As I took my ticket in the small art deco cinema in Hertfordshire, I should have asked "Where does the magic happen?". Why else would I voluntarily sit in an almost empty dark room on a summer's day?
The power in a larger screen, as opposed to the haunted gold fish bowl in you living room is to emote you into another dimension, and although I'm quite blasé about this media I found myself so transported. Alternately I was repulsed by the violence, enraptured by the close ups of Mélanie Laurent (the vengeful Jewess Shosanna Dreyfus) and had my heart racing in apprehension for the plot outcome. Perhaps I should get out more.
Some of the cinematography was a bit sixth form, with a kind of "Let's just try this..." attitude as cameras were plonked by steps or in the back of trucks, and the plot, like a lot of fantasy, is just a clothes horse for these cartoonesque characters.
Actually, that's the way to compartmentalise this film - think of it as a violent, witty, fast moving cartoon with Brad Pitt as Top Cat with a penchant for sadism and you're part way there - right down to the unjustified over-confidence and annoying American accent.
There's lots to recommend this film, and it was really my cup of tea. There was something special about Mélanie Laurent putting on her veil and observing her in her three beauty-spot allure. Oh, and a fancy dress party of guys in dress Nazi uniforms with waitresses in suspenders seems like the kind of party I want to go to.
Ultimately it's a romp, and probably not a harmless one. But hey, if you hate Nazis, it'll be your thing.
Thursday, 27 August 2009
Monday, 23 February 2009
Smug Couples
Cast your mind back to 21. First job, second love, cash and leather trousers.
Actually I was at Uni, and I knew a couple called Tania and Al. To save their embarrassment I have used their real names - any other combination of names would have chanced upon someone I actually cared about.
Tania was sweet enough, and Al was tolerable in small doses, but Tania was always so unbearably happy and Al was smug in a kind of "I'm getting some" kind of way. Tania had a big smile, and a quick wave. But she never really had any time for me, and guess what, when Al dumped here, I didn't really have much time for her. I'm sure she had good friends, but she would have had another friend if she gave those around her a bit more. It's a case of investing time for the future.
Today, I want to talk about the long game. Everyone is familiar with the syndrome of your mate starting to ignore you once they're in a strongly monogamous relationship. Coffee dates are missed, phone calls and emails go unanswered.
OK - that's human. But it's a story that's often repeated. Somehow, I managed to offend a woman. Let's call her A. Well, I'm sorry she was offended. I can be a bit tactless at times, but hell, I'm over 18 and am allowed to speak without being spoken to now and again. The way to deal with this, is to pointedly talk back at me - so we can work out our differences. But no, she whines to her violent boyfriend, who I've never met, who thinks conflict resolution 101 is to threaten me with a couple of text messages, from her phone.
That's broken our friendship. OK, it wasn't Jake and Elwood, but I would have helped her in any way I could. But now I can't help someone who thinks it's OK to threaten someone via a party I've never met. It's been months now - no apology offered, so there isn't one to accept.
Well, I recently heard she's dropped her hot-headed bf. He was the one with the temper, so now we're in a situation were a perfectly decent women is not friends with a perfectly decent bloke. You do the maths.
Actually I was at Uni, and I knew a couple called Tania and Al. To save their embarrassment I have used their real names - any other combination of names would have chanced upon someone I actually cared about.
Tania was sweet enough, and Al was tolerable in small doses, but Tania was always so unbearably happy and Al was smug in a kind of "I'm getting some" kind of way. Tania had a big smile, and a quick wave. But she never really had any time for me, and guess what, when Al dumped here, I didn't really have much time for her. I'm sure she had good friends, but she would have had another friend if she gave those around her a bit more. It's a case of investing time for the future.
Today, I want to talk about the long game. Everyone is familiar with the syndrome of your mate starting to ignore you once they're in a strongly monogamous relationship. Coffee dates are missed, phone calls and emails go unanswered.
