Sunday Clocks Are Striking

Outstanding.

2009-04-26T09:07:00.004+01:00

I haven't blogged in a while for a variety of reasons, primarily apathy and procrastination I should admit. However, I was moved this morning to get back on the blogging trail by this frankly outstanding pice of human endeavour. How good is this?

Credit Crunch?

2008-12-15T09:31:00.001Z

Good to see it isn't all bad news. Phew!

Old men.

2008-11-21T15:34:00.003Z

I've just witnessed a guy who had left his seat for a couple of minutes in the British Library with the desk full of his stuff including several books and his computer plugged in and turned on have his seat taken by an old guy who has now refused to budge for the last 5 minutes and made a ridiculous scene. I've spent a fair bit of time in libraries in general over the years and it never ceases to amaze me that it is singularly old men who I've seen cause problems by taking people's seats when they are clearly taken. I can't wait to get old, it's going to be so much fun.

Neglectful me.

2008-11-19T09:22:00.013Z

I realised I've been somewhat neglectful of this blog - working full time, looking for jobs and doing Mitch's Honey do list means I don't get much time to write more, honest. So, in order to rectify this a little, I've got a pictorial catalogue of some of the things I've been up to over the last few months.

So, in no particular order:

I was joint best man for one of my oldest and best friends' wedding:

Mitch and I went to South London to visit my friend Stig where his daughters painted Mitch's nails, much to her, their and our general delight:

I went to the Falkirk Wheel! It was aces:

I'd wanted to go for ages and finally made it. It's powered by something like the equivalent of 8 irons plugged in. Or the same amount of electricity needed to keep Mitch warm.

I also went to Bergen and stayed with my friend Per down by the fjords. It was lovely. I also presented at a conference, but really that's an aside compared to staying at Per's house:

It was so fantastically dark at night that the window became a veritable mirror:

Per's neighbours had a nice hoose, but a wee bit remote for me:

Okay okay, I'll show you a picture of Bergen proper as well, since it is so pretty:

You can see the UNESCO World Heritage site just to the left of the picture there, it was pretty cook if a little rickety. Not really surprising given its age of course.

Mitch and I went to Brighton where we met up with her brother and his fiancee. Mitch looks pretty in black and white:

I adopted 3 cats. Well, I say adopted when I really mean looked after for a week through visitation rights. The one on the far right under the bed is called Sarah, the one with the arched back is called Stone and the other one is called Kans. We were best friends for a week. Probably because I could guarantee access to the dried tuna. No probably actually, definitely.

Duncan grew a ponytail and had me laughing like a drain:

My sister and her family came to see us and we went to the Natural History Museum and had a great time looking at all the animals:

We also went to St Andrews for a wee trip:

See, I have been busy!

My wife.

2008-11-17T19:37:00.002Z

Is such a lovely woman. But I still can't understand why she bought enough tulle to stretch across a football pitch. 100 YARDS of it!

Berlusconi Mk II.

2008-11-07T11:56:00.003Z

Give Silvio his due, just when you think he isn't capable of being any more idiotic than he has been, he does it again here.

Silvio thinks Obama is 'tanned'.

Imagine.

2008-11-07T08:01:00.002Z

Just imagine the horror.

I could spend all day writing about this, but I shan't.

Wrong again.

2008-11-05T11:35:00.002Z

Turns out I was wrong, but boy am I pleased about it!

Just to clarify.

2008-11-04T19:57:00.001Z

I REALLY hope Obama wins. That's all.

Happy Birthday!

2008-10-30T16:29:00.003Z

Diego Armando Maradona is 48 today. Probably one of the best footballers I've ever played against. Actually, I've never played against him, but I surely couldn't have done worse than this lot right?

Perhaps not.

The ridiculousness of the market.

2008-10-29T11:07:00.005Z

Did anyone see this? Porsche, a company worth around about $7bn has managed to acquire options of up to 75% ownership of Volkswagen, a company worth up to $115bn, by playing the hedge funds at their own game. Of course, now the hedge funds are complaining about it which is a real shame for them. I particularly like the comment made by the former Deputy Chancellor of Germany, Franz Munterfering, re certain people in the financial services industry:

"Some financial investors spare no thought for the people whose jobs they destroy. They remain anonymous, have no face, fall like a plague of locusts over our companies, devour everything, then fly on to the next one."

Masters of the universe, if you will. Or not.

Another graphic.

2008-10-17T17:38:00.004+01:00

The US election is nearly upon us and it's looking interesting. Obama is in the lead, but McCain's been the underdog before and still won the nomination to run. Who's going to win? No idea, probably McCain, perhaps Obama. Obviously I'd prefer the latter by virtue of the fact that the current Republican administration has been an unmitigated disaster in almost every way - the economy, foreign policy, domestic security and making the current regime the most invasive, power hungry and in thrall to big business government the US has ever had. For the so-called party of economic growth the following graphic shows succinctly that it's no more than a lie that the Republicans are the party of economic growth and prosperity:

Quite how they managed to pull that lie off is alien to me, but I will say one thing for them, they've got misinformation down to a fine art.

But, there is always room for a chuckle in any election so click on this and then click away to your heart's content. Made me laugh several times.

Credit crunch and the UK made easy.

2008-10-10T19:15:00.004+01:00

Interesting graphic here:

So, in bailing out the ailing banking system in the UK by spending at least £500bn, the government is over-stretching its spending projections by 81%. Where's Prudence when you need her? What's the bets that it'll be health and education that get squeezed (or squoze if you are Utahn, apparently), rather than say defence (now there's a misnomer) expenditure? And how many of these banking executives will be losing their jobs for messing up so spectacularly? How many won't get their bonuses this year? How many will do the honourable thing and resign their positions in light of their outstanding failure? Aye, nane. And whose money will they be spending? The taxpayers'. For the £50bn part-nationalisation component of the bailout alone it is going to cost each taxpayer £2000. I wonder if the banking executives will notice it in their annual bonus this year? I'm guessing not.

Even I'm tempted by this.

2008-10-10T14:32:00.005+01:00

Well, apart from the cigarettes. Ooft, can you imagine the carnage in your stomach after some of that? All available from here. I realise as a vegetarian it is probably against my better judgement to advertise that place, but it does look good and tasty. I mean, look how happy this guy looks!

Guess I was wrong.

2008-10-07T10:42:00.003+01:00

You know how I wrote a post about the Al Burj in Dubai being massive? Turns out it's not so massive in comparison to this badboy:

Ridiculous! It is part of a litany of projects that are mooted for construction in Dubai, of which more can be found here. I particularly like the Dubai Death Star and The Cloud. Sounds like some architects have been watching a little too much Star Wars.

The worst film of all time, ever?

2008-10-06T15:10:00.002+01:00

I've just saw a trailer for what might be the worst film idea and execution of all time. You know The Warriors? Cult classic story of a gang trying to get back to its turf set in 1970s New York? Great film and one of my favourites. Well now we have The Purifiers. Set in a futuristic Glasgow and a rip off The Warriors movie, with KUNG FU added in. I watched the trailer and I can still smell it. It stinks.

Worst. Movie. Idea. Ever.

London is expensive.

2008-10-04T20:44:00.003+01:00

I've complained about it time and again of course, so Mitch and I have been thinking about ways that we can raise our standard of living and have hit upon this! Isn't it great? I mean, 437.4% apr?! Sounds like a bargain to me! Or loan sharking. Scum.

Stevie Wonder.

2008-10-02T10:28:00.004+01:00

So Mitch and I, as a consequence of the Bishop of her church's generosity, got to sit in a corporate booth and watch Stevie Wonder at the O2 arena on Tuesday night.

Our view of the stage before Not So Little Anymore Stevie Wonder hit the stage:

Here's Stevie doing his thing, doesn't he look good?

Aye, he's a showman for sure. Here he is again, right in the middle at the front of the crowd:

All in, I thought it was a great show although I'd have preferred if he'd played some of his early Motown stuff but it'd be churlish to complain given he played Living For The City, Higher Ground and Superstitious. I'd have killed to see him do Uptight though.

I should also note that all the way through Stevie kept referring to how he was voting Obama and that anyone with a vote should be doing the same. A sentiment I certainly agree with, but it made me think of the alternative. Isn't she lovely?

Crane Operator Needed.

2008-09-30T11:23:00.006+01:00

Anyone fancy a job as a crane operator on the Burj Dubai?

Can you imagine if you needed to go to the loo?

As tall as that ridiculous building is, it's not even going to be the tallest! The Al Burj on the far left is going to be bigger:

Isn't Sarah Palin a lovely woman?

2008-09-18T22:15:00.003+01:00

I mean really, isn't she?! The first one was the clincher for me. Such compassion.

Nick Clegg: comedian.

2008-09-17T21:46:00.003+01:00

The leader of the Lib Dems seems to think that his party are 'headed for government'. Oh my aching sides. They've as much chance of winning power as I do of winning the lottery. I never play the lottery.

In spite of the goatee beard.

2008-09-17T08:41:00.005+01:00

Ian Bell has written an interesting article in today's Herald on Marx and the current disastrous US financial situation here. It reminded me of the several visits I've made with friends to Highgate Cemetery to see Marx's tomb below:

Surrounding the tomb are the graves of numerous erstwhile left leaning people who in all likelihood, alongside Marx, would view the current situation in the US and beyond as nothing more than expected, and with some justification. There is no little irony in seeing the free market trumpeting Republicans intervening left right and centre and bailing out companies that are now seeing the spoils of their lackadaisical (at best) approach to financial management coming home to roost. But of course, we've to feel sorry for the managing directors. Not the millions of people who are facing homelessness and unemployment as a result of being conned into thinking that they could afford mortgages way above their income. The 'credit crunch' will make its way into history textbooks in time and whoever decides to take up the analysis of it will likely have to set aside some time to analyse the myriad terms, industries, sub-industries and tangles that the sub-prime market impacts on.

Oh, and another thing. The facility set up by Goldman Sachs et al to help stabilise the market (HA!) reminds me of a similar action taken 40 years ago in Basle when the international monetary system was having some difficulties. Who says what I do isn't relevant?

Andy Bevan I salute you.

2008-09-16T08:41:00.003+01:00

For getting it so, so wrong.

Andy you see was, until recently, an employee of Lehman Brothers who worked in equity derivative finance. Andy received official word about Lehman Brothers' effective demise and his own redundancy yesterday and who did he feel sorry for? The MANAGING DIRECTORS! Why? Because 50% of their bonus was paid in stock in the company that is now worthless. Unbelievable. I'm finding it difficult to comprehend how you can feel sorry for people who have trousered millions from running a company who have filed for the largest bankruptcy in history. I guess that shows how Andy is a better person than me. Or delusional.

All here.

WHO states the obvious.

2008-08-28T09:55:00.001+01:00

Here.

Well knock me down with a feather eh?

Ach.

2008-08-04T14:44:00.000+01:00

I will be back, it's just that we've moved and I don't have any regular internet access. Pah.

Not a bad idea this.

2008-06-23T19:54:00.001+01:00

Click here and click I agree. You know you want to.

For sale.

2008-06-21T12:16:00.003+01:00

Our first marital home here. What a lovely price eh? Sadly we won't see any of it as we are renting. We could live like kings (or a queen in Mitch's case) for that price in Scotland. We're off to look at a place just behind us but it'll be sad to move out, mainly because we both hate moving. Oh, and of course it's our first marital home. Och weel, such is life. Any takers?

Life imitating art?

2008-06-16T07:45:00.003+01:00

I've been somewhat tardy in updating I realise (and I do have more to say), but my eye was caught by this, which reminded my immediately of the video below. Oh dear.

