audentes fortuna iuvat

This makes me feel much better.

a/ I have plenty to work with

b/ I have been accused of being two or off my – face many a time so this gives me high hopes of a medical solution just around the corner

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Cruise Control v. Scientology

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I feel the need to publish a retraction.

I recently commented on what I believed to be Leona Lewis’ new album – “Best Kept Secret“, that it was dreadful and I completely understood the title because I felt it was indeed – best kept secret.

Having purchased and listened to this album, I felt that, while the act itself is unforgivable and I in no way condone it, I could at least understand the sentiment that recently drove a fan to slap the singer.

I am in fact quite mistaken – this is not her new album which is in fact called Echo and is being released on 16 November in the UK. The first single, Happy, is already out in the US although why not in the UK I do not know.

While the song is pretty good (please dog let the Freemasons or Darkchild at it), the title is something of a mystery given the lyrics. Par Exemple:

“Don’t care about all the pain in front of me
Cause i’m just trying to be happy, yeah”

Not cheery!

And yes, this is what passes as me being gracious.

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British Radio seems to have never escaped the war and rationing, or an aesthetic that has a charm and beauty all its own. This is of course from a man who was raised on the Goon Show by his father, a man with humour so dry it had sand dunes and camels. So take this with a grain of salt.

While some shows have progressed, and remained topical, and others deeply pointless (thank you Jonathan Ross), there remain programmes that really haven’t changed in almost 40 years.

And yet, still funny.

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India and Albania are currently having a squabble over the remains of Mother Teresa – Nun, Nobel Laureate and perpetual Jan to Princess Diana’s Marcia.

Ok. EW!!!!

Lets face it. She’s been buried a while, so unless someone did a better job of embalming her than they did of Lenin, she is probably not it a particularly appealing state by now.

But its worse than just digging up a dead old lady*, because what this really comes down to is a squabble over tourism revenue. Follow me n this one.

Nun (now dead) did great things. Said dead Nun will turn 100 next August – well, it will be 100 years since she was born, but you know what I mean. She is likely to be made a saint, or canonised as they call it – which to be honest sounds to me like they will be shooting her out of a big gun. That can’t really be that respectful, or good for her. Even if she was alive it could be messy, but dead? Well lets just hope someone has some wet ones.

That aside, now Saint Said Dead Nun, will have a sea of god botherers coming to pray at her graveside, asking for her intervention with god in their ailments, problems, business ventures, gambling – you know, the usual thing people pray about. And here is where I feel the sandal hits the pavement.

Where you have pilgrims you have not only a bunch of people looking for answers outside themselves, rather than inside where the answers are much more likely to lie, you have retail opportunities.

I don’t recall anyone running forward arms outstretched to snatch the corpse of Said Dead Nun from India when there was just an expensive state funeral involved, but now there is an opportunity to sell tasteful things like Mother Teresa bobble heads, its all kicking off.

If Albania, who are making the fuss now, just want to honour Mother Teresa and pay respect to the things she did, where her dead bodies lies should not matter. Spend the money and the energy helping the poor, rather than having a diplomatic incident over it. Think about it for a second – what would SHE have wanted?

*are dead people still old?

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Am I getting old? Is that it? Or is that I read “too” much? Perhaps I am just a cranky person and these things get to me.

Last night there were HUNDREDS of post on Facebook about Danii Minogue making a comment on X Factor (aka – one of those dreadful talent shows designed to parade peoples pain and humiliation for public amusement) about a contestants possibly being gay. Twitter went absolutely MENTAL about it.

Personally I had to turn away from it all and go listen to Radio 4 to calm myself down* and get to sleep. Not because of what she said, because all of these people online had NOTHING ELSE TO GET OUTRAGED ABOUT!!!!

For the moment, lets ignore what she said and the (very talented) lad in question sang “And I am telling you” from Dreamgirls (my homosexual detection device is pinging a touch at that). People, seriously, this is what you get upset about? Where is your Moral Compass?

Just a few things that you might want to consider directing your energies to. These are things I have seem bugger all postings about on FB from any of my friends.