OK - that's human. But it's a story that's often repeated. Somehow, I managed to offend a woman. Let's call her A. Well, I'm sorry she was offended. I can be a bit tactless at times, but hell, I'm over 18 and am allowed to speak without being spoken to now and again. The way to deal with this, is to pointedly talk back at me - so we can work out our differences. But no, she whines to her violent boyfriend, who I've never met, who thinks conflict resolution 101 is to threaten me with a couple of text messages, from her phone.
That's broken our friendship. OK, it wasn't Jake and Elwood, but I would have helped her in any way I could. But now I can't help someone who thinks it's OK to threaten someone via a party I've never met. It's been months now - no apology offered, so there isn't one to accept.
Well, I recently heard she's dropped her hot-headed bf. He was the one with the temper, so now we're in a situation were a perfectly decent women is not friends with a perfectly decent bloke. You do the maths.
Wednesday, 1 October 2008
I've come to work by mistake
Tuesday 23-09-2008: Managed to turn up for work by mistake. Broadly welcomed, but tried to convince my supervisor I was a ghost. Refrained from telling customers to "piss off, I'm on holiday". Told my other employer I was working. A good day for loafing.
Wednesday 24: Burned by a comment Jenny made spent a couple of hours throwing away ex's knickers, during the course of which I find some rather natty cycling shorts and gloves. Evening spent modelling in from of mirror and holding my stomach in.
Thursday 25: Day spent furiously loafing and surfing the web. Within hours I had achieved nothing, and chuffed with the result, over-eat myself to sleep.
Friday 26: Carefully planned, I appear for my feminine job. Wrote a few carefully constructed (aka "copied") scripts for backups. Cute. Writing bash for Macs. Succeeded in getting something working. Big lunch of an hour, pasta, chicken and beer.
Pop home to change and wash then out with them again for some Chinese action. Almost aghast to find this will be a dinner for thirteen. Make a couple of "Judas" gags which I think were missed. Splash water on birthday boy. Explained to him how to drink a flaming sambuca and tequila. One of only a few using chopsticks. I'm surprised so few knew how to order a Chinese meal, even less how to eat it. Predictably I order too much rice and noodles and not enough chicken. Duck was nice though.
Unable to get into The Proverbial in Stevenage because one of our party is wearing trainers. I never wear trainers, except when running. I don't run. Who'd have thought we weren't smart enough for a pub in Stevenage. Went to another pub which would allow us in. I can see why.
Bought double vodkas for Kate and Keely. Surprised they couldn't take them. What's happened to binge Britain when a couple of Stevenage girls can't neck a bit of spirit? I satiate myself with vodka and Czech beer. Keely spends evening trying to persuade a man to drive from Gloucester. "It's my way or the highway". When he refuses, she says "Seeyah".
Cabs to nightclub, Chicago's in Stevenage. Welcome to Hell. Drink. Watch Keely and Kate dance. Once again, Laura's boyfriend unable to join us because he's wearing trainers. Tsk. Surprised Robbie and Kate's boyfriend don't dance. I wonder if Kate and her boyfriend ever have a baby if it will be born fake tanned?
After having a discussion with a man over the price of chewing gum in the gent's toilet managed to get separated from Robbie, Kate and her boyfriend (who doesn't dance, but might work out a bit). Wait outside club until 3:40. Figuring I've lost them, brace myself for a 4 mile walk home.
After 10 minutes, decide to steal a bike. Of course, it would have to be good, not too big and unchained. Within a minute of settling on this, I find the perfect mountain bike outside Betfair.com's HQ. I pick it up. Hold it. Spin the pedals. Perfect. Ah! But this HQ is probably raked by CCTV, and I don't cut a dash in a pale linen jacket with protruding stomach. Not quite Crimewatch, but quite distinctive.
