|
Jellied Els Le Roi-to-be, Sir Prince Charles. One day he's in Rome shaking hands with Mugabe and seeing off the Pope, next say he's in Windsor getting married. And his mum's watching the Grand National. I'm not watching it this year. The horses aren't getting any faster. I just heard Hedgehunter won it. There's a few of them up Hampstead Heath of a Saturday night. So... this is my first entry. You can see Dead Life elsewhere, and even elser where there is animated life, but I haven't linked to that yet, and may never do; I am supposed to be writing essays, dammit; procrastination is the mother of invention. I've been watching the golf. I can't watch it with my wife any more, I'm not allowed. She likes golf, but I just make silly jokes the whole time, about people's names, trousers, and the sound-effects of the ball being blasted off the tee. If I were a golfer I would ask for a decaffeinated tee. And a Jack of Clubs. They all seem to dedicate shots to their fathers. "This ones for pa". And Ernard Els should blow his nose, parce que he keeps getting bogeys on the green. I think Tiger Woods should play against Jeremy Irons, and maybe let Minnie Driver hit a couple as well. Hitler played once but he gave up in the bunker. And I think that there should be a version of golf played on snow and ice. The ball would be orange, like the old footballs, and the green would be called the 'white'. It is about this point I am banished from the tv area by my other (and better) half. I complain that there is a golf between us, and go and make tee. mange tout, everyone |
|
|
9.4.05 16:39 |
|
|
Election earring Names are an "interesting" phenomenon. A rose by any other name would still wilt after two days, if you get it from Tesco. A wise old man once said, "names will never hurt me". He never met my poor friend Spike. Dear oh dear, schoolkids can be cruel. Names have me thinking. If you fall over in the kitchen, it should be called a Keith Floydian slip. The as-yet unelected Pope will be called 'George-Ringo', if things go to plan. I'm not sure why Popes change their name, but if Prince can do it? So can Prince Charles. When King, he wants to change his name to Henry. He says Charles isn't a good monrach's name, as Charles I had his head lobbed off and the II was a total galavant. Charles, read the history books, the Henrys weren't all that desirable either. Change your name to Kong. People would love you. That's what I did. Nicknames are another thing. Apparently George W Bush is nicknamed "the needle" by his White House staff. He thinks it is because he is so sharp. He's wrong; it's because he's a little prick. And now there is an Erection coming up, so called because of all the pricks running. And the Mass Debating. When I first heard about General Erections, I thought that it was one of those magic moments when everyone in Britain went hard at the same time (similar to the Christmas Boners phenomenon). Now the American Erection did not go so well for the sane people du monde. Now we are faced with trustworthy Blair's boys against that cretin Howard. Does he think the public have forgotten who he is?? I just hope we get to see another Prescott-punches-man-with-mullet moment. |
|
|
11.4.05 12:40 |
|
|
Alain Sucre est malade Did anybody watch The Apprentice last night? I wouldn't normally sit down and watch a group of business-wannabes act pathetic and then get sour remarks from sweet Mr Sugar; if I did I would have sat closer to the West Stand at the Lane during the 90s. It's all very Middlesex 'University'. But I thought I should see last night's transmission, for the idioids were set a task of going to the Spurs v Man Utd match and trying to sign up fans to a text message service. What followed was absolute tosh (Van Nistelrooy scored a penalty). If they really want to attract the attention of Spurs fans, all they have to do is say "Text I HATE ARSENAL to this number..." and they would see the results. Market research; get to the issues that are important to us.
