Autumn leaves lie thick and still

Interesting.

Perhaps it is as simple as "because it's awesome"?

Caligula would have blushed

Warning, if you have any musical taste whatsoever, this might be painful.

Still want read on?

The NME published this today. It probably doesn't need much comment. In some ways I am surprised that some of the more recent X-Factor efforts haven't made it on there, but perhaps we should be thankful for small mercies.

However, it is a pathetic list. Kylie aside, there really is hardly a decent pop song on there. In fact, let's not beat about the bush. There isn't. I'm not expecting it to be a list of songs that I really like - best-selling, after all, doesn't necessarily mean good and I have exquisite taste, after all. But even supposing, there have been some great pop songs released in this decade which don't feature. Where's Toxic or Crazy in Love for example. It's even more surprising given the fact that you only have to sell about 2 records to get to number one these days. The thing about this list as well is that it isn't subjective in any way - these are the records that have sold the most. There isn't any debate about it. That is why it is even more depressing.

I'd love to believe the whole "oh it is because the kids are downloading and sharing these days, rather than buying", but I'm not sure I believe it.

I'm officially depressed.

Hide on the promenade, etch a postcard

As I dozed through the Archers omnibus (ah blissful Sunday mornings), and awoke properly to the strains of Barwick Green, I did hear the announcer say "and Kirsty Young's guest on Desert Island Discs this morning is Morrissey".

I wasn't sure for a moment, but not my ears were not deceiving me. It was true. And it meant for the first time probably since George Michael was on, I could listen with a genuine interest in what he had to say and, more importantly, what records he chose. I'm not a fan, particularly, but I find him a very interesting man.

It still seems kind of odd that he was on, but he was really very funny and most of the time, Kirsty Young seemed unsure of whether he was being serious or not.

If you haven't heard it, you can get it on iPlayer. It's worth it.

Promise me baby you won't let them find us

Covers of songs can be items of wonder. They can also be lazy ways of securing a big hit for a band. Your audience are already aware of it, even subconsciously - someone else has done the hard work. However, get it right and it can be a marvel. Some improve on the original; some just try and do something a little bit different; some might just be a bit of a rehash - that's not necessarily wrong. It depends if you do it well or not. A lot might depend upon whether or not you have heard the original or not. I remember years ago buying Paul Young's debut album and on it he covers Love Will Tear Us Apart by Joy Division. Being a young naive whippersnapper at the time, I didn't know any better and thought it was a cool song. And vaguely wondered by lots of people writing in the "serious music press" (which I was just beginning to flirt with) were appalled and aghast at his cover. Fast forward a couple of years and I soon got what they meant. Not saying that some songs are sacrosanct, but yeah some are.

One of my favourite covers is Sonic Youth's version of Superstar by the Carpenters. (OK technically not true, since the Carpenters didn't do the original, but I think theirs is the definitive version). I love the Carpenters version, even though, given the right (or perhaps wrong) amount of alcohol it can make me cry. However, the Sonic Youth version blows me away. I bought the Juno soundtrack purely to get my hands on it (yes, I know I could have bought a download, but sometimes you just want to hold something in your hot little hands). I don't know whether it's the fact that it's a male vocal, which subverts it slightly, or whether it is because although there is undoubtedly lots of noisy swirly (technical music term) and it builds up nicely, they resist the urge to do the obvious and turn it into a full on noisefest. Whatever it is, it is awesome.

Hold me now It's hard for me to say I'm sorry

Except it really isn't. Or at least, that is the way it seems to me.

In the last few days we've had Cameron and Brown apologising for having their photos taken at the Remembrance Day service. Now, call me stupid, but is that really so bad? Isn't this what happens with politicians? They get photographed at things? Surely there are worse crimes. And we've also had Katie Price apologising to the nation for the way she has been behaving for the past 7 months. I really don't care - it has nothing at all to do with me. Or anyone really, except her immediate family and friends. Why the rest of the nation?

Like when Bill Clinton apologised during the whole Monica Lewinsky scandal. My only problem with the whole thing was that he fibbed, because it was disappointing and gave his detractors even more ammunition against him. I didn't especially care whether he had been unfaithful. As far as I was concerned, it was a matter for him and his wife and perhaps daughter. It made no difference to whether he was a good president or not.

I don't often agree with Ann Widdicome, but at the height of the expenses furore, she summed it up rather aptly as having the potential of turning into a "my shirt is hairier than yours" competition. Spot on. Rather than stop to think about how maybe saying that something is "within the rules" is missing the point somewhat, even if technically true, the obsession seems to be with saying sorry. It's like a competition of who can be the most sorry. "I'm sorry". "No, I'm sorry". "Well, I'm sorrier". "No, sorry, you are wrong, I am the sorry one". It's even worse when you get one person apologising on behalf of hundreds of other people. "We're sorry, we know it is wrong....blah blah blah".

Don't get me wrong. There is a place for a sincere apology. When you've done something wrong, it is only right that you should apologise. But this mania for apologising now, well, it's all getting to be a bit too much and when it happens that often, it can begin to sound , dare I say, ever just a little bit fake. We seem to be a nation hooked on apologising. I find it all just a bit depressing.

Sorry.

I met the devil in a dark white room Said she was up for me to play the fool

I bought 3 CDs this week. I shouldn't have. But I don't care.

I bought Them Crooked Vultures, Spinnerette and Sweethead (oh, they are all eponymously titled - hmmm. lazy), and what a triumvirate. I don't think I've ever bought 3 albums at once that have been so spectacularly good. I'd normally shy away from multiple purchases as one will inevitably suffer in comparison with the others.

Not so far. I bought Them Crooked Vultures to see such a supergroup would sound like (I love the Foo Fighters and QOTSA, really don't like Led Zep); Spinnerette probably too (although I had heard Ghetto Love and loved it, so I did have a sound musical reason)was because I think Brody Dalle is cool and I had heard one of the singles and liked it; Sweethead I saw supporting The Eagles of Death Metal a few weeks ago, and I thought they were awesome (in spite of not being to hear the vocals - the O2 arena here (or whatever the hell it is called now) is renowned for bad sound).

This isn't going to be any in depth critique of the music, but I am loving the albums. The Spinnerette one today has been particularly occupying my time (the term chain-listening could apply here). It opens with a kind of My Sharona for the new generation, with a rasping hey that was missing from the Knack's song. Song of the moment is Geeking tho, which once it finishes makes me want to hit the back button so I can listen to it all over again.

I want to be Brody Dalle.

Slow change may pull us apart

Where has all the time gone? I cannot believe how long it has been since I blogged. I can only apologize to you, dear readers, and promise that I won't leave you for so long again.

What a summer it has been in terms of people dying before their time. I know it happens every year, probably every day in the real world. But I'm talking about famous people, people that you didn't know, but touched or informed your lives in some way.

