Easter weekend news roundup

Riot at Primark - Evening Standard. Exciting times on Oxford Street! I must check out this Primark place of which you speak.

The Queen's loaf is saved - Evening Standard (no link). Apparently, HM The Queen was devastated to hear rumours that Waitrose was about to discontinue her favourite brown loaf - the "Ascot". "Indeed, so upset was she that a member of the Royal household was despatched to Waitrose to ask them to reconsider their decision, and restore the 59p loaf to the shelves."

Happily, the Ascot loaf has not been discontinued but merely repackaged - now it will be known as "thin sliced brown bread".

Waitrose says: "We have been consistently selling our Waitrose thinly sliced brown bread for many years. The bread is the quintessential English loaf, perfect for delicate cucumber sandwiches, or to serve with smoked salmon." Ha! So now we know how to make the perfect Royal cucumber sandwich for tea.

More rather intriguing Royal news/gossip in the Evening Standard:

The very curious world of the royal odd couple (no link, ES 05/04/07 p18). Where did Camilla go to recuperate from her hysterectomy? One of the three Royal palaces she shares with Charles? - or her own private house, away from Charles? The second guess would be correct. The article is interesting in that it reflects on issues arising in the royal marriage, mainly to do with his thoughtlessness. The moral this reader drew from the story: be wary of answered prayers, Camilla. One thing being the bit on the side. Quite another to be the main event.

Gay couples given keys to the Magic Kingdom as Disney relents - The Guardian Now gays can get married at Disneyland!

Chaos on sinking Greek cruise ship - BBC. It is quite unbelievable that a cruise liner can run aground and sink virtually in the Island's harbour. I definitely intend to avoid Louis Cruise Lines. Another of their boats had an engine fire in the English Channel last year, and apparently the company also owns the resort where the two English children died of carbon monoxide poisoning recently. Two French tourists are missing in this latest tragedy.

Finally, some shocking local news: Pregnant woman shot dead at flat. A few weeks ago, a teenager was shot near Clapham North station. This new murder seems to be related to a feud with a neighbour over parking. Just off Northcote Road, this is the epicentre of Nappy Valley, in estate agent speak "between the Commons", one of the most desirable stretches of property in this area. In BBC parlance, definitely "residential".

eggs eggs eggs

Backlash on Chesil Beach

Our national living literary treasure Ian McEwan has long remained gracefully dignified in the face of various moronic allegations of plagiarism. However, Natasha Walter's Guardian review of his new book On Chesil Beach obviously got to him in a big way.

However, unlike Jeanette Winterson, who famously and magnificently turned up on the doorstep of a disagreeable critic (in the middle of a dinner-party), McEwan has restricted himself to a critic slap-down on The Guardian's letters page:

" . . . she reported that my views about the peace movement stuck in her throat.

. . . I accept that being forgiven by critics is an occupational hazard, but just for the record and Ms Walter's throat, perhaps I could set this matter straight. When she was still at her primary school I was campaigning, writing and speaking against nuclear weapons. I was a member of European Nuclear Disarmament . . . "

His letter builds up to a thrilling climax:

"I sometimes wonder whether these common critical confusions arise unconsciously from a prevailing atmosphere of empowering consumerism - the exaltation of the subjective, the "not in my name" syndrome. It certainly seems odd to me that such simple precepts need pointing up: your not "liking" the characters is not the same as your not liking the book; you don't have to think the central character is nice; the views of the characters don't have to be yours, and are not necessarily those of the author; a novel is not always all about you."

Take that, Natasha! Oops! Oh, the shame.

100/10

Some exciting milestones: firstly, this is my 100th post! Hooray me! ~ and secondly, The Guardian reminds us this week marks the 10th anniversary of the birth of the blog. Now, a blog is born every second. Go, blogs!

Entertainingly, The Guardian's article quotes Andrew Keen, "a former dot-com entrepeneur" and the author of the forthcoming book Cult of the Amateur: How Today's Internet is Killing Our Culture. The title truly says it all. Mr Keen seems to think that most of web 2.0 is "digital narcissism": "It's seductive in the sense that it convinces people to think they have more to say and are more interesting than they really are," he said. "The real issue is whether it adds any more to our culture. Most of it is just so transient and ephemeral."

Hmmm. That's Life, Andrew. Methinks the description "former dot-com entrepeneur" is indicative - sour grapes, guy! The quality argument is completely fallacious, and has been made of every advance in communication technology since Plato dissed the invention of writing. I do like the "digital narcissism" quote though - I may borrow that for my profile!

The other pundit The Guardian quotes, Dan Gilmour (author of We The Media) is far more blog-friendly. I tend to agree with him:

"Blogging and other kinds of conversational media are the early tools of a truly read-write web," said Dan Gillmor, author of citizen journalism bible We The Media. "They've helped turn media consumers into creators, and creators into collaborators - a shift whose impact we're just beginning to feel, much less understand."

coffee break with shaggy blog stories

coffee break with shaggy blog stories, originally uploaded by hedgiecc.

Yay! It has arrived. Taken a pic to mark it's delivery, and also as part of the Shaggy Blog Stories flickr group marketing campaign. Clicky on piccy to take you to flickr, then click on the Shaggy Blog Stories link to see the rest of the pool.

Alternatively, just buy yourself a copy! To date, just over £2,000 has been raised for Comic Relief.

Those Fox's Creations Luxury Milk Chocolate Shortcake biscuits are my absolute favourites currently. Honestly, Sainsbury's can't restock quickly enough.

They have the ideal choclate:biscuit ratio, which is much more chocolate than biscuit. Yum!

Quote London

"London has survived Britain's century-long decline to carve out a role for itself as a semi-independent city-state. But will the price of becoming the global city prove too high for those who actually live here?" - A City of Capital, an essay in Prospect (via Daily Dish)

weekend news roundup

Miracle Nun: 'I wrote John Paul II's name and I was cured' - The Guardian A nun from Aix-en-Provence is cured of Parkinson's by writing the name of pope John Paul II. This may possibly put JPII on the fast-track to sainthood.

Can I get fired for blogging? - The Guardian. Well, yes. But Catherine Sanderson (Petite Anglaise) has won almost £30K + costs from her ex-employers accountants Dixon Wilson from a Parisian tribunal last week. Yay for her! I really don't know why employers are so touchy about blogging. My policy is not to discuss work at all, and certainly not even to blog from work or in official work time.

Blair: I'll be treading the boards again - The Observer Apparently, Tony has acccepted an offer from Kevin Spacey to act in a production of Arthur Miller's The Crucible at The Old Vic later this year. Tony will play the role of the Reverend John Hale.

This is exciting news. America has had a President who used to be an actor, and we here in the UK are about to have an actor who used to be the Prime Minister! Well done Kevin Spacey! - it's bound to be an amazing success, even if only for the novelty value. But apparently acting was Tony's first love, and his sketch with Catherine Tate for last month's Comic Relief television appeal was actually quite good, so the potential is there. I certainly plan to go.

Thursday picture: darkness at noon

City Hall from the Tower of London

statistical analysis - daleks and duchesses

Well, analysis shows that if you don't want to be taken for a food blogger stop blogging about food! By far the largest number of hits I'm getting on Google searches are from people looking for "Marks and Spencer Dalek cake".

Sorry, people, I haven't actually written about this cake - I mentioned purchasing and eating a M&S Dalek Easter Egg a couple of weeks back - but the idea of a Dalek cake sounds so great. And the very large number of people looking for one at M&S seems to suggest it might be real.

