Gertsamtkunstwerk

An oddling tape

My collection is odd. Sometimes, two records appear on the same home tape for no obvious reason, except timing of acquisition.

I don't recall when I bought Atlantic Soul Classics, and I can't picture the album, which is in the same room as my sleeping fiance. ButI'm pretty sure I have it on vinyl. And there was a logic to buying it. I suppose it's fair to say that most of the tracks are at least fairly good, but despite some rather good tunes, namely Sam and Dave's Soul Man, The Drifters' Under the Boardwalk, and Green Onions by Booker T and The MGs, this is really only worth playing for one track - Otis Redding's (Sittin' On the Dock of the Bay). The rest are wallpaper. Nice enough wallpaper, but nothing remarkable.

The other side is Del Amitri's Waking HOurs. I'm fairly certain that I taped it off my brother's version, although I can't really be sure. And couldn't really care. In the early Nineties there was a feekling that Del Amitri were at the bleeding edge of cynical social comment. I'm still sure they were, but this album doesn't really a do great deal for me now. Except for "Nothing Ever Happens"

Deng Xiaoping died? No one told me

You know, it worries me sometimes. There was a period of life, roughly 1993-98, when I had absolutely no clue what was going on in the outside world. My head was entirely up the arse of Lambeth Politics/UK Electoral Politics, and my only external diversion was following the fortunes of Manchester United. I absolutely have no recall of Deng's death; there are cataclysmic world events that passed over my head.

At least when I resigned from a particular job* I was able to look around a little bit and notice that there was a world out there. Even so, it's scary that I rarely watched the news on the telly for about ten years, except for one six week period of 'resting' and one four monh period of semi-unemployment.

It's like a lost weekend that lasted for a decade.

So when I saw a Photo Gallery| Deng centenary, I immediately thought, "Blimey, he's old..."

What other famous people died between 1993 and 1999?

* the sort of job where you were expected to have no existence outside that organisation; a job that would expect you to go away from home for days on end at the drop of a hat. No wonder I rarely attended any cultural events 1989-1998 - what's the point of booking tickets you'll probably have to return or sell on?

Ravel and Rutter

No reason to put these together except alphabetical proximity...

When we think Ravel, let's face it, which one of us does not think 'Bolero'? And those over a certain age will then think Torvill and Dean or Dudley Moore and Bo Derek. Come on, admit it!

However, M. Ravel did write some other stuff. This CD, featuring Krystian Zimerman, piano, and Pierre Boulez conducting The Cleveland and London Symphony Orchestras (not together...), includes Concerto for piano in G major, Valses nobles et sentimentales, and Concerto for the Left Hand in D major. There's a nice story behind the last piece; it was written especially for pianist Paul Wittgenstein, who lost his right hand in WW1.

The year of production is 1998; I guess that's when I got it. I don't think I have played it very often. You know, I went through a period of two or three years when I barely ever listened to music. Very strange, compared with at least twenty five years of continual need for continuous music.

All the tracks are certainly playing again a few times in the near future. I'm simply not familiar with them. But I like them, I think...

That last paragraph could equally apply to Rutter's Requiem, which has an crystalline exquisitivity about it. In particular, I like the Pie Jesu. the CD also contains miscellaneous other songs, which are pleasant.

Rheingold review

Simon Rattle's Ring of truth, finding the words I abjectly failed to do on Thursday,

Shawshank Reflections

I have to confess that I never heard of it when it was released. In fact I never heard of it until Spring 2001 when someone in the Smoking Room said that it was their favourite film, ever, then a few days later someone on Big Brother said the same thing. A few weeks later it came on the telly, I watched it, and raved about it to Jimmy who said it was one of his favourites, ever...

Hope springs eternal

The first of yesterday's golds...

'Testosterone oozed from the screen' Spot on comment, I reckon.

Although, has anybody dared to ask...what sort of name is Croude for a kid?

Will yesterday go down as one of the Great Days of Brit sport - two sailing, one rowing and one cycling gold, as well as the Equestrian belatedly. And England destroying the Windies with over two days to go...

Amazingly, we have more medals that at this stage of Sydney. Our hockey boys seem to be collapsing in ignominy, though.

Tonight TV alert

At 1900 hours on Channel 4 - Atlantic Britain

I reckon he should have called his ship 'Dignity'*.

