Tuesday, December 28, 2010

Facebook, Twitter and Dunbar's Number.


I hope you all had a good Christmas; I also hope you had a good Hanukkah and, if it apples to you, you are having a good Kwanzaa – which doesn't end till Saturday.

There we are that saves me saying a happy holiday which has become fashionable and a pain in the arse. The three holidays don't quite coincide like everybody having the same day to celebrate as with Thanksgiving; it's a pity they don't have Thanksgiving in the UK as it's not a religious thing and in a secular country like Britain it seems more fitting – but Christmas there is a mostly a secular holiday in any case so why bother?

It's also quite ironic that a country like Britain, who yearn for the picturesque White Christmas every year, were snowed in before Christmas but the snow disappeared on Christmas Day in most of the country.

I was looking at all the Facebook photos and videos of snow. I know we can see it on the news and other parts of the Internet but seeing it on Facebook kind if made it more personal.

A lot of people criticise Facebook and its kind of control over many people's lives and how they make friends on Facebook whom they never meet.

Well the term friend on Facebook and the saying friending is just what it is – a term. What it really means is that you are a reader; just like a follower or friend of The New York Times or The Guardian.

It's the same with Twitter; this isn't some kind of strange place to go to and find out if your friend has just used their bowels or is taking a cup of coffee – or even both at the same time and from what I've heard people do that!

I use Facebook sometimes as it's very useful to see our children's photos when we are so far apart and I use Twitter.

I use Twitter far more than Facebook as I am interested in the news. I follow The Guardian, CNN, The Huffington Post and various other people from whom I get information.

I also have this blog posted on Twitter and I can see that it pays off with lots of hits; yes I can see, from my STAT Counter where all the hits come from.

I follow Stephen Fry who has a few million followers and Miss Daisy Frost – who also follows me on Twitter and is a friend on Facebook – who is, or purports to be a junior literary agent and is a gal about town in London. I don't expect to meet any of them but I like the quick quips, the news and articles I am drawn to and do you know how long I spend on Twitter? 5 minutes a day.

But Twitter and Facebook – or the idea of them – is nothing new.

News sheets appeared on walls and trees in towns and villages of old; the court would issue circulars for the plebs to read – well now the plebs write their own news. The clever newspapers told us very cleverly what to read and now the people are writing their own news and if it says that the news is they are taking a shit so what? – it's news to their friends and my friends don't tell me that; not yet anyway.

People have maybe hundreds of friends on Facebook and an interesting thing to me is the amount of friends they have.

Movie stars have millions of friends and followers on Facebook and Twitter and the likes of you and me have far less; but those numbers are very interesting.

If you don't know what it is let me introduce you to Dunbar's Number.

Dunbar's number is the number of people that you can, realistically, keep in touch with; any more than this number would need some kind of organising; what would that number be? According to Professor Robin Dunbar, an anthropologist who worked this out, it is between 100 and 230 but a commonly used value is 150.

Also, according to some research, numbers larger than this would need rules or even laws to maintain a stable group.

There are lesser numbers but nobody has given them a name yet but they are easy to work out; I was going to call them Sullivan numbers but won't be so egotistical and in any case I'll give them the names they have always been called later; they would be the numbers for the amount of immediate friends you can easily deal with – shall we say about 10.

These 10 friends would be your best friends – you may even have one of these as a best friend – a BFF as they are called now. Personally I have never had one best friend; always a few best friends.

Then there are your extended friends – shall we say about 20 - 30; these will be the people you may meet or work with most days of the week; people you know well enough to have a chat with if you meet them.

The next figure would be close to Dunbar's number – 120; these could be the people who work at the same place you do – the workplace whatever that may be - and whom you would just say hello to if you met them.

So we have your 10 friends, which we will now call a squad; your 30 friends, which we will call a platoon, and your 120 Dunbar number friends which we will call a company or a troop.

So these magic figures, which have always been with us as squad, platoon and company, are all military words and put together they form a battalion; 2 or more battalions form a regiment and loads of those form a whole army.

So people on Facebook can put themselves in those categories and Mark Whatshisname commands more than an army – he commands a nation.

So instead of the Marxist doctrine of workers of the world unite it's Facebook of the World – who have already united to make Facebook what it is today - a monstrance to it's founder . . . .

Of course – as I have said before 'What do I know?'

Happy New Year!



Friday, December 24, 2010

Happy Christmas.

Not a full post today just Happy Christmas and here is the lyric to my favourite Christmas song Fairytale of New York – not to be confused with the JP Donleavy classic novel A Fairy Tale of New York.
This is by Shane MacGowan of The Pogues and the words were slightly altered here to the ones by Christy Moore in his version – which I prefer.
I love the lyrics to this and it reads just as well without the music. To me the imagery is magic.
Fairytale of New York
It was Christmas eve babe
In the drunk tank
An old man said son: I won't see another one
And then he sang a song
The Rare old Mountain Dew
I turned my eyes away and thought about you
Got on a lucky one
Came in eighteen to one
I've got a feeling
This year's for me and you
So Happy Christmas
I love you baby
There's gonna be good times
When all our dreams come true.

They got cars big as bars
They got rivers of gold
But the wind goes right through you
It's no place for the old
When I first took your hand on that cold Christmas eve
Hope I told you that Broadway was waiting for me
You were handsome and pretty
Queen of New york city when the band finished playing the crowd howled for more
Sinatra was singing all the crowd they were swinging
Oh we kissed on a corner
Then danced round the floor.

And the boys from the NYPD Choir were singing Galway Bay
And the bells were ringing out for Christmas day.
I could have been someone
Well so could anyone
I took my dreams from me
When I first met you
I kept them with me babe
I put them with my own
Can't make it all alone
I've built my dreams around you
You're a bum you´re a punk
You're an old whore on junk
Lying there on the drip nearly dead in the bed
You scumbag you maggot
You cheap lousy faggot
Happy Christmas my arse – oh I'd rather be dead.

And the boys from the NYPD Choir were singing Galway Bay
And the bells were ringing out for Christmas day.

