his face is familiar. as he climbs from a silver car an earring glints in the lights, flickering like a strobe. he smiles at no-one and smooths down a crease in his jacket. calmly he hides a wince as the december cool pokes a finger under his shirt with exploratory depth. acting, i guess.
hollywood teeth.
i expect he has spent most of the day in front of a mirror with a thousand well paid amazons stroking and carving and licking where possible. there is a response in the area that i don't quite understand. i spend the next ten minutes pondering it as i walk away, buffeted by latecomers desperate to glimpse his million dollar smile or his pristine wife.
they could just wait for tomorrow's edition of london lite, if they could stand the words.
it is noisy back there, and camera flashes are busy using up expensive batteries. it must be a little weird for him.
sometimes.
if he thinks about it.
Wednesday, 19 December 2007
Tuesday, 11 December 2007
i'm no superman
he thinks he's clark kent or something. hair, glasses, suit and tie all measure up. There is a giveaway though. underneath it all, he's a couple of feet shorter than me and about half as wide.
his tie is left only half done like he was in mid-change in a phonebox when he got the call from the tube.
it may be a fake tan, but i'm not so sure. he seems the type though.
if it were twenty years ago he'd be shouting down a big grey breeze block of a phone, struggling with the weight of its solid polycarbonate aerial. this would continue even into the tube system to keep everyone in the know about his business expertise, wealth and self-belief. today, instead, he covers the cover of his spy book with a dorothy perkins bag.
he maintains a puffed up chest in order to make him appear bigger and more solid. the breath control needed for this results in a constant look of concern.
his tie is left only half done like he was in mid-change in a phonebox when he got the call from the tube.
it may be a fake tan, but i'm not so sure. he seems the type though.
if it were twenty years ago he'd be shouting down a big grey breeze block of a phone, struggling with the weight of its solid polycarbonate aerial. this would continue even into the tube system to keep everyone in the know about his business expertise, wealth and self-belief. today, instead, he covers the cover of his spy book with a dorothy perkins bag.
he maintains a puffed up chest in order to make him appear bigger and more solid. the breath control needed for this results in a constant look of concern.
Wednesday, 5 December 2007
big
he is enormous. before we settle in opposite seats we stood by each other with him towering above me as far as the roof allowed. tall and wide and thick. he has grown his hair long, thrown carelessly into an elastic banded horses tail.
i count 10 badges on his donkey jacket, each a weird tribal or comic book design apart from one pink ribbon. one has fallen off leaving just safety pin and some glue.
his head is slightly over sized for his features. his eyes are no where near symmetrical.
he is studying a badly written paper that will have been handed to him by some guy dressed in purple. there is an ironic smirk on his face as if to say "these guys are terrible journalists, but this is a free paper."
his fingernails are long and his arms are more hairy than average.
i count 10 badges on his donkey jacket, each a weird tribal or comic book design apart from one pink ribbon. one has fallen off leaving just safety pin and some glue.
his head is slightly over sized for his features. his eyes are no where near symmetrical.
he is studying a badly written paper that will have been handed to him by some guy dressed in purple. there is an ironic smirk on his face as if to say "these guys are terrible journalists, but this is a free paper."
his fingernails are long and his arms are more hairy than average.
Tuesday, 4 December 2007
who are you?
there is a split straight through his thumbnail, looks like he has taken a sharp knife and slowly & carefully sliced a ruler straight line from base to tip. dark brown dried blood marks it out.
it is not worrying him. he sits with legs wide apart, a large sized paperback open on his lap and his arms following the direction of the pages so his elbows stick out beside him and into the burgundy haired woman on one side.
the book is old, second or third hand from an old musty bookshop or riverside table sale. if the bookmark tells the truth; he is a fast reader and has zipped through maybe a hundred pages on this journey.
i think he is an artist. there is a tiny speck of paint on one trouser leg and none of his clothes match.
i never get to see what book he is reading, he dives from the train at the last moment before the doors close at kings cross.
it is not worrying him. he sits with legs wide apart, a large sized paperback open on his lap and his arms following the direction of the pages so his elbows stick out beside him and into the burgundy haired woman on one side.
the book is old, second or third hand from an old musty bookshop or riverside table sale. if the bookmark tells the truth; he is a fast reader and has zipped through maybe a hundred pages on this journey.
i think he is an artist. there is a tiny speck of paint on one trouser leg and none of his clothes match.
i never get to see what book he is reading, he dives from the train at the last moment before the doors close at kings cross.