I don't have a clue about the quality of the programme, but it's an 8-part series of half hourers. It gets 'Choice' rating in the Radio Times, whose website says

The west coast of Britain is home to an inhospitable stretch of water that has put paid to the hopes - and hulls - of more than 3,000 boats.

"It's a coast that's generally avoided by amateur sailors," understates the narrator of this new series. Enter, with a foolhardy flourish, amateur sailor Adam Nicolson, who decides to embark upon a perilous 1,500-mile trip.

What follows is a delightfully old-fashioned adventure, with local characters and seafaring tales framing the odyssey of Adam (and friend George Fairhurst). Naturally, it's not all plain sailing.

Though Adam's pronouncements occasionally loiter on the wrong side of pretentious, this is an otherwise rollicking voyage through surprisingly unfamiliar waters.

I've set my video: David Beckham's taking us out for dinner tonight (a tenner at 8/1 to score first on Wednesday). Other half is backing Italy to win the Olympic Gold, but my instinct says Iraq. Whether I'm prepared to put my money where my mouth is is another matter...

*Lyrics below...

Coxless 4 Gold

Fourth gold for Pinsent

That is no mean achievement, 4 consecutive golds. I was half expecting him to say "If anybody sees me get into a boat again they have my permission to shoot me."

And James Cracknell now has two in consecutive Olympics.

Steve Redgrave commented that he is no longer a reigning Olympic Champion and that it's been a few years since he's been able to say that. Last time, I was on holiday in Devon following O-Levels. George Michael's Careless Whisper was number one.

Some of you weren't even born...

The Jazz Singer

One of my lickle secrets is my admiration for Neil Diamond. Don't get too carried away, it's not an all-encompassing admiration; I've never seen him live, and am not too bothered whether I do or not.

There was a Labour Party party about three years ago when Dave admitted to being an Andy Williams fan. Slightly tiddly, I mentioned my Neil Diamond thing. Dave contended that Andy Williams was cool; Neil Diamond wasn't. I demurred.

Did you know that, inter alia, Neil Diamond wrote Red Red Wine and some song or other from a Quentin Tarantino film that my brother was well into in Sixth Form...until I pointed out that Neil Diamond wrote it. Ruined his whole Christmas Day... :-)

But Greatest Hits we get onto a lot later. I am specifically blogging the OST from The Jazz Singer. One of the first - no, the first, film I went to without parents. Saturday afternoon matinee, coupled with Kramer vs Kramer, probably eighteen months after release - they could do that in those days, because few people had videos. I went with Poison Kathy, just a few weeks before Sale Odeon closed down. And for Christmas I requested the album, along with a Barry Manilow album and a United scarf. Fortunately, stick-in-the-mud parents objected to two whole albums, and got me Neil Diamond and the United scarf. Wise decision.

Even as I listen to it on home tape, I can feel and smell the Vinyl. Second only to Shellac; yet with far more flexibility than Shellac. Even as recently as 1981, Vinyl was Sophistication. With its sensual ritual of removing plain paper envelope from artistic cardboard sleeve; removing twelve inches of glory from the white envelope. Blowing off the speckles; often using the cloth to wipe off the particles attracted by static. Placing it on the multi-changer, checking that the speed was right - oh what riotous times we had playing 33s at 45, or vice versa. You had trouble if you realised it was playing at 78 - that also meant you had the wrong stylus.

I happened to be 331/3 on the Eve of the 2001 General Election. As we partook, unenthusiastically, of the traditional pre-Election drink, as England beat Greece, to all but qualify for 2002 World Cup, I mentioned my 331/3 birthday. Many toasts were raised, and drunk in respect of significance.

Neil Diamond's Jazz Singer? Just a really cool album. Don't ask for intellectual comment - a fine selection of fine songs. And what more can you ask at 13 going on 14, or at 36 going on old?

Love on the Rocks; On the Robert E. Lee; summer Love; Hello Again; Hey Louise; and Jerusalem.

Like 'em, don't like 'em -I don't care. I like Neil Diamond.

There goes my Blog-Cred...

