son was a high class chef). Total class the whole day/night.

31. Would your parents be mad if you got suspended for fighting? My Mom, yes. My Dad would have asked me if I left them standing, and if I'd said yes, he would have been mad.

32. Where are your siblings right now? Sister 1, probably gone to bed. Sister 2, watching TV. Sister 3, probably with a man doing whatever she likes to do. Brother, on the computer talking to one of his ladies.

33. Do you have a Coach, Fendi or Louis Vuitton purse? Sadly I do not know what such items are, but I do have a mighty fine selection of Ben Sherman T-shirts.

34. What's the last dream you can remember? I was out with Lorraine's Brother in law, something happened and I lost all of my money. I blamed the cunt with a passion.

35. Who was the last person that called you? My Niece. See 1.

36. What time did you wake up this morning? 5:45.

37. What did you do this weekend? Read the blog. It's all there.

38. What does the 4th text message on your phone say? Text message? I've not turned the phone on in weeks. (Note that it is the phone and not my phone. We share it.)

39. No question 39. Name one famous person who died too young. Buddy Holly, for obvious reasons. He was just getting started. The history of popular music would have been very different, if he had lived.



40. When was the last time you were sick and where was it? A few weeks ago at Sister 1's. Vomiting, shitting (without going to the toilet), stomach cramps. Shall I go on? No. I still have no idea what caused it.

41. Who's the last celebrity you touched? I think that it may have been the actor David Warner who was signing autographs at a Memorabilia Fair at the NEC. He signed my copy of "Sympathy For The Devil", which was part of the "Unbound" series of alternate Doctor Who audio adventures. A different actor played The Doctor in each story and Mr. Warner was one of them. (Others included Geoffrey Bayldon, David Collings, Michael Jayston, Derek Jacobi and... gulp... Arabella Weir. It is very good series, by the way.) I shook Mr. Warner's hand. He was a very nice man.

42. What's in your back pocket? I am wearing joggers which do not have a back pocket.

43. When was the last time you smoked a cigg? I smoked until the early 80's and then stopped. Never regretted it.

44. Do you want to be pregnant right now? I wouldn't have thought so. It would probably ruin my Godlike physique.

45. Do you wear coloured contacts? No.

46. Another missing question. Name an unusual identifying physical characteristic which is yours and yours alone? All of the Pynchon men have the same rare fingerprint on the finger next to the little finger on both hands. It is called a plain whorl and looks it like this.



My Dad had it, I have it, so does my Brother and so does my nephew.

47. What were you doing at 4am this morning? Sleeping.

48. What do you usually do first in the morning? Turn the alarm off.

49. Do you know anybody in the Army? No.

50. What are you going to do after this? I may work on an alternate Beatles timeline on Other Timelines. Or I may go to bed.

Labels: Drinking, Mememe

Where have all the words gone?

This is becoming a real struggle. It probably didn't help getting that drunk at my Mom's birthday meal that I collapsed on the settee, once I had got home, and didn't move for the rest of the evening.

(Yes, I am ashamed of myself. It's not going to happen again.)

I don't know how I got through today. Quick reviews. It's all I can manage

"Leben der Anderen, Das" at the Electric Cinema, last Friday.



East Germany. 1984. Hauptmann Gerd Wiesler (played by Ulrich Mühe) is a stasi agent ordered to monitor a successful playwright Georg Dreyman (played by Sebastian Koch). Wiesler is quiet, methodical, dedicated and professional. He believes in what he is doing. He is also lonely and a man who empty on the inside. As time goes by, the lives of Dreyman and Dreyman's girlfriend Christa-Maria Sieland (played by Martina Gedeck) start to impact on him and then, in at first very subtle ways, he starts to impact on them.

It was the second time I attempted to see "Leben der Anderen, Das". The first time the projector broke down with half an hour to go. (To be honest, a crucial half an hour, detailing the dramatic end of the main story, the rise of Gorbachev, the fall of Communism, the reunification of Germany and the reconciliation of Germany's past. Big subjects.) I'm glad I made the effort.

"Leben der Anderen, Das" is a great movie. Brilliantly written and acted. A worthy winner of the Foreign Film Oscar this year. Incredibly moving and tragic and thoughtful and startling. Lorraine was in tears by the end of it. The best movies are movies about people. Very important to understand how true that is.

I heard that there is an American remake in the works.

Oh, fuck off... For God's sake...

After the film we stayed to watch The Electric Cinema Film Orchestra.



The Electric Cinema Film Orchestra have been formed by the Electric's owner Tom Lawes, who is a session musician and soundtrack composer. They play pop and rock music associated with well known movies, with clips of said movies showing behind them. What would you call that? A multi-media presentation?

Anyway, to my battle scarred ears the gig was not nearly loud enough, and although Tom Lawes is a really great guitarist, he is not the greatest vocalist in world. Other than that, it was a very good gig. I thoroughly enjoyed it. The band managed pretty good approximations of a dizzying range of tunes. Here are some of them. You can work out the films for yourselves.

"I Wanna Be Your Dog", "Riders On The Storm", "Comfortably Numb", "Brown Sugar", "Sympathy For The Devil", "You Never Can Tell", "Shake A Tail Feather", "Green Onions", "Folsom Prison Blues".

