Wednesday 14 November 2012

News

Back in the heady days of 1997, my parents got cable TV. Satellite  having previously been resisted, presumably due to a combination of giving money to the sinister Murdoch-helmed empire and having a massive dish on the front the house.

Back in those days we didn't have the same number of compelling channels we do today. I think there were 60 or so, and a large number of those were foreign news channels. I recall particularly a Russian one. There was also, although this didn't last very long (I assume they were too expensive), CNN.

I'd never watched American news before although I did have a large number of judgmental and prejudiced ideas about what form and style it might take. These ideas turned out to be entirely correct (or I wouldn't have admitted to them just now) and I ended up watching it for amusement purposes*.

Now, the one thing I couldn't get all superior of was the provincial nature of the news, rarely was anything outside of the US covered. That's pretty much the same for our news here**, unless of course some British people happen to have been on holiday during the time that whatever news was occurring first occurred.

But since those days we now have rolling news on all channels, with those little tickers rolling along the bottom. The problem is often not much is happening so you end up with loads of coverage of a man outside a door and endlessly repeating himself.

Now I like the idea of endless grinding repetition, after all after a while it does start to get interesting*** but I can't bear to watch more than 1/2hr of news at any one time. Maybe that should be my next milestone.

* The best thing I was watched on CNN was their coverage of Lady Di's funeral. For some reason their insistence on referring to the M1 as simply "M1" really grated,

** Local news is amazing for this. When I grew up, the local news was inane to an astonishing degree, usually featuring a farmer in Wiltshire who was upset about something. When I moved to London, I assumed the local news would be packed full of excitement  but it fact it was just as bad although for "farmer" substitute "teacher" and for "Wiltshire" substitute "Willesden".

*** Zen innit. Or something. God, I've clearly been reading too much David Foster Wallace, far too many footnotes.

Thursday 8 November 2012

Thursday 26 April 2012

It's "Political Correctness Gone Mad" Gone Mad

There is a rule, to be found on the internet, which states that a parody of something extreme can commonly be mistaken for the real thing and vice versa.

I had this in mind when I got a leaflet though the post advertising the forthcoming mayoral election. Now you might not know about this, as it isn't something often discussion on the television, radio or internet but apparently there is this election to decide who is going to be the next elected Mayor of London.

You may find it hard to believe but I find elections quite interesting as a whole. The last general election, with the whole activating the queen, and tracking a car driving from one house to another live from a helicopter was a case in point. I'd even watch coverage of a US election, on the grounds that it will certainly affect what goes on elsewhere, even if it is as incomprehensible to me as American football.

But the mayoral election isn't very interesting at all. In fact the most interesting thing is that the candidates drew lots to decide what order they were going to appear in the booklet.

The big three candidates are exactly the same ones as last time, looking slightly older, world-wearier as their visage appears next to colourful backgrounds, lists, and all the rigmarole of politics.

Given the mainstream guys are so boring, one can't help but find oneself reading up on the fringe guys, who together make up about 7% of the vote together (it's hard to tell with all of this 2nd preference stuff)

I can't remember if I just imagined it, but I'm sure someone promoted the idea that if a parking meter was broken you could park for free, prompting some wag to point out you could just kick in the nearest parking meter every time you parked.

I suppose if you're a fringe candidate you can just make up any old shit, secure in the knowledge it won't matter so I'm interested in UKIP's "20 minutes free parking" idea. I can only assume they will be building car parks down to the mantle.

But it's the BNP who baffled me beyond all rational comprehension this time, so I am assuming under the law mentioned above, must have been replaced by some satirical organisation hell-bent on ridiculing the far right.

I mean for crying out loud their candidate is called Carlos Cortiglia. My first assumption was that he was born here to parents from foreign, but no, he is actually from foreign! And a non-English speaking foreign too. Oh apparently Uruguay was built on British ideals. Didn't the Spanish nick it from some natives? Not much Britain there.

Okay, he is white, but still. Does that somewhat defeat the point?

Still I think he wins some kind of chutzpah* for introducing a policy to make tube travel free at weekends, whilst simultaneously abolishing the congestion charge. Nice one!

