On How Life Is

Great though it is to live opposite the biggest Morrison's in central London (I don't get out much) it isn't a patch on visiting a provincial Asda store. Those of you who've seen episode 1, series 2 of "Phoenix Nights" (like I said, I don't get out much) but haven't experienced Asda first hand are missing out. As you go into Asda in Yeovil you are greeted by the welcoming smile of David, whose badge proclaims him "Happy to Help". David is I would say about 70 years old, but I suppose it's nice to get out of the house sometimes. David is standing just inside the entrance and has a microphone and muzak playing on a stereo behind him, and he seems to think he is hosting the cabaret on a cheap Mediterranean Saga holidays cruise. He is quite excited by today's offers.

"If you like Burger buns then we have eight - yes, eight in a pack here for just 48p! That's just 48p."

What more could you need?

"And if anyone needs a small fridge then we have one down the front here in a slightly damaged box for just £38!"

I wonder if many people came to the supermarket today thinking "Gosh, what I could really do with is a small fridge in a slightly damaged box."

My mum is scornful, telling me he isn't a patch on Arthur, who is in his late 70s and introduces the offers on Wednesday mornings.

Other than this, and the fact that VH1 are running a "Best of the 80s" weekend to which I have access at my parents' home, Somerset is a bit of a come-down aftre Friday night, Soho Theatre's first Script Slam, which Rachel and I went to with a large entourage of parents, friends and Mariachis band members. It was a bizarre event, where the writers all seemed to be either 14 or 24 with hardly anyone in between. The 14-year-olds' sketches showed that they had just discovered sex and swearing, and all ran something like "You f***ing stole my girl", "No I F***ing didn't", "Yes, you f***ing did!" Said teenagers laughed uproariously then proceeded to heckle through everyone else's, which were both brilliant and bizarre almost without exception, and, thankfully, because my mother was in tow, contained less swearing. One in particular made me smile (those who know me and have read this blog will know why.) The week the Pope dies, a woman who works in a bookies goes to her boss (who has an inexplicable but extremely good Lancashire accent), rosary in hand, to ask if she can have the day off for the funeral. When he says no she pleads "But it would mean so much to my family in Ireland."
"What family in Ireland?"
"You don't understand the pain of losing our spiritual leader."
"They'll find you another one."

Yep, Benedict XVI. But let's not go there again.

But as Rachel has said, I'm a happy bunny, having had a whole room of people laugh at my sketch (except the kid behind me whose mobile went off in the middle. I don't think he's seen "Trigger Happy TV", because he answered it and yelled "Hello? I'M IN A THEATRE!")

Hope you all enjoy the bank holiday.

Top 10 Films

I am an extremely shallow person at times. Lying on the floor following a talk about God (I won't go into the specifics) we are all listening to Rachmaninov, and musing on the Bible reading and poem we've just read. or rather, that's probably what everyone else is doing. My thought patterns go something like this:

"Jesus. Good bloke, really...I'm having such a nice time...I liked the poem....never heard that before...oh, I missed Jeff Buckley's version of "Hallelujah" off my blog...but maybe it was never a single...I'll check to see if it was...and "Ghost Town" was a damn good song...I forgot about it...but actually it probably wouldn't be my top ten...this classical music's alright....I should try it some time..."

And then someone asked me what my top ten films were, and of course, "You, the Public" has already had his say and chosen:

Star Wars / The Empire Strikes Back (1977/80) - George Lucas / Irvin Kershner
The Godfather / The Godfather Part II (1972/74) - Francis Ford Coppola
The Shawshank Redemption (1994) - Frank Darabont
Pulp Fiction (1994) - Quentin Tarantino
Some Like It Hot (1959) - Billy Wilder
Gladiator (2000) - Ridley Scott
It's a Wonderful Life (1946) - Frank Capra
Blade Runner (1982) - Ridley Scott
Schindler's List (1993) - Steven Spielberg
Goodfellas (1990) - Martin Scorsese

Could've been worse. Here are mine. What are yours?

1. Billy Elliot
2. Monty Python and the Holy Grail
3. Shrek (or Shrek 2. Both were surprisingly good.)
4. Pirates of the Caribbean
5. Apocalypse Now (just for the beginning.)
6. Some Like it Hot
7. The Motorcycle Diaries
8. Dr Strangelove
9. Boys Don't Cry (not exactly fun, but extremely good.)
10. Kind Hearts and Coronets

Although, that said, I have about ten more vying for the eleventh place, maybe higher. They include "You, the Public's" "Shawshank Redemption" and "The Big Lebowski", which was probably on after "You the Public's" bedtime.

