Labour are perhaps relying a little bit too much on Ed Miliband’s sexual magnetism to win over rivals, if this breaking news story from the Guardian is anything to go by.
Archive for the ‘Daft’ Category
I played my first ever game of Pictionary this weekend, at Andrew and Sophie’s flat. It turns out I’m not as good an artist as I thought, and that none of us can draw hands. Here, though, are a couple of very decent attempts at depicting madness. Can’t remember who drew them, though – perhaps Alec and Sophie? Anyway.
Wow. Look at this. Labour MPs who wish to be considered for a shadow cabinet position are currently sending out letters asking for support (the 19 individuals are voted in by the PLP). Most are pretty sensible. And then there’s this, courtesy of Maria Eagle, the MP for Garston and Halewood.
According to Wikipedia, Maria, “Like her sister, she is a very able chess player having played for England, and a keen cricketer”.
Me and Lyndsey were playing this during the Question Time debate the other night – we each drew lots and competed over who’d get the most references. This is basically how I’ve got through the Labour Leadership contest – bingo and drinking games.
For what it’s worth, I thought Ed Balls was the clear winner. (Not of the bingo, of the debate).
I’m still, predictably, struggling with the whole Ed vs. David question. Instinctively I lean towards the former, but I think the latter may well be the most pragmatic, pluralist choice.
Either way – digging through a big box of old newspaper cuttings earlier today, I found this – the first time Ed Miliband featured in Steve Bell’s wonderful If… comic strip, I think (it’s dated 16 July 2007).
Incidentally, he may be bonkers, but I’m really enjoying Tony Blair’s book.
This is totally brilliant – someone has taken the trouble to update Wikipedia with a full, clear synopsis and explanation of the the lyrics to Warren G’s still-fresh classic ‘Regulate’. Exerpt below; click here to read the full thing:
“Warren, unaware that Nate is surreptitiously observing the scene unfold, is in disbelief that he’s being robbed. The perpetrators have taken jewelry and a name brand designer watch from Warren, who is so incredulous that he asks what else the robbers intend to steal. This is most likely a rhetorical question.
Observing these unfortunate proceedings, Nate realizes that he may have to use his firearm to deliver his friend from harm.
The tension crescendos as the robbers point their guns to Warren’s head. Warren senses the gravity of his situation. He cannot believe the events unfolding could happen in his own neighborhood. As he imagines himself in a fantastical escape, he catches a glimpse of his friend, Nate.
Nate has seventeen cartridges to expend (sixteen residing in the pistol’s magazine, with a solitary round placed in the chamber and ready to be fired) on the group of robbers, and he uses many of them. Afterward, he generously shares the credit for neutralizing the situation with Warren, though it is clear that Nate did all of the difficult work. Putting congratulations aside, Nate quickly reminds himself that he has committed multiple homicides to save Warren before letting his friend know that there are females nearby if he wishes to fornicate with them.”
There’s a lovely bit in the first series of ‘The Office’, where David Brent, in the middle of a performance review, is caught out by Tim, and accused of reading aphorisms from a carefully hidden piece of paper.
“If we’re facing in the right direction”, Brent advises, “all we have to do is keep on walking”
Tim: “Yep, very nice. You’re quite a philosopher”
David: “Well, it’s just that… I think that our greatest glory is not in never falling but in rising every time we fall”
Tim’s patience snaps. “Are you reading these?”, he asks.
David: “Am I what?!”
Tim: “Reading the quotes”
David: “Sort of…”
I was reminded of this watching football on the telly this weekend. I’m not sure if you’ve ever noticed this, but football commentators make quite a thing of dropping learned references into otherwise anodyne punditry.
On Saturday, I was idly watching Portsmouth – who are currently in horrific financial straits – playing Birmingham in the quarter finals of the FA Cup. Winning the cup nearly bankrupted the club last time they did it (because of all the stratospheric win bonuses in the players’ contracts) but it’s hard not to wish them well at present, given that their fans have so little else to cheer about. And happily, they were 2-0 up after about seventy minutes, at which point I enjoyed the following comment. It’s only really funny, I think, because of the way the sentence is constructed, as if part of a conversation, a spontaneous observation; when it is rather obvious that, in reality, Peter Drury had a few smart comments written down on a piece of paper, and was reading them out.
“I think…”, he said, as if he couldn’t quite remember, “I think it was William Hazlitt who said that while prosperity is a great teacher; adversity is a greater”.
