Pynchon

Monday through Wednesday, there just didn't seem to be enough time.

Monday - Got up, washed, went to work, came home, chores, watched "Bobby", blogged, went to bed.

Tuesday - Got up, washed, went to work, came home, chores, watched "C.S.I. Crime Scene Investigation", listened to music, went to bed.

Wednesday - Got up, washed, went to work, came home, chores, watched "Torchwood", blogging now, will soon go to bed.

I have two reviews that I want to write ("The Savages" and "In The Valley Of Elah"). I want to write them, but am finding it difficult to collect my thoughts sufficiently so that I can write something more than incisive than "they are fucking great films!". It will come, eventually. It always does.

Oh, yes... On Friday evening I did a single line post here. (Thank you Rod Serling.) Have a go, if you like. It is a good exercise in brevity.

Should be time tomorrow.

Labels: Time

"Here we are now"
"Entertain us"

Er... Not tonight, Josephine.

Labels: Time

The plan.

Friday night. We chill. No panic, no hassle, no stress. We watch TV, we do nothing.

Saturday morning. I lay out the stuff I want to take to Nottingham and Lorraine packs them into a small travelling case along with the stuff she wants to take. We leave the house at 9:40 precisely. We catch the bus. We catch the train. We arrive in Nottingham. We visit Lorraine's appalling millionairess friend and have lunch. (Hey, it kills the time until we can book into the hotel.) We have the craic.

The reality.

Friday night. Actually pretty good. We watched a couple of episodes of series 1 "Scrubs" (the first appearance of Jordan - what a woman!). I did the washing up. I surfed the net and posted on the blog. Lorraine went to bed. I watched "The IT Crowd" and had a wank to the Adult Channel 10 minute freeview.

Saturday. I am up early. I shower. I lay my stuff out on the bed. Lorraine gets up, scowls at me, goes downstairs and...

She is on the laptop downstairs playing Solitaire. She has been playing Solitaire for an hour or so.

She has packed nothing.

We leave the house in 1 hour and 7 minutes.

I'm just going to kick her up the arse. I may see some of you later. Or I may not.

Labels: Lorraine, Time

It has been a bit of a disappointing week, blogwise, but I don't suppose every week can be a maelstrom of activity, now can it? Anyway, I couldn't be particularly arsed. I had, as Lorraine so succinctly puts it, "One on me".

Still, I have not exactly sat staring at the wall doing nothing.

This week I have...

1. Watched television.

Over the past month, BBC 3 have been repeating all of the recent "Doctor Who" series and specials, from Christopher Ecclestone to David Tennant. I have not watched them all of the repeats religiously, but I must say that what I have watched again, I have really enjoyed.

This week the climax of series 3 finally arrived with appearances of Derek Jacobi as Professor Yana and John Simm as Mr. Saxon. I really hope that one of those actors reappears in the next series. UK viewers will know which one I mean. I thought he was over the top and insane and cruel and just marvellous. (No spoilers for foreign friends who are still watching "Doctor Who". I believe that abroad the latest series is still being broadcast.)

I've also been watching "Heroes" on BBC2 (we have just reached the "Six Months Ago" story) which I am really enjoying. Last night I watched "Fonejacker" (never seen it before) and I laughed like a hyena and "Dog Face" (ditto) that was kind of terrible, but it had some moments.

2. Read books.

I have finished "The Blind Assassin" by Margaret Atwood, which I thought was really good. A really engrossing read. I think it is the first Booker Prize winner that I have ever read. Maybe I will dig out a few more of them.

I am now halfway through reading "Making History" by Stephen Fry, about which I have mixed feelings.

"Making History" is quite obviously a Stephen Fry book (he always uses 3 words when he could quite easily get away with 1.) It has (I think, but I may be wrong) a bit of gay subtext that is about to come to the fore. It has got the most obvious Time Travel plot of all time, which would normally have been rejected by anybody who has read any Science Fiction as being total cliche from start to end. It ignores the whole principle of time paradoxes. It contains lazy passages where, I feel, Mr. Fry just couldn't be bothered to write it properly.

(So you are not enjoying it then, John?)

Au contraire! "Making History" satisfies the only requirement of a book and that is to keep you turning the pages because you want to see what happens next.

3. Working.

After the release of the new organisation chart (on which I am positioned just above the guy who cleans the toilets) the new M.D. deemed to pay us a visit to do a morale boosting presentation to the troops. I thought that Max Headroom had disappeared many years ago, but obviously I was wrong.