It's different when you are young. I can remember when Elvis died, because when the newsreader announced it, my mum was standing in the doorway to our kitchen and she started crying. I never liked the newsreader after that but I wasn't shocked. He was in his 40s. That seemed old to me.

I remember when John Lennon died. I knew my parents liked the Beatles, so I ran and told them. I recall being vaguely shocked, but then again., I probably thought he was old.

I remember being properly shocked when River Phoenix died. He wasn't much older than me - he was young! My generation.

The worst was when Kurt Cobain died. I was in a flat in Glasgow watching the news when the newsreader said "A body has been found at the home of the lead singer of the rock group Nirvana's ..." We knew before he said anymore that this wasn't going to have a happy ending. And one of the things I remember most was that he pronounce the band's name as "near-vana". I think I might have cried for about 3 days, especially when BBC2 showed the Unplugged. And I wore my Kurt Cobain t-shirt to my first exam.


That's why this summer was interesting in terms of my reaction to the highest profile celebrity deaths. Michael Jackson died while I was on holiday, and when I was told that he had died, I didn't believe it initially - I thought it was a wind up. So, I was shocked and felt sad enough about it because it was unexpected and he wasn't that old, but it didn't really affect me. I'd never been a fan as such.

It was different when I heard John Hughes was dead. A friend said to me that she was more bummed about John Hughes dying than Michael Jackson and I totally agree with this. I hadn't probably thought about him in years, and probably hadn't seen any of his films in years (in terms of new ones). I'm not sure I could name any. But some of the films he directed or produced in the 1980s informed my film tastes quite profoundly. The Breakfast Club is a great film. I loved it when it came out and I still do. It stands up as a great film, even when you aren't the same age as the characters in it. (There may be a sight element of understanding where the teacher is coming from which was missing when I first watched it. And the scene where Emilio Estevez's character screams and the glass breaks stops it from being a truly awesome film. But this is a blog entry in its own right).

And then Patrick Swayze died. Of them all, this was the most expected. But it was still a shock and it brought me out in goosebumps when I heard it. Now, Dirty Dancing which is arguably his most famous film, was a rite-of-passage for so many women my age. They obsessed over it. Not me. I hated it when it came out and wrote a scathing review of it for the school magazine (I was a goth at the time, what would you expect really). I did however love Point Break. So for me he was always Bodhi rather than Jonny. But no matter. I've since watched Dirty Dancing and come to appreciate the sheer grace of the man. I also recently watched the Outsiders for the first time since I was about 15. I'd forgotten how heartbreaking the film was in the first instance (how I am not sure, I must have just blocked it all out), and it was all the more poignant since Swayze was so utterly young and handsome in it, and it really isn't that old a film. I felt really sad about it.

I've been thinking about all of this a lot, but I am not really sure how to end.


Stay golden.

You move much like a go-go dancer. Scorpio or maybe Cancer.

I was having a very interesting conversation last night about horoscopes. It was with someone who, it is fair to say, is an arch sceptic. Well, that's probably not fair at all - she'd probably put it in much stronger terms.

I'm quite fascinated by the whole thing, but healthily so. I think I manifest most of the traits of my starsign, and I am quite happy to. I read my horoscopes and marvel when they seem accurate, ignore them when they don't, get vaguely excited if something good is going to happen... You get the picture.

But she came up with an interesting point. One sign often has people doing a sharp intake of breath, and that is Scorpio. Rightly or wrongly, they have a bit of a reputation. There must be positive qualities attributed to the sign, but I had to confess that I didn't know what they were supposed to be. So her question was: are Scorpios happy to be Scorpios?

I don't know the answer. The two friends I have who are Scorpios (and who I hasten to add are very lovely people) I can't imagine being in the least bit interested, and that's putting it politely.

But there must be some Scorpios out there who are loud and proud about it.

Surely?

I love you for what I am not I do not want what I have got

I'm back!

This is an interesting story. Well, when I say interesting, I suppose what I really mean is bemusing. I'm not really sure that I see the point of it. I'm probably showing my age now, but I remember watching the Chart Show (in the proper olden days when it was on Channel 4 on a Friday) and getting all excited when the featured chart was the Indie Chart. I wanted the Sisters, or the Mission, or Gaye Bykers on Acid, but I also knew that I ran the risk of seeing Erasure or Kylie, since they were on an indie label. That's always been the problem - you've got indie the genre up against indie the designation. And that that was part of the thrill - you didn't know what you were going to get. Although if Depeche Mode had a single out, you could guarantee they would be at the top.

In spite of vowing when I was a teenager that I would always be interested in the charts, I'm not really anymore. I'm still as obsessed by music as ever as I was, but I don't pay much if any attention to the charts. Not in some too cool for school way, but just because there is a whole load of rubbish in there nowadays. Now I really am showing my age. But the difference seems to be that you have to sell about 3 records (or should I say units) these days to get in to the Top 40, and about 12 to get a number one. I remember the days when going straight in at number 1 was a phenomenal achievement. Now, it seems that if you don't, you're a flop.

Anyway, I digress. I still don't see the point of having 2 indie charts. One for artists who have not yet reached the "normal" top 20, and one for those that have (but also those who haven't??), presumably, but aren't signed to one of the 4 big labels. Does it really matter whether a band have reached the top 20 or not? And will getting to feature in their own special chart particularly help them make the big time? Perhaps it will. Maybe someone who wasn't interested in Bon Iver (to use one of the BBC's examples) will be, because of their position in the Independent Breakers chart.

But aren't indie bands in it for the music and not interested in chart positions?

Aren't they?

Television dreams of tomorrow

I have become somewhat fascinated by American Idol, much to my chagrin. I blame it on the fact the ITV2 run repeats of it all the time over the weekend, so you catch it at some point and then it sucks you in. In general I disapprove of these type of shows wholeheartedly - people getting record deals on the back of a public vote on TV, when some musicians who are supremely talented have to struggle for years. And the kind of music that I like isn't represented in any case. It's populist nonsense - the Man write large.

But still, all this aside, I have become absolutely fascinated by it. I have to decide on a Thursday whether or not to check to see who has been voted off (the main show airs in the US on a Tuesday and then the results show is on the Wednesday, but the corresponding shows don't air in the UK until Wednesday and Thursday respectively). Usually, I can't resist the urge.

I love watching it. Listening to the judges rambling on about "artistry" or "pitchiness" or saying "you know I love you, but I didn't love that song choice for you", or counting how many times Randy Jackson says "yo" or "check it out" (I read somewhere that the more times he says it before beginning his critique, the more he liked the performance, and that if you only get a "Yo baby", you should be very afraid". Interestingly, Simon Cowell's comments are still the ones that seem to mean the most to people - it doesn't seem to matter if the other 3 love you; if Simon ain't so keen, the face falls a bit.

