Minging

29 03 2008

headache today. Neither paracetamol nor hydration nor more sleep has helped clear it. A shame, really, as I was looking forward to watching Bornedal’s “Nightwatch“, a delightfully creepy thriller (remade in English with Ewan McGregor), that I was most taken with when I started at university in London. Hopefully it will stand up to re-viewing. This exchange from it is slightly entertaining:

Martin: You know what Hans Christian Andersen did? Every time he had masturbated he wrote a little X in his diary.

Jens: If I had written down an X every time I had masturbated, there wouldn’t be any pencils left in the whole wide world.





Blitzkrieg Bop

21 03 2008

Hey ho, let’s go
Hey ho, let’s go
Hey ho, let’s go
Hey ho, let’s go

They’re forming in straight line
They’re going through a tight wind
The kids are losing their minds
Blitzkrieg Bop

They’re piling in the back seat
They’re generating steam heat
Pulsating to the back beat
Blitzkrieg Bop

Hey ho, let’s go
Shoot them in the back now
What they want, I don’t know
They’re all revved up and ready to go

They’re forming in straight line
They’re going through a tight wind
The kids are losing their minds
Blitzkrieg Bop

They’re piling in the back seat
They’re generating steam heat
Pulsating to the back beat
Blitzkrieg Bop

Hey ho, let’s go
Shoot them in the back now
What they want, I don’t know
They’re all reved up and ready to go

They’re forming in straight line
They’re going through a tight wind
The kids are losing their minds
Blitzkrieg Bop

They’re piling in the back seat
They’re generating steam heat
Pulsating to the back beat
Blitzkrieg Bop

Hey ho, let’s go
Hey ho, let’s go
Hey ho, let’s go
Hey ho, let’s go

The Ramones.

Loudly, whilst cleaning the oven yesterday afternoon.





This weekend I will mostly be doing nothing

20 03 2008

My Easter break has kicked off early, due entirely to working both days last weekend. So as of this morning, I am free. Until Tuesday morning. It has, of course, in the greatest British bank holiday tradition, started raining. Heavily. The TV is full of 10% off adverts for Homebase and images of families decorating/gardening/travelling/visiting stately homes (delete as appropriate) together. The most concerning news for me, however (apart from Brian Wilde sadly passing away) has been that Crown have sought to make odour-free paints.

The smell of emulsion is one of the defining points of my childhood, as I remember the outrage when my parents decided to stop wallpapering the house and paint the walls instead. Ahh yes, the joys of ripping off whole sheets of wallpaper from the skirting board to the ceiling. And the torture of having to remove the final scraps seemingly welded to the wall. No mean feat for a nail-biter like myself.

Anyway, the smell of paint. Generally to reduce it, we tended to open windows and doors, which also ensured that the paint dried that much quicker. So, does this development of odour-free paint reveal anything about British society? Are we so nannied that we cannot survive with the smell of paint for a couple of hours? Are we afraid to open our doors and windows even when we are in the house? Do we all simply have too much money to indulge in these extravagances?

I ask only as these questions have been laying on my mind thanks to the wonderful, if slightly concerning BBC3 programme ‘Freaky Eaters‘ - in which a psychologist and nutritionist try (and generally succeed) to get people with aversions to types of food to overcome these problems and become rounded, valuable members of society. When I say aversions to food, I don’t just mean they dislike broccoli (who doesn’t?), but they will have lived 26 years (as the guy on it last night did) eating only biscuits and chocolate bars (somehow he had become head chef at an Italian restaurant), or the woman who ate only bread and tinned soups, or the guy who had only eaten meat since the age of four. They had never tasted cheese. Or vegetables. Or fish.

How is this possible? With the exception of the States, where most individual rights (and wrongs) are permissible, I cannot imagine that a show would be seen as anything other than a comedy - the victims/patients are lauded for trying a sliver of orange (or banana, as they are not the only fruit), and we get o watch them gagging as they try potato or cabbage for the first time. It was suggested last night that the psychological issues that underpin these aversions are similar to those that we Westerners would feel if presented with locusts or scorpions (I have images of the banquet scene from Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom here), although these also play on Western antipathy towards all things creepy-crawly (and I wonder where that comes from, as there are very few poisonous/dangerous arthropods in Europe). Orientalism?

I myself was a fussy eater when younger, and speaking with the true zealousness of one converted to eating almost anything now, going hungry helps in this. If there is nothing else to eat, you will eat it. Unless, of course, you have an allergy to it, or it is broccoli. My thought would have been that if my child ate only biscuits, do not keep biscuits in the house. Although, obviously it is much easier to give in to these demands, or to assume it is a phase they are going through (not in the 10cc sense), the issue is that my generation has been the first in which it has been possible to defer growing up almost indefinitely (well, till 30-something at least), and, in fact there are whole facets of industries geared up just to this Peter Pan like obsession with our childhoods - DVDs of TV shows, School Disco, constant evenings of nostalgia on TV, re-releases of sweets and chocolate bars (I am convinced that it is only the over-30’s who buy Star Bars and Party Rings), and reissues of Star Wars toys, Marvel comics, etc. Essentially you can now relive (or even create) your childhood in its entirety at a higher cost and with slightly better quality than 20-odd years ago. Or, indeed, you can simply never leave it in the first place.





Mea culpa

13 03 2008

I know it has been remarkably quiet around here for the last couple of months.

To be honest, it is not that I have been lacking in inspiration, the problem is that the inspiration has been to write about topics that I find tedious when reading through the draft. It is almost as if the orgasmic explosion of actually getting the words down in some form is the thrill - then I tend to walk away for a couple of minutes and return to something that is lacking in so many areas and a disappointment in general.

I have neither the time nor the inclination to try and rework any of these drafts - my writing style (if there is such a thing) has always tended towards density (maybe the many years of German have compelled me to write in a Teutonic style - even in Czech (in which I am far from proficient at present), a simple presentation ended up as some pseudo-intellectual tripe, full of subordinate clauses, phrasal verbs and general masturbatory case usage). I lack the journalistic clarity and lightness of touch of my contemporaries.

In fact I notice, as I write this, that I still have two drafts waiting for work, one following my holiday in Ireland last June, and the other about Led Zeppelin from November. I can’t even remember what I actually wanted to say any longer, and it is no clearer to me on reading them - I am sure there are points to be made, but they are obfuscated by the unnecessarily dense text and my insistence on using cultural theory buzzwords that I am not entirely sure I understand.

Anyway, I am off for a chocolate brioche and some nuclear-strength Italian coffee to start my day-off off. In the meantime, though, here are a list (again a list) of things that have been interesting me recently:

Geert Mak’s In Europe
Jan Štolba
Mac certification
Goldfrapp’s Seventh tree