Monday, 3 December 2007
girl, interrupted
She finds reasons to avoid reading her novel. Constantly she picks it up, reads a line or two and places it back on her leatherette handbag with the relief snakeskin pattern marked out by grease stains. Gabriel Garcia Marque one hundred years of solitude is written on its cover. She attempts to look interested as she skims over a story that skims over a family skimming through time.
With her topcoat buttoned high and her dry straw hair doing their best to cascade over her shoulders; there is but a glimpse of a victorian blouse.
She looks intensely at the route map above my head. Then, with a sigh, heads back to dusty lands and tiresome generations.
She has a pointy face. All features lean forwards in a constant hasty distain. Her engagement ring looks homemade.
I wonder if anyone will ever notice me writing about them like this.
Sunday, 2 December 2007
underground
He clutches an empty espresso cup, holding it near his face as though to smell the remaining frangrance. His hair is slick, ginger deadened by products fighting to hold it against his head.
He has clearly spent a great deal of time trimming his beard into its perfect shape.
He looks american.
Clothes betray each other. A red striped sports top, african necklace with the manufactured tooth of a pretend animal, Tight jeans hold things in place and bulge awkwardly when he crosses and uncrosses his legs. The biggest contradiction covers his feet in enormous black leather and
metal boots, all buckles and studs and architectural steel structures.
Black ray-ban shades are proudly displayed, resting on his forehead and each time he removes them to clean last five minutes dust he reveals two temporary ray-ban scars just above his eyebrows.
His eyes are dark. Like a raven.
Wednesday, 21 November 2007
jazz, delicious hot, discusting cold
rare it is, that a band is greater in the flesh than on the disc.
before cutting the vinyl you can bend and sway the voice, edit the eclectic keyboard, re-drum the faulty drum. steppe by steppe you can piece together a puzzle of good versions with a PC or MAC until your track be perfect. e'en a bad lady recording of girls out-loud miss-firing and stuttering like a spoilt collection of old bangers can be spoon fed into a computer box like an EVENTIDE MODEL H3000-B, H3000-B+ and B/LT ULTRA HARMONIZER®, and everything can be pitch-perfecticided.
this happens pop-freaks. deal with it.
but the run-of-the-mill can be replaced. thankful, i am. now & again you can be jumped upon by a pack of musical hounds with talent falling from every stitch. duke special runs and jumps into this category with by far the best live act i have come across. whilst their music on the compact disc is a fine rendition, you haven't grasped the duke and his merry band of merry men until you've merrily leaned upon their stage.
i miss them when they're gone. i first encountered them at a little known music festival in cheltenham about 4 years ago and desperately attempted to get everyone i knew to join me as the gig slid. they couldn't. some of them were hundreds o' miles away. but then begun my love affair with duke special.
duke special is led by himself, the duke. strongly irish husky tones surrounded by eyeliner and dreads atop a bright red military coat, pouring out unique rocky folky da-da and a hint of mesmerinsing heart. the duke is backed up by a tiny plethora of personable musicians each more talented than the man before and after him; and picking up more than their body weight in different instruments over the course of the evening. a recent addition to the team is that of ben castle on soprano/alto/bass saxomaphone, trumpetteering, clarinet, vox and all round gentrification. yes, he is roy castle's son.
for me personally, and not surprisingly most other audience, the shows are completed by the drummer. no ordinary drummer this. a man who has taken to calling himself "temperance society chip bailey" fulfils the da-daist regions this band ventures into. a phenomenal drummer and percussivist, with a set of snares and toms and cymbals and woodblocks and weird hitty things that would rival a dusty bric-a-brac shop, this ol' chap performs the music.
duke special on stage is an act of theatre.
and there is the music; opening up a soul-wrenching world of fantasy, original, orchestral walls of noise, playful to the end, cutting lyrics and - dare i say it? - beautiful tales of love and hope and the people who have both and neither.
i love this band. go and see them. buy and hear them. they are like nothing you've seen before or will ever see again and they make the world a little bit better.
