Fair Exchange

Be Bop Deluxe. The joy of i-tunes. This still summons up 1973 for me, and a battered 45 that I made a sleeve for out of a couple of adverts in the NME.
Also, still on the retro kick, finally watched the last 3 episodes of Angel. I find David Boreanez difficult to like, because he so obviously thinks that this is beneath him. The rest is just fantastic, and the sparring between Angel and Spike wonderful. I hadn't seen the Ilyria episodes, and so had not realised what an excellent actress Amy Acker is. Honestly. The Fred thing is not the limit of her abilities. And delightful to see Alec Baldwin again, even if he is basically playing Jane in a suit. Browncoats will understand.

Meanwhile, another payday has rolled around. Damn you George W Bush. Will you stop driving the dollar down? Some of us have to take them home to countries with real currencies.

Going over old ground

Am back in the land of the future present, where the world's tallest building is still taking shape. Curiously though, I am revisiting old DVD favourites. Ok, I know these things are self-evident but Farscape, Serenity and Buffy are really good. Honest.

So far failed to source dodgy bootleg Dr Who DVDs, so the breadcrumbs are looking at disappointment. Still at least they can have fun building Arks again. Blighty is sinking, and me, I live by the river... ok, no I don't.

So, being retro - here is Chriss Foss. The way the future used to look.

Philanthropy/Yellow Ribbon

Well, I'm going home as soon as I eat my tea, have a shower, finish this blog and pack. Easy for 35 minutes...

So, I was thinking. Mainly because of an articlein Psychology Today of 10 politically incorrect truths, that there is probably no such thing as philanthropy. We are all the same gene machines, and anything any of us does to save the planet will help our genes along too. So, every do-gooder is really selfish. Just pointing it out...

Life's great imponderables

Why does every allegedly international hotel have to have a coctail bar with some national signing songs they have learnt phoentically in an endlessly booming karoake of the damned?
What is wrong with silence? Or piped music? Or god forbid, something that might actually reflect where you are?

Meanwhile in my so called glamourous life, why is it so hard of hotels to sort out the internet connections that they charge us an arm and leg for?

But these are rich person's complaints, which are shown up as rather hollow when I read about the construction workers in Dubai earning 500dh per month. That is £70, or $140. Per month. And they send money home from that.

Punch up at the 7-11

Unkansas. So there I am at the check out, slowly losing the will to live, when these two guys come pushing and shoving up the steps to the door. Suddenly one lamps the other, who falls down, and follows it up with a kick to the groin. No mean feat on slippery steps. Then both parties run off into the night, while the youths on the steps beat a rhythm on the steps with bottles, showing that they could easily be broken into weapons. So what is the protocol for this?

I've been trying to avoid there being forever a corner of a foreign field that is forever an English pedestrian by obeying the crossing signals. But that does not save you from motherfuckers on motorbikes going the wrong way up 4 lane one way streets, with no lights, against the signals. I mean, what does?

I'm not really abroad, but in Crowne Plaza world. The third world is just around the corner, but in here we are in the first world. And beer is reassuringly expensive. For the hotel that is. For me it is just prohibitive.

Hijabs and hookers. More than one culture clash. But me I am in a cocoon.

Wake up Boo

Genetics is an odd thing. Junior Miss Breadcrumb naturally shares a genetic mix with Kid A. Sadly for all concerned, Kid A, Mrs Breadwinner and me are all predisposed to lying in late. Jnr Miss takes after her grandmother, and Mrs Breadwinner's sisters, and believes that the best of the day is done by 7am. This is going to be a drag for a long, long time. For all of us.

Funnily enough, Jnr miss realises that she takes after Gran - and told me that she looks like Gran. Kid A took himself off to look in a mirror, and announced that he looked like Uncle Simon.
Me and Mrs Breadwinner will be having words...

All but an ark lark

Day four on the Big Brother Ark. Noah is washing his hair. Shem, Ham and Japeth are feeding the animals. The Unicorns have decided to go for a swim...

Will it ever stop bloody raining? Ok, I know that this week combines Glastonbury with Wimbledon, but there is no cricket so it doesn't have to be torrential. What do you bet there is a hosepipe ban?

And the bloody Intertoto cup has started. Isn't there supposed to be a bit of the year with no real football?

Hits of Glastonbury: Arctic Monkeys, Go! Team, the Coral, Kaiser Chiefs.

