Glob-a-log

I’ve always had mixed feelings about Texas.

On the one hand, it’s the actual home of Kinky Friedman, front man of the legendary Texas Jew Boys and writer of superbly funny detective stories, featuring a puppet’s head, a lesbian dance class, cigars and a perfectly grumpy cat…

… but, on the other paw, it’s the spiritual birth place of George Bush.

So, what to make of Texas?

Or, perhaps more to the point, what to desperately avoid eating in Texas?

As the following story makes clear:

“A chef in Texas has created what he claims is the world’s first recipe for deep-fried beer. The beer is placed inside a pocket of salty, pretzel-like dough and then dunked in oil at 375 degrees for about 20 seconds, a short enough time for the confection to remain alcoholic. When diners take a bite the hot beer mixes with the dough in what is claimed to be a delicious taste sensation. His deep-fried beer will be officially unveiled in a fried food competition at the Texas state fair later this month.”

By the way, those who think deep-fried beer has no chance in Hell to win any fried food competition may be as sadly delusional as the people who thought George Bush had the same chance of ‘winning’ the presidency (twice.)

As this quote, taken from the same article, shows:

“Last year’s winner of the Texas state fair fried food competition was a recipe for deep-fried butter.”

Still, however distasteful deep-fried beer or butter may be, today’s newspapers saw many stories that were much harder to swallow…

… like the one about Tony Blair and his bloody memoir, in which he stands by his decision to invade Iraq but regrets banning fox hunting.

(A lot of dead Iraqis would agree it’s a pity he never ran for the presidency…)

Brilliant:

“Viewers want more access to interactive TV in the future including the ability to influence plots in programmes, a survey has revealed. The YouGov poll, which questioned more than 2,000 people, found 69% of people wanted live voting to alter storylines in shows.”

So, the system that exposed us week after week to John Sergeant in Strictly Come Dancing…

… and launched the career of ABBA by way of the Eurovision Song Contest…

… and made Adolf Hitler Reichskanzler…

… will now be responsible for plot lines on TV.

It’s a pity I threw out my own TV, some ten years ago – and even more of a pity that they didn’t come up with this bright idea, some 400 years ago, come to think of it.

I would have loved to see the following scene play out in the original Globe theatre:

Stagehand One: Mr William, sir, the audience doesn’t like it…

W.S.: Now what?!

Stagehand Two: It’s the duel, sir.

W.S.: What’s wrong with the damned duel?!

Stagehand One: They don’t like the poisoned sword, sir.

W.S.: For fuck’s sake! They didn’t like the ghost…

Stagehand Three: Too scary, sir.

W.S.: They didn’t approve of the drowning…

Stagehand One: Too sad, sir.

W.S.: They hated the stabbing…

Stagehand Three: They really liked his ‘neither a borrower nor a lender be’ speech, sir.

W.S.: That Was A Fucking Parody! Polonius is a boring oaf. Are these people totally stupid?

Stagehand Two: They do pay the license fee, sir.

W.S.: What?!

Stagehand One: He means the tickets, sir – I think…

W.S.: Never mind. Oh well, so now we have Ophelia married to Polonius – while our hero was told about his father’s death by a fucking angel…

Stagehand One: They liked the angel, sir…

Stagehand Three: And they wept when the hero gave his best man’s speech!

W.S.: Another bit of satire wasted on those sods. Now, why don’t they want the poisoned sword?

Stagehand One: They don’t want young Hamlet to die, sir.

Stagehand Three: Not after that speech, sir.

Stagehand Two: They really want a happy ending, sir.

W.S.: Right…

Stagehand Two: You can do it, sir!

W.S.: Right…

Stagehand One: Maybe he could marry Ophelia…

Stagehand Three: She’s already married to Polonius, remember?

Stagehand One: Oh, yes. Pity, that.

Stagehand Two: Polonius could die, I suppose?

W.S.: What, like having that angel fall on him from great height?

Stagehand One: Oh, brilliant, sir!

Stagehand Three: Brilliant!

Stagehand Two: Absolutely brilliant!

W.S.: Yes, yes, yes, I get it. So, the audience will go for that?

Stagehand Two: I’m sure they will.

W.S.: And I suppose I should let Polonius give a speech, with his dying breath, beseeching the two to honour his memory by marrying each other?

Stagehand One: Yes…!

Stagehand Two: Yess…!!

Stagehand Three: Yesss…!!!