They have free voting too, within the US, and as a result, a phenomenal number of votes are cast; I think last week something like 65 million people voted. I wonder if they charged like they do in this country whether quite so many people would vote. I am guessing not... It's quite mind-boggling to think of that many votes being cast - I think that is the point. It's votes cast, rather than people voting. I'll wager that a lot of people might be voting more than once.

The contestants all seem to be so much better than any of the contestants on British equivalents. Mind you, some of them have been appearing on stage and some of them have even released records, albeit ones that didn't sell that many (however few records they sold, it would still be more than my record).

Last week, the last remaining girl in the competition was eliminated. She was really good - she was only just 17, but she could rock that stage. It was a shame she had to go, but she went with a bang. Tonight it is down to the Top Three, and they are pretty different types of performer. There is Kris, who is terribly cute and plays guitar and has a rather sweet voice; there is Danny, who is kind of a white soul boy (Simon Cowell described him as sounding like Michael McDonald one week, which seemed pretty spot on), and who has been much ridiculed during the last week for a rather unfortunate attempt at hitting the high note at the end of Dream On, which came off more as a rather blood-curdling scream; and there is Adam, who is a little bit goth, a little bit emo, wears guyliner and nail varnish, has a very good voice and has grabbed most of the attention. Smart money would be on Danny and Adam making the final, but you just never know.

I can't really believe that I am so interested.

One thing that is possibly even more fascinating than the competition itself is dipping into some of the forums and discussion boards. They are crazy places. You get these Appreciation Threads where the users discuss the ins and outs of their favourites ad infinitum and in minute detail. And alongside that flies the vitriol. It can be quite scary how high the feelings run. One person's "Most Amazing Performance Ever" is the next person's "It Was So Horrible I Had To Mute The Sound". And then you get arguments as to whether one contestant is smug or not. Reading them, you realise that is all depends on your attitude to the person. If you don't really rate them or like them, then a smile can be smug; if you like the person, the exact same smile becomes too cute for words. Or one person's amazingly original interpretation is another's car crash moment.

It is endlessly fascinating.

Oh yeah, and Ryan Seacrest is quite cute.

What's on your conscience nothing happens in my town

Whilst out dog-walking with a friend one Saturday evening recently, our meandering took us alongside a river, and as we were walking along the path, we walked under a bridge, the flyover kind. There was inevitably some graffiti and I made some disparaging comments about how I didn't really get graffiti and how I couldn't see it as urban art, even if some people do, etc, etc. However, I soon changed my mind, as I came upon some more, which you can see above and to the left. Clearly I am a sucker for something cute, which this obviously is, but there was also a bit more to it than that. It was accompanied by a message about how migration is not a crime, and given Paddington's epic journey from Darkest Peru to West London, it seemed rather apt.

Begin the day With a friendly voice A companion, unobtrusive Plays that song thats so elusive

So, finally I went to see I Love You, Man, and finally I post my review...

Well, I loved it. It made me cry with laughter in places (and it was Paul Rudd who made me do this, just so you know). It was simply a funny film, which is all you can really ask for from a comedy.The premise is that Peter (Paul Rudd) is getting married and observes that while he hangs around with his fiancee and her friends, he doesn't really have any male friends of his own, in the same way. A series of man-dates ensue and enter Sydney (Mr Segel) - and a grabbing of my friend's leg into the bargain. I was thinking that it wouldn't necessarily have anything to say about the human condition, but actually, I think it does have something quite interesting to say about the nature of friendship, particularly the difference between male and female friendships.

It was hilarious to see Peter's attempts at bro-speak, and it highlighted that there is a fine line between innovative, funny dialogue and ridiculous nonsense. The whole film is actually really interesting, from a linguistic point of view - a comment that was also made on Front Row, so this isn't just me trying to intellectualise my Segel-love.

One bit that was slightly annoying was that Sydney refused to scoop his dog's poop. Now, leave aside the fact that in real life this is something I find morally reprehensible. It didn't really seem to fit in with the character. I think it was there purely as a device so that a scene where he teaches Peter to scream could happen. I'll forgive them this, because that scene is very funny.

A friend of mine saw the film a good few weeks before me, and said that he liked it well-enough but that it wasn't as funny as Forgetting Sarah Marshall.... Well, whisper it, I thought it was funnier, in a laugh-out-loud way than Forgetting Sarah Marshall, thereby proving that I don't need to see the Seagull Junk, as this same friend put it, to enjoy one of his films.

The saints are coming, the saints are coming

I am long overdue my review of I Love You, Man, but today other things had to take precedence. I speak, of course, of the day's top sporting news of St Johnstone being promoted to the Scottish Premier Division (although it is hardly an in-depth analysis), after far too many years away. I got a perplexing text from my mum, about 3 minutes before the final whistle sounded, saying "St Johnstone have won the Cup. Wow". The confusion arose because my dad had advised her that he might be late home for dinner "if we win, they'll present us with the cup". Of course, he as referring to the cup presented to us as First Division Champions. However, I was more worried by the fact that the game hadn't ended. We may have been 3-1 up, and Partick may have been 1-0 down, but as a Saints fan, you never take anything for granted, exemplified by the catastrophe of 2 years ago, when we missed out on promotion due to a Gretna goal in injury time.

Some more silverware in the trophy cabinet and the chance to play in the top-flight next season. Of course, this will undoubtedly led to a much more stressful season than normal (and Saints do a very good line in making their fans sweat), but it'll be worth it. And not matter how hard it can be, I wouldn't swap them for anything.

After a chat with my dad on the telephone (involving singing down the line from both of us and him telling me that the strains of "We hate Dundee, we hate Dundee" were reverberating around the stadium with about 20 minutes to go), he decided that he was going to crack open the wine that evening, to toast the victory. As this sounded like a splendid idea, I decided to do the same. I went to the supermarket, picked one of those small individual-portion (does wine come in portions?) bottles, and proceeded to the self-service scanner.

Inevitably there was some problem, and the supervisor had to approve it. He said to me "Can I see your ID" and then looked at me and began apologising profusely, and told me to carry on. Now, I know that I might not look under 21, but did he really have to sound quite so mortified.

Break me you covetous creature

I'm getting quite obsessed with tote bags, and I really want to add this one to my collection.

If it was in purple, it would be even better.

All i'm saying pretty baby, la la love you, don't mean maybe

Countdown is progressing. Release date in the UK is tomorrow, and I heard a pretty positive review of it on Front Row of all places (apparently the language is really great). And in spite of missing Jason on the red carpet because I was too engrossed in my gym workout, I'm all set.

Bring on the bromance.

Think of a number, divide it by two, something is nothing, nothing is nothing

I have been a most remiss blogger of late. But time to rectify that.

