Pieces of a Man Think it. Do it. Be it. Embellish.

67.68.69.70.71.72.73.74.75.76 77.78.79.80.81.82.83.84.85.86 87.88.89.90.91.92.93.94.95.96 97.98.99.00.01.02.03.04.05.06 07.08.09.10

Debates over the best film of all time tend to go no further than Hollywood classics such as Citizen Kane. But the influential Halliwell's Film Guide now says the title belongs to Tokyo Story, a little-known Japanese film in which nothing much happens.

Labels: 2005

Apparently the ref extended the 1970 Brazil-England game in the World Cup: "When I blew for time the players didn't hear the whistle and as it was such a great game I let it continue for a few minutes."

Labels: 2005

Ongoing experiences of a guy from UC Davis like my old pal John Byrd, experiencing the bizarre delights of Japan, including 12 year-olds regularly trying to grab his dick;

"You know what's kind of funny though? Some kids can't say "Good morning", but damn near all of them can ask if I have a big dick. Or, "bigu dikku" in Engrish."

Labels: 2005

Proof that trailers mean nothing;

"Trailers are full of deception because what they want you to do is to see the movie they want you to see, not the movie that it is. The only way to see the movie that it is is to go see the movie."

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Will Hutton responds to the French referendum on the European constitution;

The French Revolution changed Europe for ever; the bankruptcy of France's political system in the 1930s and consequent French weakness created the opening for Hitler's armies. Then it was the creation of the Fifth Republic in 1958 under De Gaulle that allowed successive French Presidents to pursue European integration with such vigour. Without the concentration of power in the President, on which De Gaulle insisted, along with the evisceration of its national assembly, France could not have driven European integration as hard as it did. Where France goes from here will have an impact on all of us.

Labels: 2005

Spent the weekend camping on the Llyn peninsula in North Wales for Jo and her folks to see King Pleasure and the Biscuit Boys at the Abersoch Jazz Festival. I remember a couple of years back there was a big advertising campaign for Wales with the tagline 2 hours and a million miles away. It used airbrushed images like Mum and Dad walking hand-in-hand at sunset while the kids romped in the surf, alongside captions like 2 hours ago they were at each others' throats.

Well, with the last few visits to Wales having been to Rhyl and Prestatyn - on the Tattoo Riviera - I'd assumed that this other Wales was figment of a marketing man's imagination. But it exists. And it's the promised two hours away. And Abersoch is its name.

There was a harbour that disappeared at low tide in the evening leaving lots of sand and stranded boats to roam around. It was a bit surprising, with so many people in town for the festival, that hardly anyone was down there so we didn't worry too much about going off to watch the bands and instead spent both evenings on the beach in the sun while the kids paddled in the sea. I really like this picture of tracks on the beach from the tractors that pull the boats in.

There was even a bit of wind on the Sunday and Oscar flew his new helicopter kite for the first time. Definitely a place to go back to and only a couple of hours away with a fair wind.

Labels: 2005

I was a paranoid wreck in the run up to Oti's big day - invitations went out just before we went to Devon for the week so we couldn't get the RSVPs and I spent the whole time plagued by visions of no-one turning up.

Fortunately, this social-fear-by-proxy was unfounded - most of his class turned up and he had a great time. He was crowned king of the party and got to sit on a throne at the head of the table in his ermine robes as all his little pals stuffed themselves with junk food and bounced off the walls.

The staff at the venue were kind enough to totally fix the game of musical statues so he won. It was a travesty really - he didn't cotton on to the whole standing still thing until about the 5th round but even at the age of four or five the other kids showed commendable political awareness and all took their inevitable elimination on the chin.

Labels: 2005

Went to a free festival in Rusholme today with Mum and the kids. It was raining on and off, but that's not enough to dampen Manchester spirits, especially with lots of off-beat activities and installations scattered round Platt Fields such as water-squirting wheelie bins ambushing passers-by.

The kids got their faces painted. Oti enjoyed the creation of his spiderman face but burst into tears when he saw the end result in the mirror at the end and smudged it all off straight away.

Most memorable was the girls dressed as restaurant tables so that their heads poked through the top and were crammed into small birdcages. They danced through the crowds stopping every few minutes to scream and wail until people fed them with grapes through the bars. Weird but great.

Labels: 2005

A great time was had camping near Ilfracombe over the last few days. Just like last time we risked a holiday in Britain, we lucked out with the weather and got four hot days on the trot. Best of all, though, the perfect campsite at this moment in time; play area in front of the tent, heated pool behind, showers to the left and bar to the right. We barely left the site the whole five days.

