A few words on the subject
A few words on the subject
The collected
ill-informed drivel
of
Richard Asplin
April 2010
A few words on ass kickage, a capella ugliness, time travel & divorce
4th April 2010
Hello all
A tremendously joyous Eastertide to your kith and brethren. Hope you are well. It is day 4 of the long weekend as I type this. I have a milky coffee to my side, The Greatest Story Ever Told is currently churning its way across ITV (not that I’m watching it. it’s just The Guide told me it’s on. I have no time for it myself. I, like most men of my generation, are only too aware that the ACTUAL greatest story ever told is Ghostbusters).
Easter-based true story to start with.
When Cecil B De Mille was filming the above star-studded biblical epic, he cast the legendary John Wayne as a centurion. (I know, I know, it was one of those movies. Every part is played by a star. It’s like The Cannonball Run in sandals).
Johnny Wayne was given the line: “Truly this man was the son of God,” to be said while gazing off into heaven at the crucifixion. Cue lots of special effects and choirs and trumpets and lumps in the throat and everyone goes home happy with transubstantiated Butterkist (rah rah rah).
So the scene comes, Jackie Wayne is atop a fake mountain in sandals and tunic, Cecil calls “action” and John says, in his best cowboy drawl, “aww, truuuly this maaaan was the son o’gawwwwwwd.”
Cut.
De Mille ushers Wayne to one side and asks him to go again. But this time, to remember the centurion has just realised he has crucified the Messiah. “Can you try it with a bit more awe?”
Wayne nods - good actory type that he is - and they set up the shot once more. Light, choirs, effects…and action!
Wayne pauses, takes a deep breath and bellows “AWWWWWWWW! Truly this man was the son o’Gawwwwd.”
True story.
Anyway. Nuff of that. Couple of things to waste your time with today.
Firstly an out and out lie that’s being spread to the populace that needs to be identified and irradicated.
“Smoking causes ageing of the skin.”
Now, you will find this fabrication printed neatly on the reverse of a packet of smokes. Just to hit home a little more grotesquely, it is accompanied by a small photograph of a lady’s hands. And boy oh boy are they yellowed and wrinkly and witch-like and generally not something you’d want anywhere near your wrists, if you’re a lady.
Or genitals, if you‘re a fellah.
This particular health warning is part of a series (gotta catch ‘em all!) which also includes “smoking causes lung cancer” and “smoking causes you to look quite cool in a retro forties way” and such like.
My issue, really though, is that it isn’t true.
At fucking all.
Smoking does not cause your skin to age. Okay? It doesn’t. There is no quantity of Marlboro, Cut, Camel, Benson, Lucky or Lambert that will cause your skin to travel into the future and become older than you are. You could smoke 100 a day and your skin will still be exactly the same age as you are. To the day. It won’t pop off in the night and clamber into a Delorean, Tardis or any other Wellsian contraption and woosh forward a few years. It won’t. I’ve sat up all night to check. It doesn’t.
Now, smoking might cause - and this is where the confusion lies - your skin to appear older. Get yellower, stainy, wrinkly, craggly and crinkly. Oh yes. I have every confidence it does.
But for all that, your skin will still actually be your age.
If - dear government department of health - you want to warn us about that which will cause skin to age, then you’re going to have to put warnings on time itself. Time causes aging of the skin. Time causes the aging of everything. And it’s fatal.
Get a sticker on that.
Another thing.
I have two tone shoes. Not two “tone shoes”, a left tone shoe and a right tone shoe. I mean “two-tone” shoes. They’re really into The Specials, The Beat and early Madness.
Obviously not. Twit. They are shoes in two tones. Black bits and white bits. Like this:
Rather glorious I trust you’d agree. I sport them with a natty grey English 1950s fitted single-breasted suit, perhaps a jazzy tie and generally feel quite the thing. Or look quite the nonce, either way.
Now I was under the understanding that this style of footwear was known as “correspondence shoes.” I didn’t know why I knew this, but twas a factual QI style nugget in the noggin ne’er the less. Hadn’t stopped to think about why they might have this nickular-name. But in conversation not so many days ago, this tag of “correspondence shoes” came up and I took a mo to ponder it.
I decided, based on nothing but nous, savvy and a fondness for the adventures of Psmith and Bertie, that p’raps it was to do with the era? They have, as I’m certain you’d agree, something of the “roaring Twenties” about them, and I though maybe they had the moniker of “correspondence” footwear because
a. 1920s was an era of exciting jazz style forward-leaps in music and motoring and such. Therefore jazzy spats such as these took their name from the idea of travel and Atlantic crossings and Amelia Erheart and such.
b. Perhaps they were favoured by the travelling journalist abroad. The “foreign correspondent” and were a sign that a big town city-slicker was in the vicinity.
Both creative and plausible explanations.
But ohhhh no. Apparently not.
My conversational partner assured me that the key was in the pronunciation. They aren’t so much “correspondence” shoes, as in letters and envelopes.
No, they are “co-respondent’s” shoes.
As in the shoes belonging to a co-respondent. Such as would be the “other man” in a divorce trial.
Such Spatty McDandydan shoeserings are exactly the type of pencil-moustachioed, sports-car driving, Martini downing cad-about-town items that end up under the bed of married women while husbands are at work in the office.
So naturally, now I like them even more.
Unlike the work of Mark Millar. Which I don’t.
I’ll explain.
I went to the movies this weekend. Buckling under the weight of a great trailer, a round-the-clock ad campaign and a 95% Fresh rate on the excellent movie review website www.rottentomatoes.com
(under normal circs, I would thoroughly recommend the site. It doesn’t give its own opinion of a movie, it cleverly collects as many online and print reviews as it can and collects them in one place. If the review is a good one, it’s described as “fresh.” A bad review is “rotten.” Then helpfully, not only can you read short summaries of reviews from everywhere from Variety to LA Sun Times, from The Observer to The News Of The World, and make up your own mind. Plus the “fresh-o-meter” at the top of the page gives an overall rating based on the fresh/rotten quantity.
