Grayson Perry

T'other day, I tagged along on an art department trip to a seminar called The Creative Process. We heard from a calligrapher, a grapher designer Martin Parr photographer and Grayson Perry the potter.

He is a bit of a fruit cake. And surprisingly is married to a psychotherapist. He also has a bit of an unhealthy relationship with his teddy bear, Alan Measles. (Perry recently designed a brightly coloured motorcycle for Alan, a kind of popemobile, for his tour to Germany).

He makes his coil pots and copies pictures out of books on to them. Well a few. The pot is his blank canvas. Some of them are quite comical. For example, people think pots are boring and all the same, so what he did was to make a very simple pot, plain design, but for the person that actually gets close to it and examines it it says "@!?* off". Few people examine it so closely.

Quotes:

"Creativity is mistakes"

"Everybody likes gold. It's a bit of bling"

"Vote Alan Measles for god"

"Art is good for people with mental illnesses"

Salamis Bay

Described by Herodotus and Isocrates, founded by the son of Telemon fleeing from Troy. The scene of a sea battle between Greeks and Persians and ruled by Evagoras until conquered by Artaxerxes III. Later ruled by Menalaus, brother of Ptolemy; with another sea battle, between Ptolemy and Demetrius of Macedon. The Romans relocated the capital to Paphos but Trajan and Hadrian nevertheless built some fab buildings there. The Apostle Paul landed in Salamis and his protege Barnabas was eventually stoned to death there. Several earthquakes followed three centuries later, with renewal by Constantius II until eventually the harbour silted up.  The Romans being long-gone, Salamis was abandoned during the Arab invasions of the 7th century.

And now, after all that, just off the shoreline we see a Fat Floating Xorg approaching. Dundundundun....

Lost in Translation: Chapter 37

We have received a very nice 'flat-warming' present - a multi-purpose jug with a lid. Quite nice and very useful, about 1 litre capacity, country of origin unknown. The well-intentioned manufacturers have put a couple of mottos on the jug which are meant to cheer a fellow up but, as occasionally happens when translating from one language to another, the message is just a tad puzzling - but you kind of get the drift:

'Dream Friendship is packed in the bottle of wine, distribution of the deep feelings'; and

'Dream Wish bring distant friends, everything satisfactory, following joyfully'.

Wipe Out!

The Ventures-Wipeout-KILLER LIVE version
Uploaded by LostPirate77. - Watch more music videos, in HD!

Coffee

And here is a cup of yer actual Turkish Coffee. Served with some coffee beans covered in dark chocolate and a pre-sealed plastic 'glass' of water. Stronger and darker than yer Greek version; this is a double. Katanga!

Peach Kebab?

Also available.

I'm guessing it's actually a Turkish version of the Greek Cypriot sheftalia except, of course, it would be made from beef  or lamb rather than pork mince.

Turkish Breakfast

After we'd been wandering around Famagusta for while we felt a tad peckish so we stopped off at a local eatery. This is what was described on the menu as a 'Turkish Breakfast'. Very tasty! They've gone to some trouble to make the fried egg square so that it fits on the flatbread underneath.

Served with their version of pitta bread.

Dubya's Memoirs

Most of us had figured George W Bush to be an ignorant buffoon who merely acted as a front for a conglomerate of corrupt American neo-conservatives. But I had hoped he would fade into obscurity after his usefulness had expired. Sadly, no. He's had the arrogance to publish his memoirs and seek to justify his actions. (I say publish rather than write because, frankly, I doubt he could successfully complete a sentence unaided.)

Any road up, this is the chap who stole the election from Al Gore. He launched a 'War on Terror' by creating terror in Afghanistan, Iraq and Pakistan thereby destabilising further an already volatile region. He engendered and fostered Western fears of Islam and at the same time helped to radicalise disaffected Moslems,consequently increasing the danger of terror in not only the USA but also around the world. Moreover, Dubya lied to his own people about the justification for his wars. He unconstitutionally curtailed the civil rights of his own people. And now he says that 'waterboarding' is not really torture and in any case he thinks it's alright to do it. 

We can accept the reality that nasty things happen, but don't pretend that's a good thing, Dubya. We know you are a crook, a hypocrite and a war-mongering bastard.

The Fez

              F13
That's what I am (O ne i olurum)

            D9/6 C#7#9
Please understand (lütfen anla)

        Cmaj7  C#maj7  Ebmaj7  C#maj7  Bmaj7
I wanna be your holy man (i senin kutsal adamın olmak için ister)

B7  E7 

The Salamis Bay Hotel

Members of the Xorg collective and guests have just returned from a brief excursion into The Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus, where we stayed for a couple of nights at The Salamis Bay Hotel near Famagusta. This hotel claims to be 'Five Star' but I reckon it would be lucky to get two stars anywhere else in Europe. No tea/coffee making facilities in the room; no extractor fan in the bathroom; under floor heating that can't be turned off and beds as stiff as a board. But it's clean and at £115 for two nights half-board for a twin room it's not bad value. The food was reasonable but not 'Five Star' by any means; a good selection of fresh salads but the cooked food was only just slightly better than yer average works canteen. Meal times are a bit of a free-for-all; self service and the tables are set out in long rows, and there's dreadful piped music in an acoustically imperfect dining hall so it's somewhat noisy.

Included in yer half-board is free use of the sauna, indoor swimming pool and Turkish baths. All very welcome and relaxing provided you can peacefully co-exist with a herd of swarthy Turks with a loose interpretation of the concept of decorum.

The hotel has a selective view of Islam. No pork products at meal times but there's a casino within the hotel, and they serve alcohol. Turkey itself is, of course, a secular state.

Der Sofa!

The living room being more or less habitable we figured "Let's get some furniture!"

So off we trundle, inevitably, to a well-known Swedish emporium specialising in self-assembly doodads with funny names. We ended up with a sofa, which converts into a bed, going by the name of 'Manstad'. Sounds more like a town in East Germany but as IKEA names go it's not too weird; it could have been something like Kvrongik, or Norkglug or Brian. Assembly took a couple of hours and was slow at first until the pfennig dropped that I had a right-handed sofa but left-handed instructions. Thereafter, it was plain sailing as I merely had to conjure up a mirror image of the instructions in my bonce and there you have it.

‘Self-service’ security checks to begin at UK airports

(From Newsbiscuit)

In a ‘big society’-style drive to eliminate unnecessary public spending on the security services, passengers flying out of UK airports are to be encouraged to perform security checks on themselves, instead of requiring the assistance of expensive airport police. Members of the public will be expected to pat themselves down, peer inside their own shoes and use a mirror to check if they are looking shifty, before going through a doorway and saying ‘bleep’ loudly if they are carrying any metal items. The move is expected to save millions of pounds a year, and hopes are high that airline passengers will be kept safe from all but the most dishonest hardline terrorists.