|
|
|
14.4.05 08:12 |
|
|
Saints Necessarily So I am stuck. In the middle of an essay about the St Ælfheah (also known as Alphege, Alphage, Elfege, etc)incident, from the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle. The bit I am stuck on is about Rome and the translation of saint's bodies, and the idea that a saint's body can legitimise a city in the eyes of the Church (as in with St Mark in Venice). I'm using this idea to justify London's desire to keep Alphege (who was the first London martyr) at St Paul's. But I'm stretching the argument a bit thin, and I keep hitting walls. What's more, I've just had cheesecake from Waitrose which was delicious and now I can't stop thinking about it. I've already finished a paper about another London saint, St Erkenwald, and now this; I'm sick of saints, already! That's not true, I've actually discovered stuff I never knew. There's a LOT of Saints in the world, dudes. I looked on Catholic Forum. Apparently St Paul is the patron saint of tent-makers. St Patrick is not only patron of Ireland, but also Nigeria. And - I knew this one from my Old High German translations - Saint Isidore of Seville is the patron saint of the internet. He would have been proud. |
|
|
17.4.05 00:36 |
|
|
Episode IV: A New Pope What do the Cardinals do in the conclave? At the time of writing, 115 of them are under lock and key (com clavi, as they say in Latin) in the Sistine Chapel choosing which among them will be the next Pontiff. It is a murky Catholic Chamber of Secrets, a world of ritual and magic that probably amounts to little more than lighting some candles, holding a few sleepy masses, and then some old bloke saying, well I can't do it because I think I might be gay. A little earlier on, black smoke bellowed from the temporary chimney indicating 'no we haven't chosen one yet'. Now many want the Catholic Church to enter the modern age, so why don't we put secret cameras in the Sistine Chapel and have a reality-style TV vote? Big Father. "Would Cardinal Ratzenberger please come to the confession room?" For all we know, this may well be how they do it. But I think that is too simplistic. A good Pontiff must have transferable skills, so how about a karaoke contest? A Pope needs to be able to sing. Undoubtedly this would be called Pope Idol. Maybe they decide by penalty shoot-out? After all, John-Paul II won because he used to be a goalkeeper. This may also be why there hasn't been an English Pope since Adrian IV in the 1100s. One thing is certain though: they have, if rumour is to be believed, already chosen the new name for John-Paul's successor. He will be called George-Ringo. |
|
|
18.4.05 23:58 |
|
|
C'est quoi, l'amour? a linguistic perspective. What is love? That's what they are talking about on TV at the the moment (the Wright Stuff). It appears that people aren't really sure. It's an incredible emotion that forces itself into our systemn whether we want it to or not (thankfully most of us wnat it to). But I have to say that the English language really is fairly inadequate for describing this. Of course, not just English; I'm sure that many other society's languages cannot fully describe it, which is why we can't explain it. I think I will look into it. I know that French doesn't distiguish between love (aimer) and really like (aimer), yet they call their language the language of love... how does it work? In English, 'boyfriend' and 'girlfriend' mean different things to simply 'friend'; not so in German, or French (though they supposedly say 'petite amie', which is a phrase i never heard anybody say ever unless they were about seven). I might make it my next linguistic project. Today, this is what I reckon: it's a sunny day, and I think I will buy some flowers for my wife, who I really really love. We met in France, too. Vive l'amour... |
|
|
22.4.05 11:36 |
|
|
Doga - Barking Mad or Canine Consciousness? Tel gave me a book the other day, Doga: yoga for dogs. I know it's American, but I can't work out if it's for real or just a piss-take. Or just a book for people who love dogs (most likely). Created by New Yorker Jennifer Brilliant, it features six dogi who posture themselves into oses such as cobra, triangle and corpse. While doing the corpse pose, or savasana, 'Kessie' advises the reader: "Do not allow outward disturbances ('do I hear the mailman?') or private worries ('are we going to the vet today?') to distract you. Let it all go." The art of Dogic Relaxation. Even jump is Doga. 'Buster', a Golden Retriever, says that "Catching a ball is doga." 'Bennie', a little Jack Russell, is one of the leading experts in Doga. His biog says that he studied under Paws Dogananda, and runs workshops called 'Overcoming Hostility to Squirrels, Skinks and Chipmunks.' He says of the triangle pose: "During walks, I do triangle pose with my back leg lifted. I may do up to 20 repetitions during a walk around the block." This book is hilarious. The dogs are not photoshopped into ridiculous poses, they are just pictured doing what dogs do, but seriously enough for this not to be silly. I know dogs can't talk, and that sniffing other dogs balls is not the path to self-enlightenment - or do I? I know that in some parts of America, there are serious dog-lovers who may sincerely believe that their beloved pooch is not howling but 'chanting the sound of the universe'. It is something I would probably like to make further study of when I get to the States, except... I'm scared of dogs. Really scared. They bark at me and bare their teeth. They chase me. And now I know that they are at one with the cosmos, it can only get worse. |
|
|
25.4.05 13:41 |
|
|