The kids had a whale of a time on the swings and climbing frame, and when they got bored of that, we all went swimming. The week followed a rhythmic ... play, swim, barbecue, beer ... play, swim, barbecue, beer ... I even got to read a book - admittedly a bit of lightweight holiday fodder - but a radical holiday achievement nonetheless.

Yes, we'll definitely be going back to probably the best campsite in the world as soon as the sun looks like it's going to give us a long weekend. The only drawback with having so much fun was that I completely forgot to take any piccies. Oh well.

Labels: 2005

Last night was a bloody farce. I think it's time to live in Sheffield, work in Manchester or stop drinking;

1700 Go for quick drink after work.
1000 Stagger out of pub.
1015 Catch train. Promptly fall asleep.
2300 Miss Stockport station
2310 Wake up at Manchester Piccadilly.
2314 Jump on Sheffield train back to Stockport.
2320 Train bypasses Stockport.
0020 Back in Sheffield. 2 hours until next train. Go for chips.
0215 Return to station. Entrance locked. Miss train.
0430 Wake up freezing on a bench.
0530 Get train, fall asleep, miss Stockport again.
0715 Finally get home (via Manchester again).

Labels: 2005

Fulham 6 Norwich 0: Witnesses state that the dream was machine-gunned at close range then doused in petrol and set alight before being thrown under the wheels of a passing train.

Labels: 2005

Took the kids for another day out in North Wales today so Jo could get on with her DIY in peace and we could get on with grabbing some sun.

It was great. We had a picnic on the beach, then went for a few rides on the funfair - Oscar especially liked riding the motorbikes with Yani right behind him in a truck, honking her horn the whole way round.

Yani got to have a ride on a donkey, which she really loved, nearly as much as she loved chasing Oscar round the beach covering him in wet, cold sand. He didn't seem to mind either. My favourite picture is Oscar on the sand getting
to grips with buttons. He's been practicing a lot lately.

Labels: 2005

"At the end of a long and turbulent season, Iwan Roberts reveals the real life of a footballer at the sharp end: goals and injuries, house moves and long car journeys"

Labels: 2005

Nick's in the Cup Final this weekend with the Capital Canaries;

Though this generation is a little bit quicker and a whole lot younger than their creaky forebears, for five senior survivors - Manager Andrew Higgins, Nick Seecharan, Ken Wylie, Matt Semple and David Lemmon - May 14th will go someway toward rewarding a decade of cross-London travel to play on the blasted heathlands and drowned Paschendales of corporation pitches.

Labels: 2005

Jakob Nielsen again describes something that seems obvious when you think about it in his latest Alertbox;

Search is such a prominent part of the Web user experience that users have developed a firm mental model for how it's supposed to work. Users expect search to have three components: a box where they can type words, a button labeled 'search' that they click to run the search and list of top results that's linear, prioritized, and appears on a new page.

There are plenty of information skills workshops delivered in HE entitled There's more to life than Google, but for most people that just isn't true, and this is just another bit of evidence that suggests perhaps energies would be better focussed on living with it rather than trying to shout at the rain.

Labels: 2005

Norwich 1 Birmingham 0
Palace 2 Soton 2

• (16:55) Unbelievable! Equaliser at Selhurst. I've definitely shit myself!!
  
• (16:54) Yeeeeeeeeeessssss!!!!!!!!!! Full time. 1-0.
  
• (16:51) Injury time. Birmingham hit the bar twice in a minute. I think I just shit myself.
  
• (16:40) Palace ahead. Fuck it. They just don't know when to quit.
  
• (16:22) Still winning and level at Palace. Christ, this the longest 45 minutes of my life.
  
• (15:48) YES!!!!!!! 1-0, Ashton penalty and I've found coverage on the web. Time for a wee celebratory smoke and drink at half time.
  
• (15:39) Bollocks! Palace 1 Southampton 0. No, wait... Southampton penalty! Come on... YES! I always liked that Peter Crouch.
  
• (15:35) Woo hoo! Birmingham down to ten men. We're not gonna get a better chance than this.
  
• (15:17) "Norwich nervous, Birmingham impressive." What are we waiting for?

Labels: 2005

Well, here we are again. D-Day. Last chance saloon. I have to say I've been unable to shift a sense of resignation since last week's reversal at Southampton, but who cares? There are five hours till kick off and I imagine reality will leave the building sometime about 2pm with my foot in its arse, and matchday hysteria will arrive shortly thereafter on a flying chariot drawn by a thousand thoroughbred Canaries.