Mary Whitehouse Should've Been Shot

A little harsh, perhaps, but only a little. I did intend this morning to write something serious and insightful, having spent the weekend being (almost) silent in a Benedictine Priory in Oxfordshire (quite the in thing, apparently, if you watch BBC2) trying to get closer to God. But then I remembered this article and realised I hadn't shared it with all of you yet.

The gist, if you have better things to do than read it (although that probably means you also have better things to do than reading this...) is that young children shouldn't be allowed to watch Dr Who because in one scene Dr Who is mean to a Dalek, and this might encourage children to pick on each other. Now, 1.) children at my primary school managed to pick on each other perfectly well without any encouragement and 2.) that someone won't let you play with her in the playground is not the same as a metal FICTIONAL TV villain on wheels that wants to take over the world (or whatever it is Daleks are meant to be doing.) Please give children just a little bit of credit!

Did you know that 95% of blackcurrants grown in the UK and Ireland become Ribena berries? Nor did I, which just goes to show you learn something new every day. My bottle of Ribena went on to tell me that "if you want to speak to a real Ribena Berry (well, someone who works for Ribena) then call our information line on...." Who calls these numbers? What do people say to them? Is there really a guy sitting in some office in Luton dressed as a giant blackcurant waiting for the phone to ring? Yet all consumer products seem to have "helplines" or "information lines". Helplines? What exactly can the Crest toothpaste line help me with? Do you think they give general advice, or does it have to be toothpaste related? I think this would make a brilliant university union society, where the members get together over a pint every week and ring the Maryland Cookies Customer Line. I wonder if anyone else has thought of that?

The Mariachis #2

Once again I am drinking extortionately-priced Mexican beer in a venue that's a cross between a theme bar in Disney World and the karaoke scene in "Boys Don't Cry". The venue is Borderline, and the supporting act are the Mariachis.

I will say it again: you have got to see this band. Richard Evans, their front man, seems to have the persona of Steve Harley and the dress sense of Adam Ant and the drummer looks a bit like he's studying Physics at Imperial College, but their skill is hard to match. Their keyboard player is amazing; their lead guitarist is even better; their singer is charisma incarnate (I like a guy who says "We're now going to play "Friday's Heroes"...Er, I was trying to think of something clever to say there, but I can't. So here it is.") Their talent stands out all the more on account of the fact that they're supporting Mogul. We are all supplied with Mogul stickers which we all diligently wear on our arms, making us look a bit like members of some Nazi division or other. Then the band comes on, and we surreptitiously take them off and discard them. Mogul are from the Barfly school of music and produce what can only be defined as "noise". Organised Noise, admittedly, but still noise. Unlike the Mariachis, though, they have a massive marketing operation behind them, including £3 off entry with one of their flyers and a table full of CDs and T-shirts. But if i heard their sound on radio one (who are currently plugging them) I wouldn't recognise it.

I cannot stress enough how much you must see the Mariachis. They have moved on from their country sound and are now much more rock, and just eclectic enough to suit everyone.

Thank you for the Music

Channel 4 has its moments. Not many of them, but it does have them. On Sunday I sat down to watch their take on the "100 best singles". The only problem? They were voted for by "You, the public".

My faith in "You, the public" is rapidly declining to the point of no return. Last time we entrusted anything to "You, the Public" you voted for George Galloway. Last time we entrusted you with anything slightly more trivial, the result was that "Wacky Races" only came 100th in Channel 4's "100 greatest cartoons", and that 80s epic "Mysterious Cities of Gold" didn't even feature.

Things went the same way on Sunday. "You, the Public" are so predictable that I could have told you the top five tracks without staying up past midnight to watch them. John Lennon and "Imagine" are always Number 1; Queen and "Bohemian Rhapsody" are always number 2. Occasionally they switch places to confuse me, but that's much variety as you get. "You, the Public" redeemed yourselves a little by passing on the Spice Girls and admitting you'd heard of Soft Cell, then you went and blew it putting Abba at number 4. Kate Bush was only number 49, and how did "You, the Public" miss the Smiths?!

