basita

preoccupata

intensa

]]> http://littlelondonobservationist.wordpress.com/2009/11/21/listen-to-a-londoner-lucy-mcdonald/ Sat, 21 Nov 2009 08:33:34 +0000 littlelondonobservationist http://littlelondonobservationist.wordpress.com/2009/11/21/listen-to-a-londoner-lucy-mcdonald/

Listen to a Londoner. This is a weekly post where people who live (or have lived for a while) in London answer a few questions about the Big Smoke. If you fit the bill and want to be interviewed, give me a shout at littlelondonobservationist@hotmail.co.uk. Always looking for new victims volunteers….

Lucy McDonald, 25
(Usually, it’s 10 questions, but Lucy likes questions, so she answered 30. Bonus.)

Lucy is from the most rural county in England but her soul is a Londoner. She likes tea, merry-go-rounds, walking along the Thames, lists, the radio, food and getting dressed several times a day. She works as an admin monkey at a language school in Bloomsbury.

LLO: How long have you lived in London?
LM: I accidentally say I’ve lived here for five years, despite the fact a year of that was spent in Mexico. Actually I similarly used to answer ‘?Donde vives?’ in Mexico with ‘Londres’ for an irrationally long number of months. I’ve known I wanted to live here since I was eleven.

LLO: Where are you from originally?
LM: The shire, the middle of nowhere, where England meets Wales, the green and pleasant and beautiful land, the most rural county in England – Herefordshire.

LLO: Best thing about London?
LM: It’s still possible for me to get excited about the little things – being able to jump on the tube and end up in a place that looks and feels completely different to the one I’m in now, popping and seeing the Houses of Parliament and all the sites tourists come to see. The many and glorious parks, the way people dress, the interests people have – a general and indescribable Londonness that is strongest I think at Sunday brunch time, when Saturday revellers are in recovering in cafes, wandering the streets and dressed in their most interesting togs.

LLO: Worst thing about London?
LM: Being ground down by the insularity and commuting. The fact that travelling from one side to another – east to west, north to south – seems like an epic challenge worthy of Tolkein. Light pollution and other grubbiness. The 25 bus, expense, Victoria Coach Station. Being from elsewhere in England, it can be irritating that people from the South East don’t believe in any realistic sense that the rest of the country exists. Most bad things in London are the same in the big metropolitan cities and the mindset that puts you in. The best-worst thing about it, London is a difficult place to leave.

LLO: North, south, east or west?
LM: East. No question. 

LLO: Best restaurant?
LM: Moro.

LLO: Best shop?
LM: Atlantis Art Materials, Hanbury Street. I like to peer in the windows of the rope shop and the umbrella shop in Bloomsbury, and Blade Rubber Stamps.

LLO: Best place to escape the city?
LM: Hampstead Heath or the top of Senate House Library, depending if you need glorious openness or protective dusty rooms and books.

LLO: 2012 Olympics – stay or go?
LM: I don’t know and can’t decide. Is that significant?

LLO: How do you spend your time on the tube?
LM: Reading. If I can find another participant I like playing tube chicken, empty tube platforms allowing.

LLO: Most random thing you’ve seen in London.
LM: Somebody stopping to help a stranger – tee hee – gallows humour.

LLO: Best place to catch a gig?
LM: The Union Chapel, Islington

LLO: Best local band?
LM: The Correspondents

LLO: Favourite book, song or film about London?
LM: 1599 by James Shapiro. 

LLO: Favourite London discovery?
LM: Signing up to go and see free recordings of radio and TV programmes, Sam Smiths Pubs and the many retro nights.

LLO: Best place to spend a Sunday afternoon?
LM: Ah, I’m too predictable – Brick Lane.

LLO: Best museum or gallery?
LM: Tate Modern during the week, otherwise The Museum of Childhood. It’s not my favourite, but if you haven’t been you should go to The John Soane Museum. I like to sit in the big leather chairs in the National Gallery to read.

LLO: Favourite market?
LM: Predictability reigns, Brick Lane Sunday – the Upmarket, Spitalfields and everyone along the edge of the lane.

LLO: Give us a funny London story.
LM: I’ll cheat and copy and paste from previous writing –
Waiting on the platform at Leicester Square for the train to come, and a drunken suit, pink shirt, grabs my hand and begins to twirl me around the platform, asks what my dance would be, if I could dance any, here on the platform, between the yellow line and the commuters and the couples. I decline. He presses my hand to his heart and asks my name. I guess his instead. It’s not Charles and it’s not Jim. He takes my hand, asks my name, asks if I’ve seen the most recent exhibition at the British Museum. He tells me the last exhibition was a disappointment. Not enough artefacts. Central London has a different class of drunk.

LLO: Most influential Londoner?
LM: Can’t think of one person.

LLO: Best London magazine, newspaper or website?
LM: C’mon – the national British media is solely a London set of magazines and newspapers – so the Observer on Sunday.

LLO: If you were to dress up as one of the tube station names for a costume party, which would you be?
LM: High Barnet. My hair loves a good backcomb.

