DECENT COPPERS DON'T GET THANKED ENOUGH.
On Tuesday last we had a telephone call from P.C. Gamble, the police officer who took our statements when we experienced the abortive burglary early this month, to tell us that CCTV footage on the cameras closest to where we live have revealed no sign of any suspiciously sneaking, or obviously fleeing, white-jacketed figure.
Nobody saw anything of the cheeky git or any companion(s) he may have had. He simply disappeared like one of the subjects of the TV series Without a Trace.
He is unresolved history.
Meantime I have not only renewed the security at the back of the house but have opted to double it.
Paul, the nice chap who originally supplied and fitted the garage door, advised me to drill holes through the bottom of the door and continue straight on down for least four inches into the concrete floor. Then drop six inch bolts through.
So when he had repaired the damage that is exactly what I did. If matey tries his arm again he may, with any luck, pull his shoulders out of joint.
The mental insecurity these little bastards cause is incalculable.
Our thanks, though, to P.C. Gamble for his common sense approach to the whole tiresome business.
Decent coppers don't get thanked often enough.
SMILEY'S PEOPLE. (Saturday evenings) (BBC4)
This sequel to John le Carre's Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy is a long awaited repeat.
George Smiley (Alec Guinness) spent almost the entire second part of the two-part opener walking alone, looking about him and being enigmatic.
Made you realize what a damned good actor Guinness was, though.
THE SOPRANOS (Final episode) (E4)
There was an expected flood of fatalities and an unexpected ending.
James Gandolfini (as the overweight, lethal, strangely charismatic Tony Soprano) was watchable until the last second.
His fellow actors were, without exception, superb.
Since its inception in 1999 this HBO production has been universally praised.
Brilliant direction, brilliant background music and meticulous observation ensured its success.
It will be a hard act to follow.
HIS DARK MATERIALS HAS MATERIALIZED.
Clearly I was well adrift with my suggestion that Ken Stott would make a good Lord Asriel in Northern Lights.
The film had already been made and is currently being advertised under the title The Golden Compass.
So, good for Philip Pullman, His Dark Materials has materialized.
I had not heard a murmur until now. Well, I wouldn't have known me Golden Compass from me Northern Lights, anyway, but the other two books will surely follow, with or without their original titles.
Wonder if Iorek Byrnison sounds like Gandalf?
Oh, Daniel Craig plays Lord Asriel.
Sorry, Ken.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Monday, October 22, 2007
89. Dribs and Drabs
ALIBHAI-BROWN v AMIS.
At a slow time for news - and I include the resignation of Sir Menzies Campbell - Martin Amis managed to get himself named and pictured on the front page of The Independent simply by pissing off Yasmin Alibhai - Brown. (Surely not a recommended course of action for any but the most supremely arrogant man.) I would as soon seek serious trouble with my Leader.
Mr. Amis had allegedly made remarks of a Muslim baiting/hating nature which were seized upon by Ms. Alibhai-Brown - who can be quite touchy where such matters are concerned - and she roasted him in her newspaper column.
His reply, in which he blamed Professor Terry Eagleton, a Manchester University colleague, for misrepresenting his views, ("The anti-Muslim measures he says I 'advocated' I merely adumbrated..." Christ!) proclaimed his innocence in a weirdly conciliatory and condescending letter which became the biggest news in The Independent on a slow Friday.
Anyway, since both Ms. Alibhai - Brown and Mr. Amis are featured in Wikipedia, where their differences are mentioned, I will remark only that Yasmin A - B, for all her tendency to professional indignation, remains high on my list of respected people and that I have read none of Martin Amis's work because - to paraphrase Spike Milligan - he wouldn't read any of mine.
Further comment would be superfluous.
THE WEAKEST LINK (POLITICAL SPECIAL)
Ming, why Chris?
He has attracted a bunch of supporters determined to undermine my leadership.
Chris, why Ming?
How can anyone take seriously a man who pronounces his name like a Chinese dynasty? Anyway, it's my turn.
Nick, why Ming?
Well, he's old enough to have founded a Chinese dynasty. He's had his time. The party needs a new image.
So this is not just the back-stabbing treachery of a colourless bunch of juniors?
No...no...no...
Ming, you are the weakest link. Goodbye.
DEBORAH KERR.
The actress Deborah Kerr died on the 16th October aged 86. She was the most (six times) nominated film star never to actually win an Oscar. In her seventies she received an honorary Oscar, a just reward for a beautiful, talented leading lady who over the years carried many, often less deserving, co-stars to glory.