So as you’d imagine, Jaws scores “100% FRESH!”. Back To The Future “96% FRESH”, The Shawshank Redemption hits an impressive “88% FRESH.”
The Adventures Of Pluto Nash scores 6%
Anyhow, add it to your faves…
Or at least only do if you’re happy to spend 2hrs being bored to fidgeting irritated tears.
Kick Ass? 87% Fresh? Oh please.
I won’t bang on about it as you can read the reviews and make up your own mind. But I will say this.
Have the courage of your convictions.
If you want to set up a clever-clever take on the tired superhero genre and posit the “what if ordinary people, with no powers, decided to dress up and be superheroes,” then stick with it. It starts out okay - ordinary geek buys a silly costume and wanders the streets looking to fight crime and ends up getting beaten up and stabbed - so far, so real and a fresh look at the wham-bam invincibility we’re used to.
At which point the idea is completely abandoned, the hero is hit by a car and gets “repaired” 6-Million-Dollar-Man style so he is resistant to pain. Yes. Like a superhero. He is joined by Nick Cage who is a Batman styled “ordinary man” with an imressive array of state-of-the-art tech and weapons. Like, uhm…well, like Batman. Nick Cage’s sidekick is an “ordinary” girl. Granted one who can move and twist and fire and fight off 12 heavily armed rapid-firing gangsters in a narrow corridor and come out without a scratch. It’s almost like she has . . . Oh I don’t know, super-powers?
Add to this Kick-Ass getting the foxy girl at school and becoming a hero to all . . . The whole thing collapses into every comic-book cliché you’ve ever seen.
Oh and having a pre-pubescent teen say “cunt” isn’t clever or refreshing characterisation. It’s just a girl saying “cunt.”
Give it miss.
And finally, as the late great Ronald Barker used to say. Tedious punning dope that I am, I love well crafted portmanteau. Clamp two words together to form a snappy, witty clever one and I’m as happy as a sandman on Tattooine. I did however come across possibly the most ill-thought out, ugly, try-hard clumsy bit of word play on a notice board in a pub in Southwold.
Tacked to a door, along with ads for Jumble Sales and local history walks, was a small flyer for a band. Four chaps in moody lighting, you get the idea.
They advertise their services as a quartet of a capella popular hits. Close, four-part harmonies to delight and surprise your party, entertain at your wedding and cause clapping and smiles at the social function of your choice.
All well and good.
I mean, ghastly, but otherwise harmless.
What ISN’T harmless however is the name this band perform under.
You see, they sing. And they are men.
Singing men.
Men that sing.
And (shudder) they perform under the revolting band-name of . . .
Wait, I have to take a deep breath.
Okay. Ready?
The Testoster-tones.
I know, I know. I wish I was making this up. Book them for your party here:
Or, y’know, don’t.
Love to all
Rx
A few words on debates
17th April 2010
Hello gang,
Well here it is. It’s Thursday night, I’ve had a spot of leftovers for supper (2 week old lamb mince, fried bacon and roast potatoes all sort of in a bowl after 20 mins solid wok-ing. I say yum. In about two hours, I may be on the toilet floor saying “ohhhgooargghhiwantmymummm.” We’ll have to see).
Anyhow, cup of tea at my side and as an evening treat, we have Golden Brown (texture like sun), James Cameron (director of True Lies) and Jake the Clegg (diddle-liddle-liddle-lum, with the chance to beg, diddle-iddle-iddle-um). They’re all having a go in a sort of X-factor Prime Minister. (If there was something governmental that rhyme with X then I could say something funny here).
If you missed it - which I expect you did - I’ll give you a live commentary. Here we go…
Okay well they’ve been talking about immigration for 12 minutes. It’s all a bit ITV, frankly. Everyone is very well lit. on a pale blue stage. It looks, frankly, like they’ll be filming a 1983 Bo Monkhouse hosted game-show during the breaks.
They’re all swapping anecdotes now. Golden has visited a baker. James topped this by recently “talking to a black man.” Blimey. Jake is worried that immigration caps will stop Manchester United from getting a new player. Nice one Jake. Priorities of the ordinary man, there.
Hmn. It’s not exactly the West Wing.
Oops, James Cameron has brought out the “we’ve had 13 years of your government…” gun. Bit early for that weapon I think, Jimmy.
Jake meanwhile is spunking his only load - everything gone wrong in the last 65 years was those two and them lot - all over the stage. I think Alastair Stewart is going to have to rally round with a J-Cloth.
Jake is like a morning TV host, I think. Sort of a nice Nick Owen. Lovely. Not perhaps someone you want in charge of the UK. He’d be nice introducing an item about Wheelie Bin have-a-go heroes in Tyne Tees.
Oh and Jacqueline from Burnley in the audience? Don’t ask a question with the word burglary in it if you pronounce it Burgulry. Twit.
Ooooh, James went to Crosby and spoke to a woman who was robbed. The thief set fire to her couch and killed her son. I don’t know what policy will outlaw this. Banning teenagers from lazing about on couches, I suppose. It’s not very clear.
Jake has mentioned the cost of ID cards. Cut to Golden, he chuckled in a fat chinned smug way, like Robert Robinson chewing a nourishing pun.
Hmn, not very clever point there by Golden. Apparently 80% of police time should be spent on the street. However -
Ooops, James was at a drug rehab centre recently. He gets about doesn’t he. He seems to be at the scene of a lot of crimes. I’d get him in for questioning frankly.
- Sorry, anyway. Police spending 80% of time on the street. And yet you can now bring out an injunction against the police if you don’t feel they’ve helped enough.
Hmn. That’s a lot of paperwork to do in 20% of your time. Idiot.
Hey up, Golden’s dad ran a youth club. That’s a point, surely? A youth club dad?
Jake is very happy with his “jails are colleges for crime.” Third time he’s said it. Ahh, but now he said “the youngsters of today.” Oh Jake. What’s next “political correctness gone mad? A postcode lottery?”
Ahh! The first genuine laugh. Golden has thanked James for putting up pictures of him all over the country with a smile on his face. Oh, and nice work Golden! He hit James with “this isn’t Question Time, this is Answer Time!” James blustered over this like the plum sucking Harry Enfield caricature.