I shouldn't have laughed, but...

It's that man again.

2008-06-05T09:10:00.004+01:00

I've mentioned him before here, but upon reading about him again I discovered what his name actually means, and it's a doozy.
Born Joseph-Désiré Mobutu, he changed his name to Mobutu Sese Seko wa za Banga. Which is I suppose fair enough, but its meaning is fantastic: 'The all-powerful warrior who, because of his endurance and inflexible will to win, will go from conquest to conquest leaving fire in his wake.' How good is that? My name on the other hand means Champion Big Hill Son of Kenneth. Not quite as exciting. As if Mobutu's name change wasn't enough, he also decided to have some official rumours spread about his abilities including his supernatural feats of killing a lion with his bare hands at the age of 7 and the battle he fought against Zaire's enemies where bullets and spears bounced off his chest, to name but two. What a guy. I've realised that I've perhaps taken the wrong approach to self-advertising and should ramp it up a bit to get on in life. Any suggestions about what I should call myself or what I should tell people?

More about the big man here.

THIEVES!

2008-05-23T19:09:00.005+01:00

No not the Tories, although I am led to believe that Tory is gaelic for 'robber' (which may or may not be true, but apt nonetheless), but the scumbag that skimmed my bank card and trousered several hundreds of our hard earned out of our account. I knew living in London would bring with it all sorts of interesting experiences and I did think that having money electronically half-inched was a distinct possibility, but actually seeing the reality of your account being abused wasn't that much fun. In saying that, even less fun was the bank saying that since my card was present at the transactions (which it most certainly wasn't as it was in my pocket on my person) they couldn't consider it fraud. When I pointed out to them that my card was not present but a copy of it may have been they asked if I was sure I wanted to 'take it forward as fraud'? No no, just you let some criminal continue stealing our money, that sounds like a great idea to me. Where do these people get their crazy ideas from?

Missing the point.

2008-05-22T18:06:00.005+01:00

Have a look at this. Here's a brief synopsis:

Dr Charlton said: "The UK Government has spent a great deal of time and effort in asserting that universities, especially Oxford and Cambridge, are unfairly excluding people from low social-class backgrounds and privileging those from higher social classes.
"Yet in all this debate a simple and vital fact has been missed: higher social classes have a significantly higher average IQ than lower social classes."
The fact that so few students from poor families get into Oxbridge is not down to "prejudice" but "meritocracy", he said.

Of course it is Dr Charlton, that's all there really is to the story isn't it? Nothing to see here people, move along. Just another apologist for the retention of the privileged position of Oxbridge and the nepotism that's made Britain Great. How a supposedly learned academic can be so blinkered and unable to engage with the reality is frankly staggering. People are obviously just smarter the more money they have! If I'd only realised earlier I'd have just set about earning money and accumulating as many material possessions as possible and sat their while my brain grew. I'm glad I've finally seen the light, I don't think I'll bother going to my doctoral graduation now. I'll just get myself a credit card and start spending money I don't have. Oh, and get a nice Barrett house as well.

Things wot I saw in London over the last week.

2008-05-16T19:45:00.006+01:00

I saw things, things I never thought I'd see.

Like a fat Richie lookalike:

And a man upside down in a bin (not really):

Then a giant gorilla hand/chair going into a doorway:

The gorilla hand came from a wee antique shop where Mitch and I have bought some furniture, but alas was far too big for our
humble abode sadly.

The things you see in the Big Smoke eh? Crazy days people.

Web 2.0 shenanigans.

2008-05-16T19:38:00.002+01:00

Via Richie I signed up to Blip.fm. Have a shifty here.

Mmmmm!

2008-05-12T09:06:00.001+01:00

Yum!

I bothered the Fourth Estate again.

2008-05-02T13:32:00.002+01:00

But of course I forgot to tell you. Here it's. it was written in response to this. I couldn't let it lie you see...

Theses.

2008-05-02T13:21:00.004+01:00

Carrying these things just about killed me:

What to do?

2008-04-28T08:24:00.007+01:00

I was reading Ian Bell's piece in The Herald on t'internet this morning and found that he neatly encompassed my own views on renewables and, in particular, wind-farms. I love the sight of them just after Stirling when I find myself on my way to Perth from Glasgow. I remember driving, or rather being driven, up the Pacific Coast Highway between San Diego and LA and seeing a wind-farm out in the desert and being struck by how much more attractive they were than the unsightly concrete warts on the landscape that was San Onofre nuclear power station. The reason why I couch the discussion in terms of aesthetics is due to it being the over-riding concern of many who object to wind-farm construction. Of course, there is good reason for this - in the Highlands in particular amenity is the lifeblood of many communities, being as it were the primary reason for tourists to visit the place. Consequently this has to be taken into consideration when plans for wind-farms are being discussed. But, given the choice between wind-farms which are easily removed and a nuclear/coal/oil-fired/biomass power station which is not, it seems to be the rational choice (along with wave and solar, in time). Of course, there are problems with wind-farms but their environmental footprint is far less intrusive than the alternatives. Indeed, their environmental impact in terms of pollution is also far far less offensive as well. Perhaps localised energy production is the answer? Rooftop solar and wind generators? The money we've spent chasing foreign misadventures could easily have been channelled into this with far far more pleasant results for everybody.

But in saying all that, I do disagree with Bell on one thing: I actually love the sight of Grangemouth. It looks like a vision of Dante's inferno located right by Falkirk. I also have a passing fascination with power stations and appreciate their own unique brand of brutalism. Huge cooling towers are a favourite - massive hulking constructions that look like quite unpleasant bouncers on the door of a club. Wind-farms are positively birdlike in comparison. Then you have our other form of energy production and consumption, oil. Offshore oil platforms, in the UK built and repaired in Nigg Bay north of Inverness, are massive constructions that float out in the middle of nowhere pumping the lifeblood of the British economy and society into the mainland. They're hardly attractive, and even less so when you consider the pollution they bring to country, albeit necessarily so. Remember the brouhaha over the Brent Spar platform when Shell wanted to junk it and scuttle it? Few people complain about their lacking aesthetic qualities or ruining of amenity when they are being tugged along Nigg Bay to be fixed up or sent back to sea. In saying that, we could have ended up with something like Oil Rocks in the Caspian Sea:

Yes, a veritable city built in the middle of the sea about 40km offshore from Baku. There's a library and a hospital as well as anywhere between 2000-5000 people living there making their way around 200km of roads built on stilts in the middle of the sea. Many of the roads are completely submerged having sunk into the seabed and the water levels reach up to the second-floor windows in some buildings. So I suppose Grangemouth isn't quite as bad in comparison.

Of course this is a simplistic analysis of the pros and cons of power generation, but not completely without merit. The strike at Grangemouth (which I personally have absolutely no problem with - the company are at it)(an oil company? at it? qualle surprise!), as Bell states, shows the fragility of the carbon economy that we have. Any attempts at moving that towards a more renewable-based model of production is fine by me. Preferably with the areas of amenity firmly intact of course. Easier said than done maybe.

Reminiscing about trainers.

2008-04-25T21:36:00.022+01:00

I was thinking about my 6 year old nephew yesterday and wondering how long it will take before he becomes obsessed with trainer/sneakers (for my American readers). I think I first really got into trainers when I went to secondary school. Before that I was more interested in what football boots I could get my hands on - my first pair were from Woolwoths and cost £5.99 if I remember correctly. They didn't fit so well and I hated playing football in boots for years after. It was an old neighbour and classmate of mine's brother who got me started on an unhealthy obsession with trainers that lasted from about the age of 11 until 14. He owned these ridiculous things:

Adidas Torsion they were called. The Torsion bit comes from a yellow plastic bar that runs through the middle of the sole of the shoe that sat right underneath your unstep and apparently gave you more stability. At £79.99 they were more likely to have given you a smack around the lug if you had the temerity to ask your parents for a pair at age 11. Needless to say I never.

The holy grail of trainers at 11-12 years old however were the Nike Air Jordans. Ranging from £99.99 - £119.99, depending on whether you shopped at Pro on the High St or Inter Sport in the mall, and coming in two colours these bad boys were owned exclusively by spoilt children whose parents clearly had too much money. Check them out:

The black ones were definitely the more desirable of the two, giving you that 'edginess' as a young lad strutting your stuff around the mean streets of North Muirton, Perth. I think only one kid I knew had them and that was because he'd gotten them on holiday in the US when he went to Disney World in Florida and found the in some discount warehouse. The last time I seen them some homeless guy in Detroit was wearing just one of them. They still looked cool mind.

After the Air Jordans came a new development in the world of teenage trainer fascinations - the Nike Air 180s. Ostensibly intended to give you something like 'MAXIMUM comfort' comfort from the oversized air pocket built into the shoe's sole, the reality was, I think, an effective marketing gimmick for all us youngsters to pester our parents for a pair. Useless for fitba mind you:

Can you see where the air is? The clever bit was that they got see through materials to encase the air pocket, making it 180. Nice.

I never got a pair of Air 180s for the simple reason that they were ludicrously expensive and somewhat flimsy. Usually I'd save up a bunch of money from my paper round over a number of weeks and then when it came to birthday or Christmas time I'd find the best looking trainers I could that were best discounted so as to be affordable. Generally speaking I'd be looking at about £40 for a pair of trainers (that I'd put about £20 to from my savings). As a consequence I was able to acquire a pair of these bad boys:

Only, mine weren't blue, but hot pink. I remember being enthralled by the hot pink swoosh and being determined to keep them as white as I could. However, there was some concern amongst myself and friends that maybe I'd inadvertently bought myself a pair of girls shoes. Thankfully a quick flick through the Kays and Freeman's catalogues confirmed that it wasn't the case as they were in the men's section. I was more than relieved. Can you imagine the ignominy of having a pair of girls shoes as a 13 year old lad? I'd have probably had to bin them (or give them to my sister) and move schools if it ever got out. There was the ongoing concern though that some joker would stick a penknife into the exposed air bit at the back of your trainers leaving you with one deflated shoe. There were rumours that this had happened to a kid once. Thankfully it never came to pass for me. Phew.

My favourite pair of trainers that I remember were the cross country Nike Air Huaraches. Just stunning (to a 14 year old anyway). I had a pair of blue nubuck ones that for the life of me I cannot find a picture of anywhere. They were limited edition if I recall correctly though so that may be why. Again, I got them for about £40 reduced from the heady price of £79.99 when they were first out in Pro on the High St. I've NEVER had a pair of shoes/trainers/boots/slippers/footwear that has ever been as comfortable as those trainers were. I loved them dearly:

Even now, I'd probably put aside my aversion to Nike and buy a pair if I could find them in blue again. They're undoubtedly a classic of design on 90s trainers. Look at them! So comfortable.

EDIT: I just found the blue ones. I'm quite pleased about this as it confirms to me that I wasn't imagining things and definitely did not own the pair of grey and purple monstrosities above:

After the Huaraches I moved on to the less aesthetically ridiculous flat sole trainers made by Puma and adidas, not through choice I hasten to add. I had gone over my ankle one day and went up to the hospital as I couldn't walk. The doctor asked me how often this happened, which at that point was fairly often. He then told me that I had flat feet and I should throw away the trainers I was wearing as they were likely causing me the problems with my instep. By that point the Huaraches had more or less died on me and the Puma Court and Adidas Gazelles and Converse, which are far too ubiquitous for me to bother posting pictures of, became my footwear of choice. I did manage to get myself a pair of blue Adidas Trimm-Trab though:

They were aces, but a bit small for me, but blue, red and white so I didn't care. I may have been 17 at the time however...

