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Thursday 20 November 2008
Waaaaaaaa-Hoooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!
Kate Bush announces date of new album.
I'm *wildly* excited by this, even though I know I'm setting myself up to be massively disappointed.
Beautifully Creepy
On my way into work this morning I drove past the graveyard at the end of the road, and wished I could stop to take a photograph. Seen through the railings, with the mist dense around the gravestones, lit brilliant orange by the early morning sunlight, it was just stunning.
The BA Fiasco
I meant to make a comment about this a while ago, when I heard the news report that for the first time in twelve days, passengers on BA longhaul flights would have hot meals provided (I think this would have been around last Tuesday).
This got me thinking about the way things used to be done by BA at Heathrow. Back in the day, there was a massive BA facility called Catering Centre South located (unsurprisingly) on the south side of Heathrow. A hugely impressive facility, it used to produce all of the catering for BA's flights out of Terminal Four (all the longhaul in those days) and if memory serves, a certain proportion of the Terminal 1 departures.
Now of course, Catering Centre South is no longer a BA facility, because in one of the airline's many cost-cutting exercises, the business was sold off. Curiously, it seems that very facility is now Gate Gourmet's Heathrow centre of operations.
BA do this kind of thing on a regular basis, and for some weird reason, it seems that every time they do, the decision comes back to haunt them, usually in the form of massive passenger disruption and negative publicity. I suspect that the weird reason is that they do it for short term savings and then create a situation where the sold-off business is beholden to BA to operate effectively, resulting in long term problems when they try to squeeze them as a supplier (wich BA have admitted they did to GG the last time they negotiated their contract). I guess them learning the lesson would be out of the question.
And on the subject of bad publicity - I think three quarters of the negative comment I heard from passengers affected by the situation was about not being told what was going on. Keeping passengers informed during disruption used to be one of the central tennets of BA customer service standards. The recognition is that an airline is subject to so many uncontrollable factors that some disrution is inevitable, so when it happens, keep people informed and they'll be way more understanding than if they don't know what's going on.
It seems like that may be another thing that BA let fall by the wayside as it's gone along.
EDIT - I was just checking out the Catering Update on the BA Website ahead of a flight I'm taking tomorrow:
"Currently the only catering available on-board our shorthaul flights is tea and coffee, however either a voucher for use in the terminal or a deli-bag will be available to collect prior to boarding."
FFS...
Unexpected
On many levels unexpected:
Unexpected that we set out on Sunday morning for a trip to Alton Towers (yes, on a Bank Holiday Weekend? File that one under "Why the fuck?").
To provide some context, David had free tickets, and we took the view "If it's hell on earth when we get there we won't go in, we'll just explore the Peak District a bit."
Unexpected further that when we got there not only was it not hell on earth, it was actually quite quiet. Quieter in fact than when I was there a couple of months ago with work on a weekday outside the school holidays.
So we had a great time - went on all the rides we wanted to without any undue queuing, and got out at a civilised time for the journey back to London through unexpectedly light traffic.
I was, I confess, stunned at every stage.
If It's Saturday....
.... I must have been to Ikea.
Actually, it's ages and ages since I have been to Ikea, but David's keen to add some storage facilities to the bedroom, so we thought we'd brave it. It's a weird thing to think that I used to go there so much and be so easily swayed by their stuff. Now I'm more likely to just go in, knowing what I want, get it and leave, if indeed I even go at all.
Oh the times they have a changed.
We found what we wanted by the way. But they were out of stock.
Warcraft
Back in March, I discussed how I'd been sucked into World of Warcraft alongside my beloved, and how I couldn't stop playing it.
The prospect of playing quite a lot of it over the weekend seems as good a time as any to acknowledge that I'm still hooked. I can't tell you how bizarre it seems to me that a computer game has me this much in its thrall. I'm just not that kind of person.
Weirder still, David, whose gaming is more varied and extensive than mine, has tried a number of alternatives in an effort to break the addiction, and none of them have taken. He might last a couple of sessions on something else before returning, like a crack 'ho to the pipe, to the amazing world of Azeroth.
Seriously - this game is dangerous to one's ability to have a life.
Bank Holiday
It's odd how I always wish that the August Bank Holiday wasn't the last one of the year and then go into it with absolutely no plan to make the most of it.
For some reason David and I are both perpetually knackered at the moment, so we keep thinking about things to do at weekends, then reaching about Thursday night and saying "can we please do absolutely nothing this weekend?".
It would be a shame to do that with the last three day weekend of the year, but on the other hand, three whole days of doing nothing has an unmistakable appeal.
Who dear? Me dear? Gay dear? No dear.