Lots of others.

We stayed out late. I drank several alcoholic specials. Nice.

Mom's birthday went well. I drank too much, Lorraine was pissed off at me, but it was still a good time. I seem to remember that Mad Aunt Delilah turned up with some strange woman. A special friend, said my Mom raising an eyebrow.

Fuck, who gives a shit? I don't. If my Aunt has finally managed to admit after nearly 67 years that she likes girls, then good for her. Maybe it will make her less crazy. I'll tell you about her madness, some time.

Labels: Family, Movies, Music

Bit hung over this morning. Still feeling tired now. I should really go to bed, but I wanted to have a quick surf and post. Last night we went to see "Das Leben der Anderen" and The Electric Cinema Film Orchestra at the Electric Cinema. It was a good night out, and a fair bit of alcohol was ingested by me, but I was happily tipsy and not an angry drunk. Lorraine drank water. I will write about our night out tomorrow.

Although it was a relatively late night for the pair of us, it didn't stop Lorraine from rising at some obscene hour of the morning to go to work to help re-cable the office. Is it her responsibility to do such stuff? No, of course not, but she said that she wanted to make sure it was done properly as she cannot trust the technical clowns to do it right.

So, my day...

I rose late, nursed my head, cleaned the house, went out, did some grocery shopping, came home, had a bath while listening to my MP3 play on random (first song was "Comfortably Numb" by the Pink Floyd, which I thought was quite appropriate), watched "Doctor Who" (both Lorraine and myself think that the Daleks are being a bit overused), watched "Any Dream Will Do", waved goodbye to Lorraine who decided to go to bed and then finally watched "House Of Sand And Fog" starring Ben Kingsley and Jennifer Connolly, which is a really brilliant and dramatic movie and a fine piece of work.

I probably could have fitted a film in somewhere, but nothing I haven't seen strikes me as an essential view at the moment. I may see a film tomorrow, but it is 50-50. It is my Mom's Birthday (she will be 72) and the Pynchon posse (and Lorraine) will be causing mischief at a steak and chips shit hole somewhere in the West Midlands. I may not want to see a film.

Better go to bed.

Labels: Drinking, Gigs, Lorraine, Movies

I've been thinking about Virginia Tech and about what recently happened.

There is a quote. I'm sure you know it.

"Guns don't kill people. People kill people".

I think that it was said in the wake of the Columbine shootings by somebody associated with the National Rifle Association, but I might be wrong. It doesn't matter. What does matter is that it is correct.

(Hang on! Hang on! Don't throw things at me. Let me finish.)

However, it needs to be pointed out that a gun is a much more efficient device for implementing mass murder than a knife or a hammer or a baseball bat. You can do it at a distance. You can avoid getting blood and brains and shit on yourself. You don't have to feel the resistance of a body when you strike it. You can be cool.

Give a man the tools...

Sad though it is to say, I believe that the tragic events at Virginia Tech will trigger little if any positive action in the fight for gun control. Politicians of all parties will make sincere and heartfelt speeches of condolence, but will still vote for their vested interests; their paymasters in the Pro Gun Lobby. Attempts to remove or amend the line 'A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed' in the second amendment of the American Constitution will fail, despite the fact that it was written for a completely different set of circumstances and is utterly inappropriate for the 21st century.

In a couple of more years you can expect another Virginia Tech, another Columbine, another Red Lake, another Nickel Mines and more mentally ill, sad, dispossessed, bullied, lonely, ignored outsiders on our TV screens.

No change. Business as usual.

Prove me wrong. I hope you do.

Labels: Quote, Thoughts

Let me tell you about what a nice guy yours truly really is.

All day yesterday I was on a course learning about data manipulation software. It was not at all boring. In fact it was really interesting. I learnt a lot, made some really good notes and came out of the course in a really good mood.

The mood didn't last.

I got back to my desk with an hour of the working day still to go. Plenty to do, but I felt I could cram quite a bit of work into an hour. I was up for it.

Except that I couldn't log on to any of the external sites.

I asked if somebody had been messing about with the modems. I got indifference.

I asked again. Had somebody been messing with the modems? Somebody said that they thought somebody had been under my desk doing something (isn't that a great sentence?), but that it shouldn't have affected me.

I said that I was affected. Could somebody sort it out? Please?

Lorraine suggested that I have a look for myself.

And I did have a look for myself. Hardware, cables, modems, printers, mouses, routers, phone sockets, wireless, blingimigs, woofers, tweeters, blodgers, marfarrrrs, eekephips. Machines. These are not my bag. These are not things that I am happy with. I sweat when I have to plug in and mess about with machines. I don't like doing it. I especially do not like making a fool of myself at work with machines especially when there is a dedicated (hah!) section, the Internal Infrastructure Team, to do it for people like me.

Then Lorraine said, "We always have to baby you along, don't we?"

I fucking exploded. In front of everybody. In front of the whole office. Well, by that time it was 17:30 and the mass rush for the exit had started, so it wasn't everybody who witnessed the Pynchon meltdown. I ranted and I raved and I banged the desk with anger.