To attempt to redress the balance at least a tiny bit, I thought I'd share with you the top 10 singles as voted for by "Me, the Individual"

1. Wuthering Heights - Kate Bush
2. White Riot - The Clash (if only for the guitar part in the middle)
3. Please, please please let me get what I want - The Smiths (though that might not have been a single, in which case I'll go for "Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now")
4. Rat Trap - Boomtown Rats (where are the Boomtown Rats in "You, the Public's" list?!)
5. Take Your Mama - Scissor Sisters (I'm listening to it at the moment and I like it.)
6. Fairytale of New York - The Pogues and Kirsty McColl. (Originally I had It's a Beautiful Day by Queen - if you're going to have a Queen song, at least have a good one - but I'd forgotten about "Fairytale", so excuse my adapting this list.)
7. Make Me Smile - Steve Harley and the Cockney Rebel
8. What a Wonderful World - Louis Armstrong
9. Don't Look Back in Anger - Oasis (please believe me when I say I picked Blur at aged 14, but I can't find a single song for the top 10, rather I like them as an entity)
10. Alice's Restaurant - Arlo Guthrie (it lasts over ten minutes and is absolute class.)

Actually, this wasn't the easiest exercise in the world. Also vying for 10th place were Joan Baez "Diamonds and Rust", Dream Academy's "Life in a Northern Town" and the Pistols' fantastic version of "My Way".

What say you, "You, the Blog community"?
Px

And now the end is near...

Two words: George Galloway. What happened?! The guy insists that he represents Old Labour. My arse. He represents himself. A friend of mine slept with the TV on on Thursday night so he could keep up to date with election news (I don't think he gets out much) and had a strange dream halfway through the night involving a manic, ranting Scotsman. He woke up the next morning to the sounds of Galloway's acceptance speech and thouhgt "Damn."
The election was almost worthwhile though as it resulted in this interview with Jeremy Paxman which was just a tad ridiculous! I also feel sorry for Oona King: she's one of the few MPs I've met and liked, and she's certainly the only Labour MP I've met and liked. On the up side, though, I woke up to the news that not only had Barbara Roche lost, she'd lost to a Lib Dem. That still makes me smile even now...

I spent most of friday playing on this interactive map and was somewhat depressed to discover that in most of the places where I/my family has lived the BNP not only fielded a candidate, but got enough votes to get their deposits back. Nick Griffin in Keighley got over 4000 votes. Overall just over 22,000 people voted BNP. I know in the grand scheme of things that isn't much, but then, they didn't put up candidates in all that many places to start with, so it's more than it seems. I probably know people in Blackburn who vote BNP. I probably know people who are members. And that is not a nice thought.

last thought, though: all the presenters were saying how every party won in some way: the Tories are getting back on their feet, the Lib Dems have more seats than ever before, Labour still has a majority... er, no. Actually they all lost. The Lib Dems and Tories lost the election and still are nowhere near being able to win, but the voters made it clear they hate the Labour Party. Oh, and, er, Veritas got bugger all votes. (Although I think Kilroy's mum might have voted for him...)

Comments welcome, as always...

Don't Panic!

I am getting worried. I have always prided myself on being one of those people who has kept a dignified distance from all things fantasy and sci-fi. Only recently I found myself in a bar discussing the merits of the Red Dwarf book "Better than Life", a spin-off of the TV series which only die-hard fans bother to read. Then I did a "Which Ankh Morpork City Watch Character Are You?" quiz. I got so hooked I found this one (incodentally I came out as Rincewind.) Now I am in a downward spiral, where I find myself looking forward to the final installment (or third, depending on how you look at it) of Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith. How do they make that nice Jedi evil? how does he turn into Darth Vader? Does Yoda go nuts again in this one? Because that bit was damn good last time. What's happening to me??!! One of my friends called it "Episode 3: Who gives a Shit?" I should agree with him... but I don't...

