Nick's Blog
Trafalgar Blog
29/5/2007 @ 12:11
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Trafalgar Square: A true London landmark designed to show proudly to the world British sea power, victory over Napoleon and the majesty of Victorian London.
To the north of the square, the magnificent National Gallery and its collection of art rivalled only by the Louvre in Paris. To the East, the splendour of the church of St. Martin In The Fields and it's world famous choir. To the West, the Canadian high commission, a building to match the vastness and beauty of the Canadian landscape alongside the arches of Admiralty House that lead to Buckingham Palace and to the south, a wonderful view of the Houses of Parliament. But the glory of Trafalgar Square is Nelson's Column: Lording it high over all of us is the greatest naval leader the world has ever seen and at the base, 4 imposing bronze lions. There's a large fountain, statues of 3 equally brave fighters who are immortalised in stone and bronze and the famous 4th empthy plinth. Truly one of London's greatest attractions.
But in true modern British style, it's been dumbed down and turned into London's miniature novelty amusement park. Last week, they put a lawn in the square to make it more like a village green. Yes, because that's what's missing from Trafalgar Square, that village atmosphere. Previously, they've used the square as a party zone for Australia Day, Brazil Day, Cuba Day, St. Andrew's Day, St. Patrick's Day (but not St. George's Day). It's hosted softball games, water sports, circus acts and let's not forget the annual drunken sprawl on New Year's Eve. The 4th plinth has had sculptures of overgrown weeds, thalidomide victims, a gay jesus and a glacier mint on it, making whatever they put up there a jarring eyesore compared to what surrounds it.
Basically, whatever is post-modern, or trendy or experiemental...the London Mayor Ken Livingstone will try it out in Trafalgar Square. Now regular readers here will know that I don't have a lot of time for Ken...but with his constant use of it as a rent-a-showspace venue, he's displaying a vulgar taste in art and entertainment. I'm now thinking Ken is a guy who thinks orange, green and purple are complimentary colours. That microscooters, singing bass fish, Burberry baseball caps, super wide screen televisions, QVC and the Men and Motors channel are the epitomy of fine culture.
What it comes down to is turning Trafalgar Square into something it isn't. Into something it never was and wasn't designed to be: A public party venue, open air art exhibition and fairground. It was a celebration of Britain being saved from invasion thanks to the efforts of one man. A celebration of what the nation meant and was (and in some cases, still is). It was modified over the years to contain the statues of those who faced down the odds, like Nelson did, and if they have the slight whiff of Empire about them, then it is only a trace: Trafalgar Square is not about Imperial power and shows little signs of such outside of the three statues of generals and statesmen. They know they're the supporting players in the square and that the one armed dude 100 feet up is the true star. Unlike its neighbour, Picadilly Circus, Trafalgar Square is not brash, colourful and theatrical; it's powerful but not overwhelming, stylish but not garish and everything seems designed to fit together in terms of stone and style, but at the same time each component, from the National Gallery, the church, the column and Admiralty House are separate and distinct.
This is why I object to making the place such a vulgar spectacle for whatever daft idea some arts or cultural group wants to do this week. It's like taking your dapper and mannered uncle down to Top Shop for a makeover. It does neither any credit. The fame and beauty of Trafalgar Square has made it a magnet for wide boy spivs like Ken Livingstone to exploit it for commercial and branding purposes.
It's not a village green, it's not a showcase for modern British art, it's not a nightclub, or a carnival venue, or a bloody good place for a water fight. As young student tourists prostate themselves across one of the lions in order to get a whacky photo of themselves in London, the true magnificence of the square gets further lost. Are we so ashamed of our history that we have to splash our buildings and landscapes with anything new and garish to detract from our past?
Snakes on a Blog
25/5/2007 @ 14:21
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Great news story today...a man was arrested for trying to smuggle 700 snakes onto a plane, but he was stopped just before he got onto it. So it was Almost Snakes on a Motherf**king Plane. Not quite starring Samuel L. Jackson.
Blog Pickers, Not 'Arf
22/5/2007 @ 10:27
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It was pointed out to me yesterday that that a Boyzone song, that so many girls go weak at the knees at, has a nasty meaning if you examine it a bit more...
"You say it best, when you say nothing at all..."
In other words, shut up. I love you more girl when you JUST SHUT YOUR STUPID MOUTH!
Peering at the lyrics of other songs indicates that instead of being the great romantic odes to lift our spirits, they're instead nothing more than creepy, controlling or downright rude.
"Every breath you take every step you make I'll be watching you..."
