Yer What?

Trenell R. Mance, Paula R. Ferdkoff, Nocturna Z. Geiter, Kelly R. Dombrowski, Edmund Grzeszkiewicz, Darlene Yarber, Ariel A. Utterback, Kyjuanzi Harris, Laconda McDonald, Tyrelle Lockett, Tyreesha Fraley, Sopheap Som, Wydell Feazell, Ashley M. Blumenshine.

What do all these people have in common? Besides having names that seem to have been  arrived at by the semi-random shuffling of Scrabble tiles? They all feature in the Chicago Tribune's  'Mugs In The News' gallery as recently arrested suspected felons and miscreants.

Note: Arrest does not imply guilt, and criminal charges are merely accusations. A defendant is presumed innocent unless proven guilty and convicted. Apart from having a made-up name, that is. My favourites  are Ashley M. Blumenshine and Ariel A. Utterback who sound like characters invented by W C Fields.  I have no advice on whether Sopheap is pronounced Soffeep or otherwise. Pictured is Darlene Yarber, who is accused of 'Impersonating a lawyer'. Impersonating a human, more like.

Disclaimer: Other ne'er-do-wells with routine names are also available.

Sorry Girls, He's Already Spoken For...

Pierre Breaks the Ice at Parties

[The banjo preamble:]
"Featuring Eric Clapton on ukulele banjo"...
http://www.bonhams.com/usa/auction/19226/lot/20/
Regards,
El Bonzo McBonzo.
That's all fine and dandy but what would I do with it apart from cornering the conversation at parties by exclaiming, "I've got Eric Clapton's banjo!"? 

Yours, as ever,

Balalaika Jim.

x x.

Pierre Breaks the Ice at Parties
- A poem by Frinton McFrinton Jnr
Some do it by wearing a bandeau
Others by cooking a flambeau.
You might dance the famous merango
Or discuss dismantling a quango.
But for Pierre these approaches are so-so
Because he's got Eric Clapton's old banjo.

copyright 2011 Frintonesque Productions (SA)

Madam Butterfly

Members of the Xorg Collective and invited guests were out and about yesterday for a works outing to The Royal Albert Hall for a performance of Puccini's opera Madam Butterfly; trip arranged by our eminent social secretary Fabmary. Most of us are pretty much unfamiliar with the piece and opera generally so it was a novel experience all round what with one thing and another.

The plot is fairly straightforward, concerning the duplicitous and exploitative nature of the male lead, American naval officer Lieutenant Pinkerton, who marries and abandons the fifteen-year old Japanese Madam Butterfly, only to return and take away their child to be brought up by his American wife. Meanwhile, Madam Butterfly has converted to Christianity because of her love for Pinkerton and as a result is shunned by her family and is all alone in the world apart from her faithful handmaiden. The result of this treacherous, bigamous and nefarious behaviour is inevitably the suicide of Madam Butterfly. Yep. It all ends in tears with the betrayed female lead tragically dead, which is quite common in opera, I believe. Any road up the libretto was in English, which was a bonus for us English-speaking opera novices. The story would seem to be an allegory for American imperialism, a big clue being that Pinkerton's Christian names are Benjamin Franklin and every time America is mentioned the theme for 'Stars and Stripes' is played by the orchestra.

Puccini's music is quite magnificent with some spiffing tunes plus an extended orchestral interlude between Acts 2 and 3, during which Butterfly stands motionless whilst waiting for Pinkerton. Being unfamiliar with the piece, I can't name the particular tunes but there is a recurring theme which belongs to Madam Butterfly which goes daah-dah-dah-dah-dah-dahdaaaah-dah-daaah that I liked. I guess I'll have to seek out a reasonably priced recording and get to know it better.

The performance itself was top-notch. My only complaint concerns the production. I guess the director figured 'Aha! The Albert Hall is round so we'll do it in-the-round!' Fair enough, but he was forgetting that although the theatre is round it was designed with the stage at one end so that everyone in the room would be able to see it. But with the stage in the middle of the hall and given the steep nature of the seating, part of the stage is obscured from part of the audience i.e. the people in the cheap seats in the upper circle. So we missed a fair bit of the action, which took place in the lower right quadrant of the round (see picture). So I'm deducting two points for that. I'm also deducting a point because the sound design could have been better and I wonder whether they could not have taken a chance and done without microphones altogether given that yer average opera singer can generally belt it out. Perhaps the acoustics of the hall would only allow that if the opera was staged conventionally. Smart venue though, with civilised toilets and helpful smiley staff.

Malt Whisky

Here's a handy thing that came to me in the post yesterday. A guide to the flavours of various brands of single malt whisky. Useful information to have if, like me, you don't have the budget to tour Scotland and experiment for yourself or, alternatively, to buy a bottle of each from your local hooch emporium and work your way through them whilst attempting to write notes.
The brand I have most recently consumed was Jura 10-year old. Light and delicate according to the chart, and I must say it went down a treat.

(From classic malts, where you can download a .pdf)
Click on the image to embigificate it.

Tribal leadership embroiled in ‘alternative goat’ electoral debate

(from Newsbiscuit)

‘It used to be so simple,’ said Ahmed, a returning officer. ‘The elders of a village would each put their best goat forward into a race, and the winning owner would lead the village and represent it at tribal level for the next five years. This first past the post system had its imperfections, but at least it produced a clear winner.’

Critics of the old system said it meant that owners of slower goats, while in a majority overall, never got a look in. While the single transferable goat system was rejected for being complex and incomprehensible, the alternative goat system was chosen because it was relatively simple and incomprehensible.

‘The way it works is each owner prepares a list of who they’d like to win if they don’t win themselves,’ said Amed. ‘We run the race and time each goat. If one doesn’t go faster than all the others put together I end up spending half the night working out the result, but basically if no one puts the best goat as second choice then one of the weaker goats will probably win.

‘As if that’s not bad enough, you then get the sheep-owning majority saying they are oppressed by a goat-owning minority. It’s ruminantocracy gone mad.’

Even with first past the post, the last contest left no clear winner at the tribal level, so the Gruff goat and Woolly goat parties had to form a coalition to keep out the Nanny goats. During the campaign the Woollies had offered reforms such as education for women, but given the chance to graze with the Gruffs they soon backtracked despite much bleating.

True Colours

Crawley Town play Manchester United in the FA Cup today (19 Feb kick off 17:15) and it is a time of deep inner conflict for the inhabitants of Crawley. Usually, they are mostly*  Manchester United supporters but on this occasion they have to pretend to be Crawley Town supporters, primarily so they can get tickets for the match, but also out of some kind of twisted  guilt-related feeling that perhaps they ought to at least try and identify with Crawley if only for a couple of hours.