Speaking of Converse however, my pal Slick used to have a pair of these behemoths in white and purple:

Until he lost em in a loch! We were at a birthday party at a friend's house in the country where we would get up to all sorts of fun things such as running over stacked hay bales, making rope swings, firing stones from our catapults into the fishery to make the fishermen think that Salmon were jumping and other fun stuff. At the birthday party we were having a competition to see who could run the furthest out into the bit of mud/silt where the tide had taken the fishery/loch out. Slick got the furthest, then got stuck in the mud. We couldn't get him out for love nor money. Then the tide came back in and we finally managed to jimmy him out with big sticks and a bit of rope. As pleasing for him as that was, he came out minus one of his expensive Converse boots that he'd just bought the day before. As well as being covered up to his waist in mud. To say I laughed would be putting it mildly. I thought I was going to have a coronary at the age of 13.

An honourable mention also goes to the gimmicky trainers put out by Reebok and Puma at the time. Reebok with their Pump trainers/boots:

You could inflate the tongue! Wow. I never owned a pair, I was more of a Nike man and didn't go for the gimmicks you know?

And Puma with their Disc:

Look, no laces! Hmm, again I was never convinced enough to buy a pair. Plus if the plastic broke your shoes would just fall off with no ability to be repaired easily. Poor.

So there you have it. My nephew has all this to look forward to, plus an uncle who will happily encourage him to follow his dreams and get that pair of inflatable, air-cushioned, disc-tightened, cross country, hot pink swooshed hi-tops with torsion bar for added stability in blue nubuck. I'm sure his mother will love me for it.

Who wants to make a mixtape/muxtape?

2008-04-25T11:49:00.003+01:00

I've made a mix tape for your listening pleasure that you can stream from here or click on the link in the links section to the right. If you fancy setting one up, send me the link to it. I'm always interested to hear what other people are listening to...

I went for a wee walk.

2008-04-23T11:18:00.002+01:00

Before I scoot off to the archives I thought I'd post you a wee link of a walk I took round Islington (apologies for the music, I like to listen to my iPod when walking, maybe it was a bit loud):

I know, you're thinking what I was thinking - how did they manage to put that pathway up? The answer? LADDERS! It's true, there's a wee shop on Hornsey Road that sells them. I couldn't believe it either! A nice wee walk though I'm sure you'll agree. I probably won't do it again though, it was a bit boring.

My busy morning.

2008-04-23T10:53:00.005+01:00

So, it turns out when Mitch goes away I revert to my usual working hours which are staying up late and getting up early as a consequence of writing. Or, burning the candle at both ends as my dad would tell me when I was a lad staying up watching tv or reading then getting up early and doing a paper round at the age of 12. So what does this all mean? Not much, but I was up late reading and trying to write Nigerian post-colonial monetary history last night and got up early this morning to organise collecting data on Hong Kong sterling holdings from the Bank of England. Then I got a buzz at the door - I answered (don't worry this is going somewhere, honest) to be told I had a delivery! That was a nice surprise. The guy asked what floor I was on and I told him the top (it's a 4 story building so not too high) to which he replied, and I quote, 'we don't do stairs'. Pardon? 'We don't do stairs, we're not insured'. So yes, that delivery charge I paid for didn't actually include the package getting delivered to the door. I would swear but I'm trying not to be to potty mouthed in case my in-laws are reading. (For swearing I suggest go here, here (sadly departed, but still makes me laugh) and here.) They all do swearing as I probably would if I wasn't trying to keep it clean.

So anyway yes, they don't do stairs. Because they're not insured. What is this? America? A place where suddenly even delivery men are considered so potentially litigious that they no longer have to walk up stairs? Ridiculous. And before I'm (perhaps correctly) accused of indolence, this is what I ended up carting upstairs (flat-packed) and then putting together:

I'm off to the Bank of England now. At least there they'll bring the folders I want to look at to me. I wonder how long it is until archivists are considered so potentially litigious that they'll be banned from that on insurance grounds?

TV Adverts.

2008-04-22T21:50:00.003+01:00

I was watching the end of the Liverpool vs Chelsea match when after it was done I was subjected to the following nonsense:

I can't help but think that it is a really bad attempt at subverting this:

Needless to say it fails miserably. Furthermore, what on earth possessed Samuel L Jackson to prostitute himself and hawk Virgin tv? Does he really need the money? I'm guessing not. There certainly can't be an artistic reason for doing so so I guess it down to that age old affliction of greed. I shouldn't be surprised.

Edited!

2008-04-21T22:20:00.007+01:00

I wrote another letter to The Herald this morning which has been published. However, they've chopped it up and part of it doesn't really make sense. Let's see now shall we:

My letter:

Dear Sir,

Whilst I wholly agree with RJ Ardern's letter regarding the replacement
of the rolling stock on inter-city rail routes in Scotland, I fear
he/she is whistling into the wind with calls for increased capacity on
the single-line tracks in the Highlands. These calls have been ongoing
since 1951 when the Scottish Council (Development & Industry) produced
a report on Highland Transport Costs which called for the same thing.
The same calls were repeated in 2005 in the Smart, Successful
Highlands and Islands report as well. As yet, neither have been acted
on. The fact is, since the Second World War successive governments
have been unwilling, although not unable, to sufficiently improve
transport links in what is one of Scotland's primary tourist earners
for whatever reason.

It's an old story of course, but one that is worth telling again. If
Scotland is to move forward economically then an integrated transport
system is paramount to achieving this, not just in the Highlands, but
over the whole country. The replacement of rolling stock is only one
of many requirements for a transport infrastructure for a forward
moving dynamic economy, but an important one nonetheless. Relying on
Westminster to implement these measures has shown to be futile - we're
still waiting.

_________________________________________

The Herald's version:

While I agree with R J Ardern's letter regarding the replacement of the rolling stock on inter-city rail routes in Scotland (April 21), I fear your correspondent is whistling in the dark with calls for increased capacity on single-line tracks in the Highlands. These calls have been ongoing since 1951 when the Scottish Council Development & Industry produced a report on Highland transport costs which called for the same thing.

The same calls were repeated in 2005 in the Smart, Successful Highlands and Islands report. As yet, neither has been acted on. The fact is, since the Second World War successive governments have been unwilling sufficiently to improve transport links in what is one of Scotland's primary tourist earners.

If Scotland is to move forward economically then an integrated transport system is paramount, not just in the Highlands, but over the whole country. The replacement of rolling stock is only one of many requirements for a transport infrastructure for a forward-moving, dynamic economy. Relying on Westminster to implement these measures has shown to be futile.

_________________________________________

Whistling in the dark? That makes no sense. And of course the link for posterity here.

Tremendous Hair.

2008-04-15T16:05:00.002+01:00

I woke up this morning looking like this:

There's a reason why I work from home mostly.

Knut.

2008-04-08T13:14:00.002+01:00

Remember Knut the polar bear? Apparently he has been accused, upon the learning of his killing some carp - yes, a polar bear killing fish, GASP! - of having 'senselessly murdered the carp'. Frankly I'm astonished, I mean, there must be so much else for the polar bear to do within the confines of his four walls eh? Quite how the story of a polar bear killing some fish makes national news is frankly beyond me, but having the temerity to attempt to judge an animal by human standards is patently ridiculous. Do these people not engage their brains before opening their cake holes?

Orange (again).

2008-04-07T12:53:00.001+01:00

Our phone finally got fixed, only after I'd emailed the Chief Executive of the company and the Executive Office telling them what was wrong and exactly what I thought of the company. I guess that'll teach me not to speak to the monkeys instead of the organ grinder when I want things done in future. I should have learned the lesson earlier right enough, Mitch did the same thing with BT and it worked. Go straight to the top people!

Mitch's sub-consciousness.

2008-04-07T12:20:00.005+01:00

Readers of this blog will have noticed that I have on occasion blogged about my lovely wife's sub-consciousness through the new favourite quotes I've posted. Well, last night was a particularly fertile evening for some real gems. Poor Mitch fell asleep before me then proceeded to have some 'interesting' dreams whereby she firstly told me in a worried voice that she 'couldn't do it - it's for online travel agents' and that she 'works for GS Operations', she didn't expand on what 'it' was, but suffice to say I think she was having a work related anxiety dream; she then fell back asleep after I woke her from her bad dream and then proceeded to wail at me that she couldn't shout on me as 'they' took me away as I was drunk and stumbling at the service station. I'm guessing she wasn't on about the police, but I can't be sure. Judging by the pain in her voice (as reassuring as it was disturbing, oddly), poor Mitch was in some distress at the thought of me being carted off, drunk and stumbling, at the service station. Poor lamb. So of course, I woke her again so she wouldn't be quite so distressed. She then fell back asleep before proceeding to have YET ANOTHER bad dream! This time, just as I was nodding off she says quite audibly, 'The girl died here'. This woke me up unsurprisingly and i asked her what she said, to which she responded 'The girl, she died in this house', fully waking me up in a state of panic that Mitch and I had moved into this flat where something terrible might have happened and she hadn't told me. So I woke her up and told her what she'd said. She was a bit surprised but then realised that it was something to do with the programme Medium on TV starring Patricia Arquette. So there you have it kids, don't watch 3 hours of Medium before falling asleep or you'll have nightmares. Isn't that right Mitchy?

And I haven't even told you about the time when Amber was visiting only to hear Mitch wailing and crying from the bedroom about 'the children and animals need to be covered', whilst asleep. When I woke her up she asked me if I could go cover the cookies she'd made earlier that night as she'd forgotten. Once I'd finished laughing I did and they were delicious. Even if they were made out of children and animals...

Straw Poll.

2008-03-31T18:24:00.003+01:00

So, a friend of mine, let's call them ABC likes somebody, let's call them XYZ, but so far hasn't done anything about it. Consequently, I feel duty bound to run a straw poll of my three readers to determine what ABC should do about XYZ.

Click Here for Poll Online Surveys
| Web Poll
| Email Marketing
View MicroPoll

Really simple, just let me know and whatever the answer is I'll ensure that ABC has to stick by it. Deal? They have no idea incidentally. Well, until they read this post...

Caledonia bound.

2008-03-21T09:38:00.001Z

This is Mitch and I today, sans the bad hair.

New Favourite Quote #12.

2008-03-16T18:32:00.002Z

"Do you consider monkeys someone?"

MItch, 13/03/08.

Needless to say I don't. Honest.

Orange.

2008-03-12T18:55:00.005Z

As some of you may know, Mitch and I have been without a landline to our flat for about 5 weeks now. We have/had our phone through Orange's Livebox thing which allowed us to call the US amongst other places for next to nothing. We paid 5 quid a month (as an existing Orange customer on a PAYM tariff) for broadband and home phone with calls to all UK landlines and the US included in the deal. It all worked great until 5 weeks ago when the second line packed in altogether however. Not really a problem in of itself, but the BT line has never worked with the Livebox but works fine without it. So, now we can either have internet or the phone, but not both together. Consequently, it's a pain in the neck to have to switch the jacks around whenever I or Mitch want to make a phone call (usually to the US) and not use my mobile.

I've been calling Orange about twice weekly about the problem with absolutely no positive response from them whatsoever. They've tried fobbing me off on numerous occasions, they've told me it has been escalated at least 3 times to a higher level when it clearly hasn't and have point blank refused to send me out a new Livebox as 'it must be working fine if you can get internet on it'. Well, obviously not since I can't make a phone call when it is plugged in. Unbelievable. I'm generally very laid back and don't get angered easily, but honestly they are trying very very hard to change that. The last person I just spoke to has told me to call back tomorrow and see if anything has changed, at my expense naturally. The person I spoke to yesterday told me that they had no date in sight for when it is going to get fixed, yet they expect me to continue paying for the service as well as paying to call them to tell me it's not getting fixed and also running up a larger than normal phone bill with them on my mobile? Of course they do. I believe that is called theft/fraud in just about any other circumstance. It's been the worst customer service experience I've ever had to deal with. They're getting a strongly worded email sent to them.