Max was blonde and blue eyed. Slick hair. Nice suit. He spoke well, I'll give him that, but his spiel was so full of little jokes and, aww shucks, self depreciating, I'm-just-like-you modest sentiments about himself and his role in The Corporation, that I wish I had had a grenade to toss into the centre of the room to end it all.

Suit. Salesman. Shark. Nazi youth Conservative poster boy. Tosser. Cunt.

Of course at the end everybody clapped like seals, including Lorraine who was sitting next to me. I sat on my hands, fingering my crack (the highlight of my day) and scowled. Lorraine told me to "Stop it".

4. Told Lorraine that she looked great.

Lorraine had her hair done last night. She was due to have her hair done on Sunday, but we will be travelling back from Nottingham. I compared Lorraine favourably to Vanessa Feltz. It didn't go down well. (How was I to know?)

5. Got better.

The dizziness stopped once the earache started. Maybe it was something to do with my inner ear? The earache has also stopped.

We are in Nottingham tomorrow at the social event of the year. (Informal, thank God! I have not worn by wicked blue suit since 2004. I doubt at this moment in time that I would be able to navigate my belly into the trousers. I would be fucked if I really had to dress up for a bit of a do.) Maybe we will see some of you there. If not, I will be back on Sunday.

Labels: Reading, Television, The Corporation, Time

There is a certain amount of slippage in my life at the moment. There is a constant failure to meet the deadlines that I set for myself. I am getting into the regular habit of breaking promises. Time is out of whack.

It is Wednesday. How is it Wednesday? Where has the time gone? If it wasn't so stupid I would say that my personal elapsed time has gone out of sync with actual elapsed time. The memories of London and the weekend are already fading, which kind of contradicts the above, but hey, don't come here for logical thought.

I had planned to do a stack of writing tonight, but things have got in the way. (Lorraine claims not to be well, which is an early warning sign that we will probably not be going out to eat tomorrow evening. I was not gracious about it and the... ahem... discussion went on for a little while. Then, after Lorraine had stropped off the bed, I watched "Heroes".)

I am very tired. Some of it must have been the alcohol I had last night with Graham after the film. (By the way, Graham, a good night, I thought.) I suffered this morning because of it. It's kind of farcical. I only had two bottles of Corona and a bottle of water; plus, when I got home, I had a banana and a pint of water, which normally kills any hangover dead, but not this time. I have noticed recently that my alcohol tolerance is disappearing. All for the good, I suppose.

All is fine. All is well. I just need to rest. I really will be back tomorrow.

Labels: Thoughts, Time

Me again.

As you have probably gathered, nothing of consequence is going to be written tonight. I have spent the last hour booking a train ticket for Lorraine, who (as normal) wanted to know every variation of times, connections and journey, before she made up her mind as to what she wanted. I shouldn't moan. If I was doing it for me, I would probably be just as picky.

It's not a trip that Lorraine wants to make, but needs must. One of her elderly relatives has had a bad fall and is in hospital, and Lorraine wants to show 'support' to his missus; her cousin. I'm a bit pissed off that Lorraine is going to be away this weekend, simply because we had intended to have a night out and see "Ocean's Thirteen", but I would be a shit if I objected to her not being here, wouldn't I?

So, I'll just do a quick list to whet your appetite about some things I want to write about.

1. "Captivity".
2. "Like Minds".
3. A lady showing her breasts in the restaurant at the Midlands Art Centre.
4. Skinny squirrels.
5. The Alfred Hitchcock DVD box set.
6. "Grow Up" by Keith Allen.
7. My Mom's solution to the Lorraine-and-Pynchon-do-not-fuck-anymore situation.
8. "Doctor Who".
9. Floods.
10. My Brother getting barred from Reflex.
11. Ginger Foghorn.

Can't wait!

Labels: Lorraine, Time

This evening I have been a bit defeated by the speed of the Internet connection, and the fact that I didn't get here until 10pm, so I'll admit defeat for the moment.

Thoughts on Eurovision will follow.

... But not tomorrow, because Lorraine and I will be going to rock with Meatloaf at the NEC.

Back sometime on Thursday.

Labels: Time

I saw "Sunshine". No time now. Back tomorrow.

Labels: Movies, Time

It's Thursday evening and I am about to write about things that I went to see last Saturday and Sunday. This is not organised. I'm not too sure where the week went to.