I've been watching a lot of TV just lately. In the hiatus that I have until the fourth season of How I Met Your Mother gets released on DVD, I've managed to discover some gems to keep me going. Top of the list is The Wire. I'd heard a lot about this, so decided finally to put Love Film to good use and check out the first season. It's so good, and lives up to the hype. It's NYPD Blue for a new generation. It seems to take what that established and take it up a notch. The language is wonderful too. It's full of street slang and cop slang (I have to confess that I have watched a few of the first episodes with the subtitles on!), and it has the largest amount of swearing that I have ever heard on a TV series. The characters are engaging, and not everything gets wrapped up neatly and happily. The hero (or should that be anti-hero) is a screw-up, yet he has you rooting for him and willing him not to do what he inevitably does. But at heart, he's good police. And it possibly has one of the most chillingly polite villains of all time, at least so far. I watched Season 1 at a reasonably leisured pace (in that I could only have one disc at home at a time), and then a very dear friend who has the DVD boxset (apparently, the sales of this in UK are huge, probably because until very recently it has only ever been on satellite here) loaned me Season 2, which she had just finished watching. Well, I burned through them and had watched them within about 4 days (no wonder I have no time to blog). So now I have to wait until she finishes with Season 3, or else I watch it every night on BBC2, whichever comes first. Sigh. It's also amazing that two of the main characters, who sound as American as apple pie, are actually English. And it has also reminded me of how I just don't get Tom Waits. He wrote the feem toon and sings the feem toon for Season 2, The Blind Boys of Alabama doing Season 2. While I would sing along quite happily, or at least leave it running while I made a cup of tea, with Season 2 it's a scramble to get to the remote so that I can fast forward through the opening credits. He makes my ears bleed. Can someone please explain what is so great about him?

Carrying on in the vein of old Etonians doing on-the-money US accents, I've also started watching Life, with Damian Lewis as a cop who was framed for murder and has now been exonerated and is back on the force. I was slightly unsure watching the pilot, as I couldn't quite work out whether it was supposed to be completely tongue-in-cheek or not. But by the second episode, I was hooked and I can't wait for the second installment to plop on the mat (maybe tomorrow?). I like the little documentary aspects and Damian is as superb as ever. I have high hopes.

Lastly, I am working my way through My So-Called Life at a brisk pace. Loaned to me by my oft-mentioned friend, I missed this first time around, although I had often heard it mentioned. It's great. While it must have been amazing to have watched this when you were the actual ages of the main characters, I can still (sadly?) draw plenty of parallels between their lives and mine, in spite of the fact that I am far nearer the parents ages than the kids. The incidental music is wonderful (lots of Lemonheads and Juliana Hatfield, who I believe shows up in person in the Christmas episode) and it was really cool when the main character gets asked who are favourite bands are and she lists a Who's Who of 1995. Very much of its time, but not dated in any way. And of course, any programme which has someone hold up a copy of Rolling Stone, with one of my favourite pictures of Kurt on it, and says "Oh, I still can't look at him" gets my vote. Plus Ricky just has to be one of the sweetest characters ever. I think I probably like Freaks and Geeks more (and no, before anyone says it, not because of that), probably because of the humour. But this is really great, and finally I properly understand what Rachel in Friends means when she says Clare Danes would play her in the movie of her life.

Know what? I love TV.

Haggerties and swamies Pacific palisades

Things that annoy me - an occasional series

No 2.

Crowdsurfers. It's really annoying when you are standing in an audience at a gig and some idiot thinks it is a good idea to crowdsurf and then you are expected to guide them as they roam over your heads.

Why? What makes you so special? Just watch the gig like the rest of us.*

(*there is the tiniest chance that I could make a special dispensation if Josh Homme decided to do it, but then I couldn't promise that I could keep my hands to myself).

Roll out the barrel, we'll have a barrel of fun

Can anyone guess what I will be buying tomorrow?

Yes I know the city like a lover Good or bad it's hard to love another

I was watching Taggart last night. I love Taggart. It makes me nostalgic for home and the days when I lived in Glasgow. I love trying to spot bars that I know (even now, when Glasgow has changed a lot) or even better, spotting when they are inside a particular location, and then they come outside to the wrong exterior. It's the kind of thing that you notice only if you've lived in a place (the same thing happened in Trainspotting the film. Near the beginning when Ewan McGregor is tearing down Princes Street and then suddenly he nearly gets run over by a car. Well, firstly Princes Street is long, and it is unlikely in the extreme that he could keep running at that pace until the point at which he meets the car. Secondly, the street that the car apparently comes down is a dead end and the car could not have garnered that much speed either).

But I digress. Back to Taggart. Last night's episode was as enjoyable as ever, but was also remarkable for another reason. They said fuck - three times. Now, I am pretty unshockable when it comes to the use of the F-word. I'm no shrinking violet, and I have even been heard to cuss myself on occasion (unless my parents are reading this, in which case, of course I haven't). Yet, when DI Robbie Ross (swoon) said it the first time, I did a double take and thought "did I hear that right?". When he said it the second time, I realised that I had heard right.

So, what was the big deal about it? Well, the thing is, they never say it normally. Yes, the script will be peppered with a few bastards and a couple of shits. But nothing stronger. In this episode, it's sporadic use was in tense scenes, where the character was being pushed to his limits and struggling to keep control. And it was all the better for it. In these situations, a person doesn't say "get lost" or "I shall jolly well come after you". I really hope they made a conscious decision to have him swear. It reminded me of when I saw the film Casino and Robert De Niro's character called the Sharon Stone character a..., well, this is pretty much the one word that I won't use, but suffice to say it starts with c and rhymes with runt. I visibly blanched when he said it. The film had countless of other swear words, but this stood out and, my feelings about the word aside, made an impact.

Sometimes tho' the converse is true. I've started watching the Wire (well, having now finished Season 3 of HIMYM, I have to wait patiently for the current season to come out on DVD, and I need something to take its place). It's wonderful, but the language is something else. As I said before, I am largely unshockable (c-words aside), but the violence of the language in this I find quite shocking. Not off putting, just shocking. I think it is down to the sheer volume of it. But strangely, it hasn't made be desensitized to it, so it must be down to the subject matter. There is probably just as much swearing in some of the comedy films I watch, but whereas in those it is funny, in the Wire it is brutal and relentless, certainly for a TV series.

So even now, a well-placed swear word can make a powerful statement.

Words are working hard for you

I make my living from words, so it stands to reason that I have to remain pretty neutral about them. Yes, I do have my favourites, but I try to take each word or phrase on their merits. Whether I think a word is stupid or not doesn't really matter.

So, I found the story that certain words have been banned by the LGA hilarious. Some of these words are fantastic, especially when you try to analyse what they mean and come to the conclusion that the answer is nothing.


The full list is here. At first glance, and used in isolation, some of them seem fairly innocuous. Is there really anything wrong with the using the words agencies, collaboration or enhance? But then, when you consider the whole idea of predictors of beaconicity, you start to understand their thinking (try as hard as I can, I have still not managed to work out what on earth a predictor of beaconicity is or does). And I am very pleased that my own personal favourite word is on their list - functionality. Has there ever been a more ridiculous word? I'm afraid with the best will in the world, and try as hard as I might, whenever I hear this word being used, I see blackboards and long nails.