When I was at secondary school, one of the most popular obscure pop singers was a chap called Chris de Burgh. A lot of people got into him after spending holidays with Irish cousins. He produced some realy good, quirky songs on quirky albums, which sold only moderately well in the UK charts. It was a perennial mystery why they didn't sell better, why he wasn't better known, and why he made no impact on the singles chart. I used to have The Getaway on a pirate tape (it got chewed), and I still remember some of those classic tracks: Don't Pay the Ferryman and Ship to Shore, especially.

I still have Spanish Train and Other Stories, which contains some seriously good songs, not one a turkey, and every one of them listenable in itself...

Then after A-Levels, astonishingly, and even more bizarrely, his worst song, ever, shot into the charts and went to Number 1, with talk about 'Overnight Sensation', an ignorant description of someone who had been making quality records for eleven years. Thus began the long slide to my disillusionment with Radio One and the UK Chart record industry.

Naturally, I bought Into The Light, despite the awfulness of Lady in Red. There are some really good songs on it: Last Night, Fire on the Water, Say Goodbye To It All, Fatal Hesitation and The Leader/The Vision/What About Me?

I have never bought any Chris de Burgh subsequently, I still love Spanish Train and Into the Light, and it remains an unfathomable mystery why someone can go from being obscure and talented to very famous, bland and talentless.

Jealousy

It's pretty pathetic, really. Everyone has a List, right. His list is Paula Radcliffe, and all of Adiemus. Paula was on the front of last week's Radio Times; Paula is dominating our telly on Sunday. And that's cool. I suggest if he wants to lose to his post-giving-up-smoking weight gain, he aims for the London Marathon next April, because *Paula* will be running. I'm encouraging that.

My list is Plácido. No one else. Yes, I like Trevor Eve as Supt. Boyd. Yes, think Cristiano Ronaldo is one helluva footballer. But neither is on The List. Not on the 'I'd Jeopardise our Relationship for A Shag' List. Everyone has to have The List. By having The List, you safeguard The Relationship...

Fiancé gets jealous. Yesterday's delPrado DVD is Samson & Delilah, from San Francisco 19 Eighty something. (The next one is Plácido in Aida - oy vey). I haven't viewed it yet. But I showed Fiancé the booklet, showing hunky Plácido not over-dressed. Fiancé makes disparaging comments about legs. I don't understand why. I say, said Hunk was instructed to give up football at age 60; I'd like to see fiancé play football at age 56, let alone 60. Some stupid comment about millionaires being allowed to do what they want, obsequiously. I suggest Cast vs Orchestra is not a friendly fixture. Makes Hand-in-Hand vs Sultan (my Road's annual grudge match) look like the Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy. Although nothing beats the NAO's Unit B vs The Rest of the World match - which was ace to witness on the morning after just for the injuries....

Tell me, Ladies in particular, what is more manly - the one who gives up football at 60 on doctor's insurer's orders or the one who gives it the mouth at 56, that Sultan vs Hand is too easy for his fine physique?

Post smoking giving up, we are still in negotiations about Diet Tactics. It's P1 or P2 - run a London Marathon, or cut back on alcohol and desserts.

Y'know Fiancé is jealous of Plácido. I'm not jealous of Paula. I want Paula to win Gold.

Did you know that the Olympic Classical Album features Plácido and Adiemus?

Did you also know that the sun has sunk over the yard-arm?

Technical advice needed

I am in the process of reconstructing and expanding my catalogue of all my recordings, to go hand-in-hand with The Project. I expect it will take me until I am forty...

Obviously with tapes, and some older/obscurer CDs the only viable way is plain boring typing. But with some (most?) CDs all I have to do is load the CD into the PC, open WinAmp, access the CCDB, and copy and paste each track detail into Excel. The copy-and-paste is tedious, and I was wondering if there was a way that I could do it for the entire CD in one swoop, and then play about in Excel. I do not wish to pay any money for the privilege of this.

Secondly, I have been hanging onto the PC I replaced in 2002 mainly because it contains the 'old' database. I transferred it to this one, then this one had a fatal crash before I had done a back-up. The floppy containing the 'old' database was corrupted, and I kept meaning to get back to the old PC to transfer. Now I can't be arsed, so there's no point in keeping the old PC. I ususally put old electrical equipment on the street and someone takes it (it's known as Community Recycling). I don't want to do that with this one, and I don't want to just donate it to charity, because there is some personal stuff, some confidential stuff (old work and council casework)and some potentially embarrassing (downloaded and self-penned erotic - okay, porno - fiction). I guess the simple solution is to smash it with a hammer - whilst wearing goggles, of course. Anyone have any better solutions?

