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Frog Marched
My wife and I (I love saying that!) just returned from a week in Bavaria, travelling from place to place (not unlike Kane in Kung Fu), trying different local beers, sampling local cuisine. It was a wold away from London, and boy do I know it now I'm back: after taking the piss out of the former Teutonic love of Hasselhoff and the Kelly Family, I learn that the stupid bloody Crazy Frog is number one in the UK charts. How can this be? Who the bloody hell is buying this shite? How has this country allowed such turdsmeared tripe to top the already turgid top ten? On a better note, it seems that the reforming Spice Girls will not be allowed to play the just-announced Live8 show; you see, acts of musical charity are not beyond us! But the Crazy Frog at number one, oh, urgh, that almost made me cry in Virgin Megastore. I feel violent thinking about it. French PM Jean-Pierre Raffarin resigned on Monday, not because of the public's "NON" to the EU referendum, but because he is ashamed to be leader of a country whose neighbour to the north can laugh at French pop, and then 'elect' Crazy Frog as their number one. He's not even a real thing! It's worrying; could they ever make Crazy Frog or the like run for government? Imagine a virtual PM that mutters incoherent jibbereish and looks like a slimy amphibian; it's scary 'cos it's true. In the US they voted one in for a second term. |
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1.6.05 01:49 |
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Frog Update
And the very day after my rant against the frog, I go into work and find that a colleague who I had hitherto assumed was fairly sophisticated (having been Soviet educated) proudly sports the Crazy frog on her mobile. I was shaking, unsure whether smashing her phone up would constitute being a bit rude. I decided to tell her that it's probably better if she keeps her phone on silent. For the best.
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2.6.05 15:04 |
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Plastic Prisoner
Oh Jacko, Jacko, whatever next? Now, as the trial of a centruy (The OJ one was like an episode of The Sky At Night in comparison) draws to a close, and it looks extra bad for the Man of Plastic (apparently he's been paying through the nose for his team of lawyers), for even if he's found Not Guilty of Bumming Boys, he could go away for being a Plonker. And now he's fallen ill and been rushed to hospital. He knows his number is up. He's suffering from dehydration. Can plastic sweat?
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3.6.05 19:38 |
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Shanghai Noon vs The Graduate
Tonight (saturday, despite appearances) I watched two films, and they each had different, profound effects on me. The second was The Graduate, the first Shanghai Noon. Now while I appreciate that these two have nothing in common whatsoever, I will now attampt to find a link. One thing that struck me about Shanghai Noon, which by the way was funny if only for Jackie Chan's fight choreography (I always though that meant knowing lots about long-running northern soaps), was how it dealt with women. It was about saving an Imperial princess, fair enough, albeit in the Wild West. But early on Chan is inexplicably wed to an 'Injun', who appears to follow him at a convenient distance and only step in when he needs his life saving. For this she receives no thanks whatsoever. Not even a card on Valentines Day. After the final showdown between the good guys, the bad guys, and the are-they-good-or-bad-or-what guys, which happens in a church, the Injun girls family (well, tribe) turn up and also save Chan, despite the way he's blatantly mistreated his missus (who is daughter of the Chief). And what happens then? The Injun girl starts kissing not Chan but his odd-nosed buddy Owen Wilson: does Chan even get jealous at this obvious display of spousal frustration? No, he just laughs and then gets it on with the princess. Come on Jackie! The girl is looking for your attention! She doesn't want to commit adultery! She just wants you to love her! Well, apparently not, actually, as she conveniently shacks up with Owen and suddenly starts speaking English. Whereas in The Graduate, Dustin Hoffman causes his girlfriend's parents to divorce by sleeping with her mum, then in the final showdown, also in a church, he makes her jilt her fiance at the altar (a la Alfie Moon-Kat-Andy, in Eastenders) before attacking her family and friends with a cross and locking them in the chapel. For this, she loves him. Okay, that simplifies what is a spectacular film to serve my own ends, but you get the point. Which is that love is a funny old game, especially in the movies. |
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5.6.05 01:57 |
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Sensibly forgiven
...and continuing the films we watched yesterday (saturday, keep up pete), Angela watched Sense and Sensibility, which is a pretty good film with a top cast, directed by Ang Lee who managed to leave out any flying oriental swordfights or big green CG monster men in favour of massive frilly hats and ridiculously tight riding pants. I gave Angela the task of counting how many times the characters say "Forgive Me", and the result was...nine times. Alan Rickman was the winner. Forgive Me...