Saturday evening we went to see Mark Little in the one man play "Defending The Caveman" at the Alexander Theatre.



It's a comedy lecture about the differences between the sexes, and about how those differences cause men (and women, hah!) all sorts of problems. Nothing really all that radical in the play (basically men and women are different species and will never understand each other), but it was still really, really funny. Packed theatre as well, which was good to see.

Lorraine and I have Mark Little onstage twice before. The first time was years ago at the Midlands Art Centre when he was doing stand up comedy. The second time was when he played Leigh Bowery in the touring version of the Boy George musical "Taboo" at the Birmingham Hippodrome. Totally different productions, but both times he was excellent.

If all you know him for is as Joe Mangel in "Neighbours", or as the guy who replaced Chris Evans on "The Big Breakfast", don't be put off. Mark Little is a brilliant and effortless stage performer. Very enthusiastic, very energetic, very funny. He is a brilliant ad libber and "Defending The Caveman" allowed plenty of opportunity for that.

As of today's date the tour still has 6 dates to go. Well worth a trip to the theatre. A good night out.

On Sunday I went to see "The Good German".



I was going to say that "The Good German" is very much a curio for the director Steven Soderbergh, but to say that would have been utter nonsense because his entire career has been varied, unpredictable and contrary. And mostly good.

"The Good German" is a WWII thriller/melodrama with a twist in that it is shot in nearly exactly the same style as a film made in the 1940's. (I say nearly exactly, because the sex, violence and language would definitely have been nixed by the movie guardians at the time.) So, you get beautiful black and white photography, an overblown strings and horn soundtrack, typical, almost clunky stock footage of the Berlin of the time, back projection when characters are travelling in cars, etc.

... And it looks absolutely wonderful. A real triumph of the cinematographer's art. It really looks like a movie transported from the 1940's. It was a stroke of genius casting George Clooney and Cate Blanchett because Clooney looks like a 40's matinee idol and Blanchett looks like a 40's femme fatale. Strong performances by them both, as well as Tobey Maguire who is truly sneaky and loathsome (think Robert Walker in "Strangers On A Train").

But... "The Good German" is not an engaging film. Boring? No, maybe that's not the right word, but it didn't grab me. Maybe it was because, except for the Barman, there was not one sympathetic character in the entire movie. Blanchett's character is so cold, so distant, so aloof, that I couldn't get a handle on why Clooney's character was so obsessed with her. If there had been hints of warmth under that exterior I would have felt differently.

After several weeks I have finally finished "The Dark Tower V: Wolves Of The Calla" by Stephen King.

I have mixed feelings about it. Some of it is so brilliant that it burns like the sun. Other bits, well, go on a bit. The one thing you can never accuse Stephen King recently of is brevity. I did feel as though a shorter book might have been more effective. Good yarn, though. I will probably start "The Dark Tower VI: Song Of Susannah" in a couple of months.

Next up, "Fast Food Nation" by Eric Schlosser. I've been wanting to read it for ages. I heard recently that the Richard Linklater movie adaptation is out in this country next month, so it's the right time to start it.

Mark has left me some questions to answer. Difficult questions, truth be told. I need to consider my answers.

"Shallow Grave" is on in 30 minutes or so. I haven't watched that in years. A nice bit of Danny Boyle to set me up for "Sunshine" tomorrow.

Have a nice Easter, people.

Labels: Movies, Plays, Time

I really shouldn't make statements about when I will be blogging, and on what subject, because inevitably something always gets in the way and I end up letting myself down. Yesterday was a moot point.

Morning. I arrived early at Gay Tarquin's Hairdressing Emporium. I am the only man who frequents the establishment on a Sunday and I think that Gay Tarquin appreciates the eye candy (Me!). He's a nice guy. I like having my hair cut on a Sunday. I'm in and I'm out. Ooooh, err...

This time I had my hair cut by a lovely girl I had never seen before. Said lady didn't look a day over 10 years old, so it was very disconcerting when she started talking about her 6 month old baby. OK, then... She did a good job, though. It's probably the shortest I have ever had my hair. I look like Ray Winstone in that film "The Final Cut", but obviously sexier.

Afternoon. Went to see "Babel". More about that in a bit.