Labels: 2005

I doubt I'll ever get to see Pink Floyd, but seeing this lot at the MEN Arena tonight seems like a damn fine substitute.

Several generations of stoners packed the place out. It was like a father-son day out in places and was all very chilled, certainly more than my last visit, anyway, which involved The Tweenies and hundreds of kids high on sweeties.

Money was the first track that really got the crowd going, then Us and Them continued to tap Dark Side of the Moon (an eminently wise plan). I can't have been the only person in the place wondering whether they'd even dare tackle the female vocal on The Great Gig in the Sky, and I can't have been the only person who had tears in their eyes when one of their backing singers sang it to near-perfection. They say the original was done in a day for £30 by a session singer (£15/day piece rate, but double time as it was Sunday). Well, that was the price of the ticket last night and that solo alone was worth the money. It was just awesome.

An extended bass intro for One of those Days allowed time for the inflation of Skippy, the band's giant pink kangaroo mascot, who started to bounce along with the rest of us when the track kicked in. The set closed with Another Brick in the Wall - chorus provided by the Whalley Range School choir in lovely purple blazers - then Comfortably Numb along with a spectacular light show that absolutely pulled out all the remaining stops.

At times this bunch produce perfectly faithful Pink Floyd. If I had a gripe it's just that it's a bit disorientating to hear some of the tracks plucked out of the context of the whole album, but it's a small price to pay to listen live to some of the most enduring and inspiring sound ever committed to vinyl;

Set 1: In the Flesh | Keep Talking | Money | Us and Them | Sorrow | Sheep

Set 2: Shine On You Crazy Diamond | Welcome to the Machine | Learning to Fly | Time | The Great Gig In the Sky | One of These Days | Happiest Days of Our Lives | Another Brick in the Wall | Comfortably Numb | Run Like Hell (Encore)

Labels: 2005

Finished reading this over the May Day weekend in Middlesborough. Not entirely sure how it won the Booker Prize, but it was a cracking read.

The story takes a while to get going. Life in Pondicherry Zoo doesn't seem that relevant, but it's beautiful and it plants ideas about the relationship between animals and man that later anchor the unbelievable story.

The tale of Pi (Piscine Molitor) Patel and a tiger, Richard Parker, stranded in a lifeboat, is imaginative and funny. Appeasing the moody, seasick beast against all the odds is a driving source of intrigue that turns the pages. Obviously it requires a healthy suspension of disbelief, but it's worth it.

However, Yann Martel pushes his luck towards the end. The cannibal island segment crosses a line between creative and ridiculous. Worse still, the twist at the end. For me, it serves little purpose, and those who suggest it cleverly invites re-evaluating the story overlook the large parts of the story that don't then make any sense at all. It's seems like an afterthought, perhaps an editor's contribution, and I think it cheapens a great book.

Reflecting on these flaws, the word 'overrated' occurs, but gives the wrong impression. I'm just a bit surprised it got the biggest thumbs-up from the Booker Prize judges. Ten for artistic impression and five for technical merit would be more appropriate.

Labels: 2005

If there's any justice in Middle Earth then the hobbits should have spared at least one Oscar for Lost in Translation, which was nominated for Best Picture, Best Actor, and Best Director.

It's disrespectful to call Sofia Coppola's surprise hit a romantic comedy; it's sophisticated, moving and thoughtful in a way that's far beyond the usual Hollywood dross. It would be inaccurate too, since the romance is uncertain and the comedy somewhat secondary.

Bill Murray plays Bob Harris, an ageing Hollywood actor filming a lucrative whisky commercial in Japan (as many stars have secretly done before - check out japander.com for a laugh). As we see Bob tiredly discussing carpet and wallpaper with his wife back in the States, we realise he is also stuck in a marriage that's lost its spark.

Jetlagged and drowning his sorrows in the hotel bar, Bob falls into conversation with sensitive young philosophy graduate Charlotte (Scarlet Johansson). Neglected by her photographer husband, she passes the time listening to self-help CDs in her room and wondering what she wants out of life.

Both are at personal crossroads and feeling lost in different ways, but over several days together affection develops as they help each other pass the time.

Japan provides the perfect backdrop for the story. Not only is it culturally both familiar and baffling in a way that mirrors the characters' inner confusions, but their excursions into the frantic, neon nightscape of Tokyo are a rich source of humour, too.

We see Bob undergoing the humiliation of a Banzai-style game show, grappling with the intricacies of Japanese cuisine ("What kind of restaurant is it that makes you cook your own food?") and bewildered by a prostitute with poor pronunciation ("Lip my stockings, Mr Bob-san, lip them!").