Saturday 27: Bed at 4:30. Wrote a couple of mawkish emails and necked a couple of pints of water. Rose about 6am for a pee. Vertical isn't working very well for me, so sleep for another couple of hours. Course I'll be sober enough to drive.
Uneventful drive to KT1, though it did need a far bit of concentration. Loud Aerosmith helped (cheers Steve!). KT1 at about 11:30 ish in one piece. Fatigue starting to hit. All I can think of is sleep. Perhaps food as well.
Michelle mortified that she's set off the fire alarm, while Jason, mum and I thought it was someone else in the building. Still, two fire engines and 10 fire fighters got to stretch their legs. Response time was rubbish though. We were almost at the first course.
Nice time at Teddington Lock. While others avoiding dog turds, I gave over-detailed directions to a couple of cyclists. No doubt, being men, they'll forget after "take the next right...".
Sunday 28: Mum cooks a modest meal of left overs plus an entire second meal. She never has the problem of cooking for one because, well, she never cooks for one. Before being beached for good, go out for small beer with Dan. We're able to watch Hibs lose on a widescreen, then a couple of minutes at the end we're able to watch then lose on two widescreens and a TV. Dan is well pleased.
Later in Hitchin, ask a barmaid what she would do on her day off. "Go to the Tate". Great that's what I'd do. Leave before it occurs to me that what I should have said was "What are you doing Tuesday?".
Monday 29: Back at the feminine job, but spend most of the time worrying about my car's MOT. £50 or £300. It's like roulette. OK. £300 it is then.
Tuesday 30: Tate. Great. Love the pre-Raphaelites. Waterhouse - love it. Millais - love it. Loved to see Bath of Psyche. Oh! Those Victorians. Saw the runners. Did think they should be running faster and more desperately. Embarrassingly I completely misinterpreted the installation to a couple of staff members. But I'm only an electronic engineer! Saw my favourite Copley piece (The Death of Major Pierson). Somehow it's lost some of its lustre :-(
Baltic. Great. Agnieszka was very friendly, for a Pole. She's got Olive skin, she's about 24, speaks Italian and has, yes, dreadlocks (though tastefully tied up in a scarf). We tasted a few drinks together. She prefers the Cherry vodka, but helpfully pointed out the strawberry is "popular with the ladies". The Baltic Royale is nice too (Strawberry vodka with Champagne). Linda - if you're still awake, I'll take you there. I remember tasting 6 vodkas, so it's likely I had about 12.
Wobbling about I weave through London's weekday rush hour traffic with a smug glow about not being at work.
And so to bed.
Wednesday 24: Burned by a comment Jenny made spent a couple of hours throwing away ex's knickers, during the course of which I find some rather natty cycling shorts and gloves. Evening spent modelling in from of mirror and holding my stomach in.
Thursday 25: Day spent furiously loafing and surfing the web. Within hours I had achieved nothing, and chuffed with the result, over-eat myself to sleep.
Friday 26: Carefully planned, I appear for my feminine job. Wrote a few carefully constructed (aka "copied") scripts for backups. Cute. Writing bash for Macs. Succeeded in getting something working. Big lunch of an hour, pasta, chicken and beer.
Pop home to change and wash then out with them again for some Chinese action. Almost aghast to find this will be a dinner for thirteen. Make a couple of "Judas" gags which I think were missed. Splash water on birthday boy. Explained to him how to drink a flaming sambuca and tequila. One of only a few using chopsticks. I'm surprised so few knew how to order a Chinese meal, even less how to eat it. Predictably I order too much rice and noodles and not enough chicken. Duck was nice though.
Unable to get into The Proverbial in Stevenage because one of our party is wearing trainers. I never wear trainers, except when running. I don't run. Who'd have thought we weren't smart enough for a pub in Stevenage. Went to another pub which would allow us in. I can see why.