LLO: Best time of year in London?
LM: Impossible question – Autumn on Hampstead Heath, Christmas in Covent Garden, Summer in Russell Square. 

LLO: Best place for a first date?
LM: Dates? In London? Don’t people just get drunk and fall on each other inappropriately?

LLO: First place to take a visitor?
LM: To St Pauls, across the wobbly bridge, to South bank and along to the London Eye. Or a trip to The Globe.

LLO: Favourite place to be on a Saturday night?
LM: The George Tavern, Commercial Road. And as far as possible from Leicester Square.

LLO: Best and worst things about tourists?
LM: Worst thing – they get in the way and behave as if the place you live has been placed there for their own enjoyment, loud voices, big bags and not getting out of the way on the tube. Best thing – they talk loudly and think they can’t be understood so always good for an eavesdrop.

LLO: Boris is…
LM: …a muppet.

LLO: What would you change about the city if you had the power to do so?
LM: Not sure – I want to say make it smaller and cleaner and cheaper, but it wouldn’t be London anymore. I would take the violence out of it, and (sorry for the nod to Boris) I do hate the bendy buses.

LLO: Most interesting recent news story.
LM: Anything told to me by John Humphrys as I drink my first cup of tea in the morning.

 Thanks Lucy!

You can hear it can’t you? Clean dark medieval sound that once was lost and is coming back in the souls and expression of the Eleventh Sun. You can feel it can’t you; ripping inside of you telling you that you need more of this shaded signal. You can see it can’t you? The darkness shows you the truth; that the light hides when darkness comes; telling you that there will be more to come, more to hear, more to see.

We are proud to present the newest forthcoming release of the Eleventh Sun ‘Everybody Bleeds the Same EP’. This one is something new and innovative yet still keeping the vibe. DARK! …..COMING THIS DECEMBER

The hottest ticket in town!!! ‘The Spirit Of London Awards’

e allora tutti zitti con i propri dolori
che un giorno dopo l’altro nascono gli amori
dai che sennò ti distrai
però ti bacerei
e dai dai dai sbrighiamoci che c’è la partita
a me non interessa ho tanti guai nella mia vita
ah sì? E come ti posso aiutare?
Io provo a batterti un Ciak.
Così facciamo finta di essere da un’altra parte
Viaggiare, conquistare, fare scopa con la morte,
sapere la verità…
fregare la realtà.
Puoi fare il papa, il pazzo, il furbo, l’assassino
cercare di far ridere alle 7 del mattino
cacciare i guai dalla testa
prima dell’ultimo ciak.
Spengono le luci adesso è ora di dormire
son stanco al punto sogno di non sognare
magari di non russare
dopo che battono il ciak 

Siamo figli di teste e corpi in un tram che ha avuto il compito di addottarci in una nuova realtà. Una realtà diversa per ogni testa che ci governa, per ogni emozione che ci tradisce. Una realtà trafitta dal nostro squallido modo di restare, sanguinante, e che cerchiamo con le ferite del nostro sentire di risanare. Nell’accento del nostro scivolo, nella pulsazione dei nervi, nella frenesia dell’alfabetizzazione sentimentale non si fa che prendere un taxi per una nuova sistemazione rurale acquerellata e ultrapiatta. Un paradiso preparato per noi e da noi, e non importa quanto sia mediocre, e stupido, e scadente, e sentimentale, e comico, e falso, e immorale. L’importante è partire, partire così a lungo… per lasciarci dietro delusione, risentimento, ipocrisia per inerzia, un oscuro vuoto dove magari capita di tenerci per mano o di nasconderci di volerlo fare.

A positive endorsment of open air preaching.

I

“Noite de Inverno”

Pessoas apontam.
Árvores passam.
Folhas no chão.
Calçada imperfeita.
Chuva nos candeeiros.
Sombras no alcatrão.
Carros parados.
Ruas vazias.
Paredes de pinturas.
Pinturas de parede.
Frio nos bolsos.
Casaco velho.
Ferrugem na grade.
Cabelo molhado.
Correria nocturna.
Murmúrios.
Tons escuros.
Abraço sujo.
Tilintar das chaves.
Só vejo dois olhos.
Mãos no vidro, embaciado.
Água no vidro, escorrendo.
Fendas.
Luzes.
Pequenas luzes.
Rio preto.
Beco escuro.
Neblina.
Um beijo.
Só um beijo.

Boris

I like it. It is comfortable and looks good in my living room with the new paint scheme.  (Photo pilfered from the store’s web page.)  When they delivered it on Thursday, I had the dogs upstairs to keep them out of the way.  The delivery guys were here for all total 15 minutes, and when they left, I let the dogs back downstairs.  Cosmo wanted “out” so he could kill the dead shrubs just a little bit more.  When he came back in, he drank half a bowl of water in his usual sloppy way.  Slurp, slurp, drip, slobber.  I went into the living room and watched in disbelief as Cosmo, all sloppy and wet faced, walked over and rubbed his face down the front of the couch.