The filming of the whisky ad is perhaps the funniest scene. The crazed director harasses Bob at length in Japanese, intent that he evoke Roger Moore's 007 and sip his whisky with ever more ridiculous intensity. Bob just wishes it were real whisky; Bill Murray's trademark weariness has never been more effective. (Coppola reputedly stalked him for a year to make the film and wouldn't have done it had he declined.)

I won't reveal what happens between Charlotte and Bob, but US critic Roger Ebert points out: "Lost in Translation is too smart and thoughtful to be the kind of movie where they go to bed and we're supposed to accept that as the answer".

This film doesn't try to provide answers. After all, life has no easy answers to these kinds of feelings either, and this is perhaps why so many people seem to identify with this film.

At some time or another everyone feels like Bob and Charlotte -- wondering who they are and what it all means -- but what Lost in Translation makes you celebrate are the unexpected connections with people along the way that change you and help you get a little bit closer to working it all out.

Labels: 2005

Spent the day on the beach with Alison and Colin. It was grey and cold and rainy, but it got out later and we managed to pack in the whole British seaside seaside experience while the sun was out; fish'n'chips, ice cream and hunting down crabs. Highlight of the day for Oscar was finding a picture of Robin Hood on the side of the ice cream van. It doesn't take much to make him happy.

Labels: 2005

Oh crap!!

Labels: 2005

This morning I've got butterflies in the stomach, just like matchdays where you were a kid and Dad was taking you to Carrow Road in the afternoon. First there's the killing of time until Football Focus. Then there's that twilight zone from one to kick off, the longest two hours of the week. Plans for the evening don't even exist because 4.45 might be the end of the world. And here's why;

Outwardly the denizens of Southampton and Norwich have good reason to be contented, living in burgeoning cities where jobs are relatively plentiful. Get close to the football grounds of the two cities, however, and a dark cloud hangs heavy; both Southampton and Norwich are battling against relegation from the Premiership, and this weekend is white-knuckle time.

Labels: 2005

Voted in the election today. Tony Blair's warning that a vote for the LibDems could let in Michael Howard was the catalyst - I voted LibDem.

Needless to say, this wasn't with the intention of helping the Tories. A quick check on TacticalVoter.net shows that it's solid Labour round here, so why bother giving tacit approval to a warmonger and liar. Last time round I voted Labour because the candidate was Gerald Kaufman, but there's no similarly compelling reason in Stockport.

Labels: 2005

Feeling crap this weekend, but at least sickness is an excuse to laze about and read. Starting a Nick Hornby book also reminded me to make a list of albums, a plan that has been simmering since 100 Greatest Albums last weekend). So, here are 5 albums that were a paradigm shift in my musical education;

The Smiths - The Smiths
Aswad - Live'n'Direct
Roy Harper - Stormcock
ACDC - Highway to Hell
NWA - Straight Outta Compton

Labels: 2005

I always look forward to the Guardian's Monday match report over Sunday's. With match facts already detailed, some unusual angle is needed and this morning did not disappoint. Evidence of a toke in the Islington sun and unfulfilled politial writing ambitions, I think, in the Charlton match report for this St George's weekend;

"It was Clarke's predecessor as Home Secretary, David Blunkett, who recently urged the English to proclaim their Englishness - a bit rich from a member of the government that has made Britishness a badge of international shame. Norwich needed no encouragement. If Darren Huckerby, their talisman before Ashton, had not been kept on the bench, recovering from a virus, they would have started with nine Englishmen. They even wear the colours of Norfolk's spring countryside, early green and oilseed rape. Truly they represent their people."

Labels: 2005

Excellent result this weekend, but if it goes to the wire we'll most regret giving away two (totally stolen) points at Selhurst Park last week. Assuming we both beat Southampton, our result against Birmingham needs to be better than theirs at Newcastle to give us a chance. Even more than millions of pounds for Premiership survival, it would be great to stuff Mark Bright's words back down his throat after 90 minutes of non-stop commentary whingeing last week.

Labels: 2005

It's a bit concerting to read Oliver James' article - Is your boss a psychopath? - and see some things listed that seem to be perfectly useful workplace skills;

"Case studies by psychologists have claimed that "successful psychopaths" really exist. These are portrayed as emotionally detached, with superficial charm and an unbounded preparedness to use others, differing only from personality-disordered criminal psychopaths in being law-abiding and less impulsive."

