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.)

Blessed Bibliothecaries, Batman!

I'm still working my way through Chekhov's short stories. Rewarding, but sometimes he spends ages and ages dwelling on the depressing quandary being endured by the central protagonist. For Chekhov, a short story can be anywhere between three pages or a hundred.

Otherwise I been reading:

Further volumes of Spike Milligan's war memoirs, reaching the point where he is invalided out of combat duties because of battle fatigue: Rommel? Gunner Who?; Monty: His Part in My Victory; Mussolini: His Part in My Downfall. The next three volumes are on the shelf awaiting reading.

A couple of crime thrillers by Kate Atkinson:

Case Histories and Started Early, Took My Dog. Atkinson has the knack of keeping you hooked and her books are best enjoyed in one or two sittings. She weaves together a number of threads to get you guessing and then throws in a surprise. But things get sorted out in the end. I expect her books will be turned into a TV series - they feature an inept, down-at-heel but likeable investigator who 'does the right thing'. A good character on which to hang a TV show.

The Cyprus Conspiracy by Brendan O'Malley and Ian Craig, in which they set out in some detail the skullduggery of Henry Kissinger and the CIA (sometimes in conflict with one another); the duplicitous opportunism of the Turks; the pompous ineffectiveness of the British; and the corruption of the Greek Junta. All of which led to the invasion, occupation and partitioning of Cyprus in 1974. Basically, Kissinger is to blame. (Note: Funny old world part 237: Kissinger was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 1973 - he secretly negotiated the withdrawal of American troops from Viet Nam, but that's another story).

Happiness is...

Well. I don't envy Sir Michael Scholar KCB and Stephen Penneck. These are the two government statisticians who have been charged by David Cameron with coming up with a measure of the nation's 'happiness' and 'well-being'. The project is being run by JIll Matheson, the UK's National Statistician. You can join in the debate via The Office for National Statistics' website. I guess we can look forward to household surveys and the like, but if you click on the links you can download the consultation questions and provide some bottom-up input for The Powers That Be. *

It is intriguing that Lord Snooty has chosen to take a statistical approach to a topic that has bothered philosophers from Socrates and Plato down to the present day. I had a general sense of well-being and pleasure last week when Spurs beat Arsenal 3-2 but that is, sadly, only temporary. At the root of the debate is, of course, the definition of terms. Plato talks about the virtue of the soul (which assumes the existence of an immortal soul) and about moral virtue, the use of reason, and acting according to knowledge, leading to a healthy soul. And this leads us to the organised discussion of ethics. But others might define happiness differently. Nietzsche thought happiness came through overcoming hardship and gaining power. Mind you he was generally a gloomy kind of soul. Hume posited that happiness consists in a balance of action, pleasure and indolence. For Epicurus, happiness would be a lucid state, free from worry or, more specifically, not being bothered about Gods because they (he/she/it) aren't concerned with us; avoiding politics; associating with trustworthy and affectionate friends and being virtuous, affectionate and trustworthy yourself.

Be that as it may, I expect  Lord Snooty is looking for a mechanistic rather than a metaphysical methodology. If he, or the statisticians, did Business Studies at GCSE level they will be familiar with Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs (see diagram). Abraham Maslow was a psychologist who developed this model as a theory for understanding motivation - it has been adopted by business schools and management trainers as a way of encouraging employers to help their workers fulfil their potential. In Maslow's model, happiness or well-being equates with 'self-actualisation' - achieving personal fulfilment, personal growth and seeking 'peak experiences'. So it's kind of somewhere between what Plato and his ilk were on about and the more mundane aspects of human existence. Relative outcomes for individuals rather than philosophical absolutes.It remains to be seen to what extent Government policy and expenditure can or will be directed towards providing anything beyond the minimum physiological and safety needs. Maslow's theories don't fit well with present day globalised neo-liberalist economics where exploitation of capital and labour for profit is everything: 
"Classic economic theory, based as it is on an inadequate theory of human motivation, could be revolutionized by accepting the reality of higher human needs, including the impulse to self actualization and the love for the highest values." - Abraham Maslow
* You have until 15 April 2011 to submit your input to the Office for National Statistics.

There's Life In The Old Fart Yet

One old codger who has got to grips with new technology is David Hockney. The Pierre Berge/Yves Saint Laurent Foundation is hosting an exhibition of artwork created digitally by Mr Hockney on either an iPhone or iPad. The images are likewise displayed or projected digitally. Click on the link for info - there's a short video featuring Mr Hockney describing the works. Almost makes Paris worth a visit!

It will be interesting to see how these creations are bought and sold on the art market i.e. entirely digitally by download or including an iPad/projection system.

