Feck the Recession!

I'm thinking of launching a line of "Feck the Recession!" T-shirts. Do you think they'll sell?

(1.)

(2.)

(3.)

(4.)

(5.)

Yours, skint but ready to rock,

oldblodger

Politicians are the Same All Over. They Promise to Build a Bridge Where There is No River.

Right! Enough of the trivial fluff, let's get on to some meaty chunks. Politics it is then.

I moved to Ireland over ten years ago and although there is much to love and admire about the country and its people it does have its perplexing side as well.

I spend much of my time listening to talk radio as this is how I keep up with what's happening in the outside world. Which station I listen to depends on where I am at the time as it is governed by the strength of the signal (or rather the weakness. Ireland is not exactly cutting edge when it comes to radio waves, cell phone coverage or high speed broadband).

When I'm in Galway I go for Newstalk, the best station in Ireland as far as I'm concerned as it has great presenters in Claire Byrne, Tom Dunne, Sean Moncrieff, Karen Coleman and George Hook et al. When I'm in Leitrim I choose the UK's BBC Radio 5 Live, again largely for presenters such as Victoria Derbyshire, Mayo & Kermode, Peter Allen & Anita Anand, Colin Murray etc. Humourous, opinionated, consumate professionals all.

This way I stay informed about events on both sides of the pond. Each station excels at sports reporting (sport on the radio is surprisingly entertaining) but their news coverage is my main reason for tuning in.

I've had great fun over recent months listening to revelations about the shenanigans in both Dáil Éireann and the Commons. The Credit Crunch, NAMA, WMDs, E-voting machines, bankers' bonuses and, of course, TDs' and MPs' expenses have all been given a slap.

Only yesterday Newstalk played an unexpurgated clip of Green Party backbencher Paul Gogarty's outburst during a parliamentray debate, “with all due respect, in the most unparliamentary language, fuck you, deputy Stagg, fuck you,”. Brilliant radio, and hats off to Newstalk for not bleeping.

The political scandals afflicting both Ireland and the U.K. are broadly similar yet the fallout from them is radically different in each country and I'm not entirely sure why.

In the U.K., in the wake of the MPs' expenses furore, there were several cabinet and ministerial resignations (including Michael Martin, the Speaker of the House!), and many MPs have declared their intentions to stand down at the next election, all due to the backlash from an outraged electorate.

And in Ireland? Here's a few quotes from 'emara.org', an Irish news website:

"Our poltroon politicos don’t do resignations. They do you, me and the political system but not resignations – those are for queer hawks. Voluntarily abdicating power is something for an English MP, a German politician or some other Johnny Foreigner such as the Swedish Minister for Culture who resigned after admitting she had not paid her television licence fee."

"Resignations, you see, are for people who take politics seriously, such as the Speaker of the House of Commons, Michael Martin, who resigned because of the way he handled a controversy over MPs’ spurious expenses and allowances."

"Here we have a culture of unaccountability. The politicos don’t care what people think."

So it's official - Irish politicians don't resign. Having said that, John O'Donoghue, until recently Ceann Comhairle (the equivalent of the U.K.'s Speaker of the House), did exactly that over expenses he'd claimed dating back to his time as Minister for Art, Sport and Tourism. But, boy, was it hard going, as emara points out:

"OK, so the Opposition managed to wring from him (O'Donoghue) some weasel words that were designed to sound like an apology. However, according to an Irish Examiner commentator, what we got was a self-serving and unintentionally hilarious account of how embarrassed he felt at the way his considerable costs were incurred in arrangements made on his behalf. The result, said the local scribe, was that his self-proclaimed embarrassment turned ‘the ex-Minister of Fun into a national figure of fun’."

Following months of 'will he, won't he' in the Irish media O'Donoghue finally, and very reluctantly, fell on his sword, albeit it with a very nice golden parachute and the prospect of remaining as a TD.

And that's it. One man gone.

I arrived in Ireland in the midst of several public enquiry tribunals. The Moriarty Tribunal (all the tribunals are named after the legal bods who chair them), for example, was set up in 1997 to investigate irregular payments made to politicians in respect of 'services rendered'. Now, being a bear of little brain, I don't understand the fine detail of the tribunals. What I do understand is that after twelve years this one is still ongoing and that it's going to cost the country an estimated 100 million euro, with most of this dosh going to the barristers. Nice work if you can get it.