And the boys from the New York Police Choir were singing Galway Bay
And the bells were ringing out for Christmas day.
Happy Christmas - Chris x x

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Javier Barden and The Golden Globes.

There he is above: Javier Barden.

Reputedly the new Marlon Brando or more likely the one and only Javier Barden – he's Spanish and it's a Spanish name so the 'J' becomes an aitch so it should sound like Havier!!

Whether you think he's the greatest actor since sliced bread, you've never heard of him or you think he sucks he has, apparently, turned in yet another breathtaking performance in his latest movie Biutiful which has been described as heart wrenching.

So you would think that Señor Barden might be nominated for a Golden Globe?

Not a chance!

Johnny Depp has been nominated for two films that he is in; I have nothing against Johnny Depp but one of the films, The Tourist, in which he starred with Angelina Jole took one of the worst panning by major critics than any film in recent memory.

In fact I have heard that when Angelina Jole was told the film had been nominated and so had she as well as Johnny Depp she burst out laughing.

When you see that people or movies have been nominated for a Golden Globe or that they have won a Golden Globe you will know that it means diddly squat.

So what are The Golden Globes? Well they are organised by The Foreign Press who consist of eighty one journalists who live here and write reviews for their newspapers and magazines that are published in their native countries; they nominate and choose the winners – the SAG Awards and The Academy Awards are chosen by many thousands of people who usually work in the business.

Someone was at a party last week and was introduced to a member of The Foreign Press and as soon as this person was introduced The Foreign Press member blurted out 'but I didn't vote for The Tourist!'

Now to say one award is better than another award is accepting that awards are important and not just publicity stunts but I am saying in the scheme of things these latest nominatios make The Golden Globes look like a joke. People here have always treated them like a joke and not to be taken seriously but in nominating Johnny Depp and Angelina Jole The Foreign Press are presuming that they will attend the awards ceremony which goes out live on television here. In fact that's all it is – a television show.

The Golden Globes has a reputation of being the best party in town so that usually guarantees a good attendance.

Ricky Gervais is introducing the show again this year, I believe, and will probably send the whole thing up the way he did last year.

One of the things all the winners have to do when receiving their award is to thank The Foreign Press – give me a break!

Friday, December 17, 2010

Filibuster and this and that.


So what have I been doing? Well lately I've been a bit busy; I helped my pal, who has written a really good script, to organise a table read (read through) for a film we hope to make in the new year.

It's about three fellas, who used to be in a garage band, who kidnap their rock'n'roll idol and I play that idol. Now that is an unusual thing for me as most of the time I am idle!!

The way I helped him was to organise the casting as I knew the secrets to the Black Magic Box – that box being the web site for casting, here in LA, called NowCasting.

So all of you out there – wish us luck!!

My first novel is on Audible.com and I am in the process of narrating my second one.

This is about two girls and I toyed with the idea of using a female to record it for me but eventually decided to do it myself. There were female voices in the first novel so why not do it myself – and in any case I'm cheap.

Of course I am only presuming that Audible will want it as the first novel didn't exactly sell a lot – it sold some and I get royalty cheques every few months – but I am soldering on with it.I record it here in our apartment where I recorded my Irish CDs and other songs and it's ideal.

At the moment I am finishing writing the final draft and today I am as far as chapter twenty seven – in the writing. I had to take the day off recording as I was catching up with myself – what do I mean?

I mean I had only written the final draft up to chapter twenty one up to yesterday and the last recording I got as far as chapter twenty.

It was a bit like being on You Tube watching a big download and watching the progress at the bottom of where you are in your listening catching up with what has been downloaded; well I know what I'm saying!!

When I recorded the last novel I was reading from printed paper in a tiny space so I would make a noise changing pages. At first I tried to do it very quietly but no matter how quiet I tried to be I could hear it on the playback; so in the end I would pause, change the page as noisily as I wanted, then edit that bit out later.

This time I am reading it all from the computer screen and don't have that problem; also I am editing at the end of each chapter. I was hoping to be finished by Christmas but I don't think so.

The next stage will be to master the whole things - making sure all the levels are the same; I don't want some chapters loud and some soft - and it's not as easy as it sounds.

Changing subjects: I wrote a post on here about Julian Assange and the Wiki Leaks last week or so and that seems to be extremely popular. So popular, fact, that it has overwhelmed my stat counter. At the moment that particular post is getting over 600 hits per day.

It means I can't look to see if my brother has looked at the blog from Azerbaijan or that my cousin in Dublin is looking at it or my children in the UK as I have to plow through the 600 odd hits about Julian Assange; maybe just mentioning his name will draw many hits again for this but I'll take that chance.

Now do people in the rest of the world know what a filibuster is? Here's the dictionary definition: A filibuster (also known as talking out a bill) is a type of parliamentary procedure. Specifically, it is a form of obstruction in a legislature or other decision-making body whereby a lone member can elect to delay or entirely prevent a vote on a proposal.

In other words if you don't want a bill to pass through the senate you get up and talk all day till there's no time left for the bill. James Stewart did it in one of his films, Mister Smith Goes To Washington when he talks to stop a bill going through.

I don't know if the filibuster is used in other countries but even the threat of it here is enough to stop bills going through – on the one hand this country has the originality of the stuff that comes out of Silicon Valley and the total stubbornness of the filibuster.

Obama had a filibuster proof majority when he was elected but when Ted Kennedy died his senate seat went to a Republican so Obama lost that majority; and that's why he's in trouble and has had to compromise on everything since; including the tax bill yesterday.

They filibuster because they don't believe in the bill or parts of the bill but let me point something out to you:

The Senate, in the form of the Republicans, stopped the passage of a bill that would provide billions of dollars in health care for sick 9/11 first responders. These were the cops, firemen and the like who went into the Twin Towers first and stayed there for months clearing the way and finding bodies; a lot of them, because of the conditions they were in, suffered many diseases such as Cancer, Mesothelioma and other serious ailments and a Republican Senator got up and blocked that bill.

