Morning Mugs,
So the fuckwittery of the Trump administration continues with the village idiot Sean Spicer actually making Trump look intelligent as he stumbles over the right wording to use when discussing Hitler and Holocausts.
Holocaust centre? Yes he meant concentration or death camp. I mean, why even try to change what they were?
'Even Hitler never stooped to using chemical weapons' - yes because that Zyklon B was such an organic and nice way to kill people wasn't it?
I don't buy the holocaust denial theory here, I just buy the theory that this is a massively stupid bloke who spends every moment he's alone screaming and drooling amongst the tears of pain at knowing he is a massive spunkbubble who is massively out of his depth. It can't be easy knowing you're a complete amoeba brained cunt can it?
He reminds me of this guy, but hugely stupid and ignorant, whereas this poor chap was merely the wrong man in the wrong time and wrong place.
BBC Interview Taxi Driver in error
On top of this we have the fuckwitttery of King Fuckwit himself, Boris Fuckwit Johnson, stomping around in his Foreign Fuckwit Secretary role, trying to influence the G7 into applying 'more' sanctions to Syria (yes that will help the ordinary people dying) and Russia (like they give two fucks). Sadly for Boris, such is the UK's (which I will forever now refer to as the DK - Divided Kingdom) diminished standing on the world stage, the G7 basically told him to fuck off and refused to sanction the ....err....sanctions idea. They've unsanctioned your sanctions you Eton educated fat mumbling prick.
On a more serious point, we have to note that the way ahead for the DK is of course diminishing importance and relevance globally. The idea that we will cosy up to the US might be true, but at the expense of our close ties with the EU. It's the equivalent of a 7 year old in school who chooses his or her best friend on a daily basis based on the amount of sweets they donate. The US won't give a fuck about us any more than someone who's put their ageing gran in a home. Yes, they'll say the odd nice word here and there, yes they'll talk about the 'special relationship' which is special to us only, not them. But eventually the US will look at it's biggest markets and it's strongest allies....we won't be there.
And don't give me the bollocks about our history making us deserving of our place on the world stage. Our Imperial history plays some part in the roots of the world's problems now. If you want to know where the DK stands around the world then look at the England football team. They are no power in the world of football. Bugger all influence on UEFA or FIFA, a team of perennial underachievers living off of past glories (glory). England are a team of hopefuls saying the right things and then being spoken of in amused tones by the true giants of Germany, Italy, Spain, Brazil etc. No-one is scared or worried about England. Ditto the UK. Nobody cares about us. Nobody listens to us. We are increasingly irrelevant.
And this may be no bad thing. As a Chelsea fan I know how draining being hated constantly can be, despite the bravado of saying 'nobody likes us, we don't care'. But after the decline of last season, we became a non-news issue. Irrelevant. We were shit. And people stopped talking about us. And I loved it. This season, a polite and seemingly passionate but decent man is in charge. The same with England. Both are quietly building something different, something with managed expectations. Humble, yet slowly rebuilding confidence.
Maybe that's what the DK needs. Someone elected (not you May, you can fuck off as well) who can establish our new place in the world and convince the Oxbridge/Eton muppet brigade and the Disgusted of Tunbridge Wells mewling masses that being mid-table is fine. We'd become a Sweden, a Norway, a Portugal. A mini Canada, which is much nicer than a mini-US. Quietly plodding along in the world, much as every ordinary person does in life. Barely noticed, minding it's own business, doing the best it can in a tough world. Expecting little and enjoying every gain more. Anonymous.
Yeah that would be fine.
Later Mugs, GJ
Wednesday 12 April 2017
Wednesday 5 April 2017
The Importance of Art
Evening Mugs,
I reckon it was about 18 years ago when it suddenly dawned on me that although I'd always been interested in science (specifically physics) and technology, that the one aspect of my life which I'd never allowed to grow, or to even acknowledge was a love of Art. Not ll art of course, you can shove any form of dance up your pert backsides, alongside modern jazz....come to think of it....you can include most old jazz from what I've heard. Near enough everything else in terms of art now warms my soul. I wondered if it was something that I'd hidden subconsciously but now I veer towards thinking I never knew it existed within me.
So why write about this? Well.....it's my blog, so I'll do what I want, selfish bastard that I am.
I've reached an age where I'm beginning to think I've heard all the great music there is to hear. If I find a track or album I want to listen to then it's by accident, or by the fact my musical taste is snobbishly locked to knowing what I like and who makes the stuff I like. Like Manic Street Preachers for example. I always liked them from a distance and then in 2015 I was wandering around Spotify and decided to give an album called Rewind The Film a listen. Did it win me over immediately? No, the best albums never do and in a lot of cases the best art in terms of paintings or sculptures rarely do. But after a play or 3 it hooked me and this then led to finding Futurology, an album they released around the same time. That in turn led me to rediscover a back catalog I hadn't dusted off in a few years. That in turn made my mind up to go to my first festival and see them live. That in turn has made me want to go to more festivals and be myself, because aside from Stamford Bridge, the festival was the first time the corporate me, the stoic patriarch of my family, the man trying his hardest to be alpha male disappeared.