I love my dogs, I love my dogs, I love my dogs …

Last night, Clover whinged as she got up off the floor.  When I called her over to me, I gave her a good rub down/massage to see if I could tell what was bothering her.  She seems to be favoring her left shoulder, and for the life of me I can’t imagine why.  Did she fall down the stairs when I wasn’t looking? or maybe Cosmo body slammed her just a little bit too hard when they were playing?  Whatever the cause, she is sore and miserable, and very very needy at the moment.

I spoke to the vet on the phone, who reminded me that she’s 8 years old and she might have a touch of arthritis.  All of a sudden, just like that?  At the vet’s direction, I gave Clover 325 mg of buffered aspirin.  Hopefully, this will take the edge off for her, because as it is right now, she won’t go up or down the stairs and is sound asleep on the floor in the TV room upstairs.  If she thinks I am going to carry her down the stairs … she’s got another think coming!  The vet said she would call me tomorrow to check on Clover, and if she’s not better, then I’ll be bringing her in for a visit on Monday.  Crap.  Why do I see my big screen HD tv flying out the window, and in its place a well vetted Labrador Retriever with MRIs and x-rays in its stead?  Crap.

I was up and out of the house by 8:00 am this morning.  I got all of my Thanksgiving food shopping done, and was home by 11:00 am.  I love Wegmans!  They have a great de-boned honey brined turkey breast that is wonderful, so in the basket it went with a bunch of vegetables and other necessities.  It wasn’t until I got home and put everything away that I realized that Thanksgiving is the week AFTER next, not this coming Thursday.  Crap.  The turkey breast will be ok in the freezer for a few days, but I guess I will have to eat the pumpkin pie right away.  I’m SURE it won’t stay fresh until Thanksgiving.

I see the neurologist again on the 23rd of November.  I’m not wobbling as much as I was, but I can’t seem to rid myself of some other symptoms.  The latest?  My tongue feels numb around the edges, I have the shakes and tremors from time-to-time, and the vertigo is back.  I’m pretty sure I’ll be seeing Boris again before Christmas! Check in with me next week, I’ll undoubtedly have something new to report, because as you know, You Just Can’t Make This Crap Up!

Oh, yeah, almost forgot.  Its still raining.

There are times when you wonder just what idiots are thinking.

It was blowing gales of up to 85mph yesterday, it was dropping around a quarter of the months rainfall in about 6 hours, but people still drive around without their headlights on! I was nearly written off by one bloody idiot who thought that I could see him approaching with no lights on where everyone else were using fog lights just to see the end of their bonnet….

He was a lorry driver!

So at a time when a professional driver of  a  large, dark, lorry has trouble seeing the cars in front you would think he would be professional and expereinced enough to realise that the spray thrown up by such a horrific downpour might make him invisible to see as well; while he was doing around 50 in a 40 zone; while traffic might be joining from  the slip road. When this driver followed me to a roundabout and got out of his truck in front of a police officer to remonstrate, the police officer got his notebook out to write down my side of the story. He put it straight back away when I told him that the lorry did not even have any lights on when he pulledup to talk to them (which they noted), let alone driving!

They sent me on my way and had a quiet word with him.

It makes you wonder though. These professional drivers with their arctic lorry; driving up and down our roads every day and some of them seem to think they own the road we all drive on.  For example; back in July, in the Highlands of Scotland a professional HGV caused death by dangerous driving because he failed to secure 26 tonnes of timber correctly… This is of course the Highlands with lots of gradients, sharp turns and various animals wandering free.

Last month in Wales a professional lorry driver lost his attention while driving, swerved to avoid a stationary car in the  middle of the road and hit a moving car head-on, killing the driver. The professional lorry driver “did not  realise” that the slippery road surface warning, after the local council re-surfaced the  road, “extended beyond the warning sign”. The lorry trailer itself was a death-trap with faulty brakes and missing wheel studs, wondering if the surface had not just been re-done, then would there have been any difference in the result?

and finally, back in May a lorry went  over a speed hump in London and its door flew open nearly taking London Mayor Boris Johnson out as he cycled around the city on a “fact-finding” mission. The door was not properly secured and we nearly lost our London Mayor over it (okay… so some of you think thats a good thing).

Guess what though. These “professional” drivers got a maximum £500 fine and 8 points. Not even a disqualification. I bet if a train driver; a professional driver; left a door open, or lost concentration and nearly hit another train, that they would not have a job, let alone a train driving licence left in their hand?

Professional Drivers indeed.

*****

In other news:

 Department for Transport (DfT) (“DafT”) is about to embark on a campaign to reduce CO2 emissions. They have embarked on the first step by taking over National Express East Coast Trains (now run by DfT owned “Directly Operated Trains”) lets hope they reduce fares to encourage train travel.

In this “equal opportunity” world, it obviously does not extend to car insurance. You can understand that young drivers, fresh out of driving school, are chargedmore as they have less experience, but MoneySupermarket.com have found that 18 year old males are likely to pay £2000 for car insurance (for a car unspecified), whereas a girl would pay around half that (on the same car). Ergo, we should sack all the male lorry drivers and employ women, driving pink tractor units covered in pictures of hunky men to keep them satisfied on the road…..