Sting was remanded in custody today for stalking his long time girlfriend, Mandy Pules. Mr. Sting had even gone to the extent of installing a meter in Miss Pules' house that could measure her breathing from his surveillance van parked across the road.
"I'm crazy for crying
I'm crazy for trying
I'm crazy for loving you"
Because my doctor says that the normal and sane thing to do is not love you at all. Normal men don't date girls like you! FREAK!
"I've never seen you looking so lovely as you did tonight
I've never seen you shine so bright
I've never seen so many men ask you if you wanted to dance
They're looking for a little romance, given half a chance
I have never seen that dress you're wearing
Or the highlights in your head that catch your eyes I have been blind
The lady in red is dancing with me cheek to cheek"
Notice the structure here. All the way along Mr. DeBurgh is talking to a lady he's fond of and buttering her up with compliments. Then he blows it by changing from taking directly to her to referring to a "Lady In Red"; some mysterious third person. So it's a case of "darling, you look fabulous, all the other guys are jealous of me, that dress...wow, knockout...and I like the way you've done your hair BUT...I'm going to dance with this lady in red over here for a bit....cheek to cheek as well! Maybe later we could do a threesome?
"Tie a Yellow Ribbon 'round the old oak tree...."
The last line gives us an insight into this depraved convict who has lulled us into thinking he's written a romantic song.
"Now the whole damned bus is cheering..."
Yeah, bastards! I tell them my life story and now they make this racket! I hate 'em! Morons! Scum!
"And I can't believe I see..."
They didn't teach us much book learnin' or grammar in the joint.
"A hundred yellow ribbons round that old oak tree"
Just how many women was this guy writing to whilst he was in the slammer? "Better hedge my bets in case one or two of them say 'no'". And he got them to tie ribbons around the same tree? Surely, if he was going to be extra careful he'd say "Tie a yellow ribbon round the old oak tree/lamp post/electricity pylon/letterbox/the abandoned Ford by the reservoir/the neighbourhood cat...." to whoever he was writing to.
Maybe it was one woman who in her zeal tied 100 yellow ribbons to the old oak tree? In which case, whoa, she's a bit creepy. Man, can't that woman understand a simple instruction such as tie A yellow ribbon? Singular. Imagine the logistics of that as well..."I'd like enough yellow ribbon to make 100 lengths to tie around that old oak tree by the bus stop please". "Hmmm, we might not have enough yellow ribbon...would orange do?" "No, it's got to be yellow or he'll stay on the bus and forget about us"
And furthermore...he's on the bus, a moving vehicle, with a load of cheering passengers and he has the time to count the number of ribbons around that tree.
Blog Match Special
18/5/2007 @ 15:24
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Here's a statement you don't hear everyday: That the Eurovision song contest and cricket have a lot in common.
Apart from the obvious ones: No one knows quite how they started, they go on intermidably, often get confusing results, England used to do well at it and in one day cricket in particular, the outfits are quite garish and tasteless. But there's another similarity and it ain't positive.
In both, the balance of power has shifted from West to East. I don't want to malign the people of "The East", whether they be Eastern Europe or Asia, but because of a mixture of pride, money and desire to win, both the Eurovision Song Contest and Cricket have hurtled into a messy situation that will be very difficult to get out of.
We all know that Eurovision has been tinged with policital bias over the years, but what was a naughty prank by a cheeky rascal (Cyprus) has now become a blatant bit of mob rule. The control of the Eastern Bloc nations over the contest means that a Western European nation will probably never win it again. Once, the UK, France, Holland, Germany, Italy and the other Western European nations probably voted for the least worst song and the winners generally were worthy...given the nature of the contest (the exception was Italy's 1991 winner "Europe Together In 1992" which had the misfortune of being a) a bad tune b) playing to politics and c) pretty bad politics at that). Now, you can stand on a bucket dressed as a banana singing "Ping Ping Ping" and win because you're a fellow Slav! It's nothing more than a two fingered salute to the successful music industries of the West and so we find that the balance of power has shifted...we magnanimously allowed a whole new bunch of nations to compete and what they've done is taken the whole thing and having fun whilst we stand on the fringes going "oh come on, give us a go!"
The same thing in Cricket. Australia have taken a bold stance in refusing to tour Zimbabwe but there's a threat that the ICC might punish them for that stance. They've been hard on nations who don't want to tour there before. There's too much greed as well with meaningless tournaments being staged, burning out cricketers and clogging up the schedules so that players don't get time to practice before the next big match. The game is suffering but the ICC won't do anything because the balance of power has shifted to South Asia and out there cricket is a big money earner and money talks. The World Cup just gone was a travesty of business over sport and the pursuit of money over pleasure.