I wonder whether she minded always being remembered for From Here To Eternity?
Surely not.
She was wonderful in it.
WHAT A SILLY PROFESSOR.
Professor James Watson, a 79-year-old geneticist and Nobel Prize winner, has caused one helluva furore with his much publicized view that black people are less intelligent than their white counterparts.
What a silly professor he is.
I wouldn't care if he had found incontrovertible proof of his theory, his silliness lies in the shouting of it from the roof tops.
The grievance brigade, nooses in hand, have rushed to the attack of course.
Better him than me.
That having been said, I feel I should still defend our (fast diminishing) right to free speech.
But then I am too old and cynical to be much influenced by anyone's scientific, religious, or political opinion.
I long ago realized that had I been born with half the brains and talent of a Paul Robeson or a Lord Leary Constantine I would have made far more of my life.
And no redneck in America or snotty little London hotel manager would have objected to my colour.
Well they don't when you're white.
SPORT.
The cat Shadow came into the kitchen and, by way of making conversation, I said: "Haven't heard much from you lately."
He gave me a questioning look.
"Well you generally have some comment on the sport," I added. "But we've had the England soccer and rugger games and Lewis Hamilton's Formula One championship bid and you haven't said a thing."
He turned about and exited, cat flap, kitchen door.
"Know what you mean," I shouted as the flap swung shut behind him.
At a slow time for news - and I include the resignation of Sir Menzies Campbell - Martin Amis managed to get himself named and pictured on the front page of The Independent simply by pissing off Yasmin Alibhai - Brown. (Surely not a recommended course of action for any but the most supremely arrogant man.) I would as soon seek serious trouble with my Leader.
Mr. Amis had allegedly made remarks of a Muslim baiting/hating nature which were seized upon by Ms. Alibhai-Brown - who can be quite touchy where such matters are concerned - and she roasted him in her newspaper column.
His reply, in which he blamed Professor Terry Eagleton, a Manchester University colleague, for misrepresenting his views, ("The anti-Muslim measures he says I 'advocated' I merely adumbrated..." Christ!) proclaimed his innocence in a weirdly conciliatory and condescending letter which became the biggest news in The Independent on a slow Friday.
Anyway, since both Ms. Alibhai - Brown and Mr. Amis are featured in Wikipedia, where their differences are mentioned, I will remark only that Yasmin A - B, for all her tendency to professional indignation, remains high on my list of respected people and that I have read none of Martin Amis's work because - to paraphrase Spike Milligan - he wouldn't read any of mine.
Further comment would be superfluous.
THE WEAKEST LINK (POLITICAL SPECIAL)
Ming, why Chris?
He has attracted a bunch of supporters determined to undermine my leadership.
Chris, why Ming?
How can anyone take seriously a man who pronounces his name like a Chinese dynasty? Anyway, it's my turn.
Nick, why Ming?
Well, he's old enough to have founded a Chinese dynasty. He's had his time. The party needs a new image.
So this is not just the back-stabbing treachery of a colourless bunch of juniors?
No...no...no...
Ming, you are the weakest link. Goodbye.
DEBORAH KERR.
The actress Deborah Kerr died on the 16th October aged 86. She was the most (six times) nominated film star never to actually win an Oscar. In her seventies she received an honorary Oscar, a just reward for a beautiful, talented leading lady who over the years carried many, often less deserving, co-stars to glory.
I wonder whether she minded always being remembered for From Here To Eternity?
Surely not.
She was wonderful in it.
WHAT A SILLY PROFESSOR.
Professor James Watson, a 79-year-old geneticist and Nobel Prize winner, has caused one helluva furore with his much publicized view that black people are less intelligent than their white counterparts.
What a silly professor he is.
I wouldn't care if he had found incontrovertible proof of his theory, his silliness lies in the shouting of it from the roof tops.
The grievance brigade, nooses in hand, have rushed to the attack of course.
Better him than me.
That having been said, I feel I should still defend our (fast diminishing) right to free speech.
But then I am too old and cynical to be much influenced by anyone's scientific, religious, or political opinion.
I long ago realized that had I been born with half the brains and talent of a Paul Robeson or a Lord Leary Constantine I would have made far more of my life.
And no redneck in America or snotty little London hotel manager would have objected to my colour.
Well they don't when you're white.
SPORT.
The cat Shadow came into the kitchen and, by way of making conversation, I said: "Haven't heard much from you lately."
He gave me a questioning look.