I am getting worked up about lorry drivers now…. time for a bottle of water.!

The Vietnamese restaurants along Kingsland Road are legendary. And somehow, the competition means they all – at least of the seven or so I have tried – are excellent and honestly priced. Usually, for big groups, my choice would be Tay Do or its sister restaurant across the road (both have big, dead lobsters on the walls). 

Until the recession began, we had a Vietnamese-Aussie friend who would order for us and all we had to do was sit down, watch her in action and then wait for the most delectable dishes to arrive – green papaya salad, steamed fish with ginger, pork chops, chilli salt squid and something called shaker beef, which is small cubes of chewy beef, marinated in some delicious sauce, then quickly cooked rare and served with a bowl of salt and lemon slices. God, I’m getting hungry just thinking about it and it’s only 11am.

Anyway, in her absence we muddle through, but the magic has gone. And then, just recently I rediscovered Loong Kee, which I used to go to years ago. It’s right up the quiet end of Kingsland Road and just next door to the lovely Geffrye Museum (read about my recent visit here).

Loong Kee’s speciality is banh cuon, or steamed rice flour rolls, which arrive stuffed with either a beef or prawn filling and have a sweet sauce to pour over them. This is a slightly calmer restaurant, and it’s particularly nice on Sunday afternoons when you see families having long lunches and dishes of all sorts of seafood and meat arriving. Everything comes with lots of fresh coriander and chilli and they also serve freshly squeezed juices.

Actually, sorry, but I’m going to interrupt this blog to go there for an early lunch. Life is short, the the sun is shining and my belly is rumbling. To be continued.

Right, back now. That was well worth the walk. Vermicelli noodles with beef and lemongrass and a fresh juice. I also stopped by Oxfam (for more on this wonderful place, read here) and found three new books – Lucky by Alice Sebold, Caravan Thieves by Gerard Woodward and In My Skin by Kate Jennings, a Melbourne writer – it’s a book about her experience of working as a prostitute to support a heroin habit and it’s brilliant, I read it before but lent it to someone and never got it back, usual story, so now I’ve got another copy. Sounds depressing and somewhat tired, but isn’t. Which reminds me, I am thinking up a manifesto for book buying, which is an minefield these days.

 I also noted a few things on my walk:

Winter is here, but not in a bad way. The trees are bare and the ground is covered with leaves, dogs are wearing little coats and I may have finally discovered the perfect black faux fur jacket number 3 (I gave my first one to a friend when in my cups and then left its replacement on a bus).

Hidden Art is on December 5-6, a chance to sniff around the many artists’ studios that are dotted around the East End & do some Christmas shopping in a relaxed environment rather than the pit of hell that is Oxford Street in December.

Columbia Road is opening its shops late on Wednesday nights in December. 

And my local bus stop has disappeared. Just gone. Where there was a shelter with a display telling you when the next bus was due there is now just pavement. Bastards. Just in time for winter, too. I blame Boris.

Plus, the 38 bendy buses, where you could get on right at the back, are getting ditched this weekend. Back to double deckers. So no more of that drama of the bus stopping and about twenty transport cops getting on and busting fare dodgers. It was always rather exciting, except when you were unlucky enough to be next to the yellow validator thing and half the bus lunged towards it to zap their Oyster and you nearly got crushed by the stampede, of course.  See this article in The Londonist for details. 

Loong Kee, 134 Kingsland Road Tel: 020 7729 8344

Today Kramnik  was able to win his game multiple times do to inaccurate play on both his and Ponomariov’s part.  I am in shock that the same Kramnik that missed 19.Qxh7+ played such a precise endgame.  Thanks to Ponomariov, Kramnik was able to pull ahead of Anand and is now in first place all by himself.

[Event "Tal Memorial"]
[Site "0:10:33-0:08:33"]
[Date "2009.11.11"]
[EventDate "?"]
[Round "6"]
[Result "1-0"]
[White "V Kramnik"]
[Black "R Ponomariov"]
[ECO "D38"]
[WhiteElo "?"]
[BlackElo "?"]