Ooops, James’s mother was a magistrate. Short sharp shock, was her method. Does that beat a dad who ran a youth club? I’ll need to check my Leadership Top Trumps.
Well it’s been a half hour and - well - so far I think Jake has it. If he doesn’t get a shot at PM, he could host a channel 4.30pm Five chat show. He is a little like a keen shiny faced gifted 5th former running for student council.
Oh! Killer blow from James. Lots of eye contact and pointing and “cleaning up Whitehall.” He’s like an incredibly educated Charles Bronson. With an egg for a head. Quite a shiny pale egg at that. Egg Bronson. No, that doesn’t really work. Charles Bronsegg. No, I’ll leave it.
James is back to the “you’ve had 13 years to do this…” I think he can wheel this one out one more time before it becomes a catch-phrase. I see it on t-shirts from tomorrow. Not quite “Frankie Say Relax” but there you are.
47mins in and Jake has - at last! - brought up proportional representation for the first time. Knew it was coming and worth the wait, like an old classic at a wedding. The Lib Dem’s “Come On Eileen” if you will.
Woah! Jakey! Nice work. James and Golden have raised a point about being able to sack MPs who break the law. Jakey, allegedly, suggested this law a year ago and neither Labour nor Conservatives voted for it. Get in Jakey! Nice work. Should go online and check this.
Won’t.
James has mentioned his kids for the first time. 41 minutes in. Apparently he wants to “set the schools free.” That’s nice. I didn’t realise the manifesto had been written by the cast of HAIR.
Apparently 17000 teachers are attacked every year. And James wants discipline, which is “the one thing that doesn’t cost any money.” Drivel, Jimmy frankly. A decent tazer is going to set you back £199 according to Amazon.
James has said “Quangoes” for the 3rd time. Does anyone still say “Quango?” What’s next, British Rail pies? For fuck’s sake, it‘s like the Wheel-tappers and Shunters Club.
I must say that Golden looks well. He’s lost weight, got a bit of colour in his cheeks. His cheeks are still flapping about his trouser pockets, but still. You can’t have everything.
“I’m not sure if you’re like me,” Jake says, “but the more they attack each other, the more they sound the same.” (weak laugh). I’m not like you, Jake. Of course if Adrian Chiles, Nick Ross or Nick Knowles are watching, they’ll probably feel different.
Oh the dullest question from a grey haired duffer. Something about the budget. I forgot it even as I was typing. So great, now we’ve got three men saying “deficit” for twenty minutes. I might go for a poo now.
I’m back.
Well, apparently Jake’s manifesto was the only one to mention actual spending figures. Which is brave. Of course if I wasn;t going to become Prime Minister, I’d be able to promise whatever the fuck I wanted too. He really does talk from a smug position, playing the most devilish of Devil’s Advocates. Or as Cameron pronounces it: “Advocaa”
Golden has said “double dip” recession for the second time. I didn’t know what he meant the first time, frankly.
I tell you what’s odd. The lack of audience response. The speeches and soundbites are straight off manifesto drafts and lifted from Question Time, but due to the arrangement of the debate, there is no applause. So no matter how punchy or snappy the promise, it all falls on an eerie flat studio silence. So it’s more like a Vernon Kay gameshow actually.
Hmn. Golden is putting all his questions and challenges to James Cameron. He seems to be ignoring Jake The Clegg completely. I guess they’ve been coached to fight each other - the big guns - and not waste ammunition chopping Jakey’s legs off. Puts Jake at an advantage frankly, as he isn’t being attacked. Could back-fire here, gents frankly. Watch it. You’ll be sorry if he gets in.
So will I, frankly.
Actually, looking at it, the set looks like the one from Numberwang, if that means anything to you.
“Our brave servicemen and servicewomen do an extraordinary job,” says Jake. Beautiful patriotic nod there. Let’s hear the others top that.
Oh, there they go. “My pride and admiration for the armed forces,” says GB. “Let’s remember those who have lost their lives.”
Fuck. I think JC is going to have to play the Jupiter Suite on a bugle to top this.
Here we go: “Can I thank you for what you do…bravey…courage and determination…humbles you…brave fighter…diplomats…atheletes…”
Athaletes?? Hmn, lost it a bit at the end there James.
Okay. Well it’s been going (GB just said “brave troops”. Again) for 67minutes. Honestly, it hasn’t been what you call impressive. Polite, certainly. It can sort of be summed up like this.
Golden: It’s getting better. Stick with us. It’ll keep getting better. And if it doesn’t, you can sue us.
James: No it isn’t. You had your chance. Thirteen years thirteen years thirteen years…
Jake: Let me try! Let me try! Muuuum!
Now they’re banging on about helicopters. Apparently the Chinooks had to be refitted because they weren’t built for the terrain.
The terrain? They’re helicopters. Isn’t their terrain air?
If they’re not built to fly in air then yes, I’d think a refit is long overdue.
Oooh, an NHS question about funding. Let’s see how they do…
Golden doesn’t want people to have to go to nursing homes OR old people’s homes. Interesting distinction there, buddy. Aren’t they the same thing? Where are the soon to be out of life-peerage doddery Lords going to go? Didn’t think that through did he?
Get in Jimmy! He has stepped up and thanked the questioner (a nurse) for all their hard work. GB didn’t think of that. I predict he’ll crowbar that in any second now.
Jake’s turn now…
Ooh, but of a bitchy dig. “It’s easy to say we respect and value the NHS.”
He’s right, though is Jakey. Look.
I respect and value the NHS.
See. Doddle.
We’re in the last 11 minutes now. It’s Charlie Brooker on the other channel at 10pm. Like a Mars bar, a Lucozade and a silver foil jacket at the end of a marathon.
JC has brought out the “they’ve had 13 years…” mantra again. Nice to see him, to see him? NICE. Good game, good game. Give us a twirl.
Jakey has just said “billions and squillions.” Yes, squillions. What is he, 5 years old? I confidently expect “ooooh, David and Gordon sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S and I-N-G” in a minute.
Okay, bored of this now. James Cameron has just said we have a worse cancer survival rate than Bulgaria.