Crawley is not a real place; it is a 'New Town' and exists principally as an adjunct to Gatwick airport and were it not for the residential presence of Stinky Pete and Fragrant Jeannine, there would be little or no reason to even mark it on the map. Simon Calder of The Independent explains that Crawley is an 'easy place to leave'.

Hitherto, the people of Crawley have either ignored the existence of their local football club or merely laughed at it. The club faced bankruptcy and closure only a year ago as a result of apparently being nothing more than a vehicle for the fraudulent business practices of its former owners. Typically, the club hadn't paid their taxes and underestimated the relentless character of the Taxman in pursuing the debt. It wasn't until March of last year that the High Court was convinced the club was in the clear. But now the club has a new sugar daddy who has provided funds for new players and has been able to persuade their manager to stay at the club. That's not to say Crawley Town play good football; the best you could say about them is that they show determination, but they are basically a bunch of cloggers.

Any road up, assuming Sir Alex doesn't pick a team of 14-year old trainees, it won't be long before the people of Crawley can revert to their usual loyalties and get back to supporting Manchester United. Having said that, I wouldn't mind at all if Manchester United were to be shown the door and took an early bath...

Note: Call it post-modern irony if you like but Crawley Town play in red and call themselves 'The Red Devils' - just like Manchester United (and several hundred other unoriginal plonkers).

* Inevitably, there will be a small contingent of fairweather Chelsea glory hunters

The Lovely Lady In The Big Farewell Sleep Lake

A favourite literary genre of mine is hard-boiled detective/crime fiction by writers such as Dashiel Hammet, James M Cain and Raymond Chandler. It emerged in America during The Great Depression and became transmogrified by the motion picture industry into the film noir genre in the 1940s and early 1950s, using black-and-white photography derived from the German expressionist school of cinematography (it says here). All low key, big shadows and under-lit. I don't know if there's a similar nomenclature that is applied to radio productions of this particular idiom but the BBC are currently undertaking dramatisations on Radio 4 of Raymond Chandler's novels. They've done The Big Sleep and the Lady in the Lake so far, and Farewell, My Lovely is scheduled for broadcast tomorrow (19 Feb). See the BBC iPlayer for details. Recommended!

"Neither of the two people in the room paid any attention to the way I came in, although only one of them was dead."

"He looked about as inconspicuous as a tarantula on a slice of angel food cake."

"It was a blonde. A blonde to make a bishop kick a hole in a stained-glass window."

"The girl gave him a look which ought to have stuck at least four inches out of his back."

" I needed a drink, I needed a lot of life insurance, I needed a vacation, I needed a home in the country. What I had was a coat, a hat and a gun. I put them on and went out of the room."

When Rock Music Were Rock Music

The recent death of Gary Moore got me thinking about Thin Lizzy. They were quite good for a while. Here they are in 1978, which was just about their peak. It all seemed to go wrong somehow, what with Phil Lynott and Gary Moore falling out, then making friends, and falling out, then Gary getting injured in a fight and so forth, and the drugs taking over. Oh Well.

...

Dicing With Death

It seems Gennaro Gattuso didn't do his homework before the match against Spurs. There's not many people would pick a fight with Joe Jordan no matter how aggrieved one might be with the way the match had gone. Older readers will recall Joe's days with Leeds and Man Utd when there were many casualties. There's a reason that Mr Jordan has so many teeth missing and it's not because he ate too many sweets as a child.

As Mr Redknapp said, "There would be only one winner there - Joe. I'd have my money on Joe. Of all the people to pick on, don't pick on Joe."

I'm Guessing Loaves and Fishes

(available at Abebooks)

Woss

I thought we'd seen the last of the execrable Jonathan Ross after his celebrated faux pas, perpetrated in cahoots with the equally obnoxious Russel Brand. But Woss has been gradually re-appearing here and there, only now wearing a somewhat absurd half-beard on his chin, making guest appearances on this and that TV/Radio programme and presenting awards shows. How and why was he rehabilitated and foisted upon us again? The man is a vacuous, inane, immature, waffling drip who spews out meaningless drivel whilst preening himself. Yeeeuchh.

Ay Oop!

Well, who'dathunkit? George Osbourne in surprise attack on the banks! And the bankers are livid, furious, shocked and angry. Poor dears.

It is probably the case that Osbourne has some political motive behind this move; pre-empting reaction to a wishy-washy agreement on the so-called 'Project Merlin' to restrain bonuses and increasing lending, or neutering Ed Balls. But I'll take it at face value for now and suggest he goes further and raises taxes for the other overpaid elements in society such as The Duke of Westminster, footballers, TV presenters, lawyers and local authority chief executives. Squeeze 'em till the pips squeak, Georgie Boy!

Tchaikovsky Symphony No. 6

I switched on the radio this morning speculatively, wondering what was happening and aye carumba there on BBC Radio 3 was Tchaikovsky's Symphony No.6, my most favouritest piece of classical music ever. Well so what, you might say. Well, this performance was a recording of the Leningrad Philharmonic conducted by Evgeny Mravinsky and this is the loudest and fastest I've ever heard it played. Fair rocketed along, in a most vigourous fashion. Further research revealed that it dates from 1960 and, sadly, yer man Mravinsky is now deceased. Apparently he was known for giving it some welly, unlike his western contemporaries and subsequent namby pambies.

You can listen to the Radio 3 programme in question on the BBC iPlayer. It features some other stuff - this programme is on every morning between 10 am and Noon. And you can buy the Evgeny Mravinsky recording at Amazon for a very reasonable £5.99 along with Symphonies 4 and 5. Bargain!

Forests

Here are just three reasons why the Government should forget its proposal to sell off our forests and woodlands:

1. It wasn't in either the Conservative or Liberal election manifesto, or the coalition agreement, so they have no political mandate for it.
2. It won't save the taxpayer any money in the long run. As reported in The Independent, according to the Department for the Environment, Food and Rural Affairs (DEFRA)  impact assessment, the proposal to transfer heritage forests – including the New Forest in Hampshire and the Forest of Dean in Gloucestershire – to a conservation charity would cost £507.9m but yield benefits of only £495.9m. Although the value of these woodlands on the open market is estimated at £220m, the report describes them as "unsellable at a political and practical level" and says the option is therefore "unviable". Selling or leasing the large-scale commercial woodlands would cost between £579.1m and £748.7m but yield benefits of between £573.1m and £737.8m, the document says. Selling the other "community woodlands", valued at £50m, would involve costs of £234.1m and bring in benefits amounting to only £231.9m. Ministers confirmed the raw figures but they assume there will be savings later because the private sector will be more 'efficient'. (Never mind that those savings won't accrue to the taxpayer but to the private sector.)
3. Everyone seems to be against the idea, including the Archbishop of Canterbury and 452,120 people who have signed the 38 Degrees campaign petition. The chairman of the BBC's 'Gardener's Question Time', Eric Robson, is against it too and that ought to be enough for anyone.