1.d4 e6{Nots by Chris Torres} 2.c4 Nf6 3.Nf3 d5 4.Nc3 Bb4 5.Bg5 Nbd7 6.cxd5 exd5 7.e3 c5 8.dxc5{Kramnik elects not to develop his bishop to e2,d3 or b5 and instead plays a sharp variation that leaves his King in the middle of the board.} Qa5 9.Rc1 Ne4 10.Qxd5 Nxc3 11.bxc3 Bxc3+ 12.Kd1 O-O 13.Bc4 Nf6 14.Bxf6 Bxf6 15.Ke2 b5{I think this is a mistake. Perhaps Ponomariov could have played: 15…Be6 16.Qe4 Rae8 17.Rhd1 Bh3 18.Qxb7 Bxg2 19.Qd7 Rb8 20.Bb3 Rbd8 21.Qa4 Qc7 22.Rxd8 Rxd8 with equal chances} 16.c6 Ba6 17.Qf5 Qa3{This is a serious mistake. Ponomariov shpould have played:17…Bb2 18.Rc2 g6 19.Qc5 Ba3 20.Qg5 Be7 21.Qe5 Bd6 and the players are dead even.}  18.Bd3 Rfd8 19.c7{I can’t beleive Kramnik missed 19.Qxh7+ Kf8 20.c7Qxa2 21.Kf1. Its is always very interesting to see the mind of a chess genius play tricks on itself.} Qxa2+ 20.Nd2 Rxd3{Ponomariov is right back in the game thanks to Kramnik’s mistake on move 19.} 21.Qxd3 b4 22.Kf3 Bb7+{This is not accurate. Ponomariov should have played 22…Qa5 23.Qd6 Bb7 24.Ke2 Ba6 25.Ke1 Rc8 26.f3 Be5} 23.Kg3 h5 24.h3{f4 would be better. Play could continue 24…Rc8 25.Rhd1 Qe6 26.Rhd1 Bc6 27.Qc4 Rxc7 28.Qxb4 Qg4 with Kramnik clearly superior.} Qa5 25.f4 Rc8 26.Nc4 Qa6 27.Ne5 Qxd3 28.Nxd3 Bc3 29.Rhd1 a5 30.Nc5 Rxc7 31.Na4 Be4 32.Rd6{Kramnik makes a huge mistake. Luckily Ponomariov does not punish him with 32…Bc2! 33.Nxc3 Rxc3 34.Rb6 Rc4 35.Rb8 Kh7 36.Rb5 a4 37.Rxb4 Rxb4 38.Rxc2 a3 39.Ra2 Rb3 40.e5 Rxe3 41.Kf4 Rb3 42.Ke5 Kh6 43.h4 g6 44.fxg6 Kxg6 45.Kd4 Kf6 46.Kc4 Re3} Kh7{Missed the opportunity for 32…Bc2! see previous note} 33.Ra6 h4+ 34.Kh2 Rd7 35.Nc5 Re7 36.Rxa5 Bd2 37.Rc4 f5{This is a horrible mistake. It must be Kramnik’s lucky day! Play should have continued with 37…b3 38.Nxb3 Bxa5 39.Nxa5 Re6 40.Rd4 f5.} 38.Nxe4 fxe4 39.Rh5+ Kg6 40.Rg5+ Kf6 41.Rc6+ Kf7 42.Rf5+ Kg8 43.g4 Re8 44.Re5 Rb8 45.g5 Kh7 46.Re7 Bxe3 47.Rh6+ Kg8 48.Rg6 Bd4 49.Rge6 Kh7{It really is Kramnik’s lucky day. Ponomariov should have played 49…Bc5 and now Kramnik will punish him.} 50.f5 Bc5 51.Re8 Rxe8 52.Rxe8 b3 53.Kg2 Be3 54.Rxe4{The moves that follow are beautiful to watch. Even god using Deep Rybka would not have had a chance. I love the final position. Zugzwang anyone?}  Bxg5 55.Rb4 g6 56.Rb7+ Kh6 57.fxg6 Kxg6 58.Kf3 Bd2 59.Kg4 Be1 60.Rxb3 Bg3 61.Rf3 Be1 62.Re3 Bf2 63.Re6+ Kf7 64.Kf5 Bg3 65.Re4 Bf2 66.Kg5 Bg3 67.Re2 Kg7 68.Re7+ Kf8 69.Kf6 Bf2 70.Re6 Bg3 71.Kg6 Bh2 72.Re4 Bg3 73.Kf6 Bf2 74.Kg6 Bg3 75.Re2 Bd6 76.Kg5 Bg3 77.Kf6 Bf4 78.Re4 Bd6 79.Rd4 Bc7 80.Kg6 Bg3 81.Re4  1-0

(Table below aquired from http://www.chess.co.uk/twic/chessnews/events/tal-memorial-2009)

At last count, I have in my possession somewhere in the neighborhood of 20 to 25 Boris releases. They’re currently two volumes deep into a set of three 7″ records called Japanese Heavy Rock Hits. So far, the results are strange, even by Boris standards. The songs are very, for lack of a better term, Japanese. Three of the four songs released so far are almost kitschy in their over-the-top quasi-pop. And, to further the Americans-laughing-at-Japanese-people aesthetic, they’ve printed the translated lyrics on the sleeves in very broken English. Here are the ones from “H.M.A. (Heavy Metal Addict)”

Ah, that heavy metal girl is lookin’ at me,
With one hundred eyes!
Totally covered up in one hundred wristbands!
Here’s your hair, a roomful of long hair and long hair.

Ah, fully spiked maloiks, party any more!
Metallic riff guy in front of me,
I’ll heavy-metal you!