Oh and it turns out I'm not the only one with a problem with them. There is a website called Orange Problems no less with many more horror stories of their abominable 'customer service'.

A photoblog of the Big Smoke.

2008-03-12T12:13:00.009Z

The Hope Workers Cafe on Holloway Rd. I've never eaten there but I love the sign outside.

The view at sunset from Chez MacKenzie.

The front of Chez MacKenzie.

Stack at the Museum of Childhood in Bethnal Green.

Me at the Museum of Childhood in Bethnal Green. I had to fight that kid for the right colour bricks. And his mum.

Mitch asleep while Stack and I built our names.

Melton Square out the front of Euston Station. Believe it or not but this picture is actually in colour and not black and white.

St Paul's at dusk. I love St Paul's, but then you knew that already right?

Shepherd's Bush H&C line station.

Camera stall in Portobello Market.

The erstwhile New Piccadilly Cafe by Piccadilly Circus. A lovely old London Cafe with formica tables and excellent tea. Daniel ate 6 sugar cubes in under a minute here for a pound. Happy days.

St Paul's again. I told you I liked it.

I think this is Baker St underground station but I'm not sure - can anyone confirm? If it is then it is my favourite underground station in London.

Noisy clowns.

2008-03-12T11:41:00.004Z

There is a couple of brain donors outside working for EDF smacking what looks like a giant clamp with a sledgehammer against the side of their truck, which has been running now for 30 minutes, even though it is stationary. Have they not heard of global warming through air pollution? Nice to see EDF workers can take a gung-ho approach towards petrol consumption knowing full well the customer will end up paying for it. Ridiculous.

STOP PRESS! They've now started using a circular saw to fix the clamp. I'd almost put money on one of them injuring themself and/or the other.

Scrabble geekery.

2008-03-12T08:01:00.003Z

Yes I realise I have bored you in the past with my tales of Scrabble/Scrabulous geekery, but I have to do it once more. I not only beat my previous highest bingo, but completely destroyed it. The word? Samshoos! It's a Chinese spirit made from rice. I didn't realise it existed until I checked the dictionary in the Scrabulous game. The score I got for it? As if you are really interested, but to play along - I got 194 points! To say this made me whoop with excitement wouldn't be a lie. Yes I'm a geek. Yes I know you don't care. I'm going to have a cookie now in celebration, with a nice wee cup of tea. Oh and for proof, here it's:

I might just do nothing for the rest of the day since I'm unlikely to surpass these heights. Oh, but Nigerian 1970s exchange rate policies are calling me!

Cats are better than dogs.

2008-03-11T22:37:00.001Z

No question. You want proof? Click here. All the proof you need. I've been laughing myself stupid daily since I first clapped eyes on that site. Top dog!

Culinary delights.

2008-03-10T15:58:00.006Z

FINALLY I've found a good place for curry in London. The bad news is that it takes a while to get out to Tooting Broadway, but still now that I know there is at least one place that is capable of serving a good curry (also cheap), I'll perhaps be more inclined to go out there for it. The place in question is called Masaledar and thankfully manages to do a Saag Paneer that actually tastes of something and doesn't have a watery, milky consistency to it. Plus it did amazing Peshwari naan and nice, non-dyed pilau rice. Not too shabby at all. Oh and for four of us the bill came to an incredibly reasonable 40 quid, and that with food left on the table no less. All good. Don't get me wrong, it was no Mother India in Glasgow, but for London I'm impressed.

That was on Friday, on Saturday we went along to Patogh by Edgware Rd with Freeman after trying and failing to get into Mandalay, a Burmese restaurant further up Edgware Rd. As disappointed as I was that we wouldn't be eating Burmese food, Patogh was a more than ample substitute. It didn't have much in the way of vegetarian options for main courses, but the special bread was one of the best breads I've ever eater. And I've eaten a LOT of bread in my time. It was so good I'd put it just behind a tasted slice of Mother's Pride plain loaf with loads of butter on it. Because NOTHING beats that bread. Still, Patogh was fantastic though. Well worth a visit. If only they'd do a vegetarian kebab though. Ach well.

What did I do on Sunday? I cooked a Moroccan chickpea stew in a tagine! Which was nice. In fact, I'm going to have some of the leftovers for dinner tonight I think.

Oh dear, I appear to have turned this into a culinary blog. See what happens when not a morsel of food has passed your lips by 4pm? I should go eat.

It's been a while.

2008-02-27T08:45:00.006Z

I've not blogged for a wee while now, not because I didn't have anything to say you understand, just because I've been busy. I inadvertently wiped all my work from the PRO off my computer by overwriting it with data from my old computer so I had to go redo all the work again. Bah. Oh well, that learned me good.

But on to a different subject. If I was a betting man, and I'm not, I think I'd wait for whoever it is that gets elected as the Democrat nomination for the US presidency and with the resulting bounce for them, then put my money on John McCain when his odds get lengthened for a short while. I just can't see the US electing either a black man or a woman to the highest office in the land against a Vietnam veteran and former POW. Don't get me wrong, nothing would please me more (in respect of US politics) to see a Democrat elected, irrespective of their gender or race, but I can't see it. I guess the beauty in US politics is that you always get suckered into hoping that something good will happen. Like last time round, there was what was reported as a groundswell of opinion against GWB that people, at least over here in the UK, thought Kerry had a genuine chance of getting in. We all know what happened there, albeit Kerry didn't help himself by not choosing Wes Clark as his running mate which gave the Republicans the chance to pin their 'war credentials' of being an administration that was in the middle of a war (of their own making of course) firmly to the ballot sheets.

The point of all this in relation to my thoughts on Obama and Clinton? As always, it is the older white guys running the show. Say what you like about Michael Moore, and let's face it we all have, but he had a point. Clinton and Obama are on a hiding to nothing unless one of them can pull something big out of the bag. Even then, they have it all to do. I just can't see either of them getting elected. McCain will get one term (due to his age), probably get through an amended immigration bill that he has supported, giving something like 12m immigrants votes in the US (primarily Latin Americans), before getting footed out the door by a few more NeoCons. They will by that point have convinced Jeb Bush that being president isn't such a bad job and that a family dynasty might be the way to go after all. A large number of those extra Latin American votes will likely go to a fluent Spanish speaking, newly devout Roman Catholic Jeb. I can see it all now!

But where will the Democrat nominee come from in the next election? That I don't see. John Edwards has failed twice in a row, first as Kerry's running mate and second in trying to get the latest nomination, so he's likely out. Hilary to run again? I'd be surprised at that, especially if she loses badly to Obama this time round. Obama? Maybe. A little more experience and exposure could do him well in the interim years. Al Gore? If he wants it then I suppose he'd at least be in a position to stand for it. The Clintons would likely be out of the way and he's already being touted as the power broker between Obama and Hilary. In saying that, he does appear to be enjoying his new found eco-warrior status so who knows?

Either way, McCain will win the next election. He's a more moderate Republican and will appeal to a wider audience with his 'bipartisan' approach. Oops, nearly forgot, there is always Nader! Now, where's my cheque book?

Who I should vote for.

2008-02-18T16:26:00.003Z

If I even had a vote that is:

87% Hillary Clinton
86% Barack Obama
85% John Edwards
82% Chris Dodd
80% Dennis Kucinich
79% Mike Gravel
76% Joe Biden
76% Bill Richardson
44% Rudy Giuliani
34% John McCain
26% Mike Huckabee
26% Mitt Romney
24% Tom Tancredo
15% Ron Paul
13% Fred Thompson

2008 Presidential Candidate Matching Quiz

I'm not really surprised that Hilary came top, I don't know why but I just had an inkling. I'm also not even remotely surprised that the top half of my recommended picks are Democrats. Just as well my wife and I don't both have a vote in the US elections eh? Well, they do say that you can change your politics (I have), but you can't change your team (I haven't). As long as Mitch supports Rangers I think we'll be just fine ;0)

Fun.

2008-02-14T19:09:00.003Z

Since I was accused of not wanting people to have fun in the comments section earlier this week feast your eyes on this badboy. What could be more fun for the kids?

For Amber.

2008-02-14T18:57:00.003Z

Since she moaned at the lack of pictures:

There isn't really much I can say about these is there? Heh.

I like to bother the Fourth Estate.

2008-02-14T10:59:00.003Z

But only when people like Doug Maughan insist on doing it first:

Small economies

May I suggest Doug Maughan tells us what Iceland, Switzerland and Qatar all have in common that Scotland doesn't (Letters, February 13)? Could it be that they are all small countries that exercise control over their own economies? I wonder if that has helped them "prove" his longstanding assertion that we are better served allowing our economy to be controlled as part of a larger entity? I think not.

And the link for posterity of course:

http://www.theherald.co.uk/features/letters/display.var.2042930.0.Small_economies.php

The Mosquito.

2008-02-12T10:44:00.000Z

I found this on the BBC news page. Apparently there is some uproar amongst various liberty groups about the device infringing on children's rights. I wonder how many of those arguing that point live in areas blighted by teenage gangs and trouble spots? I'm not interested in the rights or wrongs of using the device necessarily, that is a different argument. I'm just curious how often Professor Sir Albert Aynsley-Green has had to deal with groups of unruly and possibly dangerous children round his gaff. Not often I'd venture. It's not as if the device is intended for people over the age of 25 to go around chasing gangs of kids with it. As long as it is used properly and with appropriate licensing then it serves the purpose of making communities safer. The shops by where I grew up became/become a veritable no-go area at night times because of the various ne'erdowells hanging around it. A couple of these would sort the problem by all accounts. I wonder why it is such a bad thing? I am of course playing devil's advocate, but feel free to indulge me.

Little People.

2008-02-11T12:04:00.000Z

I was sent this by my lovely friend Naomi . It's really cool. I much prefer installations like this to installations like this. I suppose that's why I'll never be an art critic. Oh well, c'est la vie.

IDS gives me IBS.

2008-02-07T12:32:00.000Z

But this is kind of entertaining. Especially if you are of the blue persuasion in Glasgow I suppose.

Centenary.

2008-02-06T11:31:00.000Z

It just occurred to me that I wasted my 100th post on that clown Thatcher. Och well. What can you do?

Scratcher.

2008-02-01T16:23:00.000Z

Or Sir Mark Thatcher as he is more commonly known. I was reading earlier about how he had tried to effect a coup in Equatorial Guinea, which by the way seems to be a lovely place and it occurred to me, what on earth did Thatcher the Younger do to 'deserve' being called a Sir? Let's see, a whole series of dodgy business deals, a life of privilege, a very successful set of parents, an attempted coup (admittedly after the Sir was placed before his name), private education, breathtaking incompetence matched only by his arrogance and trading on mummy's name. No real surprise to find that his title is hereditary then, much like everything else he has had in his life. He apparently left Harrow with 3 O Levels and somehow managed to be offered a place at Oxford. Quite an achievement eh? Oh wait, I get it. Another useless titled spoiled brat. Quelle surprise.

Revolving.