I urge you to watch the following. It's Jon Stewart; why do we have to have comedy shows pointing these things out to us?

The Daily Show With Jon StewartMon - Thurs 11p / 10c
9/11 First Responders React to the Senate Filibuster
www.thedailyshow.com
Daily Show Full EpisodesPolitical Humor & Satire Blog</a>The Daily Show on Facebook

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

Drama School.


I mentioned in my last post that I was at drama school for three years which prompted a couple of e-mails asking me what we did there; well we had the time of our lives.

It wasn't the most wonderful three years in my life, as it was to some, but it came close; it meant a great deal to one or two people there who went into a depression upon leaving and I think one girl even tried to commit suicide; fortunately she was unsuccessful.

I had been working on the motor bikes at the post office and that was a great part of my life too; we did over a hundred miles a day on those bikes, delivering telegrams, and in the evenings we went out on other motor bikes – what a life!

So when I went to drama school, I had spent nearly nine years working, so I stepped into another world. I had a kind of introduction to what it might have been like by taking evening classes at another drama school but it was still a shock to be going to school every day instead of punching a clock; not that I ever punched a clock at the post office.


First of all, I needed a grant to pay the fees and to keep me, and I was fortunate that my education authority didn't needed academic qualifications – just an audition.

As I had spent the year doing the part time drama course I had become familiar with the process of auditioning; the audition for drama school usually meant performing a piece of Shakespeare, a modern piece and a piece of poetry.

After my audition the Principal said I had passed and then grilled me as to what I was letting myself in for; I actually knew what I was letting myself in for and really looked forward to the 'resting' periods of an actor – in other words being out of work. A thing I have never let worry me; even now.

Next I had to audition for the Education Authority which was more difficult; I had to do the same three pieces but when it came to the modern piece I did a fifteen minute speech by Harold Pinter. The drama man from the education authority wasn't expecting something so long so when I had finished he asked me a lot of questions about it: how I had managed to retain the lines and concentration; then we went into free improvisation and then some improvisation which he had set – and I got the grant; Yippee!!

At drama school we studied speech, which included diction and voice projection; we learned all about our intercostal muscles, our diaphragms and we were taught how to breath. A few wags, of course, would question that last one as we were all alive.

We learned how to sing, sword fight, dance – ballet and tap – we studied theatre history, historical movement, the history of costume, microphone technique, improvisation and a whole load of other things I can't bring to mind; in other words I've forgotten more than I know.

After seven years in the work force, standing in a class taking ballet lessons with people all shapes and sizes seemed unreal; especially when the windows were being cleaned by a mesmerised window cleaner who spent more time than needed on a single pane.

The dancing teacher would tell us all to get on the balls of our feet and everybody had to hold their laughs when she said one day “Come on boys; up on you balls!”

Apart from lessons in the above we performed plays for the public and many more plays for the rest of the college.

It gave us the opportunity to fail and we did many times but we had a lot of fun doing it.

Of course being twenty three I was a lot older than the other new students who were straight from school. They had just finished their A-levels and I'd just finished work, as far as I was concerned.

Being older than the others I was cast in the older roles; it was fun getting made up to play somebody eighty three and getting to know how to use make-up but it wasn't any use to me for a career in the theatre where you very rarely get to use the colour carmine from your make up box to put veins onto your cheeks; they cast people who already have them. The only time I was cast in something near my age was when someone dropped out.

I remember doing a production of Juno and the Paycock – a play I was brought up on – and it was double cast; which meant that two casts alternated performances and I was cast as Captain Boyle. Then they changed the director and he said it would be interesting if I played four different characters; so they left the part of Captain Boyle to be played by one actor and I played the four characters; if you know the play I played the sewing machine man, a coal block vendor, an IRA man and a tailor called Needle Nugent.

The trouble was the audience recognised me and laughed each time I came on – especially at the college performance.

We had a good Joxer Daley and a terrible Joxer Daley – but the whole thing was good.

Drama School is not the only way to go into the theatre; the other way is to get a job at a repertory theatre as an Assistant Stage Manager playing small parts; you have to do loads of work backstage on props etc and play a small part, if there is a small part, and then the next year graduate to bigger roles – if you are lucky.

Some people would have to do ASM and small parts even after leaving drama school and some people at drama school only ever wanted to do that and went on to be company managers.

The other things at drama school to study were teaching and speech therapy and the majority of the students who studied that went on to successful careers in those fields.

I didn't have to do any of the ASM jobs; I did the same as everybody else when I left drama school by writing to every repertory company in the book plus the Television companies and casting directors.

I got more interest from the TV companies so before I even went into the theatre – apart from doing Toad of Toad Hall at Birmingham Rep when I was still at drama school – I did maybe fifty or sixty television episodes, half a dozen commercials and a film.

One of the roles that most of the men wanted to play at drama school was Danny in Emlyn Williams play Night Must Fall and one of the first roles I played in the theatre was that particular role; instead of playing someone older than me I was playing younger for a change.

After I finished that season someone wanted me to play Danny again at their theatre in East Grinstead – no I didn't know where it was either!

I met the director, who was a well known television actor, in a London cafe and we had an hour of chat, coffee and fresh cream cakes, where he told me about his theatre and how great the production would be and how he had enjoyed my performance in the same role.

We shook hands and said we would see each other soon; not long after I found he had given the role to Hywel Bennett; welcome to the theatre??






Saturday, December 11, 2010

Increase in Education Fees? Off with their heads!


Hello happy people of Britain who voted Conservative and Liberal Democrat; what did you expect?

Well perhaps not as much as increasing the University and College fees by 300% - that's right isn't it? Tripling the fees.

The Liberal Democrats promised in their manifesto not to increase college fees at all so what are they going to do? They are bound to vote against the government – but will they?

If they vote against the government the Labour Party can call for a Vote of Confidence and if the Conservatives lose that they have to call another General Election; but again I ask – will they?

If the fees for Universities and college are out of reach of the average person, who will go to University? Why the rich of course and then there will be plenty of people to work as shop assistants, burger flippers or in the factories – maybe even in a sweat shop or just on the dole.