Sticky Fingers

One of the things that annoys me disproportionately is the way some people handle records. They grip the record carelessly, leaving their greasy fingerprints all over it - you should hold the record by the edge and the label, never touching the playing surface. Your greasy fingerprints will make the dust that inevitably floats around the atmosphere stick to the record, thereby causing it to crackle when played. So, despite her cute little mini-dress, this young lady would not be welcome in my house.

Car Park Chaos

The Welwyn & Hatfield Council runs the Howard Shopping Centre in Welwyn Garden City. It caters for yer average Marks & Spencer/John Lewis customer. The older, middle class demographic rather than yer younger chavvie Primark customer who spends half their life texting or on Facebook. So it was a bit of a mistake to install new-fangled payment machines in the multi-storey car park. Instead of the system where you take a ticket on entry and pay on exit, the new system relies entirely on digital cameras and the customer's ability to work a touch screen. When you drive in and park your car, The All-Seeing Eye of Welwyn & Hatfield takes a photo of your car and number plate. When you want to leave you have to go to The Machine and enter the last three characters of your registration number and The Machine will check its records for photos of cars bearing those characters. You then have to scroll through the photos to identify which is your car, touch the photo and The Machine works out how much you owe. Sounds like a bright idea as it does away with the need to produce tickets via a mechanical system - it's all digital. I expect The All Seeing Eye also takes a photo of your car leaving and can then match that up with its payment records. Presumably defaulters will get a letter in the post demanding money, or maybe there is a Death Ray mounted by the exit which blasts you and your car into nothingness.
But yesterday morning it was causing so much confusion amongst the shoppers that t'Council had to deploy humans to come and work The Machine for the doddery old customers. And even then, it wasn't always coming up with the right photos. So there were three queues of puzzled people, ten or twelve deep, around The Machines and the human operatives were having to just fix it so that everyone paid the minimum charge of £1. And I bet they got really fed up with having to explain things over and over again.

The Diet Starts On Monday

I Can See Your House From Here

A photo of Cyprus taken from the International Space Station (ISS).
More fab photos from the ISS at Triggerpit

Lord Snooty and His Pals

David Cameron was on doctrinally safe ground appointing Lord Young as an 'adviser'. A crony of Maragaret Thatcher and an alumni of the Centre for Policy Studies, the right-wing 'Think Tank' founded by Thatcher and Keith Joseph which set forth the dogma of 'economic liberalism', espousing the radical free-market theories of Hayek and Friedman. But Cameron was a little naive in not appreciating that such a character would inevitably be unsympathetic and insensitive to the feelings of the proletariat.  It was no surprise that he would point out that for some people the recession and financial crisis has had its benefits. But what Lord Young got wrong was trying to  claim that things weren't all that bad really for many of us. Cameron and his chums have spent the last six months telling us that things really are very bad indeed in order to justify their austerity programme and make drastic cuts in public expenditure. By claiming we've 'never had it so good' he was undermining the Government's cover story, so he had to go.

Funny Old world

Our esteemed Chancellor of the Exchequer has offered to lend the Irish Government upwards of £7 billion quid to help them get their banks out of their current financial fix. Nothing wrong with that in principle; most of us are related to someone Irish (e.g. my Grandmother) and one should help out friends and relatives in need (but get it in writing, just in case). Plus, of course, the UK and Irish economies are inextricably linked. What is troubling me is that this is another example of the money concerned not being being backed up by actual wealth but by confidence. And this confidence seems somewhat ephemeral.

The Irish financial crisis has been caused by the banks borrowing money on the financial markets which they have subsequently lent to property developers and the Government. The property market became saturated and collapsed, and the Government has been a tad profligate in its spending, so the banks' creditors are defaulting and thus the banks can't repay the financial markets. So the UK, as well as the IMF and the EU, are going to lend the Irish Government and the banks the money to keep them afloat. But the UK, IMF and EU will have to raise that money on the financial markets by borrowing it. So we're going to borrow money from the financial markets to lend to Irish banks and the Irish Government so that the financial markets don't lose confidence in the Irish banks' and the Irish Government's ability to repay the money they borrowed from the financial markets. The amount owed to the financial markets is thus doubled.

Errm...guess who eventually ends up having to pay back the loan(s)? Not the banks, anyway. It'll be the poor souls who fund the Government with money or actual wealth generated through their labour.

Oo Err Cantona

Eric Cantona. A footballing genius. And now he has come up with a solution for putting right the financial woes and injustices inherent in globalised neo-liberalist capitalism. He suggests that a revolutionary and non-violent approach is needed to bring down the system rather than indisciplined protests such as students and workers in France (and now the UK) have used. He points out that the Powers That Be merely have to contain these protests and then carry on as before. What our Eric proposes is that we should all withdraw all our cash from the banks so that they do actually go bust and the financial system collapses, thereby taking the power away from the bankers. His suggestion has been taken up by some Belgians via Facebook and we are encouraged to withdraw all our cash on 7 December and precipitate a bank crash.