Prom 39

I never got round to writing a review of Berlioz, Saint-Saens and Vienna which I attended last Saturday. The Guardian sums my feelings perfectly. It was enjoyable, but nothing special. The Berlioz, actually, was crap, the programme note being a greater work of art that thrilled me more than the actual music.

Jimmy enjoyed the second half - Vienna - but didn't think much of the first. Admittedly, we had bad seats - circle, on the extreme right end, with half of our view obscured by the acoustic canopy. Th eorgan was less exciting than any other outing this year.

In the Ladies afterwards were a mother and daughter (late teens) just in front of me. It was their first Prom; I suspect it may have been the daughter's first 'proper' concert. They were enthusiastic in their use of superlatives. I was thinking "Gosh your expectations are low..." but I'm not a nasty person, so I said, "You know, when you've been once it becomes habit forming..." The daughter looked at me with awe and asked "Are you going to every one?" "No," I replied. "About ten or twelve..." Actually it's nine, or eight if you exclude the one I skived.

But it's more than habit forming. It's addictive...

Russians

By slightly strange circumstances, my tapes and CDs are both up to group of Russian composers.

I open with Prokofiev. I think that Prokofiev is one of the first composers most of us encounter, because Peter and the Wolf. It is some time later that we learn that Prokofiev's music was regarded as somewhat challenging in the middle of the last century. No, not that nice man that wrote Peter and the Wolf. This particular version is narrated by Sting. And narrated very well, I might add. And I really like the Overture on Hebrew Themes.

Next up is Rachmaninov. On cassette we have Vladimir Ashkenazy and the Concertgebouw/Philharmonia orchestras under Bernard Haitink playing the first Piano Concerto and Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini. strange really, I can listen objectively and say that not only are they fine tunes but also really rather beautiful music. But only objectively. They don't affect me emotionally. Strange, innit?

We have a tape of the same artists, with the Concertgebouw, playing Rachmaninov 2 and 4 piano. No 2 is one of those pieces that, even if it was the only piece he had ever composed would be enough to convince of his place in the pantheon of Greats. Soaring and lyrical. I am listening to the first movement of Four with new ears. It really is quite something

His Vespers has a strange beauty all of its own. Based on the order for the Russian Orthodox church, it does not strike me as especially Russian. But it is clearly different from Western plainchant. I can't really put my finger on it, but I have realised that it is seriously underplayed in my life, and definitely merits more frequent airings, especially when I want to be contemplative.

Perhaps I ought to put Rachmaninov on my to-do list and the 2CdD four concerti on my longer term wishlist...

I have a tape that I bought when I was a stude, for �1.50 or something, and despite frequent plays, it is still in tip-top condition. It contains, on one side, Rimsky-Korsakov's Scheherazade, which has been on my long-list for the desert island for twenty years now. One of the pieces is in 1/4 time, which must be devilishly difficult to conduct. a comment that makes me realise that I have never seen a performance of this live or on TV, because that would be the sort of thing to watch the conductor for. I used to play along to this in my percussion lessons all those years ago.

The other side is Tchaikovsky's Capriccio Italien. Very pleasant and lyrical, although far from being my favourite Tchaik.

New Posh-Becks Baby?

Posh sees baby doc

A source close to the singer said: �Victoria has no real work commitments at the moment as she isn�t releasing any records. It�s the perfect time to have another child.

No work commitments? But how can that be? A talented superstar diva like Mrs B.?

Well, I'm sure she'll now have plenty of time to breed an entire football team, plus subs.

Car crash stats

Britain's worst drivers have brown cars.

Interesting little piece. I would treat the stats with extreme caution. It's interesting to see that a small proportion of Dorises and Mavises male insurance claims, but if we're going to generalise, I expect that most Dorises and Mavises put in low mileage, leaving the long distance driving to, er, Archie and Ernest. Actually, Archie and Ernest probably only pootle around town with the occasional <100-mile-round trip for a day out.

Sam, Phil and Rob are probably putting in the miles as Mondeo Man, as are Juliet, Natalie and Justine.

