Scottish Independence

 

I’m English, but I know Scotland better than most Englishmen do. I grew up there on account of my dad’s job, and to this day I support a Scottish football team, Dundee United. This means I still have many, especially online, Scottish friends, both from my childhood, and from the world of football. Whilst I’m not Scottish myself, I certainly have a bit of a handle on the place, including the abounding ‘arrogant English bastards’ mentality.

Everyone has their prejudices, the English hate the French, the French hate the English, the Canadians hate America, The Mancs hate the Scousers, the South hates the North, and on it goes, but this Scottish independence thing is bugging me right now. Not because I don’t want them to be independent, frankly I couldn’t give a flying fuck one way or the other, what’s bugging me is that Scotland seems to think that we (English) are shitting ourselves somehow about them breaking away. I can tell you as a proud Englishmen that a) no-one here gives a fuck if you do or don’t and b) no one here thinks it would be bad, good or indifferent for England.  

I’m from the north of England, Hull to be precise, and London/Whitehall has been fucking us just as much as them since time immemorial. Do Scots think your average Scouser, Yorkshireman or Geordie has much time for the goings on in London? Do you think they’d tell the lot of them to ‘get to fuck’ at the first opportunity? The English government is London-and-the-South-centric. Thatcher is hated in Scotland, well, take a walk around Liverpool, or Newcastle, or Leeds and ask about the old fucking witch. The answers will be the same.

I’ve got a Scottish pal, who shall remain nameless here, who when England are playing football, against anyone, starts banging on about the ‘English bastards’, and Highland clearances, and William Wallace and all that stuff.

Anyway, the upshot is this. No-one really cares other than the Scots, who are doing a massive ‘fuck you’ to England, so they think, but us English, we don’t give a fuck if you stay or go, it’s that simple.

Just to confirm, I’m not anti-Scottish, quite the opposite, but as for this ‘England is shitting itself at the prospect’ thing? Not a fucking chance. We simply don’t care.

Five Movies That I Rate That You May Have Missed

Let me start by saying I’m not that much of a film buff. I do watch a few movies here and there, and some of these below I may have watched some time ago, not like this week or anything! Some are fairly modern, some are not. But I highly recommend all of the following…

Mary and Max (2009)

This is one of those claymation efforts, like Wallace and Gromit, though it’s not for kids, well, young kids anyway. Brilliantly funny, amazingly animated, and a true story. It’s narrated by Barry Humphries, who you may know better as Edna Everidge. Mary is a young girl in Melbourne, who decides, at random, to write to a stranger in the USA.

Escape from Sobibor (1987)

This is a TV movie about the Sobibor Death Camp in Nazi-occupied Poland in WW2, with Rutger Hauer and Alan Arkin - both solid actors,. Way better than your usual made-for-TV productions, it pulls no punches about the bleakness and harsh realities of a death camp in WW2. Hardly cheerful, but very good. Unavailable on DVD I believe, but it’s downloadable, and also the whole thing is on YouTube.

Match Point (2005)

Written and directed by Woody Allen, though not a comedy, and not the kind of movie you’d typically associate with him. A dialogue driven thriller, full of twists and turns, with a great finale. In my opinion a good movie starts and ends with a good script. This is one of those movies.

Lilya 4-Ever (2002)

As bleak a movie as you will ever see, and mesmerising with it. It’s about the sex trade - not a fun topic. Set in Estonia, and all in Russian, this gives an insight to everyday life in a poorer part of Eastern Europe, and what fate might bring if you take a wrong turn. Very, VERY grim from start to finish, but spellbinding and heart-wrenching nonetheless. Incidentally, despite the subject matter, there’s barely any nudity in this movie; having said that, it’s definitely not for the faint hearted, easily offended, or youngsters. It will stick in your head for days.

Double Indemnity (1944)

Yes that does say 1944! I saw this a few months ago as it’s listed on IMDb’s Top 250 at number 54 – i.e. very highly regarded, and rightly so. Walter is an insurance salesman, and an ‘average Joe’, who has an affair, and together they plot to kill her husband and collect the insurance. It has one of those jaw dropping plot twists in the middle which I love. A great movie, with wisecracking 1940s dialogue all the way through, which, if I’m honest, dates the movie terribly, but even that cannot detract from a masterpiece.

Suicide Lyrics Might Be Just What You Need – My Top 10 Northern Soul Dancefloor Bangers

What the world needs right now is another fucking indie guitar band right? Fucking wrong. If I hear one more wistful solo acoustic guitar intro, I swear I’m going to prison.

I also can’t abide ‘fandom’. I’m not really a fan of anyone or anything (football teams aside, which is different and relates to regional rivalries). Not because I’m above it or anything like that, I simply don’t get it. For example, I knew a girl years ago who was a huge fan of the Pet Shop Boys. She liked EVERYTHING that they did – every song, every haircut, every album cover, everything. To me, this just seems like a kind of blinkered positive prejudice. Being a fan of people, I just don’t get it. Like some of their stuff? Sure. Everything they’ve ever produced? Come on, that’s impossible.

