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Mascot "Berserk" In Playground

As if school isn't bad enough without being hunted down by some sort of penis-allegory mascarading as an olympic mascot.

But not a word about it from Boris Johnson!

Someone should do something about it.

The Minotaur @ Lazarides

Great exhibition space , as long as you like your art in the dank & dark.

Pretentious? Moi?

Want to waste an hour? Why not visit the V&A's Postmodernism; Style & Subversion 1970-1990 ?

Shyte and Derivation more like it.

Did you know that the fashion mag The Face was part of the postmodern "movement"? I doubt if the editor did either.

The whole thing is a teleological conceit where the curator has taken the attitude that "it's postmodernism if I say it is".

Basically, they have cobbled together a pile of unrelated (usually trendy) crap and dressed it up as having some greater "postmodern" significance.

Yes, I do understand that that is a "postmodern" concept in it's self, but it still proves that it's just pretentious twaddle.

Tssk!

I Am The Walrus

OMG!

And to think that I nearly forgot that next week is BRITISH EGG WEEK!

Pub Latest: Vessel Surfeit

A couple of years ago, I stopped frequenting my local The Gate, a fine example of a grand Victorian pub which combined a superb pizza oven with notoriously poor service.

The decision to quit was made on the evening I ventured in with a regular drinking partner, ordered two pints and chose from the menu. When the chump behind the bar thumped our drinks spillingly onto the bar, we informed him that we would also order food.

"Sorry" he mumbled "No Pizza; we've run out of cheese!"

It was 8pm. They had "run out of cheese". There was a convenience store next door. The nearest supermarket was 5 minutes walk away, yet they were unwilling to trade in Pizzas because they had managed to run out of cheese. British pubs are closing in their hundreds every year, and this one had run out of cheese!

Imagine his confusion as we then declined to pay for the pints and opted to go to The Victoria Stakes, which was further but could guarantee decent service AND food.

I mention this because this evening at 7pm, the same drinking partner and I approached the bar of The Rocket on the Euston Road in time to hear the hapless youth serving tell a female customer that they had "run out of wine glasses". She agreed to have her drink sold in a half pint glass. Yes, they had "run out of wine glasses". British pubs are closing in their hundreds every year, and this one had run out of wine glasses.

Thus is the state of the British service industry.

Skip The Warm Towels: Call An Ambulance

I find it interesting that the British obsession with alcohol poisoning as a rite is considered insufficient as a means to convey native robustness, that we have to have Curry Competitions to separate the men from the panty-waists.

Apparently, a restaurant in Edinburgh has hospitalised contestants in a apparent bid to "raise charity".

One wonders if the totals raised exceeded the cost to the tax payer for the abuse of our cash-strapped free-on-demand health service.

One attention-seeking contestant admitted;

"I've always enjoyed spicy foods and thought this was for a good cause. But it came with a price, I had to be taken to the ERI twice.

"I first went to hospital at around 4pm and the second time was at 9pm. It got really bad. I have never endured such pain in my life."

Mr Ali (the perpetrator) said he felt the competition had gone well, but that he had overestimated how much heat the competitors could take.

As the Media Blog so succinctly observes:

Ah yes, the old "vomiting, collapsing, sweating and panting" publicity stunt - a winner for any restaurant.

Pub; Holborn

Yukata Sone

Really cool Manhattan in stone from China.

Grotesque Bournemouth

Must be something in that sea air, but Bournemouth's changed since I last rented a deckchair.

Warning: video contains local authority personnel in hi-viz, just in case.

Weather Update

As London enjoys its brief Indian Summer, with a much appreciated heat wave, there are those amongst us who are somewhat behind the curve.

A lobster coloured colleague approaches me, puffing:

Him: "Blimey, are you hot?"

Me: "Yes, it's a nice change!"Him: "I'm REALLY hot!"

Me: "Why don't you take that jumper off then?"

Him: "Yeh," (pause to think) "I suppose I should really!"

Equivalent VII: The Wickes Years

I did a double take at the builder's depot.

Didn't the Tate spend a lot of money on that?

Is it now on tour?

And was that Carl Andre demonstrating the Black & Decker WM550 new improved more versatile Workmate?

Come to think about, maybe not.

Spontaneous Combustion Latest

Meanwhile, in Ireland, the Galway coroner has had a busy week.

