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23:14
30 Jun 2006
Taunton: Z-List Hub
OJ and I grew up there, we know these things. You might catch Marcus Trescothick, England cricketer, in the Deller's Wharf nightclub. Noel Edmonds once landed at our school in a helicopter. Michael Ancram, then Tory chairman, turned up and shook my hand. That's about it. And now I can confirm Taunton maintains this reputation in the eyes of the rest of Britain.
How do I know? Through a two-minute break in transmission during The Daily Politics on the BBC. BBC editor Jamie Donald explains what happened:
Today on The Daily Politics, Jenny Scott gave a "big board" presentation on the troubles in Gaza - the kind of item where to tell the story we run pictures, graphics and clips into a big screen in the studio with a presenter, standing in front, linking them all together live.
Suddenly, in the middle of it, a picture of a bearded man in a studio flashed up, followed by the BBC Two caption saying there had been a break in transmission. We were back on air within two minutes ... The problem was a straightforward bit of finger trouble: I won’t name names, but someone hit the wrong button in the gallery, was distracted by another problem and there we weren’t.
A comment left beneath Jamie Donald's article, by a man named Matthew, reads as follows:
Well, who was that bearded fellow? And what was the room we were seeing? It seems the BBC is in the business of giving minor people an active say in politics - witness the recent News 24 gaffe with Guy (the taxi driver, actually interviewee.) Oh, and add to that list Blue Peter's recruitment of the gafferboy.... the BBC is making stars out of Z list celebrities - the true all out commoner!
The Daily Politics' Alan Connor responds:
The room was in the BBC's Taunton studio, and the "Z-lister" was Antony Jay, writer of Yes Minister.
How nice to be part of an organisation that a) gives its editors space to talk about how they feel when their programmes go wrong, b) gives its audience the right to leave comments, good or bad, immediately below that space, and c) fosters an atmosphere where employees can weigh in with contributions like Alan did, midway through a comment thread involving editors and audience alike.
The BBC Editors' blog is definitely worth checking out, if only since the editors featured have impeccable taste. Newsnight editor Peter Barron demonstrated this today when he linked to us in one of his posts! I won't link to the article in question - that'd be some kind of bizarre reciprocal-linking-squared and it'd all end in tears. And anyway you should be encouraged to read the Editors' Blog in its entirety. Click here to read it.
Big Brother's throwing five new housemates into a brand new 'secret' house next to the old one tonight - and dumping pseudo-evicted housemate Aisleyne in there to boot. It's all sort-of exciting and sort-of desperate on Channel 4's behalf.
BUT - what's this! Prepare yourself for possibly the most hilarious claim to fame ever. The first new contestant, John or Jonathan or something like that, once danced on stage with Five Star! He's got my support already. My hero.
Germany. They just can't miss penalties, can they? I missed most of their quarter-final clash against Argentina today but I caught the penalty shoot-out and the German spot kicks were nothing short of clinical. Not a prayer for the substitute Argentinian goalkeeper, whereas the South Americans rolled a couple of England-esque howlers into the open arms of Jens Lehmann.
And from there the game quickly swapped open arms for clenched fists. Someone stuck a foot out, someone fell over, someone else waded in with a right hook and it all kicked off. Expect to hear more from FIFA about that one, even though an Argentinian sub was sent off for his involvement.
The big one tomorrow, England v Portugal. Were I gambling, my money would still be on Portugal I'm afraid. At least it'll save us losing to the Germans on penalties.
On a related note, check out the updated DayoRimet goasl per game per TV channel counter on the right of the home page. There's now just 0.06 goals per game between the BBC and ITV coverage! It's getting very close indeed but Auntie just has her head above water for now (despite the setback that was Switzerland v Ukraine).
Speaking of the BBC, I'm off to play American Football in Reading on Sunday for an article on the Berkshire website. Everything I know about American Football I learnt playing the John Madden video games produced by EA Sports, so there may be a steep learning curve. Who knows, maybe I'll adopt it full time and join the club?
We didn't post yesterday. My world is falling apart. There are elephants in my head (Parents, don't read this bit: 21/2 pints, 3 g+t and 2 glasses of red isn't a good combination!). And my God-Mother is arriving shortly and I must clean my flat... At least I'm back early-ish. Oh and I turned my fridge up (or I suppose down) yesterday and there are icy bits in my yoghurt. Ooops.
Yes, I admit my prediction was pants. Henman played really well in the first set though and then after that... it was pretty easy for Federer to win. I think my money is on Roddick. I've decided he's quite lovely.
I was looking at the SportRelief stuff today, specifically the "run a mile". However, it's on the 2nd Saturday in July and I may be involved in our County Show. If you've any ideas for either Ollie or I, or both though, I'd be interested to hear them! The madder the better.
Mr Autoglass was very satisfactory. Thumbs-up to DirectLine insurance. On another note, I need to sort a pension out for September... (OJ? Help!)
"Off to the Henley Regatta tomorrow to take photos of "fit men in tight pants". Why am I not doing Ollie's job?!! Having said that, I'm meeting a friend from Lincoln in the morning (in Kent), a friend from College in the evening (in London) and having a pedicure in the middle (in Kent). So it's going to be a hectic day! I'm sure the pedicure, spa and eyebrow pluck will be the most stressful!
On another note, I bought some gorgeous earrings and a bangle today. They match the new clothes I (substitute: my father) bought on Saturday. Now, all I need is some lovely young man to take me out so I can wear them... offers on an email please...
It's refreshing to know that no matter how bad my football predictions have been recently, I am at least on level terms with Amy "is this an opening for Henman?" Kennedy. Tim was polished off with almost machine-like efficiency by Federer, who expressed his surprise at the easy win afterwards:
"I think I just played a really good match. It's so difficult to play against the crowd and to play against a player like Tim. I'm very, very happy and it's something I didn't expect."