I would suggest that the more miles you drive per year, the more likelihood you have of being in accident, regardless of your standard of driving.

8 A-Levels

The Mirror says Exams Are Easier. Let's be charitable and say A-Levels are different from twenty years ago. I don't know anybody of my generation who got more than five. The norm was three, or four including General Studies. I can't imagine any school in the 1980s allowing people to do more than four, or five.

I can't believe that someobody got 100% for History. That isn't right. It is possible to get 100% for Maths, because you're either right or wrong. Indeed, I am sure that I got over 100% for Stats* but in History, 100% is saying that this 18-year old showed a perfect recall of facts and a perfect analysis of causes, effects etc. Well, that is clearly not the case, because History is always open to revision, even the 'facts' change, not all effects are obvious.

Yet that above rant seems like an attempt to belittle the efforts of the youngsters who should be proud of their achievements. And galling, when they have worked their guts out, to be told it's a cinch. Just because a good or excellent performance is more likely to result in a A doesn't make it easy to put in that performance. Back in the 80s grades were awarded on a quota basis. Sometimes a band of only three or four percentage points separated a 'B' - a good pass - and a 'D' - a not very good pass. Universities made strict grade, not points, offers, so that very narrow band actually signified the difference between 'pass' and 'fail' in many people's minds. And you were only being rated on your performance relative to the achievements of other people in that subject .

I would like to think that the evidence of more people getting 5+ A-Levels indicates a young population with a broader base of knowledge, with more mixing the disciplines. But the evidence seems to indicate otherwise.

And, of course, A-Levels only represent the achievements of an elite. Apparently the introduction of AS Levels has led to more people leaving at 17. They realise that academia is not for them, but having some AS Levels means that they don't feel that Lower Sixth has been a waste. And then there are the huge numbers that don't even to get to GCSE level. In my godson's year only six stayed on for GCSE: 'the Losers' have all asked him (11 A'/A*s predicted for next week...) to give them a job when he's a successful businessman (under his breath he mutters 'when you come out of prison'). What I find quite scary is that by the age of fifteen or sixteen it is easy to predict with reasonable certainty the life-chances of the vast majority of the population. And their children.

*Stats and Maths papers were structured with 120 possible marks. It was assumed that the 'average' person could tackle 100 marks worth in the three hours. Indeed, in Pure, I don't think I tackled more than 90 marks worth. Whereas in Stats I did the whole paper. I was lucky - my most difficult topic had the easiest question compared to past papers. The most diffcult questions were on topics where I was justified in feeling confident.

Ooh, look, the Guardian says pretty much what I said...

Das Rheingold

First in an occasional series of reviews. Well, four to be exact. The final one will occur in 2007. Tonight was the opening night of the first ever Proms Ring Cycle. And there was a palpable buzz around the place. For ease of reference, when I link back over the next three years I have put cast details in the Extended Entry.

I arrived quite early and went up to the circle, thinking, get drink, read programme, etc. A young steward challenged me in quite a confrontational way. "Where are you going?" "The bar" I said in that questioning sardonic way. "It's over there," he said, pointing in the direction I was heading. "I know," I replied. Did I look like a trouble maker?

Halfway through I saw a group of about half a dozen teenagers being shepherded out of the Arena (prom area) by a steward. I was perplexed. They did look a bit young to have come to a concert performance of a Wagner opera without parents. But it didn't appear that they were causing trouble. And, I assume, they must have paid to get in. Strange.

I also saw quite a few adults leave at various stages of the evening. I suppose if you have another engagement to attend it's better to go to half a concert than none. but I can't imagine that so many people had nine o'clock engagements. They didn't look like the type. Quite how they'll cope with Walkürie, Siegfried and Götterdammerung, twice the length of this, a mere prelude, I don't know. And rubbishy comments about the difficulty of Wagner. Rheingold is so accessible, so lyrical, so orchestrally lush, so beautiful. I'm waiting impatiently for my Covent Garden Rheingold tickets .

The performance. I was thoroughly impressed by it. A good ensemble of singers, all of whom projected above the orchestra clearly into the Circle. I had a wonderful time changing my mind about which voice type I like best. Through the course of the evening I had a preference for all the voices on offer. And again I conclude I like the contralto voice the most - Erda is a contralto, and Fricka a dramatic mezzo, but Yvonne Naef is listed as contralto.