And then on Sunday I saw "The Hitchiker's Guide to the Galaxy". Technicallyrachel wasn't impressed, and I have to admit my reaction was a bit mixed. Which just goes to prove that I know the books far too well if I'm in a position to be critical. My first problem was that they didn't bother to explain why Ford Prefect was called Ford Prefect (in case you don't know, and actually give a damn, he studied Earth and found the most common name at the time was Ford Prefect, so chose it so he could blend in.) Their argument was apparently that the joke was dated. Fine. So call him Fodr Capri. Or Coca Cola. Whatever. My second problem was that there wasn't enough of the guide itself. The book is called "Hitchiker's Guide to the Galaxy" not "A Kids' Film in Which a Few Two-Dimensional Characters Meet Some Aliens and It All Goes A Bit Trippy". As for Marvin, well, you can't really go wrong with Marvin. He's a genuine personality prototype, after all. But I think he looked too cute, and I don't think he got enough lines. For that matter, nor did Bill Nighy. Not because the character should have done necessarily, but just because it was Bill Nighy.

There were two bits I liked: the Whale falls from the sky. He wonders what that thing is below him and decides to call it "ground". He wonders if it will be friends with him. Oddly, all the bowl of petunias thought was "not again". And I liked the theme tune - "So long, and thanks for all the fish" - very 1950s Broadway musical-esque. I'd forgotten quite how skippy the book was, but when a film can fail to be as off-the-wall as a book...hmm.

Welll, I can think of worse ways to spend a Sunday. But still...

What would YOU do with a cardboard cutout of Andrew Marr?

Obviously this question has been bothering me. So I am opening it to the floor and proomise a prize (not sure what, maybe a White Russian in the Hammer and Sickle?) to the person who comes up with the best suggestion. Answers on a postcard. Or in the Comments section.

So the electoral commission is considering lowering the voting age to sixteen in the hope that this will ease voter apathy. Now I don't know what most of you were like at sixteen (although come to think of it I'd be interested to know, especially if you have any photos...) but I seem to remember I was a guitar-strumming poetry-writing socialist vegetarian. Yes, yes, I know I'm still a guitar-strumming socialist, but I'm now a guitar-strumming socialist with a JOB, and I now eat meat and am relieved to tell you I've ditched the poetry.

At the same time, though, I was interested in politics. I would have voted had I been able to (although admittedly for some sort of socialist alliance). I do follow the argument that if you are old enough to work and pay taxes (and choose to smoke and have sex) you are old enough to put a cross in a box or spoil your ballot paper, and it seems a bit daft to me to take this opportunity away because of some fairly arbitrary age limit which means that when you are aged 17 and 264 days you are immature and the next day you are suddenly allowed to get married, vote, drink and watch "The Exorcist".

And if other 16 year olds think like I did, the Greens might even get in!

Thoughts?

Win a cardboard cutout of Andrew Marr!

... and a digital radio by entering this competition If you come second you just get the radio, which would probably be better. Not sure what I'd do with a cardboard cutout of Andrew Marr.

I actually saw a politician today!! The first one I've seen in real life since the election campaigning began! (Actually that isn't true, I did see Ken Livingstone walking across Waterloo Bridge the other day. But he wasn't campaigning.) Frank Dobson on the other hand was grinning inanely, wearing an enormous red rosette and parading up and down Chalk Farm Road. I think he was trying to get "down with the kids" as he seemed to be heading for the market. Or maybe he'd run out of kaftans. Beyond all my expectations he even put a leaflet through my door, although it was addressed to somebody else who lived in the block next door.

I quite like Frank Dobson. I am one of those people boring enough to have looked up his voting record, and I agree with it. Which puts me in a bit of a dilemma, as I don't want to vote Labour. My dad has come up with a good reason for voting Labour: Thatcher got in three times. He wants the same to happen to Blair. Not because he's any good, just to redress the balance. I see the point.

Talking of political satire (which I wasn't, but I am now), comedian Mark Thomas (who appeared at Heaven...sorry, the Covent Garden comedy club, held at Heaven but pretending it isn't, on Saturday night) is not a huge Blair fan either. Or a Tory fan. He did however have two good ideas to make sure the fox hunting ban is observed:
1. Those who hunt claim that it is a classless sport. Take them at their word. Get some blinged-up youths from South London Council estates to turn up to a hunt on nicked ponies and see what happens.
2. Give it to the middle classes who will destroy it with bureacracy.

Which made me smile.

We also saw Mitch Benn who is well worth going to see if you have the chance. His set included a song requesting Westlife die, and a Coldplay parody which lamented "Everything sounds like Coldplay now..." He has a point. Oh, and he's a Moz fan. Which helps. Alan Carr and the other bloke were good, but I can't remember his name....