"Well you generally have some comment on the sport," I added. "But we've had the England soccer and rugger games and Lewis Hamilton's Formula One championship bid and you haven't said a thing."
He turned about and exited, cat flap, kitchen door.
"Know what you mean," I shouted as the flap swung shut behind him.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
88. A burglar, an actor, two losses and a win.
A BIT OF A SHOCK.
One evening a week or so back we were sitting at ease in our living room when there was an almighty crash at the back of the house.
"What the hell was that?" I wondered as I headed for the kitchen.
When I found out it was a bit of a shock.
In the sideway leading from the back door of the garage to the courtyard I made out a (probably teenage) figure.
He registered my appearance at the same moment I saw him and he turned tail.
We keep the kitchen door locked so by the time I had recovered the key and made my way outside he was well gone. The garage light was on and he had kicked open its locked back door, smashing the rimlock in the process. That had been the cause of the almighty crash. The actual garage door (electric) had been prised halfway up and dislodged from its runner on the mechanism side.
The road beyond was empty. It runs alongside our terrace and there are no houses opposite, just a church wall.
My language stripped leaves off the trees in the churchyard.
I have never been much of a tough guy but had I been a few years younger and got my hands on him he'd have received a bloody good thumping.
Would have done no good, though. I'd have been charged with assault and the thieving little bastard would have got away with a caution.
Oh. we gave statements to a very decent young policeman and I guess that will be the end of it.
Anyway, you can't really cure thieves.
Back when I was an army boy a thief was caught in the act by his room-mates. They summarily stamped on his hands. Months later he was discovered to be stealing from the NAAFI shop and was discharged from the service. When his kit was checked and packed it was found to contain items of equipment belonging to just about every other boy in his barrack room.
No, you can't cure them.
But sometimes, awfully, I think the Arabs had the right idea.
AN ACTOR'S (BETWEEN DRAGS) VIEWPOINT.
According to the 29 September - 5 October edition of my ultimate digital TV and radio guide, Ken Stott, who plays Detective Inspector John Rebus, has decided that four months of dead bodies at a time has become too harrowing. It seems he may do something along the lines of a two-hour Rebus The Opera, Rebus On Ice or Rebus Christmas Special (my definitions, not his) in the future, but doubts he will do another series.
All this was conveyed between breaks taken for a quick drag at a cigarette.
Asked whether a role in a Harry Potter film would be of interest to him he made it very clear that it would not. It seems his viewpoint is that the Potter books are overrated and that if we are going to encourage children to read books it should be to read Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials, not J.K.Rowling.
Oh dear.
Perhaps, when the Pullman stories are eventually filmed, he will be sought to join the cast of Northern Lights, The Subtle Knife and The Amber Spyglass. (Probably given the title Dark Materials 1, 2 and 3 by some genius.) He would make a splendid Lord Asriel. But he should take care if the producers are the Disney organization. He could find himself spending an entire series with Goofy or Donald Duck as his daemon and that would do little for his dignity.
I mock lightly.
This is a man who can walk alone down an empty beach, stand looking out to sea, and keep your interest throughout the entire mundane manoeuvre.
This is an actor.
EGGHEADS (BBC2)
Recently their winning run ended and the Eggheads saw £75000 handed over to a team of Oxford undergraduates. Better that than handing it to a team of lawyers or politicians, I suppose.
Oh, the challengers had only two team members left at the end, but they chose to be asked the first batch of questions (there's a surprise), struggled with the fact, but eventually guessed, that Nicosia was further south than Valetta and (what a surprise!) the Eggheads were then posed a question regarding how many States in America still carry the death penalty...38, 18 or 8?
They guessed 8. They should have guessed 38. My guess is that fewer than five out of 303 million Americans would have had the slightest idea.
I have experienced a sensation of deja vu, too.
I started to believe these programmes to be repeats when, £3,000 after that big loss, a bunch from Preston appeared and, lo and behold, the Eggheads were beaten again. There was something much too familiar about it. That's the trouble with being a goggle box gazer, you are sometimes sure you have seen it all before. Could be imagination. Could be coincidence. Could just be that you have. Who cares?
But it really is time the format was changed.
And the presenter!
MATCH OF THE DAY LIVE: (BBC1)
(England v Estonia - 13th October 2007)
The cat Shadow had predicted 'the same sort of win as last time' and, airing the view that England was still only a first half team, had gone to sleep.
Fortunately we had a welcome and unexpected guest who not only knows her football but has the added bonus of a ready sense of humour.