Labels: 2005

Saw this at the Cornerhouse last night. It's a character study of a man gradually being consumed by obsession as his life falls apart. Sean Penn provides a typically exceptional performance as Sam Bick, an estranged father and furniture salesman who hates his job and spends his time dreaming desperately of starting up a business with a government loan.

The mention of the assassination is misleading; it happens in a haphazard way near the end of the film, and up to that point Richard Nixon is a metaphorical device, representing the broken promises, distrust and lies in Sam's paranoid mind, only eventually becoming a focus for his action.

The plot is really the gradual dismantling of Sam's life. His wife is involved with another man, his kids are distant, he fails at his job and his loan is turned down. All this time, Sam is gradually coming apart; Sean Penn plays the first part of the film like a man who's physically struggling to hold it together, visibly taut with the effort. A pivotal point in the film, which Sean Penn delivers with incredible intensity, is a late night phone call answered by his wife's lover, which ends with Sam begging for contact as she hangs up. From this point onwards, Sam spirals out of control towards a pathetic and typically inept end.

It's harrowing but engrossing viewing. If you've seen Falling Down and remember the man outside the bank telling the world that he's not economically viable, this film could be the story of that man. (N.B. The film is inspired by real events; read about the real Sam Bick).

Labels: 2005

Oscar models the early birthday present that he's been given for being a good boy at school.

Labels: 2005

Jo attended an update meeting with the teachers and behavioural support people at Oscar's school today and apparently the last 6 weeks since the last meeting have seen amazing progress.

Last time we met and he was still not really paying much attention to other kids in class, although happier spending time in 1-1 with the teachers. Now the psychologist, who did an observation last week, reports that he initiated contact with other kids SEVENTEEN times in the hour she was watching.

And, perhaps not coincidentally, he brought home his first party invitation last week. I'm feeling very proud.

Labels: 2005

Pat Phoenix, Stuart Hall, Bez from Happy Mondays, Myra Hindley, Sir Bobby Charlton, Richard Madeley and Judy Finnigan, Bernard Manning, Alan Turing, LS Lowry, Sir Charles Hallé... your boys took a HELLUVA beating!!

Labels: 2005

First activity of the day risked a tangle with the university's email police; "They were FUCKING BRILLIANT!", the message said.

As Doves had taken the stage the night before and greeted the packed hometown crowd with "All right, Ardwick?" we knew it was going to be an evening of pure Manc.

The opener was Pounding from The Last Broadcast. Before last night it was the under-noticed 9th track on the album - a sad reflection of how rarely my concentration is allowed focus for more than about 15 minutes these days - but weeks of anticipation was released as the chorus erupted, "Seize the time, cause it's now or never baby". The hook was in my head for days and the moment in my memory forever.

Black and White Town bounced along to a backdrop of Northern scenes; Rusholme kebab shops, scruffy Salford ginnels and Victorian brick. The visuals were employed sparingly but to great effect, and I especially like the Manhattan skyline for the explosive NY, a few minutes of intensity that worried the acoustic strings of Jimi Goodwin on rhythm guitar. Christ, that's a track you can never hear loud enough.

Here it Comes brought Jez Williams out from behind his drums to provide lead vocals and the track was accompanied by mesmerising dance footage that could've passed for Brooklyn breakdance if you didn't notice the frontage of Wigan Casino and the white boys with bad hair.

The set seemed to last long into the night, a relentless parade of thoughtful and crafted songs from their three brilliant albums, Lost Souls, The Last Broadcast and the new Some Cities;

Pounding
Words
Black and White Town
Almost Forgot Myself
Where We're Calling From
New York
Sea Song
Sky Starts Falling
Caught by the River
Ambition
Last Broadcast
Snowden
One of These Days
Cedar Room
Here It Comes (Encore)
Satellite (Encore)
There Goes the Fear (Encore)
Unknown (Encore)

There Goes the Fear, absolute show stopper though it is with it's overpowering themes of regret and its carnival crescendo, wasn't actually the end. The band did one last rocking instrumental jam to something I didn't recognise, but can guess was something from their Sub Sub days in the local dance scene.

It was probably a one-off for the locals, and as we streamed out onto Marple Road, I felt the spirit of New Order was also surely among us.

Labels: 2005

The interview with Richard Pryor in today's Independent describes when he decided to stop emulating Bill Cosby and become his own man;

"The fog rolled in," Pryor says. "I finally asked the sold-out crowd: 'What the fuck am I doing here?' Then I walked off stage. I shed my phoney image and started building my self- respect. I read a copy of Malcolm X's collected speeches and listened to Marvin Gaye's 'What's Going On'? And I searched for the truth."