Bought double vodkas for Kate and Keely. Surprised they couldn't take them. What's happened to binge Britain when a couple of Stevenage girls can't neck a bit of spirit? I satiate myself with vodka and Czech beer. Keely spends evening trying to persuade a man to drive from Gloucester. "It's my way or the highway". When he refuses, she says "Seeyah".
Cabs to nightclub, Chicago's in Stevenage. Welcome to Hell. Drink. Watch Keely and Kate dance. Once again, Laura's boyfriend unable to join us because he's wearing trainers. Tsk. Surprised Robbie and Kate's boyfriend don't dance. I wonder if Kate and her boyfriend ever have a baby if it will be born fake tanned?
After having a discussion with a man over the price of chewing gum in the gent's toilet managed to get separated from Robbie, Kate and her boyfriend (who doesn't dance, but might work out a bit). Wait outside club until 3:40. Figuring I've lost them, brace myself for a 4 mile walk home.
After 10 minutes, decide to steal a bike. Of course, it would have to be good, not too big and unchained. Within a minute of settling on this, I find the perfect mountain bike outside Betfair.com's HQ. I pick it up. Hold it. Spin the pedals. Perfect. Ah! But this HQ is probably raked by CCTV, and I don't cut a dash in a pale linen jacket with protruding stomach. Not quite Crimewatch, but quite distinctive.
Saturday 27: Bed at 4:30. Wrote a couple of mawkish emails and necked a couple of pints of water. Rose about 6am for a pee. Vertical isn't working very well for me, so sleep for another couple of hours. Course I'll be sober enough to drive.
Uneventful drive to KT1, though it did need a far bit of concentration. Loud Aerosmith helped (cheers Steve!). KT1 at about 11:30 ish in one piece. Fatigue starting to hit. All I can think of is sleep. Perhaps food as well.
Michelle mortified that she's set off the fire alarm, while Jason, mum and I thought it was someone else in the building. Still, two fire engines and 10 fire fighters got to stretch their legs. Response time was rubbish though. We were almost at the first course.
Nice time at Teddington Lock. While others avoiding dog turds, I gave over-detailed directions to a couple of cyclists. No doubt, being men, they'll forget after "take the next right...".
Sunday 28: Mum cooks a modest meal of left overs plus an entire second meal. She never has the problem of cooking for one because, well, she never cooks for one. Before being beached for good, go out for small beer with Dan. We're able to watch Hibs lose on a widescreen, then a couple of minutes at the end we're able to watch then lose on two widescreens and a TV. Dan is well pleased.
Later in Hitchin, ask a barmaid what she would do on her day off. "Go to the Tate". Great that's what I'd do. Leave before it occurs to me that what I should have said was "What are you doing Tuesday?".
Monday 29: Back at the feminine job, but spend most of the time worrying about my car's MOT. £50 or £300. It's like roulette. OK. £300 it is then.
Tuesday 30: Tate. Great. Love the pre-Raphaelites. Waterhouse - love it. Millais - love it. Loved to see Bath of Psyche. Oh! Those Victorians. Saw the runners. Did think they should be running faster and more desperately. Embarrassingly I completely misinterpreted the installation to a couple of staff members. But I'm only an electronic engineer! Saw my favourite Copley piece (The Death of Major Pierson). Somehow it's lost some of its lustre :-(
Baltic. Great. Agnieszka was very friendly, for a Pole. She's got Olive skin, she's about 24, speaks Italian and has, yes, dreadlocks (though tastefully tied up in a scarf). We tasted a few drinks together. She prefers the Cherry vodka, but helpfully pointed out the strawberry is "popular with the ladies". The Baltic Royale is nice too (Strawberry vodka with Champagne). Linda - if you're still awake, I'll take you there. I remember tasting 6 vodkas, so it's likely I had about 12.
Wobbling about I weave through London's weekday rush hour traffic with a smug glow about not being at work.
And so to bed.
Friday, 25 July 2008
A bit fuzzy
I work "in computers". I'm not a programmer, and I'm not an IT planner manager type of thing. I work on a support desk, and before you say it I don't tell people to switch it off and on again all day.