Internazionale Who?

Gareth Bale enhanced his credentials for The Papacy, if not immediate sainthood, against Internazionale yesterday evening. The usual requirement for canonisation is to perform two authenticated miracles after death but Mr Bale seems able to do this whilst still alive - he demolished Internazionale's defence, making their famous Brazilian defenders Lucio and Maicon look like clodhoppers. Beat that, Cardinal Fancypants Newman! Moreover, it was quite satisfying to see Rafael Benitez, Internazionale's manager, completely outwitted tactically by His Worship Harry Redknapp. Every Spurs player was brilliant - and sensible - so Harry's getting through to them. (Gormless Gomez remains a challenge, however. It's just as well he was suspended for this match.)

What's the Greek for Health & Safety?

We have engaged the further services of Mr Panikos (see below) to put right some more of the mishmash of mess left by Mister Marinos the Mong. He's currently working on repairing the wall which adjoins the next door property of Mr Petros. This involves re-cementing, some plastering and painting (Note: there should have been three coats of paint on the exterior wall but Marinos has only applied one).

Any road up, Mr Panikos arrived with scaffolding purloined or retrieved from somewhere but, of course, he needed assistance to erect this for which task I was nominated. My role consisted of passing metal poles and wooden planks up to Mr Panikos, and finding bits of string and wire for him to fix it all together. We got there in the end despite my shortage of Greek and his minimal English, and the total lack of helmets and safety boots or a spanner. As you can see from the picture, the string is holding up well and is attached to next-door's fire escape for added stability. The cross-pieces on the scaffolding are secured from copper wire I stripped from some leftover mains cable. A masterpiece of engineering.

JEFF BECK

Wednesday 27th October 2010. The Royal Albert Hall.

Drums - Narada Michael Walden
Bass - Rhonda Smith
Keys - Jason Rebello
Guitar - Jeff "guitar god" Beck
Guest violin - Sharon Corr
Guest vocals - Imelda May
AND the British Philharmonic Orchestra

It was a bit good. Blooming amazing. Fantastic. Jolly spiffing. Tear jerkingly brilliant. Goose bump making.

Can't remember all the songs... but some of them were these:

Hammerhead
People get ready
Mna Na Eireann (Sharon Corr doing violin)
Rollin' and tumblin' (with Rhonda Smith doing vocals)
Corpus Christie Carol
Angel Footsteps
Lilac Wine
Day In the Life (flippin awesome with the orchestra doing really awesome loud bit in the middle)
Higher
How High the Moon (Imelda May doing some SWEET vocals and Mr Jeff on his Les Paul)
Nessun Dorma (there were tears)

And then after all the clapping Mr Jeff came out again and did the National Anthem with the last bit sounding like the beginning of Wind Cries Mary. Crowd went MENTAL. Loved it.

Duh!

You won't need me to tell you that the Government's policy on Child Benefit is half-baked. Unless you're Nick Clegg, George Osbourne or any other member of the Cabinet, that is. As I doubt whether any of those cretins read this blog I shan't bother going into details of how badly thought through the policy is. Suffice it to say that they are going to end up spending a fair bit of the estimated savings from the policy on the costs of implementing it. That's if there are any civil servants left to do the work of sending out letters, checking the replies, and implementing the tax code changes. And if Cameron carries out his vague promise of changes in taxation for 'married couples', I expect those costs (in tax relief as well as administration) will completely wipe out any savings from the Child Benefit clawback.

He's Not Dead...

...but he's accumulating enemies who might wish him so.

Two days after the seven day deadline for sorting out various deficincies (see below),  Mad Dog Marinos the Bonkers Builder sent a fax to the architect complaining that he had not been allowed access to the building and so he hadn't been able to do the work specified. This is of course a load of bollocks as he had claimed that the work was 'finished' and what we are saying is that he hasn't done the things he should have. And a number of the things he has done have not been done properly. In any case, he had plenty of time in August when El Prez was here to get everything done but he was too busy being psychopathic to get on with it. Moreover, he has made no attempt to contact us in the time that we've been here on this visit. So we've agreed with the architect that he will write to Mr Psycho and tell him to stuff his vine leaves where the sun don't shine.

Meanwhile, we have engaged the services of a Mr Panikos, recommended to us by Aki who runs the motorbike shop. Mr Panikos has renewed the pavement outside our building using actual paving slabs and cement. He has done this for the sum of €200, which is the amount of the deposit that The Minicipality should be repaying to us now that it all looks nice and hunky dory. Mr Panikos tells us that he doesn't actually know Marinos, but he knows of him because Marinos nicked his scaffolding which he'd left in the yard next door after doing work for Aki. Like the rest of us, Mr Panikos has no wish to encounter Marinos so he's unsure of whether and how to attempt the return of his scaffolding.

We contacted Mr Giorgios who made and fitted the windows to ask him to sort out a couple which wouldn't shut properly and so he came round for a look see. During his visit he told us that a cheque Marinos has given him for €1,000 has now bounced four times. Giorgios is a tad cheesed off about this because he has known Marinos for some time and worked with him lots, so he thought Marinos would at least have the courtesy to apologise for the bounciness of his cheque and perhaps negotiate alternative payment arrangements, but Marinos has become 'difficult to contact'.

One hopes he also has creditors amongst the Russian Mafia.

This is Cyprus Vol. 234

Electric Schmectric: Dawn Raid

Before the Electricity Authority will supply power to your building, they undertake an inspection of the wiring and so forth and, if they're satisfied, they give you a Certficate and a meter. The electrician who does the installation arranges all this, along with the electrical engineer who provided the plan as commissioned by the architect. That's not really all that difficult to sort out, but these chaps managed to add a few wrinkles along the way.

The electrician wired up the new flat to the supply for the old flat, pending Certification - this may or may not be legitimate but it meant that we had power. He eventually notified the Authority that he'd done his stuff, after we'd got him to put right a few things like connecting up the cooker and the dishwasher. Imagine our surprise when at 7.30 am one morning a team of workers from the Electricity Authority turned up, disconnected the supply and installed a meter, saying that it could not be reconnected until after the inspection which had been set for a week later. The electricity chappies advised us to contact our electrician. He came round and reconnected the new flat to the old flat's supply, which seemed to be OK with the authority's chaps. We are told that when it is time for the inspection the authority will disconnect the flat again but that our electrician can then reconnect the new flat to its own supply, assuming it passes the test. I think that's how it's going to happen. Just so long as it's not another dawn raid.