Something had fucking changed. Someone had stopped me doing my work. Somebody had gotten in my way. Somebody should take responsibility. All I wanted was help to do my fucking work and all I was getting was indifference. Like our customers. Like everybody that The Fucking Company deal with. I could see the James Cunt in his office. He heard what I said.

Lorraine was very red in the face. She said some things and I said some things and a guy who was going to give Lorraine and me a lift home quietly disappeared. I don't blame him. He probably thought we would start punching each other in his car.

Eventually, after a very quiet journey on the bus, we got home and started again.

Lorraine said that I had shown her up in front of everybody. She said that I had embarrassed her. She said that work was bad enough as it was without me being a bastard. She said that if she let me get away with it, I was giving all of her staff carte blanch to talk to her how the hell they wanted. I said that I really didn't give a fuck.

But... She was right.

I regret it. I could have handled it a lot better. I could have chosen not to lose my temper. You can choose to do that, you know. I know that sometimes I have anger problems, but it rarely turns into a red mist moment. My Mom has told me that my Dad used to have those a lot when he had been drinking.

You can choose not to be an arsehole and that's what I have become.

Before stopping to watch "C.S.I. Crime Scene Investigation" and "Smith" I listened to "In Utero" by Nirvana on my MP3 player. I am pretty certain that the last time I listened to that album was the evening in 1994 that Sister 3 had her abortion. I paid for that abortion. She asked me for the money because nobody else would help her out. Maybe "In Utero" is my severe crisis album?

Yes, I am a really nice guy. A really fine piece of work.

(By the way, when I got into work this morning the connectivity on my PC was fine. Lorraine had crawled under my desk and sorted it out. That really made me feel good. Nothing else was said at work by anybody. Pynchon survives, but it will be a blessed relief if I am sacked.)

Labels: Arguments, Computers, Lorraine, Stress

Wasn't Andrea beautiful?

It is not even May, but Lorraine has been making plans for Christmas. She says that she wants a family Christmas. By this she means that she wants to spend Christmas with her family, as she would be more likely to stick needles in her eyes than want to spend Christmas with my family.

Lorraine's sister Ellen thinks that this is a fine idea and has been sticking her oar in and organising things. She has come up with a venue.

Weymouth. In December.

Oh, fuck off...

I'm sure that Weymouth is very nice, but I'm not going and I've told Lorraine as much. She is still keen to go, with or without me. Good for her. I wished her the best. She doesn't seem particularly bothered that I will not be with her.

Maybe it's me. Maybe I'm being selfish, but I will not be stuck for a week with people that I struggle to spend a couple of hours with and who, constantly, sideline Lorraine because she had a different Father to the rest of them.

Ellen, hubby Victor and their two rude bastard freak children. Lorraine's brother Victor (who is OK), missus Linda (who looks at me like an Entomologist studying a rare insect) and their two sets of twins. Lorraine's step dad Ian (who is OK) and his missus, the ever dreadful Penny (who might not want to go either, and if she says No, the whole thing might be off.)

No. It will be shit. Lorraine and I will be ignored in favour of children and parents. I don't know why Lorraine wants to put herself in that situation. (They are her family, you ignoramus! That's why.)

So, I will probably be home alone at Christmas. I will be invited to Sister 1's for Christmas dinner, because she invites us every year and we never go, but this year I will go. I will get pissed with my Brother. I will watch TV. Maybe I will convince my Brother to accompany me to a lap dancing club and see if the cold December air makes the strippers nipples stand up even taller.

After Ben died I thought that we were going to arrange a holiday together this year. Lorraine has told me that we haven't got the money.

(Tonight's post brought to you by "Are You Lonesome Tonight" by Elvis Presley.)

In other news, today I have had conversations with two beautiful women who wanted to talk to me.

At the bus stop I talked to a girl that I call Red. I wrote about Red before, remember? Large girl. Red headed. Used to dress plainly and unobtrusively until she became a glorious, nervous butterfly one day in September 2006. And she knocked me out. A nice looking girl, but didn't know it. We talked about the weather and the bad bus service. Lovely smile.

On the bus I talked to an Austrian girl called Lisabeth. I written about her before. I fell in love with her for 2 hours on the bus in February 2007, during the snowstorms that paralysed the West Midlands. I've seen her on the bus a handful of times since then. We always chat. This time we talked about Prince William and Kate Middleton (I don't really give a shit, but I think he is going to have a life of romantic misery, just like his Dad), work, the weather, gardening, films (hurrah!) and foreign holidays. Lisabeth has a strange accent and eyes that go on forever and perfect teeth and a chest...

Maybe if I lived in reality I would be doing a lot better. I feel that I am nothing but scum.

Isn't this boring?

Labels: Christmas, Lorraine, Sex

It's been a good weekend.

Nice weather. My cold has subsided. Saw a very good movie and most of another good movie (I'll explain in a bit). "Doctor Who" was really good. Nothing much else to ask for...

Well... I suppose that's a lie, but the chance of getting any of that seems as likely as the Beatles reforming. Lorraine and I have still not talked about our problems. I'm not going to be bitter and I'm not going to fret about it. We are actually getting on just fine. I can wait until she wants to talk. It's a chickenshit way out, and I know it, but I don't want to initiate any more bad feeling.