Well there are plenty of people who crowded into Parliament Square in London on Thursday who don't want the fees to be raised and they are doing the only thing they can; but I wonder how many of them voted Liberal Democrat?

Because voting Liberal Democrat was as bad as voting for the Conservatives; all you people that tactically voted to keep the Conservatives out will now know that Tactical Voting doesn't work; how do I know? Because there is now a minority government in Britain propped up by Nicholas (Tory Boy) Clegg and the Liberal Democrats. And do I care from this long distance? You bet your life I do!

The only calm bloke in the melee on Thursday was Prince Charles; in the mad panic, when his car was attacked, and some prat shouted “off with their heads” he calmly pushed his wife to the floor and sedately and regally waved at the crowd.

Later he, and his wife, went to the Royal Variety Show and emerged from their Bentley like James Bond and Pussy Galore – good on you Charlie!

Well Stephen Frears certainly got his character wrong in The Queen didn't he; but we all knew that?

It might seem against my politics to be in a favour of a Monarchy but I prefer it to the contrary; yes it probably would have been President Thatcher or President Blair – just like Putin in Russia.

So if you live in the UK and have young children it is your time to fight against the increases in Education fees.

I went to College full time for three years and all the fees were paid for by the Education Department and I was also given a generous grant to live on – I know that was then and this is now but if you voted for either the Conservatives or Liberal Democrats and wasn't expecting this maybe you shouldn't have voted at all.

Are your memories so short that you can't remember Thatcher and the Poll Tax and the smashing of the Unions?

But maybe it is good that the right wing, and by implication, the upper classes are showing themselves and showing their true colours; if I was in such a minority I would want to keep it as quiet as possible in case it's more than one prat who wants my head.


Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Julian Assange, WikiLeaks and other BS.

Well there we are; Julian Assange is in custody and the world is safe. Amazon.com, Paypal and Visa have stopped doing business with his company, Wikileaks – who have nothing to do with Wikipedia by the way – so they won't be able to make any money any more.

Now let's get this straight: WikiLeaks have been leaking secret information – not TOP secret - so what is the difference between what Julian Assange and what his WikiLeaks web site is doing and what Scooter Libby did and even what Bob Woodward writes?

Secret not TOP secret, don't forget.

But Julian Assange isn't in gaol because of the WikiLeaks cables he's there because of a sex charge. Now isn't that well timed?

Why is it that when some people become nuisances they are suddenly arrested on some sex charge or are involved in a scandal?

Charles Dilke was a right honourable gentleman during Victorian times in England; a right honourable gentleman because he was a cabinet minister in the Liberal Government of Gladstone – a radical Liberal, by the way and he supported laws giving the municipal franchise to women, legalising labour unions, improving working conditions and limiting working hours, as well as being one of the earliest campaigners for universal schooling – that last little bit I got from Wikipedia – nothing to do with WikiLeaks.

He was brought down by a sex scandal.

Charles Stewart Parnell almost achieved home for Ireland but just when he had an Irish Parliament in the palm of his hand (his words) he was brought down by the Kitty O'Shea scandal.

Look these people up on Wiki – not Leaks but pedia.

There are people who will question Wikipedia, by the way; but they shouldn't!

I don't know whether Julian Assange is guilty of what he is being charged with but isn't it coincidental that he is being charged for it now?

Julian Assange (I love to say that name) is an Australian; Australians are usually people who don't stand for bullshit; they, like the Americans, are the nemesis of England. They are fellow members of the New World and react strangely to the English.

The Americans and Australians like the Irish – who the English don't like generally – but when Australians went to England they asked “when the English are by themselves do they speak normal?”

As an Australian how can the USA ask the British to extradite him to America? Isn't espionage something you do when you are in that country and not what Julian Assange is doing from abroad?

In Britain, before the Internet, people would kind of disappear; people like Assange, and Daniel Ellsberg would have some kind of accident or end up in a mental hospital.

These days with the Internet they get shot in the face!!

When he was a radical thorn in the side of the British and South African Governments Peter Hain was arrested for and eventually tried for bank robbery. He was trying to stop the South African cricket and rugby teams from touring Britain because of their apartheid policies and was set up. He was eventually found not guilty.

By the way he became a cabinet minister in the British Labour Government but a couple of years ago he resigned – some kind of financial scandal!!

But going back to these WikiLeaks cables: isn't this given governments the chance to send false cables in the future to let the public know what they (the governments) want them to know?

I bet the governments are laughing.



Thursday, December 2, 2010

Qatar?? Cutter Katarrr!!!


It seems Russia have won the rights to stage the World Cup in 2018 (I should live so long) and Qatar in 2022 – although the Americans pronounce it as Cutter!! It's Katarrr – my brother, who lived there for a few years, just told me.

The programme I was listening to on the radio went to their correspondent in Moscow to ask if people were celebrating in the streets and was told it was zero degrees there and people were indoors; just as they are in the UK.

I hear the whole of the UK and Ireland has been hit by many inches of snow and people there are freezing too so I want to put word in for the poor people of California who are cold.

Yes you wouldn't believe it would you? Here in Los Angeles people are huddled around their tiny heaters as the temperature has been down to the lower fifties and forties; in the day time it has been up to the seventies but at night time it's cold.

How cold is it in Europe? About thirty degrees but I have to repeat – it's been cold here and the big problem here is that we hardly have any heating. It's great in the bathroom with the heater in there but what about the rest of the flat?

I have noticed some people have actually had to start wearing socks here; I saw someone yesterday with some on. It was a bit awkward for him to walk as his flip flops were the ones that go through the toes and they kept coming off; every time they did this he would stumble and once or twice he spilled some of his latte down his shorts.

It's supposed to rain on Sunday and we are getting ready for that – I think it's due some time in the afternoon and maybe up to a quarter of an inch. I think some people are cancelling their picnic plans.

At the moment the sun is out and there isn't a cloud in the sky but I don't let that fool me.