Evening. Purchased a Chinese takeaway, because neither myself nor Lorraine could be bothered to cook. Announced that I would give her the pleasure of my company for the first half an hour of "Starman", that was showing on Sky Cinema, and that then I would have to depart to write deep and important things on the blog. Of course I ended up watching the whole of "Starman", then the first hour of "Big Trouble In Little China" and then the double bill of "24".

By that time it was 11pm and I was knackered. Too late to blog or do anything. I went to bed.

TV. The opium of the masses. I don't know who said that, but they were right.

On Saturday I went to see "Notes On A Scandal".



Oh, yes... I did enjoy "Notes On A Scandal". It is very really black, very funny and sometimes over the top. Neither Judi Dench's or Cate Blanchett's characters are sympathetic (they both deserve what they get), although Bill Nighy, who is given little to do, is kind of saintly. It's a quite nasty and bitter film, but I really thought that "Notes On A Scandal" was wonderful and hilarious.

Was that the correct reaction? I really couldn't say. I suppose that as much as you try to avoid it, all of us take our cues from the audience that surrounds us. On Saturday the laughter started from a middle aged couple a few seats away from me. I joined in, so did others, and it carried on from there.

I've read a couple of mixed reviews and it seems that the critics were taking "Notes On A Scandal" all very seriously. They were surprised by the ambivalent tone and the fact that Judi Dench was playing such a horrible cow, but Judi Dench has often played horrible cow's. I'll include in that list her parts in "Mrs. Brown", "Shakespeare In Love", "Pride And Prejudice" and "The Importance Of Being Ernest". All cows and all horrible!

Great film. Really enjoyable.

On Sunday I went to see "Babel". It couldn't be more different from "Notes On A Scandal".



Four stories interlinked, different time frames, different settings. The stories are linked in ways that we can only guess at.

Two young boys play with a gun. A bickering American couple experience a crisis on a bus tour of Morocco. A Mexican woman attends the wedding of her son. A Japanese schoolgirl is desperate to lose her virginity.

Director Alejandro González Iñárritu has done this kind of multi-linked, multi-character drama before with "Amores Perros" (which I liked a lot) and "21 Grams" (which I didn't). I think that "Amores Perros" is probably a better movie than "Babel", but "Babel" does have a lot to recommend it.

It's hard going at times, and mostly very serious, but it's also beautifully constructed and very moving, especially in the Japanese sections. Great performances by Rinko Kikuchi, Adriana Barraza and (surprise?) Brad Pitt. In fact, I think that this is probably Brad's best performance since "Fight Club" and the first film that I have seen him in recently in which he looks his age. (He's 43. A couple of months younger than me. 1963 was a very good year...)

I did like "Babel" . Stef didn't. Stef said that he didn't care less about any of the characters. I did. I am right and he is wrong, so there! (Blows raspberry.)

"Babel" is not blockbuster fodder. It should be seen.

Lorraine is going away tomorrow to stay with her Brother. To cut a long story short, Lorraine's Brother's missus gave birth to her second set of twins a couple of weeks ago. Initially things were OK, but the twins were taken to hospital yesterday with some kind of virus. Certainly not life threatening, but bad enough for them to be kept in hospital. Their Mom is going to stay with them, so Lorraine offered to help as she had annual leave left over that had to be taken.

Lorraine will love it. Looking after children. The one thing that she really wanted in her life. The one thing that I never wanted to give her. The thing that started the whole of this sex business mess off.

Lorraine and I get on fine. We share this house. We share everything, except for a bed. There has been no comment about the fact that I am now in the front bedroom; no comment at all except for the bland, "It's time you changed your sheets" or "Don't forget to close your windows". It's as if we have slipped into just being housemates and everything that went on before her hysterectomy has been forgotten.

Perhaps I should just call a stop to this now?

No, I won't. Why? Because I love her and I have a pathetic hope that in the future we will somehow get back to how we were. We should talk, but talking only turns into an argument. I am really at a loss what to do. I think that this could carry on for years if I let it.

I will be alone tomorrow, but I am alone when Lorraine is here.

Not the time to think about it now. Bed time.

Labels: Lorraine, Movies, Sex, Time

You'll forgive me if I write nothing of any consequence this evening.

I forgot that I was going to be late home from work due to the external staff seminar, and that the shopping was going to be delivered this evening, and that the new series of "CSI: Crime Scene Investigation" was going to start with a double bill.

What's a boy to do? No time.

I shouldn't even be here. I need my beauty sleep.

Labels: Television, Time, Work