Funny that, because I don't think any of my favourite female singers are contraltos, and I think counter-tenor is my least favourite. Or maybe heldentenor is really my favourite, Certainly Loge is the best part in this opera and Kim Begley was excellent. Probably the best perfomer overall was Oleg Bryjak as Alberich. Willard White as Wotan sounded wonderful but sang the role as straight concert, which was a shame. In fact, there wasn't a weakest link, at all.

There is something about this music that just gets to me every time. Especially the Finale to Scene 4 which gave me goosepimples and sent something rushing through my bloodstream, And I finished up by crying - not because of the story or drama but because of the music. That's not really me, you know.

It was interesting to see some period instruments, but I'm not sure, other than a gimmick, what they actually added to the performance. I very much liked Simon Rattle's use of tempi - some bits fair galloped by, but he slowed down the tempo when it was right to do so.

It's a shame that Radio 3 isn't doing it as Listen Again, nor as a repeated one. Whereas, they're doing both for the one I went to last Saturday, which was...disappointing.

I can't wait until January (or December) when I see it at Covent Garden. In the meantime, Siegfried at ENO; and next year will, presumably, include Gotterdammerung at ENO in the early Spring followed by a run* of Walküries - one Spring and three July (From my mouth to God's ears) at Covent Garden, and a Summer one at the Proms.

*I suppose that ought to be a ride, but I'm only counting five, a bit short, I think.

Update: Excellent Observer Review, with which I largely concur...

The Eighties

My Decade for pop music! Eighties pop tart, me.

Two Double CDs.

Many of the featured tunes are separately featured on Artist Albums in the Gert Collection. Most of the rest are on tapes-off-the radio.

Alternative Eighties. Oh yes, practically orgasmic. Even the liner notes are amusingly designed, containing a picture of hand-written home cassettes.

I cannot be objective about this music. I don't know what people twenty years older or younger than me make of it. Do I care? I'm not sure I do - with respect! This is the music I grew up with. I started secondary school in September 1979 and graduated from Uni in July 1989. Many of these tunes probably don't stand scrutiny on their merits, but they are (nearly) all so very familiar, in my bloodstream, and so very evocative of times and places, people and passions. I started this entry by listing all the 'great' tracks, but then I realised that I was listing almost everything, so I thought it easier to link to album details, not something I am making a habit of on this All the Records by Forty project.

Looking through, I am surprised at how few of the artist albums I actually own. Imagine how massive my record collection would be if I had been a rich kid!

The Ultimate Eighties is far more mainstream, with nearly all the tracks featured on artist albums I own. If I say Queen, Bowie, U2, Pet Shop Boys. Frankie Goes to Hollywood, you�ll get my drift, and you'll have to wait until I reach that artist in my blogging - or look back through the archives.

Memorable tracks not on artist albums are Black's Wonderful Life, Paul Young's Love of the Common People, Dexys Midnight Runners' Come on Eileen, Soft Cell's Tainted Love and the Bluebells' Young at Heart. Closest this album gets to a turkey is INXS's Need You Tonight, which is no worse than 'boring'.

I can't believe that we were so privileged to have such a wide selection of really good music in the 80s. I do not believe that I love this album, and frequently play it, just because of memories. I really do believe that it is of a better quality than any previous or subsequent decade of pop-pop-pop music.

Gosh, I am such an Eighties Pop Tart...!

Forgetfulness

I have often experienced the not being able to pinpoint the precise word I need, but it seems to be happening with increasing frequency, and for words I ought to know. On Friday, I couldn't remember souk, Saturday it was 'miracle cure' - the context of the Pope going to Lourdes ought to be synonymous with 'miracle cure'. I struggled momentarily there with synonymous, but at least it came to me as soon as I started typing symbisomething. In my last post, I had to use thesaurus to find 'vandalism'.

I've always a slight habit of substituting homonyms - this morning I nearly posted something on 'paeons to populism' and I have just realised I meant pandering. At least I think I do; M$ Thesaurus suggests pimp or procurer as an alternative; the sexual negotiator is supported by my Collins dictionary and substantiated etymologically by Ask Oxford.

So, in fact we use the word 'pander' inappropriately.