Eric has not set out any plans for what will replace the banks and how commercial activity will proceed thereafter. The line between genius and madness is a fine one.

Lookalikes

Sir,
Did you notice that when Claudia and Alice appeared on Strictly Come Dancing, they were never seen together? Is there something we should know?
Regards,
JULIAN WATSON
Selby
 (from Private Eye)
Addendum: Alice Cooper was the guest on BBC Desert Island Discs Sunday 21 November.

One More Time...

I have been a Beatles fan since late 1962 but there are limits. I bought their singles and EPs, their LPs in mono and then again in stereo. I bought their records again when they were reissued on CD and last year I bought some of them yet again when they were remastered. Now EMI want me to buy them all over again as mp3 downloads from iTunes. I don't think so. McCartney and Ringo and the two widows don't need the money so I would speculate that this is corporate greed on the part of EMI  wanting to milk it one more time before the recording copyright starts to run out in 2012.

EMI needs £217 million quid to sort out its pension fund. The so-called private equity group Terra Firma which owns EMI owes £3.2 billion smackers to Citigroup - not even The Fab Four can make that kind of moolah.

The Flat That Isn't There...

When you have finished building your building you have to apply to t'Council for a 'Certificate of Completion', notwithstanding that the Cypriot understanding of the concept of finished is somewhat variable. However, both the builder and the architect reckon our building is finished so we've applied for The Certificate. Sadly, the bureacrat at t'Council does not consider the project to be finished according to his rules.

First, the builder and architectect have not submitted the correct form of the Journal of Works. The tatty photocopied pages Marinos gave us are not acceptable to the Powers That Be; apparently there is an agreed form of Journal published by the Cypriot Association of Builders and Architects (or somesuch edifice) which must be used. So after much back and forth, including a shouting match between the architect and Jobsworthopoulos at t'Council, we must now wait whilst the architect assembles the correct form of Journal.

Secondly, our planning permission was contingent on there being a parking space for one car - otherwise we would have to pay €5,000 to t'Council as a kind of parking tax even though the payment would not actually provide an actual parking space. We therfeore negotiated with El Prez's uncle to allow us access to the rear of the building so that we could nominate the yard at the back as a parking space. Much back and forth to the Land Registry and expenditure followed to get the respective Title Deeds amended accordingly. But Mr Jobsworthopoulos insists that a parking space must actually be built - this will involve making a small ramp, dismantling a fence and installing a gate. We said "Ho hum. We just haven't done it yet; we'll do it on our next visit. Isn't that enough?" Nope.  This guy is at the opposite extreme of the spectrum to the majority of Cypriots when it comes to the concept of finished. Everything's got to be just so. No Certificate of Completion!

Well, so what? The problem is that until we have the Certificate of completion we cannot amend the Title Deeds via the Land Registry to reflect the fact that there is now a one-bedroom flat and a roof on the building. This means that we cannot either sell the building or transfer ownership to anyone. Officially, the flat does not exist. So, is it finished or not finished?

Nostalgia Ain't What It Used To Be

I usually listen to Pick of the Pops on BBC Radio 2 of a Saturday, or later on yer iPlayer doodad. The programme features records from the charts of the past and it serves to remind you of some good stuff you've forgotten or alternatively to remind you that there's nothing new about crap records being in the charts. For the past few years the DJ has been the estimable Dale Winton who, although a tad over-chirpy at times, used to confine himself to naming the record, artiste and chart position and the occasional bit of trivia. His strangely coloured skin is not much of a problem on radio. However, Mr Winton has been replaced by the execrable Tony Blackburn! Not only does this wazzock have an annoying voice but he also can't resist attempts at making jokes and, worst of all, he's one of those DJs who insist on making the programme about themselves. So he keeps chipping in with tales about his encounters with the artistes concerned and of his fabulous career in show biz. We're not interested Tony!

Ode to Grayson Perry

People say Perry the potter is potty
And his doings are decidedly dotty.
He admits he's a tranny
(looks like a mad granny)
But he can't jet-ski like Pavarotti.

MARTIN PARR!!!

He is a bit good. Shows what one can do with one A level.

Parr is obsessed with what people are obsessed with.
The main topic of conversation in England is the weather, as a nation we are obsessed with the weather. So he made a Photo Book called Bad Weather, series of images of Britain looking dull but rather interesting.

People are obsessed with political leaders. So he has spent many years collecting Margaret Thatcher memorabilia (he hates her by the way). He also collects watches with Saddam Hussein's face on them (he doesn't like him too much either).

Anywho... Mr Parr is an amazing photographer. None of his images are staged. He capture everything as he sees it and doesn't do alot of post processing. He manages to take photographs of people without them realising it, a very clever man.