In fact, if you ask my friends along the way, a number of them will have said that I've been "in computers" for quite a long time. This kind of annoys me, because I've done a lot of things besides, and in fact I spent quite a time "in electronics" but since people understand electronics even less than they understand computers, I've lost the energy to correct them. I'd like to have been a "boffin", but truthfully I was never good enough. In fact I haven't really been "in computers" for very long. Some boys have been into Barbie longer that I've been into computers.
Do you like exams? For a certain type of person they have an appeal. Most of the time the answers are right or wrong, particularly it seems in science subjects, mostly at the junior level. It's quite attractive, isn't it? Just learn the right answers, learn the equations, theorems and limited scenarios and by your early 20s you can have a degree.
From the outside, it can appear that computer people just know a string of right answers to fixed questions, like a big lifelong exam. The boring bit is learning a huge number of questions and answers, but once you have "you too can have a career in IT". There's a few ads on the telly about this at the moment. Apparently if you can pass their simple test, a career in IT awaits you.
Er, no. Firstly, I still think computers are quite hard. There's so much to know and learn. Secondly, it's not quite as binary as I'd like. Often there isn't a right answer. What works today, will not work in a few years time (Millennium bug anyone?). What works for one customer won't work for another. What's cheap for me is really expensive for you. What's easy for me to understand is impossible for your staff to grasp. You too can have a career in IT, but expect long hours and your skills to have a shelf life shorter than a Sainsbury's value banana.
It's ironic that for many years (since I was about eight as I recall) I've been taught about the binary numbering system, and how it's the cornerstone of computing, but actually there couldn't be anything less binary than the computer biz, in all its shapes and angles. I'll give you an example - you can't even predict exactly how long your PC is going to take to start up Word after you click the icon. Actually, you can't even predict how many Word icons there are on an average PC...
So next time someone says they're "in computers", it's not just about a long list of questions with fixed answers. It's a job like any other - unpredictable, stressful, fun and frustrating. You can be bored if you like, computers can be pretty dull, but so can midwifery. Oh, and sometimes the best thing is to turn them off.
In fact, if you ask my friends along the way, a number of them will have said that I've been "in computers" for quite a long time. This kind of annoys me, because I've done a lot of things besides, and in fact I spent quite a time "in electronics" but since people understand electronics even less than they understand computers, I've lost the energy to correct them. I'd like to have been a "boffin", but truthfully I was never good enough. In fact I haven't really been "in computers" for very long. Some boys have been into Barbie longer that I've been into computers.
Do you like exams? For a certain type of person they have an appeal. Most of the time the answers are right or wrong, particularly it seems in science subjects, mostly at the junior level. It's quite attractive, isn't it? Just learn the right answers, learn the equations, theorems and limited scenarios and by your early 20s you can have a degree.
From the outside, it can appear that computer people just know a string of right answers to fixed questions, like a big lifelong exam. The boring bit is learning a huge number of questions and answers, but once you have "you too can have a career in IT". There's a few ads on the telly about this at the moment. Apparently if you can pass their simple test, a career in IT awaits you.
Er, no. Firstly, I still think computers are quite hard. There's so much to know and learn. Secondly, it's not quite as binary as I'd like. Often there isn't a right answer. What works today, will not work in a few years time (Millennium bug anyone?). What works for one customer won't work for another. What's cheap for me is really expensive for you. What's easy for me to understand is impossible for your staff to grasp. You too can have a career in IT, but expect long hours and your skills to have a shelf life shorter than a Sainsbury's value banana.
It's ironic that for many years (since I was about eight as I recall) I've been taught about the binary numbering system, and how it's the cornerstone of computing, but actually there couldn't be anything less binary than the computer biz, in all its shapes and angles. I'll give you an example - you can't even predict exactly how long your PC is going to take to start up Word after you click the icon. Actually, you can't even predict how many Word icons there are on an average PC...