That’s not a thing. When did Bulgaria become a comparable to anything?
Jakey is asking for honesty again. This is becoming his catch-phrase.
Golden doesn’t have a catch-phrase really. I think I like him because of that. I obviously hate his pale blue shirt and pink tie though. So it’s a toss up. I suppose a red tie is a little Ken Livingstone / Ben Elton. So well done stylists. Or Peter Mandelson. Or whoever lent him that.
I tell you, Nick Griffin would have spiced this up.
A word on the looks.
Golden Brown: Suit from M&S (The pricier Autograph range).
James Cameron: Jermyn Street, top to tail.
Jake The Clegg: River Island sale 1998
Well it’s all over.
I’m going to turn over for Charlie Brooker now so - ohmigod, he’s changed his hair. Charlie looks about 22 years old - I’ll leave you to make up your mind.
This is not a soapbox for my political opinions so I’m not going to pressure you.
But based on the last 90 minutes?
He’s. . .Jake . . .The . . . Clegg, diddle-iddle-iddle-um, he’s gone up a peg (or two) diddle-diddle-diddle-dum.
See you in the polling booths.
Love to all
Rx
Morning all
I say morning, even though it’s eleven thirty at night. But I can’t imagine any of your fine people are going to be up scouring the interweb at 2am when this edition hit’s the electronic e-waves.
So good Friday morning to you all.
And ding ding, seconds away, it’s round two.
I’m back, your political roving reporter (roving all the way to the dining table to get the laptop and back to the couch with my Acer). It’s 11:34pm and the BBC repeat of Sky News’s turn at debate-hosting has just begun. I don’t have SKY myself so I couldn’t watch it live, so I’ve stayed up late to bring you on-the-spot-three-hours-later commentary on this, the second election debate.
I should be in bed, frankly.
Anyway, here we are, in the garish, scaremongering Michael Bay glitzy gloss of Sky News.
And it’s a very different set up to start with. The usual rows of pensioners and misfits. Three podiums (podia?) and an all black studio (the backdrop, not the audience, obviously).
They’ve gone for a modern UK motif - lots of abstract broken union jacks. It’s like it’s a Blur retrospective at Tate Modern frankly.
There they all are. Dark suits, each. Golden Brown (lays me down, in my mind he runs) has gone with a full on Ben Elton red tie this time. No doubt bowing to party criticism. Jake the Clegg (diddle-iddle-iddle-um, with his extra party donations, diddle-iddle-iddle-um) has gone for a striking gold number. How does he get that knot so neat?
But, shock horror probe, James Avatar Cameron has had his people choose him a bit of neckwear in frankly erotic purple. Purple. A mixture of red and blue. Hmn, insert smart arsed home-made satire there.
And we’re off. Opening statements…
Well from minute one Golden is confused. He’s said that “if this is a talent contest all about style and PR, he’s not interested.”
Nice dissing of the X-factor crowd there. What would Danni say?
But he goes on, “if it’s serious issues, I’m your man.”
I’m your man? I hardly think quoting George Michael is the way to state your seriousness, Goldy.
But anyway, questions have begun.
First up, someone in the building trade. A question about how he has managed to evade immigration laws and get over here from Poland?
No, it seems not. A dull question about Europe.
All tonight is going to be foreign policy as far as I know. That’s going to be tough. I don’t think calling Al Queda, the Taliban or the French “brave, courageous, determined, humbling diplomatic athletes" is going to be a vote winner. But let’s see how they get on.
Well unsurprisingly perhaps, James Cameron is going to stand up to Europe. He won’t be kicked around by Brussels. Which reminds me of what Stephen Fry once said about ‘faceless Brussels Eurocrats’ - what’s so “facey” about Whitehall?”
Ahh, Jake is not a Eurosceptic. He’s a . . . Euro-whatever-the-opposite-of-sceptic-is. Apparently Jake says the weather doesn’t stop at the cliffs of Dover. Well he’s right about that. Unlike quality pop music and underarm hygene of course, which clearly does.
Golden predictably is back to his stats. Spend a million this, save ten thousand that. His people really need to tell him that it’s heart, not numbers, that work on television. Unless you’re watching Countdown.
Oops and he’s knocking James directly again. Perhaps they’re going to ignore Jake like last week. Can they afford to? I bet they’ll start having a go when they’ve warmed up a bit.
Not quite the excitement of last week, frankly. I think the novelty and the adrenaline gave last week’s a bit of edge. Plus Jake The Clegg’s triumphant Balboa-esque under doggedness was a highlight. Now? Well it’s just three dull men instead of 2 dull men and a 6th form upstart.
James Cameron has said the R word about Europe. (Referendum, that is. Not rabies).
Although Jake is bringing up European paedophiles. I suppose paedophilia is the rabies of the noughties.
There’s a sentence you never thought you’d read.
Oh now it’s referendum this referendum that. Okay, am I completely wrong to think that what most people probably want is to have intelligent, educated, honest experts, economists and specialists who have the good of mankind at heart to study and decide this big questions for us. Don’t ask us directly. We don’t know. We don’t. Do you? No, you don’t. Like me, you think:
a. Be easier, an’ that, going on holiday, having the Euro. Easier.
b. Shame though. To lose the pound. Nice, in’it. Pounds. Queens head and that.
And that’s as far as you’ve thought.
As Morgan Stanley Freeman said in the movie “Se7en”, what people want is to eat cheeseburgers and play the lotto.
Blimey, according to Jakey - he’s lost it now - Europe is full of “homophobes, anti-semites and nutters.”
Nutters? What sort of fucking word is that to use in 2010?
I’m going to wait and see if James and Goldy follow suit…
Yep! Goldy has just said “The continent is full of gaylords and wallys.”
Not really.
15 mins in and it’s the first “joke” of the night.
Golden said, “these two remind me of my boys arguing at bath time.” Bit of a giggle from the crowd.
Bathtime in his house must be very odd.
“Daaaaad, James has pledged to use 10% less Matey Bubble Bath in 2011 but his manifesto said he’d increase washing.”