There's only one real reason why Caroline Spelman, the Secretary of State at DEFRA, wants to sell the forests off and that is because it would provide a short-term boost to her department's finances and enable her to achieve the spending targets set by the Treasury, so that the Government can claim at the next general election that they have tackled the structural deficit. All the justifications put forward by her and Cameron are just a load of old baloney, steeped in half-baked free market doctrine.

Well Done, Sherlock!

There has been a wealth of excellent contenders for the Well Done, Sherlock! award, awarded for outstanding performance in stating the bleeding obvious. And, as usual, it has been a difficult decision to choose between candidates who have all done very well.

In the field of economic policy, we've had The Institute of Fiscal Studies advising us that spending cuts and tax rises will affect poorer people most. The Financial Crisis Inquiry Commission in Washington has established that the credit crunch and ensuing recession was caused by failures in financial regulation, breakdowns in corporate governance, excessive borrowing and risk, and breaches in accountability and ethics.  Ah so, it wasn't the bad weather then. The consumer association Which? has discovered that staff in electrical goods shops (such as Comet and Currys) often lack basic knowledge about the stuff they are selling. The Royal Zoological Society has affirmed that tyrannosaurus rex was a predator and survived by hunting as well as scavenging (so that's what all those teeth are for!).

But the winner of the Well Done, Sherlock! award this time around goes to Alan Penn, director of the Virtual Reality Centre for the Built Environment at University College London (UCL)  for noticing that IKEA stores are arranged in such a way that as you walk round you are enticed to buy stuff you hadn't set out to buy.

"You have to follow a set path past what is effectively their catalogue in physical form," he said. "By the time you get to the warehouse where you can actually buy the stool or whatever's caught your eye, you're so impressed by how cheap it is that you end up getting it. You're directed through their marketplace area where a staggering amount of purchases are impulse buys, things like lightbulbs or a cheap casserole that you weren't planning on getting. The trick is that because the lay-out is so confusing you know you won't be able to go back and get it later, so you pop it in your trolley as you go past."

I thought at first that as this was reported in the Daily Mail it might have been made up by one of their ace reporters but it's flagged up on the UCL site so it must be true - IKEA lay out their shops to stimulate impulse buys. Well Done, Sherlock!

[Special mention for Elton John who has noticed that Cheryl Cole, The Saturdays, Girls Aloud and their ilk are all crap.]

So, It Wasn't Paul After All

(via Empire)

Bliar Wars: Revenge of the Humphreys

When I worked for the Government this happy chappy was, for a time, my supreme leader or 'Permanent Secretary' - the position occupied by Sir Humphrey in the well-known television comedy series, Yes Minister. We used to call him Wingnut Wilson, for obvious reasons (check out his lug'oles!) but he's more properly known as Lord Wilson of Dinton. He was a decent sort, if a tad remote, and we saw him only occasionally when he would tour the office and administer the metaphorical pat on the head and say "You're all doing very well". Wingnut went on to better things and became the Cabinet Secretary and Head of the Civil Service where he fell under the domain of our former Prime Minister Mr Tony Forked-Tongue Blair. Wingnut has been retired for some time now and was awarded the customary peerage, and sinecure at Cambridge University, but he has emerged from the depths of  academia and the House of Lords to advise the Iraq Inquiry that Mr Blair has not exactly been telling the truth as regards how well he kept his Cabinet colleagues informed on plans to invade Iraq. The Independent reports that:

'Far from keeping his Cabinet in the loop, Lord Wilson, the Cabinet Secretary from 1998 to 2002, said Mr Blair assured them in April 2002 that "nothing was imminent. I don't think anyone would have gone away thinking they had authorised a course of action that would lead to military action," Lord Wilson said.

Coincidentally, Wingnut's successor as Cabinet Secretary, Andrew Turnbull also served as my supreme leader for a time. He went for a more down-with-the-kids approach - he supported Tottenham Hotspur and held 'focus group' meetings with us plebs from time to time. At one of these, I induced an awkward silence when I berated t'management for the half-baked,  hare-brained and iniquitous performance pay scheme they had foisted upon us. But that's another story; Turnbull nevertheless got the Peerage and some directorships after retiring. The estimable Lord Turnbull has however corroborated Wingnut's view of Blair's attitude towards the Cabinet:

"The Prime Minister basically said, 'They knew the score.' That isn't borne out by what actually happened," he said. "By the summer [of 2002], he'd largely made up his mind at a time when his colleagues were a long way behind." He said Mr Blair had repeatedly put off discussing the policy of invading Iraq until shortly before military action began in March 2003. He also confirmed key policy papers detailing the possibility of military action against the Iraqi dictator were not shown to many Cabinet members.

So there we have it. Blair exposed in public by two former Humphreys, now members of The House of Lords, as a liar. It won't be just his ears that are burning.

That Would Explain It Then...

We Have Nothing To Fear But A Giant Muffin Falling On Our Heads

"How would you like to wear your face backwards?"

Farewell My Lovely. Funny film noir.

"'Okay Marlowe,' I said to myself. 'You're a tough guy. You've been sapped twice, choked, beaten silly with a gun, shot in the arm until you're crazy as a couple of waltzing mice. Now let's see you do something really tough - like putting your pants on.'" 


Grayle: It's a long story and not pretty. 
Marlowe: I got lots of time and I'm not squeamish. 


"She was a charming middle-aged lady with a face like a bucket of mud. I gave her a drink. She was a gal who'd take a drink, if she had to knock you down to get the bottle."


Marriott: I'm afraid I don't like your manner.
Marlowe: Yeah, I've had complaints about it, but it keeps getting worse.

Kafkaesque

I have received an invitation from The London Review of Books to attend a lecture at The British Museum entitled Who Owns Kafka? Now then, anyone who has read any of Franz Kafka's works will immediately find the concept of the ownership of yer man, or his works, a troubling thing to grapple with given the intrinsic tendency towards existential nihilism which permeates much of his writings. Not to mention the surreal imagery, depression and hopelessness.