This Is Cyprus: Vol. 137

Architect Schmarchitect

The building project is 'finished'; this means that one has to get a 'Certificate of Completion' from the Municipal Authorities for which the architect has to fill up a form for us to submit to the Powers That Be. The architect duly sent us this form via courier, which we had to pick up from their offices and take to the Town Hall. But when El Prez got to the Town Hall they told her "This is no good. He's only filled up the first page of the three page form."  Caramba! El Prez therefore phoned the architect from the Town Hall offices and explained matters, and he agreed to start again. So, a repeat performance followed the next day, with El Prez having to collect a new set of forms from the couriers office and take 'em to the Town Hall. We are told that the process will take another month before the Certificate of Completion is completed but we may not be here then, having returned to Old Blighty. So we have been advised to phone 'em the week before we leave and see what's what. Harumph. Couldn't the architect have got this all going several weeks ago when he took the handover of the building?

Progress...

The building project here is 'finished'. Well, as finished as anything ever is in Cyprus anyway. We've paid Bobopoulos The Bonkers Builder but witheld 2% for 12 months, as per the Law in Cyprus, to cover any problems in the 12 months following completion. We've had a meeting with the architect and discussed all the odds and ends that need putting right - such as applying some gloss paint over the undercoat; filling in the patches they've missed and so forth. All piddly little things that you'd think any professional with an ounce of self respect would have got right to start with. We'll give him a week or so to put 'em right and then get it done ourselves and deduct the cost from the 2%.

Meanwhile, they made an almighty mess and only half-heartedly cleaned things up so we've spent a fair bit of time, effort and money on cleaning floors and windows. They splattered cement over the window frames so I've re-painted a couple, and there's more still to be done. But on the whole, we can at last begin to get on with our lives and hope never to have to set eyes on the stupid B***ard Bobopoulos The Bonkers Builder ever again.

Gareth Bale v. Internazionale

He might be Welsh, but I reckon he's in the running to be next Pope. His left foot, at least, seems to be infallible.

Spurs' defence in the first half was woeful, particularly William Gallas, and Gomez the Gormless Goalie got himself sent off for being typically reckless. But after they went four goals down, Spurs seemed to get their act together and Cardinal Redknapp seemed to get 'em sorted out mentally at half time. It remains to be seen, however, how far Spurs will get in t'Champions' League simply by trying to score more goals than t'opposition - it might seem paradoxical but you have to stop t'others as well, Brian.

Note: One watched the game using 'Live Streaming' via Cytanet, for the grand price of €5. Unfortunately as Cyta only provide a 1Mb service this meant it kept 'buffering' and so the match stuttered somewhat. We are promised an upgrade in December.

The Day After

From Newsbiscuit

In the wake of Wednesday’s spending review announcement by the coalition government, which heralded half a million public sector job losses, thousands of associated private sector business collapses, across-the-board tax increases, and restrictions on spending on essential services at levels not seen since the 1920s, the Great British public confounded pundits by taking the news on the chin, giving a plucky shrug, and deciding things probably wouldn’t look so bad after a nice cup of tea.

In The Dead of Night

There I am, quietly reading a book, whilst El Presidente snores. Then comes the sound of a straining diesel engine, lots of clattering and banging and a few shouts. El Prez awakes. "What's that noise? What's that? Someone's breaking in! Call the Police!"

"Don't be silly, the noise is outside. It's nothing," yawns The Mighty Xorg.

"No. Someone's breaking in! Go and see!"

"Oh alright. It's probably the bin men, though."

Xorg gets up and brings El Prez to the front of the house, opens the shutters, and points at the bin lorry. "There you go," upon which a slightly embarassed Presidente returns to her slumbering chamber, muttering. 

Xorg grins. "I'll just call the Police." Picks up phone. "Hello is that the Police? Yes? The bin men are here."

On The Road Again

Here's what our road looks like during the day, viewed from the balcony.

That's Koulli with his head under the wheel arch of the quad bike. Koulli is one of the coolest dudes on the planet; totally inscrutable and minimalist in conversational inclination. I have yet to see his facial expression change from that of a chap who knows what he knows and you lot know nothing of what he knows. But don't mistake this for grumpyness; he's actually quite a nice, helpful fellow.

The bloke on the right with the bald patch is Aki, who actually owns the motorbike business 'Origenis Motors Ltd'. He also has a full-time job as entertainments officer for the municpality, and he has a number of property holdings. More expansive than Koulli, and with a fine sense of humour he, too, is a nice, helpful fellow. The chap on the left is an acquaintance of Aki and Koulli, and is providing irrelevant advice - a not uncommon phenomenon amongst Cypriots.

Origenis Motors sells new and second-hand motorbikes, scooters and quad bikes and, from time to time, they have some spiffing vintage models for sale. Lambrettas from 1960 and so forth, all lovingly restored and shiny.

Books...

As a change from the somewhat gloomy writings of Chekhov, my reading has taken a more light-hearted turn recently:

It Just Occurred To Me by Humphrey Lyttleton

A very random set of memoirs and thoughts of Chairman Humph, spanning his multifarious careers as a trumpeter, band leader, cartoonist, journalist, and radio presenter. Always amusing and erudite, the occasional rant, and a good dose of pedantry.

Adolf Hitler; My Part In His Downfall by Spike Milligan

I've always been a fan of Mr Milligan and read this book when it was first published ages ago. Definitely worth re-reading for its humour and pathos. The next three volumes of his war time memoirs are on the shelf awaiting reading over the next couple of weeks.

I Shall Wear Midnight by Terry Pratchett

The latest Discworld novel, featuring the teenage witch Tiffany Aching. this time (I'm told this is aimed at 'younger readers', whatever that means. I don't go along with this market categorisation business - a book is a book. But that's another story.) Any road up, it's amazing how Mr Pratchett keeps up such a high standard without being repetitive or formulaic, unlike some authors who write a series of novels. The story is of a battle of good and evil and gives some insight into humanity along the way, whilst being based in fantasy. The title of course is a spoof on the poem by Jenny Joseph 'Warning: When I Am An Old Woman I Shall Wear Purple'.

Kebab Heaven

Next door but one to us is 'Jimmy's Tavern' a kebab shop run by my mother-in-law's second cousin George. He is getting on a bit now and is handing over to his son, after fifty-odd years of kebabification. They make the best souvlakia kebabs in Larnaca and, possibly, the world - although I would have to undertake more research to be certain of that. Most of George's business is take-away but he does cater for some who 'eat-in'. But the snag is George's premises do not actually include an indoors beyond the food preparation area so he just sets up tables outside, in the road. Customers eat out and eat-out rather than eat-in, as it were. Our next-door neighbour, Petros, is a bit stroppy so he parks his car right outside his house to prevent George from putting his tables there. George therefore puts his tables outside our house, which is fine by us seeing as he's related and makes the best kebabs in Larnaca. 

Here's a picture of last night's diners, taken from our balcony using a one second exposure - hence the people who were moving are a tad blurred.