Which is thinly veiled code for "God, he's even worse than they said he would be".
Never fear though - Berkshire's very own Jamie Delgado is still in the competition, for another 15 hours or so at least. He's facing French no. 15 seed Sebastien Grosjean in the second round, so it's only a matter of time til the curtains close on his Wimbledon too, but at least he can now say he's outlasted Tim Henman at the All England Tennis Club.
Until such time as he bites the grassy dust I'll be keeping a sporadically updated Delgado Watch page running on the BBC Berkshire website.
Sport Relief's coming up next month - any ideas? Any wacky crusade you want to send me on in the name of charity for the BBC? I will entertain any idea sent to ollie dot williams at gmail dot com. At the moment I'm likely to be playing for a Radio Berkshire XI in a charity football match versus Calcot Hawks, but I sense the opportunity to do something a bit more daft should the opportunity arise.
Off to the Henley Regatta tomorrow to take photos of "fit men in tight pants", to quote a colleague. I'd just like to make it clear that no matter what ends up on the Berkshire website, I shall remain sure of my heterosexuality this time round. Rowers were never my type anyway.
I think we've had enough of this football. What about tennis? I must admit, I've never before been able to get enthused about tennis until the second week of Wimbledon. That's when I usually select who I'd like to win (Henman and Murray aside, obviously). However, perhaps this year will be different: today's tennis will be worth watching. Henman v Federer. Also, Venus Williams is playing, as is Sharapova, Hewitt (quite cute on a good day) and Roddick. Anyway, back to Henman. I'd like to have the confidence to say "Henman will win". But, um, I'm not sure I can. Having said that, Federer has won pretty much everything of late and is said to be suffering from "fatigue", so is this an opening for Henman? Henman also seemed pretty fired up in a BBC interview and confident that he had a chance. Surely if Henman gets over this clash, he'd be on a roll for greater success? Anyway, we may as well support him with full-force today, as we may never get another chance this tournament!
Alright, so Spain 1-3 France is not my predicted Spain 2-1 France, but that's is not the bloody POINT. Nice goal from ol' Zinedine, mind, dinking inside and coolly rolling the ball past the keeper. You'd never guess he was 57 this year.
This sets up a Brazil v France encounter next week. Those Brazilians had better shape up a bit - they've been doing an England so far, ticking all the boxes but convincing absolutely nobody that they will live up to their World Cup billing. If they get turned over by France it will bode incredibly badly. On the plus side, as with this game just gone, whichever side loses that game is one less side that can turn over England if we somehow beat Portugal.
I've been flicking between ITV and Channel 4 to try to catch as much of Big Brother as I can, having missed a week and a bit owing to World Cup action. What an impressive hatchet job they're doing on Richard this week. Granted a few people seem not to like him for being variously artificial and two-faced, as per every other Big Brother contestant in the history of the competition (as per every human being, I might venture, to a degree). Even so, I'm convinced Big Brother are trying to get this message across using every means at their disposal.
It's the little trailers at the end of each 15 minute segment which raise my suspicions. There's a quick 5-second burst of action from the next segment, under the banner "Coming Up", designed to keep you turned on, tuned in and dropped out. Twice in this instalment the "Coming Up" piece has been Richard saying something incredibly arsey. First it was him in the diary room nominating people: "Ooh, ooh, you'll like this one, hold onto your seats because you won't be expecting this one." Eejit. And second, him talking about Imogen: "Shall we watch some paint dry, or go and have a conversation with Imogen? Hmmm...". Plonker. Can't disagree with him, but plonker all the same.
Now is that Richard being so arsey so consistently that Big Brother simply can't find anything else he's done, or is that Big Brother editing the arsiness factor up a bit to compensate for the constant stupidity or tedium pumped out by the rest of them?
You know what? I'm going to make a prediction, cos I'm good at them. Must stop using italics like that, by the way, it's turning me into the blogging equivalent of Nikki, all this over-emphasis. Anyway, the prediction is that Aisleyne will get shunted into the new 'secret' Big Brother house on Friday, and Richard will depart the week after. Then he'll beat France 2-1 with a goal in the 78th minute. Promise.
Alright so it wasn't the Spanish scoring in the 78th minute, it was the French in the 83rd, but that's not the point. It hit a Spanish player last on the way in and I was less than five minutes off the time, so as far as I'm concerned I am nothing less than a World Cup psychic.
Speaking of which, the radio station keeps getting emails from a bloke called Dean who claims to be England's "lucky thirteenth man", a medium whose otherworldly intervention will guide England to World Cup glory. There's plenty of evidence cited for this ability, much of it fairly flimsy although I'll admit I don't have the email and would hate to pass comment without being able to give specific examples. I do, however, note that the press releases we get have become increasingly desperate in nature over the past week or two. The moment England get knocked out, I'll be on the phone to him.
Half time and the pesky French have ruined my pre-match prediction by grabbing a goal - it's Spain 1-1 France. Definite penalty for the Spanish which was tucked right into the corner of the net, French goal should probably have been hooked off the line by one of two defenders, plonkers.
Second half prediction so as to keep things interesting or, far more likely, rain down upon myself further humiiliation: Spain 2-1 France. Spanish goal from Torres in the 78th minute. Believe it.
Back on planet Earth and in the ITV studio, I do love these skin-coloured microphones the ITV presenter and pundits have been forced to wear. God knows why they don't just get little lapel mics like the rest of the world - no, no, they have to try to look trendy. Alas the people deciding which colour most accurately represents "skin" had failed to take Terry Venables' glorious perma-tan into account, so the mic glows an almost radioactive white against his, well, equally glowing bronzed pores. There's a lovely thought for the second half.