Be that as it may, it seems the State of Israel is determined that because Kafka was Jewish then his works belong to Israel so they are taking legal action to secure Kafka's unpublished papers for the Israel National Library. But the woman who actually owns the unpublished papers, through inheritance, wants to sell them to a German museum - more info on the background at the BBC. The problem arises because Kafka's friend Max Brod disobeyed his instructions to burn all his papers after his death, and instead took them with him to Israel in 1939 and gave them to his secretary who left them to her daughters. This one will run and run and keep the lawyers happy as well as provide a nice little sideline for intellectuals, whether Jewish or not.

Lies, Damned Lies and Tony Blair

Tony Blair belongs to that most reprehensible species of liar; he believes his own lies. He's been exposed as a liar but continues with his lies. And so lie follows lie whilst we all stand flabbergasted at his self-delusion. There is not a scrap of decency left in him.

Blair now claims that the advice given to him by the Attorney General that war against Iraq was illegal was 'provisional'. No it wasn't; that was his considered advice but Blair and his cronies sidelined the Attorney General and subsequently bullied him to make him prevaricate and fudge it. The legal advice was only 'provisional' in the sense that Blair disagreed with it - and apparently still does.

And many more. Lies about weapons of mass destruction, exaggerating the threat posed by Iraq, lies about links with September 11 and Al'Qaeeda, etc etc when all along the objective was regime change - an objective set by George W Bush and his neo-con buddies back in 1998. You can check out the evidence for yourself at The Iraq Inquiry website, and there's a piece over at The Independent which pretty much sums up Blair's mendacious behaviour.

So It Goes

Bang Bang You're Dead (cont'd)

Reuters news agency reports that Eric Fuller, 63, who was shot in the knee on January 8 by Jared Loughner in Tucson, Arizona, objected to comments from Trent Humphries, leader of the conservative Tea Party political movement in Tucson. Fuller was one of 13 people injured when Loughner opened fire during a gathering of constituents of U.S. congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords. During a town hall meeting Fuller stood, turned and snapped a picture of Humphries,  yelled at him and said, 'You're dead.' Deputies arrested Fuller on charges of disorderly conduct and making a threat and, after consultation with a doctor,  took Fuller to a local hospital for an involuntary psychiatric evaluation.

Humphries is a leading light in the Tucson branch of the so-called 'Tea Party'. He had spoken out in response to allegations that outpourings by 'Tea Party' followers and right-wingers such as Sarah Palin have not only polarised American politics but might also have encouraged Loughner by their use of gun-toting imagery and language. Humphries said, amongst other things, that Congresswoman Giffords should bear responsilbility for the shooting because she arranged her constituency meeting without employing armed security guards. Humphries apparently believes armed security might somehow have deterred or restrained Loughner.

It is arguable whether or not that might be so, but in any case it is ironic that Humphries himself should now be exposed so easily to attack not by a nutter with a Glock 19 automatic pistol, but be 'shot' by a chap with a camera. Let's hope Humphries and his chums reflect on the fragility of their position.

Full marks to Mr Fuller!

University Challenge Update

Now that we have reached the quarter finals, I thought I'd give you all an update on how the household is doing.

Mum falls asleep a lot

I'm the only one on an upward trend. Dad is going downwards.

Harpo Picasso

One of these gentlemen is not wearing his usual curly wig and the other is looking typically inscrutable. Neither of them wrote 'Das Kapital' but I doubt if they were ever seen in the same room together. I think we should be told.

Fenderage

We have just taken delivery, on behalf of the estimable Tom Braggins, of a brand new Fender Hot Rod Deville 212 III amplifier.

Prior to handing it over to Mr Braggins, I've been trying it out using one's amended Epiphone Les Paul (DiMarzio pickups fitted). It sounds rather good - it's a 60 watt combo comprising two twelve inch speakers, with all the inimitable Fenderness of a Fender amplifier. An excellent range of sounds and it's very powerful too. With the use of the 'drive' and 'more drive' channel you can get all the distortion a sensible person might need, and the spring reverb is spiffing.The 'clean' sound is nice and crisp, or soft and warm, or anywhere in between.

Recommended!

Badjelly's Bad Christmas

You've only got today, tomorrow and the day after that left in which to go to Chickenshed Theatre to see their splendid show Badjelly's Bad Christmas (four performances remaining). The show, written by Jo Collins and David Carey of Chickenshed,  is based on Spike Milligan's various works and centred on the character of Badjelly the Witch who featured in a fairy story Spike wrote sometime in the early 1970s.

For a Christmas show it's not really very Christmassy which, as far as I'm concerned is A Good Thing. Chickenshed simply use the baubles for the Christmas tree as a plot device, and the plot isn't necessarily that important when you're dealing with Spike Milligan*. Like Chekhov, Mr Milligan was more about generating moments, ideas, jokes and glimpses of life. But, of course, as the show is for the family it has been given a beginning, middle and end and the goodies not only win in the end but the baddie turns good. You won't find that very often in Chekhov though.

Any road up, the show is rather good and makes excellent use of Spike's work. There's a lorra lorra laffs and excellent performances from the cast. It must have been quite a task for Chickenshed to organise. They have used four different rotas (or casts) so that the show could run for some sixty performances in all, there being a limit on how many shows children can do in any given period. Getting them rehearsed and confident in their roles requires not just commitment and discipline but also dedication. And it's that feeling of dedication that comes through the performance, reflecting Spike Milligan's own enthusiasm and child-like joy in having fun.

*Many of Spike's sketches for his Q5 TV show ended with the cast saying in unison 'What are we going to do now?' rather than a punchline. Chickenshed slip this line into the show so I'll give them a bonus point.

Thanks For All The Fish

Chief Tecchie and Drummage Operator, Our Phil, took members of the Xorg Collective out for a spiffing slap-up feast at our local Loch Fyne restaurant t'other night. Another 'chain' amongst others which are rendering our towns and cities anonymous but none the less providing good food, although not at what you might call bargain prices. Fortunately, El Presidente had a voucher which knocked £20 quids off the bill thereby relieving Phil of some of the pain.

I enjoyed a bowl of lobster bisque with aioli (garlic mayonnaise) and toast. The soup was quite good, although they could have been more generous with the toast. This was followed by a 'Seafood Selection' comprising salmon fillet, sea bass, a very large prawn and roast spuds all resting on some concoction or other. Again, I felt short-changed by the accompaniment but the fish itself was excellent. Items consumed by my colleagues included whitebait, chilli prawns, Goan fish curry, sea bream and lemon sole. Very good overall experience, and the main element - the fish - is spiffing. But several points deducted because they charge you £1.50 extra for bread which is a downright rip off.

