Organised Underground

It's rare, but once in a while London Transport puts someone in a role that suits them to a T.

On arrival at Kings Cross this morning, the announcement to the awaiting throng was:

"OK, everybody, we all know the procedure: stand to the side of the doors and let people OFF the train first! And if you don't like the look of this one, there's another in one minute! Thankyou for your cooperation!"

This was said with a chummy authority vastly in contrast with the usual looking-down-at-his-shoes native Londoner mumble which is an unfortunate standard across the capital.

Hoorah that chap!

Bad Vibe

Twenty-odd years ago, an acquaintance asked my opinion of a local character whom I had been at school with.

With the then recent Hungerford events in mind, I replied:

"If anyone from Hamworthy is going to walk into the Arndale Centre, and machine gun a crowd of people it would be Kevin Burbidge!"

When we were eight years old, he was probably my best mate.

Deep Reading; Castille v. The Mexica

I've been wading through "The Conquest of Mexico" by Hugh Thomas.

This is just one of the paragraphs:

"Cuauhtémoc's mother was Tiacapantzin, heiress of Tlatelolco (daughter, that is, of Moquihuix, the last king there).⁴ Until he was grown up, Cuauhtémoc had apparently lived at Ixcateopan, in what is now the state of Guerrero, and which was inhabited by the Chontal Maya. But he seems to have returned to Tenochtitlan some years before the arrival of the Castilians.⁵ he then seems to have become the leader of the people of Tlatelolco at a very young age." ⁶

Every paragraph in the book reads like this. This is on page 451, and I've another 170 to go.

Typically, just when you get the hang of who somebody is, they get sacrificed.

Good book though, and he does warn the reader in the preface what to expect, so I was warned.

However, I'll be avoiding Thomas' "Cuba" which is 1200 pages in very much the same fashion.

Anteater On Speaker

Frost Nixon

I was pleasantly surprised how deep this film was, as I wondered how they wring a whole film out of what was essentially just a TV interview.

I was missing the point, and the story told, and the epic proportions that are aspired to is an eye-opener.

Frank Langella should win the Oscar for his facial gestures alone.

Hoorah!

Neutering Tutti Frutti

Although my neighborhood boasts two of the best restaurants in the capital, (La Kera)(which means in Britain, or let's face THE WORLD), the fact that they are yards apart heightens the cruelty that the nearest bar The Duke of Edinburgh is a shit-hole.

It's the only nearby pub, and those who would like a pre-prandial pint have traditionally been put off by the sight of this fore-mentioned SHIT-HOLE on their way to these excellent restaurants.

Well, imagine my glee to discover that the Duke of Edinburgh has had a make-over!

I assumed that this was in keeping with its proximity to the trendy eateries and that they had identified the up-market diners as their new clientele.

Well, that was until tonight, when I went on an early evening recky to the said drinking establishment in order to establish its new found credentials.

It's only seven minutes walk from our house, so it's a potential local.

However; on entering at 7:50pm on a Saturday night I was a little disturbed that I was the only customer, apart from the woman on the stool at the bar, who may well have been the barmaid awaiting customers to serve.

I was served by the bloke at the bar who had the air of a landlord who had been there forever, who had just spent a fortune on refurbishing his establishment in a desperate bid to attract a new class of client, without understanding exactly who that new client was exactly.

I ordered a pint of cider, and—wary of the big screen showing "Queen at Wembley" —sat down and opened my book.

I hate Queen. Queen represent everything that is wrong with rock music. If the Church of England is the Tory Party at prayer, Queen are the Conservative Candidates in Lycra.

And do you know, I could not sit in this empty pub drinking cider and listening to Queen (at one point neutering Tutti Frutti). I drank up, and just as another chap entered, belching with the confidence of one of the old locals, I left, knowing that I would never return.

The Duke of Edinburgh is doomed, because there are still people in the world that think Freddy Mercury was any good, and don't have the sense to ask the passers by on their way to the restaurants what THEY would want in a nearby pub.

And to think there are still three members of Queen still alive: shocking.

Solo Cinema Outing

I finally achieved an ambition today, by being the only person in the cinema at the Screen on the Green to see the hagiographic Che Part 1.

No doubt the projectionist was pissed off to see me, as it meant he had to actually stay and run the film, rather than spending the afternoon flitting between the bookies and the the pub.

A friend of mine almost achieved lone viewer status at the Continental in Bournemouth in the mid-eighties, only to be thwarted by a late entrant who shuffled in as the movie opened; only to sit in the seat DIRECTLY IN FROM OF HIM!

"If only he had a top hat, it would have been perfect!" remarked Mark, who had to harumpf loudly and demonstrably move to an unimpeded seat; which was in abundant supply.

Che is a very good war film that makes revolutionary uprisings look exciting, sexy and fun. And Ernesto looks like a saint.

Viva la revolution!

Left Handed Man in White House

I'm glad everyone is pleased, but I'm cynical.

Obama is rich man in power, like all the others.

He also has an in-tray to deal with which will soon flatten most of the ambition for change.

It's how he overcomes the limitations of his office which will mark him out, and it takes more than a nice smile and good catch phrase to change the world.