Wednesday, 7 November 2007
new slang
the shins' albums are a collection of songs that can envelop you and coax you into feeling all warm & cosy with wistful unexplainable melodies and nostalgia and thoughts of charlotte from your year 9 art class whose eyes were like moonlit lakes. listen to them and "they'll change your life" as natalie portman's character says in Garden State.
the shins hardly ever tour, and tickets to their gigs are as hard to come by as a date with the aforementioned charlotte (or natalie portman for that matter - even more's the pity). However my good buddy 'the whackwit' fluked some earlier this year & I managed to step out of work early enough to sample a pint of swedish pear cider before they played.
much as i love their recordings, i have to say i was a little disappointed by the live show. i suppose i was hoping for that enveloping sound, i was hoping to stand in a room of music swaying slowly with my eyes closed in a room of sober, like-minded individuals. not so my friend, not so.
there seems to be a tendency that when bands like the shins perform live, they feel they need to 'liven' up their music, make it noisier and apparently more exciting. it's a shame, because the reason I like them is precisely for the mellowed demeanour of their recordings. if you distort the guitars and put the volume to 11, you destroy the mellow, and replace it with something resembling a bad cover band. though I hate hate hate to say it about a band that I otherwise love, that's a bit like what happened here.
perhaps slightly more unforgivable was the performance itself. the chaps pretty much bluntly refused to engage with the audience, simplifying the show to standing there and churning out the music with next to no personality showing through, bar david hernandez on guitar who jumped about a bit. i love this band, but sad to say it, left this gig feeling a little bit cheated.
the shins hardly ever tour, and tickets to their gigs are as hard to come by as a date with the aforementioned charlotte (or natalie portman for that matter - even more's the pity). However my good buddy 'the whackwit' fluked some earlier this year & I managed to step out of work early enough to sample a pint of swedish pear cider before they played.
much as i love their recordings, i have to say i was a little disappointed by the live show. i suppose i was hoping for that enveloping sound, i was hoping to stand in a room of music swaying slowly with my eyes closed in a room of sober, like-minded individuals. not so my friend, not so.
there seems to be a tendency that when bands like the shins perform live, they feel they need to 'liven' up their music, make it noisier and apparently more exciting. it's a shame, because the reason I like them is precisely for the mellowed demeanour of their recordings. if you distort the guitars and put the volume to 11, you destroy the mellow, and replace it with something resembling a bad cover band. though I hate hate hate to say it about a band that I otherwise love, that's a bit like what happened here.
perhaps slightly more unforgivable was the performance itself. the chaps pretty much bluntly refused to engage with the audience, simplifying the show to standing there and churning out the music with next to no personality showing through, bar david hernandez on guitar who jumped about a bit. i love this band, but sad to say it, left this gig feeling a little bit cheated.
Friday, 2 November 2007
working nine to five
just a little message to all my loved ones:
i'm sorry i haven't really been very responsive of late and haven't replied to any emails or text messages very much or at all. it's not that i'm actively ignoring you, it's just that i've been at work. "at work?" i hear your questions, "but surely there are evenings and weekends that you could've spent not ignoring me.."
nope. i've been working evenings and weekends too. it's stupidly busy here at good old central hall, busy like a hungry cannibal in an asylum. unfortunately the stupidity will continue for about another four weeks, but after that i'll be able to have some sort of social life again and actually meet up with you. so that'll be nice. if you do happen to see me please forgive the way i look, i probably haven't slept.
hope to see you soon, i miss you all. cheerio for now.
i'm sorry i haven't really been very responsive of late and haven't replied to any emails or text messages very much or at all. it's not that i'm actively ignoring you, it's just that i've been at work. "at work?" i hear your questions, "but surely there are evenings and weekends that you could've spent not ignoring me.."
nope. i've been working evenings and weekends too. it's stupidly busy here at good old central hall, busy like a hungry cannibal in an asylum. unfortunately the stupidity will continue for about another four weeks, but after that i'll be able to have some sort of social life again and actually meet up with you. so that'll be nice. if you do happen to see me please forgive the way i look, i probably haven't slept.
hope to see you soon, i miss you all. cheerio for now.
