True Grit

Well, they forecasted more snow and the weather hasn't disappointed. I was crunching through about four inches of the white stuff as I left for work this morning, which made a joke of the light dusting we got a couple of weeks ago.

This time the council did grit the pavements. They also gritted the roads as the unlucky guy standing next to me and I found out as we waited to cross one - a gritting truck went past and gave us both a blast all over our trousers and shoes. And I swear the driver was laughing his head off, the b*stard!

Hot & Cold

Went for a quick drink after work last night with Big D and the Joonatic as my tube line into north London was screwed and I found myself ejected in the West End.

Discovered those two loitering around still so we decided to go and kill some time until transport matters sorted themselves out. The usual discussion about where to go for dinner eventually surfaced and we decided on duck noodle soup at Big D's new favourite lunch spot, but it wasn't to be.

On the way there we walked past the small Korean food bars by Centre Point and got enticed by the prospect of a nice tasty hotpot. The kimchi chige topped with ramen that we ordered was perfect for the cold weather at the moment because it was so spicy, we were still burning as we left!

To Grit, Or Not To Grit

Today I woke up to a wintry snow scene which has come over a month too late for Christmas. It's quite a cold spell of weather for Britain at the moment but I was surprised by how much had actually settled in my part of London.

Anyway, it made my walk to the bus stop slightly more interesting because my local council obviously hadn't expected the snow and didn't bother to grit any pavements.

Charitable TV? Get Real!

Happened to catch a new TV show last night called 'Fortune - Million Pound Giveaway'. I'm sick of all the mindless reality shows out there but this got me in another way. It had a panel of five wealthy individuals (including the disgraced ex-MP Jeffrey Archer, probably for the controversy factor) and a stream of 'contestants' who came to plead their case in order to gain a part of the million pounds on offer (the panel's own money, but what are they getting out of being on the show?).

The ITV director who commissioned the show has been quoted as saying that it, 'captures the changing climate of our time, where greed is not good and philanthropy is a growing force'. What bullshit! Clearly the show is basic car crash TV, giving the viewer 'great characters, compelling moments and riveting drama', ie people who are making idiots of themselves on national TV, performing before the smug 'richer than thou' panel who then patronisingly ponder whether to toss the poor beggars a bone from the rich table. Viewers are only watching for the spectacle, not in wonderment of the apparent generosity.

The show had a combination of the heartstring tearjerker of a cancer victim asking for a donation to a charity; a women's football team requiring funds to support themselves; a woman who wanted to furnish her house; and two teenagers who wanted to further their hobby of train travel. Many charities are worthy causes for donation and it was blatantly obvious the benefactors would not deny the poor cancer victim boy who told a heartrending tale of losing his fellow cancer victim friend in hospital. The footballistas walked with nothing as did 'need new furniture woman', but the two teenage train freaks 'charmed' the panel enough to get a handout, as did a lady dressed as a red indian squaw (really).

Call me cynical, but that was as much as I could take, as the show is just an excuse for laughing at people making tits of themselves in the hope of a bit of money, interspersed with a few 'serious' claimants such as the cancer victim (obviously inserted to remind viewers of the more caring 'philanthropic' side of the show, as opposed to the 'greed' phenomenon of people doing anything for some free cash). Whatever people's views are, ITV are hoping to make their fortunes on this show so expect a load of people doing bizarre things for an easy payday, with one or two more serious claimants to lend the show some credibility. This is just the latest shallow example to join the ranks of reality TV, but I'm sure this moneygrabbing show dressed in Good Samaritan clothing will do exactly as the commissioner intended and score ITV a load of cash because this kind of show has been proven to work.

If our times really are changing and greed isn't good whilst philanthropy is growing, then ITV should take any profits from the show and give it all to charity. How about that then? Nope, didn't think so. I don't mind the show trying to be an original format in order to gain ratings but don't be hypocritical and dress it up as a really charitable act when it's just a moneyspinner based on the antics and pratfalls of contestants enticed by free cash, in most cases driven by greed. Each to their own but I don't tend to watch reality TV shows and this isn't the one to sway me.

Happy 2007!

Here it is, the new year. Full of festive cheer, beer and painkillers, steely resolutions have been formed by many a reveller. Mine are quite simple really - just to put a little bit 'extra' into certain things. Nothing drastic, just a slight gear change.

The past year holds quite a few memorable experiences for me and it's been good, but I'm looking forward to pushing on a bit more this year towards an even better one. I'm planning to upgrade my fitness training to get back to near my old marathon running level and to be more disciplined about my creative stuff. Socially, I've been too much of a butterfly but I'm gradually learning to manage my time (and self)better!

Well everybody, wishing you a bright and happy new year! World peace is probably too much to wish for, but let's hope 2007 brings greater global understanding environmentally and politically, because we are all ultimately bound by common humanity and a debt to our most valuable resource, this blue and green planet we manage to survive on when not too busy tearing it and each other up.

Blue Blue World

So it's all over for another four long years. Non-lovers of football out there may have been complaining about the length of the tournament, but it's hard not to love the spectacle of the football World Cup. From pre-tournament predictions of the south american challenge of footballing giants Brazil and Argentina, we were left with an all-European final of France v Italy.

Set for a great spectacle and the final bow of maestro Zidane, the world's eyes were on the midfielder who had come out of retirement for a last run at glory and a team whose national football is under scrutiny for corruption. What followed was a good open game with attacking football from both sides. After entering the record books by becoming the fourth man to score in two World Cup finals, Zidane bizarrely ended a great career in disgrace by receiving a red card for headbutting Materazzi after the pair exchanged words.

The Azzurri went on to earn the win after extra-time by keeping their heads during the penalty shoot-out, netting each of their five penalty kicks. Che finale!