“Shuddup! Daaaaad, John wants to form a coalition between his Lego men and his Playpeople.”
Nice! James Cameron jabbed in with “that line worked well in rehearsal.” Ooooh, meow! Bitchy cat fight.
Now the adjudicator has called for question B.
B? Why not 2?
I guess thankfully that means we can’t have more than 26 questions?
Question from Stuart: would we go back to war overseas to fight terrorism?
Golden pronounces Al Qaeda as “Arkeda”, which makes them sound like violent fundamentalist cub scout leaders. Surely the real threat. Let’s see the UN woggle out of that one. (sorry)
Great, now they’re all back to playing “who can name check the questioner the most.” It’s Stuart Stuart Stuart. Horrible point scoring.
A-ha! We’re back to our armed forces so it’s adjectives away. Goldy has opened the salvo with “Professional and dedicated troops, brilliant and dedicated.”
That’s -count ’em - two dedicateds.
Let’s see if the others can top that…
Yep, James agrees. Plus, interestingly, is “blown away” by our troops when he visits Afghanistan. Interesting choice of words, James. No doubt he’s “knocked out” by our hard working Olympic boxing team and “chuffed” at the state of Great Western Railways.
Ooop, Jake is back to Stuart Stuart Stuart. No mention of bravery though…
Spoke too soon. Jake’s been to Helmund and has been talking to mechanics. Very very courageous men and women mechanics. Courageous mechanics? I suppose so.
James is dedicated to “Securing our future for the future.”
Nice.
Oooooh, Goldy has told Jake to “get real, get real.” Blimey, girlfriend. That’s some sass. He’s like a young Tyra Banks. Fierce.
A-ha, a lady called Nicola has asked a personal question about what THEY have done in the last 6 months to help the environment. Let’s see who comes out on top here…
Goldy takes trains and has a solar panel in his house in Scotland? A solar panel? In Scotland? What does that do? Power a Sodastream full of Irn Bru for 30 seconds a year?
James has had his house insulated. Nice for him.
Oooh, Jakey takes trains when he’s “not laden with his kids.” Spermy Jake and his fertile balls. Obviously threatened by James purple tie.
Hmn, “get real” appears to be tonight’s catch-phrase. Everyone’s telling everyone to “get real.”
Marvellous. A manifesto pledge written by the Janet Street Porter during Channel 4’s “yoof TV” phase.
Blimey, environment wise, everyone is throwing everything into the mix now. Gas storage, wind power, nuclear, more lagging. Everyone’s scrabbling for an answer here. Goldy is pro-nuclear. One has to presume he hasn’t seen “The Medusa Touch” starring Richard Burton.
Now then, an obviously gay questioner called Michael. Cropped hair and a bony face. He wants to know if they’ll distance themselves from the pope what with his embarrassing stance on…well, pretty much everything.
Oooh, it’s created a bit of an atmos. Everyone’s on eggshells here. Edgy and stuttery tones all round. They all agree it would be “nice” to have the Pope here. Lovely. Golden is one of those men who pronounce it “homo-sexy-yew-ality.” Twit.
Have just noticed, the Sky News election logo is spikey bits of blue, white and red like Superman’s Fortress of Solitude. I guess green issues are the kryptonite.
See what I (nearly) did there?
Hmn, apparently “no punishment is too great for those responsible for the expenses scandal.” No punishment is too great? What about rusty knitting needles hammered under the toenails of their children? Y’know, just to get the ball rolling? That isn’t “too great” a punishment? Crumbs. That's Goldy. Tough on crime, tough on the causes of crime. And on MP's children's toenails.
Wh-what? An actual policy announcement? James is raising the retirement age for men by one year? Oh bloody hell. I feel tired already. And here I am, 12:30am, still up.
Pension question now. Everyone has said “dignity” fifty times. James has accused Golden of “frightening people” in an election. “You shouldn’t do that,” says James.
Although frankly, he’s one to talk about scaring people. He put up 50foot posters of Gordon’s smile all over the fucking country.
James is back to his theme - give the money direct to the people.
Hmn. Right. The people who choose to spend their money on talking “Little Britain” key-rings, inside-out stitched Ben Shermans and Iceland frozen turkey drummers?
Ahhh, an elderly chap called Frank has brought up the question of a coalition. James has worked with others, but he thinks it’s best if he works alone. Like Robbie Williams, I suppose.
It’s a dull subject and everyone’s predictably claiming they’ll make it work if they have to. I don’t know what Frank the questioner thought they’d say, to be honest. A waste of 10 minutes.
Apparently if the Tories win then on day one, Afghanistan is the priority. On day one? Give over, James. Day one will be for Alka Seltzer, smugness and Pickfords vans and you fucking know it.
A question from a woman called Bethlehem. There’s a thing. I’m looking forward to seeing all three say “Bethlehem” with a straight face. She’s an immigrant who’s been here 13 years and wants to know what they’re going to do about immigrants. Hmn, presumably she means other immigrants, rather than herself? Not sure.
Apparently the Conservatives are the ONLY party who want an immigration cap. I think he’s wrong. Pretty sure the BNP have a similar idea.
Oooh, closing statements.
Goldy B - “The buck stops here.” Yeahhh, I don’t know what he means by that. Please send in answers if you know. He’s hurrying to get all his points across. But he’s practised, no doubt about that.
James C - he’s accused Goldy of using his closing statement to “frighten people.” He does know that that’s actually his face, right? And his actual voice? Frankly, and I’ll stick my colours to the post here, if there anything more frightening than the idea of a smug new Tory government with braying home counties cunts in tweed Barbours leaning against agas and saying “fwaff” while eating fox for the next four fucking years, I don’t know what it is.
And finally Cleggy’s turn. He’s banging the “do things differently” drum. Got the last place, eyes to camera, very compelling.
Well that’s it for another night.
Jake has kept any voters he got from last week’s debate I’d say, but I don’t think he’s won any more tonight. No longer the underdog, no more the novelty, he‘s going to have to do more than say “do things differently.”
Tonight seemed more a selection of practised sound-bites and question avoidance. I’d like to let Paxman at ‘em for 90 minutes personally.