So I kept a look-out for it at the Clapham Junction branch yesterday but couldn't find it. Maybe they only have them at the larger branches. If they don't have one what an opportunity! M&S product development people take note! The two dalek-themed Easter Eggs were at Clapham Junction, although on floor-level shelving - slightly disrespectful to the glory that is Dr Who, I thought.

The £4.99 egg is all about the packaging - the vaguely dalek-shaped box contains a standard chocolate egg. However, the killer detail on the box is the speaking chip which cries "Exterminate! Exterminate!" on demand.

It is this feature which has to date saved my empty dalek box from the recycle bin.

I still pine for an actual chocolate dalek. However, the production costs of creating a mold for one might scare off licensees, and I understand the BBC doesn't hold the full copyright to the daleks anyway, so any deal would be a three-cornered discussion. Oops.

In other analysis news, my blatant and brazen strategy of naming every random celebrity going is bearing fruit. Out of the celebrities I've name-checked recently - eg Madonna, Terry Wogan, Fern Cotton, Jonathan Ross, etc etc etc - can you guess the one who tops the Clapham Ominbus charts?

Well, in a breakthrough for the British Aristocracy I can exclusively reveal our top celebrity is none other than Her Grace the dowager Duchess of Devonshire. There you go. Who said the British class system was dead, or even off-line?

Save Battersea Power Station

It's sheer hell to be so cynical yet so correct.

"Battersea Power Station’s future remains in doubt as the fantastic hulk of the art-deco building itself remains in sorry dereliction.
Yesterday, the Guardian reported that the new owners of the £400m prime 36+ acre riverside site, Treasury Holdings, had scrapped development plans approved by Wandsworth Council in November last year and speculated whether London might be about to lose the four iconic chimneys altogether to yet another bland, luxury, residential development if the Power Station is allowed to further deteriorate beyond the realms of renovation." (Londonist)

Wandsworth Council and previous owners, Parkview, refused to even consider an alternative report by a team of three companies of concrete experts brought together by the World Monuments Fund & Twentieth Century Society, who have revealed that the chimneys can be repaired for half the cost of demolition and rebuilding.

The independent report also revealed there is no sign of structural distress in the chimneys. When Parkview bought the site thirteen years ago, they promised to restore it, but instead sat on it and did nothing, merely hanging onto it as property speculators. They pushed through planning permission to demolish the chimneys, full of promises to restore the building, but instead immediately flogged it for a £240m profit, since the value of the site had increased hugely as a result of planning permission to demolish the chimneys. Profit not renovation was evidently their aim.

UK voters can sign the government petition here.

The Guardian article can be read here.

weekend news roundup

Cricket coach was poisoned and strangled, police believe
*Bob Woolmer knew hotel-room killer
*He was ready to expose corruption
*Fixing enquiry into Ireland game
- The Daily Telegraph

Poison again - well, at least this time it's unlikely to be polonium. But now a possible crime from the past is emerging:

Family to test Houdini’s body for poison “Descendants of Harry Houdini announced plans to exhume his remains following claims he was poisoned.” - The Daily Telegraph

Houdini died suddenly in 1926 – an international conspiracy of spiritualists is suspected. Houdini mocked the spiritualists. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, a keen spiritualist, wrote that Houdini would “get his just desserts very exactly meted out”.

Gay British men pay fertility clinic £33,000 for designer babies - Sunday Times. The Fertitilty Institutes, the clinic in Los Angeles runs the programme. A Gay baby boom!

the tell-tail clue to decoding dog behaviour – it’s how they wag ‘em - Dogs wag their tails to the right when they see something fmiliar, such as their owner, and to the left when confronted with something they want to run away from, it was revealed yesterday. The bias is subtle, requiring video analysis to spot.” - The Daily Telegraph

Will Italy’s laws to cut bad driving get lost in the traffic?
5,000 died, 330,000 injured on Italian roads last year. - The Daily Telegraph

I wonder how the figures compare to the UK's? As a pedestrian, I would like to praise Italian drivers - they are amazingly polite and chivalrous towards idiotic tourist pedestrians. Totally unlike the French or British. A British pedestrian's life is very miserable. Just yesterday I got hooted at by an irate driver while I was crossing the street in front of my own home - miles away from his speeding car.

Lowry's dark imagination comes to light - The Observer. Disturbing and sexually deviant drawings have remained hidden since the iconic British painter's death in 1976.
Hmmm. LS Lowry left his entire estate to a teenage girl fan. I'm actually not a fan of his stuff.

Tate buys women's art for sex equality - The Sunday Times. The Tate does not possess a single Georgia O'Keefe or Frida Kahlo.

"Silicon Valley's dot-com era may be givig way to the watt-com era. Out of the ashes of the Internet bust, many technology veterans have regrouped and found a new mission in alternative energy: developing wind power, solar panels, ethanol plants and hydrogen-powered cars." - The New York Times


Fyffes warns of dearer bananas “Britain’s favourite food – the humble banana – is set to increase in price after Fyffes, one of the world’s largest importers, said it would pass on soaring costs of production to consumers.” - The Daily Telegraph

Abolition

"We may now consider that this trade as having received its condemnation; that its sentence is sealed; that this curse of mankind is seen by the House in its true light; and that the greatest stigma on our national character which ever exisited is about to be removed." - William Pitt in the House of Commons, 2 April 1792. Slightly prematurely, as the slave trade would only be abolished 15 years later, on 25th March 1807, and slavery itself banned throughout the British colonies in 1833.

Today is the 200th anniversary of the banning of the slave trade in the British Empire. While Britain was the most active and successful slave trading nation in the
18th century, it was also the first nation in recorded history to ban slave trading, and thence forward actively promoted the end of slavery internationally. From our perspective, slavery seems obviously wrong, but at that time it was common to justify slavery on biblical grounds - the dreaded Leviticus, no less, sanctions it. Fifty years after Britain banned the slave trade, the southern States of the USA were still using Leviticus to justify slavery, a position which led to the Civil War.

The Devil Wears Hennes

Yay for Madonna!

I can’t vouch for the clothes, but H&M’s PR department must be totally chuffed – The Guardian, no less, ran a photo-essay on the day the clothes hit the stores.

The ad is so cool; so visually gorgeous: and Madonna herself is so cool, so visually gorgeous, and yes, so funny – one can’t help but wonder why she has to date not made that iconic film performance. Surely with the right script and director it could still happen? It just has to! The poor woman is pushing 50 – she can’t be a dance diva forever!

The ad is Madge’s riff on The Devil Wears Prada – but this version ends happily, with the acolyte running off with the devil.

The You Tube phenomenon is fascinating, non? – with Viacom suing Google for millions, the only content producers happy about You Tube’s freedom are advertisers – totally free advertising downloaded and watched by people who are motivated to watch! Surely the Ad industry’s dream come true? I predict this is the future of advertising – product ads so sensational they achieve an indefinite half-life on the internet.

And once again Madge is on the crest of the wave. Clever girl – keep your focus on the product!

rhubarb update

It's best harvested by candlelight.

Shaggy Blog Stories

Mike at Troubled Diva has organized, compiled and produced a book of 100 of the best comic blogs in the UK to raise money for Comic Relief. All in one week! Astonishing commitment and energy, as well as a great idea. Shaggy Blog Stories features comic writing from not only the cream of British blogging, but also the best up-and-coming and undiscovered writers publishing their work on their own websites. It sounds like a really nice book to dip into, and to see what's happening out there on teh internets. After all, we are in the middle of the biggest revolution in informations systems since Gutenberg's printing press.