The Mahon Tribunal into planning irregularities (payments to councillors and politicians in exchange for favourable results for planning applications - sounds very similar to the Moriarty Tribunal, doesn't it?), was also set up in 1997, is also still ongoing and has also cost a bundle.

The common thread linking these goings-on seems to be that, as far as I can make out, very few people have lost their liberty. Frank Dunlop is one. His main crimes seem to have been (a) being the guy who delivered the cash-stuffed brown envelopes and (b) getting caught. Certain other individuals have been identified as having been at least a 'bit iffy' in their dealings and some large sums of money have been taken from them but they walk the streets freely.

It's all very complicated, but what is it about the Irish psyche that allows this sort of carry-on? If you listen to Newstalk you'll hear just as much public outrage during the phone-ins as you do on Radio 5 Live, but nothing much results.

Well, Eddie Hobbs, Ireland's very own celebrity financial guru, has a theory to which I subscribe somewhat. Another emara quote:

"Eddie Hobbs suggests that the main reason disgraced Irish politicians do not resign is because we, the voters, are tacitly complicit in a ‘grey system of quasi-corruption’. We have a superfluous amount of TDs, he said, and a number of constituents which is small enough to encourage rampant clientism. ‘The farmer who hopes to get a piece of land rezoned, or the businessman in pursuit of a grant are not going to seek the head of a local TD simply because of a whiff of scandal involving expenses,’ he argued."

So there you have it. Irish voters will re-elect the bastards in the hope that their granny will get a new bathroom or that the local council will be persuaded to drop a nice bit of tarmac on their driveway.

Different strokes for different folks,
oldblodger

Ahoy There, Me Hearties!

Sorry to harp on about t.v. shows, but I'm going to anyway. The Brunette and I are nearly at the end of Season 2 of House - only three episodes to go. As you know, we love box sets, particularly those of American t.v. shows as there are so many episodes in each season, and so many seasons.

The West Wing, for example, ran for seven seasons, each containing twenty two episodes, each of sixty minutes duration. That's 7 x 22 = 154 episodes. That's 154 x 60 = 9,240 minutes, or over 6 days of entertainment. Law & Order Special Victims Unit is currently in its 11th season. That's a lot of television. Of course, this would all be meaningless if these programmes were rubbish but, love them or loathe them, you can't deny that they are high quality productions that demand a certain level of intellect from the viewer.

There's just one problem. I buy the U.K. box sets of House and they contain an extemely irritating anti-pirate advert thing that pops up on a regular basis. You know the one. A little fat red faced baldy bastard waves a branding iron about the place to a soundtrack of highly portentous 'Spooks'-style keyboards and drums before some smug-voiced git spends eternity passing on various international phone numbers that you can call in case you've bought a pirate copy 'by mistake'. Yeah, right!

In case you haven't seen it take a look below. You can now play it to your heart's content.



Annoying, innit?

I'm very tempted to pay a visit to my local street market to see if I can find a pirate copy of the House Season 3 box set. The quality won't be great but at least I can be sure that there won't be a bloody anti-pirate advert on it.   

Shiver me timbers,
oldblodger

All Time Top Ten Movie List

The Brunette and I went to the flicks last night (for my younger readers, 'flicks' = cinema). The film was one of those that you enjoy at the time but immediately forget as soon as it's over. This is a bit sad for the film makers really. All those months of writing, acting, directing, lighting, editing, producing etc just to have a philistine like me damn it with faint praise. Such is life.

It got me thinking about my favourite movies. It must be the time of year. We're approaching the butt end of 2009 and most newspapers and magazines will soon be churning out their lists of the high and low points of the past twelve months. The best and worst of everything - movies, books, cars, music, blah blah.

It sounds like easy journalism and perhaps it is. Coming up with the top ten movies of all time is straightforward enough if you take gross earnings as your criterion, but what if it's based purely on personal choice?  What would my 'all time top ten' consist of? Well, there are numerous genres for a start. Is it practicable to put a Hollywood blockbuster action movie in the same list as a small independent docudrama? Or to juggle a light and fluffy romcom, a stygian horror gorefest and an historical war epic?