I am starting to sound like my dad who is often heard to lament "you know, someone gets paid to sit and make up these words". He'd be proud.

Where does it stop, where do you dare me to draw the line

Things that annoy me - a new occasional series

No 1.
Bands releasing remixes of their albums or re-releasing albums with one extra "new" track. I know you don't have to buy it, but bands don't do this for the sake of it. Otherwise they would be free.

When I finally get around to writing my book of music rules, this will be in there.

So put another dime in the jukebox, baby

God bless the jukebox. I've been fascinated by them since I was a child. And during a summer job working behind a bar, the jukebox kept me sane (well, just about). Standing there choosing the songs is a thrilling experience. I have a very methodical approach to them. I stand there eagerly scrolling through the various pages (are they pages? Well, I think so) to see what is on before making my choices. And I choose all of the songs I want to hear before putting any money in. I've made the elementary mistake before of choosing the first one and then spending the whole of the song stood there choosing the next 4. What a waste! And then there is that awful sinking feeling of whether or not you have entered the numbers correctly...

Perhaps the best thing about them is the fact that you can put on a few guilty pleasure songs - those pop songs that you publicly might disdain, but deep down you love. Or something that you haven't heard for ages. Or, and this might depend upon how much alcohol has been consumed, one that will get you and your friends singing.

However, of late, I've come to the conclusion that jukeboxes and me are not the best of friends. One of my favourite pubs has a fantastic jukebox. It's a bit of a RAWK pub, and the jukebox is pitched accordingly, with more than its fair share of goth too. My last 2 attempts at choosing songs have resulted it them playing 4 out of 5 before I had to leave (and leaving out No-One Knows, in spite of it being the first song I had chosen) and then choosing not to play any of them, but instead play wall to wall Pantera (OK, it was a Saturday night and the place was heaving, but still).

So, fast forward to last Monday. I am in a quiet pub in a smallish village. It's not busy and the barstaff switched on the jukebox just for us. So no-one had got in there before me. I know this. I stand there, going through all the steps as described above. I choose the 5 songs and carefully input the numbers and sit down expectantly. It plays my first choice for sure. And my second. And then that's it. No more. But horror or all horrors, it plays You're Beautiful by James Blunt. "Did you put this on?" asks my friend, jokingly (I assume). Now, I can live with not hearing the rest of my choices. But now everyone in that pub thinks I put on You're Beautiful.

I fear I will never be able to show my face there again.

I'm stuck on your heart, I hang on every word you say

I watched the Brit Awards last night. I'm not really sure why. Although I like watching award shows, I get annoyed with the Brits usually. The awards either go to people I dislike or else it smacks of tokenism.

And bearing this in mind, it didn't disappoint. I was able to predict all of the winners, bar two. Should it really be this obvious?

The Brits always seem to be a step behind. It's like they suddenly realise "ooh, Elbow are a good worthy band, we'd best demonstrate that we realise this and give them best band". Now, this is perhaps an unfair example. I like Elbow (and have already said how I came to them fairly recently, so I am not pulling a "oh, I was there at the beginning") and was very pleased that they won. I think they deserve. But I am always deeply suspicious when the mainstream suddenly embrace something. It's the same as when they think "oh, someone's a bit kooky, let's honour them to show how hip we are".

And when they are not suddenly deciding to honour someone who had previously not crossed their radar, they pick on an artist that they have decided is worthy and pile multiple awards on them. They did it with Blur, they did it, inexplicably, with the Darkness (and how embarrassed must they be about that now), and they did it last night with Duffy. I neither like nor dislike Duffy - I find her voice a bit grating, but she seems nice and talented enough. And again, I'm not really saying that she shouldn't have won. But it all just seemed so obvious. Perhaps that is the way it should be tho'. The prize is for the best example of the category, not for the least obvious. And maybe it's just that I don't really like most of the music that is nominated. Still, at least they manage to be sensible about the awards they have to give, unlike the Grammys who seem to have a category for every imaginable genre and sub genre. I know that it can seem like an impossible task to compare wildly disparate genres, but I would hate to see us go down the "best vocal performance of a rock song with a middle eight, written on a Friday by a man named Keith, and performed by a female with blonde hair and blue eyes" route.

But I think what annoys me most of all is the ceremony, and here is where they could learn from the Grammys. Don't have the public there. Last night's ceremony was hosted by James Corden and Matthew Horne (and Kylie Minouge), and by and large they did a good job I thought. But lots of the jokes that they made were just lost and drowned out by the shrieking and screaming of the public who were at the ceremony and consequently ended up falling flat, with awkward silences. Get rid of them I say. What's wrong with just having an awards ceremony with the people who have been nominated there, plus others in the same field? It would also cut out some of the embarrassing attempts by some of the people presenting awards to "talk to the people".

And don't get me started about how out of tune Girls Aloud were. Annoyingly, that stupid song was stuck in my head all day.

Oh I did love for you and what did you do for me

OK, so my final count was 84. Not exactly a huge total. Less than ten per cent of the total books. So, are there any conclusions for me to draw?

Well, of course, the whole thing is pretty arbitrary and you could probably ask another group of people to make up a list of 1000 Novels You Should Read and you would get 1000 totally different books (well, maybe not 1000, but there would still be a big difference). But I've realised a few things.

I haven't read a lot of the books that English graduates are supposed to have. I've read no Austen at all, for example. And only one Dickens.

I have no problem at all starting a book but not finishing it. This I think is a good thing or at least not necessarily a bad thing.

I really ought to read some William Faulkner.

I don't read a book straightaway. Some of the books that are still on my shelves have been there for years. I have to be in the mood to read a book.

I am stagnating to a certain extent in my reading habits.

So, an interesting exercise. And it has energised me to read some of the books that have been on my shelves. Plus, I am going to work on my list of books that I think people ought to read. Not 1000. Perhaps I'll be a little less ambitious and work on 50.

And I came a long way before I came across the sea

OK, it's time for the last category in the Guardian 1000 Novels Everyone Should Must Read, as I chase the 100 books (quite why I am not sure. It would only be a tenth of the books on the actual list, which is pretty shoddy anyway).

So, State of the Nation it is...

Read
Albert Camus - The Plague
Thomas Hardy - The Mayor of Casterbridge
Alan Paton - Cry, The Beloved Country
Zadie Smith - White Teeth
Theodore Fontane - Effi Briest
Irvine Welsh - Trainspotting

Books I Am Supposed To Have Read
George Eliot - Middlemarch
Johnathan Frantzen - The Corrections
Barry Hines - A Kestrel For A Knave


Still on Shelves
Alasdair Gray - Lanark

Of these books, I'm picking The Plague and Trainspotting for my list. And I now have a grand total of 84. It doesn't really seem so grand does it, for someone with a degree in Language and Literature.