The book is produced and distributed by Lulu.com, an internet print-on-demand publisher (who is also donating their profits from the book to Comic Relief), so the entire project is very cutting-edge new media. I've ordered my copy today and you can too at:

www.shaggyblogstories.co.uk

Thursday photo: Magnolia (still hoping for Spring)

Cold, drizzly and nasty! - this photo seems like it was taken a lifetime ago. I want summer!

Grandad's medals

Grandad's medals, originally uploaded by hedgiecc.

Today my grandfather would have been 107 years old. These are his medals. He ran away from home at the age of 15 and lied about his age in order to join the airforce - before it was even called the RAF. He spent his entire working life there, rising to the rank of Wing Commander, and serving all over - Malta, Egypt, Aden, South Africa, Burma, Suez.

He visited us in Johannesburg when I was about 10. Every day, we would walk together to what he called "the village" - our local suburban shopping mall, where we would sit in a cafe drinking tea (and/or chocolate milkshakes and waffles).

Finally, it was time for him to take the Blue Train back down to Cape Town to join his ship sailing back to England (despite his long career in the airforce he hated flying). I kind of knew that this would be the last time I saw him, and therefore decided to "interview" him on my tape recorder. I remember he said he hoped the next time he saw me I would be "a general in the army".

The army was never my thing - even as a child I didn't like playing with toy soldiers, so I was slightly disappointed with his comment.

But my intuition was right - it was the last time we saw each other. Three years later he died of a stroke. Dad flew to London for the funeral, bringing back the medals.

Later, I came to London to study and stayed on afterwards. My aunt told me on his bedside table they found the poem I had written for him and read on the platform at Johnannesburg station all those years ago.

weekend news digest

Home sales gridlocked - The property supply is at a 10-year low, fuelling higher prices. Between 80 and 100 buyers are pursuing every property for sale. The average house price is now rising by £122 a day - Daily Telegraph. Ooh, sorry, hard for me not to be obnoxiously smug here . . .

Rocky Mountain High by John Denver, once nearly banned by the US for its alleged glorification of drug use, has become the Colorado state anthem - The Guardian

Sculpture that cost £132,000 crushed to dust - “A sculpture by Anish Kapoor, entrusted to a specialist fine art storage firm, was probably mistaken for builders’ rubble, dumped in a skip and destroyed by a waste crusher, a high court judge concluded yesterday” – The Guardian. The picture shows Anish Kapoor in happier times with his amazing installation Marsyas in Tate Modern’s turbine hall.

Police raid on theatre saves a lobster from certain death. “Avant-garde theatre is under attack in Italy for pushing the boat out too far after police raided a Milan playhouse to save a lobster from being bludgeoned to death and eaten on stage.
Following complaints from animal rights groups, the first-night performance of Incident: Kill to Eat by Argentinian playwright Rodrigo Garcia was broken up by three plainclothes officers who spared the lobster from an all-too-real death scene.” - The Guardian. Apparently, theatre is now more popular in Italy, with 13 million theatre tickets being sold last year, against 9 million football tickets.

£25 fridge gadget that could slash greenhouse emissions - The Guardian. This brilliant device (the e-cube) converts fridge thermostats to measure food temperature rather than air temperature, and thus saves huge amounts of energy. Fridges account for around 20% of domestic energy use, and fitting one of these to every fridge in Britain would reduce carbon dioxide emissions by more than 2 million tonnes a year, as well as saving on energy bills. A totally common-sense idea - hooray!

Exodus – villages empty as 3m flee in search of hope abroad. Zimbabwe today – average life expectancy – 37 (as opposed to 60 in 1990); infant mortality rate up to 81 per 1,000; national income per person is $340 against South Africa’s $4,960; 5.5m Zimbabweans live with HIV; 1.1m Aids orphans; 6 out of every 100 have a phone (47 in South Africa); 56% of the population live on less than $1 a day - The Guardian. This is all mainly thanks to the ineptitude and corruption of Robert Mugabe and his cohorts in Zanu-PF. I was born in Zimbabwe, and it is tragic to see how that wonderful country has failed.

End of the line for HP sauce - ‘The last bottle of HP sauce to be made in Britain rolled off the production line yesterday. The final batch of the iconic brown condiment was made at the company’s factory in Aston, Birmingham, at 6am.
Heinz, the parent company, is moving production to the Netherlands with the loss of 120 jobs. A spokesman for the Transport and General Workers’ Union said last night: “The plant has been a landmark for 108 years – you could smell it from miles away.”’ – The Telegraph

Britpop goes rocking back into the US: Amy Winehouse and the Fratellis spearhead British music’s new transatlantic chart assault - “A new wave of British bands is taking the Unirted States by storm – and being credited with ‘saving pop music’ in America. ‘British empire strikes back’ yelled the the USA Today newspaper, adding ‘The British are humming’ as it feted at least half a dozen UK artists poised to make it big across the Atlantic.” – The Sunday Times

Right – let’s talk rhubarb protection - “Food from Britain, the government-backed marketing organization, has launched an appeal to producers of local ‘signature foods’ to apply for European Union protection.” To date, 35 British foods have been awarded this status, against 161 French foods and 155 Italian foods. Surprise, surprise, listing means enhanced access to Euro-funding.
“Among the British foods now bidding for protected status is Yorkshire rhubarb, which is grown in an area around Leeds, Bradford and Wakefield known as the ‘rhubarb triangle’.
The application for EU recognition states the rhubarb is grown indoors, benefits from the cold, heavy Yorkshire soil and has a ‘superior’ flavour to its rivals.” - The Sunday Times

Big Brovaz wuz robbed!!

A fantastic, original song, a theatrical performance blasting energy - a vote-winner with the European observers present - so of course we didn't pick them. Doh!

Instead, Scooch won. Hyped as being 'a return to pop' (circa 1974, I'd say), this is a pitch-perfect example of its genre: the British Eurovision Song. It honestly would not exist without the Eurovision Song Contest. A teeny tiny part of me thinks its aggressive campery may just do it for us - however, the larger part thinks this will sink without trace. Deservedly so.

Justin Hawkins, ex-frontman of Darkness, and Beverlei Brown were the bookies' favourites. An absolutely inspired pairing with stupendous costumes. Sad the song was par-for-the-course Hawkins stuff, and for Eurovision greater attention should have been given to the choreography. This was never going to win; the package didn't live up to the ingredients.

Liz McClarnon's effort (Don't It Make You) Happy! was my second choice. I think she was let down slightly by off-production and opening-act nerves (although in spectacular voice) - the backing dancers appeared at least to this unschooled observer to be under-rehearsed.

Least said the better about Brian Harvey's ballad. I was pleased to see him fighting back from the verge of personal tragedy, etc etc etc.

Fern Cotton's dress was fantastic in the first half of the programme. But she reverted to that wide and deep v-cut neck-line in the second half WHICH DOES ABSOLUTELY NOTHING FOR HER! ~ note to stylist. It was amusing to watch her manage dear old Terry Wogan. His gaga old buffer act is reaching a fairly critical stage - is it actually, in fact, not an act at all??!! - He announced as the winner Cyndi's Celine Dion-esque effort, and had to be corrected by Fern. That this was the runner-up was a second reason for despair.

However, the ominously threatened Morrisey entry did not transpire, and for this all Smiths fans must be forever grateful.

This year's Eurovision Song Contest will take place in Helsinki on 12 May.