Too much head bangin’
Too tight, KILL KILLER KILLEST
Too skinny, KILL KILLER KILLEST
Your spandex pants, KILL KILLER KILLEST

Too many sparkles,
Spark sparkling sparkles
Metallic you!
Ah, ah, ah, ah

Woo…so-so-tic?
Woo…so-so-tation?
Woo…so-so-traction?
Waitin’ for you,
Oh sure,
Waitin’

This is the YouTube commercial-thing they released for Volume 1:

And this is the most recent one for Volume 2:

And, just because it’s maybe the best Melvins song ever, this is where Boris got their name:

Listen to a Londoner. This is a weekly post where people who live (or have lived for a while) in London answer a few questions about the Big Smoke. If you fit the bill and want to be interviewed, give me a shout at littlelondonobservationist@hotmail.co.uk. Always looking for new victims volunteers….

Dave Sadd, 23

Dave is currently a student in his 2nd year at Cardiff University, studying Journalism, Film and Media.
He enjoys films, music, new media and fine wine.

LLO: How long have you lived in London?
DS: Well, I don’t live in London anymore unfortunately. When I left home to come to university, my mum moved into Hertfordshire. But until then, I’d been living in London for 20 years. Long time!

LLO: Best thing about London?
DS: Feeling like you’re part of something massive.

LLO: Best shop?
DS: I’m a bit of a media fanatic, so HMV on Oxford Street does it for me.

LLO: Best place to catch a gig?
DS: Before it closed, I was a big, big, big fan of The Mean Fiddler. These days…Brixton Academy.

LLO: Best local band?
DS: Am I allowed to say The Kinks?

LLO: Best place to escape the city?
DS: I always lived on the outskirts, so it was never a big thing to escape – I spent a lot of time in Herts.

LLO: 2012 Olympics – stay or go?
DS: I honestly couldn’t care less about the 2012 Olympics. I’m apathetic all the way.

LLO: How do you spend your time on the tube?
DS: I listen to music and worry about getting lost, so spend a lot of time looking at the maps and counting how many stops there are until I need to get off. This makes it sound like I really don’t enjoy the tube, but I do!

LLO: Favourite book, song or film about London?
DS: My favourite film about London would have to be Dirty Pretty Things. It’s a wonderful look at how London is for immigrants.

LLO: Most interesting recent news story?
DS: This is actually my favourite news story of the past week in general – Boris helping a girl from thugs. Whilst on a bicycle. He used the word ‘oiks’! Who woulda thunk that a politician would be a decent human being too?! I loved it.

Thanks Dave!

Nothing special here, just got the idea of doing a photo of my own reflections in the little, mirrored cabinet over the sink in the bathroom . It seams that most of my ideas are born in that room…

Earlier this week Boris Johnson came to the rescue of film director Franny Armstrong when a bunch of hoodlums set upon her. Although she’s not a Tory and actually voted for Ken Livingstone at the last mayoral election, Armstrong said: “If you find yourself down a dark alleyway and in trouble I think Boris would be more use than Ken”.

Is this true? Does Boris really trump Ken when it comes to fighting prowess? Here is a very serious assessment of their differing capabilities…

BORIS ‘BRUISER’ JOHNSON

HEIGHT: 5 feet 10 inches.

COMBAT EXPERIENCE: Trained in basic thuggery at the ’Bullingdon Club’. Thought to be a specialist in smashing plates, throwing pot plants through windows, and then paying for the damage. 8/10

ALLIES ON THE BATTLEFIELD: His mate Darius Guppy knows some gentlemen who will break legs for cash. Boris is happy to go along with such schemes. 6/10

BRUTE STRENGTH: Look at him, he’s a sizeable fellow. Plus his constant cycling and history of rumbustious extramarital affairs suggest considerable energy. 8/10  

SECRET MANOEUVER: ‘The BoJo Piffle’. Boris starts waffling on about Ancient Rome and drops in a few witticisms whilst waving his arms around manically. Potentially amusing, but rarely deadly. 3/10

LOW CUNNING: Pretending to be a buffoon but actually getting himself elected as London Mayor and perhaps establishing himself as a rival to fellow Old Etonian David Cameron. 9/10

OFFENSIVENESS: Has managed to offend cities such as Liverpool and Portsmouth. Has said ridiculous things about gay marriage. During his editorship of The Spectator he was happy to allow pretty racist articles to be printed. His own ‘humourous’ description of African “watermelon smiles” and “piccaninnies” also got him in a spot of bother during the mayoral campaign. 9/10

OVERALL ‘KO’ ABILITY: 7/10-ish

KEN ‘LEFT HOOK’ LIVINGSTONE

HEIGHT: I can’t find a reference to Ken’s height on the intergoogles, but considering his love of giving planning permission to tall buildings let’s say somewhere around 1,020 feet.