Adrian Gilpin described his own Damascene conversion in the celebrity lecture he delivered at the university last night. After 10 years showing managers how to learn from great leaders, he reached his own turning point when he realised that greatness only comes from following your own path. The rest of the evening was designed to help us locate that path.

I didn't generally find myself convinced, though. He brought together a number of ideas in an entertaining way, but in terms of a practical and cohesive whole, it amounted to less than the sum of the parts. The one bit of advice I acted on this morning was to only do the things you believe in - my 'list of things to do' got culled with this in mind. (It was a great way to start the day, though.)

Seriously, though, his most interesting point was about inspiring others with a vision of how things could be, illustrated with the clip from Gladiator in which Russell Crowe readies his troops for battle in Germania through the visualisation of success; "Three weeks from now, I will be harvesting my crops. Imagine where you will be, and it will be so."

I'm not sure that "Next year you'll be changing people's lives with your database design tips" quite has the same ring, but it's definitely food for thought.

Labels: 2005

It was a camping trip of two halves. We got all the way to the campsite in the Long Mynd when the car gave up the ghost by the local post office. Given the Countryside Alliance posters on view they probably thought the gypsies had moved in as we sat there stranded in the car park, kids in the back seat tearing a frozen banoffee pie to pieces like hyenas.

We left the breakdown recovery till the following day and got one of the locals to tow us to the campsite behind a tractor. (Oscar most impressed.) Unable to go for provisions, though, dinner was steak fried in butter on the bleuet and served with bread and ketchup, followed by a dessert of rice crispies. Real survivalist stuff!

Saturday was a vast improvement. The sun was shining the next morning and we had a great time playing pirates and princesses by the river in our fantastic wooden adventure boat before heading off to The Crown for a fat lunch of roast beast and chips.
If only all breakdowns could leave you stranded near a pub…

Labels: 2005

Gave the kids one choccie egg each before the sugar police woke up. You've got to push the boat out occasionally. Yan scoffed her whole egg and the little packet of mini ones immediately and was complaining of a tummy ache equally quickly. Oti showed remarkable restraint and was still finishing off the buttons a good hour later. I thought they must have gone off or something.

Labels: 2005

Looking for Gil again tonight - out of jail in Summer 2004 is as close as I've come so far - and I found a poem:

Chance-taker Emotion voyager Street-strutter Contemporary Spirit Untamed Proud Poet Rough Healer He Is His - Gwendolyn Brooks

Labels: 2005

A day out in Formby with Mum and the kids while the sun peeked out for a moment. Lunch was a picnic in the deserted pines woods, freshly chopped logs for seating and climbing frame for Oscar once the chicken and chocolate eclairs were stuffed into his cheeks like a gerbil.



The biting wind from the Irish Sea was absent this time and the kids played on the sand while not harassing the poor creatures that were above the high water mark. Oscar's quote of the day; "It's a starfish. Let's kill it!"

Labels: 2005

I can't fathom this exercise lark. The other week I drank nothing, ate well and the weight stayed the same. This week on three consecutive days I had chinese takeaway on day one, five pints then a kebab followed immediately by chicken wings and chips on day two, and a huge roast dinner with cheesecake on day three. Result? I've lost 2 pounds. I hope to write a new lifestyle book in time for the Xmas market.

Labels: 2005

From the top 100 greatest speeches of all time (and you can listen to all of the following);

(1) Martin Luther King, Jr. | I Have A Dream
(2) John Fitzgerald Kennedy | Inaugural Address
(4) Franklin Delano Roosevelt | Pearl Harbor Address
(7) Malcolm X | The Ballot or the Bullet

Labels: 2005

Seeing Athlete at Manchester Academy last night was pretty much as I'd expected - well executed songs delivered straight down the line, like listening to your favourite CD at high volume with lots of other people who also love it. It's probably a sensible strategy when most of the sell-out crowd is there to celebrate your Mercury-nominated classic album.

They did all the stand-out tracks from Vehicles and Animals, and they all went down a storm. The newer material is less powerful, but two or three of the tracks from Tourist stand up well in live rendition, especially the single Wires, which develops in interesting ways that I hadn't realised from just listening to the first part of it in a HMV listening booth!

The gig was interesting in a more lasting way from a sociological point of view. I read somewhere about Athlete, or at least the lead singer, being quite Christian, and there was certainly something akin to a religious fervour going on within the crowd. Most of the big songs were accompanied by a thousand person backing group that were waving, swaying, hugging each other and investing every lyric with the passion that only comes from some personal identification that I must have missed. Nonetheless, It was a bit unnerving to look outside myself at points and see a middle-aged man with his coat on, singing along with songs, only a lighter short of being a lighter-waving pratt of the kind I've always mocked.