OK, I started this update because I wanted to list my Top 10 1960s soul tracks. This might seem like hypocrisy, having seen the above – and I am, I guess, a fan of this genre – but I’m not a fan of any of the people involved, either on the scene or behind the music. I don’t feel negatively towards them either, I just like the songs, that’s all. Northern Soul suits me just fine. The records are, by and large, anonymous, even though you may see the name on the label. Who are ‘The Epitome of Sound’ or ‘The De-Lites’? We’ll probably never know. And that’s just the way I like it. Also, in regard to time – it’s static, that is, it’s nearly all 60s and 70s soul. Furthermore, in England anyway, it was all popular long after it was made – a retro scene. Which means new music only meant newly discovered tracks, not new music per se. Liking something just because it’s new is another hang-up of mine. New does not necessarily equate to ‘better’.

What makes a good Northern Soul track, you may (not) be wondering? Well, it’s a dance genre, if you can’t dance to it, it ain’t Northern. That’s not strictly true, but we’ll go with it for now. Suicide lyrics are often a winner too. ‘My baby left me and I’m gonna throw myself under a train.’ Not an uncommon theme. Sad songs when you’re sad, right?

So without further ado, here are my current (it changes) Top ten 1960s Northern Soul sounds, in no particular order. Also, because this is a blog not a statistics log, I’m gonna tell you about each one’s personal history to me, if there is one, or about the track. Or something…

The Epitome of Sound – You Don’t Love Me

Quite possibly the finest song from the entire decade, of any genre. I first heard this when I shared a flat with a good old buddy of mine Raymie up in Dundee. That was back in the days of cassettes, and I literally wore the tape (his!) out listening to this. Unfortunately for anyone who spends any time with me, I’m one of those people who, if I find a song I love, plays it until I’m sick of it, which is usually long after everyone else has become sick of it. This song is in many a Northern Soul fan’s top ten. And mine. The lyrics? We’ve all been there…

The De-Lites – Lover

Don’t know much about this, other than owning an original copy will set you back the price of a family car. A modern-ish discovery for me, no story – just liked it on my headphones. Love the simplicity of it. Simple. Dancefloor. Banger. I would sprint to the dancefloor if I heard this (unlikely) in some club.

Tommy Navarro – I Cried My Life Away

Poor old Tommy. He’s wasted his whole life chasing one girl, who up and went off with someone else, then he wrote a song about it. Suicide lyrics aplenty. Strictly speaking, this is a kind of Latino 60s soul track. But hey, genre boundaries do overlap, and you’ll hear this at many a Northern Soul night. This is probably the song that I sing to myself the most. Not because I’ve cried my own life away, it’s just catchy as hell. I used to hear this song at various Soul nights and didn’t know what it was – I even used to sing it to people to try and find out. Eventually did. What a story.

Little Nicky Soul – I Wanted To tell You

She’s a bad girl, and Nicky wanted to warn you. This song is virtually perfect. The vocals, the backing singers, the melody, the ‘swing’ of it, the lush guitar overlays, everything. I’m no musician and don’t know all the terminology, but hey, this is just flawless.

The Spidells – Like a Bee

Love hurts. Stings like a bee in fact. This was favourite track last year on my hollybags traipsing around Lao. Reminds me of cheap whisky, Beer Lao, jungles and girls. Well one girl in particular. 100 plays on my iTunes here, still not sick of it. Simple, spacious, and dripping with ‘it’. A stunning, gorgeous track. This is the kind of Northern Soul that those who like ‘jazz, funk and soul’ don’t get. It’s not jazzy or funky. Don’t get me started on jazz and funk, not if you wanna go home before dawn. Not a fan.

The Servicemen – I Need a Helping Hand

One day God (I’m not religious) made some backing singers, the finest in all Christendom. He said “Go forth, and find ye The Servicemen and ye shall be remembered for evermore by working class blokes from up North.” And they did. When the backing vocals kick in on this, my jaw drops and my body hair tingles. Nice xylophone intro too. Reminds me of the Philippines 2010, where it played into my ears the whole trip. Drunk, girls, dancing, nightclubs, meeting my good friend Alex. Good times to a great song. This is probably my number one song right now. I just don’t get sick of it.

The Charades – Key To My Happiness

Short at 2 minutes and 9 seconds, but a spine-tingling electrifying blast of awesomeness. Rolling piano riffs, a ‘wall of sound’ type production full of atmosphere, and a singer who wants to repossess the key to his happiness. Interesting. Another ‘lost that girl’ song.

Clyde McPhatter – Since You’ve Been Gone

Clyde’s in trouble. His girl has left him, and wants to get under a train, which I’m told is not a good idea. Again, not strictly a Northern track this one, more of an early 60s R’n’B number. Thumpingly fast tempo, great singing, suicide lyrics – the winning combination. The kind of thing you’ll hear at a Mod’s do. MODS! Don’t get me started on them either. Funny little men in fancy dress who think they’re better than you.