And now I can't find paeon in the dictionary, even though I did earlier, so I've obviously spelt it wrong. It won't be peon - now that's an interesting entymology...

I hope it's just a temporary lapsus mensis.

ASBOs in reality

This is not a comment on the policy on Anti-Social Behaviour Orders...

My cousin lives directly opposite the ultimate chav family. There are ten children in the family, no visible father or step-father and general unruliness prevails. Needless to say, one of the (young) teenage girls is visibly pregnant. There have been various incidents over the years - juvenile drunkenness, throwing stones at traffic on a busy A-road, criminal damage, frequent police visits - you know the usual repetitive shit that makes neighbours' lives unpleasant, if not unbearable. And the usual collection of old sofas and fridges dumped in the garden.

The 12-year old has an ASBO. Leaflets - doubled-sided glossy A4 folded in three - were distributed to the neighbours. My cousin showed me. It's impressive. It names the child and shows a picture, listing his various acts of thuggery and vandalism, with instructions to report to the police any similar behaviour.

I don't know if it will do any good, but, surely, it must be mortifying to have the whole town standing and pointing derivisely, and taking great pleasure in grassing up your every move.

It also gives great inspiration and scope for Photoshopping - we're thinking of using it as a template for a missive to be circulated around the family featuring our Aunt, the Wicked Witch...

What I have learned today...

Greek mythology is one of those subjects that has always almost fascinated me. We studied it quite extensively, if necessarily superficially, in first year at Secondary School, both in History and in English, where we read an abridged child-friendly version of Homer's Odyssey. We also alluded to it in Political Theory at University when studying the Great Philosophers, notably Aristotole, Socrates, and my favourite, Plato. However, it has never fascinated me enough to do any serious reading.

have seen various references to Sisyphus, both in the blogosphere and on Usenet, and today I discovered that the gods set Sisyphus the task of rolling a stone up hill; when he got near the top it rolled back down again. It serves as an apt metaphor for so many futile tasks. I found a thought-provoking use of the metaphor on Thor's China Diary.

I was also quite shocked to find out a few days ago that Odysseus had sex with a woman other than Penelope on his Odyssey. I think they cut that from the abridged version. I think I deprecate abridged versions; you tend to think that they allow you to tick the 'Read already' box, but by arbitrarily cutting the sexual bits they omit the bits about real life, and, arguably, only tell part of the story.

Who's the daddy?

The Mirror poses the vital question:
Is It Mine?

Reading this makes me realise what a snob I am. This is a typical chav dilemma round here. However, when it concerns middle-class professionals, I am all sympathy, even empathy, thinking 'what a difficult situation to be in'.

Analyse and discuss...

Just for the record, I am posting this post from my home PC...

The Guardian comments on the coverage. I half heard on the radio yesterday some refernce to a comment from Anne Atkins that his situation was - I don't quote - a resigning matter.

I repeat what I, and many people wiser than me, have said before - most people have some mess in their life. It seems, however, that we expect our politicians to be without mess, to have chosen a life partner when barely out of adolescence and to stick with same til death they do part, breeding perfect children, and magically owning perfect siblings, parents, in-laws, friends etc. Apart from being an unrealistic expectation, and one likely to deter real people from entering the public arena, it has a more fundamental flaw.

If by chance we had this 'perfect' politician, with no history, and no emotions, we would have a politician with no understanding of the reality of most people's lives, and no understanding of why ordinary people do not comply with statutory or societal edicts and expectations.

On the voyeurism aspect, I think we have to accept that it is a normal part of the human condition. If we have less handwringing, and more acceptance that all lives are messy, we can move on, and perhaps a more generalised acceptance will lead to less appetite for it. I'm not even saying that people should change their personality moral code.

In the past it, in some cases in my lifetime, the following have been considered scandulous: a young unmarried woman being in the company of a man without a chaperone; co-habiting; platonically housesharing with the opposite sex; birth or even conception outside of wedlock; divorce. Can you imagine the scandal sheets even beginning to sell on an exclusive that some male politician houseshared with a woman when they were students, or that some unmarried female politician was seen with a male colleague without a chaperone. Things are only scandulous because we want them to be! Can you imagine the scandal even in the 1950s if someone had foretold that within thirty years there would be a woman Prime Minister - a woman! - who was married to a divorcé Even by the mid-Seventies, it was clearly not regarded as an issue.