The singer even asked the crowd to quieten down a bit at one point because he couldn't hear himself - what a pussy. Athlete write great songs but they are not rock'n'roll in the slightest. In fact, they're about the politest and humble band I've ever seen, even apologetic in places. Nice boys who probably won't be gigging tonight because it's Mother's Day.

I hope everyone enjoyed it. I wasn't sure. Enjoying Athlete is all about knowing the songs, and if you don't, I can see that it might be a slightly disconnected experience. But if it provokes another couple of bites of Vehicles and Animals until it 'clicks', then it will have been worth it.

Ironically, on a night spent with a (possibly) Christian rock band, I came off the Lenten wagon big time and sang-along all night lubricated by five pints of Red Stripe. Sorry, Lord, but you only live once.

Labels: 2005

The tale of two seasons - Palace hold Man United to a goaless draw with ten men. Norwich just defend corners like we've got ten men. How can a defence fall to pieces in the space of just one season, and how can Worthington so singularly fail to get them to concentrate at set pieces? It's difficult to begrudge Mourinho, though, when you read articles like this.

Labels: 2005

It's official. We're fucked. This was the low point of the season, euphoria to devastation in under an hour, even worse than the day in Blackburn, and Delia has probably written herself into comedy shows for years to come with her half time antics, snarling away for the cameras.

I think if I'd been at the game I'd have felt a bit miffed like many others did - you're entitled to sulk for a few minutes up to half time and then catch you're breath when you've taken hits like that. But I still think that she can do what the hell she wants when you think of the time, money and commitment she's sunk into the club. She did look a bit scary, though.

Labels: 2005

We went for a day in the Peaks today, going to Buxton and Bakewell. The park in Buxton has an ideal design for handling Oscar - a long enough stretch to roam about, but a river alongside separating it from the road. Ideal, and despite gloveless, freezing hands, we managed to make our snowman, complete with everything but a carrot.

Later on we went down to Bakewell to see what the tarts and the house prices are like. The numbers seemed reassuringly reasonable, but the tarts were a bit of a dissapointment. I'd heard they were something special and different to the exported variety there, but the reality was rather dry and lacking in substance. We still ate five of them, though.

Labels: 2005

Bought the new Doves album at lunchtime today. "Doves return with a follow-up to The Last Broadcast that, unexpectedly, is something of a concept album. Some Cities builds on that titular theme throughout the course of its wintry--and, at times, monolithic--citysongs." (Amazon Review)

First impressions mostly positive. There's not an obvious big track on there like There goes the Fear on the last album, but the first single Black Town, White Town got stuck in my head after a couple of listens to its catchy Northern Soul piano hook. I've read a bit about the track Walk in Fire on the web, but don't quite see it. Still, it took a while to get my head round the quality of their previous album, so let's wait and see. The tickets for the gig arrived this week, too. I'm so looking forward to that one. Big venue, hometown crowd. Should be massive.

Labels: 2005

Malcolm X was shot dead at a Harlem rally 40 years ago today, as reported in The Guardian on this day in 1965.

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Last words of air crews in crashes detailed in air traffic control transcripts and MP3 cockpit voice recordings. A few would be comical if only they weren't tragically real; Oh Shit!! and Mountains!!!.

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The skies looked bright inland so we decided to head out to North Wales and revisit the scene of a lovely day on the beach last year. What a different place in winter. Everything shut. Freezing cold. Biting wind. Tide in. Still, we didn't have to stay long, preferring to cut the losses on the beach after Oscar threw a beach pebble and caught Yani on the back of the head. Happy Valentine's.

Labels: 2005

Went to see The Magic Roundabout today. The instincts from the reviews I glanced at last week were more or less right - it's a load of nonsense.

The main problem of the film is the lack of initial scene setting. The basic plot is that the Zebedee alter-ego escapes imprisonment of many years and unleashes all kinds of naughtiness on the world. Gang have save the day. It's a familiar device, but while the grown-ups might understand all the 70's characters, they're just as baffled as the kids as to why Zeebad has this grudge.

It's shakey ground for what follows, which is a series of disjointed chase and action scenes interspersed with some weird song set-pieces which serve only to crowbar in tunes for the 30-somethings ('Mr Blue Sky' by ELO was the highlight).