It's Spain v France for the last remaining place in the quarter-finals, and this ought to be a game to relish. There's the footballing side of things which should be pretty good but, more to the point, one of these two giants is going home by the end of tonight, and that can only be a good thing from an English perspective. I reckon Spain will win 2-0.
Ukraine finally squeezed into the quarter-finals last night on penalties, Switzerland valiantly but somewhat bizarrely refusing point blank to score, be it from the spot or in normal time. It's a very good contender for Most Boring Match of World Cup 2006, of 2006, and indeed of the twenty-first century to date. (There were a few in Division Two in the 1990s which trump it.)
The best entertainment that can be drawn from such a deadly boring game is watching BBC editors bitching about it on their new blog, aptly titled "The Editors". You'd think the bods in charge of Match Of The Day would feel most aggrieved at the pitiful World Cup offering the Beeb had been forced to serve. Think again. Here's the contribution today of Craig Oliver, editor of the Ten O'Clock News:
Sometimes defeat is snatched from the jaws of victory.
Home Editor Mark Easton got a great, unexpected scoop - an interview with Charles Clarke, sacked as Home Secretary last month.
Even better it was embargoed until 10pm. That meant the Ten O'Clock News would be the first programme to run with it - ahead of a longer version on Newsnight.
You may think that's of little consequence, but we editors care deeply about such things.
What we hadn't factored in was that last night's Ten would follow what was arguably the worst football match of all time: a no-score-bore that went to extra time and then penalties. That meant we ended up on air at 10:40pm - well after Newsnight had started.
I wouldn't have minded - but even the penalties were boring. Switzerland didn't even score one.
Which is quite funny, really. As the game headed into extra time, fans in Switzerland and Ukraine chewed their nails off with nervous tension, fans in the rest of the world chewed their limbs off in order to escape having to watch it, and BBC editors chewed their armchairs in absolute despair.
Best of all though is the comments section (this being a blog, there are comments! I keep promising to sort our comments out. I'm working on it). Peter Barron, Newsnight editor, has come up with this riposte:
Yes, but consider our position. I had to watch 120 minutes of the worst football match of all time and then switch over before the moderately exciting bit to watch Newsnight. Sadly, hardly anyone else did, so though we got the scoop we missed all your Ten viewers who'd normally join us for more.
I must be due a BBC weblog. In the Dayorama 'New Entry' control panel there's a place to put a small amount of descriptive text for the Dayorama search engine to use. Throughout my DayoRimet entries I've been writing "World Cup blogging from Dayorama" in it. This time round I accidentally wrote "World Cup blogging from the BBC" before noticing...
It's half time in extra time between Switzerland and Ukraine, and neither side has shown any inclination to nip up the pitch and poke the ball past the opposing goalkeeper. I know I picked out this game quite early on as a likely bore draw, but seriously, I didn't demand this level of tedium.
The one advantage of this is we're likely to see our first penalty shoot-out of the competition, so at least there's the prospect of some excitement after this rather long wait. Equally it means England won't be the first to suffer when they inevitably get chucked out of the competition on penalties at a later date.
Now, it's been a while since I trawled YouTube for interesting World Cup video clips, but needs must and with these two teams on screen, needs really must. And if you thought the referee who doled out three red cards and 97 yellow cards yesterday was bad...
Sticking with referees, here's how to dish out a red card with absolutely no remorse:
And finally back to 2002, for Rivaldo's hilarious play-acting. Remember? Turkish player flicks ball to Rivaldo for Brazil corner. Ball hits Rivaldo's thigh. Rivaldo collapses holding face, Turkish player sent off:
The title of this post comes from Mick McCarthy, who's just expressed the opinion on BBC1 that he'd rather both teams lost, they've been that bad. Sadly the real loser is the BBC in the DayoRimet goals per game per channel stakes, with ITV having a few cracking games on the way with which to catch up...
What a match Italy v Australia was - a tense 0-0 thriller until the very last minute, no, seconds, at which point the Italians dispatched a penalty to crush Aussie dreams. I only saw the highlights earlier this evening but even then my heart was in my mouth watching that spot kick. That's exactly why World Cups exist.
Forget glorious goals from 30 yards out; forget legions of fans bouncing up and down in German market squares; forget watching every goal from every angle a million times over on TV. It's about those beautiful, everlasting moments in these football matches where time stands still for hundreds of thousands of people all over the globe. There are ten seconds remaining in a game of football. One man is going to kick a ball at a net, and another man is going to try to stop the ball going into the net. One of these men will, almost instantaneously, become a hero to an entire nation of people; the other will sit tremendously, horribly alone on the floor for an eternity. And the globe holds its breath. In that silence, in that stadium, in that split second before the whistle blows for the kick to be taken, there exists magic.
In another stadium in Germany, a bit later on in the day, with two different sets of fans, there exists no magic. Instead, there exists Switzerland and Ukraine, each just rubbish enough to cancel out the other. The pre-match continuity announcer on BBC1 gave an absurdly enthusiastic build-up to this one: "And now on BBC1 it's Switzerland... versus Ukraine... LIVE!" Well, it's still on BBC1 and it's still what passes for technically "live", but it's the other sort of 0-0 - a dreary, hard-fought, talentless, unimaginative affair, a bit like John Major and Edwina Currie. (Did you see that Spitting Image tribute last night? Great stuff. Bring it back.) I need to consult my wallchart and work out if England stand any chance whatsoever of meeting either of these two teams because I swear if there's any team we could beat, it's one of these two. Sadly, I stand by my prediction that Portugal will sweep us aside next week.