The mask fell away.
For the first time in years I was cheering not because of a great goal or win, but because I was overwhelmed. Overwhelmed by the atmosphere and the tidal wave of .....well....happiness of the day but also of the atmosphere and the fantastic performances of the artists, even from music genre's that I wasn't really into.
I digress....the best music takes work and effort to get into. the same applies to any art form in my view (again, except bloody dance in my case). It doesn't' blow you away (often) but it does have a powerful hook, sometimes conscious, sometimes unconscious. And that hook has some strong elastic attached deep into your soul. And that elastic pulls you back to listen, look or touch again. You been deeply harpooned and the more you try to get away, the more embedded the harpoon becomes. It's like falling in love. Just 19 years ago, the Jackson Pollock above would have had me describing it as a hyperactive 5 year old with some paint who's gone mad. But look again...it has a symmetry and a pattern to it. It's indecipherable and that's why I take great pleasure in looking at it. It's as though subconsciously my mind thinks it will crack the puzzle of meaning even though that's impossible.
The mask fell away.
For the first time in years I was cheering not because of a great goal or win, but because I was overwhelmed. Overwhelmed by the atmosphere and the tidal wave of .....well....happiness of the day but also of the atmosphere and the fantastic performances of the artists, even from music genre's that I wasn't really into.
I digress....the best music takes work and effort to get into. the same applies to any art form in my view (again, except bloody dance in my case). It doesn't' blow you away (often) but it does have a powerful hook, sometimes conscious, sometimes unconscious. And that hook has some strong elastic attached deep into your soul. And that elastic pulls you back to listen, look or touch again. You been deeply harpooned and the more you try to get away, the more embedded the harpoon becomes. It's like falling in love. Just 19 years ago, the Jackson Pollock above would have had me describing it as a hyperactive 5 year old with some paint who's gone mad. But look again...it has a symmetry and a pattern to it. It's indecipherable and that's why I take great pleasure in looking at it. It's as though subconsciously my mind thinks it will crack the puzzle of meaning even though that's impossible.
Like great music and lyrics, great films, TV, plays and other paintings and statues (yes them too) , each is open to the viewer's eye and interpretation, even if the artist is explicit in their description of the piece. Yeah, whatever you say Artist...I'll be the judge of that thanks. As many of you will know I love to be at Stamford Bridge watching my beloved Chelsea, but the surprise is I could spend the same time equally enthralled at the Tate Modern, the Louvre or the Guggenheim. So, Jack, at the ripe old age of ...ahem.....50young.....feels more rounded because of my love for science, for great technology, great design and great art. Just look at the picture below of Michelangelo's Pieta in Rome and its hard to believe it's just a piece of stone.
And so to mention TV. Yes, it is art. Whatever the snobs and toffs and art critics might say. TV has amongst some true dross, produced moments of sheer greatness and made them available to the masses cheaply even if they didn't appreciate it. Just recently my own TV tastes have been sated by one great crime drama which forces the viewer to think and then twists and turns the viewer to a point where you are unsure what is wrong, what is right, who is good and who is bad and at times does all of this within one episode. Take a bow Line of Duty .
Then follow that with two of the greatest anthology genre series you will ever see. The dystopian brilliance of Charlie Brooker and his wonderful Black Mirror which looks into the not too distant future and extrapolates where we are going , often resulting in a bleak, sad, poignant, violent, funny and very rarely an upbeat vision. Even the episodes which are 'clunkers' will still make you think and surprise you. But 15 Million Merits, White Bear, White Christmas, San Junipero and Hated In the Nation from across all 3 series to date are watchable again and again.
And finally, a little lauded treasure from the team who made The League Of Gentlemen and Psychoville, called Inside No9 . This absolute gem , which has just finished series 3, tells a different 30 minute story each week, each relating to the number 9 and each revealing something twisted and unexpected. Yes, a modern day Thriller (one for the teenagers there) or Tales of The Unexpected. Again, even the less good ones of this series are still very good, each beautifully written, shot and performed. And one episode in particular, with no spoiler link , called 12 Days Of Christine, with the world class Sheridan Smith in the lead role is one of the greatest pieces of television ever made, now or in any other era you can think of.
We live in strange times, the right is growing, intolerance pervades our everyday lives and people feel more isolated, threatened and insecure than ever before. Great art, in whatever shape or form has never in my lifetime been more important than now.
Later Mugs, GJ
Tuesday 4 April 2017
Scandal? What scandal?
Morning Mugs
The latest non scandalous scandal then....David Moyes, the Sunderland manager is currently being tried by the kangaroo court of the British media with Sky News, the normally sane BBC and the media baron owned right wing press blowing the story out of proportion and underpinning the maxim that the more you tell a lire, the more people will believe it.