I saw the photos of the conquest of Everest and the sun was out there too – but look how cold it was! So before I go out I will put some suitable clothing on; I think I have a jacket somewhere and maybe some long trousers; I'm not sure but I will brave the weather later on – don't worry about me I'm quite hardy.

Saturday, November 27, 2010

Bugger Bogner - the Oscar goes to . . .


There is a small town on the south coast of England called Bognor Regis; it was, originally, plain old baldy Bognor but King George V went there to convalesce with his wife, Queen Mary, in 1929, and as a result, the King was asked to bestow the Regis (of the King) suffix onto Bognor so since then that is what it has been called.

In the new film, The King's Speech, King George V is admirably played by Michael Gambon and there is a death bed scene in the film when the family gather around his bed to await his death.

There is an apocryphal story about this moment in history and I'm glad to say that the film makers avoided it. It goes like this: someone says to the King something to do with Bognor, something like 'when you're better you can go to Bognor' or 'we'll always have Bognor' and the King is supposed to have replied 'Bugger Bognor' and died making those his last words. I saw the film last night and when the moment came I couldn't help but whisper to my wife 'Bugger Bognor.'

The film itself, The King's Speech, is absolutely wonderful; I won't be surprised if it wins Best Picture Oscar at the Academy Awards in February.

The performances are first class with one exception; Timothy Spall is totally miscast as Winston Churchill. He is never what you might call bad but he is on a hiding to nothing being miscast as he is not Winston Churchill by any stretch of the imagination.

There are other well known people of the day with Helena Bonham-Carter playing Queen Elizabeth, the Queen Mother, and Claire Bloom playing George V's wife Queen Mary but two performances stand out and they are Colin Firth as George VI and Geoffrey Rush as his speech therapist Lionel Logue; they both deserve to win for best actor and that might be a problem.

If they are both nominated for best actor they could cancel each other out. However, if Colin Firth is nominated for best and Geoffrey Rush for best supporting they could get both – plus the film getting best picture.

King George VI had a very bad stammer and the King's speech in the title refers to two things: his speech in general and the speech he had to give to the nation on the advent of World War II in 1939.

The King's stammer seemed to be on nearly every letter; he had problems with his p, m, k and d sounds and others too and he is helped by an actor (Rush) who discovered, without any qualifications and letters after his name, that he had a gift for helping people with their speech defects.

As an actor he would because when you go to drama school half of the time you are studying speech.

In Hollywood at the moment people have on their CV that they trained with so and so in cold reading classes, commercial audition classes and all the other part time stuff but at drama school, when I went, we studied for three years full time speech and drama from 10:00am to 4:00pm every day.

We messed around, of course, like any other students and laughed through the lessons when we were trying to strengthen our diaphragms; we laughed at the fact that we took breathing lessons when we had been breathing all our lives and we had more fun when we had to try and touch the ceiling with a very big stretch and then let go letting our arms fall almost touching the floor – but we did it.

We would all chant par pay pee paw poo, par pay pee paw poo, par pay pee paw poo, par pay pee paw poo, par pay pee paw poo; I italicized the ones you have to stress – try it.

The other thing we would do is; 'one by one they went away' – in one breath going on to 'one by one and two by two and three by three' all the way to ten in one breath. It was great fun but it gave us breath control.

We would do tongue twisters like Tiptoe Tommy Turned a Turk for Tuppence and lots of others to help our diction.

At the end of it the fun we could do long Shakespeare speeches and the like with a lot of confidence; it didn't mean that none of us were physically sick before going on stage and didn't give any of us talent, where it didn't exist, but it helped our instrument; the instrument we had to play was our bodies – not just our voices but our bodies.

In our year at drama school there were about 30 students and only a few of us stuck it out as actors; a lot of the others were very sensible and went into speech therapy and successful careers.

I'm not saying speech therapy comes easy to actors but it is a kind of second nature; some of the techniques that the Geoffrey Rush character used in the film I had already worked out. For instance I have never heard anybody singing with a stammer or when they are really angry or losing their tempers.

When the King would swear he didn't stammer; he could say the 'f' word and the 's' word and all the others and this was part of his therapy.

I have never tried to help anybody with a stammer but I have helped someone eliminate a lisp; that was all down to the placement of the tongue. It was the same technique as in the film – repetition and tongue exercises.

I had a very slight stammer when I first went to drama school; I was suddenly thrust into an environment of people with great self confidence; sometimes I couldn't get a word in edgewise and nobody seemed to listen; I got to realise that there was some kind of panic in my throat and my chest as if I needed to cough but couldn't - then for some reason I started to tell jokes.

I would go around like a comedian looking for a stage taking my hat off, putting my hand out and cracking a gag. Then I would walk away; people must have thought I was crazy; but my stammer went!

So when I watched the King's Speech last night I could feel empathy for him because Colin Firth was so good.

Look for King George VI on You Tube and you will hear him give the speech and when you see the film you will know that Colin Firth was spot on – play it and you'll see what I mean.

One of the most important things about the film is the F-bomb; in the therapy it is used as the King didn't stammer when saying it; then as he is trying to get through the famous speech in rehearsal he goes through the emotions he feels by singing some of the speech to the tune of Swanee River or the Camptown Races and then in another part of the speech he has to say 'fuck fuck fuck' and there is a wonderful moment in the actual speech at the BBC when he pauses slightly, and he can't use the same help but has to think it; he looks for help to Geoffrey Rush on the other side of the microphone who mouths ' fuck fuck fuck' and the King carries on.

Some of the most extraordinary shots in the film are the long close ups on Colin Firth and how he is able to hold your attention through them; it was a technique the director in Colin Firth's previous film, A Single Man, used last year which worked very well. I wonder of the director of The King's Speech was inspired by the previous film?

Apparently The King's Speech got an 'R' rating because it used one fuck too many.

The only people who would be offended by this would be the archetypal 'disgusted' from Tunbridge Wells – or Royal Tunbridge Wells as it has become just like Bognor; well bugger Tunbridge Wells and bugger Bognor!