Shall we do this again next week? Or has this run its course now? Happy too, but I’ll let the Guest Book decide.
I’m all for democracy in action.
Sorry, that should be in Acton.
Love to all
Rx
A few words on debates II - The Revenge
23rd April 2010
A few words on debates III - In Terrifying 2D
29th April 2010
Evening all
A tremendous Thursday evening to you all plus everyone else and such not. How the devilly are you? It’s been a sunny week, eh? Y’can’t move on commuter trains for bare upper-arms, sequinny flip-flops and Claire’s Accessory sunglasses shoved into blonde hair. I hear, as is traditional*, we’re in for a gloomy wet Bank Holiday. A Monday of clouds and storms and melancholy slate grey Victorian skies, as the lovely Morrissey once said.
*You’ll note I said “traditional” there. Ahh the British clichés, a lovely warm blanket of half-thought out ill-advised prejudices and 1970s Grumpy Old Man middle-English twittery to snuggle against. Ideally on a wet Bank Holiday eating Fish n Chips watching a Robin Asquith movie listening to Elgar on the Home Service with Robert Robinson.
Anyhap, it’s Thursday night. My lovely wife is out with - oh what are they called? Those things? Lovely, supportive, generous things? Trusted, kind, helpful? You know. C’mon. They text and email and visit out of kindness and one does likewise? Which sadly takes time from my busy schedule of indoor, curtain-shut, coffee-breathed selfish, self-obsessed insular grumpy half-baked project work. What are they -?
Friends! That’s it. Friends. Dearie me. I knew that would come to me eventually. Yes, she is out with friends being lovely and charming and gracious and caring. We tend to split this role by and large as more often than not I get adolescent idiot fuckwitted withdrawl pangs from being separated from a keyboard or a 1958 resissue sunburst bound-edged Fender Telecaster for more than three fuckin' hours. A grumpy, contemptible teenage habit oft kept under control by daily 20mg doses of Fluoxetine, PG Tips and West Wing reruns.
I love you all. You know that, right? Why you put up with me, frankly, I can’t imagine.
Oh yes, it’s for my intelligent dazzling political, social and economic insight and commentary. Of course. So. I am - for the third and final time - going to give you popular, social, not-stuck-in front-of-the-telly-with-tortilla-chips types the live, cliché-by-cliché rolling news update of tonight’s Mass Leadership Debate. (Hee-hee! Mass debate! Snigger! There’s that intelligent dazzling political, social and economic insight and commentary I promised).
So, the big hand is on the twelve and the little hand is on Jeremy Beadle’s corpse so - eyes down for a full house…
…of commons…
…debate.
Thing.
Ahem. Here we go.
Ooooh, we’ve got a Dimbleby in the chair. That’s nice isn’t it. The Dimbles. A real old school BBC image. The man has authority, with his solemn jowels and white hair. He’s been kitted out a bit in a designery tie (pink flowers on glossy black). Plus a rather chi-chi single breasted black suit. I think he’s been to Gary Lineker’s tailor frankly. In fact I’ve just realised: he’s turned into Kirk Douglas a bit.
“I’m the chair of the proper BBC debate.”
“No, I’M chair of the proper BBC debate.”
“No, I’M chair of the proper BBC debate!” And so on (only fuckin Kirk Douglas joke in the world).
Righto, opening statements.
James “Terminator” Cameron to start. Gosh golly, a very very pink face James. It looks like he’s been laying a patio in his Jermyn Street shirt sleeves for a solid afternoon in Swanage. He’s gone, rather predictably, for a bold solid blue tie in something of a flat printer's Cyan. Some sort of Conservative perhaps? Who’da thunk.
Next it’s Jaaaaake The Clegg (diddle iddle iddle um, and his final opportunity to beg, diddle iddle iddle um). Now, one of the Lib’s fashionisti (I like to think it’s Gok Wan, possibly Trinny, definitely not Suzannah, commie pinko bitch) has decided a dark grey single breasted suit and a bold orange tie is the winning look.
Much like the uniform department of Sainsbury’s store assistant managers do as well. I confidently expect one of the audience questions to be “can you tell me what aisle to find the pesto?”
Jake also has something of a fushia hue to his chops. Hmn. Perhaps he was helping James with his patio laying. There’s an image.
Golden Brown (never a frown, with Golden Brown. Well, never a proper frown. Or smile frankly). He’s gone for a purple tie with pale spots. Ahhh, and cleverly, before anyone else gets a dig in, he’s made the first reference to yesterday’s bigot snafu. “I don’t always get it right.”
Y’know, despite the tabloids hoo-haa, I have a funny feeling that’s that on the matter. I think anymore reference to it will look like pointy-scoring bullying. Espesh’ as he’s brought it up first. Good trick. Clearly learnt from Eminem in the final showdown in “8 Mile” (one of his favourites, I happen to know/think/hope.That and Dunston Checks In).
And Golden is also pinkish of chops. Y’know I think it’s the lights. The BBC have gone for a backdrop of misty sky blue pink sort of image of Westminster, with moody spotlights sweeping in and out. It looks, frankly, like the stage of a regional touring Dire Straits Brother‘s In Arms tribute act playing Watford town hall.
Anyway, enuff fluff. First question. Spending cuts.
Golden has gone straight in with the “double dip” recession again remark. Still not sure what he means. Does he mean 2 recessions? Or a recession too big to get all the Doritos salsa in one go? Probably that.
I’ve also just noticed from a side view of behind his podium, Golden has one foot on tippy toe. Like he’s on the starting blocks of a gay Westminster sports day fun run.
Which in a sense, I suppose, he is.
Goldy "doesn’t want us to make the mistakes of the 1930s, 1980s and 1990s."
Now it’s not clear if he means one mistake repeated (an economic one) or just three individual mistakes from those eras. Presumably Golden doesn’t want us to
a. underestimate Germany’s feelings about the end of the First World War
b. Commission Only Fools & Horses
c. Buy records by The Inspiral Carpets.
The real threats in modern Britain.
James wants us to roll up our sleeves now. I hate that expression. We need to roll up our sleeves. Personally, I’d rather we dress appropriately for the job in hand and not fasten our cufflinks before fisting the home help.