Movies first. I'll do this in reverse. It'll make sense. I promise.

Today I went to see "Vertigo" at The Electric.



Although Hitchcock made good films before and after the 1950's, I think that the 50's were his true purple patch. Between 1950 and 1959 Hitchcock directed 11 movies. Here they are.

"Stage Fright" (1950).
"Strangers On A Train" (1951).
"I Confess" (1953).
"Dial M For Murder" (1954).
"Rear Window" (1954).
"To Catch A Thief" (1955).
"The Trouble With Harry" (1955).
"The Man Who Knew Too Much" (1956).
"The Wrong Man" (1956).
"Vertigo" (1958).
"North By Northwest" (1959).

I challenge you to find a single clunker on that list. You won't, because there aren't any. I know the mechanics of Hollywood in the 50's were different, and there was a much faster turnaround of product, but 11 great films (some true classics) by the same Director in 10 years is going some and more. He never won an Oscar, but Hitchcock was a really great Director. That fact should never be forgotten.

I have seen "Vertigo" on TV many a time, but never on the big screen. Going to The Electric today was a real treat. I've not been to The Electric for ages and I truly believe that the Independent cinemas' should be supported.

"Vertigo" might be Hitchcock's strangest film. Ostensibly it is a melodrama. (An ex-Detective, traumatised by the accidental death of a colleague, and suffering from a chronic fear of heights, is hired by an old friend to follow the friend's wife, as she has started behaving strangely.) Of course, the story is much deeper than that. "Vertigo" is about mental illness, obsession, betrayal and, yes, necrophilia. In a great career it could be James Stewart's greatest performance. "Vertigo" also looks beautiful and the colour scheme tells it's own story. (Red=health, green=illness.)

It's a masterpiece. 'Nuff said.

Yesterday I saw most of "The Lives Of Others" or "Das Leben der Anderen".



I could review the film, but I won't because I didn't see the whole film. The reason is that annoyingly the projector showing "Das Leben der Anderen" broke down with half an hour to go, and nobody at UGC Cinemas at Five Ways, Birmingham had a clue how to fix the problem. Need I say that there were some very angry people? The poor sacrificial lamb employee who processed the refunds looked like she was about to burst into tears. I felt sorry for her. What was the point of shouting at that poor girl? No point. Even though I possess an Unlimited UGC card, which allows me to see unlimited films at UGC Cinemas, I got a complimentary ticket for a future performance of any film I wanted to see. Lorraine said that she will make an effort to pick a film and we will see it together. This is good. We haven't seen a film together for ages.

From what I saw of it "Das Leben der Anderen" was good.

Actually, the failure to finish seeing "Das Leben der Anderen" has kind of worked in our favour. The Electric is showing the film later this week and had an offer whereby if you book for the 20:30 screening on Friday evening, you would get free admittance to the gig starting at 23:00 by The Electric Cinema Film Orchestra, which is a band formed by The Electric's owner, soundtrack composer Tom Lawes. The band will play live to specially cut footage from films like "Apocalypse Now", "Walk the Line", "The Wall", "Pulp Fiction" and "The Blues Brothers". It's either going to be awful or it's going to be brilliant.

I asked Lorraine if she would like to go. She said yes. Easy as that! I've booked a sofa seat. We are old people. We need probably need to sit and rest, although I might tap a foot.

So, we are doing things together, like a proper couple. That's good.

Labels: Lorraine, Movies, Music

Sore throat? Gone.
Drowsiness? Gone.
Cough? Still there. Still teeth shattering.
Sniffles? Still there, but reduced somewhat.

A marked improvement, methinks. I think that I will celebrate my good health tomorrow by going to see a movie. (Probably "Das Leben der Anderen" or "The Lives Of Others".) You know, something that I would never do.

At work I am now at a new desk. I am sitting between Tom Ninety and Ginger Foghorn. The intention is that as the time I spend on the old product gets less and less (yeah, right...), I will start to learn and support the new product. Tom and Ginger will be there to advise me. Tom is a sarcastic bugger, but so am I (I was only joking fuff), so we will be fine. But Ginger.... Oh dear...

Ginger is loud. So loud. She is opinionated. (Under the old manager we used to have a team meeting every Thursday. Some of us would play a game whereby we would put bets on how many times Ginger uttered the word "I". The record was 107 times in a two hour meeting. What's that? 53.5 times in an hour? Good Lord. I couldn't believe it when it happened.) She is a relentless self publicist. (Aren't all of us who have blogs?) She thinks she is fantastic. She thinks that she is better analyst than Lorraine (bollocks!), is crucially important to The Company and that the rest of us are just obstacles to her rise up The Company ladder. She is Wonder Woman!

I'm sure that she loves me as well.

I think that Lorraine put me next to Ginger to piss Ginger off. Lorraine knows that I am going to get maximum fun out of winding her up.

Or maybe Lorraine did it to piss me off...?

No. Can't be. Can it?