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Sarah Palin; the Most Dangerous Woman in the World?



Well there she is above; Sarah Palin. And who does she remind you of?

Have a look at the other photo and even though she is a lot older, Mary Whitehouse both in looks and opinions, is a good contender

In Britain people will remember Mary Whitehouse as the first president of the National Viewers and Listeners Association which stood for Christian Values and started a Clean Up TV Campaign; they took private prosecutions against Gay News and the director of a play at the National Theatre, Romans in Britain.

She also brought an injunction against ITV when they planned to show a documentary about Andy Warhol which stopped its initial showing; when it was shown a few weeks later the publicity guaranteed huge viewing figures; in fact everything she campaigned against benefited from the publicity.

When she took the director of The Romans in Britain to court she hadn't even seen the play. The play, written by Howard Brenton, drew a direct parallel between the Roman in invasion in Celtic Britain in 54BC and the contemporary British presence in the so called Northern Ireland.

In the play, directed by Michael Bogdanov, there is a brief rape scene which was, obviously, simulated and it was said that an erect penis was seen from the audience and this was supposedly seen by Mrs Whitehouse's solicitor from the back row – some penis! Anyway without going too far into it the prosecution told her they couldn't prosecute any further; both sides claimed a victory but Mrs Whitehouse had to pay costs.

When Mrs Thatcher came to power in 1979 Mary Whitehouse had found a more suitable ally but Thatcher's market economy policy wasn't helpful to her values.

Even though she never stood for any political party she was a darling of the right but I think, in the long run, harmless. She did a lot to stop kiddy porn but how is that going? The very people who supported her, the Catholic Church for one, didn't exactly set a good example.

I don't think Sarah Palin is harmless; she is being followed by the same kind of people who followed Mary Whitehouse but Sarah Palin has political aspirations.

We have seen her being interviewed and it's quite obvious that she is ill-informed; she had a terrible interview with Katy Couric showing how ignorant she was about the political world in general and Congress and the Supreme Court in particular.

She had made a few speeches as Governor of Alaska and always refers to herself as the momma grizzly and she used the same speeches when John McCain nominated her as his running mate for President (of the USA) two years ago and she excites a certain kind of audience; she excites a certain kind of emotion that is very dangerous.

She doesn't like what is happening here, doesn't like Obama's policies and thinks he should have worked wonders and shit miracles like some kind of political magician.

America, two years ago, was in the worst state it had ever been since the depression; the whole banking system almost collapsed. The people that were privy to the actual crisis were calling home and telling their loved ones to get around to the bank and draw as much cash from the ATMs as they could as they were sure it was all over; this has been stated in some of the 'behind the scenes' books that have been published since the crisis.

It took a good few years to get the country into that state and she, and her fellow Republicans and TEA party members, are opportunists who, to further their own political ambitions, are willing to do or say anything to get power. They are saying that the Obama administration should have cleared up the mess by now when they know it would be impossible to go any faster.

Sarah Palin's daughter is a contestant on Dancing with the Stars and, by all accounts as I haven't seen it, is not very good; but she is getting voted for by the public and is winning against people who can really dance. And this is because the people who are voting for her don't care whether she can dance or not as long as she wins.

That's what it will be like if momma grizzly stands for President!

I heard yesterday that the voting on Dancing with the Stars is all down to one man but if that is a rumour or not true it is obvious that the TEA party are voting for the daughter; Sarah Palin has been seen in the audience at the show she is also the star of her own reality show and it's quite obvious that she plans to run for president and this is the way she is doing it.

At the moment that would make it a lot easier for Barack Obama to win a second term but this is a country that voted into power George W Bush and Ronald Reagan!!!! So be warned.

We often ask how a country could vote such a silly looking man into power as Hitler. He had no ideas and no solutions - said so in his speeches - and just gave patriotic sound bites and when he got in; well you know about that.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

audio Books, James Joyce and Mark Zuckerberg.

























There they are above and left - James Joyce and Mark Zuckerberg - which one would you rather be?

I have always liked to write and this little outlet allows me to vent my avocation without getting into too much trouble; I am admonished now and again, mainly by my brother, for using Americanisms and American spellings but I plead not guilty; The Guitar Center is spelled like that because it is a company who spell it that way. I know he didn't pull me up on that one but he has on others in the past.

So what am I on about here? Well nothing to do with the above; I was thinking that apart from writing I like reading; my last novel is on all the various media available to it: audio book, electronic book and paperback. I suppose it could have been in hard back but I didn't get that kind of a deal.

My latest is up on Amazon's Kindle and this week I am starting to record the audio version and I hope that Audible take it.

The first one sold better as an electronic book than anything else with a few selling on Smashwords but the majority to Kindle. Personally I haven't tried any of the electronic books as a reader but I have tried audio books.

Audio books are an acquired taste; if you like the book at bedtime on Radio 4 in the UK the audio book is for you. Personally, when I read, I like to see the punctuation and it's hard to see that when someone is reading it to you. The great thing about reading James Joyce is that you can see where genius Jim puts his semi-colons, his full colons and when he uses commas for parenthesis. In Ulysses, for example, he doesn't use inverted commas for speech; he uses a dash and then a comma before 'he said' for example and it's interesting to see where he puts an exclamation mark.

So it's hard, sometimes, to know whether the book has been written well or not when you are listening to a reader. So I tend to listen to biographies and read the novels.

Sometimes you only want information from books and I have been reading the hard back version of The People's History of the United States by Howard Zinn and to be honest I don't care how well it was written. It was well written, by the way, but it is a heavy book and I don't mean the subject; it must weigh a good few pounds from its 800 pages so I am having a break from it and reading Dubliners again by James Joyce.

In Dubliners he used inverted commas for speech (quotation marks in American) and it's very hard to believe why it wasn't published in Ireland; it was turned down by George Roberts of the publishers Maunsel – Joyce certainly had a go at him in Gas From a Burner his famous poem. He wasn't a great poet, even though some of his poetry is beautiful, but he certainly gets to the point in the aforementioned poem.