Still, in other news Wimbledon has started, a far better prospect for fans of English triumph since there's none of this false hope as we know the English are going to lose heavily, it's just a matter of time and rain. We had former British Davis Cup player Mark Cox on the radio earlier, running through the trio of Berkshire-based players in the men's singles. Alex Bogdanovic, from Basingstoke, is playing Rafael Nadal, from an entirely different cosmos of tennis ability. Nadal is the number two seed. Mark Cox described this as "an opportunity" for Bogdanovic. He did not clarify as to what, precisely, this was an opportunity to do. It is certainly an opportunity to enter the record books for swiftest and heaviest defeat. Is there a Mount Murray yet to go with Henman Hill? Or is the Hill very much a one-off? I don't recall a Rusedski Rump, or at least certainly not one with a few hundred people perched anxiously on it...
Back to the football and at half time between Switzerland and Ukraine, the pundits in the BBC studio discard what few highlights exist in favour of footage of Swedish girls kissing during a match. This is a decision applauded by football fans up and down the country. Former footballer and pundit Leonardo, sat in the BBC studio, suggests the girls "now only need a Brazilian". Genius.
..crack car windscreens! Grr. Yesterday, along the M2 a stone hit my windscreen. It felt rather heavy, so I quickly looked at the windscreen to see if I could see any chips, but all seemed fine. I smiled. This morning my initial observations proved crap. The stone has chipped quite a large area by my wiper and a crack has spread about 4" up the windscreen. Not enough to affect my vision at all, but large enough that I'll need to get it sorted. I was hoping I wouldn't have to bother, but when my Dad came in he said "oh that's a bad-un, luv". Great. In the CAB again tomorrow, but on Wednesday I shall be getting Mr Autoglass to come and do their thing. Direct Line insurance are great, but I still need to find £60 to deal with my excess. When it rains, it pours! (especially since I just cut myself on a tin lid).
Well they tried, those Dutch, they really tried, throwing everything at the Portuguese in the dying moments of this game, but to no avail. But at least the referee didn't let us down, finding it within himself to award a second yellow to Van Bronckhorst, thereby racking up a World Cup record four dismissals in one game (and equalling the record for yellow cards). Graham Poll eat your heart out.
One of the ITV pundits before the game said England would prefer to face Portugal next week. That's nonsense, I'm bloody positive I'd rather have played Holland, who have looked like the sort of team England can beat: good, honest, hard-working play with steely determination and plenty of stamina. We can handle that, it's fairly similar to the way we play. The Portuguese, on the other hand, have got a bit of verve, a jazzy, fluid interpretation of what it means to play the beautiful game, a footballing syncopation, va va voom, call it what you will. You might want to call it 'cheating' and I'd probably agree, but they don't do anything quite by the book, and I reckon that'll completely fox England next week. I'm writing us off already. Don't say I didn't warn you.
The Portugal v Holland last sixteen match is rapidly descending into farce. The record for the number of cards shown in a World Cup finals match is 16, and we've now had at least 15 in this match if not more.
I'll have to check the statistics at the end of the game to be sure, although at this rate it'll probably be abandoned when one team drops below 7 players. It's currently 10 Dutch v 9 Portuguese, and frankly if I were refereeing I'd have sent Figo off earlier too for a headbutt-of-sorts the ref missed. The official is bound to come in for criticism after this one but the players on both sides really, really haven't helped much by being genuinely foul, artificial, conniving, cheating idiots. The game began as a great advert for football but quickly became an indictment of the spirit in which football matches can sometimes take place.
ITV also reckon there've been 15 yellow cards so far (red cards being two yellow, there's not been a straight red as far as I'm aware), so we're one off the record with a good ten minutes remaining, assuming we don't get a Dutch equaliser and head into extra time. Bags of time to smash the record.
DayoRimet #17c: Breakfast's Coming Back, It's Coming Back
Most England fans feel queasy going into every single game, so it's good to see David Beckham now knows how we feel - after scoring what turned out to be the winning goal versus Ecuador, Golden Balls nipped over to the touchline and treated the world to Orange Chunks (also applicable to Wayne Rooney with his dodgy tan).
Anyway, we're through. We can now spend the next few days feigning interest in the likes of Switzerland v Ukraine until we get to the business end of the quarter finals. Ticket touts throughout Germany have just risen as one in celebration, safe in the knowledge that a hundred thousand plonkers will remain camped out in a once-quiet corner of Germany for the next epic England encounter. All hundred thousand will be tipping the piggy-bank upside down and signing up to every CapitalOne mailshot they've ever had in the hope of raising sufficient funds for a seat in the stadium. As the advertising slogan goes, so goes the demand of every tout for the next seven days: "What's in your wallet?"
GOAL! David Beckham finally breaks the deadlock with a swirling free kick which sneaks in between the Ecuadorian goalkeeper's outstretched right hand and the goalpost. It's no exaggeration to say England have been at best worryingly mediocre, at worst gobsmackingly bereft of ideas in this match, but we're 1-0 up and that's what matters.
David Beckham is now the only Englishman to have scored in three different World Cups. I've always said how much I rate him. Best footballer ever, won't hear a bad word said.
Meanwhile Sven is doing his level best to resemble Mike Bassett (of the film Mike Bassett: England Manager, played by Ricky Tomlinson), thumping the side of the dugout in exasperation and pointing to a piece of paper held by Steve McClaren in a way that just screamed: "Hmm... I do not know, Steve... I'll try an A." "No boss, no As in it. You've got a head, a body and the hanging apparatus, three guesses left."