Conclusions to follow in due course

Why make the past your sacred cow?

It seems every single band from days of yore are reforming - some more successfully than others. None of them have been "my bands", so I've been able to keep my opinion that it is a bad idea pretty much intact (and I'm probably lucky because any of the bands that I loved who have split are really unlikely to ever get back together - I can't see George Michael reforming Wham! and it would really take something special for Nirvana to get back together again).

And it is a bad idea I think. Let sleeping dogs lie and all those other cliches. What makes a band so special has a lot to do with the moment - who you were at the time, who you were with, and what you were doing. Now fine if they carry on making records with you - they are evolving, you are evolving with them. But once they've actually split, I think that should be it. It's sad, yes, but there you have it.

Morrissey agrees with me, as does Bernard Butler thank goodness. Now, I was never a particularly big Smiths fan - I was maybe just a bit too young to get into them when they first started. But it would really shatter their myth if they got back together. I loved Suede, and it is one of my musical regrets that I never got to see them play with Bernard Butler, but I wouldn't want to see them reform. It just wouldn't seem right seeing Brett singing "She's a lovely little number" now. I do disagree about nostalgia though, at least to a certain extent. It doesn't have to be a bad thing, so long as it is not the be all and end all. And if you don't indulge in it a little, then are going to miss out. I was born after the Beatles split, so unless I dabbled in a little bit of nostalgia, then I don't get to experience it. And there is something extremely cute about seeing a kid in the "Flower Sniffing, Kitty Petting..." Nirvana t-shirt, who wouldn't even have been born when Nevermind came out. OK, maybe not quite what Bernard Butler had in mind (I'm sure that it isn't), but it demonstrates that it can be a good thing.

Even bands that I never got to see, who I would have loved to. Adam and the Ants, The Teardrop Explodes, Abba... I just don't have that much interest (which is just as well, since it is pretty unlikely that any of these bands will be reforming). Which is why the whole 80s revival tour doesn't appeal. Some of the bands I thought were great at the time, but since I didn't go and see them then, why would I want to now? There are a couple of apparent exceptions. I saw the Human League live about 3 years ago, and I have been to see Duran Duran quite a few times during the last few years. However, and herein lies the point, neither of these bands have split up, or stopped recording. They may not have the original line-ups, but they have continued to release material. And that's the crucial difference for me.

There's quite a baying for the Stone Roses to reform, and I really hope they never do. I saw them live in 1990, and while I don't quite agree they were the deities that some people seem to think, it was quite an experience - they were at the height of their powers. And that's how they should be remembered.

So put them on the stereo, remember where you were when you first heard them, even dance a little. In fact, dance a lot. But don't wish they'd reform.

Oh I said that’s a clichéd phrase and anyway I like it when the rain goes

Right, Sci Fi and Fantasy next, probably my least favourite genre of all time. Here goes nothing.


Read
Iain Banks - The Wasp Factory
Anthony Burgess - A Clockwork Orange
William Golding - Lord of the Flies
James Hogg - Private Memoirs and Confessions of a Justified Sinner
JK Rowling - Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone
George Orwell - Nineteen Eighty Four

Still on Shelves
Michel Houellebecq - Atomised
Mary Shelley - Frankenstein
Bram Stoker - Dracula
Robert Louis Stevenson - The Strange Case of Doctor Jekyll and Mr Hyde

Book I Started But Put Down Pretty Quickly
Douglas Adams - The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy

Special Mentions
Daniel Keyes - Flowers for Algernon
Francois Rabelais - Gargantua and Pantagruel
CS Lewis - The Chronicles of Narnia


Well, it could have been worse. It is obvious from the list I think that I veer towards the non-spaceships/non-hobbits/non-magical quest side of the genre (Harry Potter aside, but to me the series is classic boarding school romp, with a bit of magic thrown in, and I mean that as a compliment). The fact that I picked up the Hitchhikers Guide To The Galaxy, and got bored with it as soon as the world ended probably sums up my feelings about this genre quite succinctly. As far as the special mentions go, I read the short story version of Flowers For Algernon; I have read Gargantua, but not Pantagruel, and the only one of the Chronicles of Narnia that I managed to finish was The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe, which I read about 8 times while on holiday in Portugal (the only other book I had taken with me was, rather inexplicably, The Blue Peter Book of Limericks). However, I think putting a whole series of books on the list is cheating. Which leads me to His Dark Materials, which is on the Guardian's list. I only got three-quarters of the way through Northern Lights, which meant I didn't even think it really warranted a special mention, except to say that I am the only person I know who doesn't like it.

Any of these books make my own list? Well, possibly Private Memoirs and Confessions of A Justified Sinner, as it really is a wonderful book, and this list reminded me of its very existence.

So the running total is 78, with only one category to go.

The howl of the wolf Snow in his eyes

I'm pretty bah humbug about snow, really. In spite of my earlier post with the picture of the wedding-cake table, I can't really be bothered with snow. Yes, it's pretty, yes it can be romantic if you are in the video for Last Christmas, but once you get past the age of 10, it just becomes a huge pain, because you need to go places and get things done. I used to hate having to run the gauntlet of primary school kids when I was a teenager, because they'd just pelt you with snowballs and being female I can't throw them back, because I throw like a girl (I am all for feminism, but sometimes you just have to face facts). And now that I'm all grown up, I hate having to go anywhere in the snow.

And I've even been all sneering at the people over this mythical age of 10 who have been building snowmen in their lunch hour. Until I saw the picture you see to your right. That is awesome. That takes commitment. I salute you, snow polar bear makers (I think that's what it is).

Everyone's a winner, baby, that's no lie

I've just finished watching the BAFTAS on TV. I started off with the Red Carpet show (although was kind of disgusted with myself for wanting to watch it). Claudia Winkleman was hosting it, and I love her. I think she is very smart, very funny and supremely irreverent. But I fear she was perhaps a little bit too irreverent. While I think it was a genius idea to get schoolkids to write in with questions to act, I am not sure some of the celebs really got it. And then she said to Penelope Cruz that she wanted to smell her hair....

And you know, I hate when they tell you who they are wearing. It really does wind me up. I would love one of them to say "well, I'm wearing vintage H&M". Or "this is Per Una".

And if I hear one more person saying "oh I'm just really honoured to be here"...

What struck me about the ceremony was that I really have hardly seen any of the films at all (if you ask me FSM was robbed, although they did at least show a clip). Except for the Reader. I think that's it. Still didn't stop me enjoying the whole ceremony, and having opinions. I've been saying to friends of mine since the The Dark Knight was released that Heath Ledger was a shoo-in for most of the awards. Now, I have to say that I haven't seen the film yet, and I also have to say that most of my friends who have seen it tell me that he is very good. I don't doubt it for one minute. And I am not saying that he wouldn't have been nominated in any case. But would be have won? I'm not so sure... We'll see.