Tuesday, 30 October 2007
tripping over
Some of you may remember that earlier this year I embarked on a trip across Asia that included:
Some unwanted attention from the armed Chinese police force
Narrowly avoiding getting kicked in the brain by a horse
The most beautiful places in the world
Nearly breaking down in the desert
Breaking a vintage motorcycle
Indirectly killing a sheep
A dangerously cold lake
Avoiding tornadoes
Pooing into a hole
Eating a snake
A large beard
Eagles
I wrote every day I was away and finally I have managed to commit my entire journal to the digital world, just for you. Amongst you all; you will have varying levels of interest in my adventure, but you now have a choice whether to read about it or not. You can do so by clicking on this bad boy:
Due to the nature of web logs it’s all back to front with the last entry first, if your level of interest is high you’ll have to forward to the older posts first.
If you have a medium level of interest you can just dip in randomly and read it in any order.
If you have a low level, you might as well have not read that.
Some unwanted attention from the armed Chinese police force
Narrowly avoiding getting kicked in the brain by a horse
The most beautiful places in the world
Nearly breaking down in the desert
Breaking a vintage motorcycle
Indirectly killing a sheep
A dangerously cold lake
Avoiding tornadoes
Pooing into a hole
Eating a snake
A large beard
Eagles
I wrote every day I was away and finally I have managed to commit my entire journal to the digital world, just for you. Amongst you all; you will have varying levels of interest in my adventure, but you now have a choice whether to read about it or not. You can do so by clicking on this bad boy:
Due to the nature of web logs it’s all back to front with the last entry first, if your level of interest is high you’ll have to forward to the older posts first.
If you have a medium level of interest you can just dip in randomly and read it in any order.
If you have a low level, you might as well have not read that.
Saturday, 27 October 2007
jump
i done a picture for the million masterpiece arts project. you should too, it is fun and stuff, innit.
Sunday, 21 October 2007
funny girl
my top ten funniest people:
10. Stephen Fry
9. Peter Kay
8. Harpo Marx
7. Sarah Silverman
6. Nick Frost
5. Lee Evans
4. Spike Milligan
3. Chris Morris
2. Bill Bailey
1. Peter Sellers
'kay, bye
Wednesday, 17 October 2007
liar liar
there's a bit of turmoil in west london. firstly, today i heard that the base of the once great standard in superior broadcasting (BBC television centre) is teetering on the edge of selling out and the miracle doughnut that is television centre may well be sold. SOLD! to someone. who knows who, probably for about £300 million.
shocking.
but i was left stunned today by a far more ridiculous slither of news from the world of world class telly. it's all come from the incredible inflation that recently occurred in the press over the supposed phone in 'scandals' uncovered by the infallible newspaper journalists of our liberated country. i thought at the time, as i do even more now, that the whole thing was blown all out of proportion. suddenly it became unbearable to the british public that TV might bend the truth slightly, on occasion, in order to better present a program.
most unthinkable (according to the broadsheets) was the idea that a when a few phone-in competitions had had technical problems the show producers decided to grab a member of the production team to stand in as a competition winner (thus retaining the beats and rhythms of the show) and donated the prize to charity. i guess the journalists - speaking for we general public - think what should have happened was a presenter come onto screen and said, "sorry, something's gone wrong so we're going to forget about the phone-in and improvise for the 3-and-a-half minutes that was originally dedicated to trying to get some quality viewing out of a muffled conversation with a sniveling semi-retarded ten year old... um, so connie.... how are your teeth today?"
IT'S ENTERTAINMENT.
who gives a post-dubbed-squirrel-fuck if they have to bend the truth every now and again? by all means refund the bankrupting 75p everyone spent on their phone call because their opinion mattered so much they 'simply had to pick up the phone' but don't - for god's sake - let it ruin the future of quality broadcasting. as it may well do.
yes, really.
why?
how about this:
today i heard that programmes like Top Gear are facing a shake up where they won't be able to 'lie' as much. yes; i used the word lie because that's what the idiots at the helm if this idiotic process have deemed a necessary word for it. for some reason top gear (and many other shows too, i use this only as an example); top gear, an ENTERTAINMENT show has been attacked because it takes it too far making us think that 3 completely different cars can arrive after a 4000 mile race within 5 minutes of each other.
for a start: what absolute moron would ever think that this is exactly what happened? what mind-numbed oblivious fool would ever consider the idea that week after week the antics of the three presenters racing and rallying and building and breaking, and always ending in a photo finish, could ever be the complete unabridged unadulterated truth? ever noticed the fact that it's E.D.I.T.E.D.?