George Roberts was a red headed Scot from Ulster; Joyce mentions a Belfast man in one of the stories in a derogatory manner so you never know; that might have been the reason.

Another line in the poem:

I printed the great John Milicent Synge
Who soars above on an angel's wing
In the playboy shift that he pinched as swag
From Maunsel's manager's travelling-bag.

Well I don't know what he knew about John Millington Synge but he is saying something about him there; suggesting he is effeminate?

Synge's most famous play was The Playboy of the Western World and when the word shift was used in it, there was a riot at the Abbey Theatre. Shift!!!! What would they say if they used the language they use these days?

Of course they would accept it - eventually.

But I didn't start to write this to write about Jimmy Joyce; I just kind of drifted into it; I wanted to say I like reading and writing and also talking to people and I like to talk as opposed to texting – there we are I knew it; no such word! The same as texted.

I suppose there will be one day but I should have said I like talking as opposed to sending texts!

Yesterday Facebook added something else. A way to keep the history of all your e-mails in the same place – at your facebook page, of course.

In ten years time all the history of every e-mail you have ever sent will be there with the guy who owns facebook; Mark Zuckerberg.

It will be the most comprehensive list of information ever and facebook, in competition with Google, are trying to get it all into another place - your mobile phone; and I am wondering . . . where is it going to end?

The more sophisticated it all gets the less exciting I am about it; I check my e-mails on my computer when I log on; I don't want Instant Messenger, I don't want a text to let me know when I get an e-mail and I don't really want my friends and relations to know when I'm on line – am I the only one?

Here's the poem from a literal time – it has a good rhythm and Billy Walsh, by the way, was the Lord Mayor of Dublin.

Gas From a Burner
by James Joyce (1912)
Ladies and gents, you are here assembled
To hear why earth and heaven trembled
Because of the black and sinister arts
Of an Irish writer in foreign parts.

He sent me a book ten years ago.
I read it a hundred times or so,
Backwards and forwards, down and up,
Through both the ends of a telescope.

I printed it all to the very last word
But by the mercy of the Lord
The darkness of my mind was rent
And I saw the writer's foul intent.

But I owe a duty to Ireland:
I held her honour in my hand,
This lovely land that always sent
Her writers and artists to banishment
And in a spirit of Irish fun
Betrayed her own leaders, one by one.

'Twas Irish humour, wet and dry,
Flung quicklime into Parnell's eye;
'Tis Irish brains that save from doom
The leaky barge of the Bishop of Rome
For everyone knows the Pope can't belch
Without the consent of Billy Walsh.

O Ireland my first and only love
Where Christ and Caesar are hand and glove!
O lovely land where the shamrock grows!
(Allow me, ladies, to blow my nose)
To show you for strictures I don't care a button
I printed the poems of Mountainy Mutton
And a play he wrote (you've read it I'm sure)
Where they talk of 'bastard', 'bugger' and 'whore'
And a play on the Word and Holy Paul
And some woman's legs that I can't recall
Written by Moore, a genuine gent
That lives on his property's ten per cent:
I printed mystical books in dozens:
I printed the table-book of Cousins
Though (asking your pardon) as for the verse
'Twould give you a heartburn on your arse:
I printed folklore from North and South
By Gregory of the Golden Mouth:
I printed poets, sad, silly and solemn:
I printed Patrick What-do-you-Colm:
I printed the great John Milicent Synge
Who soars above on an angel's wing
In the playboy shift that he pinched as swag
From Maunsel's manager's travelling-bag.

But I draw the line at that bloody fellow
That was over here dressed in Austrian yellow,
Spouting Italian by the hour
To O'Leary Curtis and John Wyse Power
And writing of Dublin, dirty and dear,
In a manner no blackamoor printer could bear.

Shite and onions! Do you think I'll print
The name of the Wellington Monument,
Sydney Parade and Sandymount tram,
Downes's cakeshop and Williams's jam?

I'm damned if I do-- I'm damned to blazes!
Talk about Irish Names of Places!
It's a wonder to me, upon my soul,
He forgot to mention Curly's Hole.

No, ladies, my press shall have no share in
So gross a libel on Stepmother Erin.
I pity the poor-- that's why I took
A red-headed Scotchman to keep my book.

Poor sister Scotland! Her doom is fell;
She cannot find any more Stuarts to sell.
My conscience is fine as Chinese silk:
My heart is as soft as buttermilk.
Colm can tell you I made a rebate
Of one hundred pounds on the estimate
I gave him for his Irish Review.
I love my country-- by herrings I do!

I wish you could see what tears I weep
When I think of the emigrant train and ship.
That's why I publish far and wide
My quite illegible railway guide,
In the porch of my printing institute
The poor and deserving prostitute
Plays every night at catch-as-catch-can
With her tight-breeched British artilleryman
And the foreigner learns the gift of the gab
From the drunken draggletail Dublin drab.

Who was it said: Resist not evil?
I'll burn that book, so help me devil.
I'll sing a psalm as I watch it burn
And the ashes I'll keep in a one-handled urn.

I'll penance do with farts and groans
Kneeling upon my marrowbones.
This very next lent I will unbare
My penitent buttocks to the air
And sobbing beside my printing press
My awful sin I will confess.
My Irish foreman from Bannockburn
Shall dip his right hand in the urn
And sign crisscross with reverent thumb
Memento homo upon my bum.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

In Flanders Field



This is for today; November 11th; it would be great if it was published at eleven minutes passed eleven but that comes at different times in different countries; it was the time and date of the armistice in 1918; the end of the first world war which started in 1914; so I will get this as close to 11:00 am as I can.

The poem, which titles this post, was written by a Canadian John McCrae – so it's not only the English who wrote great World War One poetry; some of the great poems of the first world war were pro-war for example Rupert Brooke as opposed to the anti-war poems by others including Wilfred Owen.

There are two photos above as you can see – one clearly has the first line as 'In Flanders Field the poppies grow' which was hand written by the author and in the other one, taken from the publication In Flanders Field and Other Poems clearly says as poppies blow. I believe the hand written one was written from memory and is a mistake; but I always thought it was grow.