• Barrack Obamah got the Nobel Peace Prize. Does that not strike you as a little early? No matter how good a story he is telling a the moment are you seriously telling me that he CURRENTLY matches up to previous Nobel Laureates like Nelson Mandella, Mother Teresa and Médecins Sans Frontières? Give the man a chance, sure. Support his efforts, absolutely! But todate Obamah has not spent 27 years in prison and been a major driving force to end apartied. Nor has he spend over 45 years ministering to the poor, sick, orphaned, and dying. The Nobel Committee seems breathlessly over enthusiastic on this one.
• Internet Eyes is going to let ANYONE in the UK use the CCTV network, encouraging them to “report crimes” they might see. Thats not at ALL worrying to you?
• Libyan “Leader” Muammar Gaddafi, a man who after over 40 years in politics STILL can’t decide how to spell his name in English, made a 100 minute speech at the UN – which just as a sidebar over ran his allotted time by 85 minutes AND caused his interpreter to walk off the job out of exhaustions. During this speech, amongst other things:
  • he accused the UN deliberately avoiding investigating JFKs murder
  • he also accused the UN being an al-Qaida-like terrorist body
  • and he stated that swine flu a biological weapon created in a military laboratory
  • the only person he gave any positivity towards was Barrack Obama, who he referred to as “my son”. This was before the Nobel Committee made its announcement, so its nice to see that they are all singing from the same page.

I will give Gaddafi this – he had a nice outfit, if a little Saturday Night Fever. Although clearly he is taking attention grabbing tips from Geri Halliwell. I am not sure which direction to be worried about that in first.

And thats not everything that happened in the last week or so. Don’t start me on the Labor or Tory Conventions, Berlusconi, the Tories making a General a Peer – lets hope thats not as much of a Coup as they are making out, or crematoriums webcasting funerals  (seriously).

If you want to get your panties in a twist over something gay and news worthy how about:

• Obama vow on gay military policy
• Its 11 years since Matthew Sheppard was beaten to death for being gay and left hanging on a chain link fence. And US politicians are STILL trying to make out that sexual orientation had nothing to do with his murder to avoid enacting anti-hate crime legislation

Is Danii Minogue suggesting someone might be gay and on a ‘talent’ show really worth all of the outrage?

REALLY?

Ok. I am now officially old and dont get it.

I am going to put my roller blades on now and go skate around Regents Park to Paloma Faith, Snow Patrol and the Smashing Pumpkins.

* Thank dog for Sandi Toksvig

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As we like to say back in the mother country, “Life’s a Beach”.

Sunshine, surprises, storms, warmth, tide pools, body surfing, tempests, naked swims together in the moonlight and solitary sunrises. The only thing about the sea, and the shore, there is always, always change.

Through what seems right now like a long life, there have been more adventures on the shore than I can name, or even rember with any ease. And there have been so many playmates and fellow travellers. Valued, no, treasured for their compainionship, leading me further astray, or pulling me babk when I needed it.

Walking along the shore of my life, and looking back, the sea has carried away almost all sign of my travels, leaving me with only echos, traces and my somewhat erratic recall. Not even my own tracks remain for that long.

And yet there are some footprints that seem to linger. Reminding me of stories, yet to happen, that want telling, if not in words, then in a least in how I walk from here.

Prints of foot steps yet to fall.

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I am feeling strangely impersonal, or disconnected today. This seems appropriate.

Some inconsequential prize to the first person who figures it out.

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The worthless word for the day is: Oblomovian

[fr. Ivan Goncharov's novel, Oblomov] 
characterized by sloth or lassitude
(see also Oblomovism, sluggish inertia)

“Gumbo was in a bad mood. His Oblomovian head 
was dizzy and drooped over the bar.”
- Drago Jancar, Mocking Desire (tr. 1998)

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So now you REALLY have the opportunity to spie on your neighbours.

Internet Eyes lets you log onto the UK CCTV network and watch people – in case they are doing something wrong.

Oh Stop it!!

Gladys Kravitz, you have better things to do. If nothing else, figuring out what they are is a start.

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