The Saints - Know Your Product (1978)

Didn't particularly respond to The Saints back in the punk wars, but when I walked in on a colleague watching this I was amazed that I missed this gem first time round. Saxophones with fuzz guitar.

If you don't get it, play it a second time.

A great loud record in a great tradition.

Edinburgh Newspaper Sales Up

You know that scene in a drama when the protagonist finds themself facing public embarrassment, and therefore sets about buying all the newspapers before anyone can find out? (It even happened to Christopher in the Sopranos)

Couldn't really happen could it? No-one would actually attempt such folly, surely?

Well, according to the BBC a court in Edinburgh heard that

A spokesman said: "I can confirm that a teacher at Whitecraig Primary, acting upon her own initiative and without consulting East Lothian Council, asked the school's janitor to buy up all copies of the East Lothian Courier from shops in Whitecraig when the news about Mr Melville broke in March 2008

Mr Melville was into child porn.

Forecast: Fundamental Financial Flaw Floors Findus

Former family favourite frozen food firm, Findus , famous for fish fingers, faces factory foreclosure following financial failure.

Vision On: The Blogosphere Years

Check out this project by Italian funsters Dodo Dada Dado

Who needs artschool?

Big Freeze: Picture Exclusive

Yes, I knew they wouldn't dry, but I thought I could at least let the laundry drip for a while.

It's something when you have to open the french windows to get the width to bring the washing in!

Tomatoes In Nomenclature Misadventure

On answering the phone, I was please to hear that my partner was at the shop on her way home, asking if there was anything I needed. There was, actually, thankyou very much, I needed tinned tomatoes.

Well, imagine my dismay when she tipped these out of her "bag for life".

EAST END chopped tomatoes! Who the hell would buy EAST END chopped tomatoes?

I can't imagine that anyone IN THE EAST END would buy EAST END tomatoes?

Not that I have anything against the people of the East End, apart from the racism, casual violence and inability to reach the end of the road without dropping litter everywhere. No, I'm sure it's a lovely place really if you survived long enough to get to know it, but really, who the hell thought of the title "EAST END CHOPPED TOMATOES"?

Mind you, once I'd established that the fruit was not actually FROM the East End, (Italy in fact), I proceeded to knock together a rather delicious mushroom in garlic pasta dish, which was just the thing!

EAST END tomatoes, indeed!

Pah!!

Author As An Absence Of Light

Atheist Bus Goes Nationwide

Londoners have recently been treated to a number of buses carrying the message:

There's probably no God. Now stop worrying and enjoy your life

Having collected and unexpected windfall in support, those concerned have chosen to send the message out into the provinces.

A great idea, but it's a shame that those that featured in the
Guardian article are so self-seekingly irritating.

Reminds me of an old Sean Hughes line:

"I disturbed a burgular last night: I said; THERE IS NO GOD!"

Metal Of The Day: Tantalum

Tantalum

Element (Ta), Atomic No. 73, density 16.6 kg/litre, M.Pt 2996°C

First isolated in 1802 by Ekeberg.

A hard blue-coloured metal with a very high melting point. Too expensive and difficult to work for regular coinage, but once again Fred Zinkann has made a medal in this material.

Some fantasy coins for the Islas Malvinas (Falkland Islands) are known, as is a bimetallic silver-tantalum coin from Kazakhstan

Thanks to ukcoinpics

Yes, I have little to say at the moment.

Thatcher Bastard Dead

After her glowing praise for psychopathic dictator Pinochet, Margaret Thatcher once more displays her insensitivity to the rest of humanity in the face of the death of right of right wing finance advisor Alan Walters. For those that don't remember the old cunt, he's the one that declared that he found it unpleasant to view poor people, and thus avoided doing so whenever possible.

Meanwhile, whilst the evil old witch herself clings on to undeserved life, I was amused by Frankie Boyle's observations of the debate regarding whether Margaret Thatcher should be given a state funeral, at a cost of £3 million.

"£3 million?" proclaimed Boyle, "That's enough to buy everyone in Scotland a shovel, and we could dig a hole so deep we could hand her over to the devil in person!"

It can't be long, surely.

In fact, let's not wait: let's pay the £3 million and bury her now, with Elgar's Pomp and Circumstance is accompanied by the sound of her nails scratching at the lid being slowly drowned by the soil shoveled onto her coffin by a member of the former mining community.

Type With Fresh Breath Confidence!

For those interested in Fonts, the people at thequickbrownfoxjumpsoverthelazydog have produced a Helvetica based typeface using Toothpaste and Tomato Ketchup.

Take a look, it's fab, and free to use!

Retrospective New Year

Yes, we were too old to go out last night, apart from an hour around the pub which was just us sat there bemoaning the clothes sense of young people today. Why won't they just pull their jeans up? Why don't other people run up and pull them down? How did such a stupid trend last so long?

Anyway, we spent the evening in front of the fire re-reading letters written to each other 18 years ago.

Filth mainly. And money problems.

Meanwhile, back to 2009, and my only prediction is not really a prediction but an observation: it's going to get a lot worse before it can get better. And that may be for the good.

HNY.