Bang Bang You're Dead

There I was, naively thinking this latest shooting incident in America might make them think more seriously about gun control. Not a bit of it. The Washington Post reports a 60% rise in the sale of handguns in Arizona, 65% in Ohio, 33% in New York etc etc. Mind you, the national average rise is only 5% so presumably there are some places where people aren't quite so paranoid and gun-happy. The Land of The Free; but they all seem to be so scared of each other!

Just think of all those guns swishing about in America - even if they did bring in some controls now, how would the authorities ever manage to collect them all in? I suppose that as Americans are very fond of money the authorities could offer compensation but as a Glock 19 costs $499 that's going to add up to a tidy sum - estimates vary but the Violence Policy Centre quotes a figure of 65 million as the number of handguns in America. Then there's all the other firearms; Uzi machine guns, shotguns, rifles etc.

But what can you expect from a society which stole its country from its indigenous people. Violently. With guns.
Addendum: US gun crime statistics from The Guardian. 

Twiddlin' the Night Away

A glimpse of The Boy Wonder at work with his mixing desk and various gubbinses, during the interval.

How To Make A Time Machine

Phase One: You Need a Black Hole

If there isn't one handy, bring a lot of stars together in one place and squeeze them within the Schwarzchild Radius for the whole heap of stars. You'll need about 1,000 stars like our sun to make a hole big enough to work with.

(Schwarzchild's critical black hole radius is equal to an object's mass multiplied by twice the constant of gravity and divided by the speed of light squared).

Phase Two: Pop Through The Wormhole

Drive your spaceship carefully into the Black Hole, through the space/time tunnel (or wormhole) and out the other end. You will now be in a different place and a different time. Find a large mass (e.g. a big planet) to dangle in front of the wormhole's mouth.

(Check whether the planet is inhabited by sentient beings. Inter-galactic law may require relocation strategies to be in place prior to dangle).

Phase Three: Pull The Wormhole along

Dangling the planet in front of the wormhole, tow it back to where you started - gravity will cause the wormhole to follow like a donkey following a carrot. As soon as both ends of the wormhole are near one another drive round and round in a circle.

Phase Four: Twist The Ends of The Wormhole

This is where it gets tricky (as opposed to merely difficult).

You will recall that Einstein predicted gravitational time dilation in 1907 as part of his Theory of Relativity. This phenomenon has since been confirmed by experiment  (see American Physical Society: moving clocks run slow relative to one another) so it ought to work, fingers crossed, touch wood etc. but you will need to be patient.

Whilst one wormhole mouth is circling around, time is passing more slowly for it. So keep twisting for as long as you want, as fast as you need, to make a time difference between the two ends of the wormhole. Each twist increases the time difference and the faster the twisting is done, the greater the difference. When you stop, and have parked the moving mouth down next to the original black hole, the mouth you moved will now be a set distance in time behind the other mouth (the Black Hole). Don't worry; each end of the wormhole will have the same gravitational influence so they will balance each other out and you won't get dragged into a continuum paradox.

Phase Five: Using Your Time Machine

Suppose you have set a time difference of a year. Drive in one mouth and you come out of the other a year in the future. Go round as often as you like, jumping another year on each occasion. To get home, go round the other way, jumping backward one year on each journey.

Important: You can never go back further than the time when you built the Black Hole. If you do, then you will be in another universe with a different time line, where it would be possible for you to murder your own grandfather and still be alive in the universe where you started from. But things might not be quite the 'same'. Better to stay in the universe where you are, so you only have one time line to remember and your mum won't be quite so upset with you.

Keats and Chapman Examine the Avifauna

Keats popped out one afternoon to the off-licence and encountered Chapman, who was dressed in a camouflaged hat and jacket and rubber boots and was carrying binoculars and a telescope.
Said Keats "Where are you off to?"
Chapman replied "I'm off to the marshes. I've taken up orthinothonology."
"Oh!" said Keats. "you sound like a word-botcher."

2nd Amendment

This is a Glock 19 automatic pistol as used by Jared Loughner in his shooting spree in Arizona. As with all Glock pistols it features 'safe action' which is a euphemism for being able to shoot many rounds quickly when you want to as opposed to when you drop the gun on the floor. Its magazine can hold up to 33 rounds; Mr Loughner apparently had two such magazines with him. The Glock 19 is described as 'compact' which means it is easily concealed. Interestingly, although  it is reported that Loughner had a history of drug arrests, had been excluded from school and college and was rejected by the Army because of his 'instability', he was able to obtain and carry this weapon legally in Arizona. Maybe the Americans ought to examine their gun culture and revisit their constitutional right to bear arms. A person with a Glock 19 can shoot more people, more easily and more quickly than a person without one. This might be useful for a militia when repelling invaders but it is a bit of a risk when in the hands of a politically (or otherwise) motivated nutter.

Frank Zappa:The Black Page

This tune exists in several versions in Mr Zappa's output and was a regular feature in his concerts. Here it is played by a young lady in The Young Musician of The Year Competition. Go here for more information on Mr Zappa's recordings.

Books and Stuff

Well. I'm still plodding through Chekhov's short stories (currently The New Villa) but, meanwhile, I have re-visited Terry Pratchett's first two Discworld books The Colour of Magic and The Light Fantastic. Interesting to note that he uses less 'magic' in the later books; or rather the weird stuff is not explained so explicitly as magic - it's just weird stuff and his readership know what's what anyway.

Another couple of volumes of Spike Milligan's memoirs. I'm up to where the War is over and he's been demobbed. I'm not sure if I quite believe everything he says, particularly in the detailed way he reports it. But I guess that's autobiographies for you - not necessarily made up but embellished with a bit of poetic licence. Having said that, he is honest in acknowledging where his former comrades' recollections are different.

A Judge Dredd graphic novel entitled 'The Pit' which describes the problems inherent in having a public housing policy which employs 'sink estates' to deal with problem families. It also looks at the inevitability of corruption within the justice system.

The London Review of Books. My sister-in-law nominated me for a free 12-month subscription for this learned and erudite journal. It is not necessary to have read, or even intend to read, the books under consideration as the reviews are lengthy and are more like essays so you know what's going on and, assuming you trust the reviewer, therefore, Bob's yer Uncle. There are also free-standing articles on this and that. Requires concentration though.