dumb-asses.
secondly: why the hell would we want to see the actual practical result of each activity? i'd put money on the fact that it'd be utterly boring TV. if skilled directors and editors want to chop and change some dull footage of old cars driving about a bit so that i can spend an hour escaping into a fantasy world full of intrigue and wit, bloody let them. that's why i watch entertainment shows. to be entertained. the clue is in the name of the genre.
today i heard that CBBC presenters now have to say "here's one we made earlier," because they're not allowed to imply that it was solely them and not a researcher that stuck the sparkly star on the box. i mean seriously, that's not just putting the cart before the horse but sending it careering down the hill and into the river before even waking the horse up. as if a four year old child could give a spun shit about who actually made that particular prop when they have the joy of pritt stick and glitter ahead of them.
i hope the people who are encouraging this "honesty" gain some perspective soon. if not, i worry that we might be heading towards the news being presented from a big grey room, the floor covered in cables, by two people in t-shirts and no makeup reading from some slightly creased bits of A4 paper.
that is if we can see them without any lights on.
.
.
due to the unique way the BBC is funded, er...
we're going to sell it.
we're going to sell it.
shocking.
but i was left stunned today by a far more ridiculous slither of news from the world of world class telly. it's all come from the incredible inflation that recently occurred in the press over the supposed phone in 'scandals' uncovered by the infallible newspaper journalists of our liberated country. i thought at the time, as i do even more now, that the whole thing was blown all out of proportion. suddenly it became unbearable to the british public that TV might bend the truth slightly, on occasion, in order to better present a program.most unthinkable (according to the broadsheets) was the idea that a when a few phone-in competitions had had technical problems the show producers decided to grab a member of the production team to stand in as a competition winner (thus retaining the beats and rhythms of the show) and donated the prize to charity. i guess the journalists - speaking for we general public - think what should have happened was a presenter come onto screen and said, "sorry, something's gone wrong so we're going to forget about the phone-in and improvise for the 3-and-a-half minutes that was originally dedicated to trying to get some quality viewing out of a muffled conversation with a sniveling semi-retarded ten year old... um, so connie.... how are your teeth today?"
IT'S ENTERTAINMENT.
who gives a post-dubbed-squirrel-fuck if they have to bend the truth every now and again? by all means refund the bankrupting 75p everyone spent on their phone call because their opinion mattered so much they 'simply had to pick up the phone' but don't - for god's sake - let it ruin the future of quality broadcasting. as it may well do.
yes, really.
why?
how about this:
today i heard that programmes like Top Gear are facing a shake up where they won't be able to 'lie' as much. yes; i used the word lie because that's what the idiots at the helm if this idiotic process have deemed a necessary word for it. for some reason top gear (and many other shows too, i use this only as an example); top gear, an ENTERTAINMENT show has been attacked because it takes it too far making us think that 3 completely different cars can arrive after a 4000 mile race within 5 minutes of each other.
for a start: what absolute moron would ever think that this is exactly what happened? what mind-numbed oblivious fool would ever consider the idea that week after week the antics of the three presenters racing and rallying and building and breaking, and always ending in a photo finish, could ever be the complete unabridged unadulterated truth? ever noticed the fact that it's E.D.I.T.E.D.?
dumb-asses.
secondly: why the hell would we want to see the actual practical result of each activity? i'd put money on the fact that it'd be utterly boring TV. if skilled directors and editors want to chop and change some dull footage of old cars driving about a bit so that i can spend an hour escaping into a fantasy world full of intrigue and wit, bloody let them. that's why i watch entertainment shows. to be entertained. the clue is in the name of the genre.
today i heard that CBBC presenters now have to say "here's one we made earlier," because they're not allowed to imply that it was solely them and not a researcher that stuck the sparkly star on the box. i mean seriously, that's not just putting the cart before the horse but sending it careering down the hill and into the river before even waking the horse up. as if a four year old child could give a spun shit about who actually made that particular prop when they have the joy of pritt stick and glitter ahead of them.
i hope the people who are encouraging this "honesty" gain some perspective soon. if not, i worry that we might be heading towards the news being presented from a big grey room, the floor covered in cables, by two people in t-shirts and no makeup reading from some slightly creased bits of A4 paper.
that is if we can see them without any lights on.
.
.