During the daytime, this bit of the road is used by Aki and Koulli who run a motorcycle repair shop from the premises below us as their 'forecourt' and it is littered with bikes, mopeds and scooters in various states of dismantlement. Fortunately, they clean up every evening prior to George's customers arriving. Likewise, George cleans up after his diners have finished, so our little bit of road gets cleaned twice a day. Somewhat unusually for Larnaca. Or anywhere, I guess!

Another Pie

Around this time of year, everybody's apple trees are producing fruit in great abundance and people have more apples than they know what to do with. Consequently, they give the apples away to everyone they know. A result of this is a plethora of apple chutney and the like. But FabMary went one better and made some pies. Spiffnifficent!

Here's one she made earlier.

Alternatively...

How to Fix the Structural Deficit

The Government's main justification for its public expenditure cuts is that there is a structural deficit in the UK's finances, which was left by the previous set of incompetent nincompoops. It's standard practice for an incoming Government to blame the previous regime for anything and everything that might be wrong with anything at all, so that's fair enough. Never mind that it's anybody's guess whether or not a Conservative Government would have done anything different in the circumstances of the last three years (Michael Howard would have been Prime Minister had they won the 2005 election...)

So what is the structural deficit? Well, it's a notional figure - 'A budget deficit that results from a fundamental imbalance in government receipts and expenditures, as opposed to one based on one-off or short-term factors', as defined by The Financial Times - but it is nevertheless an estimate based on forecasts of how the economy will operate in the long term. Not everyone agrees that there is such a thing in 'reality', or even if there is a structural deficit that it is necessarily a problem. For example, if you've got a mortgage you have a structural deficit in your household budget but it doesn't mean you're doomed to everlasting perdition. There's an article over at The Investor's Chronicle which examines the concept critically in more detail.

Any road up, we are told that the structural deficit is £178 billion and that the Government deems it essential that we clear this within five years (the lifetime if this Parliament, coincidentally or not). This is to be achieved through public expenditure cuts which involve all manner of misery and hardship and which, so far, have been focussed on welfare benefits and quangoes, and we face an era of austerity and uncertainty as Government departments look for ways to cut between 25% and 40% from their budgets.  All so that the financial markets do not lose confidence in the UK's ability to repay its loans. But there is a way to rectify the deficit without any of this talk of gloom and doom.

There was a 'Tax Gap' in the UK's finances of some £40 billion in 2007/08. Her Majesty's Revenue and Customs (HMRC) quote this figure in their publication Protecting Tax Revenues 2009. Basically, the Tax Gap is the difference between what HMRC expects to collect and what it actually collects, and it arises from several factors such as simple error and failure to take reasonable care, evasion, avoidance, and crime. It is safe to assume that this figure of £40 billion recurrs every year. So, you've guessed it, what we need to do is fix the Tax Gap for the next five years and, Hey Presto, we move from a structural deficit of £178 billion to a structural surplus of £22 billion! You could thus spend up to £22 billion on fixing the Tax Gap and still break even.

So there you have it. Problem solved by The Mighty Xorg.

The snag so far as the Government is concerned, however, is that this would mean reinforcing staff numbers and systems in HMRC in order to sort it out and this goes against their doctrine of reducing the 'size of government'. Another problem for the likes of Cameron and Osbourne is that it is the financial markets who are perpetrating the biggest slice of the tax evasion and avoidance, and a fair proportion of the crime. (Remember Bernie Madoff? It's not just self-employed builders dodging VAT who operate in the 'Black Economy'). Oh, and if the Government doesn't owe all this money to the financial markets any more, the financial markets' profits would be affected negatively.

Addendum: Meanwhile, you could reduce day-to-day expenditure without rendering widows and orphans homeless by scrapping Trident (£20 billion) and withdrawing from Afghanistan (£10 million per day). And save lives into the bargain. But that's just the old peacenik hippy in me talking, I suppose.

Not So Clever Trevor

Cripes, lummee and yer what?

Sir Trevor Brooking, an otherwise splendid fellow and accomplished footballer, who is now the Director of Development at the Football Association (amongst other things,) said yesterday that the FA may re-appoint Steve McLaren to the job of England manager after Fabio Capello retires. Ahem. Sir Trevor should have kept this thought to himself, I fear. All followers of the England team will be spending sleepless nights over the next two years in trepidation that this may come about.

Whilst it is understandable that the FA should want to find an English manager, besides Sir Trevor there's probably only Mr McLaren's mum thinks it should be him. I suspect Our Trev is just being an old softy because he was involved in giving Mr McLaren the job first time round after the debacle following Sven's dismissal. You will recall that the FA couldn't get any top-flight managers to take it on and McLaren was about fifth choice. Meanwhile Sven's contract meant that the FA had to continue paying him for two years afterwards, whilst Mr McLaren fumbled England's qualification for Euro 2008 - another reason why Sir Trevor should keep a low profile in the matter of choice of manager!

I need not go into the reasons why Mr McLaren should not have the job. One may as well ask why we don't re-appoint Norman Lamont as Chancellor; or Coco the Clown.

Get a Life!

On occasion, when I have been rattling on about some esoteric subject or other, or ranting about some vexing issue that nobody else is interested in, I am advised to 'Get a Life'. I believe this is intended as a form of generic putdown and abbreviated critique.

Well, over at the Oxford Dictionary of National Biography (ODNB), help for unfortunates such as myself is at hand. The ODNB is an archive of biographies of people who have, in some way, contributed to British history, politics, or society. They only feature articles on on dead people, however. But on the Home page there is a button to click on which says 'Get a life at random'. Of course, by life they mean biography, but it struck me as a groovy concept that one could merely click on a button and 'Get a Life'. So far today I have been a member of 'The Cato Street Conspiracy' - a radical group who plotted to blow up the British Cabinet in 1820, but were betrayed by a Government spy - and a 19th Century publisher, writer and editor named Charles Ollier who published works by Keats and Shelley.

Sadly for all you plebs one has to be a subscriber to take advantage of this facility, which I am by virtue of my status as a student of the highly esteemed Open University. You may be similarly institutionalisationally affilliated. Or not. Get a Life.

More Pie!

El Presidente has many talents, peace be upon her. But an essential part of her being is cooking and today she has done us proud with a Steak,Guinness and Cheese Pie prepared from a recipe by the estimable Jamie Oliver.

Served with mashed potatoes and peas.

Fairly reasonable!
Here's one she prepared earlier.

Market Forces

Apparently, we're all in this together so we've all got to make sacrifices and suffer the effects of Government austerity measures. And the International Monetary Fund approves. Depends on your outlook, I suppose, but I don't see how putting 600,000 public sector workers on the dole is going to reduce public spending. We're going to lose the taxes they pay, and we're going to have to pay them unemployment benefits. The theory is, of course, that the private sector will take up the slack and create jobs for all these unfortunate wretches. Yep. That's why they have been so busy outsourcing as many jobs as possible to India, Thailand, and so forth. So get on yer bikes, lads, and head east.