Meet the UK's Eurovision hopefuls
Gaffe mars Scooch Eurovision win

Leon Kossof at the National Gallery

After my lunch in Notting Hill I meandered my way back southwards via the National Gallery to have a quick peek. The free national collections are a major bonus to living in London - it's a pleasure to suddenly get the urge to say hello to the Titians and just pop in for 15 minutes or so.

Leon Kossof first visited the National Gallery on his own at the age of 10 in 1936. He made his way from his home in Hackney. Later, he said that for him, all roads in London led to the National Gallery. Wow.

A reproduction of his painting Spitalfields in one of the papers prompted me to have a look at the original. It has a wonderfully robust, almost sculptural presence of its own. Layers of oil paint are heaped up on the board and swirl luxuriantly across the surface. It's a mountainous landscape of gloopy impasto, especially visible at the edges of the painting from which, as it is unframed, the gallery lights project extraordinary shadows on the walls.

But this muscular abstractionism is delicately balanced by the representation of Christ Church Spitalfields. It is just there, in all its precipitous perspective. The creamy greys, blues and greens do correspond - almost tangentally - to the reality of architecture, trees and sky. The painting asks us to take it as an object, then conjures up a representation of something else.

The stream of ambiguity is deepened by Kossof's preferred Baroque sources in this exhibition - Poussin, Rubens and Hawksmoor. In his etchings Kossof renders the classical Poussinesque compositions clearly but within an expressive flickering framework of abstract marks. And it is notable how ambiguous these Baroque artists themselves all are - they all hover daringly on the border between classicism and outright expressiveness. Hawksmoor's towering pile is more expressive than a full-blown Gothic Cathedral; Poussin is surreptitiously partial to stretching figures and playing games with light for effect.

Leon Kossof: Drawing from Painting
14th March - 1 July 2007
Sunley Room
National Gallery
Trafalgar Square

www.nationalgallery.org.uk

Electric jolts

The last 18 months have taught me that your life can change in a moment. One Friday, you can be called up to your manager’s office for a lunchtime meeting to find yourself out on the pavement five minutes later, sans keys, credit card and job. You can then spend the next few weeks becoming an expert in employment law, briefing the best employment lawyer you can find, and generally fighting tooth-and-nail for a decent settlement. In the middle of all this, your father may suffer a stroke, fall and break his neck, and spend the next 3 months in hospital on the other side of the world in critical care with a variety of hospital superbugs.

Distracted, worried and depressed, it may take a while to find a new job. The mortgage is ticking away, taking with it your life savings. Options appear to be closing down. But one day, you get a call; an invitation to lunch.

Because no matter how bad or how good your day is, and in whichever sudden new direction the wheel of fortune has decided to throw you, there will always be food.

I can’t remember what I ate the evening I was fired. But my upswing started with lunch at the Electric Brasserie in Notting Hill. Time Out suggests one be persistent, and one “will eventually secure a booking at what is one of the most fashionable restaurants in Notting Hill” – sort of like my career path, really.

We industry gossiped and discussed job specs over a delicious salad of avocado, broad beans, radish, frisee and delicate slivers of Italian cheese – tossed in a fresh light dressing which did not overpower the tender vegetables. For my main I had a spinach and gorgonzola tart – the intensely flavoured cheese melted over wilted spinach in a super light pastry case, all working together coherently as a team. I was pretty much over the moon with this choice, as I had my doubts when ordering – so much could have gone wrong.

The dining room is loud (acoustics are of the echo-ey kind – a dropped glass sounded like a bomb going off), and we were seated next to a tableful of Notting Hillbillies, who brayed full bore while chasing lettuce around their plates with forks. So be prepared to shout.

Service was attentive, discreet and friendly, and the cappuchinos just so. My one quibble apart from the noise was the bread offering – the slices were open textured but drying out, and the butter provided was rock-hard. Apart from that, the kitchen really had it together. I would happily go back, anyway. Especially if life takes another upturn!

Electric Brasserie
191 Portobello Road
W11 2ED
020 7908 9696
www.the-electric.co.uk

Thursday pic - Spring is coming

sainsbury daffodils, originally uploaded by hedgiecc.

Sainsbury's special offer - 20 daffs for 90p :-)

[EDIT]

"I wandered lonely as a cloud
To Sainsbury's deli for my lunch
When all at once I saw a crowd
Of daffs at 90p a bunch"

- Barbara Rich, 2007

The lovely Barbara left this beautiful poem as a comment on my flickr stream - I like it so much I'm posting it here too!

Atonement

I saw on Jonathan Ross's Film 2007 that Working Title is going to release an adaptation of Ian McKewan's novel Atonement later this year, starring Keira Knightley and James McAvoy. I'm excited. Atonement is one of my favourite novels, and it certainly offers filmakers lots of scope for epic image making - a tragic love affair played out against a backdrop of glamorous 30's country house parties; the retreat to Dunkirk, and the London Blitz, with wild plot reversals all the way through.

The visuals Jonathan showed looked promising. The film is produced and directed by the same team that did the well-received recent Pride and Prejudice. It will be interesting to see what they do with the novel - despite the spectacular melodrama it will be a bit tricky to film. McKewan plays remarkable literary games in the novel which will not translate easily.

Weekend news digest

I found a Winterson manuscript on the tube – The manuscript of celebrated English novelist Jeanette Winterson's forthcoming novel The Stone Gods was found abandoned on a bench at Balham Station. Oops! - Evening Standard

Amazing grace – The dowager Duchess of Devonshire adapts to her life after Chatsworth by opening a pub in her home village – the Swan Inn at Swinbrook in the Cotswolds. Apparently, she once took tea with Hitler (“he didn’t make a great impression”). I once took tea with Her Grace at Chatsworth, so yikes! – I’ve had tea with the woman who had tea with Hitler. Six degrees of separation and all that. (ES Magazine)

Saturday 10th March – Osama bin Laden’s 50th birthday. Which makes him a caring, spiritual Pisces. Yeesh!

Let’s see what his horoscope says: “Living under the magnifying glass of the media may feel grossly uncomfortable for you. When it comes down to it, no amount of fame or fortune can bring the satisfaction that total freedom does. Since you learn through experience, you may achieve success, fame, and all the trappings before you realize how limiting it can be. You will always stand out as a refined rebel.”Hmm. Not bad so far. “Your ability to influence others is really quite remarkable . . . You have a seductive glamour that flows naturally and effortlessly . . . You are skilled at distilling raw emotion into something provocative and hypnotic”.

Angry crowds hunt Bush as protests mark start of Latin American tour – “Massive corruption scandals involving Brazilian politicians rarely elicit this kind of reaction. Even top-flight Brazilian football teams sometimes struggle to draw such crowds”- The Guardian

Gingrich admits having affair at time of Clinton scandal – The Guardian. The sleaze of politicians knows no depth or end.

Europe sets benchmark for tackling climate change – “millions of homes across Europe face losing filament lightbulbs after the EU agreed to draw up rules by 2009”. - The Guardian. Good show, terrific, etc, BUT how does this affect downlighters? - My flat has 19 of them. And I don’t want those spirally environment-friendly bulbs snaking out of my sockets and spoiling the ceiling plane. Also, the light they emit is awfully cold. I don't like it. As I find myself already planning on importing illicit supplies of lightbulbs from the third world, this is clearly going to be a test of my green credentials.