2008-02-01T10:07:00.000Z

I was at the National Archives in Kew yesterday where upon I found that the main revolving door was shut and no apparent way of getting in. I knocked on the side door to which one of the guards eventually let me in. I asked him why the revolving door was shut and he answered "It's been too windy." TOO WINDY?! It was designed to withstand storms and wind for crying out loud! The beauty in the revolving door is that it is silent, keeps the noise and wind and rain out of the building and offers an elegant solution to stormy weather invading indoors. The only thing I can think of is that the revolving door they have at the NA is electronic and therefore was suffering some sort of malfunction in the stormy weather. Which in itself is ridiculous. You take a foolproof way of ensuring a steady flow of people are able to get in and out of the building at will and add the 'need' for electricity to it for no real reason - it reminds me of the time in Perth when Stagecoach (who are based in the Fair City and run by the fragrant Ann Gloag and Brian Souter*), it is rumoured, 'persuaded' the council to replace many of its roundabouts with traffic lights and designated bus lanes to ensure a steady flow of traffic and access (for the buses). I'm all for public transport, but the roundabout is probably the most simple and sophisticated form of traffic management there is and it was co-opted for no good reason causing all sorts of unnecessary difficulties in trying to get through Perth. Much like trying to get into the National Archives! Honestly, why take a perfectly good working existing system and change it about for no good reason? Change for change's sake it would appear.

* Yes I know Brian Souter is a donor to the SNP. No I still don't like him.

Brrrrrr!

2008-01-17T22:55:00.000Z

Mitch has just told me that it is -11F in Utah. That's -24C in our decimalised understanding of cold. If you don't hear from me in 2 weeks send out the St Bernards. Man that is gonna be CAULD!

Oops.

2008-01-17T11:05:00.001Z

In my last post I mistakenly thought I'd reached 100 posts when in reality I'd not. However, in my defence I came to the 100 post conclusion as a result of the dashboard feature on blogger which also counts unpublished posts. So there you have it, I have posts in reserve! Or something.

In other news, I've noticed something a little odd of late in London. Our power keeps cutting out - when I say keeps I actually mean 3 times in the last month or so. It's quite irritating. I was sat last night collecting and inputting data for Nigerian sterling proportions from the mid 1960s to the mid 1970s, as you do at 1am, when the power in the flat suddenly went out and various alarms started blaring. It was out for about 5 minutes before coming on again for 5 minutes then going off for 30 seconds before coming back on again. You'd think in the world's largest city at a time of low consumption there wouldn't be an outage surely? To be fair it did only seem to be my street but even still. Couple this with our water being cut off twice in the last month and I'm beginning to see the value in Mitch's insistence that we keep spare water. Not quite sure how I would be able to see with the water when the power goes out but at least it keeps me from being thirsty!

Joking aside, I can see the sheer volume of planning and maintenance that goes into utilities for a metropolitan area to keep functioning so it puzzles me all the more when these things are handed over to private companies to try and wrest a profit out of them. Surely infrastructural necessities for the efficient functioning of society - water, electricity generation and so on - should be under the auspices of government, or at least subject to governmental action such as reserving the right to transfer the ownership of provision of these utilities in the event of pre-determined and agreed targets not being met say, in order to ensure quality of provision is continuously at a level which allows society to function at its optimum capacity? More than x amount of work hours lost due to a loss in provision of y utility means the license automatically goes up for renewal. If targets are continually met and surpassed then the company receives a reward, like a reduction in tax on profits for example. Call it performance related pay if you will. That'd work right?

Centenary.

2008-01-13T09:33:00.000Z

I've reached 100 posts! Since this blog was meant to be about how I am getting on in London but has morphed into a number of different things, I thought I'd post 100 things I like and dislike about London. I think I'll split it 50-50 in the interests of parity however. Be warned, I fully expect to be scraping the barrel trying to get 100 things out. They're also in no particular order.

Dislikes:

1. I don't much care for the cost of living down here. It is a LOT.
2. I am deeply dissatisfied at the lack of decent Indian curries. But then you'll know that if you've read my previous post on the matter here.
3. The militaristic nature of meeting people- London is so big you have no option but to plan and plan again for even the simplest of meetings.
4. The way people attempt to get on the Tube without letting the people trying to get off go first. It's not rocket science- people getting off = more space to get on. WAIT!
5. The funny looks you get when handing over Scottish-issued currency.
6. South of the river. Except the Southbank. I like that.
7. The price of going to see a Premiership match- ludicrous! I've still not been as a result.
8. Related to the above- the fact that you have to join a 'club' in order to stand a chance of getting a ticket for a match. Talking about bleeding the average punter dry. I suppose this may well be the case elsewhere in England too, but it is certainly predominant in London. Yes I'm talking about you Arsenal, Tottenham and Chelski.
9. The Northern line- is it EVER open or not delayed?
10. Earls Court- singularly the most irritating stop in the whole of London. Constant delays.
11. Ken Livingstone- for pedaling the myth that Scotland is subsidised by the South East. Although to be fair he has recently changed his tune a bit.
12. Being so far away from Scotland.
13. Not being able to get Irn Bru at will. It is much better than it has been though and a bit more widely available.
14. Nae tattie scones.
15. Missing the Kelvingrove Art Galleries.
16. Missing the Transport Museum in Glasgow. The new one looks good too.
17. Having to vote down here. Pointless.
18. It's a bit busy.
19. The sheer volume of travel to get anywhere. And I live centrally-ish.
20. The length of time it takes to get anywhere. Obviously linked to the immediately preceding post.
21. The fact that for whatever reason kids seem to think it is okay to play really BAD music as loud as their crappy little mobile phone speakers, not headphones, will let them on the bus to the irritation of all and sundry. Even if it was good music it would still be irritating right enough.
22. That the V&A's Friday night openings are not accompanied by a notice stating that whilst in fact open, most of the collection will be closed to public viewing. Great. Thanks for the wasted journey.
23. LSE students thinking it is okay to talk loudly to each other and their mobile phones in the library whilst people are trying to work.
24. The LSE library's carpet giving me so much static that I get shocked EVERY time I visit.
25. The steps being too far apart in the fancy spiral stair-case in the middle of the LSE library. Got that one wrong didn't you Sir Norman Foster?
26. The rats.
27. The mice.
28. Ludicrous property prices- admittedly related to point 1 but I did say I'd be scraping the barrel.
29. That estate agents think it is okay to advertise studio apartments as one bedroom. It's not really the same is it?
30. People puking on the night bus. Just gross.
31. Taxi-fare costs. Unbelievable! Taxi drivers apparently earn in the region of 40-50k in London. That's double what I earn!
32. The HSBC archives being slap bang in the middle of Bow. Not the nicest of areas by ANY stretch of the imagination and a pain to get to.
33. The fact you have to pay to use the toilets in Kings Cross, but the ones in the adjoining St Pancras are free. Eh?
34. King's Cross station generally- they are apparently refurbishing it next to get rid of that horrendous canopy at the front. Not soon enough.
35. Euston taxi-rank. I swear Get Carter was based on that taxi-rank- underground, smells of stale urine, dank and very unpleasant. How it hasn't been moved is beyond me.
36. The free newspapers thrust into my face at every station, crossing, busy street, etc. If I want one, I'll pick one up thank you very much.
37. Absent friends.
38. The people on Oxford St. To say they are ignorant of others would be an understatement. Grasping commercialism at its worst.
39. Cannon St station being shut on a Saturday.
40. The Royal Family- not a London problem per se, but they do live here.
41. Having to read The Guardian instead of The Herald due to the general unavailability of the latter.
42. No Mother India.
43. The 91 bus drivers. Worst. Drivers. Ever.
44. Russell St. tube station stairs- DO NOT take the stairs. There are millions of 'em!
45. The mail- describing it as sporadic is being kind.
46. Having to chew down my tea, or indeed any drink made with boiled water.
47. Rush hour on the Tube. Thankfully I don't have to experience it often. Utterly miserable.
48. Having to constantly remember to put descaler in whatever appliances we use that need water.
49. Making a list of 50 things I don't like about London.

Likes:

1. Living with and being married to Mitch.
2. Discovering new things every day.
3. Sam Smith pubs- cheap, good and always good looking pubs. I will probably start naming individual ones later on.
4. St Paul's Cathedral. Just beautiful, inside and out.
5. Friends that have moved here from Glasgow.
6. Robert Dyas- amazing!
7. Ethiopian food. Why doesn't Glasgow have it?! It'd go down a treat there. Mark my words.
8. My job.
9. LSE Library- in spite of its many failings, it is still an excellent collection.
10. Korean food- I realise it is elsewhere, but I've only ever had it in London. Excepting that time in Memphis, but I didn't eat it there since it had meat in it.
11. The Tate Modern. The crack in the floor isn't that amazing, but the slides were brilliant.
12. Finsbury Park. It has a boating pond- I LOVE boating ponds.
13. The Compton Arms just off Upper St- a little bit of Yorkshire nestled away down a backstreet with a good cask ale selection.
14. Friends coming to visit and stay.
15. tfl A veritable timesaver if ever there was one.
16. Regent's Park- it has a boating pond! And a zoo.
17. Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese on Fleet St- former boozer of Dickens, Tennyson, Samuel Johnson, Mark Twain and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle to name but a few. It's a Sam Smith pub unsurprisingly. There's been a pub on the site for nearly 500 years. Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese was refurbished last in the 18th century apparently.
18. The former Daily Express building - now owned by Goldman Sachs - on Fleet St. A marvel of Art Deco design. Curved black and clear glass front and just lovely.
19. Baker St underground station- Sherlock Holmes stenciled tiles all throughout and original wood interiors. My favourite underground station in London.
20. The Millennium Bridge over the Thames- affords a great view of the Thames river front and is barely visible from distance.
21. Tower Bridge opening and closing. I was like a little kid watching it.
22. The Houses of Parliament. Mock Gothic aye, but still a beautiful building.
23. The Tube- I love it and hate it in equal measures. Either way, it makes life so much easier.
24. Fleet St- sadly no longer the home of the Fourth Estate, but home to some fantastic architecture. DC Thomson still live there- their building is adorned with the names of some of their esteemed publications still in the brickwork: The Courier, People's Friend, etc.
25. The Cittie of Yorke pub on Holborn- what a pub! Massive old working cast iron stove slap bang in the middle of the bar and lots of little booths all along one side. Another Sam Smith's.
26. The Princess Louise pub, again on Holborn. Closed for rewiring apparently- the toilets are B-listed and smell like they haven't been cleaned since their creation about 100 years ago. Strangely beautiful though.
27. The Bank of England building- the Old Lady of Threadneedle St as she is also known. A veritable fortress- I'm fortunate enough to get to work inside on occasion and it really is an impressive building. The institution itself was founded by a Scotsman, natch.
28. Hyde Park- it has a boating pond!
29. Mitch and I's flat. It's lovely, come visit.
30. Hampstead Heath- it's quite big and has swimming ponds in it. Not for me though, non-swimmer that I am.
31. The Gherkin- apparently only guys like it. I wonder why?
32. The New Piccadilly Cafe- sadly departed but a really wonderful old London classic cafe. We managed to get in on the last day which was nice.
33. S&M Cafe, Essex Road- another lovely classic London cafe. The S&M stands for Sausage and Mash mind.
34. The Emirates Stadium- took a walk round it and it really is very impressive, particularly how it took account of the local area with its affordable housing scheme. Plus the team that plays there plays the best football.
35. Blah Blah Blah vegetarian restaurant in Shepherd's Bush. Mitch and I almost literally licked our plates clean it was so good. Well worth a visit whether you are veggie or not.
36. The 91 bus. Excepting the drivers, the 91 is great. Drops me right outside LSE or right by my hoose. Braw.
37. The Victoria line- so few stops, such big carriages.
38. Bar Capitale pizzeria on Walbrook by Cannon St- terrible service, but amazing pizza.
39. Pizza Express St Paul's- only because they have Airblade hand driers in them. Truly the future.
40. British Library- I've yet to set foot in it, but I KNOW it'll be great when I do.
41. The Institute of Historical Research in Senate House- musty old historian hang out in a fantastic building.
42. Jeremy Bentham's Auto-icon in UCL. It's really him! Minus the head.
43. Walking around London and getting to explore.
44. Greenwich- a lovely place.
45. Thames Riverboat- but only if you get the old guy commentating on it. The younger guy just doesn't have the patter.
46. Museum of Childhood in Bethnal Green- very good fun.
47. The London Eye- I've never been up it, but I have walked around it and it is quite impressive.
48. St Pancras Station- it is really impressive. The roof is fantastic and well worth a look. The shoes on the female in the kissing couple statue are a bit big right enough.
49. London being a transport hub.
50. Water filters.