COMBAT EXPERIENCE: As a prominent anti-war figure it would be against Ken’s principles to involve himself in violence, although he can get very cross indeed during heated arguments with Evening Standard hacks. 2/10

ALLIES ON THE BATTLEFIELD: Very chummy with former general Hugo Chavez. Ken’s hosting of Sinn Fein leader Gerry Adams in the 1980s and suicide bombing justifier Yusuf al-Qaradawi in 2004 means he has good contacts with people not totally averse to physical force tactics. 9/10

BRUTE STRENGTH: Ken doesn’t do too well here, but his love of whisky drinking could well unleash some pent-up aggression at the required moment. 5/10

SECRET MANOEUVER: ‘The Screaming Newt of Doom’. Ken revs up his voice to produce an ear-splitting nasal whine so powerful that it can destroy Frank Dobson’s mayoral hopes and really irritate Prime Ministers. 10/10

LOW CUNNING: Getting cheap oil from Venezuela for London buses whilst they get, um, consultancy or something wishywashy like that in return. 7/10

OFFENSIVENESS: Telling a Jewish journalist that he was like a concentration camp guard and then refusing to apologise was fairly rude. His cosying up to Islamists and views on Israel have certainly not endeared him to the Jewish community. Saying things about the British treatment of the Irish being worse than Hitler’s treatement of the Jews made him seem like a twit in just about everybody’s eyes. 9/10

OVERALL  ’KO’ ABILITY: 7/10-ish

Ergo, Ms Armstrong is wrong to so readily dismiss Ken’s fighting skills.

Although the former mayor may not look up to much, the people on Ken’s Christmas card list could prove very valuable as allies in a combat situation, and the secret manoeuver he keeps hidden up his sleeve can be devastating.

Admittedly Boris is better in a straightforward punch-up, but a holistic assessment suggests that the former and the present London mayors are pretty evenly matched.

“Cats come and go without ever leaving.” — Martha Curtis

And yet there’s a space here where he once was.

Sînt unii cărora umorul din filmele lui Woody Allen li se pare sec. Asta pentru că mintea lor e seacă. Dacă ar fi doar un pic mai inteligenți,  ar muri de rîs la filmele lui.

Și cu toate astea, Woody Allen e atît de predictibil. Mă uit la filmele lui și mi se pare că știu dinainte ce o să aud. Asta pentru că discursul intelectualului cinic și pesimist din filmele lui Woody Allen se învîrte întruna în jurul aceluiași subiect (Dumnezeu nu există-viața n-are sens-Freud a fost cel mai inteligent om care a trăit vreodată), făcînd ca ceea ce, la Cioran de exemplu, pentru că tot îl pomeneam postul trecut, era  obsesia absolută, anume frica de moarte, să fie la el un simplu clișeu.

Și cu toate astea, m-am amuzat teribil la ultimul lui film. Whatever works te face să te lingi pe degete la fiecare replică, atît e de bun. Desigur, Woody nu pierde nici de data asta ocazia să ia în balon creștinismul, făcînd ca un cuplu de țărani credincioși să ajungă la divorț iar mai departe el să ajungă homosexual iar ea să practice menage a trois. Dar am observat la el o oarecare..înmuiere, aș putea s-o numesc, căci scenariul îl face pe  Boris, un moșneag genial supărat pe lume, eroul principal, să poarte pantofii eroului negativ. Sau cel puțin așa mi s-a părut mie.

M-am simțit bine cînd am văzut în film, redată aproape ad literam, o idee care m-a făcut pe mine să scriu postul ăsta ( Cea mai mare minune dintre toate ) probabil înainte să scrie Woody Allen scenariul pentru Whatever works. Cum să nu mi se pară predictibil, atunci?

PS: Îmi cer scuze față de toți cei cărora nu le plac filmele lui Woody Allen.

There are two (or more) bands named “Boris.” J. F. Sebastian points us toward this vid from the Japanese one.

Flazzummed by J. F. Sebastian.

Boris Johnson, Mayor of London, rarely gets in the news for his political activities. Whether it’s by offending the entire population of Liverpool or narrowly avoiding being crushed by a Lorry, Boris’ politics often get swept under the carpet for these more media friendly stories.

This time Boris has outdone himself, the Conservative Mayor has turned vigilante and rescued a frightened member of the public from a gang of violent youths. Franny Armstrong was walking through the borough of Camden when she was approached by three youths. At first Franny said “it was quite funny, because they were only about 12. Then I saw that one of them had an iron bar in her hand. It was more than a metre long. It was as big as her.”

Franny noticed Boris cycling towards her and called out for help, upon noticing that they were up against the mighty Mayor of London the children fled immediately (most likely crying for their mothers, or even more likely moving onto their next victim). The story doesn’t end here, not content with merely saving the frightened Ms Armstrong, Boris then cycled after the young rapscallions on his infamous bicycle. Clutching the iron rod that the children had dropped, Boris pedalled towards them shouting “Oiks, oiks.” (Etonion banter for working class scum).

Boris returned to the scene moments later to comfort the rather shaken Ms Armstrong, who admitted to the world’s media that she had voted for Ken Livingstone and did not agree with Johnson’s politics. Armstrong is in the fact the director of independent film The Age of Stupid and founder of the 10:10 campaign which encourages local businesses to cut 10% of carbon emissions by 2010.