But the Who were rubbish.

Let it rain, let it rain, let it rain.

Summer's gone

Well that didn't last long. No more heatwave. Now we are building Arks. And there is a Sheffield flood.
Luckily the holiday was last week, and went fine. Though I am having acid flashbacks about 7 foot tall Woodpeckers. And then I see the photos and discover they were real.

So, in dedicated work avoidance am busy buying old CDs on E-bay. Downloading is not killing the music business, but e-bay must be doing some damage. Why buy a new Tracey Thorn CD when you can buy some music hacks unwanted review copy (in a really nice limited edition sleeve) for £4. Including postage. Delivered to my door. Sure beats going to HMV.

Summer's here

How do I know? Reggae sounds good again.

And no I don't want to talk about the European cup final.

And so it begins

Well, couple of hours to the Champions League final. Time for optimism. Time for realism comes later. It will be great if we can do it, but the odds are against us.
Last time I was in my local pub - this time in a bar in a far away country. Time moves on.
I never actually thought we would ever again reach the final, let alone win it - let alone reach a second final in three years. A pretty good achievement in itself. Come on you Reds.

THE GO BETWEENS - Right Here

Oh, God. Watching this again, can somebody please tell me why the Go-Betweens weren't big as U2, or at least Grant a major solo star?

A year since Grant died, and still the rockstar I miss the most. Purely because now there will be no more songs.

Alone again, Or..

Alone again naturally
All by myself
Just like starting over
It takes too
Helterskelter
It's all over now
Who's sorry now?
With or without you
Pick yourself up, and start right over again.

So, back in business for myself. On me tod. By me sen.
Hey, ho, let's go.

A stitch in time

The wounds don't heal until you take the stitches out...
Mole has gone, but the wound remains.

You can revisit the past - but it sits nervously on the edge of the sofa, and never relaxes.
Why should it?

When does being cryptic become enigmatic? Or profound, even?
Oh, never mind.

Groundhog day

So, AC Milan vs. Liverpool FC, the rematch.
Looks like narrativium rules.

Gordon Bennet it was a tense evening against Chelsea. I didn't enjoy a minute of it until it was over. Seconds of it were quite good, but nothing lasting for 60 seconds or more.

I remember a Jasper Carrott sketch that started with him saying "I got a mole". Well I don't. Do have a lot of stitches and a big scar though.

tonight's the night

Chelsea vs. Liverpool - the rematch.
As they say in Star Wars, I have a bad feeling about this...

Thou shalt always kill

Warren Ellis thinks he was slow to this. I got it from his website. What does that make me?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d-MYVv4tgQc

No, seriously. Dan le Sac vs. Scoobius Pip. I would say it was the bomb, but I think that is one of the thou shalt nots.

what were they thinking?

A wonderwomen strip taken from the blog of the above name.

Can tentacle sex be far behind?

I have a bad feeling about this...

So, the Mighty Reds are through to the Semis of the European Cup, where we will play.... (cue drumroll) ... Chelsea. Groundhog day. And this time it is personal.
What worries me more than the fact that they owe us one, and are actually a better team than us, is that if we lose it could set up another Man U vs Chelsea match. Possibly the third in 2 weeks which will deterimine who wins the Premiership, FA Cup and European Cup. Groundhog Day.
The universe's driving force ((C) T. Pratchett) is narrativium - which means a good story overrules everything else. It would be such a good story that I really don't think we have a chance of getting past Chelsea if Man Utd beat AC Milan.
Our only chance is for Milan to be the red scum, and then narrativium dictates that we will beat Chelsea and set up a repeat of Istanbul. But in Athens...
Groundhog day. You know it is true. You may not believe it, but you know it is true.

"It's deja vu all over again" - Yogi Berra

What a long strange journey it is...

25 years of Love and Rockets. We are both getting old. I remember reading these as they came out (and I could afford them) in a housing association flat with the first of the white cats. And I am re-reading Locas from the beginning.

Now, back to work...

The kids are alright

Indeed they are. I finally met with a selection of the often mentioned (and maligned) youth of today, and you know what? They are fine. Probably less spotty and more together than I was at their age.
Every generation thinks that their parents (and grandparents) were gods, and that they are the last civilised generation. Every generation is wrong. There were no golden ages. There will be no monsters raised entirely by Playstation 3.

You think we would learn...