Something else that is also going to piss Ginger off is that I have been given a new PC. I didn't actually ask for a new PC, and there were probably other candidates (e.g. Ginger) who had a more pressing need than myself to get a new PC, but I'm not going to complain. The new PC is a hundred times better than the old piece of shit I have worked on for the last 5 years.

I spent a happy couple of hours this morning installing things on the PC that the mass brain of the Internal Infrastructure Team forgot to do. You know the kind of thing. Printers. Help Desk software. Modem...

Ooops. Got to go. The new series of "Peep Show" starts in 18 minutes. Genius.

Labels: Illness, The Company, Work

This will probably be an "Ashes To Ashes" spoiler, if you don't want to read any further.

I read today that the main protagonist of "Ashes To Ashes" (the female criminal profiler) will be revealed in the first episode to be the psychologist who treated Sam Tyler when he came out of his "coma".

So... She will know who Gene Hunt is, then?

Intriguing, eh? And that will definitely be my last word on "Ashes To Ashes" until they broadcast the bloody thing next year.

I had a bit of a rough day. I shouldn't have gone into work, but Lorraine needed the bodies.

I think today I slightly overdid it on the Ibuprofen, Lemsips, Paracetamol and Halls throat sweets, because I developed huge bags under my eyes, no feeling in my hands and was practically comatose at my desk. Lorraine saw that I was having problems, told me to go home (which I didn't) and then she got me some magic fruit (bananas) to eat. I actually felt better, but still managed to do fuck all at work.

Now, that did make me feel better.

Labels: Illness, Television

Extracts from a Dog's Diary.

8:00 am - Dog food! My favourite thing!
9:30 am - A car ride! My favourite thing!
9:40 am - A walk in the park! My favourite thing!
10:30 am - Got rubbed and petted! My favourite thing!
12:00 pm - Lunch! My favourite thing!
1:00 pm - Played in the back garden! My favourite thing!
3:00 pm - Wagged my tail! My favourite thing!
5:00 pm - Chewed bones! My favourite thing!
7:00 pm - Got to play ball! My favourite thing!
8:00 pm - Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favourite thing!
11:00 pm - Sleeping on the bed! My favourite thing!

Extracts from a Cat's Diary.

Day 983 of my captivity.

My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets. Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength. The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape. In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet.

Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates what I am capable of. However, they merely made condescending comments about what a "good little hunter" I am. Bastards!

There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to the power of "allergies." I must learn what this means, and how to use it to my advantage.

Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow -- but at the top of the stairs. I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches.

The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded. The bird has got to be an informant. I observe him communicate with the guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. My captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he is safe. For now...

Labels: Humour

Let's get the illness talk out of the way.

I have a cold. It's a spluttering, sniffing, coughing, retching, sweating hot and cold, kind of cold. Very miserable, very irritating, but only a cold and certainly not bad enough to keep me off work. Just as well because our section is light on it's feet, at the moment, what with Ginger Foghorn and Tom Ninety on holiday, Tina Noir in the States and Asif Aslam having called in sick for the week with gastric flu (which is almost certainly utter bollocks and everybody knows it). So, who was the idiot of a manager who signed off all of those simultaneous holiday's?

Er... That would be Lorraine.

True, she couldn't have known that James Cunt was going to send Tina Noir to the States to prop up the disintegrating Denver operation, and she couldn't have known that Asif was going to take a skive, could she?

Illness talk is now out of the way.

I wasn't here last night because I collapsed in front of the TV and stayed there until the finale of "Life On Mars" had finished.



If you're looking for spoilers, go away. You won't get any here. What I will say is that bar a couple of duff episodes over two years, "Life On Mars" has been a very enjoyable series. A good combination of comedy, drama and fantasy. Frankly, I'm sorry to see it go, but the BBC were correct in calling time on this incarnation after 16 episodes. Better to go out on a high.

Wasn't that ending interesting? Bittersweet, but kind of happy. I think that makes sense.

There was a conclusion. I half expected that the BBC would outrageously leave the explanation of the main Time Travel plot of "Life On Mars" hanging, but they didn't. Actually, there were two explanations given, each contradicting the other. (I was talking to a guy at work today who was quite beside himself trying to explain to me that the explanation given during the middle of the finale was the true one, and that the one at the end was a fantasy. I told him that he was an idiot and that he didn't understand the story at all. He got a bit upset at that....)

I hear that the master of political incorrectness, the mighty Gene Hunt, will be returning next year in a spin off "Ashes To Ashes", which is interesting in itself because...

Ah... No way to talk about it without spoilers. Let us just say that from what I've read "Ashes To Ashes" will be about a 21st century, female, criminal profiler, injured in a hostage situation, who wakes to find herself in London in 1981, working for Gene Hunt. But... If the explanation given at the end of "Life On Mars" is the true one, how can this be? What is the nature of Gene Hunt? Who is he? How can he exist for both Sam Tyler and this new person? Are they all connected in some way that will later become evident?

Or am I making too much of it?

You want to watch "Life On Mars" again, now, don't you? I know that I do.

Labels: Illness, Television

After the one line post on Friday, I decided to have a break. I didn't know how long the break was going to last for. Turns out it lasted for two days. There was every chance it might have lasted for longer.