Award the BAFTAS...now!

Waking the Dead.

How do they do it? Week after week, they give us two hours of spell-binding, intelligent, stimulating drama. There is nothing I can fault. Tonight's was in a class of its own, but all the rest of the series has been better than any other drama on the TV.

The storyline is consistent from start to end, yet you never know until the last few minutes 'who dunnit' Each week they come up with a different, seemingly far-fetched, line, and each week it resolves into perfect logic. The main characters are three-dimensional, despite their almost lack of personal life (and I love that lack of personal life, I really do). Each of the five main actors* play their parts superbly. Understatement and nuance being far more important than melodrama.

The episodic characters are always believeable, and they've got a good ensemble of guest stars. Paul Kay was outstanding in this week's.

Everything about the production speaks class from the lighting and camera work to the music and forensics. I assume that the forensics are (more-or-less) accurate; I find them totally fascinating, to the point that they overlap into other viewing - eg I watched the first act of Tosca on Artsworld (Acts 2 and 3 have been taped) and when Scarpia was searching for Angelotti in the church and found the fan of the Marchesa Attavanti, I assumed they were going to test for DNA, or at least fingerprints (in Napoleonic times?).

I don't know if anybody noticed, but the closing scene when Boyd is writing on the perspex board, the music playing was clearly influenced by the sublime Benedictus from Karl Jenkins' Armed Man: A Mass for Peace. Kind of ironic that Karl Jenkins started his composing career writing music for TV that 'sounds like something familiar' and he is now being sampled in the same way. But what a fitting tribute...**

At the end, they had a screen saying "In Memory of Alexei de Keyser 1967-2004". He was Executive Producer. What a fine legacy he left...

Oh, and Trevor Eve is really quite delectable to the eye...

*/** see below

Breaking news

Village hit by 3m-tall flood wave

Not in boring, moderate, temperate England? Not in August? Surely?

I have a couple of friends who hale from those parts.

One day, people will wake up to the dangers of Global warning and stop driving their petrol guzzling cars and their insistent on air-conditioning.

'tis romantic, to be sure

Personal ads in the Dublin News

My favourite:

Limerick man, 27, medium build, brown hair, blue eyes, seeks alibi for the night of February 27 between 8 PM and 11:30 PM.

John Two Jobs Prescott

Prescott leaps to aid of kayaker

Not only is he running the country in Tone's absence, but he also acts as Caped Crusader.

A true working-class middle-class hero. We salute you Prezza!

Time for tag

It's about time I changed my tagline - it currently reads 'note literary, literal or cliterate.'

Any suggestions? A Special Prize might go to especially inspired ones...

Bad start

Premiership | Chelsea 1-0 Man Utd

No doubt the Chelsea fans are drinking themselves into simultaneous aggression and oblivion, deluding themselves they've already won the Title...

Sad, innit?

Breathe in, breathe out

I'm thinking of starting a blog category called "Things that my boyfriend and I argue about..."

Or maybe, "Accumulated stupidity/arrogance that puts me in a bad mood..."

Yesterday I did a major tidy of the back room, and I mentioned that I intended doing the same for the front room. During the week we both need to find time to do the main bedroom. Please could he ensure that he tidies up his things from the front room.

So what does he decide to do - vacuum the bedroom. He takes a break, and while I have the very peaceful Rachmaninov's Vespers on the CDplayer, he decides to channel flick - 'Allo Allo, ghastly Sky News - so WHAT if Blunkett's in a relationship with a married woman. It's not news, it's just advertising for a notoriously salacious gossip rag. Then the Olympics "This scoring's very hard to understand isn't it?" Unspoken reply, "I haven't a fucking clue because I'm in another room, and, thus, can't see what sport is on the TV."

I was busy screwing the window locks back in, so he walks in and holds out "Some paperwork from under the bed...". Sub-text being 'drop whatever is it you're doing so you can take this paper from me'. Grrr.

And don't start me on the washing up. Exactly the same as my mother. They both go on like they are the angels of washing up. So, then, why do they both leave rings on mugs, dried up tomatoes on plates. I may not do it very frequently, but at least I do it properly. And I tend to have wash everything again before use...