Next up is 'The Adventures of Mr Thake' by Beachcomber (J B Morton). Should be a laugh. BBC Radio 4 have been broadcasting some of this book in their afternoon reading slot. It's interesting to note that Beachcomber's writings were originally published in The Daily Express, back when it was more like a newspaper. That kind of thing doesn't happen these days. Now it's all celebrities, gossip and back-biting and just plain lies that editors seem to think we find entertaining.

Meanwhile, El Presidente has gone all classic A Level on us and is reading 'Mary Barton' by Elizabeth Gaskell. Recommended, but a bit of a task to read so if you'd rather listen to it being read (for example, whilst doing the ironing or darning socks) go to Librivox for a free download. Sheds light on 19th Century industrialised Britain, The Chartists and Trade Unions so it counts as social history as well as literature which is probably why it is on the A Level syllabus, like.

Bah Gum It Were A Bit Parky!

Herewith, edited highlights of the Xorg Collective's outward bound weekend in Wonderful Waberthwaite.

Bah Christmas Carol

It's that time of year so the broadcast media are trotting out the usual favourites and old cliches which is fair enough, I suppose. But it seems that this year they've gone overboard on Charles Dickens' 'A Christmas Carol'. As well as straight renderings of the story on BBC Radio (with Michael Gough) and on TV (with Patrick Stewart),  amongst others, and readings of the original text on BBC School radio, we've had a plethora of 're-imaginings'. Catherine Tate, Dr Who, Marley Was Dead, More or Less (a statistics programme!), I'm Sorry I Haven't a Christmas Carol, Blackadder, The Muppets and many more have all had a bash at it. You'd think these creative types would get together earlier in the year and trade schedules so that they don't all end up doing the same thing and boring the pants off old curmudgeons like myself.

Bra Burning

I could have put my bra in the "freedom trash can" but I burnt it instead.

Invincible Teabag v. Missing Sock Syndrome

You are probably familiar with the Missing Sock Syndrome which, no matter how careful and methodical you are, causes odd socks to disappear when processed through the washing machine and tumble dryer. It's an inescapable part of life - socks have their own reality which occasionally departs from ours. But imagine my surprise when, after unloading the tumble dryer,  instead of losing socks we had gained two fully intact teabags!

Enquiries are ongoing but the suspicion is that our Phil is the root cause of the phenomenon. He has been known to grab teabags on his way out to work and stuff them in his pocket, for later use. It seems the teabags somewhow escaped from Phil's pantaloons during the washing/drying process and proceeded to flavour everything with green tea and lemon. Considering that in this load of washing we did not lose any socks, perhaps we have accidentally hit upon the secret of restraining sock reality...

John Cage As Slow aS Possible

You've probably heard of John Cage because of the recent campaign to get his composition  4'33"  to the top of the charts and forestall the latest Simon Cowell monstrosity from being number one at Xmas. I have no idea how that campaign went, nor do I care who is number one on the charts or whether Simon Cowell lives or dies. But we need more people like John Cage.

Another of Cage's projects is the ORGAN2/ASLSP As Slow aS Possible taking place at the church of St. Burchardi in Halberstadt. An organ is being gradually constructed and occasionally changing notes - the project is not scheduled to finish for 639 years and 2010 was notable because in July the note changed. (See also The John Cage Trust Blog.)

Let's hope nobody decides to have another war and drops a bomb on Halberstadt meanwhile.

The Ethnicity of Social Decline

Years ago, I was at school with a chap named Paul Vallely who is now a writer and occasional broadcaster. He has written in The Independent about the success or otherwise of multi-culturalism in Luton. It seems that the people there mostly have a positive outlook but that there is an underlying wariness about problems being exaggerated and distorted by extremists and the media. But his article highlights the rapid social change there has been in the last forty years or so, which I think is probably reflected throughout the UK. In any case, Paul is clear about where reponsibility for the current social decline lies:

• 'The globalisation of economics has been driven by a distinctly Anglo-Saxon form of capitalism. The individualism which flourished with the affluence of the 1960s after a decade of postwar austerity had nothing to do with ethnic minorities. The decline of forms of social solidarity including the family, trade unions and the church are greater among the white than minority communities. The ethic of materialism which has undermined notions of society and the common good – and turned us from citizens into consumers – has been led by whites. So was the rise of secular scientific rationalism. So was the Thatcherite elevation of the free market above traditional values in conservatism. So is the tabloid culture of sex, fear, greed and speed evidenced in everything from the Sun to the loathsome Jeremy Clarkson.'

He's got a point there. Discuss.

Five Go Wild in Waberthwaite

Members of the Xorg Collective have just returned from a weekend works outing to Waberthwaite. (It used to be in Cumberland but is now apparently part of a postal district associated with Ravenglass). Here's the Ordnance Survey map. We stayed at Stonefold Cottage, a converted barn on Grange farm which lies between Waberthwaite Fell and Stainton Fell.

As it happened, we chose the weekend when the British Isles were gripped by heavy snowfall and freezing temperatures which meant that once we had driven to Stonefold Cottage, we couldn't drive out as we wouldn't have been able to drive back again up the snow-covered hill. So we were confined to the immediate area, in the middle of nowhere surrounded by sheep, and our pencilled in plans for excursions to Coniston, Ravenglass, Jennings' Brewery, Sca Fell and so forth came to nothing. Our Associate Director, Christian, is not easily deterred however and he was up at the crack of dawn to walk up Waberthwaite Fell during Saturday morning's blizzard. The rest of us braved a walk for a couple of hours later in the day until sunset. On Sunday there was no wind or further snow but bright sunshine, so we tackled nearby Stainton Fell and reached Stainton Tower. (See photo; El Presidente remained back at base camp in the warm). We stopped off at Coniston Water on our way back south, where the view across the lake was stunning; completely windless at minus 7 degrees Celsius, causing water vapour to hover over the smooth water.

8 out of 10 for the cottage - points deducted for the lack of an open fire and the rate at which the electricity meter gobbled up the £1 coins. Half a point added back in for the hospitable welcome from the proprietor who set the table for afternoon tea and provided mince pies and cakes. Many thanks to our Deputy Chief Assistant Leader for organising the trip.

Our Guest Speaker for Tonight: Sylvester Stallone

Motion Typography: Rocky Balboa Inspirational Speech from Kyle Kargov on Vimeo.

Lurgi (cont'd p.194)

Further groans. I've had this cold/flu virus doodad thingy for over two weeks now. It's a persistent little bugger of a virus; initially it's pretty much as you'd expect with the usual symptoms and a couple of days collapsed in bed. But it just won't go away - you start to feel a bit better, then it comes back and hits you again. Yesterday, I thought aha at last I'm getting over it, then this morning here I am half-dead after a coughing and sneezing episode of Biblical proportions.