But that's me.
Golden says: “You go to America, you look at France, you look at Germany.”
Well, you don’t. You look t the Empire State Building, Dennys, Mickey Mouse and fat xenophobes. To look at France and Germany, I’d fly a low plane over Europe. But what do I know.
To be honest, Golden sounds like an economist. He’s talking like a lecturer and sounds impressive and educated. The benefit of experience paying off.
Granted the experience of watching an economy get fucked into a Homburg, but experience ne’er the less.
Hmn, Jake is very keen on getting all three parties together to fix this. It’s too big a problem for one party to solve. That’d be a productive meeting. Bickering over the choice of mineral water. Tch.
A question from Adina Wright, a large black woman with an oddly crimson shaded afro. The taxman has taken more and more from the average worker’s payslip. A pretty frank question.
Well, we’re back to the last couple of week’s tactics again. Golden is continually knocking James Cameron. Jake seems to be avoiding direct strikes.
Golden has brought up James’s tax breaks for the rich. James apparently “can’t stop” the other taxes.
Can’t stop them.
They are unstoppable? Like a natural force. Funny that, I always thought they were artificial fiscal policies invented by economists and politicians. Apparently no, they’re more like a monetary tsunami. How unsettling.
Ahh, Jake agrees with Adina. He’s all for closing loopholes for rich people who can afford football team sized accountants. But not, presumably, football team dressed accountants.
Apparently James Cameron says the most basic human instinct is to give your home to your children after you die.
Right. Uh, where to begin with this. After you die?
Don’t know much ‘bout history. Don’t know much biology (and so on Motown fans). But I am pretty sure the basic human instincts after you die are smelling, rigormortis and rotting.
But no, apparently it’s sound estate investment.
Ah-ha, at last! Cleggy makes a strong point about allowing low income earners to keep more of their earnings. Golden is getting pretty feisty. And pretty angry too. Blimey, he’s called James Cameron immoral. Ooooh, now James is hitting back. It’s getting hot and bothered. But grand to finally see some blood up. Nice work chaps.
Cuddly Attenboroughesque Kirk Dimbles is stepping in. He wants to know about a LibLab coalition. Golden’s beautifully side-stepped it and is hitting back at James’s inheritance tax to help the top 3000 earners.
James has beautifully avoided the issue. Again.
It’s a great trick, gang and one I think we could all use.
What you do is spend 30 seconds on the point (10 seconds thanking the questioner personally, 10 seconds on how important the point is and how glad you are it was brought up and finally 10 seconds saying the questioner is right).
And then, dear readers, completely change the subject with judicious use of one of the following handy cut-out-and-keep phrases:
“…But the one point I want to make,”
“…But I come back to this point,”
“…But, y’know the key to all this is”
Brilliant.
Questioner Ian Grey has an unfortunate hangdog face but a good question. A question about the banking bonuses.
James wants a Bank levy. A levy? Who is he, Don Maclean?
Oh and this you’ll like: High Street banks should not be behaving like Casinos “making wild bets”
Hmn.
Jimmy C has sort of misunderstood how Casinos work there. Casinos, traditionally, don’t make “wild bets.” Or indeed “any fucking bets at all.”
That’s the tourists in the casinos, he’s thinking of.
Casinos traditionally simply rake in gobs of dollar bills with frightening efficiency.
So banks are pretty much doing that already.
Clegg? Ahh well, no bonuses above £2500. Plus no bonuses for directors and no bonuses for failing banks.
Right. Can’t help thinking an awful lot of fat necked centre-partinged ski-holidaying city-boy twunts are going to be turning off at this point.
Not really Clegg. I’m teasing.
All the fat necked centre-partinged ski-holidaying city-boy twunts have been watching Top Gear reruns on Dave all night. “Politics? Tch, borin’ in’it. Fwarr, look at that Masarati.”
Now Jake wants a levy.
Golden wants a global levy.
They’re going to need a fucking big Chevy to get there if they’re all going. Plus, aren’t levy’s famously dry? Probably best to stop off at Costa Coffee for a mocha before you get there, fellahs.
Golden has used the phrase “same old Conservative party” twice now. See what he’s doing there? Comes from being in power for 13 years I guess. He’s got to remind us of the bad old days.
Wow! Get Jimmy C down with the hood.
This on difficult policy: “Do I want to? You’re damn right I do.”
Damned right?
Great, he’s turned into Shaft.
Who’s the posh private educated dick who’s a sex machine to all the chicks? Cam! Can you dig it?
Oh and now the government has to roll up their sleeves as well as us.
I can’t help thinking t-shirts would have been a good idea all round.
Elderly Jean Simpson‘s question: “This area used to be full of businesses who made things.”
Yep. But we didn’t want them anymore, Jean. Silly woman.
Apparently, according to Jakey “a body without blood circulating in it just sort of stops.”
Hmn. Just sort of stops.
I think we can all be glad that Nick’s surgery in his constituency is a political one, not a medical one.
“Doctor, I’ve got a machete in my skull!”
“Hmn, it will just sort of hurt.”
Golden has put his foot down now.
Not about policy. I mean he’s actually put his foot down. He’s not on tippy toe anymore. In case you were worried. A sign of calming down. Or a septic verucca that’s now gone numb.
What?! Apparently Birmingham is very good at bio-technology. Odd it never turned up in any Michael Crichton novels then. Apart from Jurassic…
Nope, can’t think of any Brummie things that sound like “Park.”
But I suppose Birmingham must have parks, right?
So “Jurassic Park (but a park in Birmingham)”
Doesn’t really work, frankly.
We’re about at the halfway point. To be honest, Golden’s solemn serious-business attitude is compelling. He does rather make the other two look like idealistic upstarts. He can feel proud of that.
Now James is talking about jobs and how important it is to have more Apprentices.
Yep, that’s what we need. 10,000 sixteen-year-old school leavers in grey suits and gelled hair saying “Thass wot I’m tawkin’ abaaaat” to Alan Sugar.