At this time of year in Britain most people wear red poppies in their lapels; this is to remember Armistice Day lest anybody forget and the people buy the poppies from poppy sellers in the streets; they're also usually available at your school and place of work and the money collected goes to a charity.

The newly washed and appointed Prime Minister of Britain David Cameron(I hasten to say elected) has recently worn his poppy as a red rag; there he is, above, with his pals drinking a toast in China to celebrate the signing of a contract.

Sometimes I wish for the talent of DH Lawrence or Philip Larkin to describe such a picture; they look like robins on a clothes line waiting for the bang.

Before they went to China they were asked not to wear the poppy; it might be a great symbol in Britain but in China it is a different kind of symbol; it symbolizes the history between China and Britain: China's humiliation to Europe during the Opium Wars – also known as the Anglo/Chinese Wars.

I got the following from Wikipedia - Opium was smuggled by merchants from British India into China in defiance of Chinese prohibition laws. Open warfare between Britain and China broke out in 1839. Further disputes over the treatment of British merchants in Chinese ports resulted in the Second Opium War.

China became a minor power for the following one hundred and fifty years till the Communists took over.

So Cameron and his mates go to China with their poppies proudly worn on their breasts just as someone walked into a field one day with a red rag.

This from The Guardian and shows Cameron's arrogance: Chinese officials apparently asked them not to do it because the poppy is a vivid symbol of China's humiliation at the hands of the European powers. "We informed them that they mean a great deal to us and we would be wearing them all the same," a British official explained.

We know it's a wonderful thing in Britain but Britain is just like America; they go to other parts of the world putting their point of view and wanting the rest of the world to behave just like they do.

Who said in the first place that Democracy is the best form of government; a Democracy produced Hitler! I don't know. I only know that I have always lived under democracies and they have always been in a mess.

I can't remember any time in my life when we haven't been 'in trouble' when there hasn't had to be cuts in public spending, arts subsidies; I hear that they are going to abolish Child Allowance in Britain – is that true?

I leave you with a great poem and ask – is it pro or anti-war? Throwing the torch?? Discuss????

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie,
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

In the richest country in the world you meet the poorest of people starving on the streets


We went for lunch yesterday to the Sunset Grill on Sunset Boulevard; on the wall there is a copy of the record by Joe Walsh of the song which this establishment influenced.

As you can see by the picture above it's next to The Guitar Center in Hollywood where I bought my guitar a few weeks ago. The neighbourhood attracts pop stars and musicians from all over the world and there are plenty of recording studios about the place and plenty of other guitar shops.

The record on the wall says either Joe Walsh (I think it does as I haven't looked closely at it for a long time) or The Eagles and if you look at the picture above we sat on those two chairs out front and, as the song says below, we can watch the working girls go by (the prostitutes).

There are not that many you can recognise these days as that little part of the area has cleaned itself up a bit although there are a couple of strip clubs opposite on the other side of Sunset and when he goes on to say in the song that the “basket people” walk around and mumble it's not the so called basket people who are doing the mumbling these days as a lot of people pass and appear to be talking to themselves because they have a mobile phone hidden somewhere and a discreet ear piece secluded away like the secret service. But instead of speaking into their shoulder like the secret service they talk out loud even gesturing with their arms as they walk.

If my grandmother were to suddenly rise from the grave and see how many people walk the streets and appear to be talking to themselves she would dive back into the grave.

I had a hot dog and my wife had beef quesadillas and we sat in the sunshine watching the world go by for a while. The Sunset Grill is one of the places in that immediate area where you can get a relatively cheap lunch but recently there have been a few of our favourite places closing down.

I wrote a post, I think, about The Last American Hamburger which closed down about six months ago and last week or so The Curry Palace further west on Sunset closed its doors; that and the Coach and Horses English Pub are no more.

It was nothing like an English pub by the way but it wasn't bad. Locals thought that Quentin Tarantino might buy it as he used to go there on Friday evenings but it wasn't to be so when you go there now there is a notice from some official body on the door to say the premises are available for someone to apply for a liqueur licence; so if that's what you are after you know where to go.

The places are closing down because the landlords are asking for more rent at the expiration of the leases; The last American Hamburger is to be replaced soon by Chipotle which will be more expensive so we are left with El Compadre, the Mexican Restaurant opposite and The Sunset Grill.

Food trucks are very fashionable in Los Angeles at the moment but they should know where to come; I know they are around there earlier in the mornings.

The one snag about The Last American Hamburger was that if you sat outside, hungry homeless people would come up and eat out of the trash bins; it was stomach turning and I couldn't help feeling guilty with a plate of food in front of me and people doing things like that; in the richest country in the world you meet the poorest of people starving on the streets.

Let's go down to the Sunset Grill
We can watch the working girls go by
Watch the "basket people" walk around and mumble
And stare out at the auburn sky
There's an old man there from the Old World
To him, it's all the same
Calls all his customers by name
Down at the Sunset Grill
Down at the Sunset Grill
Down at the Sunset Grill
Down at the Sunset Grill
You see a lot more meanness in the city
It's the kind that tears you up inside
Hard to come away with anything that feels
like dignity
Hard to get home with any pride
These days a man makes you somethin'
And you never see his face
But there is no hiding place
Down at the Sunset Grill
Down at the Sunset Grill
Down at the Sunset Grill
Down at the Sunset Grill
Respectable little murders pay
They get more respectable every day
Don't worry girl, I'm gonna stick by you
And someday soon we're gonna get in that
car and get outta here
Let's go down to the Sunset Grill
Watch the working girls go by
Watch the "basket people" walk around and
mumble
And gaze out at the auburn sky
Maybe we'll leave come springtime
Meanwhile, have another beer
What would we do without these jerks
anyway?
Besides, all our friends are here
Down at the Sunset Grill
Down at the Sunset Grill
Down at the Sunset Grill
Down at the Sunset Grill

Writers: Don Henley, Danny Kortchmar, Benmont M. Tench,