I can compile a list of ten movies that I love fairly quickly but would they be my all time favourites? They might be at the time of compilation but on another day I'd probably put together a totally different alternative list depending on my mood.

Should my list only contain critically acclaimed films? Surely you jest? As much as I love Mark Kermode our taste in cinema is like chalk and Leggo. Film critics often deride movies as being 'manipulative', in that they play with your emotions, fool you into thinking something is true when it isn't or try to convince you that something fantastical can actually happen. Like this is a bad thing? This is what cinema is all about for me. I suspend my disbelief at the door in the hope that I'm going to be pleasantly surprised, so 'manipulation' features in many of my favourite films.

Perhaps films that I remember as having had some sort of an effect on me are the ones that should be on the list. Even this isn't foolproof though. I remember having a little man-weep during Steel Magnolias (the bit where Sally Field berates God for taking her daughter, Julia Roberts, from her). Lovely movie but it wouldn't be in my top ten.

Maybe my list should only include films that I've seen a number of times and would watch many more times in the future. But where would this leave Thelma and Louise? I've only seen that once, during my 'courting of the Brunette' days. We loved every second of it and it inspired us to drive across several of the southern US states (though we drew the line at the plummeting into the canyon bit). I could buy the DVD and watch it til the cows come home but I don't want to. I like my memory of it too much.

Here then, as of right this minute and in alphabetical order, is my All Time Top Ten Movie List:

• 633 Mosquito Squadron
• Alien
• Aliens
• America's Sweethearts
• Best Seller
• Carrie
• Close Encounters of the Third Kind
• Contact
• Dead On Arrival
• Die Hard 2
• Fargo
• Fight Club
• Independence Day
• Intolerable Cruelty
• Love Actually
• Memento
• Notting Hill
• O Brother, Where Art Thou?
• Planet of the Apes (the original)
• Scream
• Silent Running
• Something's Gotta Give
• Striking Distance
• Suspiria
• Terminator Two: Judgement Day
• The Bedroom Window
• The Fifth Element
• The Goodbye Girl
• The Silence of the Lambs
• The Sixth Sense
• The Usual Suspects
• Thelma and Louise
• There's Something About Mary
• This is Spinal Tap
• True Lies
• When Harry Met Sally
• Zardoz
• Zoolander
• Zulu

Okay, that's thirty nine. Seriously though, how can you have a top ten? I've already thought of another five since I typed my list. I couldn't whittle it down to ten if you threatened to cut off my gonads with a rusty hacksaw.

My worst movie list though? That's too easy. It's a list of two.

• 'Damage' starring Jeremy Irons, Juliet Binoche and Miranda Richardson. One hundred and eleven minutes of my life that I can never reclaim.
• Cruise, Kidman and Kubrick's 'Eyes Wide Shut'. Just awful. 

Both movies were about obsessive love and both were touted as containing some of the most graphic sex scenes ever filmed for mainstream cinema. Graphic, yes. Sexy, most definitely not. Rubbish, absolutely.

I see dead people,
oldblodger

"Old Blodger's Curate's Egg" Rock Show

Isn't music radio crap these days? Or is it just me? It probably is me as I don't actually listen to music on the wireless any more. But that's because the last time I listened to a music station it was crap...so perhaps it isn't me. Ergo Sic Kumquat!

I'm seriously toying with the idea of setting up my own radio programme and, other than the fact that I don't have the vaguest idea of how to go about it, I don't see why not. It would be for people like me, if such beasts exist. People who want to leave their comfort zone and see what's really out there. I'm not talking about a station dedicated to the avant garde or freeform jazz, that would be hell on earth. What I am talking about is a place where you could go to hear stuff that you don't automatically recognise.

For example, there are numerous rock stations that proudly proclaim to spin 'the best new music and classic album tracks', but you know before you tune in that what you're going to get is Kasabian's latest ditty followed by Fleetwood Mac's Don't Stop - i.e. singles that you are going to hear a million times or that you've already heard a million times. I don't want that.