You think it was? If only Gareth Southgate had done a Tim.
Gareth: “Are you reading these?”
Peter: “Sort of”.
Not sure where this was originally published, but spotted this on the web the other day. Rather labours a crass point but… I like making crass points sometimes.
I don’t really get the whole Lord of The Rings thing, personally – what little affection I have it for it springs from childhood memories of listening to The Hobbit on cassette (although I never got through it), and the animated film from 1978, which scared me senseless when I was young. The Peter Jackson remakes were OK; involving and exciting in parts but desperately over-long and ever so reverential.
But! I am enjoying Natalie Podrazik’s Hobbited Blog more than I can say. Natalie is, unbelievably, just about the last person on Earth who knows nothing about Lord of The Rings, and is thus blogging her first encounter with Bilbo Baggins et al from a position of complete innocence. Her bewilderment and good humour make this an essential winter read. I hope she sticks with it longer than I did those blasted audiotapes.
Here she is getting frustrated with Gandalf.
First of all, Gandalf leads his trusted peers to the woods and proclaims that he’s not going in there with “you people”. He YP’d them! His own crew!
“It is no use arguing. I have, as I told you, some pressing business away south; and I am already late through bothering with you people. We may meet again before all is over, and then again of course we may not.”
Who called this mission to order? Gandalf. And he’s ditching the crew. Sup with that? What about wolves? What about trolls or goblins? He took the wicked swords AND the horse from bear-man and made everyone else return their ponies, and now he wants them all to march into a deep dark forest and maybe he’ll see them on the other side. Can they walk around? Yeah, but its hundreds of miles, Gandalf says. Hmmm, how does that phrase go, again? “F*** you. No smiley.” I think that’s it.
By the way, just remembered that I had two goldfish called Bilbo and Baggins when I was a kid. Over the years, however, their names evolved into, er, Fish 1 and Fish 2. There’s another example of me not giving Tolkein due reverence. Fish 1 lived longest but then developed some kind of weird growth and got all listless. Those were dark days.
Julie Bindel is easy to admire – a courageous, dogged fighter for women’s rights and relentless campaigner against men who abuse women – but rather hard to like. The Guardian has been running a series of columns recently which describe the things its respective authors have changed their mind over during the 2000s. Bindel’s contribution reveals that she, over the last decade, has learned that it’s possible to be friends with men. It’s really rather shocking that this realisation has come so late, and while I’m glad for her, it’s hard not to wonder if the problem is not that, as she suggests, men are intimidated by her sexual politics, but rather that she’s not a very friendly person. Towards the end of the article she reveals that she’s even had a male friend over for dinner, as if this represents incredible progress. It’s a world-view I don’t recognise.
As often happens, she gets a bit of a kicking in the comments, which probably just confirms her distrustful attitude towards men. Nevertheless, the following comment made me laugh out loud.
This is quite sweet – a pictorial guide to avoiding camera loss. Really not a bad idea at all. Thinking back, given the many things I’ve mislaid over the years, I don’t think I’ve lost a camera yet. Give it time.
For reasons I don’t understand, I just seem to be getting an enormous amount of spam comments at the moment – it’s really annoying. If I snap and turn on the comment verification thing soon you’ll have to forgive me. In the meantime, some – some – of the spam is charming enough to let slip through the net.
Perhaps I’m softening in my old age – not sure I’d have spent much time watching youtube videos of cute kids a few years ago – but this is just lovely. The actor Brian Cox coaches a 30 month year old toddler to recite Shakespeare. Extremely sweet.
Anyone else falling rapidly in love with French designer and all-round-genius Philippe Starck, courtesy of the BBC’s ‘Design for Life’ programme? I am – it’s great value TV (essentially The Apprentice for designers) and I think Starck is the most charming man in the world. He is a force of nature; imitating a klaxon when he enters a room, milking his heavy French accent for all it is worth, and coming up with adorably eccentric soubriquets left right and centre (describing evolution, he declares that “to start weez, we wazz bacteria! Zen feesh. After, we become frog! It ees not exactly ze real story. But eet’s close!”).
Best of all is the way he fires people. No agressive finger jabbing, no scorn. Instead he merely saunters over, shrugs apologetically, and gently delivers two warm, deadly kisses, one to each cheek. Mwa Mwa. You’re fired.