Liar, Liar, Plane's Struck By Lightning Blair's plane was struck by lightning today. I know that he is a religious man, so he may take this as a sign. What it signifies I am not sure, but with the election only a week away and Pope John-Paul II only just getting comfortable upstairs, even the most atheist of us can laugh and connect the dots. I doubt Blair will be rattled. He has the air of a man willing to take on anybody in an election head-to-head, even God (whose own sweeping election victory all those aeons ago consigned Satan forever to the backbenches; since then the minions of the Devil have been interminably divided over the euro, immigration and the Health Service. The only thing they agree on is that a leader should be bald, and have something of the night about him). But, and I say this as a non-believer in Him but a firm believer in Lightning (especially on windy, stormy April days when I have to shelter beneath trees, like today), God is being absolutely clear on one thing - he doesn't like Liars. I mean, how hard can it be to keep an election campaign clean? Howard has today released posters of Tony Blair, calling him outright a LIAR. He is, I think, the first British politician to do so in an election campaign. Howard was asked whether he had ever lied, and he replied that to the best of his knowledge, he had never misled the public. To be fair, he's just saying what everybody has been either saying or insinuating since 1993, but even Charles Kennedy backed away from this warm spud. Yesterday Howard failed to wash his hands between shaking those of patients on a hospital visit, and given his accusations that Blair has let hospitals become filthy, could be forgiven for being embarassed. Last Friday he was ripped to pieces by 'Van Helsing' Paxman, who said he'd 'need a miracle to win this election'. Could this miracle have been Lightning? I doubt it. If Blair's plane had gone down, he would have been deified, and Brown would have stepped up (or, heaven help us, Prescott). Thus would Howard (who retracted the Vote Blair, Get Brown posters when it was pointed out that that was actually Labour's plan) have been roundly and utterly defeated. You would have thought Howard would have liked Dark and Stormy Nights. |
|
|
27.4.05 19:08 |
|
|
McDon't Even Go There Last night (Wednesday) I had a Fillet Tower Burger from KFC. I got it just as I got on the bus, and let me tell you those guys are bloody hard to eat on the bus, when you have a Pepsi Max in between your legs and bags of books and shopping bumping about on the seat next to you. Have you seen their Tower Burgers? It was huge. I could barely fit it in my mouth. About a gallon of mayo poured out. It was tasty, and I don't have them often; what would happen if I did? Super-Size Me, the docu-film by ... I've forgotten his name already, it was an odd name, look it up, Walton Picknicker or something ... anyway, that was on C4 tonight. Mister Pinkdipper spent a month consuming nothing but food and drink from McDonald's, to see what the effects would be on his body. It was a response to the failed attempt by some obese (that stands for Order of the British Empire, Second Edition) Americans to sue McDo on the grounds that their food has made them fat. Mr Pimpsugar was a normal, healthy average Joseph, but after only a few days of his new McDiet, his health started to tumble rapidly. He gained incredible weight, and became depressed and sickly, his cholesterol shot up and - most surprisingly to doctors - his liver was swiftly deteriorating. The whole package was not good - these were not Happy Meals. He made the point that yes he was eating this junk every day, but the truth of the matter is there are a lot of very fat Americans, who never exercise, spend all day on their butts, drive everywhere - and never cook at home. Drive-ins are so easy, and all cars have cup-holders, for those Big Gulps - I know, 'cos I loved 'em. I could not and can not get over the variety of Fast Fooderies in the US; my favourite is Carl's Jnr. But I tell you this. Tonight I was filling out my application form for residency in the US. It dawned on me (and I admit this is not the first time it has dawned on me) that if I am not careful, I could become a Fat American. Here in the UK I don't drive, and I don't actually eat all that much fast food (save that Tower Burger). I drink a lot of Pepsi Max, sure (which they don't even have in America). In the USA I will have to drive, and might not get the chance to exercise. It's got me worried. It's like a switch to the Dark Side. I might grow a goatee! Just so I know where my chin ends and my neck begins! I'll end up votin' Bush and cursin' the damn' Frenchies and Mex'cans! I'll join the NRA and get me a gun! I'll understand American Football! OR... I'll grow my hair long, go vegan, ride a bike and be a hippy. I am going to Northern California after all. |
|
|
29.4.05 01:41 |
|
|
Chelsea Walk I’m bored with calling myself simply ‘Mr’. One of the reasons I’m pursuing a Master’s Degree is because I want to add ‘MA’ after my name, and maybe who knows, even one day I might be ‘Dr’. But that will take years of long, hard study, plus mountains of debt. But even ‘Dr’ is a fairly common title. I wish I could be ‘Count’, or ‘Baron’. ‘Earl Scully’ sounds nice, doesn’t it? Well, maybe I can, because these days you can buy titles. People all over the country are parting with pretty green to become ‘Lord XXX of Colindale’, and so forth. I might try it. I’d certainly get noticed down the bank. Speaking of buying titles, Chelsea FC became Champions of England tonight for the first time in fifty years. Roman the Emperor’s Russian Roubles have helped the Blues top the league, just as Blackburn did ten years ago. Yet even the most cynical must agree that they deserve it. Mourinho may ooze arrogance like Michael Howard oozes bullshit, but he has been the difference in turning those players into champions. As a Spurs fan I’m not usually one to praise Chelsea…but they have stopped a pretty unstoppable arsenal team from winning the title, and for that I am grateful. At the bottom, it is like a revolving door – Southampton have been dreadful lately, and deserved to be bottom. Norwich on the other hand have been mercurial; yet the Saints beat them 4-3 today, and leapfrogged them to move out of the drop zone. Personally I think Southampton should go down – I have nothing against them, and I’ll be sad to see them drop down, it’s just that Sunderland have been promoted, and they look the same. It’s confusing. At least Norwich offer us something different, colour-wise. The footy season is drawing to a close… |
|
|
30.4.05 22:59 |
|
powered by
20six.co.uk