My musical education largely took place in the U.K. during the late sixties and early seventies, my tutors being the 'disc jockeys' (doesn't that term seem arcane now?) on Radios One, Caroline and Luxembourg. I consider myself very fortunate to have grown up listening to such legends as John Peel (before he went industrial), Fluff Freeman, Annie Nightingale, Johnnie Walker, Tommy Vance, Whispering Bob, even the much maligned Dave Lee Travis (to whom I'll always be grateful for introducing me to 'East River' by 'The Brecker Brothers'). They all specialised in different genres to a certain extent but they each had two things in common - their musical knowledge and their voice.

Each would tell you the name of the track, the performers, the record label and, as often as not, which bands the members had previously been with (how often do you hear that info these days?). Each voice was radically different in tone and timbre but each was rich, fruity and instantly recognisable - not something you could say about most d.j.s today - and I couldn't get enough of them.

The best thing about these guys though was their choice of music. Peel (Sounds of the Seventies and Top Gear) and Fluff (Saturday Rock Show) in particular had a massive influence on my burgeoning tastes as they were so eclectic. Peel would play Ivor Cutler one minute, the Portsmouth Sinfonia the next, followed by something more 'mainstream' like Van der Graaf Generator. Fluff was more rock orientated but he'd throw in a bit of Tchaikovsky between the Jethro Tull and King Crimson.

The vast majority of these tracks would be new to one's ears as few of the artists concerned released singles. If you liked something you had to go out and buy the album to hear it again (unless you managed to catch it on your Phillips cassette recorder that is...ooh, naughty you. Didn't you know that home taping is killing music?).

I still vividly remember exactly where I was when I first heard certain songs. I was lying on my bed in my brown-walled bedroom drooling over my newly acquired first drum kit - an Ajax - in the corner when I first heard Frank Zappa's Cosmic Debris. I was crating up empty beer bottles outside the back of my parent's pub when I first heard Jet by Wings. I was in the bath when I first heard Bowie's Starman.

It wasn't just me either. There were times when every pubescent boy in the country would experience the same Damascene moment of realisation that they'd just come into contact with something extraordinary. In the early seventies this usually involved the 'Old Grey Whistle Test', the only rock music show on the telly at the time. I was watching OGWT in the upstairs living room in my parent's pub one night when a band of Dutch nutters appeared and played a fast instrumental number that included whistling and, believe it or not, yodelling sections. I went to school the next day and everyone had scratched 'Focus' into their satchels. The local music shop, 'Record Rendezvous', was inundated with schoolkids desperate to buy Focus' Moving Waves album during their lunch break.

I wonder if kids today experience such eureka moments when they first get an earhole full of Kings of Leon. Actually, I like the Kings of Leon and I imagine that every generation has its 'stop what you're doing and go AAAWW YEAH' moment.

Whatever, if I ever get around to starting up the Old Blodger's Curate's Egg rock show my manifesto will be as follows:

• There will be no advertising, quizzes or phone-ins (but perhaps the odd jingle)
• You will be told the name of each track and artist/band plus any interesting historical trivia about same
• You won't hear 'Don't Stop' by Fleetwood Mac
• You will hear 'Green Manalishi' by Fleetwood Mac
• You will hear new bands as long as I think they're good
• You will hear lots of covers, particularly the funny ones
• You will hear genuine 'classic album tracks' - i.e. tracks that were never released as singles
• You will be able to request a track and I might play it if I find it interesting enough
• Though it is predominantly a rock show I will spin anything I like as the fancy takes me. This could be Doo Wop, Americana, Classical, Ivor Cutler, Richard Cheese, the whole of 'Zeit' by Tangerine Dream (scary stuff), Dean Martin or obscure seventies Italian prog-rock
• You will hear loads and loads of funk

So there you have it. Interested?

Keep on truckin',
oldblodger

Television Eye

The erstwhile Wham singer's name has apparently been adopted as modern cockney rhyming slang for the term 'menstrual cycle' (as in, "Cor blimey guvnor, I wouldn't get into a barney with her. She's only on her George Michael, ain't she? Cor blimey, strike a light!"). I heard about this on BBC Radio 5 Live a couple of days ago from one of the guys who writes for Q.I. so it must be true.