But the financial mess we're in isn't the fault of the people who are going to have to pay for it. If you recall, it all went pear-shaped because the financial markets invented new ways of creating credit, lending money to each other and to people who couldn't afford to pay it back. The bubble inevitably burst and the taxpayer had to bale out the financial markets because, we were told, we could not afford to allow 'the banks' to fail.

The Government doesn't want to raise taxes, so it borrows money from the financial markets, which is why we must have austerity measures, so that the financial markets don't lose confidence in Government Bonds. But hang on, didn't we lend them money and increase the money supply to keep them afloat? So aren't we borrowing back our own money and then paying interest on money we lent them? Meanwhile, the chaps in the financial markets continue to get paid bonuses rather than suffer the pay cuts and loss of services the rest of us are threatened with.

Communism seems to have failed, but I am not persuaded that capitalism has succeeded except for maybe the financial markets!

Golfers

I think golf is one of the most boring sports ever invented. And somehow or other it seems to take over the sensible parts of the brains of golfers and the chaps who administer the game. I once accompanied some chums of mine who are keen golfers, whilst they played. I was allowed to be an observer only - my complete lack of experience in playing golf meant I was forbidden from taking part. I only lasted for half the round - by the cringe it was tiresome and, what's more, they didn't seem very happy and seemed to do nothing but complain and moan. So I went back to the Club House and read a book. Meanwhile, it rained. But this did not deter the golfers who eventually returned wet as well as miserable and frustrated. Takes all sorts.

Any road up, I'm just listening idly to BBC Radio 5 at the moment, as I do from time to time, and they are all in a right tizz and no mistake. It seems Europe and the USA are supposed to be playing a golfing tournament known as the Ryder Cup today and over the weekend, but it's raining cats and dogs so play is impossible. So it goes. But what is mind-boggling about this affair is that the tournament is taking place in Newport, South Wales in the Autumn. Az eny fule kno, it often rains in Wales - especially in the Autumn - that's why The Powers That Be built reservoirs there to store rainwater to be piped to other parts of the UK where there is less rain. Well, dur.

A beneficial side-effect of this, however, is that the commentators on Radio 5 are having to fill in their broadcast time with something or other and it's all getting a tad bizarre. We've just had a discussion about 'dog pedometers' and whether or not a dog finds it more difficult to run uphill than a human does. And John Inverdale has asked listeners in Gleneagles to let him know if it's raining there - because the tournament is to be held in Gleneagles in four years' time. When it might or might not be raining.

Alfred E Neuman: It's A Gas!

I am indebted to my esteemed former colleague The Great Devereaux who has reminded me of this classic recording from 1963 by The Usual Bunch of Idiots at MAD magazine (by the time it reached the antipodes the clock had ticked on to 1965). The official site for MAD is here, but there's loads of fansites worth looking at, and more Mad recordings at You Tube.

 

100 Club

Old farts and musos in general will be alarmed and depressed to learn that the 100 Club in Oxford Street is scheduled to close at the end of the year. The owner says the club has been losing £100K per year for the last three years mainly because of a 45% rent increase in 2007, and increases in taxes and business rates meanwhile.

The 100 Club is really quite grotty, run down and squalid. But it has atmosphere (and not just the one you can smell). The owner's policy has always been to encourage originality and not to aim for the 'corporate market' i.e. the over-fed executives on expenses who can afford to pay £40 smackers for a bottle of wine and £25 quid on burger and chips. Admission prices are kept low and the place is fairly relaxed in matters of dress and decorum. So I guess you don't make much money that way, even though the venue is successful, well-attended and musicians want to play there.

The roll-call of luminaries to have played the 100 Club is impressive. Not only has our Phil played there with his former band Hanzo, but so too have Humphrey Lyttleton, The Rolling Stones, B B King, Eric Clapton, The Clash, and many more. It'll be a shame if it closes down and the world loses such a prestigious and independent venue. But so it goes. Maybe Mick Jagger could shell out some of his spare cash and buy a share in the business. £100K a year is not much to him - he probably spends more on having his hair done.

Earl Hooker

Older readers may recall me droning on once before about Old Blues Men being ripped off by various herberts who then go on to make millions whilst the rippee dies an early death. One such is  Earl Hooker who recorded a tune called 'Blue Guitar' in May 1961 - he was messing around in the studio without knowing the tape was running and his astute record boss subsequently issued it as a single. It was a 'hit' on yer Chicago blues scene and so Muddy Waters over-dubbed vocals on to it, lyrics by Willie Dixon, and it became 'You Shook Me' which was then covered by Led Zeppelin; who strangled it to death with Robert Plant's singing and got generally pompous about it.

The intriguing aspect of all this ripping offage is that for the Muddy Waters record and Led Zeppelin, songwriting credit is given to Willie Dixon - and he is the bloke who spearheaded the campaign to get yer Old Blues Men credited (and paid) when they were ripped off by the music biz in general. A case of the rippee ripping? Any road up, here's Earl Hooker's original:

Notes:
Earl Hooker died from TB aged 41 in a sanatorium, a year after Led Zeppelin's first LP was released.
Earl Hooker used a twin-necked guitar.
Robert Plant now does country & western.

Not Long Left Now...

Ho hum.

According to some anonymous forecaster at The Latter Rain, the World is going to be destroyed by God on 21 October 2011. He reckons this will be preceded by 'The Rapture' on 21 May 2011, so if you want to be saved you'd better get your skates on. (The Rapture is when, he claims, all those who are to be saved will be transported to Heaven. Any road up, only 240 days to go!)

This chap is not the first to predict The End, but you'd think he'd have figured by the experience of previous doom merchants that it's always a bit dodgy to actually put a date on it because when nothing happens, you'll look a bit daft. As well as sounding daft, as at present. I have attempted to read some of this piffle but I've given up. Phew - it beats me why a God would make all this business so darn complicated.

As I understand it, 'The Latter Rain' movement is a kind of unstructured extremist Pentecostal agglomeration, and it overlaps with the Mormons in some way although separate from them. The movement seems to have occasional flurries of activity when adherents take it up, but then it seems to fade away. Late 19th century, mid-20th century, and now early 21st century.

I wonder if they've checked this out with Paul The Octopus?

The Pope Has Landed

Herr Obergruppenfuhrer Der Benedict von Pontif has arrived and, so far, has not excommunicated anyone so that's a relief. He says he's a bit worried by 'aggressive secularism' but then some of us are a bit worried by 'agressive religion' so maybe we can agree on a kind of uneasy truce at least, and avoid any unpleasantness. I appreciate Herr Pope acknowledging British tolerance of differing beliefs and the fact that Britain did a fair bit in opposing the Nazis. It's a shame we can't say the same about The Vatican whose record of religious tolerance is not a good one, whose status as an independent state was established by the fascist government of Mussolini, and whose former leader Pius the Nth negotiated a 'Concordat', or non-agression treaty, with Adolf Hitler.