Sacred Roman settlement found next to Neolithic ‘devil’s hill’- Evidence of a Roman sacred site has been discovered at the foot of a man-made hill created thousands of years before the Romans arrived in Britain, it was announced...English Heritage called the uncovering of the settlement a “startling discovery”, and all the more so because it lies next to 5,000-year-old Silbury Hill, which at 130ft is Europe’s largest man-made prehistoric monument.”- The Telegraph

Daleks are good!

Dalek cake, originally uploaded by tiny_tear.

I was admiring this wonderful homemade dalek cake posted on flickr when my telephone rang - a job offer for me! Whee! Life can change in an instant. This time, thank heavens, for the better.

Daleks terrified me when I was small - they were totally evil, and their metallic voices very fearsome. My parents' often repeated reminders that Daleks couldn't climb stairs made no difference. Eventually, I was banned from watching Dr Who but somehow I would still be drawn to the TV, hiding behind the sofa where my parents were sitting watching. My presence was always revealed whenever things got too scary. Dad would then pick me up and return me to my bed, where the cycle would begin again.

Anyway, all that is behind us as clearly Daleks have a beneficial effect nowadays!

Later on on friday I spotted this chocolate Dalek easter egg from Marks & Spencer. A triumph of packaging - really, the box IS more interesting than the chocolate inside (which is just an ordinary egg. Well, it's chocolate, so no complaints from me, but how fabulous would a real chocolate Dalek be?)

The best part of the box is that it has a speaking chip which screams "Exterminate! Exterminate!" in true Dalek fashion. So I left it to patrol the kitchen while I ate the egg in front of the TV (yes, bad boy, a bit previous to Easter but what the hell, I was celebrating my new job offer) - watching Ugly Betty (hilarious), Gosford Park (genius), and The House of Mirth (depressing). The egg didn't last that long though.

Tower Bridge

London without Tower Bridge would be like Paris without the Eiffel Tower or New York without the Chrysler Building. They all transcend considerations of architectural taste or value to become symbols: totems drawing the tourists inexorably - for once you have seen them, been there, taken the photo and got the t-shirt, you can truly say you have visited the great city; inbibed its essence.

Tower Bridge is great because it's so naff. That Gothic revivalism - surely even in its time it was meant with a sense of fun?

It's a sympathetic partner for its neighbour, the Tower of London, but also references the most spectacular Gothic bridge of all - the medieval London Bridge, destroyed in the Georgian Enlightenment, and a ghost which still haunts this stretch of the river. Not for nothing is Tower Bridge still frequently mistaken for "London" Bridge.



But the cod-medievalism doesn't just cloak the robust Victorian engineering. Form does follow function - in an allusive sense. For what are those massive bascules if not oversized, paired drawbidges? Seeing them raised is a perfectly satisfying visual joke, and far more entertaining than a strictly functionalist version of the bridge would have allowed.

Opened in 1894, Tower Bridge is a good 11 years younger than Brooklyn Bridge in New York, another bridge with Gothic detailing allied with stupendous engineering achievement.



Tower Bridge Official website
Bridge lifting/opening dates and times

Orange alert

I am feeling so inadequate. I like being up-to-date with technology but am more than usually useless with trying to understand it.

Last year, Orange upgraded me to a Nokia 6280. Now, from my previous 'phone, a Nokia 6610i, I could quite happily email phone pics to my computer. Suddenly I couldn't. I recently travelled up to Birmingham and was able to shoot the iconic new Selfridges, and wanted the save the photos. Argh!!!!!!!

I have been through complete 'phone support hell trying to get it sorted so I could email the pics off the 'phone. Two very lengthy sessions with support people - today's chap had to refer to his supervisor who said (I could hear him in the background) that I hadn't 'registered' the 'phone and therefore that was why I couldn't email. End of session. Me left facing a faceless internet page.

Well, sorry, but if there was a checklist for techno-illiterates to follow, or even clear instructions on the website, that might be slightly helpful. As it is, I feel I have about 17 pass codes, email codes, security codes, etc etc etc, without the vaguest clue why I need them or what they are for. After hours of fruitless rootling around I finally got to a page where I could 'register' the 'phone (it's fairly well hidden).

It asked me for all my codes. Yikes. Filled them in in and pressed the button. Watched paint dry. Gave up.

So I took the extraordinary step of referring to my phone's handbook and eventually managed to connect it up to my laptop via bluetooth, whatever that is. Hooray! Thank the Lord for Apple! Now I can just bluetooth the pics across. And I can forget about email until it becomes impossible to ignore.

Have to say, I'm not a fan of the 6280. I prefer my old 6610i.

Weekend news roundup

Eclipse - On Saturday evening clear skies meant Londoners saw the first total lunar eclipse since 2001. The eclipse began at 8.18pm and was complete between 10.44pm and 11.58pm. The red shade is caused by sunlight scattering through the earth's atmosphere being reduced to mainly red wavelengths before being reflected off the moon's surface.

I missed the whole thing as I crashed at around 8pm! - Just too exhausted and couldn't take the pace.

BBC gives up appeal against injunction - The cash for honours affair gets even more interesting, and the politicians seem to be in even hotter water. "Although the precise allegations still cannot be disclosed for legal reasons, they are understood to relate to the 'heart of the investigation'.
. . . the BBC reported that the injunction related to an 'internal email' circulated in Dowing Street." - The Observer

Love is a more accurate indicator of life expectancy than smoking - Happiness s good for you! How to be happier: (a) - move nearer to the office. Commuting is bad for your mental health!; (b) - Get married - except children cause a strain on your happiness until they move out; (c) - Earn at least £25,700 a year: below that is bad, and above that not that much better - way above can actually be bad too; (d) - Get into gardening - 'flow' activities where your brain can switch off are excellent for your health; (e) Get out more - socialise, socialise, socialise! - The Observer

London - " . . . London is the clearing house of Europe, the Nineveh and Babylon of modern times, the wealthiest city on record.
. . . the Square Mile continues to boom. London has become the number one financial centre with the most foreign banks, 70 per cent of the world's secondary bond market and half the derivatives market. The City's 325,000 employees lapped up an estimated £9bn in New year bonuses." - Tristram Hunt, The Observer

The northern lights have the strangest side effects - Abisko in northern Sweden is a popular honeymoon spot with Japanese couples - "they believe babies conceived under the northern lights will become intellectuals. Hotel rooms with glass viewing roofs are popular, and every local seems to know about the collision 120 miles away in Gallivare, when a snowmobile hit an amorous couple displaying remarkable determination - not to mention blood flow - in a sleeping bag." - Ian Belcher, The Sunday Times

Centenary

Wystan Hugh Auden
(21 February 1907, York – 29 September 1973, Vienna)

My favourite 20th-Century poet, and an early hero. I loved The Shield of Achilles from my first reading of it probably around 1973. Later, his homosexuality intrigued me, but I remember reading the biography by Humphrey Carpenter at university depressed me for weeks. It all seemed so tragically sad.

He was felt to have abandoned England when he left for America in 1939; and perhaps his quite admirable political engagement up to that point made his departure especially difficult to fathom for both friends and critics. But it seems it was anxieties around his gayness which inspired the move and kept him from explaining why.

It is pretty remarkable he spent the 1930s visiting some of the low dishonest decade’s most troublesome flash-points – Germany; Spain; China.

His politics seem appropriate once again in the age of globalization and renewed colonial wars. Especially now, which has a most distinct feel of clever hopes once again expiring.

I love his struggle to keep his abundant lyricism checked; his tendency to undercut rhetorical beauty with the commonalities of modern idiom or reference. Very much the organizing principal of The Shield of Achilles, in fact.