The virus seems to be working its way around the neighbourhood with varying degrees of severity; conversations yesterday revealed two more victims. There has, however, been a positive side to the experience namely the soothing drink prescribed by my mother-in-law (olive oil, honey, whisky in equal measures whisked together) which quietens the symptoms at bedtime. Replace the whisky with dark rum for a more warming variation.

Ho hum.

Captain Beefheart

Captain Beefheart, aka Don Van Vliet, died last week. I have been a fan  of his stuff for ages, ever since I heard his first album 'Safe as Milk' - a friend had bought it on import from the USA after John Peel played a couple of tracks on the radio. Then came 'Strictly Personal' and 'Trout Mask Replica' which I reckoned were masterpieces but most people couldn't deal with. I remember being really excited about 'Trout Mask Replica' when it was released and playing it to a group of friends who all looked askance at me and questioned my sanity. Beefheart was one of those people who you either loved or just couldn't figure out. A synthesis of blues, jazz, rock, poetry, primitivism and something hitherto unkown from who knows where. And he was nuts.

You can see some of his paintings at Bill Lowe Gallery and get a complete biography, discography, photos etc at The Captain Beefheart Radio Station. Listen to some of his stuff at YouTube. The other two essential albums you should buy are 'Clear Spot' and 'Bat Chain Puller'.

Well Done, Sherlock!

You've heard of the Nobel Peace Prize and the Blue Peter Badge. The Oscars, BAFTAs, KCGB, MBE, Medal of Honour and the CDM (Cadbury's Dairy Milk). We here at Xorg Inter-Galactic, however, occasionally make a special award to those amongst us who make a startling contribution to the breadth of human knowledge and experience by pointing out The Bleeding Obvious. Today's lucky recipient of the Well Done, Sherlock! Award is this sorry-looking individual, Sir Philip Hamilton, the Chairman of the Royal Bank of Scotland (RBS). He has helpfully pointed out that the directors of RBS failed in their fiduciary duty, leading to the collapse of the bank and consequent bail-out by the taxpayer. No kidding, Sir Phil! Erm, I think we'd spotted that one!
Of course, this comes to us via Wikileaks and not officially, and no action is being taken against the idiots concerned who have happily pocketed their bonuses and left the ship.

Short Stories

Attention all those of a literary bent. The Guardian is currently running a series featuring authors reading a favourite short story. You can download them individually as mp3 files or subscribe to the podcast via iTunes. The podcast is the simplest way as it happens automatically once you've subscribed. There is to be twelve altogether in the run-up to Yuletide, and we've reached number four already so get yer skates on.

Lurgi

Groan. I've been laid low for the past few days with some kind of cold/flu or generally winterish type of grottyness. Condition improving, thanks to proprietary drugs and inhalation of menthol and eucalyptus, but also to a patent home remedy supplied by my mother-in-law:

• Mix together one tablespoon each of olive oil, honey and whisky. Beat with a fork until well amalgamated and drink in a couple of gulps. Spiffing! The olive oil and honey ease the throat and the whisky anaesthetises the consciousness, thereby overcoming the symptoms and aiding sleep.

Tuition Fees

I doubt if many Liberal Democrats are looking this way but I thought they may wish to consider the following:

We are told that the essential justification for raising tuition fees is that the nation's finances are in a parlous state and so payment from central government funds to universities have to be cut by 40% in order to meet the Governments four-year plan for fixing the structural deficit. Consequently, tuition fees have to rise to make up the shortfall. The cut to universites and the increase in fees are to be introduced in September 2012 which will be year 3 in the plan. It is a matter of conjecture how well the economy will have recovered by then but the Government otherwise tell us that the private sector will be doing its thing and getting us back on track so maybe such a drastic cut won't be necessary after all. But in any case, students in September 2012 will be borrowing the money to pay the fees from the government and not paying anything back until some years later and even then repayment will be gradual. So isn't the government, in cash flow terms, still spending the same as it would have had the cut not been implemented? The difference is merely one of accounting practice, enabling the Government to take that expenditure off its books in terms of current revenue even though in years 3 and 4 of the plan they have actually spent what would have been spent anyway without the cuts.

But meanwhile, of course, it is a step forward in Conservative ideological terms i.e. the privatisation of education.

European Cup

Here are Spurs in an earlier incarnation beating Dukla Prague to make it into the semi-final of the European Cup in 1962. Spurs lost to Benfica, the eventual cup winners, in the semi-final after some controversial refereeing decisions which were probably the result of poor eyesight. Note that although the game was played in the snow, the players are not wearing snoods, gloves or tights. (Click on the picture to be taken to the Pathe newsreel. Sorry, but you get an advert before the clip).

VERY HOT SPURS (SPURS V DUKLA)

FIFA: The Stink Just Gets Stinkier and Stinkier

Vladimir Putin is a sly devil and no mistake. The Independent reports that Vyacheslav Koloskov of the Russian bid team for the 2018 World Cup has revealed that Putin had direct talks in the weeks before the FIFA meeting with at least a third of the executive; that would be seven members (and votes). The same number that coincidentally went back on promises to vote for the England bid. Bit of a giveaway, that.

Putin subsequently went all snotty about David Cameron, Prince William and David Beckham assisting with the England presentation.

Meanwhile, Jack Warner complains about the British media having insulted the FIFA executive by publishing allegations of skullduggery and this having led to members not voting for the England bid. Erm, I think we've established that there has been skullduggery, Jack! (Looks like a duck, quacks like a duck etc etc).

Now, if only Wikileaks can get hold of the paperwork...

They're Out To Get You

The Powers That Be are certainly upset with yer man Julian Assange of Wikileaks:

• A trumped up set of sexual assault charges;
• A concerted hacking attack on the Wikileaks website;
• One ISP after another drops Wikileaks;
• PayPal and a Swiss bank freeze Assange's and Wikileaks' accounts;
• The Magistrates in London refuse bail.

What if he'd done something really serious, like bring the international banking system to the brink of collapse or start a war in Iraq for no good reason? I expect he'd really be in trouble then!

Of course the irony is that Wikileaks haven't told us anything we either didn't know already or had at least suspected was going on. And 3 million people already had access to the information anyway so it wouldn't have been difficult for an 'enemy' to get hold of it, if they hadn't already. Maybe The Powers That Be, whether it's the USA National Security Agency, MI6 or whoever, could be better employed spending taxpayers time and money elsewhere?

Treachery!