Reading

“Anyway, poetry is not the most important thing in life, is it? Frankly, I'd much rather lie in a hot bath sucking boiled sweets and reading Agatha Christie, which is just exactly what I intend to do as soon as I get home.” -- Dylan Thomas

I've never really got into poetry either, Dylan me old china. I've made a couple of attempts and I do sometimes come across the odd poem that strikes me, but it's not something I sit and read very much for very long. I've got a handout somewhere here from a tutorial a while back which might be useful so perhaps I'll get round to it shortly.

Meanwhile, at the moment I'm reading two books concurrently:

'The Big Knockover and Other Stories' by Dashiell Hammett

A collection of short stories, written in the 1920s,  from the author of The Maltese Falcon, which likewise feature hard-boiled, flawed but basically decent private detectives outwitting the low-life and the police.

'The Essential Tales of Chekhov' by Anton Chekhov

Yer man Chekhov wrote over two hundred short stories and this book contains twenty of them, selected by some dude called Richard Ford. Written in the 1880s and 1890s. Chekhov was amongst the writers who defined the modern short story, and a particular feature of his stuff is that they do not necessarily have a resolution and they often end in misery for all the protagonists. The narrative kind of generates a feeling or oblique reflection on life or moral values rather than a plot.

Otherwise, I'm all in favour of soaking in the bath although I'm not all that keen on boiled sweets. I'm more of a whisky and soda person.

Another of Life's Great Imponderables

Most houses, flats, condominiums, and even air-raid shelters, come equipped with coat hooks and cupboards. Why is it then that so many people, particularly associates of the Xorg Collective, never hang their coats up or put their shoes way? Some even litter their clothing all over the floor in apparent disarray, regardless of its relative state of cleanliness or otherwise. It's a mystery to me. All outer clothing such as coats and jackets, moreover, comes with a little loop sown into the collar to facillitate the hanging up thereof on the aforementioned hook - of which there are eight in Xorg HQ's hallway, vestibule, foyer, call-it-what-you-will. One does not object to the temporary and occasional deposit of a jumper or cardigan on the back of a chair. But after three days, I reckon you're taking the mickey. Likewise the layers of clothing detritus on the banister at the foot of the stairs - the coat hooks are less than two metres away, ferchris'sakes! Of particular annoyance is the practice of leaving shoes in the doorway or at the bottom of the stairs where they will provide optimal obstruction potential. Is this deliberate? The shoe cupboard is easily accessible, just by the coat hooks.

Nothing

Nothing can be a bit of a difficult concept. Nothing really matters, according to Mr Mercury, and according to Mr Lennon, Nothing Is Real. And not everyone can even agree on what to call it. If you're playing cricket you can be out for naught or, alternatively, a duck. Nothing is Love in tennis, but in football it is Nil. If you happen to be a shepherd but you have no sheep, would you still be a shepherd? Which brings us to the problem of counting nothing. Headaches all round, because there has to something between +1 and -1, doesn't there? (We know that there is such a thing as a negative number in the so-called real world because the banks, amongst others, tell us so. If you draw out more money than you pay in, then you are in debt).

So we have established the concept of Zero, Nothing, Nil etc.

Meanwhile, if you divide 1 by 1, you get 1. One goes into one once. So how many times does nothing go into nothing? Once. So 1 = 1. No problem there. So 1 over 1 equals, and 0 over 0 equals 1. Therefore, 0 = 1.

Hold up! That can't be right...

Shadow Move

In 1963, when The Beatles were making their big breakthrough, The Shadows actually sold more records than the Fab Four. But by 1965, things were different and The Shads were being left behind a bit by not only The Fabs but also The Stones, The Yardbirds and so forth. So The Shadows figured they'd better get with it and ventured into slightly more dangerous territory (for them). 'Don't Make My Baby Blue' was part of the results; vocals, and note the distorted lead guitar as opposed to Hank's previously clean sound and an almost-bluesey lead break. Not a bad record but sadly The Shadows remained forever tainted by association with Sir Clifford of Richard and none of us were convinced that they could hack it alongside the likes of Jeff Beck, Eric Clapton and Jimi Hendrix. And, indeed, they couldn't. But I still like them for being The Shadows.

The Move subsequently covered this song on their album 'Shazam', showing how to get heavy with a decent pop song. This version fulfils the criteria for cover versions as set out in The Xorg Collective Concordat Concerning Covers.

What A Waste of Money

That perpetrator of various misdeeds, His Unholiness The Pope Himself, is shortly to visit the UK. It is not clear why he is visiting other than to carry out some mumbo-jumbo beatifying the corpse of a long-dead Anglican convert of dubious sexuality, but it seems that the British taxpayer is paying for the visit to the tune of £10 million smackers plus policing costs. The Catholic Church in the UK is paying a similar amount which they are raising by selling souvenirs and charging Believers to attend the events. The Vatican doesn't look like it is short of cash so it makes you wonder, especially when not many people seem all that bothered about His Presence Being Among Us. A poll conducted by ComRes for the Theos theology 'Thinktank' indicates most of us are generally apathetic about the visit and object to paying for it. Another poll by Ipsos MORI, on behalf of the Catholic magazine The Tablet,  confirms the general level of apathy although Catholics, unsurprisingly, seem to be in favour. 

I presume the justification is that the visit is being treated as an 'Official State Occasion' rather than a Pastoral visit but I fail to see what benefit the taxpayer will get from shelling out £10 million quids at a time when public services are being cut back somewhat arbitrarily and ruthlessly.

Spontaneous God

Stephen Hawking has set the cat among the pigeons by theorising in his new book that 'God' was not necessary and that the Universe would have created itself anyway. He doesn't actually say that 'God' doesn't exist but no doubt religious types will interpret it that way. Expect a fatwah any day now from either or both The Ayatollah or The Pope.

Notwithstanding that the concept of 'God' gives the Universe (and humanity in particular) purpose beyond itself, God by definition can't have been created by someone or something else. So, either 'God' created himself and the Universe from nothing or the Universe created itself from nothing. Either belief seems paradoxical to me; I suspect nothing was created.

Cover Versions

We were listening to David Bowie's cover of 'I Feel Free' which is on the Black Tie, White Noise album, and reached the unanimous view that he shouldn't have bothered. Bowie perpetrated another howler when he covered 'God Only Knows' on the Tonight album. As far as the Xorg Collective is concerned, cover versions should add something to the original rather than diminish it. Here's my favourite example of How To Get It Right; The Vanilla Fudge cover The Supremes.