Following on from this, I was hoping to be the first person to come up with 'sanitary towel' for Simon Cowell but I just googled it and, sure enough, someone's beaten me to it.

Inventing modern cockney seems to be a whole new cyberspace industry. I heard my favourite rhyme a few years ago when a guy I worked with in Kensington (not exactly the spiritual home of the cockney barrow boy) said that he was going to buy some new 'Lionels' in his lunch break. Before I could say "give us a clue" he explained that he was going to buy some new trousers (Lionel Blairs = flares, geddit?). Still makes me giggle now.

I had a sudden brainwave as I was typing that. Wouldn't Lionel Blair be an obvious choice as a judge on Strictly Come Dancing? I just googled him as well and he's already been mooted for Bruce Forsythe's role, should he ever drop off his perch. Bloody hell! It's impossible to come up with an original thought these days.

These thoughts lead me nicely into today's sermon. Television - Satan's Spawn or God-in-the-Corner?

The Brunette and I pride ourselves on no longer watching the telly. Or rather, we no longer watch television channels. There is a difference. We actually spend quite a lot of time watching t.v. programmes in the form of DVD box sets, which is great as we can choose which hours of the day to waste instead of having the decision made for us by the channels.

I was going to say that we don't even own a telly but that would have been a lie. We own two, both of which are in our County Leitrim home. However, neither of these can pick up broadcast television. Our 37" LCD is in a room with no aerial, cable or satellite connections and our portable is attached to an aerial that doesn't work any more. It's been like this for the last three years and we've apparently missed out on so much.

Reality t.v., for instance. I know it's been around for longer than three years but we were never really into it before then either. I've seen about twenty minutes in toto of 'Big Brothel' over the years, which is more than enough time for one to realise that one isn't trailer trash and one needn't ever watch it again (yes, I know I'm a snob but I wonder if any of that show's under-30 fans have read any George Orwell and realised that it's a bad idea).

I've seen a couple of episodes of 'I'm a Has-Been, Get Me onto that Jungle Show Immediately or I'll Find Another Agent' and I must admit that I can see how you could get sucked in. Fortunately I weaned myself off it before the addiction took hold.

I've seen the odd 'X Factor' and 'American Idol' and, love him or loathe him, you have to admire old Sanitary, don't you? In the same way that you might admire Jeffrey Archer. Both got into financial difficulties before rising, phoenix-like, to great wealth and influence and both produce pap that'll rot your brain if you stare at it long enough.

The one reality show that we've spent any significant amount of time watching (usually at our neighbours' gaff) is Strictly, mainly because the Brunette likes it, but even this is a rare occurence.

So what do we watch? Well, we're currently wading through the second season of 'House' (I say 'season' rather than 'series' because that's what the Yanks call it and it is their show after all). Hasn't Hugh Laurie done well? He's currently the sixth highest paid star in American network prime time television - not bad for an Eton boy! It's a good show, yet another in a long list of successful American medical dramas. Beats the hell out of 'Casualty' anyway. We left Florida on Thanksgiving Day (26th November) and one of the networks was showing episodes of House all that day - we nearly didn't come home.

We intersperse House with our third viewing of 'The West Wing'. Fantastic stuff. I've also recently caught up with all four seasons of the 're-imagined Battlestar Galactica', another great political drama. I haven't managed to persuade the Brunette of its worthiness yet but I'm working on it. I have to as we now have 'Caprica' to look forward to. Maybe I could get her to watch BG if I buy her the box sets of Law & Order Special Victims Unit.

The one thing in common with the above is that they are all, of course, American. The Yanks are putting out some fabulous drama shows at the moment but, in the light of Channel 4's recent announcement of the cancelling of Big Brothel, I'm hoping that we can soon return to the glory days of British t.v. drama series. That would be the nineties then. Cracker, A Touch of Frost, Cold Feet, Pie in the Sky, Between the Lines - the list goes on. We can still do quality comedy - The Thick of It, The Green Wing, The Office, Extras and Gavin & Stacey spring to mind.

If we can start churning out a few intelligent dramas with a bit of depth again (it's possible - look at Life on Mars and Ashes to Ashes) then perhaps I'll get our aerial sorted out.

Or wait for the box sets.

Keep 'em peeled,
oldblodger