So there you have it- 100 things I like and dislike about London. To be fair, it was far more difficult compiling the dislikes than the likes.

Cackle.

2008-01-09T23:12:00.000Z

I've mostly been cackling at this for the last ten minutes.

Oh good Indian curry, where art thou?

2008-01-07T09:51:00.001Z

London, to my extreme surprise, does not seem to have good Indian curry anywhere! I've tried and I've tried and it's nowhere to be found. Like a noob I went along to Brick Lane only to be very disappointed. I took a recommendation from a friend who is married to a Hindu to try Bengal Spice on Holloway Rd and was very unimpressed at its pitiful effort of a Saag Paneer (not to mention disturbed that it made Mitch sick). I went along to Shah on Drummond St (apparently the home of some of the first Indian restaurants in the country) and was again unimpressed, staying on Drummond St I've also gone to Ravi Shankar's (rubbish) and Diwana which is probably the only one to receive pass marks out of the lot. And only because it is all you can eat for 6.99 and they give you platters instead of plates (I'm a tight Scot, what can I say?), although the food is pretty decent. I've also eaten at Rasa at a friend's recommendation, although admittedly not at the exact restaurant he recommended in Stoke Newington but in W1 instead. It was ludicrously expensive and my dish (a spinach and daal combination) was watery and tasteless. I've been to Khan's in Bayswater/Queensway which was not good either, although the decor almost made up for it- think of being in the jungle in a restaurant, but with no actual plants, only painted plants and bushes on the walls and ceiling and you've got an idea. Mitch liked it as it had a fairly astonishing selection of non-alcoholic drinks as it doesn't have a drinks license. I thought it was crap. I probably wouldn't have written this post if I hadn't had a curry from Mother India when I was back in Glasgow. Mother India and Glasgow in general has ruined me for curries in this city. Any one fancy bringing down a delivery of Saag Paneer, Peshwari Naan, Mushroom Rice and some Poppadoms with Spicy Onions when they visit?

Happy New Year.

2008-01-06T22:52:00.000Z

I almost forgot to wish you all a happy new year and fill you in on the joyful festivities I had over the festive period. My mother slipped on some black ice at home the Saturday before Christmas and broke her ankle and leg and knackered her ligaments, resulting in her being kept in over Christmas and poor Mitch driving the MacKenzies and Nichols to and from hospital to see her for the duration that we were there. She got out on the 27th though and is in plaster for 6 weeks then needs physio. Merry Christmas! So I headed back to London a few days after she got out and when I arrived I wasn't feeling too well- turns out I had caught some nasty bug from my 6 year old nephew which at least wasn't the dreaded norovirus that the world and his wife seem to have caught (see i.e.good across on the links for a lovely description of its symptoms), which was nice for me at least. What wasn't nice was being stuck indoors freezing cold with a fever and feeling like I'd run a marathon the previous day. On my hands. Paracetamol did the trick until Friday when I was forced into getting some Co-codamol (codeine AND paracetamol) to help me function at some level. It's gone today though! Just in time to get back to work. Nice. Happy New Year indeed!

Pour Brig II.

2008-01-06T22:26:00.000Z

Since I know at least one of my millions (sic) of readers is a SFII fan, here are the links to my favourite vignettes on probably one of the best video game franchises ever. Oh and Brig- you look not unlike Ken! Or rather Ken looks not unlike you. And that's a compliment. Whoever thought of these and got them up and running for our perusal deserves a pat on the back.

Ah, now if that doesn't take you back to spending days, nights, weeks and months wasting, sorry I mean playing, your life away on Street Fighter II then I don't know what will. You might well cringe at this though...

Or laugh at it. I did the latter. I may also have wondered what joypad moves he pulled off to manage it, but that's for 14 years ago. Honest.

PhD.

2007-12-21T11:26:00.000Z

I passed! I passed! I passed!

Uber-Geek.

2007-12-17T12:46:00.000Z

No, this isn't a post about Richie I'm afraid. Just another boastful entry about my Scrabble score. Today I finally managed to break through the 500 point barrier. To say I'm pleased at my geekery would be an understatement.

Look!

I'm hard.

2007-12-14T10:58:00.001Z

I keep laughing at this.

2007-12-13T19:27:00.000Z

New favourite quote #11.

2007-12-12T23:39:00.000Z

"Goodnight Mom"

Mitch a minute ago after I tucked her in and told her I was going to bed as she lay napping on the couch, 12/12/07.

I'm not sure whether to laugh or be worried...

New favourite quote #10.

2007-12-12T23:35:00.000Z

"Did the 7-11 people ever tell you if the mushroom stand was okay?"

Mitch about 2 minutes ago after she woke up still dreaming, 12/12/07.

Oor Morrissie.

2007-12-11T10:45:00.000Z

It looks like Viz has a wee thing for Stevie as well:

Ho ho!

Tuna kiss.

2007-12-07T17:09:00.000Z

So I asked Mitch for a kiss, which she objected to giving me. So what did she do instead? Leaned over, pretended to give me a kiss then promptly cupped her mouth over my nose and blew her manky tuna and celery breath right up my nose. I feel violated.

Classic console gaming.

2007-12-05T14:23:00.000Z

In case my posts about traipsing around Perth as a nipper and favourite games didn't already indicate, I have a history with console games. Thus, it was to my delight that I found these! (you might want to turn the sound down if you're in work!)

Classic Arcade Games

Classic Arcade Games

Classic Arcade Games

Classic Arcade Games

Classic Arcade Games

* Apologies for the links- they don't allow you to include the games without em.

In reference.

2007-12-04T11:36:00.001Z

In reference to my Morrissey post earlier, here here is a link to Tim Jonze's blog on the Guardian website stating quite clearly and unequivocally that "Every single quote attributed to Morrissey in my interview with him is correct, and I stand by them" and "How can Morrissey possibly claim a stich up when the interview is printed in Q&A form, his quotes are recorded on tape and he wasn't even asked about immigration in the first place? It's truly cowardly. If Morrissey holds these opinions he should either be sticking to his guns and standing by them or - more honorably - educating himself on race issues, realising why his comments were both offensive and inflamatory, and apologising for them as quickly as is humanly possible." So, if as Tim Jonze makes clear, there are tape recordings of what Steve-O said then I guess he did make those unpleasant comments and it'll be fun and games for him in court.

Mouldmaster or torture?

2007-12-03T12:21:00.000Z

I came across this link detailng the delights of the Mitre Mouldmaster- the choice of all primary level educational establishments in Scotland for football. Of course, once Scott McLeod got a Mitre Delta leather/plastic ball of his own we avoided the Mouldmaster like the plague. The above link tells you exactly why we did. I still shudder at the thought of it smacking you on the bare leg in the middle of winter. Ouch! In primary school we played class against class- I was in the B class. So it went 1a vs 1b, then when we moved up a year it was 2a vs 2b and so on. We played the same teams for 7 years. And people say the SPL is boring? Nonsense! We had great times. And for any primary school readers of my blog, or those raising children I recommend printing out the following rules for playground fitba so as not to lead into any trouble (shamelessly lifted from the interwebnet by the way) (and by the internet I mean Christopher Brookmyre):

The Rules of Playground Football

Matches shall be played over three unequal periods: two playtimes and a lunchtime. Each of these periods shall begin shortly after the ringing of a bell, and although a bell is also rung towards the end of these periods, play may continue for up to ten minutes afterwards, depending on the nihilism or “bottle” of the participants with regard to corporal punishment met out to latecomers back to the classroom.

In practice there is a sliding scale of nihilism, from those who hasten to stand in line as soon as the bell rings, known as “poofs”, through those who will hang on until the time they estimate it takes the teachers to down the last of their gins and journey from the staffroom, known as “chancers”, and finally to those who will hang on until a teacher actually has to physically retrieve them, known as “bampots”.

This sliding scale is intended to radically alter the logistics of a match in progress, often having dramatic effects on the scoreline as the number of remaining participants drops. It is important, therefore, in picking the sides, to achieve a fair balance of poofs, chancers and bampots in order that the scoreline achieved over a sustained period of play - a lunchtime, for instance - is not totally nullified by a five-minute post-bell onslaught of five bampots against one.

The scoreline to be carried over from the previous period of the match is in the trust of the last bampots to leave the field of play, and may be the matter of some debate.

This must be resolved in one of the approved manners (see Adjudication).

Parameters

The object is to force the ball between two large, unkempt piles of jackets, in lieu of goalposts. These piles may grow or shrink throughout the match, depending on the number of participants and the prevailing weather. As the number of players increases, so shall the piles. Each jacket added to the pile by a new addition to a side should be placed on the inside, nearest the goalkeeper, thus reducing the target area.

It is also important that the sleeve of one of the jackets should jut out across the goalmouth, as it will often be claimed that the ball went “over the post” and it can henceforth be asserted that the outstretched
sleeve denotes the innermost part of the pile and thus the inside of the post.

The on-going reduction of the size of the goal is the responsibility of any respectable defence and should be undertaken conscientiously with resourcefulness and imagination.

In the absence of a crossbar, the upper limit of the target area is observed as being slightly above head height, although when the height at which a ball passed between the jackets is in dispute, judgement shall lie with an arbitrary adjudicator from one of the sides. He is known as the “best fighter”; his decision is final and may be enforced with physical violence if anyone wants to stretch a point.

In games on large open spaces, the length of the pitch is obviously denoted by the jacket piles, but the width is a variable. In the absence of roads, water hazards or “a big dug”, the width is determined by how far out the attacking winger has to meander before the pursuing defender gets fed up and lets him head back towards where the rest of the players are waiting, often as far as quarter of a mile away.

It is often observed that the playing area is “no’ a full-size pitch”. This can be invoked verbally to justify placing a wall of players eighteen inches from the ball at direct free kicks It is the formal response to “yards”, which the kick-taker will incant meaninglessly as he places the ball.

The Ball

There is a variety of types of ball approved for Primary School Football. I shall describe the most popular:

The rough-finish Mitre or Trophy 5. Half football, half Portuguese Man o’ War. On the verge of a ban in the European Court of Human Rights, this model is not for sale to children. Used exclusively by teachers during gym classes as a kind of aversion therapy. Made from highly durable fibre-glass, stuffed with neutron star and coated with dead jellyfish. Advantages: looks quite grown up, makes for high-scoring matches (keepers won’t even attempt to catch it). Disadvantages: scars or maims anything it touches.

Offside

There is no offside, for two reasons: one, “it’s not’ a full-size pitch”, and two, none of the players actually know what offside is. The lack of an offside rule gives rise to a unique sub-division of strikers. These players hang around the opposing goalmouth while play carries on at the other end, awaiting a long pass forward out of defence which they can help past the keeper before running the entire length of the pitch with their arms in the air to greet utterly imaginary adulation. These are known variously as “poachers”, “gloryhunters” and “fly wee bastarts”.