Mysteries of The Premier League Part 38: Titus Bramble

Here we are in the second week of the season and there have been a few changes, while some things stay the same. Promotions, demotions, 'early contenders for goal of the season', 'bad defending whatever way you look at it', weird choices for away strip (Everton), und so weiter etc. Chelsea off to a flyer, Arsenal looking promising, Spurs under-achieving. But still there remains The Unexplained Presence of Titus Bramble In A Premier League Team. Someone once said of him, somewhat charitably, "Titus's occasional flash of brilliance is heavily outweighed by the total inability to think before attempting what inevitably turns into a hashed clearance, a mistimed tackle, an own goal or a penalty for the opposition." Very occasional flashes, well, maybe once.

Imagine my surprise to find him lining up for Sunderland. They signed him for an undisclosed fee from Wigan - it is not known in which direction the fee went. Relegation beckons.

Miles Davis

My eldest daughter once said to me, a few years ago, "Good grief, Dad, how many Miles Davis albums can a man have?" She had just bought me 'Sketches of Spain'  on CD as a surprise present only to find that I already had it and when I pointed to the Miles Davis section on the shelf she emitted the above query.

Now, thanks to my esteemed friend Lord Trousers von Crosby-on-Sea, I have added a few more so that the provisional total is now fifty two - I might have missed out some on LP that lurk in the recesses of the cupboard under the stairs, yet to be reacquired in digitalissimo formattageness. When I get round to tidying up we shall see what we shall see. Of course, there are probably a couple of hundred Miles Davis albums out there but some of these will be rejiggled compilations and the like rather than discreet albums as such, m'lud. 

Currently listening to 'Steamin with the Miles Davis Quintet'.

Wot I Been Reading

Lord Peter Views The Body - Dorothy L Sayers

Somewhat dated collection of short stories, seventy or eighty years after they were written, and a couple of the tales are a bit far-fetched, but I like the characters Lord Wimsey and his inimitable butler named Bunter.

The Postman Always RingsTwice - James L Cain

Spiffing hard-boiled crime thriller involving murder and adultery. You've probably seen one or other of the several film versions. Interestingly, the story does not feature a postman.

The Burial At Thebes - Seamus Heaney

This a play based on Antigone by Sophocles. I listened to it on a CD while reading along. Not a happy story - it involves incest, fratricide, paranoia, guilt, suicide, betrayal, exhumation, war, lost love and so forth. But it's very dramatic. You need to read/hear it a couple of times to get the full beauty and depth of the thing. It's a bit odd in places where Heaney uses modern idioms mixed in with the ancient Greek stuff. Although it claims to be a translation by Heaney, he doesn't actually know the Greek language. He wrote his play as a kind of synthesis using other people's translations. Typically Irish you might say.

The Maltese Falcon - Dashiell Hammett

I might have mentioned this before. It's a favourite - both the book and the Humphrey Bogart film. This book more or less invented the genre of detective thriller featuring a hard-case anti-hero who is not above law-breaking, violence, revenge and theft but who sees 'justice' is done in the end. Some snappy dialogue.

Ho Hum

Awesome Photographer 2 - Edward Steichen

I discovered Steichen at the Vanity Fair Portraits exhibition at the National Portrait Gallery a few years ago. He took photos for Vanity Fair and Vogue int he 20s and 30s. He was like the celebrity photographer. Anywho, really clever work. You could stare at his pictures for ages.

Gloria Swanson

Funk Assessment #2: Arthur Conley

Here's a clip of Arthur Conley performing to an audience in Germany in 1967. The audience is a tad reserved and unsure of themselves. But Arthur and his band sho am funky. So what makes it funky? Apart from Arthur's trousers and the choreography of the awesome brass section, that is? Not surprisingly, Funk Fans, it's the rhythm section of the guitar, drums and bass. The guitarist just keeps on chugging away and the bass player and drummer are aligned in their syncopatoryness, particularly after three minutes in when they get to play 'Sweet Soul Music'.

Hotcha!

Cyprus Trips!

So we went to Cyprus. 

Weather - hot, like 47 degrees C!

Food - GOOOOOOOOOD - best beef in the world. More on that story later.

Beer - Good

A tip on how to avoid stupid builders - leave the house. 

So we decided to go on a couple of day trips. Road trip to the mountains and a trip to a very pretty beach. The map shows our rough route. Phil enjoyed driving on the mountain roads and Berty, the car, coped surprisingly well. Several rubble warnings were issued.

Day trip one was roughly 370km. Fun.

Things to remember when going on a road trip:

1. Have a up to date map

2. Have CDs that are not scratched 

3. Don't drive automatic car

4. Take the handbrake off.

It's Him Again!

Alfred the Great, Ethelred the Unready, Edmund the Magnificent, Edgar the Peaceful, Edward the Confesssor. Leaders from the past whose names are remembered fondly. I fear they are soon to be joined in the pantheon by Cameron the Half-Baked, who won't be recalled with any fondness (at least by me).

His latest pronouncement is in support of Greater Manchester's councillors'  idea for local bye-laws to impose a minimum price per unit on alcoholic drinks. The aim is to prevent yobbos from getting tanked up on cheap booze bought from the supermarket before venturing out into the streets of Manchester for a drink-fuelled orgy of mayhem and destruction. Well it doesn't take a genius to figure out where this plan will fail. The yobbos will merely drive along the M62 to Leeds and buy their cheap booze by the van-load! And no doubt meanwhile create a black market in cheap wallop. Before venturing out into the streets for a drink-fuelled orgy of mayhem and destruction.

I always drink responsibly.

Incoming!

Here's hoping for a cloudless sky for the next few nights as the Earth passes through the debris from the Swift-Tuttle comet. It should be visible around about 10 or 11 pm till dawn. See NASA for more information.

The Boy Blunder

At the risk of becoming boring, I feel I must point out some of the weaknesses in David Cameron's latest half-baked idea namely, to limit council house tenancies to five or ten-year leases and evict people when their income rises or their children grow up.

First, it merely adds to the so-called 'poverty trap' as it would act as a disincentive to tenants to improve their lot if they know that they might lose their home if their earnings rise above a certain amount. Dave seems to have missed the point that social housing is provided for people who do not have the necessary capital to get going in the private sector. It is also there because the private sector cannot, or will not, provide adequate housing at a reasonable rent.

Secondly, what happened to Dave's idea about creating a sense of community, the Big Society? If social housing is only ever short-term it will merely end up as a kind of transit camp. People might have somewhere to live for a limited period but will it be a home with a sense of continuity and community identity?

We're all in together but some of us are more in it than others, it seems.

Can We Fix It?

Someone who is related to me by marriage is a great one for fixing things. He never likes to just get a new thing if there's some way he can bodge up a repair of the broken thing. And bodge up is the appropriate word - he doesn't buy new parts for things, he improvises. So he saves all the bent nails and used screws, and salvages every bit of wood,  metal or wire in case it might come in useful some time.