I really can’t wait…

Oh well…:

“A porcelain lavatory which John Lennon told a builder to use as a “plant pot” has fetched £9,500 – nearly 10 times its guide price – at an auction today. The loo was used by the music legend when he lived at Tittenhurst Park in Berkshire between 1969 and 1972.”

Ten times the guide price, perhaps but still not much to write home about.

Which goes to show that even celebrity alchemy can’t turn shit into gold, all of the time.

Of course, things would have been different if this lavatory hadn’t been used as a plant pot by its former famous owner.

Imagine what the bloody thing would have gone for if Lennon had done a Presley on it.

Which goes to show (part deux) that death outsells flower (power) pots, every day of the week.

Hell, I suppose even one of those five hollow-point rounds that killed Lennon would have raised more money in auction.

Which goes to show (part trois) that we truly live in a very sick joke of a world.

Sic transit gloria flowerpoweris, or some such.

(I prefer this version but YouTube won’t let me embed it…)

(Love is in the air…?)

The Iranian government truly is the columnist’s gift that keeps on giving.

It feels like only yesterday that I last mentioned Mahmoud Ahmadinejad and his happy gang of psychopaths – meaning I’m only wrong by two days…

… whereas the Iranian government is about two millennia removed from the cultural mindset that gave us the international declaration of human rights…

… and at an approximately two light years’ distance from any place where they sell Germaine Greer’s ‘The Female Eunuch’…

… or Garfield and Odie mugs:

“Fresh from banning women from watching wrestling, and men from sporting mullet hairstyles, the Iranian regime is now targeting a new source of Western subversion: dogs and cats. All advertisements for pets, pet shops, pet food and other pet products are to be prohibited, the powerful Ministry of Culture and Islamic Guidance has announced.”

Which leaves me with one rather intriguing question:

Does anyone out there reading this know if our good friend Mahmoud is still a bachelor? Or, if not, whether he’s looking for an add-on wife?

If so, I think I have found the perfect bride for him…:

(Meet the future Mary Ahmadinejad, née Bale…)

Okay, so, yesterday, I read in the Guardian that the BBC will broadcast an adaptation of Douglas Adams’s ‘Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency.’

Which is great news. I’m a big fan of Douglas Adams and, though I’m sure the vast majority of the Adams Appreciation Society will call it sacrilege, I rate his two Dirk Gently novels even higher than the five parts of his Hitchhiker’s trilogy. Five, yes, not six: Fuck off, Eoin Colfer.

Right, sorry about that. So, great news, only slightly – okay, wildly – spoilt by the announcement, in the same article, that said channel will also do an opera based on a dead Playboy model:

“BBC4 is to broadcast an opera based on the turbulent life of the former Playboy model, Anna Nicole Smith. Anna Nicole – The Opera will dramatise the life of Smith, who married oil tycoon J Howard Marshall, more than 60 years her senior, in 1994 and then after his death the following year was drawn into a lengthy legal battle over the settlement of his estate. Smith died of a prescription drugs overdose in 2007, aged 39.”

How nice.

By the way, the fact that the book of one of the most popular writers in his field (a field of one, most of his ardent fans would claim) was only mentioned as an aside in the above article, of which the leading photo and headline solely dealt with the late ‘model’, would probably have made Douglas Adams smile…

… and the following quote by BBC4 controller, Richard Klein, would have the wry bones of the creator of Arthur Dent et al rolling in his grave – with laughter:

“BBC4 is the channel that seeks to offer television to those parts of the brain that other television channels don’t reach.

Indeed.

‘I love the smell of napalm in the morning’ doesn’t quite have the same je ne sais quoi as ‘I love the smell of exhumed bunny meat’.

It would make for a great corporate slogan, though: ‘BBC Zombie4, going for those parts of the brain others don’t reach.’

You would think this following car journey would be the worst bit of A to B travelling since that irritating whistle moving from the one side to the other side of the bridge on the river Kwai…:

“Thousands of drivers on the Beijing-Tibet Expressway just outside the Chinese capital have been snared by roadworks ever since 14 August – and the disruption is expected to last a further month. The tailbacks now stretch for a mind-boggling 100km and 400 police officers have been assigned to the area to quell rising tensions, with impromptu vendors said to be charging exorbitant prices for tea and noodles.”

… but there you would be wrong – terribly wrong.