Monday, 8 October 2007
collateral
on a recent trip to the local cinema i was strangely and disconcertingly entertained by the tactics of the kino security team. i only caught one small snippet of speech as two very large muscled black guys walked a comparatively tiny little man out:
very well spoken,
"i'm chucking you out this time, but if i catch you doing that again i'm gonna take you out the fire escape and beat the shit out of you."
yowser.
Saturday, 6 October 2007
return to oz
some people have a strange, extreme and uncontrollable reaction to famous people (and not-so-famous people but those who still somehow end up being classed as 'celebrities'). just because a person is in the public eye, for some people this makes them frightening, perfect or god-like. i'm sure you've seen clips of girls losing balance and crying in a curled up state of hysteria just from coming into view of the beatles.i witnessed something similar today, when i scored amazing seats (dead centre, front row) for this evening's performance of wicked. due to bad planning on my part, i needed tickets to a show at the last minute and learned that the victoria apollo theatre releases the front row to anyone who queues up in the morning. so there i was with the die-hard fans standing in the cold; hoping to leave with the best tickets.
the pro: which i did.
the con: we ended up sandwiched between one guy who was seeing the show for the 50th time. yes, fifty. that's about £2000 he's spent in his life on seeing the same show over and over again. holy hell. and he was there on his own so he kept talking to me, asking how i was enjoying it, every time said with a desperate hopeful fear in his eyes that i might have found any fault in the show.
on the other side were what i have called "the teenaged wicked cheerleader squad." noisy as a football crowd. after every song cheering and whooping and giggling like they were in a primary school playground and a boy had just waved at them, crying 'that was aMAZing' like daddy had just bought them a ferrari because their horse was ill. pretty terrifying reaction to anything, let alone a song that they've heard a thousand times.
as for the show itself, it was good. a nice bit of escapism, visually and technically stunning with the best costumes i can ever remember seeing. not a bad story and a fun idea creating a prequel to a classic, although i have to say i don't think it worked trying to recreate the wicked witch of the west as misunderstood, rather than the traditional bad guy. that aspect didn't sit very well with me, though the actress playing her was effortlessly fantastic.
i don't remember any of the songs, apart from the fact that one of them was called 'defying gravity.' the only reason i know that is because the cheerleaders wouldn't shut-up about it.
it was enjoyable, just not one i'd see again. definitely can't see myself spending £2000 on future tickets. jeez. avenue q on the other hand....
Friday, 5 October 2007
the last crusade
there was a point where i thought my ears would bleed i was laughing so hard.
monty python's spamalot. apart from starring a woman who has the most amazing singing voice i have ever heard, by an absolute mile... this show is the most i have laughed in a 3 hour period. ever.
brilliant, go and see it.
say.
no.
more.
monty python's spamalot. apart from starring a woman who has the most amazing singing voice i have ever heard, by an absolute mile... this show is the most i have laughed in a 3 hour period. ever.
brilliant, go and see it.
say.
no.
more.
Tuesday, 2 October 2007
fame
what a joy and privilege it should feel to get tickets to a sold out show, sitting in a private box, to see a man widely regarded and record breaking in the world of entertainment and comedy writing. 
many think of ricky gervais as a genius, the funniest man in britain, nay e'en the world. he's rocked the charts with his podcasts, he's won countless awards both sides of the atlantic and his stand up show "fame" is the fastest selling comedy show of all time.
so sitting there in a box with the troubadour and shoelace, we expected the roof to be blown off of the royal albert hall. it was a packed house, full of adoring fans. but to be honest, the show failed to strike the bell at the top of the applause-o-meter. it was good, don't get me wrong. very good in places. a gag about princess anne offering him cornwall was my particular favourite, closely followed by a pantomime questioning the validity of the phrase 'going commando.'
he did endear himself to me a great deal, though. i've previously written that i wasn't convinced by his approach and attitude to all things serious, ie: charity work. but he spoke at length and was very honest about the work he's done and became a much nicer person in my perception. just a shame he couldn't fill the 14,000 seat auditorium with the energy that someone like lee evans has managed in the past.
he was good, he just wasn't 7 baftas and the albert hall good.