Adjudication

The absence of a referee means that disputes must be resolved between the opposing teams rather than decided by an arbiter. There are two accepted ways of doing this. 1. Compromise. An arrangement is devised that is found acceptable by both sides. Sway is usually given to an action that is in accordance with the spirit of competition, ensuring that the game does not turn into “a pure skoosh”. For example, in the event of a dispute as towhether the ball in fact crossed the line, or whether the ball has gone inside or “over” the post, the attacking side may offer the ultimatum: “Penalty or goal.” It is not recorded whether any side has ever opted for the latter. It is on occasions that such arrangements or ultimata do not prove acceptable to both sides that the second adjudicatory method comes into play.

Team Selection

To ensure a fair and balanced contest, teams are selected democratically in a turns-about picking process, with either side beginning as a one-man selection committee and growing from there. The initial selectors are usually the recognised two Best Players of the assembled group. Their first selections will be the two recognised Best Fighters, to ensure a fair balance in the adjudication process, and to ensure that they don’t have their own performances impaired throughout the match by profusely bleeding noses. They will then proceed to pick team-mates in a roughly meritocratic order, selecting on grounds of skill and tactical awareness, but not forgetting that while there is a sliding scale of players’ ability, there is also a sliding scale of players’ brutality and propensities towards motiveless violence. A selecting captain might baffle a talented striker by picking the less nimble Big Jazza ahead of him, and may explain, perhaps in the words of Linden B Johnson upon his retention of J Edgar Hoover as the head of the FBI, that he’d “rather have him inside the tent ****ing out, than outside the tent ****ing in”. Special consideration is also given during the selection process to the owner of the ball. It is tacitly acknowledged to be “his gemme”, and he must be shown a degree of politeness for fear that he takes the huff at being picked late and withdraws his favours. Another aspect of team selection that may confuse those only familiar with the game at senior level will be the choice of goalkeepers, who will inevitably be the last players to be picked. Unlike in the senior game, where the goalkeeper is often the tallest member of his team, in the playground, the goalkeeper is usually the smallest. Senior aficionados must appreciate that playground selectors have a different agenda and are looking for altogether different properties in a goalkeeper. These can be listed briefly as: compliance, poor fighting ability, meekness, fear and anything else that makes it easier for their team-mates to banish the wee bugger between the sticks while they go off in search of personal glory up the other end.

Tactics

Playground football tactics are best explained in terms of team formation. Whereas senior sides tend to choose - according to circumstance - from among a number of standard options (eg 4-4-2, 4-3-3, 5-3-2), the playground side is usually more rigid in sticking to the all-purpose 1-1-17 formation. This formation is a sturdy basis for the unique style of play, ball-flow and territorial give-and-take that makes the playground game such a renowned and strategically engrossing spectacle. Just as the 5-3-2 formation is sometimes referred to in practice as “Cattenaccio”, the 1-1-17 formation gives rise to a style of play that is best described as “Nomadic”. All but perhaps four of the participants (see also Offside) migrate en masse from one area of the pitch to another, following the ball, and it is tactically vital that every last one of them remains within a ten-yard radius of it at all times.

Stoppages

Much stoppage time in the senior game is down to injured players requiring treatment on the field of play. The playground game flows freer having adopted the refereeing philosophy of “no Post-Mortem, no free-kick”, and play will continue around and even on top of a participant who has fallen in the course of his endeavours. However, the playground game is nonetheless subject to other interruptions, and some examples are listed below.

1. Ball on school roof or over school wall. The retrieval time itself is negligible in these cases. The stoppage is most prolonged by the argument to decide which player must risk life, limb or four of the belt to scale the drainpipe or negotiate the barbed wire in order to return the ball to play. Disputes usually arise between the player who actually struck the ball and any others he claims it may have struck before disappearing into forbidden territory. In the case of the Best Fighter having been adjudged responsible for such an incident, a volunteer is often required to go in his stead or the game may be abandoned, as the Best Fighter is entitled to observe that A: “Ye canny make me”; or B: “It’s no’ ma baw anyway”.

2. Stray dog on pitch. An interruption of unpredictable duration. The dog does not have to make off with the ball, it merely has to run around barking loudly, snarling and occasionally drooling or foaming at the mouth. This will ensure a dramatic reduction in the number of playing staff as 27 of them simultaneously volunteer to go indoors and inform the teacher of the threat. The length of the interruption can sometimes be gauged by the breed of dog. A deranged Irish Setter could take ten minutes to tire itself of running in circles, for instance, while a Jack Russell may take up to fifteen minutes to corner and force out through the gates. An Alsatian means instant abandonment.

3. Bigger boys steal ball. A highly irritating interruption, the length of which is determined by the players’ experience in dealing with this sort of thing. The intruders will seldom actually steal the ball, but will improvise their own kickabout amongst themselves, occasionally inviting the younger players to attempt to tackle them. Standing around looking bored and unimpressed usually results in a quick restart. Shows of frustration and engaging in attempts to win back the ball can prolong the stoppage indefinitely. Informing the intruders that one of the players’ older brother is “Mad Chic Murphy” or some other noted local pugilist can also ensure minimum delay.

4. Celebration. Kneeling down to head the ball over the line when defence and keeper are already beaten will elicit a thoroughly deserved kicking. As a footnote, however, it should be stressed that any goal scored by the Best Fighter will be met with universal acclaim, even if it was lucky/crap/took a deflection.

Penalties

At senior level, each side often has one appointed penalty-taker, who will defer to a team-mate in special circumstances, such as his requiring one more for a hat-trick. The playground side has two appointed penalty-takers: the Best Player and the Best Fighter. The arrangement is simple: the Best Player takes the penalties when his side is a retrievable margin behind, and the Best Fighter at all other times. If the side is comfortably in front, the ball-owner may be invited to take a penalty. Goalkeepers are often the subject of temporary substitutions at penalties, forced to give up their position to the Best Player or Best Fighter, who recognise the kudos attached to the heroic act of saving one of these kicks, and are buggered if Wee Titch is going to steal any of it.

Close Season

This is known also as the Summer Holidays, which the players usually spend dabbling briefly in other sports: tennis for a fortnight while Wimbledon is on the telly; pitch-and-putt for four days during the Open; and cricket for about an hour and a half until they discover that it really is as boring to play as it is to watch.

My personal favourtite memory of playing playground fitba was when we stayed out late after the bell had gone one day (to take penalties to decide the winner of the lunchtime game on a Friday) which led to a group of us being denied our afternoon playtime and made to sit in the class. Not entirely remarkable but for the fact Barry Gray was swinging on his chair whilst holding his pencil in his hands that were cupped and sat on the desk in front of him. He was laughing so hard at something he swung forward and the pencil went flush right up his nose. I thought I was going to have a coronary at the age of 10 I was laughing so hard. Glory days indeed.

I never quite got The Smiths...

2007-11-29T09:34:00.000Z

Primarily because I found/find Morrissey so objectionable. They have some very good songs certainly and I do like some of them, but any time Morrissey opens his mouth I find myself trying to control the urge not to break something. I did think for a while that maybe he had mellowed in his old age and that maybe he was more pleasant. Of course I was wrong. He's still a tube. Evidence? Well, have a look here here. It's an article in The Independent concerning an interview that he's given to the NME out today. Some choice cuts from the article if you can't be bothered reading the whole thing:

"England is a memory now," he says, in an interview with the NME published yesterday. "The gates are flooded and anybody can have access to England and join in."

and

"Although I don't have anything against people from other countries, the higher the influx into England the more the British identity disappears. So the price is enormous. Travel to England and you have no idea where you are. It matters because the British identity is very attractive. I grew up into it and I find it very quaint and amusing. Other countries have held on to their basic identity, yet it seems to me that England was thrown away."

Ah, of course! That old chestnut of conflating Britishness and Englishness. Indeed. I nearly forgot that Britain (purports) to represent Scotland, England, Ireland and Wales. And that's before I even get on to the irony of somebody who was shacked up in the Hollywood Hills for years, but now lives in Rome, who is the son of Irish immigrants talking about the gates being flooded and anyone getting access to join in. Yes, must have been a real killer for you to be able to be raised in England after your parents moved there, make all your money and then move to wherever you wanted to in the world, Steve. Xenophobic undertones? No not at all. Honest. Having made your money then buggered off after some less than well-received press in, oh wait! The NME! Surprise! Obviously Stevie-boy doesn't consider himself as diluting the culture of Rome or Hollywood whenever he decides to live somewhere other than where he was born. So is it on the basis of class or race that he has a problem with immigrants in Britain? Old Stevie makes his comments sufficiently vague as per usual so as to build up some mystery about what he really means. Only there's no real mystery is there?

What is the British identity anyway? Britain is a mongrel nation, just like more or less all nations. The notion of a particular British identity puzzles me. What is it? Allegiance to the Queen? Stiff upper lip? Adherence to the notion of Empire? Desire to be at the top table in world affairs? Pride in being a part of a group of countries? Drinking tea? Obviously most readers of this blog have a fairly good idea of what my opinions on the matter are, but I am genuinely puzzled by the ideal of a British identity. Morrissey's ill-advised comments regarding being flooded with immigrants are as repulsive as Enoch Powell's 'Rivers of Blood' speech nearly 40 years ago. Aye, maybe Morrissey is the new Enoch Powell?! Britain has a proud history of helping those less fortunate (well, except during times of Empire when it was busy shafting those less fortunate wherever possible) by providing a safe haven from persecution and it has contributed markedly towards Britain being a forward looking multicultural society. Even though I don't necessarily agree with the idea of there being a Britain per se, I still find Morrissey's musings offensive. He's controversial for the sake of being controversial- a desperate man desperate for reccognition in the twilight of his career. And here I am giving him it! Morrissey has the last laugh as always! A sad, desperate, misanthrope laughing at me? Boo hoo.

Social networking, Sonic and my youth.

2007-11-23T12:27:00.000Z

So social networking is all the rage these days- facebook, myspace, bebo and so forth are all worth stupid amounts of money and used by stupid amounts of people. I put my hands up, I love playing scrabulous on facebook and it is a great way to keep in contact with people as well as finding people you haven't seen in donkey's years. However, even more fun than any of that is finding ancient console games that you haven't played since you were 11. Like Sonic! Anyone with a facebook account can play it here. Anyone without a facebook account can play it here. It reminded me of Saturday afternoons spent in Perth walking from the Scottish Power shop to John Menzies to CA Games in the hope that one of their console advertisement games would be available to play. Scottish Power had Sonic, John Menzies had F-Zero and CA Games had the holy grail of SNES gaming, Street Fighter II Turbo- imported from America! I remember watching a Street Fighter II tournament of all the supposedly best gamers in Perth in this crammed little shop and being quite jealous that I wasn't involved. In saying that these guys were in their twenties and clearly total geeks so in retrospect there's not so much jealousy going on now. I do still love Street Fighter II though- I think it's unmatched in terms of one on one fighting games. That's not bad going for a game that's about 14 years old or so. Or I've just not gotten over it. So, in honour of my misspent youth (and not so youthful) game playing, my favourite games in no particular order are:

1. Street Fighter Two Turbo (SNES)
2. Goldeneye (N64- is there a more fun four player game?)
3. Championship Manager (PC/Mac- I've lost months of my life to this)
4. Pro Evolution Soccer 4 (XBox- probably my favourite football game)
5. Metal Gear Solid 2 (Playstation- so good!)
6. Mario Kart (SNES- Best. Driving. Game. Ever.)
7. Final Fight (SNES- although a poor relation to the arcade version that allowed you to play Guy)
8. Smackdown (Playstation- Royal Rumble option was AMAZING!)
9. Tetris (Gameboy- everyone's favourite right?)
10. Urban Strike (Sega Mega Drive- how much fun was it flying about Washington?)