Imagining Imogen

Yesterday, I went to see my friend Dani M in a small play he's been involved in since it debuted up at the Edinburgh festival last summer. It's called 'Imogen' and I had no idea what it was about apart from a small blurb on the flyer and a quote from Time Out magazine endorsing it with five stars.

Being a small off-West End production, it had been showing around various small theatres and so I made my way down to East Croydon Station after work heading for the Warehouse Theatre. Not the smallest venue I've seen a play in (that honour goes to a fringe theatre performance in the back room of a Soho cafe when I was a student), but it was intimate as the stage area itself was not so deep, exposing the actors directly to the audience.

A tale of love and loss - of how a man struggles to deal with the death of his daughter from terminal illness and the ultimate strains it wreaks on his increasingly fragile marriage. Superb puppetry conjured up the image of the lost daughter who converses with her father in his mind. The two leads were excellent in conveying the heart-wrending breakdown of a marriage due to stress and mental illness brought on by familial tragedy.

Memorable scenes include a dream sequence which involved a very physical performance by the lead actor and all-round this production was a fantastic example of inventive small budget theatre. Sometimes the greatest surprises are the smallest ones to be discovered.

World Cup 2006

It's here at last, the 2006 Football World Cup - time for overt nationalism, complaints about the match ball, plus pivotal dodgy refereeing decisions which all combine to create this brilliant four-yearly footballing extravaganza.

The earliest World Cup I can remember watching was Mexico '86 when I used to rush home from school to catch whatever match happened to be on, as well as that infectious theme tune ('Aztec Gold' - what a classic!). Of course, we were all football mad in the playground at that time, screaming the names of top players as we shot.

The girls didn't have a look in, what with the Panini sticker albums which took up the rest of our playground time when we weren't attempting football in the style of the Brazilian masters such as Zico, Careca and Socrates!

Pretending to be a Brazilian superstar, swapping Panini stickers with schoolmates and watching World Cup matches at home over dinner in the warm summer evenings; like my first love, I'll never forget my first World Cup!

Click Click Ching Ching

Last week I got a random call from some woman (exact details as passed on by the message taker) to my home number while I was out. Now, all of my friends know to call to my mobile if they want to catch me and I hardly ever give out my home number. She said she'd call back and had asked for me by my full name so I figured that it was either my bank or credit card company wanting something or some kind of phone spam.

Well, I wasn't so far off the mark as it turned out to be a market research company doing a survey for one of the banks I have an account with. I was told they were carrying out research into the bank's online website and were looking for customers to take part to help them develop this. They told me it would be for two hours but that there would be food and drink and that participants would be paid £40 for their time.

The research took place a couple of nights ago in a small office in Covent Garden. All very painless as we were sat in front of laptops to explore the bank's website and just had to discuss a few things related to security. The only thing was that there was a one way mirror through which we were told the session was being observed and recorded, and I probably looked a little bored. Still, £40 for a couple hours worth of mouse clicks and my observations on internet banking was pretty easy money...

Early Bird

In some countries I've been to it's frowned upon to eat on public transport and sometimes you can even get fined. This might deter most citizens, except perhaps the hungriest, as I've known people on the Hong Kong metro system taking sneaky mouthfuls (me included!). In London there are no constraints and blatant munching on public transport is common.

The other morning on my tube to work, the carriage was filled with a greasy smell coming from a woman who was sat with her face in a foil package on her lap. At the intervals when she came up for air I could see that she was demolishing cold roast chicken, sucking and spitting out the bones.

Most of the commuters played the usual public transport ignore card, but it made for an alternative kind of Early Morning Breakfast Show.

What Time Is It?

Well, wasn't it only New Year's a few weeks ago and how come we're in March already? The first quarter of the year is nearly over and 2006 is already becoming a blur. How is it that the years seem to fly by as an adult when childhood summers seemed to last a lifetime? That might be as simple as being young and carefree with no real worries as opposed to the stresses of grown-up life causing the perception of time to differ. A new BBC series called Time is to show soon, discussing this thing which waits for nobody and allegedly heals all things.

The general idea of time is as a regulating force, something which controls our days and patterns as we go about our lives. It is something there in the background whether we like it or not, affecting us both consciously and subconsciously. Our body clocks generally work with the 24 hour daily cycle and travellers to different time zones face jet-lag because of disruption to their bodies' rhythm.

Culturally, time is a major part of the human psyche. Philosophers such as Kant and Hume have theorised time as being subjective for us, whilst some scientists have expressed it more definitively - Einstein's Theory of Relativity stating the effects on time of speed in terms of spacetime. There are many accounts of people believing time to have slowed down during moments of crisis which might give some credence to the subjective viewpoint (car crashes in slow motion etc), whilst present technology has not yet allowed us to fully prove scientific theory about time.

It's clear that time and our perception of time, is an area yet to be fully explored and understood. Hopefully this series wont' be a complete waste of it...

Not Very Whale

A media frenzy surrounded the appearance of a female northern bottle-nosed whale swimming up London's River Thames last Friday. An endangered species, the confused whale swam upstream passing the Houses of Parliament (reports that it was searching for a mate in John Prescott are as yet unfounded) while onlookers lined the banks of the river. Unfortunately, a rescue attempt failed and the whale died on Saturday.

Obviously, lifting it onto a barge to transport it back down the river contributed to its demise. Out of the water the mass of a whale's body is no longer supported and their skeletons are not designed to do so, leading to organs being compressed and breathing difficulties. Unsurprisingly, after some time on the barge the whale died.

Officially the Natural History Museum is to deal with the carcass but it remains to be seen whether whale steak becomes the dish of the week in some of London's restaurants, or Damien Hirst puts it in formaldehyde for display in the Tate Modern Gallery. [Read story]