many think of ricky gervais as a genius, the funniest man in britain, nay e'en the world. he's rocked the charts with his podcasts, he's won countless awards both sides of the atlantic and his stand up show "fame" is the fastest selling comedy show of all time.so sitting there in a box with the troubadour and shoelace, we expected the roof to be blown off of the royal albert hall. it was a packed house, full of adoring fans. but to be honest, the show failed to strike the bell at the top of the applause-o-meter. it was good, don't get me wrong. very good in places. a gag about princess anne offering him cornwall was my particular favourite, closely followed by a pantomime questioning the validity of the phrase 'going commando.'
he did endear himself to me a great deal, though. i've previously written that i wasn't convinced by his approach and attitude to all things serious, ie: charity work. but he spoke at length and was very honest about the work he's done and became a much nicer person in my perception. just a shame he couldn't fill the 14,000 seat auditorium with the energy that someone like lee evans has managed in the past.
he was good, he just wasn't 7 baftas and the albert hall good.
Monday, 1 October 2007
what the world needs now is love (sweet love)
al salaam alaikum, readers! literally the day after i wrote about misconceptions of religion i ended up being involved in a press conference to announce the launch of the 'islam is peace' campaign which seeks to 
provide an open, transparent and honest source of information about who muslims actually are. none of this bigoted propaganda that the more extremist fraction like to broadcast, but a voice for the average everyday follower of the islamic teachings. not freaks or idiots or dangerous, but people who condemn the actions of those few.
about freckin' time, i say. a high profile campaign to help desist the mistrust of 2 million british citizens is long overdue. well done chaps.
my favourite sentiment of the press conference was spoken by dr. hany el banna OBE (president of islamic relief worldwide)... he said "this is not about defending islam or christianity or judaism or any other religion, religion is above us, god is above us." one of the major misconceptions of religion is that religious people are filled with contempt for anyone who follows a different set of teachings. it's thought that there is a hatred between them, even more than between believers and atheists. i guess that's understandable from the israel situation. but the whole world is not israel.
(israel is actually that tiny red dot in the middle of the map.)
doctor el banna's sentiment grounded the thought that this isn't the majority case. actually there is a huge respect between faiths, a constant dialog between faith leaders and even social integration in faith groups. shock horror. perhaps it's not about competing for god's attention, but understanding that people have been brought up in different cultures and learned to respect god in different ways. personally i think no religion is 100% right or wrong, what matters is that we understand there is something more powerful than us and accept that it might have an effect on how we live our lives.
what matters even more than that is being excellent to each other.
maybe i'm wrong and actually david icke has it sussed.
anyway, i applaud the work of the islam is peace organisers. and if you don't think you know everything about islam, you couldn't do much wrong by clicking on the logo and having a bit of a read.
i'm writing a lot about religion lately aren't i?
next week: HINDUISM! party on dudes.
provide an open, transparent and honest source of information about who muslims actually are. none of this bigoted propaganda that the more extremist fraction like to broadcast, but a voice for the average everyday follower of the islamic teachings. not freaks or idiots or dangerous, but people who condemn the actions of those few.about freckin' time, i say. a high profile campaign to help desist the mistrust of 2 million british citizens is long overdue. well done chaps.
my favourite sentiment of the press conference was spoken by dr. hany el banna OBE (president of islamic relief worldwide)... he said "this is not about defending islam or christianity or judaism or any other religion, religion is above us, god is above us." one of the major misconceptions of religion is that religious people are filled with contempt for anyone who follows a different set of teachings. it's thought that there is a hatred between them, even more than between believers and atheists. i guess that's understandable from the israel situation. but the whole world is not israel.
(israel is actually that tiny red dot in the middle of the map.)
doctor el banna's sentiment grounded the thought that this isn't the majority case. actually there is a huge respect between faiths, a constant dialog between faith leaders and even social integration in faith groups. shock horror. perhaps it's not about competing for god's attention, but understanding that people have been brought up in different cultures and learned to respect god in different ways. personally i think no religion is 100% right or wrong, what matters is that we understand there is something more powerful than us and accept that it might have an effect on how we live our lives.
what matters even more than that is being excellent to each other.
maybe i'm wrong and actually david icke has it sussed.anyway, i applaud the work of the islam is peace organisers. and if you don't think you know everything about islam, you couldn't do much wrong by clicking on the logo and having a bit of a read.
i'm writing a lot about religion lately aren't i?
next week: HINDUISM! party on dudes.
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