I didn't have the energy or the inclination to write. I suppose I could have forced something out, but what would have been the point of that? No point.

Yawn... I am unwell again. I have developed a rash on both arms and on my chest and have been scratching like crazy. Luckily my handsome features are unaffected. I don't know what has caused the rash. A change of shower gel? (I'm on Obsession at the moment. I've used it before, with no problems.) Too much chocolate? (It's Easter, for God's sake! I eat chocolate at Easter. Sue me.) The change in the weather? (It might be a heat rash. I've changed to my thinner coat, but was wearing a thin blue jumper for a couple of days. I was a little bit over warm.) Was it Lorraine's cooking when Lorraine's step dad and dodgy missus turned up nearly unannounced on Saturday night? (We had turkey. It tasted OK.) Or maybe I am some suffering from some kind of tropical disease?

I'm coughing as well. Pain in the arse.

It's been a bit of a Danny Boyle festival in Residence Chez Pynchon. I have seen 5 films by the man in 4 days ("Shallow Grave", "Trainspotting", "28 Days Later", "A Life Less Ordinary" on TV and "Sunshine" at the cinema), but it has meant me staying up until the early hours and getting up later than normal, and it has fucked my internal clock up. I feel quite shagged, to be quite honest, and not in a good way.

No more illness talk.

Talking of "Sunshine"...



(There were other pictures I could have chosen, but doesn't Rose Byrne, even dressed down, look particularly tasty in the above picture?

By the way, did you know that she got down to the final two for the female lead in "Casino Royale"? You didn't know that? Well you do now. I think it could have worked, but Eva Green was still wonderful.)

Neil Sedaka once said something along the lines of the following. I remember watching the interview. It was a good one.

"There is nothing new in Rock and Roll. Styles come, styles go and styles repeat themselves. The important thing to remember is that when everything has been done, and everything has been tried, all that will be left are the great songs."

I thought that was a pretty incisive quote and it applies perfectly to "Sunshine".

Critics have commented that what Danny Boyle and Alex Garland have done is to make a movie by piercing together their favourite bits from other Science Fiction films. I have heard these films mentioned. "2001: A Space Odyssey", "Dark Star", "Event Horizon", "Alien", "Silent Running". I wouldn't disagree with one word of that assessment.

What I would say, and I don't like using this particular word because it is overused by overexcited blockbuster reviewers, is that "Sunshine" is absolutely Brilliant and as of this weekend is my favourite film of the year so far. It is an astonishing good film. Thoughtful and strange. "Sunshine" stuck in my head that much that I didn't want to see another film this weekend, for the fear of spoiling the feeling.

"Sunshine" is a mix of the hallucinatory feel of "2001: A Space Odyssey" (especially the ambiguous ending), the grungy, working spaceship dynamics of "Dark Star" (and the character Pinback is referenced), the race against time plotting of "Event Horizon", the tension and claustrophobia of "Alien" and the Eco awareness of "Silent Running". There are really great performances in this movie, but Chris Evans in particular is a real stand out as a cold and ruthless scientist. He completely buries his smart alec persona from "Fantastic Four" (which is a film I liked) and emerges as quite an interesting actor. There are amazing special effects (this movie was apparently made for 50 million dollars, which is frankly chicken feed) and is black and dark and weird.

It's a great song of familiar elements.

A few years ago Danny Boyle was in the frame to make "Alien: Resurrection". Such a shame. On this showing he should have been given the job.

Anything else?

Oh, yes. Lorraine and I haven't talked yet. We have kind of been stepping around each other all weekend and it just hasn't happened. I sat down with her this afternoon and she asked if it could wait until next weekend. She didn't want to get into anything seriously serious just before she goes back to work.

I said OK. What else could I say, but it is OK. We are getting on just fine, so long as I don't push the wrong buttons. That's good enough for the moment.

Labels: Illness, Lorraine, Movies

I saw "Sunshine". No time now. Back tomorrow.

Labels: Movies, Time

It's Thursday evening and I am about to write about things that I went to see last Saturday and Sunday. This is not organised. I'm not too sure where the week went to.

Saturday evening we went to see Mark Little in the one man play "Defending The Caveman" at the Alexander Theatre.



It's a comedy lecture about the differences between the sexes, and about how those differences cause men (and women, hah!) all sorts of problems. Nothing really all that radical in the play (basically men and women are different species and will never understand each other), but it was still really, really funny. Packed theatre as well, which was good to see.

Lorraine and I have Mark Little onstage twice before. The first time was years ago at the Midlands Art Centre when he was doing stand up comedy. The second time was when he played Leigh Bowery in the touring version of the Boy George musical "Taboo" at the Birmingham Hippodrome. Totally different productions, but both times he was excellent.

If all you know him for is as Joe Mangel in "Neighbours", or as the guy who replaced Chris Evans on "The Big Breakfast", don't be put off. Mark Little is a brilliant and effortless stage performer. Very enthusiastic, very energetic, very funny. He is a brilliant ad libber and "Defending The Caveman" allowed plenty of opportunity for that.

As of today's date the tour still has 6 dates to go. Well worth a trip to the theatre. A good night out.