The ceremony made for good viewing. I particularly enjoyed Jason Isaacs saying "Good to see you back where you belong" to Johnathan Ross, whose own comment about Mickey Rourke's swearing was priceless (the Oscar chiefs must be terrified at the prospect of him making a winner's speech) . And Mick Jagger also really made me laugh with this whole "Rock-Star-Actor Exchange Programme" joke, especially when he made the crack about Brad Pitt and family going on stage at the Von Trapp Family. Just as he way saying it, the picture cut to him and Angelina and he leaned towards her laughing and said something. Sadly my lip-reading skills are pretty much non-existent. but I would love it if he has said something like "You know honey. We could...."

Well you said I tend to spend my life chasing rainbows

So the next chapter in the Guardian Books saga is love.

Read
Joaquim Maria Achado de Assis - Don Casmurro
Charlotte Bronte - Villette
Emily Bronte - Wuthering Heights
George Eliot - The Mill on the Floss
F Scott Fitzgerald - The Great Gatsby
Ford Maddox Ford - The Good Soldier
Lewis Grassic Gibbon - Sunset Song
Thomas Hardy - Far From The Madding Crowd
Thomas Hardy - Tess of he D'Urbervilles
Nathaniel Hawthorne - THe Scarlet Letter
Pierre-Ambrose-Francois Chodorlos de Laclos - Les Liaisons Dangereuses
Gabriel Garcia Marquez - Love In The Time of Cholera
Ian McEwan - Atonement
Vladimir Nabokov - Lolita
Bernard Schlink - The Reader
Anne Tyler - The Accidental Tourist

Still On Shelves
Gustav Flaubert - Madame Bovary
Paul Gallico - The Snow Goose
Milan Kundera - The Unbearable Lightness of Being

Surprisingly, well at least to me, there are none on this list that I started but didn't finish, or was supposed to read but couldn't be bothered. There are quite a few on the list that I probably should have read. It seems strange to me that I haven't read any Austen, for example....

I think for my own list of must-read books, I'd choose The Great Gatsby and that's it.

In any case, I make my running total 72, and there are 2 categories left. I don't think I am going to make it to the 100....

Who wants love Without the looks

So, continuing my trek through the Guardian's list, next category is Family and Self. If it means what I think it means, I could score highly-ish, although I doubt anything will come close to my crime figure. But before I start, I forgot to pick out those from my crime list that I would add to my own list of essential books would be Brighton Rock, The Secret History, The Murder of Roger Ackroyd and LA Confidential. Much as I love Sara Paretsky, I don't think either of those would be one that I would choose.

Anyway, on to Family and Self.

Read
Louisa May Alcott - Little Women
Kate Atkinson - Behind the Scenes at the Museum
Iain Banks - The Crow Road
Lynne Reid Banks - The L-Shaped Room
Charles Dickens - Great Expectations
Jeffrey Eugenides - Middlesex
Graham Greene - The Power and the Glory
John Irving - A Prayer For Owen Meany
Bernard Malamud - The Assistant
Sue Townsend - The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole Aged 13 and 3/4
Alan Warner - Morven Callar
Oscar Wilde - The Picture of Dorian Gray
Albert Camus - The Outsider
Sylvia Plath - The Bell Jar
JD Salinger - The Catcher In The Rye



Still On Shelves
William Faulkner - As I Lay Dying
William Faulkner - The Sound and the Fury
Laurie Lee - Cider With Rosie

Books I Am Supposed To Have Read
Arundhati Roy - The God of Small Things

So, that is 15 read, bringing my total to 56. This particular category actually includes my favourite book of all time, The Outsider, so that goes on my on essential list. Others? Well, probably Middlesex, the Power and the Glory and The Crow Road.

I wonder if I am going to make 100...

He looks so dreamy, I'm in love from afar When I'm picking up a fallen star

Number six of an occasional series.

At the beginning of the 1990s, I discovered an album called Bellybutton by a band called Jellyfish, and a love affair was born. Most of the bands they were influenced by I didn't like particularly (although, whisper it, I've come to appreciate them since), but there was something about them which just enthralled me. Was it the fact that they had a stand up drummer who also sang (that's like doing 3 things at once), or was it their luscious harmonies? Was it their fabulously clever lyrics or their love of bright colours? Who knows, but love them I did, and still do (in fact, their 4 CD box set of rarities called Fan Club was the first thing I was ever brave enough to buy online, all the way from the USA, no less).

There are so many of their songs that I could choose, and the chances of another appearing in this series is pretty high. But, I'll kick off with Joining A Fan Club, which is on their second album Spilt Milk. It's unashamed power rock/pop, about the perils of falling in love with pop stars. And it's just fabulous. I think the reason I love it is perhaps because I can relate to the lyrics, particularly the one that is the title of the post...

If you've never checked them out, I urge you to. Sadly missed.

Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes

We got snow today! Quite a lot of it. In fact, London seemed to grind to a halt. My friend took a picture of her garden furniture. Her table looked like a wedding cake.

However, it is also Groundhog Day today, and this was very relevant. My friend Phil and I sat down to do a DVD interactive quiz (cos that's how we roll on a Monday night). There are 10 possible categories of rounds (including subjects such as Pop Music, Film, The Arts, Science, Geography) and you get any 5 of those for your quiz. What did we get? 5 History rounds, with some of the same questions repeated.

I am beginning to understand how Bill Murray felt.

I've seen it in your eyes And I've read it in books

OK, round three, and this could and should be a biggie. Crime. I read a lot of crime fiction. Tons in fact. Although not all of it would probably be construed as literary. So, maybe I won't do as well as I think.

Anyway, here goes.

Read
John Buchan - The Thirty Nine Steps
Patricia Cornwell - Postmortem
Brett Easton Ellis - American Psycho
Ian Fleming - Casino Royale
Ian Fleming - Goldfinger
Ian Fleming - You Only Live Twice
Graham Greene - Brighton Rock
Stephen King - Misery
Johnathan Lethem - Motherless Brooklyn
Walter Mosely - Devil In A Blue Dress
Sara Paretksy - Toxic Shock
Sara Paretksy - Blacklist
John Steinbeck - Of Mice And Men
Donna Tartt - The Secret History
Jim Thompson - The Getaway
Agatha Christie - And Then There Were None
Agatha Christie - The Mysterious Affair At Styles
Agatha Christie - The Murder of Roger Ackroyd
Agatha Christie - The Secret Adversary
Agatha Christie - The Murder At The Vicarage
Arthur Conan Doyle - The Study In Scarlet
Arthur Conan Doyle - The Hound of the Baskervilles
Michael Dibdin - Ratking
Michael Dibdin - Vendetta
Michael Dibdin - Dirty Tricks
James Ellroy - LA Confidential
James Ellroy - The Big Nowhere

Still On Shelves
Wilkie Collins - The Woman In White
Wilkie Collins - Moonstone
Umberto Eco - The Name of the Rose
Frederick Forsyth - The Day of the Jackal
Dashiell Hammet - The Glass Key
Partricia Highsmith - Strangers on a Train
Graham Greene - The Ministry of Fear
Harper Lee - To Kill A Mockingbird

Books I Started And Got Most Of The Way Through But Just Could Not Get To The End
Peter Hoeg - Miss Smilla's Feeling For Snow

So quite a lot read in crime then. However, there are still some oddities. I am a huge Christie fan, but cannot fathom why they chose The Secret Adversary. And why on earth was The Black Dahlia not on there (I agree with the other two Ellroys, but it seems an odd omission). And to only choose one Jim Thompson is just criminal. There are so many to choose from and the man is a genius. Still, I am glad to see that Sara Paretsky made the list. She is probably the only contemporary writer today in the genre whose new books I genuinely look forward to reading.