* Sorry I think that's a foreign word. I should be using traditional British languages like Welsh or Norse really.

Wednesday 11 April 2012

I Have Forgiven Golf

I have always tried to be a snob and a reverse snob in equal measure, in the hope that somehow this will cancel each other out and I will become a well-rounded person.

Of course it doesn't work like that, however much you hope, just like trying to know a little bit about everything ends up with massive gaps and a tendency to be glib.

It is the same with sport. I wouldn't say I have no interest in sport, but I don't really know what's going on and when those inevitable blokey football conversations I flounder* terribly.

But like my previous decision not to miss out on books just because the author may or may not be a misogynist prick if it was a good one, I have decided not to dismiss sports because they're for "poshos" or that they serve imperialism or whatever.

And golf is just darts outdoors with sticks really. But I won't be donning a Pringle jumper or whatever it is that they wear these days.

* Although nothing will top the moment last Sunday when I referred to Arsenal midfielder Mikel Arteta first as "Arriety" and then "Aloutte" in front of my dad and uncle, who were both desparate to know the latest news from Ashburton Grove whilst we were in a pub with limited signal.

Tuesday 20 March 2012

Have A Nice Day

It is a bit of a stretch to say it, but it is generally true: every job I have done has been in the vague field of "customer service". This can take many forms, but I'm using it in the sense of "the general public may well contact me and try and get me to do things for them". Luckily, for the most part I have been snugly insulated from them by being in an office they won't be going in to. Another plus point is that the main focus of the job is not this: I'm not sat there literally all day answering the phone. I would not like that.

(I will remember to my dying day, the work colleague who sat opposite me becoming increasingly irritated by a phone call she had recieved, rolling her eyes throughout, eventually putting the phone down and muttering "cunt breath". I always get paranoid that if I try that, I will somehow not put the phone down correctly and will get busted, which generally isn't good, even if some people claim they find a bit of "Wong Kei" style rudeness refreshing)

I like to think that because of this I can, without being too much of a patronising idiot, see it from the other side if that's where I am. I write excellent complaint letters for example, I was delighted to discover recently.

But I bet those hapless people who have to deal with me think the same of me as I think of the people who I have to deal with.

In conclusion, everyone who has worked in customer service has had sentiments similar to this song going round their head at some point. Hooray for Brecht!








Tuesday 28 February 2012

Ewige Blumenkraft!

I remember when I was younger being quite disappointed when I realised the space race was about asserting military supremecy, not about the wonders of human exploration.

I did, however think I myself that not everyone who was involved thought like that, and there had been some pretty nice side effects, so I don't mind at all.

In a simialar vein I often find myself getting quite excited about various odd groups and movements, only to realise that they are paid up members of the green ink brigade.

It was via this excellent blog post that I first learnt of the "freemen on the land" movement.

Now I had heard the term on the David Icke forum, which I nearly joined before I realised that probably wouldn't be as amusing long term as it was on first glance, but I had no idea what it meant. It seemed to be nothing lengthy letters in fake legalese. Interestingly, even there most people seem to think it's rubbish.

The whole thing seems like an exercise in anarchy but with forgetting to abolish the state first. Much as they would like, you can't just wish the state away. State monolopy on violence, anyone?

I can agree the debt repayment companies are sometimes underhand and decietful and our current system of government can lead to disinfranchment but guys, come on!

And if they were genuine freedom fighters, I might have a bit of a soft spot for them. But it all seems to be people trying to get out of paying their council tax or motoring offences. There's no Sacco and Vanzetti style "your false god"/"man was wolf to the man" stuff. There's no amusing Discordian pranking. They're not the true Levellers. They're just mercentile reactionary pricks.

Sunday 29 January 2012

Noise

A recent article in the BBC magazine talks about unwanted noise, mentioning car horns, beeping machines and the like.

The French intellectual Jacques Attali, in his book Noise: The Political Economy of Music, maintains that, even if the sounds are attractive, it is the monotony of repetition - introduced with mechanical musical reproduction - that takes the pleasure out of listening.
I don't know about you, but I like the sound of mechnical musical reproduction. It kind of makes me think of something like this.