Watched the last programme from series two of The Catherine Tate Show last night, and as in previous weeks thought that it compared very favourably with the somewhat underwhelming Extras, the main narrative of which never lived up to the brilliant self-mockery of its star guests (Patrick Stewart in the last one - "All her clothes fall off. And I can see everything." - Genius).
Catherine Tate is a sketch show in the classic mould, meaning that each joke is essentially the same every week, and it's only the situation in which it's placed which varies. So it's the familiarity which creates much of the comedy, and the audience being in the know gives the performance a certain amount of short-cut space (the pause before Lauren says "Am I bovvered?" is now as much a part of the gag as the line itself).
The obvious danger in all shows that follow this format is that the joke reaches the point where it's simply not funny any longer, or not capable of being transplanted into any further situations. Dropping some of the thinner concepts between series one and series two helped in this process (so no Aga Saga Woman, no Shocked Woman, and only a couple of showings for Bernie the nurse and Elaine the Internet Romance Woman), and the creation of some new characters was essential, but I don't feel that the balance was exactly right to make the second series as consistently great as the first. In particular I'd say it's time to retire 'Nan', whose one joke stopped being funny quite a while back.
Among series two's creations, the obvious stand out is Derek, grotesque in the way that so many great comedy creations are. His prolonged protestations that he's not gay in the face of all the evidence to the contrary work on a number of levels, not least the one which reflects real people I actually know. Plus, "How very dare you?" is brilliant, though self-consciously 'a catchphrase', which is why I decided against using it as the title of this posting in favour of another Derek line.
Eight out of ten for the series versus nine for series one.
Five Years On
Just an anniversary I think is worthy of note:
Today is the fifth anniversary of me buying my flat. It doesn't seem that long, but I guess that's at leats partly because I've barely been living in it for most of the last year....
I Need Ooh La La La La
Just a quick note to say that we're loving the new Goldfrapp album in our house. We're just listening to it over and over.
I'm In The Money!
Well, not so much.
Who remembers the OnDigital/ITVDigital fiasco? Well, at the time ITVDigital folded, I was one of those who'd paid upfront for a year's subscription then got about three weeks use out of it before everything went dark.
Today, in a startling development, I received a letter from the liquidators telling me that my claim of £100+ had been assessed and I was being paid a dividend based on the available funds and the size of my claim. A cheque was attached....
Now, what treasures shall I pursue with the unexpected and princely sum of £10.48?
'Bye Mo
Probably no great surprise after recent news coverage, but still saddening to hear of Mo Mowlam's death. She was my mother's MP and probably the only Labour politician she's ever said a good word about.
I thought of her as one of those British politicians of character and integrity that have to be treasured because they come along so infrequently. Tony Benn is one such, Mowlam was categorically another.
I'll miss that playful way she could deal with people which somehow always managed to convey that she was deadly serious about what she said and did.
Even though she'd stepped out of politics, still a massive loss to the country.
I Havent Mentioned Potter, Have I?
Meant to, but didn't get round to it. My original plan was to save Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince to read on the extended flights of the wedding trip, but then the thought of lugging it in my carry-out hit and I decided to read it before I went. This meant that finishing it and having to run around like a mad thing washing and packing for the trip all mushed into the same brief span, hence I didn't blog about it.
So; I liked it. Long-term readers may recall that I was about as unimpressed with the last one as it's possible to have been, but I think the series is redeemed by Volume Six. I still think JKR is rather a clunky prose writer, but she's got an eye for a plot and continues to throw in highly creative concepts along the way. This one's a bit talky until what feels like a rather hectic final sixth, but the good kind of talky, that develops the characters in positive ways, unlike last time.
I do think though that unless a hell of a lot happens between books, she's left herself a massive amount to wrap up in a single final installment.
Anyway - the thing that finally reminded me briefly to mention it is this link, which is via me finally fitting in a catch up with John's postings over at Sore Eyes. Very amusing.
It's Telling, Isn't It?
Setting aside for a moment the appalling fuck-up that it increasingly looks like the shooting of Jean Charles de Menezes by the police was, a thing that struck me as the details originally emerged and that I meant to blog at the time:
Do we all remember the eye-witness accounts from people on the train about the 'Arabic' man who was targeted? I heard at least four or five people describe him as such. When I heard he was Brazilian I did wonder about this. Now I've seen photos of the guy (as in the linked piece), I've gone beyond wonder into the worrying realisation that human nature is exactly as bad as I always thought. Because he doesn't look even remotely Arabic. People just wanted him to be when they thought he was a terrorist.
Damn Those Women!
All of them!
