Silly Season

A bit of warmth, but an autumn wind in the air. It is still the silly season for news though. Last night's 10 o'clock news had a feature on how there is still peace in Northern Ireland. Good news, but a bit of a sign that not a lot else is happening.

The Mighty Reds, having disposed of Toulouse in old Big Ears, have got Porto, Marseille and Beskitas. Could have been worse. But realistically you would expect the top seeds to get through. Given that that is the 4 English clubs, the 2 Milans and Real and Barca, I can see how UEFA are beginning to think the system needs a shake up.

Jim Shooter going back to LoSH? That would be news (for about a thousand of us worldwide).

Version

Stop me if you think that you've heard this one before. Can't get it out of my head. Like the Go! Team I am thinking of it as a form of brain cancer, when it is just a very sucessful meme.
Back to work, and soon the breadcrumbs will be back at school. Time for the Boo Radleys - "summers gone..."

The boy who cried at Happy Birthday

A refugee from About a boy was at the Breadcrumb's birthday party. He had a handmade jumper, hand made cards and present, and cried at loud noises. He was a vegetarian. Poor lamb - a world of pain awaits. The world of children, who are cruel and relentless.

Other than that a success. Though the divisions between the kids from the schemes and the kids from the middle classes grow bigger by the day. As do the number of single parents. We fit in and don't fit in with all of them.

Breadcrumb Day

Do you mean you don't celebrate Breadcrumb Day?

One more year and they can say "now we are 6".

You are old father time

The breadcrumbs reach 5 tomorrow, but we are holding back celebrations till Thursday. Luckily they are still too young to realise that they are being conned.

As was referee Rob Stiles on Sunday when he gave Chelsea a penalty at Anfield for Malouda throwing himself at Steve Finnan. At least he has apologised, but a probable win has been turned into a disappointing draw.

I was not there because I was learning valuable life lessons at Centre Parcs. The first of these is that the breadcrumbs are heavy, and the second is that I am not a golfer. My first ever driving practice left the shed peppered with dents, and the driving range miraculously untroubled by golf balls. It was a laugh though. And now I ache, ache, ache. All over.

Slow learner/Partition

Having discovered Portishead about a decade later, I would now like to go even further back and finally declare Loveless by My Bloody Valentine one of the great albums of all time. I've always loved Soon, but I think that I was resentful of them damaging my hearing on the Rollercoaster tour (Mary chain, MBV, Dinosaur Jnr and Blur. Yes, that Blur). 1 minute of pure noise is a cleanser for the palatte. 10 minutes is industrial noise damage. Anyway, thanks to the randomness of I-tunes I have been getting odd blasts of MBV which then carve permanent tracks into my brain. Listening to the whole thing at fuck off stupid noise it just works. Next I will be declaring my love for Wire, and going back to 1977 to start all over. (Can you spot the link pop pickers?

Changing tracks disconcertingly, watched a programme on the Partition of India. God, what a sad affair. The saddest thing was watching an old Sikh talking about his father and uncle beheading all the women in the family because of the risk of them being captured and raped by Muslims. How unspeakable. And apparently carried out in silence, with the women co-operating. The Father started with his own daughter. Makes you wonder about the human race. The one bright bit was a Hindi refugee from Lahore, who rather than blaming the Muslims, blamed Hindus for mistreating them in the first place leading to them wanting their own country. But Pakistan was forged in blood, and not got much happier since. Religion is a blight on the face of the planet. Human beings just can't get the "love one another" bit, and use it as an excuse for killing. And killing in revenge. And then killing because they killed us.

Thank God I am an atheist.

AHW RIP

Anthony H Wilson, late of Factory records, is now late. And Manchester is the lesser for it.


He changed my life by showing me the Sex Pistols, and then signing Joy Division. I never made it to the Hacienda - too shy. Which sounds oddly like Morrisey.


So now that generation is passing or gone - Wilson, Curtis, Hannett and Gretton. Odd firm of accountants. Never good with money. Or rather, never good at keeping it. Tony Wilson's obiturary should probably be that Factory record's HQ had the first Zinc roof in Manchester. But you could only see it from a helicopter. Sums it all up.
I can't explain but it is very Manchester.



Last night I heard an acoustic version of Love will Tear us Apart on Grey's anatomy, the No.1 show in the USA. I still can't understand why either Joy Division where not huge in 1980, or seem to have become so now. A Velvet Underground for a different generation.

Mindless

Group of asian youths went along the street and kicked in all the driver's side mirrors at 2:10am. Pointles, mindless and expensive for me, my asian neighbour, my 90 year old neighbour, my single mother neighbour and at least one other (don't know whose car it is).

Not a good start to the day.

Like a Motorway

One of my favourite tracks ever - a remix of Like a Motorway by St. Etienne. Not really my cup of tea at all. What it reminds me of is a drunken night in Belgium with a group of friends where we dramatically overestimated the number of limes needed for Margharitas, and emptied the local supermarket. Weended up drinking Tequilla until we had finished the limes. The rest of the weekend is a bit of a blur to be honest - apart from a vision of six of us lying on one double bed watching MTV ambient at 4am. Sounds just like this track. Honest.

Meanwhile, in real life - why do I get a cold when the weather finally turns nice?