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5.6.05 17:12 |
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Olympic Biddies
Today the IOC gives an evaluation of London's bid for the 2012 Olympics. They like it, it would seem. That's nice. I've been watching ITV News (Forgive Me..!) and there are still many who don't want the Games here. Nick Fat Git Ferrari was on giving his tuppence ha'penny's worth; when asked by a 16 year old's email why he opposed the bid when the Olympics would help young kids get into sport and thus combat obesity, he replied that we should be doing that anyway, without the Olympics. But if you could see him, he clearly has never done sport or exercise in his life! Besides, kids ignore most government sponsored plans and schemes all the time, but they are inspired by the Olympics. And if it regenerates Stratford, which is largely still a total dump (no offence to Stratford's inhabitants, many of whom deserve the Olympics, but it is a dump despite your modern tube station), it can only be a good thing. And one email flashed up on the screen from another sceptic saying, "London is accessible to those in the South East but not to us living Up North." What? Look at a map of Britian - all roads lead to bloody London, all rail routes lead to bloody London, it's the biggest city so there's plenty of places to stay, do me a lemon. But the main thing about that is that I don't see how Paris, New York, Madrid, Moscow or Rio de Janeiro are more accessible to Mancunians than London. Besides, being such a long journey south, the exercise will do you good. Personally, I would like to see an Olympics for the older set, minimum age 55. The bidding process would be between Eastbourne and Florida. Events could include queuing for your pension, getting the best seat on the bus, and not giving footballs back if they land in your garden. |
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6.6.05 13:30 |
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Fan's Fury
...and Jacko's been in hossie again; he's still awaiting the verdict, and he's been treated for back pains. He'll get a few of those if he goes down, I'll wager. His fans are still camped outside the courthouse. Many of them are Brits who have spent all of their savings and used all of their holiday time to sing soppy songs at the Bodyguarded One beneath the umbrella. "Calling him a molester on live TV," one bleach-haired Ulster Jacko-fan growled, "makes me sick, you should keep your opinions to yourself!" And you shouldn't? I dunno. It's wierd, when a suspected paedophile is on trial in this country, there are normally crowds of people outside behaving like rabid wolves, spitting abuse and threatening death upon the accused, who always identifies himself by putting a bag over his head (why doesn't he ask his lawyer to wear the bag, that would confuse everyone).There, they sing songs about him ('he's Bad,' 'he's Dangerous', 'he's Up the Wall'...)
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6.6.05 13:40 |
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Le Monde
Made in France |
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6.6.05 13:46 |
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Post Pushing
Finally sent off my passport to be renewed, and this time with a picture that doesn't show me as a wild-haired French art-terrorist. In the Post Office, they were really hard sell. Not only was their fee for checking the application a whopping seven quid rather than the slightly-less whopping six quid, but they tried to push travel insurance on me, even though I'm moving to the US and don't know exactly when; they tried to sell me international phone cards, they even tried to push a book of six stamps on me when i only wanted one. The guy even advised me to get an E111 form - which is free - even though (as I pointed out) it's useless in the States, as it only serves the EU. Oh well, they apparently need dosh - closing down hundreds of branches (such as that on Ballards Lane in Finchley, which is having a dark effect on local businesses, such as my place of work, Faculty Books) doesn't seem to have had the desired effect. They don't post the letters any quicker (or more accurately). And so many cheques I've sent from work have gone missing in the mail that it's sometimes easier for me to drop them off at publishers myself. One thing I don't get, though, is that in the States they say 'mail a letter', and we say 'post a letter', yet their service is the US Postal Service, whereas ours is the Royal Mail? I would say 'answers on a postcard', but I can't guarantee it'll arrive. Maybe we should start buying travel insurance for our letters.
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7.6.05 14:42 |
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Congestion Canals
The government want to do away with road tax and fuel duties, and replace them with a satellite-guided per-mile congestion charge. Which is all very well, but surely that will take some big bloody expensive system to put in place, and is quite unlikely to work in cutting congestion. Speaking of which, I've got bad hay-fever now, and my nose is extremely congested, so much so that I'm charging each nostril five pound a day. It hasn't worked, because they have found ways around the c-charge zone and now it's coming out of my ears. I think the best way to get people out of their cars and onto public transport (and admittedly I'm speaking from a London viewpoint; I don't drive, nor do many of my friends, and those that do almost never use their cars - this city is not car-friendly) is not to improve buses etc, but to improve the way they are presented oin the news. All we hear about is happy-slapping on buses, muggings on the tube, delays and cancellations, derailments and strikes. If the media chose not to report all of this stuff, everyone would be happy to use the pleasant, clean underground system, and the buses with their happy, helpful drivers. Hmmm. Having watched a report on climate change, and the threat of flooding, I propose an alternative solution - flood London, and other major cities, and uses boats to get around! It'll be like Venice. Oxford Street would be one big happy canal, though Hyde Park Corner would be a bit of a whirlpool. It sounds ridiculous, but no more ridiculous than what is being proposed. (Well, maybe a little...) |
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9.6.05 10:45 |
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