The Fall of Rome
[For Cyril Connolly]

The piers are pummeled by the waves;
In a lonely field the rain
Lashes an abandoned train;
Outlaws fill the mountain caves.

Fantastic grow the evening gowns;
Agents of the fisc pursue
Absconding tax-defaulters through
The sewers of provincial towns.

Private rites of magic send
The temple prostitutes to sleep;
All the literati keep
An imaginary friend.

Cerebrotonic Cato may
Extoll the Ancient Disciplines,
But the muscle-bound Marines
Mutiny for food and pay.

Caesar’s double-bed is warm
As an unimportant clerk
Writes I DO NOT LIKE MY WORK
On a pink official form.

Unendowed with wealth or pity,
Little birds with scarlet legs,
Sitting on their speckled eggs,
Eye each flu-inflected city.

Altogether elsewhere, vast
Herds of reindeer move across
Miles and miles of golden moss,
Silently and very fast.
January 1947

SNOW! (2)

Yeah yeah yeah - snowed again and this time I caught it.

Except I haven't got 'round to posting until now. Lazy blogger! Must try harder.

Weekend News Roundup

A slice of Queen Victoria's wedding cake (dating from February 10th 1840) has been discovered at Windsor Castle library. That's a library that could do with more frequent cleaning.

Orange snow in Siberia. Trippy.

The Venezuelan president Hugo Chavez has called George Bush "more dangerous than a monkey with a razor blade". Heh heh. Can't argue with that.

The news about warming is worse than we thought. and it's probably even worse than that: The Bush administration will have tried its best to weaken the message. Chavez wasn't joking.

Snow!

Yeah it snowed briefly last week - and I mised getting a photograph! Oh well - maybe next time. However, it has warmed up a bit and all the Spring flowers are bursting out all over. Holy Trinity Churchyard is awash with crocus.

Surge!

Global Warming watch: the price of a loaf of bread

“The price of a loaf of bread is set to break through the £1 barrier because of the soaring cost of wheat. . .

. . . Poor wheat harvests in major producing countries such as the United States, Australia, Argentina and Ukraine, and increasing demand, helped push the price of wheat up 35 per cent in 2006 to its highest level for a decade.

Some commodity traders call wheat ‘the new gold’. They believe a combination of the failed production, global population growth and a growing demand for wheat to created bioethanol as an almost pollution-free fuel for cars and trucks mean its price is set to go on rising.”

The article doesn’t speculate as to why there is a worldwide collapse of the wheat harvest. Global warming, anyone? ~ if so, this ironically would neatly limit the scope of the bioethanol industry in future years.

Tudor bastards!

The Holbein exhibition inspired several debates about the Tudors.

J regarded Henry VIII as a mediocre king, but C and I argued his impact on English infrastructure and culture was immense – and obviously pretty malign mostly. The Idi Amin of renaissance Europe.

The Monasteries of the time would have been largely responsible for education, agriculture, and medical services – all of which would have ceased upon Dissolution, with all the money grabbed going to pay for Henry’s luxurious lifestyle and the military instead. His selfish, expedient and hypocritical conversion of the state religion to Protestantism would cause centuries of problems for the country.

But strangely enough it goes even further – according to the Observer, Henry’s Preservation of Grain Act (1532) made it compulsory for every man, woman and child across the kingdom to kill as many creatures as possible that appeared on an official list of ‘vermin’. Quotas for each village were enforced and fines levied against those who did not perform.

Many of the ‘vermin’ were classed as such because of medieval superstition. Hedgehogs were driven to near-extinction because it was believed they sucked milk from the teats of recumbent cows at night. The bounty on hedgehogs was 4p, a huge sum in those days. Hundreds of thousands of the little things were murdered. Also persecuted were woodpeckers and kingfishers.

Interestingly, the wildlife persecution was so successful (the laws remained in place for about 200 years) that many of the animal populations have still not recovered and are threatened with extinction today. So the malign Tudor influence lives on.

Entitled

Names and titles sometimes are so evocative. I randomly collect them; my favourite title so far is “Keeper of the Imperial Inkpot” – apparently the title of a high-ranking functionary at the court of the Byzantine Emperors.

Holbein’s sitters’ titles are less glamorous, partly because a lot of them are current (the United Kingdom is the last European country still in the ancien régime phase of political development).

These caught my eye:

“Clerk of the King’s Signet”
“Page of the Chamber”

However nothing in Henry’s time can match “Silver Stick in Waiting”, a title held in Eizabeth II’s court today.

Tudor names can be glorious:

Cyriacus Hale
Cecily Heron
Lady Meutas
William Parr (younger brother of Queen Catherine Parr)

Ok, the last name is nothing really special. I was just touched by the drawing of the young dude – very much a young dude; I would imagine him as a skater-type boy today. He had a long life for the time, so he definitely survived his sister’s beheading.

Holbein

Holbein at Tate Britain. Pile-up of the usual Tudor worthies – the Cheneys and Precotts, Bushes and Blairs of their day.

And crowded before them in a crushing last-day scrum, last-minute Londoners and visitors from across the world. Credit to the Tate’s staff who kept the whole thing running efficiently.

My preference is for the Italian renaissance artists – somehow they seem to pull all elements of painting together into a (self-consciously) stylish whole; the Northerns seem to have a weirdly ‘detail-up’ approach in which a painting becomes an aggregate of individual elements which don't cohere in a satisfying way. It’s a different way of seeing, and it certainly can be impressive in the hands of talents like Van Eyck or Holbein (to name just two); and certainly the Italians themselves were blown away by the oil technique; but I don’t appreciate the Northern lack of stylistic fluency. This lack was ultimately remedied by Rubens (extensively schooled in Italian art), and thereafter the somewhat additive Northern manner dies out.

Holbein loves the human face and captures completely convincingly unposed and fleeting expressions – without being able to work from photographs, so really very impressive indeed. His preference for the human subject is proven by the drawings, in all of which the faces are the parts most developed. The luxurious paraphernalia of dress and jewellery is developed in the finished paintings, not the drawings.

Resolutions

I resolve never to attend temporary exhibitions on their closing weekends.

Especially not with relatives from out-of-town who (a) separate into two parties upon arrival in London; (b) collectively have no idea about time or long it may take to get (for example) from the Science Museum to the Tate; and (c) have an aversion to answering their mobile ‘phones or (d) don’t ‘phone you when they get involved in spontaneous and exciting good Samaritan missions to aid completely random little old ladies from Pimlico with their weekly shopping.

On the plus side, I can report that the Computer Games exhibition at the Science Museum is apparently totally engrossing.

I resolve never to attend exhibitions on their closing weekends on rainy afternoons when the cloakroom queue at the Tate is 5 miles long.

Whiskers

According to Joe.My.God. and Evilganome, beards are in and they are hot. Woof! I’m cresting on this trend, as I seem to have given up shaving since Boxing Day. Hairy Hedgie, that’s me.

Never before in my adult life have I ever grown any facial fuzz (so inhibited was I by parental prohibition) so I feel weirdly rebellious. Striking a blow for freedom for facial follicles.

Alas, yet to achieve the sort of recognition that Joe and Evilganome report, but I can attest that ladies of a certain age seem to find me irresistible. My neighbour squealed with delight when she saw me (she says she likes beards – and come to think about it her husband is fully bearded), and on my way to the Tate in the rain I was picked up by a lost and discombobulated Mittel-European in a fur coat and plastic hairdo-protector who requested my assistance in breaking into the arts college next door. She was under the impression that that was the Tate and was puzzled that it seemed to be locked.