There've been ten games in the World Cup since I last updated the DayoRimet goals per game per TV channel widget on the right (I've been a bit lazy about it, I know). All ten games have been shown on the BBC, although four of them weren't on mainstream not-got-a-red-button terrestrial, so the widget discounts those four. But even in the space of the remaining six games the Beeb have shown remarkable goalscoring consistency - their average has dropped just 0.01 of a goal to 2.52.
That's over a quarter of a goal per game ahead of ITV, way back on 2.24 goals per game at the time of writing. Each channel has now carried 21 games on mainstream terrestrial television, with Auntie smacking 53 goals past various World Cup keepers compared to the third channel's 47.
ITV have only got Portugal v Holland, Italy v Australia, Brazil v Ghana and Spain v France, two quarter-finals and one semi-final to pull back that six-goal deficit. The BBC have got two quarter-finals, one semi-final, England v Ecuador and Switzerland v Ukraine at their disposal.
If England beat Ecuador then ITV will show two semi-finals, since they'll keep their "other" semi-final and will share coverage of the England one with the BBC. But that means both channels will get the same number of goals added to their World Cup tally so it's no use to ITV really. Both channels get the final too, so if ITV are still lagging behijnd after the last semi, they've no comeback (unless they've got the 3rd v 4th game I suppose, but I might disqualify that from the count on the grounds nobody cares).
Looking back at those 'last sixteen' matches, ITV should make good ground on the BBC. The Beeb have got England v Ecuador, in which England are guaranteed to make a meal out of a low-scoring affair and then either lose it or scrape through, and Switzerland v Ukraine, which somehow doesn't ring true as a goalfest. ITV, by contrast, have got Brazil v Ghana, in which the South Americans can be expected to try to burst the net, and Italy v Australia, a cracker of a game in the making. The French are notoriously rubbish at scoring but the Spanish might bring their A game to that one, and Portugal v Holland ought to have some nice attacking football. It's not all over yet.
Well I went to a hen night last night and rather like Ollie I feel as though "my body is a quivering wreck, battered simultaneously by alcohol, sleep deprivation and sheer weight of laughter". But it was a great laugh and lots of fun, even though I think I'm going to go and have an afternoon nap. I wasn't that p*ssed, but I definitely sunk an incredibly quantity of alcohol throughout the evening. At least the man of the household greeted us with pints of water when we got in and then made us bacon butties for breakfast. Needless to say I didn't rush to drive home this morning!
Prior to the hen night yesterday, I accompanied my parents into Canterbury. Actually, we went in separate cars since I would be going off to the hen night, but at least I agreed to go along. Why did I want to keep them company choosing a bed? Let me see? Because perhaps my father would take pity on me and buy me a new skirt and top? And the plan worked. I then bought myself a pair of red shoes. They're actually very tasteful (and a dull red, not bright red) but do have, as my God-Mother described, "a f*ck me heel". Woe betide the first man who sees me wearing them. My Dad passed amusing wisdom on the female psych though: why did you buy red shoes when you don't own anything red, and then get me to buy you a turquoise top and white and turquoise skirt... when you don't have anything else in that colour? No wonder women are always complaining that they don't have enough clothes that "match". Heh.
Question to the world: Is OJ alive? Has Devon engulfed him? Are you lost amid washing and gardening?!
Have you ever had one of those moments where you hear a phrase, or a fact, that you've never heard before in your life, and then hardly a moment passes before you see it somewhere else? And you think to yourself, "How come I have never come across this before in my entire life, and now it seems like it's absolutely everywhere?"
It happens fairly frequently to me and it's just happened again. Yesterday I read an article by Peter Barron, editor of Newsnight, about podcasts, which included this excerpt about the current number one podcast on iTunes:
It's something called Kitcast. Kitcast is, according to the blurb, "a ten minute weekly videoblog covering the world of sex". Each episode, it goes on, is "hosted by a lingerie clad (non-nude) hostess Ms Kitka" - a little red box warns of explicit content.
Ms Kitka. "Interesting name, that," thought I. "No idea where it comes from though. Probably Russian."
Fast forward to this morning and I'm trying to find some decent television to watch (see previous post). The best Sky One can come up with is Supervixens, an exploration of comic book superheroines and the actresses who've appeared as them in the movies and on smaller screens. I only catch the very end, which is about Catwoman. I learn that at least one incarnation of Catwoman had an alter ego known as Ms Kitka!
I go 21 years and 7 months never having once heard the name "Kitka", and in the space of 24 hours I know it serves both as a disguise for Catwoman and the nom de pod for some sex-obsessed woman. Fascinating.
There is nothing on TV at this hour of a Sunday morning.
This is good news since it encourages us all to go and do something mildly productive, like write on the internet about the lack of good television on Sunday mornings. But even so.
Sky Three's "Animal Airport" looked like a viable alternative - I'm a sucker for airport television - but the description didn't really sell me. "A Mastiff en route from Prague to Boston is stopped at Heathrow Animal Reception Centre when staff think it has been over-sedated by its owner." So essentially this would be half an hour spent watching a drowsy dog.
Still, it beats Sky Sports 1: "Cricket Writers On TV". Says the description: "Paul Allott is joined by Mike Dickson, Michael Henderson and Steve James to discuss the cricket stories making the papers and the latest news on and off the field."
Well that's unmissable television. No actual cricket highlights, just three cricket pundits (have you heard of any of them?) and a presenter locked in a darkened studio for a whole hour and a half. Very reminiscent of the Sky Sports show which plonks football writers in a faux-dining room with Jimmy Hill each weekend, for an hour's heart-stopping broadcasting.