Now let's get something straight here. I am not misogynist. I am not sexist for the best part, although being male does mean you will unwittingly be sexist from time to time because...well you know, you may hold a door open for a woman, or insist on helping them lift something heavy. If that's institutionalised sexism then so be it. I am not in the habit of demanding a woman 'puts the kettle and and make me a cuppa' .
It transpires that a few weeks ago in a post match interview he make some off the cuff comments to the woman reporter along the lines of
'just watch yourself there, you go a wee bit naughty at the end there.......you might just get a slap even though you're a woman......be careful next time you come here'
Now in the cold display of words on a screen you could make a case for this seeming to be rather sinister. Then you hear this
David Moyes slap comment.
And on listening you can hear something else. Laughter. Yes laughter, from the reporter and from Moyes. In fact so threatened was the reporter that she never actually complained about the comment to anyone. No, in fact someone other bleeding heart decided this 'off air' comment was worthy of being brought to the public's attention , not hours or days but WEEKS later. During which time the reporter had taken a call from Moyes privately, accepted it and decided she didn't want to make any more of it, and to her credit hasn't spoken about it.
But in these days when shifting newsprint is getting more costly and less profitable it gives the papers a chance to colourise the issue and put it on the front pages to elevate it's prominence and therefore start to drive the story even harder, thus inviting comment from right on feminists and pompous sports and columnists across the now strangely and suddenly righteous free press.
I mean it's not like they've spread much hate about lately is it?
Note, the omission of 'right wing' there because even the two remaining left leaning papers The Guardian and The Mirror have picked up on this and decided it's a thing. I've also seen at least two prominent women claiming this was a serious on air threat of violence from a man to a woman. Two women who presumably have no concept of the idea of context?
This was patently nothing more than a bit of banter, a bit of joshing, the sort of thing that is said daily between men whether on the building site, in the office or in the pub.
As I say, I have no truck with violence against women. I pretty much have no truck with violence against men either. Lets just say violence is not my bag shall we? But in a world where women rightly expect to be treated as equals, with equal respect, equal pay, equal rights and equal access to any job, then they should expect equal treatment and then not moan when they are included in an incident like this, that had the reporter been male wouldn't have even grown a toe, let alone legs to be given it's current media prominence.
Later Mugs, GJ
The latest non scandalous scandal then....David Moyes, the Sunderland manager is currently being tried by the kangaroo court of the British media with Sky News, the normally sane BBC and the media baron owned right wing press blowing the story out of proportion and underpinning the maxim that the more you tell a lire, the more people will believe it.
Now let's get something straight here. I am not misogynist. I am not sexist for the best part, although being male does mean you will unwittingly be sexist from time to time because...well you know, you may hold a door open for a woman, or insist on helping them lift something heavy. If that's institutionalised sexism then so be it. I am not in the habit of demanding a woman 'puts the kettle and and make me a cuppa' .
It transpires that a few weeks ago in a post match interview he make some off the cuff comments to the woman reporter along the lines of
'just watch yourself there, you go a wee bit naughty at the end there.......you might just get a slap even though you're a woman......be careful next time you come here'
Now in the cold display of words on a screen you could make a case for this seeming to be rather sinister. Then you hear this
David Moyes slap comment.
And on listening you can hear something else. Laughter. Yes laughter, from the reporter and from Moyes. In fact so threatened was the reporter that she never actually complained about the comment to anyone. No, in fact someone other bleeding heart decided this 'off air' comment was worthy of being brought to the public's attention , not hours or days but WEEKS later. During which time the reporter had taken a call from Moyes privately, accepted it and decided she didn't want to make any more of it, and to her credit hasn't spoken about it.
But in these days when shifting newsprint is getting more costly and less profitable it gives the papers a chance to colourise the issue and put it on the front pages to elevate it's prominence and therefore start to drive the story even harder, thus inviting comment from right on feminists and pompous sports and columnists across the now strangely and suddenly righteous free press.
I mean it's not like they've spread much hate about lately is it?
Note, the omission of 'right wing' there because even the two remaining left leaning papers The Guardian and The Mirror have picked up on this and decided it's a thing. I've also seen at least two prominent women claiming this was a serious on air threat of violence from a man to a woman. Two women who presumably have no concept of the idea of context?
This was patently nothing more than a bit of banter, a bit of joshing, the sort of thing that is said daily between men whether on the building site, in the office or in the pub.
As I say, I have no truck with violence against women. I pretty much have no truck with violence against men either. Lets just say violence is not my bag shall we? But in a world where women rightly expect to be treated as equals, with equal respect, equal pay, equal rights and equal access to any job, then they should expect equal treatment and then not moan when they are included in an incident like this, that had the reporter been male wouldn't have even grown a toe, let alone legs to be given it's current media prominence.
Later Mugs, GJ
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