And yes, ok, a handsome young man inside the Tate gave me a lingering look. Woof!

Saturday in London

I like winter when it gets extreme – really cold, so one can be cosy inside; or really snowy, so we can enjoy silly city snow fun and bond over all the urban transport disconnects; or when it really rains like it did on Saturday.

I love the weak grey light mixed with the warm and blinking city lights, the drifts of sparkling raindrops, the towering skeletal trees. Everyone bundled up; umbrellas floating through the dusky half-light.

And then into the tube where we bake and steam.

January market forces

New Year in Sainsbury's - Hedgie takes his place amongst the assembled hordes standing in front of the chilled soups section, all looking hopelessly at the near-empty shelves.

Jeez. I'm not on diet! I just feel like soup at this time of year.

However - over in the snacks section: Pringles half price! Yay!

So it's Pringles for dinner :-)

Washed down with copious quantities of G&T.

Bottled water causes global warming

The backlash starts here. The Londonist makes a strong case:

"London tap water is essentially free, has zero carbon footprint, does not add to landfill, is supposedly better regulated than most bottled varieties and tastes better than other regional tap waters. So why aren't the eco-warriors getting their teeth into the issue in a big way?

Selfridges have just upped the ante by selling a half litre of water for a ridiculous £2.79. And it's flown or shipped in all the way from the Catskills in New York State. This is stupid. And anyone who buys a bottle is a crazy, irresponsible foo'."

Desperate Housewives

OMG! Most classic Bree line ever ~

"I don't do that! I'm a Republican!"

It's back! Yay Yay Yay Yay Yay Yay Yay!

Pan's Labyrinth

I saw the trailer and was entranced with the visuals – but then Mark Kermode’s Five Live podcast (around 9:50 in the stream) really motivated me to go. I was half listening, but vaguely gathered Mr Kermode’s extreme enthusiasm for this movie – in the same league as ‘Citizen Kane’blah blah blah.

I actually tend to agree. The genius of the film is its extreme ambiguity: we never really know for sure if the fantasy is ‘real’ or just a child’s fantasy – and even within the fantasy Pan is a deeply dubious moral figure. The fantasy can be read as the child’s psychological attempt to cope with the reality of her situation: but the movie shows, over and over again, all the adult characters telling, believing, living their lives by stories – ultimately, Fascism itself is a kind of story being imposed on Spanish reality. Reality keeps biting back, for all the characters, creating narrative challenges which are then incorporated in yet more narrative. Narrative is a force of nature for us – we can’t do without it, and yet what we believe leads us to destruction.

Right at the beginning the heroine Ofelia’s weak and sickly pregnant mother derides the child’s continuing belief in fairytales yet tries to force a new story on the girl – asking her to call the Captain ‘father’ – “it’s just a word” she says. Big error.

The evil stepfather Captain totally identifies with his own father’s ‘hero’ story and one sees his skill in manipulating narrative – in the torture scene in particular, where he excrutiatingly plays on the victim’s and viewers' imaginations, making the scene virtually unwatchable, even though the actual violence is far less graphic than elsewhere in the film. The most vital thing in the Captain's life is that his own story will be passed safely on to his son - even at the expense of the baby's mother's health.

The movie is about narrative and humanity’s slavery to narrative; about our use of narrative to control or explain or justify our moral choices. Guillermo del Toro shows narrative to be a powerful yet amoral fact of human existence. What moral salvation there can be for us is predicated on an attempt to escape the rote demands of following the narrative; by questioning the narrative that imprisons us.

Criticism that the film does not adequately integrate the two narrative streams does not recognise the major thematic links between the two halves, or the extent to which the film is a meta-narrative, unaligned to either genre but instead utilising both. And to be absolutely fair, the editing links between reality and fantasy are amongst the most bravura and extraordinary I have ever seen.

Christmas in Carnaby Street

Christmas Joy: Freezing Fog

Will Duguid in today's Guardian:

"Freezing fog: what's not to like? I like to think I'm a caring kind of guy, even where arrogant sociopaths who pollute the skies are concerned, but - respect to all you air passengers huddled in your blankets out there - don't you think this might be the planet trying to tell you something?

And if, like me, you're lucky enough to be snug as a bug in a well-insulated home, doesn't this have to be one of the best environmental stories of the year? Don't you love Nature herself finally taking over, to ground the planes that helped make this the hottest year in history, forcing everyone on to trains and coaches instead? Sorry, but ever since this fog thing started, I haven't been able to wipe the smile off my face."

Solstice

Clapham Common

I've started a group on flickr for Clapham Common photographs - asserting a south London presence on the interweb!

We've gone over 30 members and 100 photos in the first week, so I'm pretty pleased.

Poor 'ol Clapham Common is probably not as photogenic as Hampstead Heath - however, we do have a lot of events and activities going on which I hope people will post photos of in future. And in the meantime, the group has certainly picked up some absolutely stunning images - ones that make you think "Wow! That was taken here?!"

So, join up, take photos, post!

From Russia with . . . ?

Boz first alerted us to the genius that is the M&S Christmas ad.

Now Londonist is campaigning for the divine Bassey to be the Chrstmas Number 1.

And in a desperate atempt to find a new angle on the story, The Grauniad has a rant about the evils of drugs. This is amusing enough to quote at some length:

"Still, perhaps we should acknowledge the drug reference and salute a perfect portrait of the mixed-up, shaken-and-stirred mores of Britain circa late 2006: a 69-year-old grandmother - dressed, say M&S, in a £150 "Magicwear" hold-it-all-in dress - doing a Bond-themed gig in Superman's house and singing about being on E. Fingerfood and sensibly priced partywear all round!"

Works for me.

Meanwhile, over at You Tube (4 stars, 59,213 views, 31 comments and 136 times favourited as I write) the big debate seems to be why didn't Pink get the gig? Some people have no poety in their souls.

BUT - a sudden thought chills me - as we are all aware, real-life Russian ex-spies are suddenly all over our news broadcasts, especially ones dying in James Bondian bizarreness. Is M&S going to suffer blow back from the polonium 210 issue?

While I deplore the callous murder of innocent Russian ex-spies living in our midst, I have to say the British police are giving good investigation. While Vladimir vehemently denies all responsibility, PC Plod keeps on the trail of that polonium 210 and its 130 day half-life. Now, didn't I tell you this whole operation was FUBAR? How brilliant is it that the poison actually leaves traces everywhere it's been, and it appears to have come from Russia? No doubt Vladimir will soon feel the long arm of Britsh law fingering his collar. Or at least testing it for polonium.

Although, I'm also finding it just a tad convenient from the PR angle that one of BA's planes was held at Moscow airport. Almost as if physically making a point. Come on, given airline turnaround times surely all three could have been caught in London?

[update] - from Wipipedia: "A cube of pure polonium-210 about the size of a written period (0.35 mm wide, or 400 micrograms) would still be 3400 times the lethal dose."

Oh - and also:

Deadly Polonium-210 only $69!

Ta Dah - Marie Antoinette

Late reviews - but what the hell -

Marie Antoinette by Sofia Coppola is more enjoyable than is reasonable for such a self-indulgent film; the cinematography and soundtrack, as well as Ms Dunst, are ravishing.