Granted, it can’t be fun to be locked inside a car for more than a month, having to exchange your last gold filling for a piece of overcooked noodle that may or may not fill this reopened hole…

… but that would still be Heaven compared to the following journey:

“Some literary fans show their dedication to a particular author by traipsing to book signings or festivals; others track down elusive first editions. Nick Newcomen went a little further than most, spending a month driving more than 12,000 miles to inscribe his message – “Read Ayn Rand” – on a vast swath of US land. “She is the only modern author and thinker to offer ideas that have the potential and power to genuinely reshape the world for the better,” he said.”

I mean, just imagine being locked inside the same car, for 12,000 fucking miles, with this right wing nutcase – or even worse: inside his claustrophobically small-minded skull…

(Unbalanced, indeed…)

(Those were the days, my friend…)

Fucking baby boomers:

“If you’re about to become a grandparent - or about to make grandparents out of your parents by having a child of your own – you’ve most likely thought about what the upcoming child will call you or your parents. Of course, there’s the traditional “Grandma” and “Grandpa,” which works well for many people. But others feel they want a younger-sounding name or one that’s more personalized. So, how do you pick the perfect grandparent name?”

Not that their fame & fortune obsessed children and grandchildren make for much better company:

“Fans of The X Factor are falling off their sofas after learning that Jedward may be even less talented than they appear. The most popular programme on TV, which returned for a new series on Saturday, is at the centre of a revolt after the show’s producers confessed to using technology to iron out wobbles in contestants’ voices. Auto-Tune allows singers to perform perfectly, regardless of their ability to hold a note.”

All of which would almost be reason enough to start a Facebook account and ‘friend’ Iran’s vice-president, Mohammad-Reza Rahimi, who recently made the news here when he was even less complimentary about the British people than his boss, the all-sensible & charming humanitarian Mahmoud Ahmadinejad:

“The British people and David Cameron have been labelled ‘thick’ by a senior member of Iran’s government.”

Well, duh…, but please continue:

“In a blistering diatribe against Britain, Mohammad-Reza Rahimi said: ‘They have plundered the world in the last 500 years…”

We’ll give you that. Do go on:

“…and the young lad in charge now is even more stupid than his predecessor.”

Hang on, now; that’s not altogether fair…!

“It’s as if God has made this nation servants of America and Zionists.’”

Yeah, yeah, yeah: We know. Perfidious Albion; no homosexuals in Iran; Great Satan; Holocaust never happened; Britney Spears bad, stoning good…

“Iran’s First Vice President added: ‘England has nothing. Its inhabitants are not human, its officials are not responsible, and it doesn’t even have any natural resources. (They are) a bunch of thick people ruled by a mafia.’”

Ah, well. For a few moments it seemed that our mister Mohammad-Reza Rahimi did have something sensible to say…

… but all that this diatribe shows is that old Mahmoud has taken a clever leaf from papa Bush’s book: When you know that perhaps not the whole world is all that fond of you, make sure that any armed dissenter knows that the guy waiting in the wings is far worse.

So, meet the new not-quite-boss yet, same as the old not-quite-boss-yet: Mohammad-Reza Rahimi is the new Dan Quayle.

(Yeah, yeah, I know: dreadful – but I would welcome an ‘auto tune’ thingie for politicians…)

A few days ago, I was in a slightly melancholic mood (plus, I was bored) so, I translated a Rilke poem from his ‘Sonette an Orpheus’ into English. Here goes:

Quiet friend of countless distances, feel

how your breath enlarges this room.

Ring through the wood of sombre belfries.

What drains you will sustain your strength.

Travel the roads that lead to transformation.

What is your most hurtful experience?

When your draught is bitter, become wine.

In this night be boundless magic

at the crossroads of your senses,

a strange meeting of mind.

And if the world forgets you,

say to the quiet earth: I run.

Say to the rapid stream: I am.

Now, or a few minutes ago, I read that yesterday it was Ray Bradbury’s birthday.

I’m good at missing birthdays.

Anyway, I’ve always loved Bradbury’s stories. Some were truly scary, lots were very funny. The books ‘Something wicked this way comes’ and ‘Dandelion wine’ are my favourites but he has written so much that’s perfectly wonderful.

‘Green shadows, white whale’, for instance, about the period he stayed in Ireland, where he wrestled with Melville and found out it wasn’t all that easy to be John Huston’s script writer.

Enough about that though – and back to Rilke, sort of. That is, in that poem, there’s talk of magic, crossroads, transformations and, yes, an almost pervasive sense of melancholy…

… and those are all themes that come back, again and again, in Bradbury’s stories.

Of course, Rilke didn’t have much of a sense of humour, so it would be wrong to let him set the tone of this birthday card.