Sky have outdone themselves on this one though, since the brand new Sky Sports High Definition channel is also showing "Cricket Writers On TV"! As if ninety minutes of cricket writers talking were somehow not punishment enough, you can choose to watch the discussion with every wrinkle, scowl and nose-hair rendered in unprecedented quality! All you have to do is call 08702 404020 for further information.
Of course this Sunday's even worse than your average Sunday since we have the England v Ecuador World Cup clash this afternoon. Broadcasters have therefore made the wise assumption that most of the television-watching nation is either a) already drunk, b) off getting drunk somewhere, c) out buying supplies with which to get drunk, d) milling around (drunk) amid the wreckage of plastic chairs in a market square in Germany, trying to find a jumbotron television, or e) in a police cell in Germany (drunk) trying to find a jumbotron television.
Oh dear me, what a 24 hours or so. My body is a quivering wreck, battered simultaneously by alcohol, sleep deprivation and sheer weight of laughter. I don't think I've stopped laughing since this time last night, much of it Hitler-cat related.
Not all of it, mind. Some of it was definitely Singstar-related. Singstar is the PlayStation karaoke phenomenon which allows friends to compete against each other singing various eighties anthems (or other tracks depending on the version(s) you purchase). You can see on-screen how close you are to being in tune, how many points you and your opponent have scored, and watch the video for the song with the lyrics at the same time. I can't entirely remember all the songs I did but Kate Bush, 'Running Up That Hill', was definitely involved.
Singstar is great for plain old karaoke but it comes into its own with its unique, hilarious game of 'karaoke pong'. Pong was the seminal early arcade game which took the form of extremely rudimentary computer tennis, using big white blocks to smack a smaller white block from one side of the screen to another and back again. In the Singstar version you use your voice to direct your big white block - 'paddle' - up and down your side of the screen depending on where the ball is travelling (miss the ball and you lose). Emit a high note and your paddle soars upwards; unleash your booming baritone and the paddle plunges lower. It is harder than you think, not least because you end up laughing and the sound of laughter sends your paddle all over the place.
I do have a wonderful sound recording of people playing Singstar pong last night and producing a series of squeaks and growls - I'll try to rescue the audio off my phone at some point.
In other news I can tell you our Ascot Ladies' Day photo gallery received over 100,000 page impressions yesterday, a huge figure, so we're very happy indeed about that. I'll confess, I had my doubts that sixty-plus pictures of hats could hold public attention, but my god have I been proved wrong. If you know an event coming up in Berkshire that'd make a good photo gallery then definitely let me know, they're always immensely popular.
There's likely to be a lack of DayoRimet update tonight since tonight is party night. Instead I give you 'Hitler Cats', a selection of photos of cats which bear a resemblance to Hitler. Laugh, we nearly died.
Well I'm at home in Kent for the summer now (July/August). That's not strictly true I suppose. I'll be in London (or elsewhere) most weeks but I'm making Kent my base (it's much nicer, not to mention cheaper, to sponge off my parents!). I'd also really have a relaxing summer before work. There's things I need to do, people I need to see and stuff I need to sort. I can't believe it really. The working world looms (but so does finding some sexy young man to go out with... so that's quite a fun challenge too...) I'm also going to go back to the CAB for one or more days a week, and I'll be involved, rather inevitably, in DofE stuff. I know I could have build an orphanage in Bosnia, mended wells in Africa or travelled the world. But perhaps I just want to be utterly selfish for a change and just to do things I want to do and relax. So that's that really.
Daisy (I haven't mentioned her for a while) consumed a whole mouse earlier. And then she was sick. I think we have a cat with Bulimia.
Oh dear me. The English football team haven't covered themselves in glory yet but they've got some way to go before they match the achievement of referee Graham Poll, who entirely lost the plot towards the back end of tonight's game between Croatia and Australia.
The Croatians missed out thanks to an Australian equaliser (final score: 2-2) so it's the Aussies going into the knockout stages alongside Brazil. It's the first time the Australian side have managed that, and it's also the first time a player has been booked three times in a game before being sent off. The Croatian Simunic had been booked earlier in the game before being given a second yellow towards the end of normal time by Poll - but no red card, so Simunic didn't bother walking.
A few minutes later Simunic committed another offence and Poll booked him again! This time, out came the red.Better late than never, Graham.
Harry Kewell's goal - the one that took Australia through - was probably offside too. A bit of an officiating shambles, this one, but what a gripping game.
Well, I'll confess the supposed ultimate football match between Holland and Argentina became so boring I drifted off to sleep for most of the second half. I gather I didn't miss much. Occasionally the world's greatest competition can flatter to deceive (just ask Michael Owen, I suppose).
There's a lovely piece on the Mexican national side on the twohundredpercent blog:
I'm thoroughly enjoying Mexico's stay at the World Cup, because, in an era when everything else often appears to be becoming more and more homogenized, Mexico are inscrutably, indefatigably, defiantly mad. Well, they're inscrutably, indefatigably, defiantly Mexican. But it's the same difference. This is, after all, the country that gave the world tequila, chili, peyote and the sombrero. Why should we expect anything less?
Since it's confession time, I'll also admit my finger is slipping from the World Cup pulse day by day thanks to Royal Ascot. I'm writing daily online updates on the racing here so I end up watching horses all day instead of the football. Happily Ascot wraps itself up just in time for England to play Ecuador on Sunday so normal service will be resumed over the weekend.
Finally, off the sporting track entirely and did you notice MyCokeMusic is closing? As a subscriber with some credits left I got an email off them letting me know a couple of days ago. How embarrassing for Coke, thoroughly thrashed by iTunes despite the global marketing campaign. Not that I expect it's made too much a dent in their business. In fact I should imagine the only people left short-changed by the whole affair are the end users as per the norm.