Disappointingly, the article does not mention the Italian Futurists, who might be scary and fascistic if they didn't come across as being more than slightly ludicrous:

We will sing of great crowds excited by work, by pleasure, and by riot; we will sing of the multicolored, polyphonic tides of revolution in the modern capitals; we will sing of the vibrant nightly fervor of arsenals and shipyards blazing with violent electric moons; greedy railway stations that devour smoke-plumed serpents; factories hung on clouds by the crooked lines of their smoke; bridges that stride the rivers like giant gymnasts, flashing in the sun with a glitter of knives; adventurous steamers that sniff the horizon; deep-chested locomotives whose wheels paw the tracks like the hooves of enormous steel horses bridled by tubing; and the sleek flight of planes whose propellers chatter in the wind like banners and seem to cheer like an enthusiastic crowd.

Erm... okay guys.

A thing I have noticed since obtaining a pair of noise-cancelling headphones is that your sense of space when walking about is affected. I kind of like that too, although it does take a bit of getting used to.

I think the best thing to do if affected by noise is to stick some of those earphones in and listen to something with a lots of "frequencies". Something like this, perhaps?



Sunday 15 January 2012

Hello My Name Is Twilight And I Am A Dracula

I invented a new game recently. Sometimes, for my own amusements I like to get things wrong, adding "the" and pluralising where it is not necessary. I am probably the only person who finds this amusing, but nevetheless I feel the need to take it to the next level.

There is brief amusement in confusing fictional characters and the authors who created them or the actors who portray them, but I want to go further than that.

 I want to confuse characters or catchphrases with titles. It's the only way forward.

In its most basic form, you can start by assuming the name of the band is the name of the singer.

You know that guy, Jethro Tull? Plays the flute?

Which one's Pink?

This is just the beginning though. Taken to extremes, you can apply it to any media.


Monday 2 January 2012

Introduction

Television, like all of the arts, thrives on familiar formats. If something new becomes successful, then you won't be able to move for the next few months, or ever years, for soulless rip-offs. Some of these, of course, trascend their origin and become excellent in their own right. I like it when this happens. I like being proved wrong when I've been cynical, though not too often of course. Then it gets boring.

My favourite thing I've noticed a lot on television recently, although I don't know if this is thing that has actually become more prevalent in recent years, or if it is just my imagination, is a noticeable increase in what I refer to as the Enthusiastic Man

The classic home of an Enthusiastic Man is one of those television shows which has several presenters, all of whom do their own little section within the programme, adding up to a glorious whole – well that is the plan. Like a lot of things, if you get bored with one section, fear not, there will be something else along in a minute to take away the pain.

I should make one thing clear here at this point, the Enthusiastic Man is always a man. I'm not saying that woman cannot display enthusiasm when presenting a television programme, just that the traits of the Enthusiastic Man are, male in the stereotypical fashion. The stereotypical ways women presenters are used on television is a whole different thing, and not something I am going to go into detail about now.

Perhaps if the Enthusiastic Man were allowed to break free from his allotted slot, and front an entire television show, we might become irritated by him*,  perhaps he is better utilised in moderation, like swearing and binge drinking. This is obviously the thinking behind having him in small chunks on the programme, the programme makers obviously feel that he would outstay his welcome if he was there any longer.

The Enthusiastic Man finds beauty in things that are not normally considered beautiful, but also additional beauty in things that are, his presence and enthusiasm adding a whole new layer of appreciation. This is why I like him.

I would like more excitable about things. I do get excited about things fairly often, but I do tend to get rather self-conscious about it. I would not make a good Enthusiastic Man. My arms do not flail around freely but remain boxed in near to my body. I am the textbook “bad actor”, my heartbreaking and hilarious one-man show will not be touring any provincial theatres ever.

This blog is named in tribute to my favourite of all the enthusiastic men, King Enthusiastic Man, if you will, is Geoffrey Munn, jewellery expert on the Antiques Roadshow.


* I think a lot of people find Enthusiastic Man irritating even in his limited time on the programme, but each to their own.