"Dougal, have you got the results on that fire at the old fellah's house now?"

"Sorry there Ted, but I'm at a loss on this one, and I've too much on to really examine it. Do you mind if we just spin the wheel on this one?"

"OK Dougal, but don't let it become a habit!"

There is a spinning sound, which eventually slows to a clicking halt.

"Blimey, what's the chance of it landing on that? Better tell the press unit to brace themselves!"

World's Most Boring Teenager Unveiled

Hey, remember William Hague? He was that dickhead kid that the Tories shoved on stage in front of Thatcher to convince the public that she didn't eat children.

He went on to become an ineffective politician, hapless party leader and now embarrassing foreign secretary.

Well, to prove that those who cannot learn from history are doomed to repeat it, some idiot at the Labour Party conference has found Rory Weal (or is it Ron Weasly?), who is clearly unable to understand the point of being young.

You know, the halfwit in the playground that approaches the smokers and barracks them with "brothers and sisters, why prevaricate? Is it not incumbent upon us to aggregate our anger in a collective effort to shake off the cloak of false conciousness and storm the fortress that is our repressive yet complacent parliamentary autocracy! Come with me as we rise against the OOF!...Aargh!
Now now; let's have solidarity...Ouch, that hurts! I beseech you, don't you see that that's what they want you to do! OOOF! But I'm your leader, MMMFF!"

Someone give the little turd spliff for fuck's sake. It didn't hamper the career of Cameron or Osborne.

Can't Afford It? Just Do It!

It's curious how we can live in parallel universes.

For example, the business pages are full of how the world stands on the brink of an economic catastrophy, which our greatest economists admit that they're at a loss to tackle.

And then in another column, we read that the populace don't care, as long as they have credit cards, they're going to keep NIKE in record profits buying stuff they don't need.

Living the dream!

Beware!

South Bank: Urban Fox

Your Freedom = Our Oil

As the Libyan revolution/debacle continues to unfold, the Great Powers are lining up to grab the post-war spoils, and are manoeuvring to exploit the needs of whoever fills the vacuum.

Having poured huge resources into the NATO effort so far to ensure that western control is retained in the region, they now expect the quid pro quo from the recipients of this largesse.

However, it appears that the ingrates are a little more savvy than the deadly celebratory shooting in the air would indicate.

As the British government begins to show its hand by being patronising on one hand ("didn't you do WELL!") and demanding on the other ("don't forget who put you here") those pesky Libyans have pulled a fast one.

It's a no-brainer. The intelligence revelations exposing the relationship between Gaddafi, the CIA & MI6 were always going to be toxic, and any owner of that material would know that. Therefore, Washington and London could only hope that the current (and no doubt fleeting) leadership would not bite the hand that has so generously fed them in order to keep the powers sweet.

However, it's a war, and everyone can do perfidy, and the National Transitional Council chosen to play their ace before the dust has settled.

The west may be able to rely on 400 years on colonialism to know what works, but they must realise that by now, SO DO THE COLONIALS.

Last week it was claimed that the suspected killer of WPC Yvonne Fletcher had been found executed, "shot, possibly by former regime apparatchiks hoping to silence him". No doubt the new guys were aware of the expectations of the British government, yet were keen to end any unnecessary wrangling that did not advance the cause of the NTC. Bang Bang: Problem Solved. In the "fog of war" that's easy.

If the British Government had any notion that the Libyans would care a fart for Tory promises to the oil companies, then it is now dashed.

Curiously enough, give the Tories credit. Cameron has immediately taken the opportunity to place blame for the MI6 farce on the Labour party and the previous government! He may not have any ideas, but he's the master of the pointless political smokescreen.

Meanwhile, BP and BIG OIL will have to resort to their usual covert methods to turn the situation around to their advantage. And they will.

The Shame of Miss Jean Brodie

Well, it's A-Level day again, and once more the press will cover the story in two ways. a) get some crusty old tory to bemoan how exams are getting too easy, and b) feature images of shapely young women jumping the the air for joy at their marvellous results.

However, it transpires that the private girls' schools have been pimping out their prettier ladies for the occasion.

Over at the Media Blog they have examples, including Badminton School's invitation to:

"interview, take shots and film as we have lots of girls coming in that day including the three below who would make very good case studies - they speak extremely well and take a good picture..."

Here's hoping for a hot day where clothing will require loosening!