On Sunday I went to see "The Good German".



I was going to say that "The Good German" is very much a curio for the director Steven Soderbergh, but to say that would have been utter nonsense because his entire career has been varied, unpredictable and contrary. And mostly good.

"The Good German" is a WWII thriller/melodrama with a twist in that it is shot in nearly exactly the same style as a film made in the 1940's. (I say nearly exactly, because the sex, violence and language would definitely have been nixed by the movie guardians at the time.) So, you get beautiful black and white photography, an overblown strings and horn soundtrack, typical, almost clunky stock footage of the Berlin of the time, back projection when characters are travelling in cars, etc.

... And it looks absolutely wonderful. A real triumph of the cinematographer's art. It really looks like a movie transported from the 1940's. It was a stroke of genius casting George Clooney and Cate Blanchett because Clooney looks like a 40's matinee idol and Blanchett looks like a 40's femme fatale. Strong performances by them both, as well as Tobey Maguire who is truly sneaky and loathsome (think Robert Walker in "Strangers On A Train").

But... "The Good German" is not an engaging film. Boring? No, maybe that's not the right word, but it didn't grab me. Maybe it was because, except for the Barman, there was not one sympathetic character in the entire movie. Blanchett's character is so cold, so distant, so aloof, that I couldn't get a handle on why Clooney's character was so obsessed with her. If there had been hints of warmth under that exterior I would have felt differently.

After several weeks I have finally finished "The Dark Tower V: Wolves Of The Calla" by Stephen King.

I have mixed feelings about it. Some of it is so brilliant that it burns like the sun. Other bits, well, go on a bit. The one thing you can never accuse Stephen King recently of is brevity. I did feel as though a shorter book might have been more effective. Good yarn, though. I will probably start "The Dark Tower VI: Song Of Susannah" in a couple of months.

Next up, "Fast Food Nation" by Eric Schlosser. I've been wanting to read it for ages. I heard recently that the Richard Linklater movie adaptation is out in this country next month, so it's the right time to start it.

Mark has left me some questions to answer. Difficult questions, truth be told. I need to consider my answers.

"Shallow Grave" is on in 30 minutes or so. I haven't watched that in years. A nice bit of Danny Boyle to set me up for "Sunshine" tomorrow.

Have a nice Easter, people.

Labels: Movies, Plays, Time

I really, really, really intended to be back yesterday, but it was not going to happen.

When I got home from work I ate some food, crashed and woke up in time for "C.S.I. Crime Scene Investigation" on Channel 5. I watched that and then an episode of the crime series "Smith" on ITV4.

(Quick sidebar. I don't know if anybody has heard of it, but "Smith" is really good. It's about a professional criminal, with a wife, family, commitments, etc. and his team, and is an interesting twist on the typical gang-pulls-a-heist scenario. "Smith" flopped on it's arse in the States. Only 7 episodes were made and only 3 of them were broadcast. ITV4 have bought all 7 episodes. I suppose the producers wanted to recoup some of their losses. Interesting cast, as well. The best known names are Ray Liotta, Virginia Madsen, Jonny Lee Miller and Amy Smart. Amazingly enough I've been most impressed with Amy Smart. Her character is ice cold, dangerous and brilliant. I thought she was good in "The Butterfly Effect", but who'd have thought that she would be good in anything else? End of sidebar.)

Then I went to bed.

Boring night, eh? But I needed just to vegetate.

Before I move on to other things, I need to play catch up on the weekend. I saw two films and a stage play. Some brief thoughts on one of the films now. I will finish the other reviews tomorrow. I have left it a bit late for this evening.

On Saturday morning I went to see "300".



Maybe this says more about me than it does the movie, but I left the "300" wanting to fight somebody. Preferably after having grown a beard, stripped to the waist, found some funky head gear, a six pack and a sword. I imagined myself rampaging down Broad Street, giving forth my best battle cry to the Saturday afternoon shoppers and Birmingham City Football Club fans.

They should show "300" to the England Football team before every game. We would be World Champions, no problem.

I loved "300". Of course the script is utter nonsense (it's all fascist Gung-Ho, Fight-To-The-Death, Never-Retreat-Never-Surrender, Fight-Them-On-The-Beaches-For-God-And-Country portentousness), but the action is thrilling and the cinematography is just beautiful. Absolutely stunning. "300" uses the same techniques of live actors against hyper-realistic backgrounds that was used so successfully in "Sin City", and it works just as well.

Wonderful film.

Labels: Movies, Television

I am seriously pissed off for all sorts of reasons, none of which I have the inclination to go into at this time. I want to write about the interesting things that have occupied me since Friday night.

So...

The Sugababes at the Birmingham NEC. Friday 30th March 2007.



Is it OK to plagiarise myself? Sure it is!

A couple of years ago, when I was somebody else, the mighty Swiss Toni asked me to compile a list of earworms for his now legendary Friday Earworms feature on his blog. On that list I had the mighty "Hole In The Head" by the Sugababes at #10 and I wrote the following.