Man, why can't there be one system that plays all the old console games you love with interchangeable joypads? Now THAT I would buy.

Personality test.

2007-11-23T09:43:00.001Z

I'm always interested in personality tests that I either find or get sent to me on the web. I usually find them fairly easy to manipulate depending on what I feel like I want to be told that day. So this morning I became an animated leader! Look! PersonalDNA told me so. Or something. Scroll over each colour and you can see what it means.

Confidence
84

Openness
44

Extroversion
90

Empathy
26

Trust in others
100

Agency
22

Masculinity
90

Femininity
60

Spontaneity
60

Attention to style
48

Authoritarianism
12

Earthy/Imaginative
ImaginativeEarthy
74

Aesthetic/Functional
FunctionalAesthetic
64

Hmm an animated leader makes me think of Optimus Prime rather than a guy who jumps about a bunch whilst telling people what to do. I think I prefer my interpretation.

Glasgow, 2057.

2007-11-20T18:48:00.000Z

As most readers will be aware, Glasgow was home to myself for around 9 years and continues to play a fairly dominant role in my life what with one of its universities employing me. So, it was with more than a touch of interest that I read this. Visions of Glasgow in 2057 as imagined by Glasgow School of Art studnts? Good stuff. I wonder what they came up with? Well, the BBC kindly offered some images of what the Dear Green Place would look like 50 years from now:

This apparently is what Glasgow Green Beach would look like, with all sorts of facilities along the banks. Like more hotels and stuff. I'm not entirely sure whether this is the North or South of the river. Probably the North right?

Kind of like a more modern Whitley Bay/Morecambe I suspect. Or indeed a Glasgow version of Coney Island?! Perhaps they could reimagine The Warriors with neds chasing each other? I'd be entertained to see the face painted baseball bat gang redone!

Then we'd have some boat racing by Hampden. Just the ticket for the regeneration of some of the poorest areas in Scotland!

When I think of boats and Glasgow I'm reminded of the Still Game episode when the neds drop a tv through Jack and Victor's dinghy on the Kelvin.

Which in no way shape or form leads me to the idea of a market under the M8! I like this idea- London has Porobello Market which stretches all the way down under the Westway road. Why would we have to wait until 2057 to do something London has had all these years? A big old farmers market on a weekend would be great. Just have to find a spot.

Below would be a wildlife reserve at Clydeport. I believe there is already one in Possil, another in Easterhouse and another in Shettleston. I think they call them housing schemes though.

And then there is the imagining (and I use the term advisedly) of Shawfield Stadium which would be Clyde FC's new home, and I quote "Fans would vote online every game to decide the colour of the stadium's outer skin depending on the mood of the crowd." I don't think it would take long to tally up 11 votes right enough.

We then have a City Farm! Again, London has one of these in Hackney and it is a great idea. Easy enough to implement and not difficult to maintain.

I do like how they've managed to keep those manky high-rises in the 'imagining'. Those things would be about 100 years old by this point. Does anybody seriously think they'll last that long? I very much doubt it. Basil Spence would be pleased to see them still in there though!

Then there is a new island creaated slap bang in the middle of the Clyde opposite the new BBC building.

I guess there is no harm in this since the Clyde is no longer a working river where the city surrounds it. Which is a bit of a shame really as there is no reason why it couldn't be.

Staying on the subject of the Clyde- here is an idea for a living bridge, like the Ponte Vecchio in Florence. I was a big fan of that idea for what is now the Clyde Arc, or as it is more colloquially known, the Squinty Bridge. A living bridge would have breathed far more life into the area south of the river, but instead we get a fairly unimaginative crossing. Now there is a surprise.

Lastly we have a 'new area' of Glasgow suggested based on London's cultural centre the Southbank. Sounds like a good idea, although the design below looks like an oversized version of the new BBC building. Hardly an attractive site for what could be an excellent idea.

Oh well.

All joking aside, I like that people are begining to think of Glagow again as a vibrant place where development can and should take place. In saying that, some of the ideas are not great, but they are at least thinking about it. Still, it kind of reminds me of an old newspaper clipping I found in the University of Glasgow's business archives in the Hugh Fraser collection:

Past futurology or present futurology? I think I like the idea of driving through the city at a 'compulsory 50mph!', if only to avoid being on the Kingston Bridge when it finally collapses! I'm quite sure that the ideas about Glasgow 50 years from now will probably be met with the same abject disgust that many people hold for the ideas of 50 years or so previously when concrete was becoming more and more prevalent in buildings. Still, it is at least good to have an idea of where the city may end up going that's not the dogs. (Shawfield excluded) Woof!

Birthday.

2007-11-19T14:51:00.000Z

Since it was my birthday a few weeks ago I figured it would be a good idea to do a belated birthday blog of sorts.

People I'm not displeased to share my birthday with:

Adolf Dassler, founder of Adidas.
Charles Bronson, American actor.
John Barry, English composer.
Bert Jansch, Scottish folk musician.
Gerd Müller, German footballer.
Adam Ant, English singer.
Dolph Lundgren, Swedish actor.
Hal Hartley, American film director and writer.
Pablo Aimar, Argentine footballer.

People I'm not best pleased to share my birthday with:

Lulu, Plasticated British actress and singer.
Roseanne Barr, American actress and 'comedian'. The inverted commas are mine. She's about as funny as cot-death.
Ian Wright, English footballer. Celtc's best ever signing.
Robert Miles, Swiss record producer, composer and musician in trance and ambient music. Worst. Music. Ever.

People who had the misfortune to kick the bucket on my birthday:

Henri Matisse (he at least had the good grace to do it before I was born so as not to detract from my celebrations)

St Pancras.

2007-11-15T17:04:00.000Z

St Pancras reopened yesterday, so I went along today for a wee look with Richie and Duncan. It's amazing! The roof looks fantastic and there is a very good meeting of old and new in it. I was so impressed I took a bunch of pictures, primarily of the roof. It has self-cleaning glass you know. Why can't our glasses be made of self-cleaning glass?

I like St Pancras. Although the Baby Betjeman cafe was crap- no veggie breakfast and it took an age to get a tea and a coffee. Still, it wasn't like there wasn't an amazing example of restored Victorian architecture to gawp at while we waited. When life gives you lemons and all that...

Nintendo Wii.

2007-11-14T16:00:00.001Z

My sister has been hunting for one of these consoles for Christmas, which of course means she has roped me into looking for one. To cut a long story short, I found her one on the German Amazon site for about 200 quid. Which is a fair bit cheaper than what the profiteering bastards at PC World are selling their stock for. Have a look here. Unbelievable. I know the laws of supply and demand, but that's still an outrageous price. I suppose any idiot that is prepared to pay that for it deserves to be ripped off.

Some honeymoon snaps.

2007-11-13T11:40:00.000Z

I realise it is the cliche that every newly married couple wants to show people their honeymoon snaps and how it is usually very boring for the viewer, but I don't care. It's my blog and if I want to post pictures of pretty things on it then I will! Don't worry, I don't feature in any of them. They are mostly of Loch Fyne and the surrounding area.

Par example:

The water was so still that it was almost impossible not to take a good picture.

Mitch was very keen to see what it was like.

So she went for a wee dip and got learned. I tried to tell her that Loch Fyne was a coastal loch and was freezing!

She looks much happier in this picture than she actually was. She was shivering so hard it looked like there were two of her.

Still, the sunset was so pretty that I took about a million photos, here are some:

The sun cast a pretty pall over the boats on the loch and their moorings.

And one more sunset for posterity:

Loch Fyne really is beautiful, about an hour and a bit from Glasgow and you could be in the middle of nowhere. Or 18 miles from Dunoon...

It has some lovely wildlife. You should be cautious though, there are red squirrels (?!).

Mitch was amused by the sign too:

The Loch also has a pretty castle at Inverary, of course. It's a funny green colour too:

Inverary also has the best looking car park I've seen in a long time, and possibly the oldest:

It dates to the 18th century. Who knew the Scots invented car parks before cars were even invented eh? Top bombing. That's another one added to the list.

After Inverary we went along the coast of the loch to the Loch Fyne Oyster Bar, a renowned shellfish and seafood purveyor. They had pretty shellfish:

That ended up on Mitch's plate!

Check the size of that crab.

The Loch Fyne Mirror.

2007-11-13T11:32:00.001Z

Loch Fyne mirror 3, originally uploaded by mysterio!.

Can only be seen when the water is REALLY still...

I know I know!

2007-11-04T23:02:00.000Z

I've already boasted about getting a good Scrabble score on Scrabulous on Facebook on here, but I managed another belter today that I feel obliged to share with you all. I managed to get all seven letters out on one move, as well as on TWO triple word score squares! I played unitages and garnered a total of 122 points for my troubles.

LOOK!:

I'm such a geek.

Guy Fawkes = Bam.

2007-11-02T18:26:00.000Z

I don't think Guy Fawkes was a bam for any political reason, more that he inadvertently gave rise to the hideous concept of bonfire night and the ensuing cacophony of fireworks being set off for the weeks leading up to and after it. I loathe fireworks with every last ounce of my body. It is beyond me that for whatever reason people are given more or less free reign on gunpowder to do as they will. I was on the Tube today at North Wembley (that arch is massive by the way) when a group of schoolkids thought it would be entertaining to throw a firework into a crowded carriage. If it had caught fire on somebody's bag/jacket/whatever then you'd have been looking at a very dangerous and unpleasant situation. It didn't thankfullly, but it reinforced my abhorrence for the bloody things. They serve no discernible benefit to society, cause numerous injuries and deaths each year, are exceedingly dangerous and yet completely legal. Why? What good reason is there for it? They should be banned forthwith and the remaining jammed up the nearest fireworks advocate's backside to see how much they like them then. As I said, Guy Fawkes = Bam.

Well well well.

2007-11-02T08:16:00.000Z

It turns out, according to a Herald report, that Scotland isn't the 'subsidy junky' filled nation Red Ken and that clown Kelvin MacKenzie (how it pains me to share a surname with this moron) have been claiming it is. More details here. Hmm, I guess that means that the SNP's claims may have been a little more accurate than the London-loving Scottish Labour Party gave them credit for. Now why does that not surprise me? Oh wait, is it because the Scottish Labour Party has consistently sold out to the South? Aye, in one. Quelle surprise!

Dear Ken and Kelvin,

Please read the above link with care and apologise for your inaccurate pronouncements and general ignorance of anything North of Watford. Oh and GIRUY you pair of muppets.

Best,

Niall

New favourite quote #9.

2007-10-31T19:29:00.000Z

"I don't need to eat poo to know it tastes like crap."

- Mitch complaining about the juice I bought that she HASN'T EVEN tasted yet, 31/10/07.

My only source of REAL facts.

2007-10-28T11:54:00.000Z

Click on the link to StackFacts on the right. It's the only source of REAL facts on the net. It's amazing what you can learn there.

Not really the last bastion of impartiality, but...

2007-10-28T11:27:00.000Z

I saw this on the Telegraph's website. Nice to see those political luminaries Claire "Tony Lied to me!" Short and Gorgeous George Galloway providing such value for money. I for one never doubted Galloway's commitment to parliamentary democracy when he was prancing around on Celebrity Big Brother dressed in a fetching red spandex leotard with Pete Burns in tow.

Not once. Honest.