Still, it's not stopping me enjoying music as I long since defected to the once-despised iTunes. Many purchases tonight in a fit of excess: Keane "Under The Iron Sea", Nelly Furtado "Maneater" (oh how I love her), Captain "Broke" (keep getting sent their press releases so I thought I might as well, and it's quite good), The Automic "Monster" (saw them at T4 On The Beach and liked it), Nerina Pallot "Everyone's Going To War" (heard it on the radio so often I've started enjoying it, which is the exact opposite of the usual effect overexposure has on me) and finally Hope Of The States "Left". That's an entire new album and my god I'm so pleased. I played their first album, "The Lost Riots", to death two years ago. That was when I was in Portugal for the European Championships. Hope Of The States are obviously a band who like to release their records as soundtracks to major footballing competitions.
Sweden have equalised. My World Cup predicting ability - see below - remains in tatters. It's 2-2 and within minutes England are right back in the mire of media cynicism and speculation. It's not been an overly convincing performance anyway, without letting in a soft goal from a throw-in.
And there's still some injury time left. Those Germans are lurking in the shadows at this rate...
A Steven Gerrard header! There's an unlikely one. Normally when he scores it's from 40 yards out and becomes a guaranteed goal-of-the-season/tournament/decade/millennium contender. This one was solid if unspectacular, but it'll certainly do.
So, 2-1 to England! Five minutes remaining. Before the game - and Amy can attest to this - I predicted a 2-1 England win. It's looking like for once in my life I'll have been bang on the money with a prediction. Shame I'm not a gambling man (and neither's Sven - Gerrard on instead of Walcott much to my disappointment, but look how that's paid off).
I have always said Joe Cole is rubbish. I saw him play for West Ham against Manchester City a good few years ago and he had an abysmal game - I couldn't understand why so many people rated him. And I never saw an improvement at Chelsea either. I've been talking rubbish, the man's a living legend, I'm converted. I'll even stick an England flag on my car for him.
Why no Theo Walcott when Owen went off injured in the first minute? Crouch is on a yellow card so we're risking his participation in the first knockout game by sending him on as a replacement. This would have been the perfect game to send young Theo on and give him some experience, or even a goal if he got lucky. It seems a shame he's missed out - maybe he'll get a chance later on though, with the second half just underway.
As for Amy, sod Top Of The Pops. Popworld is where all the cool kids are at these days in terms of clunky old terrestrial music shows. The BBC are now going to be able to drop the ailing behemoth and focus on nimble, fleet-of-foot broadcasts - from big events like Reading festival to smaller affairs demanding ease of mobility like guerrilla gigs.
As I type, England have just scored a goal against Sweden. The commentator has just said, "who needs a right leg when you can do it with a left leg like that". Whatever. Anyway, apparently it is a "major goal of the tournament". Anyway, I've just got back to London from Kent. 45mins flat. No traffic. Nothing. It was wonderful to drive when everyone else was watching football! I sincerely recommend it!
In other news, Top Of The Pops is being axed after 42years on BBC. A sign of the times I suppose, but a whole generation of children will grow up without it! Travesty!
So, you thought people with England flags on their cars were beyond help. And you were right. But spare extra thought for individuals so consumed with inflagtuation that they end up in this state:
No, you know what? Forget that. Tonight is Hopeless England Flag Amnesty Night (HEFAN for short) and England will be hoping for a heavenly victory, or even a point, against Sweden. We've not beaten the Swedes since the dawn of time so it could be a tall order - Peter Crouch pun here - but it's got to be worth trying. If we win or draw we get Ecuador in the next round; lose and it's Germany. Losing is not an option.
Over the weekend I forgot to mention a lovely bit of radio I heard last Saturday. The BBC Big Screen had turned up at RAF Fairford, the US airbase tucked inside British soil, ahead of the Italy v USA game. But Portugal v Iran was the first game of the day to be shown on the screen, and the Big Screen team have a policy of hoisting the flags of the two competing nations on either side of the jumbotron during the match. Thus Radio Five Live asked the US commander at the base for his thoughts on the inevitable raising of an Iranian flag on US military soil! A concept he actually handled incredibly well.
A spot of admin: the DayoRimet goals-per-game-per-TV-channel count has now been updated after a few days' neglect. Where a channel has more than one game being broadcast simultaneously (e.g. ITV have tonight got England v Sweden on ITV1 and Paraguay v Trinidad & Tobago on ITV4), only the game carried on terrestrial television will count towards the goal totals.
I'll be back after the game to preview the next step in what must, surely, be England's year. Arf arf.
Back to the DayoRimet action then, after a short interlude during which I popped up on a beach in Somerset listening to what youngsters today might refer to as, er, bangin' choons. T4 on the Beach was an extremely good day out and it comes recommended by me to anyone, especially if you've got a family to entertain.
So we've missed a few matches during my absence but if we're honest, no one really cared about them anyway, bar the game involving France since a good number of English fans wouldn't mind seeing them leave the competition. Not that this should be much of a shock given the mighty struggle the French endure simply to score a single goal in the World Cup, let alone qualify for the knockout stage or win it. Spain look like more of a threat, as do Italy, and that's without even leaving western Europe. One look at South America and the English have tail firmly between legs.
Let's hope we buck our ideas up against Sweden tomorrow. On paper they're the first side we're facing who could do real damage, particularly given our abysmal track record against them, so we want no larking around, an early goal and a clean sheet for Robinson.
The BBC put together a beautiful montage of World Cup highlights so far to mark the halfway stage in the competition. If it surfaces on YouTube - unlikely but not impossible - I'll link to it, it's well worth viewing. Almost enough to bring a tear to the eye. Especially if you're the poor BBC employee sat there piecing it together for two days only to see it frittered away like a Montgomerie lead in a major at the end of Spain v Tunisia.