10. The Sugababes - "Hole In The Head"

I've always loved The Sugababes, even after they kicked out their most attractive looking member (the foxy Siobhan Donaghy, growl.). I don't think that they have put a foot wrong with any of their single releases, and would go as far as to say that "Freak Like Me" was the best single of 2002 and was robbed at the Brits awards that year. I saw the video of this song this week when I was flicking through the music channels. Wonderful.

Nothing to change there, guys, except to say that being a fickle male, my attention has been caught in recent times by Siobhan Donaghy's (growl) replacement Heidi Range (double growl).

Ah... Heidi...

On Friday night there was a moment at the end of the performance of "Freak Like Me" when Heidi was in the centre of the stage, sideways to the audience, consumed by the flames being projected onto the backdrop, totally lost in the song, singing the 'Good for me...' line over and over again.

Ah... Heidi...

Ice Queen.
Devil.
Goddess.
Superstar.
Er... Scouser!

But I am getting ahead of myself.

My seat. Downstairs, row 11, centre. Perfect view. Most of the people in front of me were shorter than me. It was a miracle. (If you ever meet me you will realise exactly what a miracle it was. I am just a little bit taller than Michael J. Fox.) I sat between a girl, approximate age 15, and another girl, approximate age 8. They ignored me and I ignored them. It was probably for the best.

The audience. I was worried about the age of the audience. Pah! Nothing to worry about. You could say that it was an interesting mix. A lot of kids chaperoned by parents, young teens, teens, twenties, thirties and some old fogeys like me.

The support. Two support acts.

First up was a girl called Laura Critchley. Blonde, thin, white teeth. Looked like she had walked out of a Cadbury's flake advert. Nice voice, pleasant songs - a bit rocky, a bit folky a bit poppy, a bit cheesy. Connected with the audience - she got them clapping along. Laura Critchley was as boring as hell. Yawn.... Of no interest to me at all. Outrageously she seemed to mime to half of her songs. She was very good at miming.

Next up were a band called Dragonette. Imagine Nelly Furtado, singing like Cyndi Lauper, fronting the 80's band A Flock Of Seagulls and that will give you some idea of what Dragonette looked and sounded like. I have learnt to dislike many an 80's synth band (fuck you and your Linn Drum!), but I thought that Dragonette were brilliant. Dragonette didn't give a shit about connecting with the audience. Dragonette were there to play their songs and to make an impression. Lead singer Martina (I've looked her up!) wore a hat, a jacket, heels and a pair of shorts that were so short Kylie would have balked at wearing them. Martina strutted, she sang, she showed off her (admittedly) magnificent legs. Marvellous stuff. Dragonette will either be huge or will get absolutely nowhere.

... And then the Sugababes.

I thought they were wonderful. Absolutely fantastic. I really enjoyed it. I had a boogie. I blew my funky horn. I got on down...

Brilliant pop music. Brilliant band. They were better singers than I thought they would be from the records. (Keisha was just a fantastic singer. She surprised me.) The dance moves didn't always come off, but that was almost endearing. To me the Sugababes have always seemed like a bunch of girls who struck lucky. Trying to be cool, but betraying it by enjoying themselves a little bit too much. They just had smiles on their faces all night and waved to the fans. Cool pop stars don't do that kind of thing. (Heidi waved at me. She did.) At one point one of them said that this was their first arena tour and the NEC was the biggest audience they had ever played to. Enough to phase anyone.

They played practically everything on the "Greatest Hits" album and much more. You should know some of those great songs.

"Red Dress", "Round Round", "Overload", "Run For Cover", "Hole In The Head", "Push The Button", "Too Lost In You", "Caught In A Moment", "Stronger" (in front of a film of starving Africans, which then turned into a video for the Make Poverty History Campaign - it could have been cheesy, but it wasn't), "Ugly", "Freak Like Me", a cover of Primal Scream's "Rocks" that was just blistering.

All this from a group where, apparently, the members really dislike each other.

Great night. Do go and see them if you get the chance.

Hang on. What's that I hear...? It's some pop music!



Run out of time. Back tomorrow.

Labels: Music

Lorraine and I have not spoken. She has kept putting me off. I am fucking furious. Teeth clenching, nails in palm furious. To pacify me, this evening Lorraine said that we should both make a list of things that are bugging us and that we could then talk about it next Friday.

Fucking ridiculous. I don't need to make a list. I know what I want to say.

I have told Lorraine to go ahead and make her list, make it as long as she likes, and to "book a couple of hours for next Friday morning, because we are going to fucking talk, like it or not".

You might be interested in Lorraine's busy day, today.

Lorraine got up, washed, dressed, went to the hairdressers, came home, logged onto the work servers, worked for 8 hours, logged off and is now watching TV. She told me that she then intends to log back onto work for an "hour or two more" before she goes to bed.

Is it me, or is that describing the actions of somebody who is mentally ill?

Anyway, I don't intend to mention Lorraine again until next weekend. It will only be negative because she is seriously pissing me off.

Other than the above nonsense, I have had a mighty fine couple of days. The Sugababes on Friday evening, "300" on Saturday morning, "Defending The Caveman" on Saturday night and "The Good German" on Sunday afternoon.

Reviews will follow tomorrow. I am tired.

Labels: Lorraine