27 crime novels in total, taking me up to 41.

I said there’s more to life than a broken heart dear console you

Update on the Guardian's 1000 Books You Should Read. It turns out I calculated wrongly. The pages also have side links, which I thought were just supplementary. But no, apparently they count too.

So firstly a little addenda to my previous post. In addition to those War and Travel that I have already blogged about....


Still On Shelves
On the Road - Jack Kerouac
Lonesome Dove - Larry McMurty
Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance - Robert Pirsig

Not really made a whole lot of difference, but it does with some of the categories.

So, next up is Comedy. I didn't hold out much hope for this one either, but it was a little more fruitful than I was expecting. But not much.

Read
Helen Fielding - Bridget Jones Diary
Henry Fielding - Joseph Andrews
Graham Greene - Our Man In Havana
Graham Greene - Travels With My Aunt
Mark Haddon - Curious Incident of the Dog In The Night
Nick Hornby - High Fidelity
Jerome K Jerome - Three Men In A Boat
Armistead Maupin - Tales Of The City

Of these, the ones I would put my list would be High Fidelity (which is just one the best books on music ever written, by someone who understands why the question "who would you kill come the musical revolution" is endlessly fascinating.

Still on Shelves
Miguel de Cervantes - Don Quixote
Kenneth Grahame - The Wind In The Willows

Books I Am Supposed to Have Read
Will Self - Great Apes

I started this, and got about 3 pages in. It was chosen by someone in my book group whose opinion I respect hugely, but we appear to have differing tastes in literature.... But you know, it makes the world go round.

So after two categories, the running total is: 14

You said you couldn’t find anyone to love you

The Guardian newspaper recently published a feature on 1000 Novels Everyone Must Read and it has proved a quite obsessive discussion point for me and my friends The Family Moo, mainly regarding how many we had read and how aghast we were at the low number (Mummy Moo is currently leading with 170 something, but then as her name suggests, she is old enough to be our mother). And also expressing surprise/disgust at the ones they had chosen to omit.

They've split them into sections and I've worked my way through them systematically. While it was interesting to see which I had read, it was just as fascinating to see which of them I had bought but still had on my shelves (having just not got round to them). And then there was the list of those which I was supposed to have read, either at school or university, or for my Book Group.

The first section is War and Travel. I wasn't expecting much from this and this proved true. It broke down as follows.

Read
Nina Bawden - Carrie's War
William Boyd - An Ice-Cream War
Sebastian Faulks - Birdsong
Khaled Hosseini - The Kite Runner
Robert Louis Stevenson - Kidnapped
Robert Louis Stevenson - Treasure Island

2 of these I read at school, and were I compiling a list of books that I think people should read, I would probably include Birdsong. It was one of those books which once I read I bought for quite a few people as presents. Books like these don;t come along that often.

Still on shelves
Gabriel Garcia Marquez - One Hundred Years of Solitude
Kurt Vonnegut - Slaughterhouse 5
On the Road - Jack Kerouac
Lonesome Dove - Larry McMurty
Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance - Robert Pirsig

Books I am supposed to have read
JG Farrell - The Siege of Krishnapur
Irene Nemirovsky - Suite Francaise
Jonathan Safran Foer - Everything Is Illuminated
Laurence Sterne - A Sentimental Journey


Anyway, not exactly the most auspicious start - 6 books read out of a possible 117. And just as many that I was supposed to have read or still had on my shelves, intending to read.

And there is an oddity in this section. There's a book that I think I have read, but I can't actually remember. The book in question is All Quiet on the Western Front by Erich Maria Remarque. The reason I think I have read it is complicated. As a teenager I was a goth, and was obsessed with the messages (or run out etchings as they are apparently known) scratched into the centre grooves of vinyl releases by the Sisters of Mercy. On the 12inch of Alice, one of these messages was Im Westen Nichts Neues, which is the original German title of the novel All Quiet on the Western Front. It stands to reason that as an earnest goth I would have tried to read it and I vaguely remember borrowing it from the library. But as to whether I read it or not, I have no recollection.

Anyone, first category down. Perhaps I'll do better with some of the other categories. Although given that the next one is Science Fiction and Fantasy, I wouldn't hold your breath.

Do you promise to funk? The whole funk, nothin' but the funk

I haven't blogged in a shockingly long time. 2009 has proved to be a little bit busy, but now I'm back in the room. Some of my time recently has been taken up with chain-watching Season 2 of How I Met Your Mother, which I got fairly recently on DVD. The sensible thing to do would probably have been to limit myself so that it lasted longer, but as anyone who knows me would tell you, that was never going to happen. And in any case, the third season should be with me on Saturday, so my next fix is not far away.

And if I needed any other reason to love it (aside from it being only completely awesome), it's also instructional. While watching the first episode with a friend, we were chuckling
away at a kind of fantasy sequence that Marshall has about Lily and "funk legend George Clinton". Then when the credits rolled and said "George Clinton as himself", she said "Is George Clinton a real person person then?"

You see, without charming and funny US sitcoms, there would be one fewer person in the world unaware of the might of George Clinton.

I thought I'd leave Bootsy Collins for another day.

I want to fly and run till it hurts

The first film of 2009 for my dad was Australia. I was a little worried about this. He's never seen a Baz Luhrmann film before and he doesn't really like films with any kind of magic element.

But it turns out he did quite like it. He thought it was a funny, sweet film, full of old-fashioned cliches, and had a wee bit of a fairytale ending. He has read that it was hoped that it would boost the Australian tourist industry - "if it does that, then I'm a Dutchman" (he was thinking more of the way that it showed Australian men of the time, rather than I presume the scenery, but then I haven't seen it, so I don't know).

His friend didn't like it all. "Just not my kind of film, pal".

Cos there's no compromise when the negative is dry

This is my new favourite blog.

It's hilarious. I can't decide which is my favourite. It might be Sonic Youth. Then again, it might be The Kills. But then again, that Young Knives one...