The movie it reminded me of most is Bertolucci's The Last Emperor - both films convincingly depict the effects on the captives of their gilded cages, and both are somewhat tableau-esque in construction. Bertolucci's story is aided by the extreme stylistic changes operating in his history - Imperial China to Art Deco to Mao. Alas, although Sofia does track the development of fashion at Versailles in the period from the stiff and formal panniered dresses of Marie's arrival in France, through the towering wig phase, and onwards to the deceptively simple 'natural' yet equally ruinously expensive flowing muslin gowns of the pre-revolutionary years, this transition is I fear too subtle for a modern audience to comprehend and certainly not enough to carry the plot.

Copolla's triumph is her exquisite, intimate perceptions of a life enmeshed in public royal ritual. I think her choice of near-contemporary music enhances this dimension.

Of course, if she wanted to be truly contemporary, she would have chosen tracks off Scissor Sisters latest CD, Ta-Dah. I think the most flattering thing I can say about it is that I bought it; I must have been the only person in the UK disappointed by their debut. Although some tracks were promising, and Jake Shears's voice was amazing, for me nothing reached the heights of their cover of Comfortably Numb.

I bought Ta-Dah after listening the thing on the band's Myspace page. It's really rather superb - a massive jump up from no.1 and also shows signs their musical development is just beginning. The first track, I don't feel like dancin' has justifiably been hailed as a dance classic, but I think Ooh is even better - in fact everything on the second half is just marvellous.

polonium 210

The unfortunate Mr Litvenenko has now passed away, after a dramatic deathbed accusation of Putin. The British authorities have announced radioactive polonium 210 was found in his urine, at Itsu and the bar of the Mayfair Millennium Hotel - the places he visited on the 1st November.

At this point, poor 'ol Itsu is probably so over. Legend has it there's no such thing as bad publicity, but hell, radioactivity in a fast food joint? I don't think so. Also please note this radioactivity has lasted in the place for a full 3 weeks.

I have to say the media are being very blase about this. The Guardian leader comment seems to imply this is absolutely nomal and only to be expected for spies. Harsh.

There appears to be a backlash against the idea that the Russians did it. The rationale is that the Russians would have been far more discreet and clever than to murder someone in such a painfully public manner. Well, this could be a Russian FUBAR project. FUBAR projects can happen to anyone - ask Tony and W.

We have to expect that we are not being told everything the authorities know, and also that this clearly impacts on Anglo-Russian dilpomatic relations, so the whole thing is going to be managed. I think it is very interesting the Russian ambassador was called into the foreign office for what was described as a "routine meeting" yesterday.

Anyway, a gruesome murder mystery in central London. Can't decide whether it's more like an Agatha Christie or an Ian Fleming novel.

Sushi - Yikes!

I'm going to have to rethink my attachment to sushi.

I can distinctly remember my wonderment when at the age of around 5 I first heard the Japanese ate raw fish. At that stage in my development, the formidable Catholic nuns at my nursery school had extreme difficulty getting me to eat cooked fish on Fridays.

However, time and taste marches on and certainly by the time of the Japan festival in the early 90s I was keen to try the stuff. And rapidly became hooked.

But now - oops. Firstly, a knowledgeable friend absolutely hated my choice of Japanese restaurant (a quite highly rated one, according to all the reviewers, here in South London).

And secondly, my most favourite snack joint is now the notorious scene of an (allegedly) KGB poisoning. Alexander Litvinenko, a Russian dissident, exile and strong critic of Putin's goverment fell ill - of thallium poisoning - after lunch at Itsu in Picadilly.

I love the sushi at Itsu. Yes, its mass-market but the sushi is prepared on the premises and they don't overchill the rice. It's actually really nice and I love going there after a cultural session at the Royal Academy. I liked it so much I wrote a fan letter to Julian Metcalfe, its owner. (He sent a very sweet reply.)

But this is the sort of incident a restaurant can't live down. Sort of like Boris Becker bonking in a broom cupboad at Nobu, only much much much more negative. Much. It's one thing if the food makes you so frisky you can't keep zipped up. Quite another if you are poisoned. Yikes!

You know you're spending too much time on the internet when . . .

You first see the new M&S Christmas ad on someone else's blog.



Thanks, Boz.

Truly fantabulous advert - makes me want to rush to M&S (even though I only buy their food). Oh - and also - the new James Bond is out! Yippee!

The Wisdom of Yorkies

I really like Yorkshire Terriers. The first I met and came to love was my Aunt's - Ozzie.

He looked very ratty compared to our Jack Russell, but was a total charmer to live with: complete terrier mischief and fun but with an 'off-switch', unlike the Jack Russells who just never stop. And also Yorkies do have a sense of their own safety, unlike the Jacks.

His coat used to get filthy every time we went outside, so bathing him became an almost daily event. I trained him to like the blow drier - he thought it was a wonderful game.

Ozzie was named for the rock star and was a pedigree bought at Harrod's. My aunt went in one Chistmas to buy a sewing machine and came out with a dog, of course much to my cousins' delight.

I once gave Oz his evening constitutional along the sea front in Hastings. There was a massive storm that night - the waves reared up out of the darkness and hit the sea wall with awesome force, shaking the walkway and sending foam 20-30 ft into he air. It was a fantastic sight, and being outside and so close to it was exhilarating.

Suddenly I looked down and there was no dog on the leash. He had slipped it. I freaked. I just knew the animal was in the water, and spent minutes tryng to spot the unfortunate creature out there in the savage inky blackness before another monster wave could crush him against the wall.

Nothing. Other late-night dog walkers hadn't seen him either. I ran up and down, calling his name; dreading having to go back to my aunt empty-handed.

And then above the roar of the sea I heard the howling. Behind me and above. I ran up the steps to see Oz cowered in the middle of the road, head between paws, howling his heart out. He barked at me reproachfully when I put his leash back on. As if to say: "You flipping idiot. What are you thinking??!"

And then he dragged me back home as fast his legs would carry him.

Result!

Hooray for elections! Quite a positive result in the US mid-term elections. Due to the President’s rather scary approach to international relations, the rest of the world has taken far more of an interest in these elections than usual, and possibly more so in the UK than elsewhere.

Therefore I found it fascinating that an article on ‘International Reactions’ on the US edition of the CNN website covered France and Germany but did not so much as mention the UK.

Hello? People? – We’re meant to be your biggest allies? Remember us? ~ we’re the ones stuck with you in the quagmire in Iraq.

And we’ll be stuck there until the Americans decide to cut and run, or whatever they end up calling it.

In fact, it was suggested on the BBC’s Newsnight last night that the UK government (as distinct from our military or the public) might be the only body left arguing for “staying the course” if the Democrats manage to change US policy.

So so humiliating.

It was the 50th anniversary of the Suez Crisis this year. For a storm in a teacup it had powerful consequences – apparently, the Europeans started the European Union partly as a result (the French and Germans wanting to create a body that could counterbalance America), and the French kept the UK out for as long as possible (we were seen as too close to the USA).

The UK went through a period of introspection and avoided any military action at all until the Falklands. Since then, we’ve been pretty gung-ho again, BUT always with American approval or partnership.

And now we come to this. I wonder how the end-game in Iraq will affect the ‘Special Relationship’? At the very least, we won’t be so quick to jump on board each and every American project, no matter how mad and ill-prepared, as a matter of course. But will we finally commit to Europe? Oh, the identity issues of a small island!

Fireworks over Clapham

The Council did a good job of the fireworks this year - although they sarted half-an-hour later than advertised. A crisp, clear, and chilly evening. Huge crowds dispersed after a great display off the Common to Clapham South or North: the Common tube was closed by order of the police, presumably to the delight of the many bars and restaurants lining Clapham High Street on the way to Clapham North station.