They're too powerful, too much in control, and too damn good at multi-tasking!!!! It's their fault we don't have a manufacturing industry any more! They just treat men as walking sperm banks! It's amazing we even have a civilisation any more, the way they go on!
It must be true; Michael Buerk said so.
And he's obviously in no way a misogynistic old git.
Well Thank The Lord That's Over
Yes, I know it's people like me who keep talking about it, but I've been very restrained this year. My Big Brother commentary has been a thing of almost naught, but I'll offer a few points arising from the final:
1) I stand by my original assertion that this year's initial mob were the most universally hateful group of people I think I've ever seen in one place. I started out not wanting any of them to win, and I ended up with exactly the same view. I was willing to get behind Eugene at the last, after he demonstrated that he actually has balls on Wednesday, and I'm glad he yanked half the prize month out from under Anthony's nose.
2) I'm happy to note that none of them seem to be getting any exposure to speak of (Orlaith's tits notwithstanding) since they were evicted along the way. As David noted, usually by this point one or two of them have been seen at a premiere or something, but I don't think it's happening this year.
3) 'Kin' hell, how evil a bitch did Makosi come across as? I honestly think she'd have been best to have taken a "It's a gameshow, I was playing the game; get over it" approach, but no, she just confirmed that she really is as vile as the rest of them.
4) Loved the evil looks Craig kept giving everyone else. Gut instinct: after about a month he and Anthony will never speak to each other again.
5) Eugene coming out of that place was brilliant. All those stupid thumbs-up poses he kept striking for the cameras were so wonderfully goofy. Compare and contrast with Anthony's cocky/arrogant style thirty minutes later.
6) And speaking of Anthony - how thick is he? He could barely string syllables together, never mind words. And don't tell me it's down to the excitement. Nadia managed to be more intelligible last year in her non-native language. Just dumb. I'll concede pretty, but dumb. Pretty dumb, in short.
Craig Is Out!
Well, Big Brother was unexpectedly entertaining this evening, as the most loathsome housemate they managed to deliver out of this year's pack of vile examples was evicted as the least popular of the last five. Hardly surprising - I'd imagine he'd come last out of a line up that included Hitler, Ian Huntley and the 11th September bombers.
And once he was out, he was if anything worse than he was when he was in. What a wanker. All of that bollocks about his sexuality: "I know what I am, and I'm comfortable with it, but I just can't bring myself to say the word." Well Craig, I wish you wouldn't, because no one I know wants you in our tribe....
The second twist of the evening was more entertaining still. One housemate had the chance to gain half the £100K prize money unconditionally, but knowing that would only leave half of it for the eventual winner. What larks that it was Eugene who inadvertantly put himself in the hot seat, as he's the only one of the lot you can even imagine hesitating. Oh how he agonised before making what I confess was the shocking but absolutely sensible choice to take the money. I'd have seriously expected him to 'do the right thing'. Of course, he made the decision without knowing that if he turned it down, the final prize money would have doubled....
Nice that C4 have managed to add something a little interesting to the mix even at this late stage. The fact that he may still win overall and so get the rest of the money makes his call a little ironic of course, because if he'd said no, as the current favourite with the bookies he might have walked away with £200,000....
Robin Cook
I honestly can't remember the last time I was as shocked by a newsworthy figure's death.
Seriously sad, and a massive loss to British politics. Tributes here.
Back Again
Quick round-up of the last couple of weeks:
Well, there was a wedding in Las Vegas. There was a suitable amount (but not an excess) of parental crying on both sides. There was a little wedding chapel. There was an Elvis. There was a Best Man's speech (my second in 12 months), that was put together without notes the evening before the wedding. There was the embarassingly drunken late-middle-aged woman with fond memories of the Groom's childhood. There was a domestic of sufficient vigour that the hotel security people got involved at the tail end of the reception (I was long gone by then, so I don't know much more detail than that). Overall, there was everything you need to know that there was definitely a wedding.
The second leg in San Francisco was fairly drastically curtailed for various reasons, so I've acually been home longer than was originally the plan, but having promised myself a break, that's what I've had, and I've well and truly slumped since I got back. No email, no blogging, just a desperate need to do absolutely nothing of consequence, which I appear to have succeeded in managing. (To the extent that I actually forgot to buy new work shoes, having dumped my old ones in SF after they split right across the sole. - Guess what I'll be doing this lunchtime....)
So now I'm back. Not entirely re-invigorated; over a week of being on family duty isn't exactly relaxing; but certainly relatively calm.
Ironically, the thing I'm now most looking forward to is a week's holiday in October. But that's because it's the first holiday David and I will have taken together, and that's what I want more than anything.