So, thank you, mister Rilke, for getting this show on the road but I will now hand the microphone to someone else – someone a bit less into those sombre belfries.

A Hell of a lot less, in fact – but I’m sure the author of ‘A graveyard for lunatics’ and ‘Driving blind’ won’t mind.

Happy (yes, I know I’m late) birthday, mister Bradbury – and thank you again (and again and again) for all the stories, all those hours of (re)reading bliss. Here’s hoping for another decade of more of the same magic.

Take it away, Rachel…:



(Jawallaheh: For all bloody nutters…)

Interesting:

“One of the most prestigious figures in Scots law is calling on the country’s courts to take biblical teachings into account when administering justice. Former Conservative Cabinet member Lord Mackay of Clashfern, who served as Lord Chancellor under Margaret Thatcher and John Major as well as holding the post of Scotland’s Lord Advocate, is fronting a campaign which will see bibles sent to every court in the land.”

Yes, we do so need judges to get all Biblical in our court rooms. Wouldn’t the world be a much happier place if we all followed these simple laws from Leviticus 20: 9-16…?

[9] For every one that curseth his father or his mother shall be surely put to death: he hath cursed his father or his mother; his blood shall be upon him.
[10] And the man that committeth adultery with another man’s wife, even he that committeth adultery with his neighbour’s wife, the adulterer and the adulteress shall surely be put to death.
[11] And the man that lieth with his father’s wife hath uncovered his father’s nakedness: both of them shall surely be put to death; their blood shall be upon them.
[12] And if a man lie with his daughter in law, both of them shall surely be put to death: they have wrought confusion; their blood shall be upon them.
[13] If a man also lie with mankind, as he lieth with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination: they shall surely be put to death; their blood shall be upon them.
[14] And if a man take a wife and her mother, it is wickedness: they shall be burnt with fire, both he and they; that there be no wickedness among you.
[15] And if a man lie with a beast, he shall surely be put to death: and ye shall slay the beast.
[16] And if a woman approach unto any beast, and lie down thereto, thou shalt kill the woman, and the beast: they shall surely be put to death; their blood shall be upon them.

Et bloody cetera.

Of course, this newly reintroduced set of old laws would make it harder for the likes of Jerry Springer, Jeremy Kyle, the makers of Big brother and all of the tabloids to engage with the punters in any profitable way…

… but that would, indeed, be a small price to pay – and we could always show the executions live on TV, lest the feelings of the voyeuristic would be hurt in the evangelical process…

… though it would be a Hell of a lot easier if the good Lord Mackay of Clashfern simply moved to Saudi Arabia, where his religious soul brothers & ethical kinsmen dwell:

“A Saudi judge has asked several hospitals whether they would punitively damage a man’s spinal cord after he was convicted of attacking another man with a cleaver and paralysing him, local newspapers reported today. Saudi Arabia enforces strict sharia law and occasionally metes out punishments based on the ancient code of an eye for an eye.”

It’s such a pity that we, in the West, barring a few zealous Lords, don’t have this same moral rectitude.

Otherwise, we would repay the religious Saudi leaders in this same bloody coin, by subsidizing faith schools all over the world, that would teach millions of children how to make roadside bombs and suicide belts and send them on their way with a bit of travel money, a one-way ticket, a map of Saudi Arabia and the addresses of all Saudi royals, imams and judges…

… but we won’t, ’cause we are a bunch of infidels who don’t follow the laws of Allah (the Glorious and Exalted) and His Prophet (Peace Be Upon Him) and simply refuse to accept that Islam is the only truly peaceful religion on earth.

(As Jesus said: The imbeciles will always be with us…)

Meet Joumana Haddad, my new heroine – someone I had not even heard of till I read an article about her in today’s Guardian.

So, in today’s ‘Thought For The Day’ two of those, for the prize of one. Thank you, Haddad:

“”These backward-looking obscurantists” – Arab defenders of chastity – “are thieves. They are desecrators. They are murderers. And, on top of everything, they are stupid. And this is perhaps the cruellest blow.”

Indeed – and this one rings a familiar bell too:

””The Arab mind is in crisis. And because of this it wants everyone to be in crisis with it … The Arab mind cannot handle questions, because questions can hurt and upset the murky calm of the swamp.””

Irshad Manji

Richard Dawkins

John Gray (no, not that one!)

Ayaan Hirshi Ali

Christopher Hitchens

Philip Pullman…

… and now Joumana Haddad. Life can be good.

So, if you don’t mind, I’m off to see if I can order her books online.