This film tries, as do most kids films these days, to please about three different target audiences on the instruction of the marketing executives, but the mess they end up with doesn't pull it off. The kids miss most of the trippiness and hippy characterisation of the original, but didn't seem to have anything else to replace it with but strange events happening to unexplained characters.

Oscar spent the last 15 minutes of the film shouting 'I want to go home'. I was thinking the same.

Labels: 2005

Next time I'm undecided about going to a football match, I need to look back on today, which was a series of annoyances and misfortunes the like of which couldn't even be scripted.

In the morning a trip to the sweetie shop and the park with the kids set the tone for the day. Oti had a tantrum in the shop which resulted in having to drag him out, nearly toppling the display of Cadbury's Creme Eggs, and the playground in the park was padlocked shut, allowing only a 10 minute stay, long enough for the kids to get covered in mud.

Cleaning off the mud meant a late dash to the train station to meet up with everyone else. Unfortunately, I'd misread the web information and now the train was leaving from Manchester Victoria rather than Piccadilly, meaning I'd miss it and have to travel up the game alone an hour later than everyone else.

I finally neared Blackburn with 20 minutes still to kick-off and left the train early on the advise of the conductor to catch a taxi from a stop just outside town. Turns out the cab company probably only had a couple of cabs and there was a queue. Plan B? Fortunately not the 45 minute walk that the guy at the cab stand first mentioned, but instead a sprint across town to catch a bus just as it headed off to near the ground.

Finally arrived gasping about 10 minutes after kick-off and for my troubles was treated to one of our worst performances of the season. We blew three gilt-edged chances before gifting them 3 soft goals and going down 3-0. The salt in the wound was having to sit in the crappiest seats in Ewood Park.

Needless to say, we missed the train home by a couple of minutes and were stuck in Blackburn for an hour longer than anyone should have to be there in one lifetime. We worked out a joint spend of about £150 on this disaster of a leisure opportunity. At least there wasn't a 7-hour trip back to Norfolk.

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Today is the start of Lent, and since I could still feel last night's single can of Red Stripe this morning it seems as good a time as any to quit booze for 40 days and nights.

Oh Lord, what have I done?

Labels: 2005

It's Bob Marley's 60th birthday, and crazy old Rita wants him exhumed and buried in someone else's country, despite the apathy his religion has always received in that part of the world;

"For a long time, Ethiopians had little idea of what to make of him or Rastafarians. When Haile Selassie made a brief visit to Jamaica in 1966 he was so surprised by the 100,000 Rastas at the airport that it took half an hour to coax him out of the plane. " More...

Gary Younge also has related piece in the Guardian this week on the tensions between race, identity and belonging.

Labels: 2005

Took at trip out to Hope Valley to have a walk and watch the kids throwing sticks into a stream. Also had a sideways glance into some of the estate agents' windows thereabouts. Bit out of range to get a comparable propertly in that neck of the woods for a couple of years, but it's a nice area. Local dress is hiking boots rather than shell suits.

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Da Mayor: Doctor...
Mookie: C'mon, what. What?
Da Mayor: Always do the right thing.

Ossie Davis died today. I knew he was a great actor from all the Spike Lee joints, but it was only from reading up for the trip to New York last year that he was a lot more besides - writer, director, civil rights activist and friend of Malcolm X; a true (Harlem) rennaissance man.

I'll remember him best for two roles - Da Mayor in Do the Right Thing, opposite his wife Ruby Dee as Mother Sister, and in Get on the Bus as Jeremiah , the old man taking one last trip on the Million Man March before he dies.

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One month of new exercise regime clocked up today. Have managed to stick to plan to use the treadmill once a day, and it's actually become a fixed part of the routine. Have lost about 6 pounds, which is nice, but the best outcome is the new and tasty pleasure of guilt-free Chinese food at the weekend. Definitely a motivational regime from the Homer Simpson school of thought.

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Went down to the Learning Technologies 2005 exhibition at Olympia today. Most of the stuff was of a muchness, but the chief pleasure of the day was again free (or at least very subsided) dinner at All Bar One courtesy of Anna this time, as opposed to Nick in 2004. Freebies all round.

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We took a trip to Derwent Water today. We had a picnic under siege from the local ducks then went for a walk up by the dam. Kids found a little house made of sticks on the way back and had a great time playing in it.

Labels: 2005

We were shocking today. I can't believe the same team that got thrashed by Sheffield United last week could dispatch us in the 3rd gear. I'm not even going to take the trouble to post any of the pictures. I have one of Tom clapping, but god knows what for.

Labels: 2005