On YouTube tonight we have two hilarious ladies from oop north who are so famous, they're in the Rochdale Observer. Earlier they posted an anti-World Cup song on the internet which had something to do with sealions. Forget that, I'm not going to show you that. This is their second video, where they bask in the glory the first one brought them:
And from Germany itself we have your worst nightmare. An endless conveyor belt of Dutch football fans. Seriously, hell hath no fury like a never-ending orange mass of Holland hopefuls and hooters:
More tomorrow night during the England game of course.
Not quite as dramatic as that, actually. My exam today was a real b*tch. Some questions which you just knew you had nailed, and others which you had no idea about. We aren't allowed to leave in the first 30mins, or the last 15mins. With 20mins to go I had done all I could. Even if I had done more work this weekend, all things considered I doubt I would have answered the questions any better. I may perhaps have been able to spend the remaining 20mins perfecting my answers, but I wasn't in the right frame of mind. I left with 16mins to go. I aiming for 51%. Let's keep those fingers crossed. The hardest exam is on Wednesday. Then I too will probably have a drink or two. Lucky OJ for finishing already! B*astard!
So I've finally finished my course, with a three hour exam this morning. In the spirit of finals last year, here are my questions:
Section A
1: Was Frederick Jackson Turner's noton of the 'exceptionalism' of American experience his most valuable contribution to historical scholarship?
7: How advantageously did Bernard Bailyn and those influenced by his work weave a consideration of ideology into their studiyes of the revolutionary era and the early republic?
Section B
9: Have the New Western Historians suceeded in transcending a 'good guys/bad guys' approach to their subject?
These were the three questions I wanted to come up. The first two were great but, despite at least three weeks of study on New Western History, I still don't have a clue about what the hell they are talking about. I assumed they were talking about Indians, and wrote as much as I could in the half hour I had left. Eheu. The first two were good though. Anyway, after a week without alcohol, I'm off to get even more drunk! Woo! Have already done punting and pool...
It's odd. We all know I've had an eating disorder, so it comes as no surprise if I have days where I don't eat much (very rare though now). However, ironically when I'm down/low/depressed I generally comfort eat. But this weekend is the first time that events have meant my body has been in utter turmoil. My stomach is a knot. I just don't want to eat. Everything makes me feel sick. And I've an exam tomorrow so have to work and need the energy to get through the next 24hrs. And what do I turn to? A good old tin of Ambrosia rice pudding. Forget the advert on TV for "we all love clover" where everyone cries. Rice Pudding is by far the best thing!
The Post Office. Been on their website lately? You wouldn't ever guess that the Post Office actually sold stamps and sent post around the country. No wonder the damn post never arrives - the Post Office seem to have forgotten that they should be dealing with it. On the website until you actually scroll down the page, all you can find out about is insurance, phone contracts and "flowers and gifts" (? wtf). Even on google the description of the website reads "The Post Office - Providing home, car and travel insurance, foreign currency exchange, banking, investments and bill payments." Nothing to do with the actual post then? I had to scroll down the front page and then click through three different pages before I found how I could send something with guaranteed next day delivery and how much it would cost. Incidentally, it's £4.10 to send something Special Delivery. Serves me right for forgetting to send a damn good luck card sooner.
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It would appear that the Royal Mail is the best place to look. But answer this. If you want to track something it asks you for your "13 digit reference number". Well, my "13 digit number" actually includes four letters. But apparently they are now numbers. Go figure.
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With the contents of this post, and the last... I don't think anyone should cross me today...they won't know what has hit them!!
Yesterday I went to the Michelangelo exhibition at the British Museum. For anyone who has been in London lately you won't have been able to miss the posters in the tubes, the adverts in Time Out or the free books about Michelangelo with the Standard. So, since I adore the Sistene Chapel, and since it seemed the exhibition of the season to go and see, we trotted off yesterday. OK, so the exhibition has had amazing reviews, so much so that they are opening until Midnight on the last day due to high demand. And it's clear to see why. The sketches are amazing. The detail, the study of the human body (especially male) are incredibly impressive, especially when you step back and realise that these were drawn in the 1400s-1500s. But that aside, the exhibition annoyed me. Forget the quality of what was being displayed, just think about the display itself. The area of the exhibition was tiny considering the amount on display and the volume of people visiting. Just because the sketches are small, doesn't mean you can't give them lots of space. The comments on each drawing were annoying too - they weren't remotely critical. Every comment seemed sycophantic and after a while I wanted to read something critical. I mean, he clearly couldn't draw women (unless you've seen lots of women with breasts stuck on the body like tennis balls and spread so far apart across the chest that the look as though they are about to fall off) but did anyone recognise this fact? No, they simply tell you he was homosexual and this is meant to excuse him from drawing women. So that was that. Amazing, but I think the British Museum could have done better with their presentation.
And then weI went to see the Taming of the Shrew by the Shakespeare Company at Regent's Park Open Air Theatre. Amazing. I'd never been to RP before, and it's lovely. It has beautiful rose gardens, flowered avenues and lovely fountains. Quite different to any of the other London parks. And of course it is in North London. So that means that there are fewer tourists and more locals. Since yesterday was such a lovely day the park was very busy - reading groups, yoga classes, anything which would generally be associated with the slightly more bohemian and relaxed side of North London. It makes West London seem worlds apart. The snobbery and the Sloane expression miles away. The Theatre itself was very enjoyable. The production itself was great and the atmosphere in the Theatre itself was wonderful - very relaxed, very united, you could enjoy your picnic in the grounds around it. Certainly something I would go and see again without a doubt (different play, of course!).