So next time someone says they're "in computers", it's not just about a long list of questions with fixed answers. It's a job like any other - unpredictable, stressful, fun and frustrating. You can be bored if you like, computers can be pretty dull, but so can midwifery. Oh, and sometimes the best thing is to turn them off.
Saturday, 28 June 2008
Badge of Honour
Do you watch Eastenders? Do you think it's an accurate portrayal of working class life in an east London suburb?
I didn't think so. It's about as realistic as the Good Life's portrayal of Surbiton. Oo - that ages me. Perhaps you can work out how old I am now.
I was in a local pub. If you must know I was in one of two boozers. Over the road is a comfy place. It does nice food during the week, and the people who drink there tend to pick up their aitches.
No, I was in the A. over the road. The A. has a nice touch in exterior decor. I think it's dirty yellow at the moment. Presumably the previous battleship grey reminded the clientèle of something more institutional. Personally I think it was a cheap deal from an MOD supplier.
If you want a glimpse into working class life, put your snout into someone else's trough. Take a visit to the A. There's one near you. Eff and Jeff are frequent visitors.
Tonight I heard and saw something I'm surprised I haven't seen before. A tall man, loud, came into the pub pointing at his ankle. In a couple of minutes I'd worked out (he's loud, remember) that he's had his tag removed. Three months apparently. Oh, and apparently "it's bollocks" and "he won't do it again". Charmingly he embraced one of the bigger issues of crime and punishment. Deterrence and protection. That's what we bought and paid for.
I don't know about you, but if I had a conviction, I'm be ashamed. I'd want to forget and move onwards and upwards. I speak from experience. I've done a couple of things I'm not proud of and ended up in court. I'm dissuaded from doing the same again.
I'd discuss what I'd done with friends, but not likely with you, dear reader. For as you pass the time of day pretending to work, you are not exactly relationship building are you? Harsh, but true. Tell you what: write your own blog, and then we might have a relationship.
Morality aside, this young man's interjection over my pint of lager brought colour to my evening. Banter. We need more banter, it's a laugh discussing your recent brush with the law.
Just don't expect me to reciprocate.
I didn't think so. It's about as realistic as the Good Life's portrayal of Surbiton. Oo - that ages me. Perhaps you can work out how old I am now.
I was in a local pub. If you must know I was in one of two boozers. Over the road is a comfy place. It does nice food during the week, and the people who drink there tend to pick up their aitches.
No, I was in the A. over the road. The A. has a nice touch in exterior decor. I think it's dirty yellow at the moment. Presumably the previous battleship grey reminded the clientèle of something more institutional. Personally I think it was a cheap deal from an MOD supplier.
If you want a glimpse into working class life, put your snout into someone else's trough. Take a visit to the A. There's one near you. Eff and Jeff are frequent visitors.
Tonight I heard and saw something I'm surprised I haven't seen before. A tall man, loud, came into the pub pointing at his ankle. In a couple of minutes I'd worked out (he's loud, remember) that he's had his tag removed. Three months apparently. Oh, and apparently "it's bollocks" and "he won't do it again". Charmingly he embraced one of the bigger issues of crime and punishment. Deterrence and protection. That's what we bought and paid for.
I don't know about you, but if I had a conviction, I'm be ashamed. I'd want to forget and move onwards and upwards. I speak from experience. I've done a couple of things I'm not proud of and ended up in court. I'm dissuaded from doing the same again.
I'd discuss what I'd done with friends, but not likely with you, dear reader. For as you pass the time of day pretending to work, you are not exactly relationship building are you? Harsh, but true. Tell you what: write your own blog, and then we might have a relationship.
Morality aside, this young man's interjection over my pint of lager brought colour to my evening. Banter. We need more banter, it's a laugh discussing your recent brush with the law.
Just don't expect me to reciprocate.
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