Hmn. Have noticed Golden is very fond of talking about what he wants. “We want to do this, we want to do this.” Which is, y’know, nice an ‘all. But frankly I could talk about what I want. I think we’re really more interested in how he’d get it.
Now James says the government is a huge purchaser, “but doesn’t buy from small businesses.” Erm, probably that’s why, James.
“Hello, Mike’s electronics?”
“Yep, Mike speaking.”
“Can we order 35000 computers for all departmental offices?”
“Uhm, well yes. But it’s just me and wife makin’ them in the back bedroom. Would take about 100 years?”
“Tch, typical, small businesses letting down the country again.”
Click, drrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr...
An immigration question from a chap called Radley Russell. Oooh, will Golden get hit with yesterday’s bigot gate?
I know, it‘s not really a “Gate.” But people like a good “gate.” Camilla-gate was a good one.
I wonder what they would call a scandal about miners not leaning their teeth before going to work? (Answer at the bottom of the page).
James “agrees with the questioner.” No name use though, notice that? Has he forgotten Radley‘s name? Wish I fuckin’ could.
Radley? For heaven’s sake.
Nice work by Kirk Dimbles. He keeps repeating the audience question when they go off track. Stops them hijacking the question with their “but the key issue is…” techniques.
Nice work Dimbles. You’re a great chair.
(No, I’m a great chair!) etc etc the same joke as before.
I’m telling you, there aren’t any others.
Blimey, got a bit exciting there. James is directly attacking Jake’s immigration amnesty. Makes a pleasant change. Jake is fighting back. Voices are raising, some interruptions. Jake has said you can’t cap the 80% who enter the country from the EU. He’s hitting James with a Paxmanesque “just answer the question, yes or no? Yes or no?” Real meat there. It was actually a bit exciting. This is what we want.
Oh Jesus, a question from a well to do and well kept young woman. Anna. Married to a chartered accountant with 2 kids - can’t afford to get on property ladder. Oh fuck off Anna. You can have my house. You just can’t have the one off Grand Designs that you want. Get the fuck over y’self.
James wants to build new houses. Yeah, like Anna and Giles and the two kids Popsy and Tabitha wants a Barrett home on a New Town estate.
Hmn, odd point there. Golden was brought up to believe “that work is how you reward people.”
He’s thinking of ice-cream surely? Or Scampi Nik-Naks and a Supercan at least.
Yawnosity. James has gone back to the “13 years for Golden to fix this problem.” Pretty much you can win every argument with this. Certainly Jake has used it too, and he gets the “you two have had 65 years” argument.
Now, apparently the Conservatives say “if you can put aside £8000 you can get your elderly care for free.”
Free? So what the cock happens to the £8000?
Isn’t that like saying if you give me £80,000 you can have a Lambourghini for free?
Twerp.
Ahh, more questionable knee-jerk policy.
Apparently James is for “cutting benefit if you refuse to work.”
Right. So you offer me a job and I refuse it.
So you cut my benefit. So I now have zero income.
What happens now? I starve to death? Book myself into A&E with malnutrition and dehydration? Turn to crime? They’re not going to let 16 year olds die on the streets. They’ll have to give them something. Some sort of support.
Like, oh I don’t know, unemployment benefit.
Twat.
I would genuinely say, with 10 short minutes to go, Golden is ahead tonight. His gaffe yesterday hasn’t been touched on since he did the decent thing and brought it up himself. A surprising turn of events, readers.
Now a question about “opportunities” from a young chap called Michael.
Golden says “my mother used to say...”
So that’s good, in 14 days he’s gone from quoting George Michael to quoting Junior. That‘s progress
Oh nice touch James, he’s thanked Michael for his hard work.
Didn’t think of that, Browny, did you? Addled Caledonian head full of 80s reggae funk that it is.
Oh Golden, don’t say you feel “passionate about opportunities for infants and young children.” Opportunities for infants? What are they meant to do, Mr Tebbit, get on their tricycles?
Twit.
James wants every penny of the education budget “to follow children like his.”
Children like his.
Spoilt upper middle class suburban Caucasian male toffs, presumably?
Twerp.
Ooooh, it’s five to 10. Final statements: Last chance fellahs. Give it all you got.
(But try to avoid quoting Junior or Isaac Hayes if you can).
James Cameron first.
David loves this country. We can go on and solve these problems. Family values. Work. Do the right thing. Safe and secure. I think I have a great team behind me. Liberals is uncertainty, Labour is more of the same.
Hmn. Not bad. Not very compelling. A real soundbite touch on all the hot button issues.
Yes, I said “hot button issues,” piss off.
Jakey:
He’s going to tirelessly work for us. Decent. Open. Trust. This is your election. Your country. Choose the future you really want. Differently. don’t let anyone tell you it can’t happen.
Pretty good. A little desperate. I think he knows this wasn’t his finest 90minutes. It’s his lack of experience I think. After 3 of these, it’s beginning to show.
Golden:
Thanks to those involved in the debates. Nice one Goldy, no-one else thought to do that. Whooah, he’s taking advantage of being last. He’s knocking the other and knows they can’t reply. Big causes. Big differences. They are not ready for government. Risky.
Oh Jesus, he’s ended on that creepy closed smile.
And now Dimbles is shaking hands and wrapping up.
Which is what I’ll do too.
It’s been fun, this, y’know. A bit of social comment. Well, feeble Radio 4 style sub-Now Show jokes, cheap shots and personality digs.
I hope I haven’t swayed you one way or another. But I hope you’ll all go and put a cross in a box next week. And I’ll say this, finally, from the heart, about tactical voting.
Many will smugly tell you it’s the only way. That you should vote strategically.
Me? Outcome aside, I gotta put my X next to the name that I want, no matter what that does to the outcome. A tactical vote doesn’t have “tactical” written on it. The party will count that as your support for their ideology and ideas. If you’re happy to stand up and be counted with that party and what it stands for, then go ahead.
I say, listen to your heart.
Yeah Rich, quoting Sonia lyrics. That’s the way forward.
Idiot
(oh, and it’s Coal-Gate. Minors? Teeth? See what I nearly did there? Oh suit y'self)
Love to all
Rx