There's an interesting report in The Independent explaining how and why England's bid for the 2018 World Cup was rejected in such a humiliating fashion. First, Sepp Blatter stuck the knife in and secondly, a number of Executive members went back on their promises to vote for England. The guilty men are:

Chung Moon Joon (South Korea), Marios Lefkaritis (Cyprus), Jacques Anouma (Ivory Coast), Jack Warner (Trinidad), Chuck Blazer (USA), Senes Erzik (Turkey), and Rafael Salguero (Guatemala).

So with the two votes England did get (from England and Cameroon) that should have been nine votes which would have brought England into the second round of voting. What we don't know is who the treacherous voters did actually vote for but I suspect it was Russia. We can also speculate on whether the Russian fix went in before or after the presentations i.e.  were the bastards lying all along. No doubt David Cameron is used to being lied to, and David Beckham has been around the block a couple of times so he won't be surprised. But I think this will have been an education for Prince William.

I Wish I Never Saw The Sunshine

When it comes to epic productions there never was anyone better than Phil Spector, the Master of Darkness. But he also had a gift for writing and arranging. This song was co-written by The Dark Lord with Ellie Greenwich and Jeff Barry and it perfectly conjures up the heartbreak, self-pity and depression brought on by the collapse of a teenage romance. Listen closely; there's about seven blokes playing drums, at least two basses, a couple of pianos in another room, an orchestra hyped up, half a dozen backing vocals, and it's all bounced down on to two tracks. The tune in the chorus is a killer and as for the lyrics, I rest my case:

Ooooh baby,
Ooooh baby,
I wish I never saw the sunshine,
I wish I never saw the sunshine,
An' if I never saw the sunshine baby,
Then maybe I wouldn't mind the rain.
Ooooh this pain,
And I know there would not be,
This cloud that's over me,
Everywhere I go.

The bit that gets me is about 45 seconds in, just before the first chorus when Ronnie Spector sings "Oooooh baby..." Gulp! And then the coda at the end..

We Wuz Robbed!

FIFA's decision to award the World Cup to Russia in 2018 and Qatar in 2022 is most peculiar. Although football is well established in Russia, their facilities are not up to scratch and neither is the infrastructure. Moreover, racism is rife in Russia, the rule of law is questionable and corruption is pretty much an everyday part  of life. Qatar hasn't got any football stadiums - well, OK, maybe it's got one - and 96% of its territory is sand. The temperature during summer, in the shade, is routinely 50 degrees celsius. Can you (or anyone in the FIFA executive) name any Qatari football clubs or players? And if FIFA's aim was to spread football and the World Cup to 'new frontiers' why encourage countries like England and USA to apply?

The Americans have a saying 'If it looks like a duck, quacks like a duck and walks like a duck, it probably is a duck.' So we must conclude that this whole episode had been a fix from start to finish and England, Spain, Australia, USA etc never had a chance. You were wasting your time and money lads; it was all a set-up. That's why Putin didn't bother canvassing - he knew it was in the bag. That's why Qatar did its presentation in Arabic - they knew it was in the bag. The tragedy is, of course, that it leaves us feeling very cynical indeed about FIFA and the bent old bottom-feeders who administrate football at the highest level.

A Spot of Bad Weather

Here we go again. In the winter, the weather turns cold and there is snow in varying amounts in various places and general chaos ensues; schools are closed, transport is disrupted and gross Domestic Product (GDP) drops by 2%. And The Ministry of Alarm and Despondency (MAD) is caught unawares yet again.

Now then, this might just be a function of a faulty memory or the rosy glow of youth remembered but, as I recall it, it always got cold and snowed during winter in the North East where I grew up but I don't remember school closures or transport chaos, or even anyone being surprised by it. Even during the winter of 1963 which went on for ages. Of course, as a youth one enjoyed the snow and ignored any inconvenience caused by it - I was always fortunate enough to have a warm house to return to despite not having central heating. We had a fire.

Any road up, I think part of the reason we get so hysterical about it these days may be because there is now a lot more transport to get disrupted than there used to be. Forty or fifty years ago, not everybody had a car, there weren't so many roads, and people didn't usually drive to work anyway or make very long journeys to work. People lived and worked locally and got the bus or the train - of which there were more, and they were cheaper to use. Teaching and other school staff also tended to live near to their schools and so could get to work more easily. Whereas a journey of 10 miles was considered quite unusual in 1963, it's fairly routine now. So there's more potential these days for disruption. Even so, having 7,000 schools closed today seems a bit much; that's almost a third of all schools!

Chickenshed Theatre

Our Phil is officiating as sound engineer for Chickenshed's current show Badjelly's Bad Christmas, an adaptation of Spike Milligan's various stuff.  Fun for all the family and so forth; tickets on sale now. Mary Ward of Chickenshed and Jane Milligan, Spike's daughter, can be heard on yesterday's edtion of BBC Radio 4's Midweek via the BBC iPlayer.

Two performances done, fifty eight to go!

Schadenfreude vol. 93

I'm almost as happy as I was when Spurs beat Arsenal last week. Old Big Head Mourinho and Young Big Head Ronaldo at Real Madrid have been thoroughly defeated and embarassed by Barcelona; 5 - 0. Spiffing! And by all accounts Real Madrid were completely outplayed, to such an extent that Mourinho just stayed in his dugout throughout the second half, sulking. Moreover, after a typical bit of childish petulance Ronaldo was booked for starting a battle of the handbags. It's off to bed with no supper for you lot!

Harland Miller

I have just discovered Harland Miller, via this isn't happiness (a blog dedicated to 'Art Photography Design & Disappointment'. Note: some nudity and occasional strong language but nothing worse than what you might encounter at The Tate Gallery).

Harland Miller is a writer and artist who has been producing a series of paintings based on the covers of classic Penguin paperbacks. He has a nice blend of satire and dark humour along with admirable technique. I like this painting because it is often true that when one gets down in the dumps you can get used to it and get caught in a cycle of melancholy. Someone or something on a different plane to yourself can bring you out of it, often without even knowing it.

There are also some people who are continuously feeling sorry for themselves, moaning and groaning about everything going wrong and nothing ever works out; not happy unless they are unhappy about something or other.  But in fact their life isn't all that bad and many of their problems are of their own making and could probably be fixed. If you've ever tried getting such a person to buck up a bit and stop going on you'll know what I mean.

And the painting works on other levels too; as a satire on the cod latin phrase 'Nil illegitemi carborundum' popularised during the Second World War; and as a reaction to traditionalists who resist this kind of Art.

There's more Harland Miller stuff at White Cube. (Same Note.)