Just before the end of the game, with Englad 3 - 0 in the lead, she remarked dryly: "I think they should give Man of the Match to that Estonian who scored the marvellous own goal."
Now that really is a guest worth welcoming.
One evening a week or so back we were sitting at ease in our living room when there was an almighty crash at the back of the house.
"What the hell was that?" I wondered as I headed for the kitchen.
When I found out it was a bit of a shock.
In the sideway leading from the back door of the garage to the courtyard I made out a (probably teenage) figure.
He registered my appearance at the same moment I saw him and he turned tail.
We keep the kitchen door locked so by the time I had recovered the key and made my way outside he was well gone. The garage light was on and he had kicked open its locked back door, smashing the rimlock in the process. That had been the cause of the almighty crash. The actual garage door (electric) had been prised halfway up and dislodged from its runner on the mechanism side.
The road beyond was empty. It runs alongside our terrace and there are no houses opposite, just a church wall.
My language stripped leaves off the trees in the churchyard.
I have never been much of a tough guy but had I been a few years younger and got my hands on him he'd have received a bloody good thumping.
Would have done no good, though. I'd have been charged with assault and the thieving little bastard would have got away with a caution.
Oh. we gave statements to a very decent young policeman and I guess that will be the end of it.
Anyway, you can't really cure thieves.
Back when I was an army boy a thief was caught in the act by his room-mates. They summarily stamped on his hands. Months later he was discovered to be stealing from the NAAFI shop and was discharged from the service. When his kit was checked and packed it was found to contain items of equipment belonging to just about every other boy in his barrack room.
No, you can't cure them.
But sometimes, awfully, I think the Arabs had the right idea.
AN ACTOR'S (BETWEEN DRAGS) VIEWPOINT.
According to the 29 September - 5 October edition of my ultimate digital TV and radio guide, Ken Stott, who plays Detective Inspector John Rebus, has decided that four months of dead bodies at a time has become too harrowing. It seems he may do something along the lines of a two-hour Rebus The Opera, Rebus On Ice or Rebus Christmas Special (my definitions, not his) in the future, but doubts he will do another series.
All this was conveyed between breaks taken for a quick drag at a cigarette.
Asked whether a role in a Harry Potter film would be of interest to him he made it very clear that it would not. It seems his viewpoint is that the Potter books are overrated and that if we are going to encourage children to read books it should be to read Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials, not J.K.Rowling.
Oh dear.
Perhaps, when the Pullman stories are eventually filmed, he will be sought to join the cast of Northern Lights, The Subtle Knife and The Amber Spyglass. (Probably given the title Dark Materials 1, 2 and 3 by some genius.) He would make a splendid Lord Asriel. But he should take care if the producers are the Disney organization. He could find himself spending an entire series with Goofy or Donald Duck as his daemon and that would do little for his dignity.
I mock lightly.
This is a man who can walk alone down an empty beach, stand looking out to sea, and keep your interest throughout the entire mundane manoeuvre.
This is an actor.
EGGHEADS (BBC2)
Recently their winning run ended and the Eggheads saw £75000 handed over to a team of Oxford undergraduates. Better that than handing it to a team of lawyers or politicians, I suppose.
Oh, the challengers had only two team members left at the end, but they chose to be asked the first batch of questions (there's a surprise), struggled with the fact, but eventually guessed, that Nicosia was further south than Valetta and (what a surprise!) the Eggheads were then posed a question regarding how many States in America still carry the death penalty...38, 18 or 8?
They guessed 8. They should have guessed 38. My guess is that fewer than five out of 303 million Americans would have had the slightest idea.
I have experienced a sensation of deja vu, too.
I started to believe these programmes to be repeats when, £3,000 after that big loss, a bunch from Preston appeared and, lo and behold, the Eggheads were beaten again. There was something much too familiar about it. That's the trouble with being a goggle box gazer, you are sometimes sure you have seen it all before. Could be imagination. Could be coincidence. Could just be that you have. Who cares?
But it really is time the format was changed.
And the presenter!
MATCH OF THE DAY LIVE: (BBC1)
(England v Estonia - 13th October 2007)
The cat Shadow had predicted 'the same sort of win as last time' and, airing the view that England was still only a first half team, had gone to sleep.
Fortunately we had a welcome and unexpected guest who not only knows her football but has the added bonus of a ready sense of humour.
Just before the end of the game, with Englad 3 - 0 in the lead, she remarked dryly: "I think they should give Man of the Match to that Estonian who scored the marvellous own goal."
Now that really is a guest worth welcoming.
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