On her Twitter feed Armstrong claimed that she asked Boris to join the 10:10 scheme and that he agreed. She also described her attackers as ‘Feral Kids’ and praised the Mayor’s intervention.

Boris wrote to Franny via Twitter and said he was pleased to have met her, but now he finds himself in the uneasy position of having publicly agreed to cut his emissions by 10%. Franny sounds like a great person, really, she has directed a film aimed at opening the country’s eyes to the terror of climate change. It does the job better than those ridiculous government adverts about the “happy ending”. But honestly, I don’t recall watching any superhero movies in which Batman turned up in his Batmobile and saved a defenceless woman, only to be forced to agree to cut his carbon emissions.

Wonder Woman was never asked to switch her invisible plane to eco fuel after saving the USA from the clutches of the Nazis. I should know, I have the first season DVD box set.

I hope that Boris does cut his emissions by 10%, it may provide an example to his peers. I think he also deserves a great degree of praise for doing something which most politicians wouldn’t dream of. This may just seem like a funny story for the press’ middle pages, but Boris risked a hell of a lot in helping Ms Armstrong. Any physical contact with the hooded girls would have undoubtedly resulted in some damaging accusations flying his way, especially with an iron bar in play.

However, the sheer physical presence of the bike mounted Mayor was enough to scare the future convicts away from the scene, and this remains a perfect piece of PR for Mr Johnson.

]]> http://heershah.wordpress.com/2009/11/04/opening-up-about-andre-and-the-game-of-tennis/ Wed, 04 Nov 2009 15:24:12 +0000 heershah http://heershah.wordpress.com/2009/11/04/opening-up-about-andre-and-the-game-of-tennis/

So here I am. Finally getting down to writing my first blog after eons of procrastinating. But now I have made a promise to myself that I will be blogging once a week on different and varied topics in which I would like to chime my two cents in. And it is but obvious that my very first blog should be about my first love in life: the game of tennis.

I was shocked, to say the least, when I read excerpts from Andre Agassi’s forthcoming biography called “Open”. Right off the bat, I must admit that I have been a huge Andre Agassi fan all my life and for me he was, after Boris Becker, the most charimastic player of his era. So its a given that I followed his professional and personal life as he grew from being a rebel teenager to being the grand old champion and the great ambassador of tennis.

For the uninformed, Andre admits in this memoirs that he took crystal meth for a year or so starting in 1997 while his career was crashing and his marriage to Brooke Shields was falling apart. Morevoer, he lied to the ATP when asked to justify his positive drug test.

Firstly, I simply can’t understand why Andre would want to open a can of worms after 12 long years and especially since he isn’t even in the limelight anymore. Maybe it was the need to be in the limelight again that made him do that. Only Andre and his cronies know that.

Andre has made more money than anyother tennis player of his era in endorsements and hence he is rich beyond his wildest dreams. And he could have had more money, if he wished, if he was involved in numerous charitable organizations  So its hard for me to believe that he did it to increase the sales of his book. Books needs stories and the more controversial the story, the more the book will sell. But having heard Andre in interviews, I can say for sure that Andre comes across as a fairly intelligent and reasonable bloke. So I refuse to buy the fact that he wouldn’t have thought long and hard about this controversial revelations just to pocket some more money and not think about its effects on his reputation and legacy.

The judgement on Andre’s revelations in the tennis community seems divided. While players like Navratilova and Nadal have castigated him for cheating, others like Roddick and Murray seem to have been more cautious in their reactions. I,for one, know that crystal meth is not a performance enhancer and it could only have hurt his chances on the tennis court. So he obviously didn’t gain anything from taking that drug. Maybe he was depressed about breaking up with Brooke that he slipped into a negative phase where all he was looking for was a ‘high’. Or maybe, after holding a secret for so many years, he just wanted to unburden himself and get it off his chest.

Either way, my opinion on Andre Agassi doesn’t change. I don’t believe that his revelations will change how fans perceive the current crop of players and the game of tennis as a whole. I still believe that he was the foremost ambassador of tennis in the last 20 years and he has done more for humanity that any other athlete I have known. He will  always be an idol for me but in light of what he has revealed, I must admit that now I will have major doubts about his ability to think rationally and pragmatically.

Vor Jahren, sagen wir mal 8, haben wir uns in Köln darum gerissen, einer von den vielen neuen Angestellten des aus dem Boden gestampften neuen Toyota-Teams zu werden.

Ein Flair von großer weiter Welt wehte durch unsere Phantasien, die Teststrecke, das neue Werk, Formel 1 eben.

Wir sahen uns im Geiste Boris die Hand schütteln, Katie auf die Titten glotzen und über Cora´s Klamotten lästern.

Wenn die RTL-Hubschrauber die VIP-Gäste über das Haus meiner Eltern hinweg zum Nürburgring flogen, dann dachte man noch wehmütig darüber nach, dass man den Job verpasst hatte, weil man zwar Englisch, aber zusätzlich nicht fliessend Französisch sprach.

8 Jahre waren es nur.