Pictured here is the repair to the handle of the spool which winds up the garden hose. The original is plastic and, as often happens with weathered plastic, it snapped off. So what El Bodger has done is wire together the snapped handle bit and fix it with glue to a wooden disk fashioned from some old plywood. Of course, the glue wasn't strong enough so he's going to have to amend the design somewhat and nail the plastic spindle to the plywood as well. I had the privilege of being El Bodger's assistant during the operation, my role being to do the heavy work of sawing the plywood and screwing the screws (of different sizes) through the wired up plastic handle into the plywood  - a task made slightly more difficult because of the lack of decent screwdrivers, the Maestro having mislaid the nice new set I bought him a couple of years ago. I am pleased to say that I also provided some advice and persuaded El Bodger to use a screw through the spindle and not just the glue, otherwise the whole thing would have fallen apart. I have left the Maestro to do the additional nails himself; work having been suspended by the serving of apple pie and a cup of tea.

Othello

Yet another works outing, this time to Tolethorpe Hall to see the Stamford Shakespeare Company's  production of Othello.

This is a covered open-air theatre in the grounds of an old minor stately home. Our original plan was to go to Tolethorpe Hall in the afternoon, wander about a bit, have a picnic, and then watch the play. But the weather turned cold and wet so we scrubbed the picnic and had fish and chips instead. But it was still cold sitting in the open-air theatre!

This is an amateur Shakespeare Company, which is apparently well resourced as it actually owns the venue. The production and acting weren't brilliant although overall it was good enough. They were all in 'Shakespearean mode' of course, which is understandable, but it can be overdone with actors speaking in stentorian tones, enunciating. The stage design looked OK but, as it was made out of plywood, and the actors were all wearing big heavy leather knee-length boots, it was all a bit clod-hoppingly clumpy as they moved about. The actor playing Iago was quite good but was about twice as old as the part he was playing, and I think he could have done more to get across the point that Iago does all this evil manipulation for its own sake as well as out of bitterness at being passed over for promotion. Othello himself moved a little awkwardly but was reasonably commanding as befits the role. Full marks for effort; and well done by their own non-professional standards. Shame about the weather!

Konstantinos Marinos Is An Idiot

That's right, you heard right, the secret word for tonight is ηλίθιος. 

Things are still dragging on with this stupid pillock of a builder in Cyprus. If the wazzocky nitwit had his marbles properly sorted, he could have had this job finished weeks ago but no, he's still faffing about. As of two weeks ago he reckoned he'd be done by the end of July at the latest. El Presidente arranged to travel to Cyprus, therefore, to meet with him and the architect and to complete the handover and make a final payment, and Bob's Yer Uncle *. 

So, last Friday, the site meeting took place but, not surprisingly, it was seen that the job wasn't finished and there is a list of about a dozen things that need doing. Chiefly, he's made a complete balls up of the finish at the front of the building and the railings on the balcony need strengthening - other items comprise what you might call a 'snagging list'. So agreement was reached between El Prez, the architect and Marinos that these things would be put right by today and if done satisfactorily payment would follow.

But come Tuesday, whilst his workers were almost finished, Mr Bonebrain turned up in an agitated state and proceeded to have another of his psychotic episodes, subjecting Madame President to a torrent of abuse. This was in public, in the street outside the house, as various astounded neighbours and workers looked on. It ended with Mr Nutjob telling his workers to leave the site immediately. This was followed the next day by a letter from his solicitor demanding extra payment of €2,600 within 7 days or face legal action (despite only €900 for extras being due as agreed the Friday before). Well, El Prez is not to be intimidated by such actions and, in fact, Mr Plonkerhead had played into her hands by taking this course. If there's one thing Madame President is good at it is writing stonking letters to solicitors and other stuffed-shirt self-important doodahs that will demolish them in a twinkling.

So she wrote to this solicitor, made a couple of phone calls to the architect, and, to cut to the chase, Mr Looneytune has been told by his solicitor to get on with it - which he has agreed to do. However, having lost another week with this latest tantrum he won't now be finished until after El Prez has returned to Xorg HQ, so he's going to have to deal with the architect directly - after the architect gets back from his holidays - and he consequently won't get paid for another month or so. Meanwhile, El Prez has made payment, agreed with Mr Dumbo's secretary, for the 'extras' work done up until this week's mouth-frothing display (about €700). So, he's back where he was last Friday and all this fuss and bother has done him no good - meanwhile he has incurred solicitor's fees. 

What a wally.

* (or Ο Σταύρος είναι ο θείος σας, in the vernacular)

Brampton Pies

If you're in the Huntingdon area and you are feeling peckish you could do worse than procure a scrumptious pie from The Brampton Pie Company. There's steak & ale, creamy chicken, steak and stilton and several more, all reasonably priced at about a fiver for a pie big enough for four moderately hungry persons (if consumed with mashed potatoes and mushy peas with gravy.) Be that as it may,  I would have little difficulty in disposing of one of these splendid comestibles seule, par moi if given the chance. Sadly these pies are not yet available by mail order but the company is looking for partners to take out franchises. And you might have a word with whoever runs your staff canteen to get 'em wholesale.

¡Al infinito y más allá!

Members of the Xorg Collective adjourned to the cinema the other day  to see Toy Story 3.

Quite a hoot. The strength of the film lies in the script which is clever, original, funny, and only a bit sentimental towards the end; but that's Americans for you. Very high production values and the voice characterisations are excellent. And unlike many other films in the genre, there aren't separate jokes for kids and others for adults - all the humour will appeal to everyone. Ostensibly, Toy Story is a children's film but the audience was about 90% adult.

Recommended - but don't bother spending the premium for the 3D version as it doesn't really need the extra special effect.

Another Slaphead Moment

Our Wazzock-In-Chief, Dave the Dimwit, seems set on winning the Dubya Bush Prize for Stupid Comments. First he says that the UK was a 'junior partner' to the USA during the Second World War, which he reckons the Amerikanishers joined in 1940. (Enny fule no that the USA joined  the war in December 1941, after Pearl Harbour, and it was Nazi Germany who declared war on them because the USA had declared war on Japan). Then he shoots his mouth off about Pakistan sponsoring terrorism - of course, elements within Pakistan are doing this but it isn't 'Pakistan' itself, whose people have suffered from terrorism as much as anyone. Now he says, after being questioned about his earlier blunder about WW2, that Iran has nuclear weapons without any evidence that Iran does. Hmm, sounds familiar! - what Iran is doing is generating the threat of nuclear weapons, just like Iraq did under Saddam. Senior officials at the Foreign Office will be grinding their teeth and uttering unkind words.

Cameron's weasels say that he 'misspoke'. I think this might be new-speak for 'He opened his mouth and put his foot in it'.