We listened to 5 Live all day yesterday as their presenters time and time and time again vented their spleen at the LOCOG for the empty seats that were evident at a number of Olympic events. Five Live has been on amission for months to undermine the event and despite an explanation, a very clear one, that the empty seats were those of the “Olympic Family” ie athletes and officials who are mostly in training at this early stage of the event and therefore unable to attend events. Despite this they attempted to whip their listeners up into a frenzy of dissent.
This typifies the bad side of Britishness, amidst everything that is wonderful about these games we have an innate need to find fault. I’m sick of it. Aren’t you?
Later in the day it appeared the tide had turned against them and they turned 180 degrees into arse licking support. Presumably the tweets and emails of listeners like me eventually wore them down.
I heard this “song” on Desert Island discs last week and I thought it was incredible. It is by a 12 year old Mongolian girl and is known as throat singing. See what you think.
OMG . How much did I love this band in the early 1980’s. Undoubtedly the best thing to come out of Germany after Can, Kraftwerk and David Bowie.
Anyway, my nephew has made my year and done his take on it. I give you, ladies and gentlemen Tron by Default and Picassio.
I was out with a pal for a meeting in South Queensferry one evening last week.
We had a couple of beers (Belhaven Black to be precise – a new Stout from Scotland and very nice it is too).
Keir, my daughter Ria’s boyfriend, was behind the bar but one of the barmaids served us our second drink.
This is the chitty she (Chloe) gave Keir to place our order.
On Saturday I cycled this route (initially in the rain as dawn broke – well 7am) with a couple of pals. It took me to a lovely little, one pub, village called Torphichen in the hills between Livingston and Linlithgow and through the Beecraigs Park.
Quite hilly, it proved almost too much for one of our group and it was a leisurely 4 and a half hours before we set foot back on Queensferry soil. But the route was fantastic, much of it on car free single track roads so I thought, what the hell, I’ll go out again this afternoon and see what time I can do it in. Two hours on the dot and with 63 miles in my legs idea preparation for the freshnlo Pedal for Scotland Glasgow to Edinburgh bike race on 9th September. You can register here.
By the end of the second run though my thigh muscles were starting to groan and a long bath was called for.
Monday was a work from home day with meetings in Edinburgh both in the morning and in the evening. Consequently I put another 52 miles on the clock. So a good few days all in all.
Wow, Ken Loach’s 21st movie (might be more) further deepens his fondness for documentary style movie making in Scotland. As a child I was supremely moved by Kes. My Uncle took me to see it as a 7 year old and it scared me. The anger and bitterness of a Northern life of poverty, dominated by a glowering Brian Glover as the bullying PE teacher and the innocence of the lead character played by David Bradley left me all aquiver. Since then I’ve followed Loach almost universally. Riff Raff, Raining Stones, My Name is Joe, Carla’s Song, Looking for Eric. All brilliant. All gritty, all uncompromising.
Looking For Eric raised his box office bar by ingeniously casting Cantona and described as a comedy it had the odd laugh, but was no comedy. And this in some way compares.
This man is a national treasure.
And, so, to a movie billed as a proper comedy.
Well, it is very, very funny. Paul Lavety has made sure of that with a brittle acerbic, cynical script that bowls along spewing expletives faster than you can say “see you next Tuesday”. The plot itself is a little fantastical but you can forgive that because the performances are extraordinary, not least by British TV stalwart John Henshaw in a career defining role. In some ways it’s Henshaw’s movie and the denouement, which features him, is extremely moving.
I said it was a bit fantastical but the overall effect is fantastic. At one moment gut wrenchingly violent. The completely believable East end of Glasgow Gang culture that it’s set amidst is quite shocking at times, and at others it’s laugh out loud especially with its liberal use of top notch gratuitous swearing.
Don’t take your mother (although my mother had been the week before me and loved it!).
This is a great movie. A certainty for award victories and a life affirming way to spend an afternoon or evening in the cinema.
8.5 out of 10.
I discovered this record in Italy. It was produced there and that maybe explains why there are no reviews to be found in Google. But take it from me if you like African music you will surely love this classical/jazz take on the work of Fela Kuti.