What both events need is a real coming together of both sides: West and East recognising that there's a problem which needs dealing with to make both viable and credible again. But when one side is raking in the success and money, why should they share with the rest?
Spock's Blog
14/5/2007 @ 15:27
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What a contrast in music this weekend. On saturday there was the Eurovision Song Contest. This is an event that is rapidly losing what little interest it once had. You know the drill: Laugh at the silly costumes, sit through some dross in the safe knowledge that the UK still does the best pop music but hey, let's give the Continentals a chance, nod at the one or two worthy songs that deserve to win and chuckle at Wogan's commentary. Now it's been ruined by the East-West split. I'm convinced that a Western European country will never win Eurovision again because it's now descended into a game of everyone vote for the country to your right or left depending on what you did last year. It seems that the rest of the country couldn't really be bothered summoning up any enthusiasm for the contest this year.
By contrast, there was Spock's Beard at the Mean Fiddler last night. I've been raving about the Beard for a few years now, and I've never been disappointed by them live. Few bands have as much fun on stage as they do without descending into farce or theatrics....Serbia take note. It's a shame they can only do one London concert whenever they tour because now if you're convinced by my recommendation, you're going to have to go to Belgium to catch them live next!
Blog and Key
09/5/2007 @ 10:56
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This week, I have been mostly waiting for delivery men.
As part of grown up living, one must accept that women, and wifeys in particular, have grand designs on modifying, improving and renovating homes. My Wifey, for example, is seldom happier when she's perusing through the catalogues of Homebase, Wickes or any other hardware or home improvement chain of stores that cares to advertise on Rhubba.com.
So her project becomes, natch, my project. A ton of topsoil needs to be ordered for the Big Garden Improvement and a complete suite ordered for the Really Big Bathroom Improvement. Now as she earns gazillions of filthy lucre at Consolidated Multinational or wherever it is she works and I, the humble artiste, am cooped up in my garret (well, my home office more like), it naturally falls apon me to stay at home and await the delivery men with their wares for our home.
Waiting for delivery men is like being under house arrest: You can't move and you are restricted to your property for the duration. I can't take a shower, lest the delivery men show up, knock on the door, and assume I'm not in because I'm in the shower. So they leave and a new delivery date is made for 6 months down the line.
I look in my wallet and discover I'm a bit light on cash...so I can't order a pizza or Chinese meal because going to the cashpoint will take me off the property and would you know it, they would surely arrive during those 3 1/2 minutes I'm away down at the local shops getting money. So I have a choice, starve or attempt to make a meal from plain spaghetti with a dollop or margerine and the dregs at the bottom of a jar of Schwartz dried mixed herbs.
Everything I do is geared to that knock at the door. I can't do anything that will impede my ability to hear the knock and respond to it in under 60 seconds. No air guitar playing to Deep Purple's "Speed King" with my headphones on, no protracted toilet breaks, no computer games that rely on speed and reflexes and no engrossing movies either.
So, it's a day of watching "Cash in the Attic" and "Loose Women", eating plain pasta and not going to the toilet whilst waiting for someone to show up eventually although you have no idea when....sorry, amend what I said earlier. This isn't like being under house arrest, it's like being in the 9th Circle of Hell.
09/5/2007 @ 10:34
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Sunblog
03/5/2007 @ 15:25
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Great news item on the Today Show this morning:
"Climate experts warn against wearing light cotton see through clothing in the sunshine...they recommend people wear denim and woollen garments instead."
Now, is this
a) Sensible advice
b) A misprint
c) Proof that scientists are becoming increasingly mad
d) They've had a bet as to whether any of us are gullible enough to walk around in the sunshine wearing a woolly jumper and a denim leisure suit
Climate experts warn we must wear wool and denim in summer....doctors warn we mustn't become overheated and dehydrated. Either way, they get their headline and we get screwed.
When John Humphrys interviewed a climate expert, the man warned about wearing thin, see through clothing in areas where there is bright, unfiltered sunlight for long periods of the day. Which begs the question, where those places are: Barbados? Queensland? Benidorm? Eastbourne?
"The places on the Earth which have significant unfiltered sunlight and where prolonged exposure is dangerous are the polar icecaps." He said.
Right. Remind me never to wear light, see through cotton shirts when I'm next there. I wouldn't want to get skin cancer.