The Oxford Knights –I’m Such a Lonely One

Nice organ and brass intro, and you guessed it, suicide lyrics. Take your wistful acoustic guitar ramblings and ram them up your indie hipster ass. This has that banging tempo that you need at 3am in a roomful of sweaty blokes off their heads on…

The Vibrating Vibrations – Surprise Party for Baby

I like this. To be honest, it’s a ‘nothing special’ kinda track. The lyrics are unusual for this type of tune – a guy is organising a surprise party for his woman and is worried if she will show up. Just a nice track, and probably the most ‘Motown’ sounding track on this list.

Jazzers, funkers, hipsters, acoustic guitar philosophers, and especially Mods can kiss my sweaty balls. That’s all folks.

The Shawshank Redemptions

Aren’t these internets great? Here you are, reading my printout, and you might be anywhere; Colorado, Bognor, Lucky Slap or Cockermouth, and I’m in Korea. The southern one. (I was back in England at Christmas, and lost count how many people genuinely asked “North or South Korea?”) Back to my point. Internets…

These days, computer technologicalisation rules. The web two point oh. User updates - like this one - user reviews, user input. No longer do I have to read a (probably paid) reviewer, or the advertising, to decide if I’m to buy a product, and anyway now I can steal it off the internets. But before I steal it, I can actually check if it’s any good or not, from real people.

You might use another, but one ‘real people’ site I use is the Internet MovieDatabase (IMDb) for my movie informations. I especially like the user rating – a simple mark out of ten. It’s usually a fairly accurate reflection of whether the movie you want to plunder is worth the download. But, be warned, I’ve had some Warninks. Just a little advocaat joke there.

When looking at the ratings I always consider a couple of things:

• If it’s a comedy – add a mark, because comedy is very much a matter of personal taste. A good movie is a good movie, but one man’s joke is another man’s groan (see “Warnink’s” above). Comedy movie gets 6.7? Think 7.7.
• New movies often get a higher rating because gushy young blabbermouths dash home and give the movie they just watched in the cinema 10/10 because it was, like, awesome.

Also on the wonderful IMDb, is a list, by user rating, of the top 250 movies of all times. As you’d expect, the top twenty is festooned with an array of cinematic exemplars: ‘The Godfather’, ‘The Good, the Bad and the Ugly’, ’12 Angry Men’, and so on, all rightfully lauded artworks. However, one thing irks me. The bloody Shawshank Redemption! How in the name of holy fucks is that the number one rated (by users!) movie of all time? It’s a damn fine flick, great in fact, but the best ever? Who in their right flipping minds can say ‘TSR’ is better than, say, ‘Citizen Cane? Better than ‘Goodfellas’? ‘Taxi Driver’?

Maybe it’s those fancy words in the title? Maybe people like the over-riding message of freedom and justice (rather than the film’s actual technical merits)? I don’t know. I can’t help thinking that those who rate it so highly have only seen about six films in their entire lives, because there is no way whatsoever that TSR is better than most of the other 249 on the list.

To summarise then. Is TSR a good movie? Undoubtedly. Is it the best movie ever? Absolutely fucking no chance. If you think so, go and watch ‘City of God’ (number 18 on the list) and explain to me why TSR is the better film.

Just When You Thought...

It seems, sometimes, that every time I try to do something positive for myself, the world conspires against me to stop me achieving it! Let me give you an example.

A few years ago I was walking under some scaffolding alongside a building when a disabled person started walking towards me. I, trying to be a good Samaritan, did everything I could to get out of the way of this person, and let him by. I proceeded to walk on, only for my brand new, expensive jacket to snag on the scaffolding and tear from shoulder to waist! I hate it when you do something positive, and the world shits in your mouth!

Now I’m not moping, I have a wry smile writing this, I’m not depressed but check this lot out…

Four weeks ago I started studying for an online Masters Degree. In the first week my PC monitor went kaput and I had to fork out for a new one. Since then, my 500GB hard drive, which I’ve had for years with no problem, has also been on the blink.

One of my best friends back home died of cancer after a long illness. Not good.

I was told I have demo class (very stressful and time consuming) two weeks ago, right in the middle of my studying – normally you would get six weeks notice for a demo class.

My demo class was today, and this morning before setting off to work I opened an email from my sister to say my poor old mother has been hospitalised!

Now, world, why don’t you stop it! My mum doesn’t deserve to be ill, I didn’t need all the computer problems (why now??!!?), my friend didn’t deserve to die, and you should have told me about open class bloody months ago! (it went OK but I lost so much study time grrrrr).

Oh, and I have a cold.

Get well soon Mum. Love you.

Rest of the world? Kiss my arse until you can treat me better ;)

Things I Can’t Do

There are millions of things I can’t do. I can’t tightrope, juggle or skateboard. I tried skateboarding once. Hospital. I can’t play darts, snowboard or ski. I tried skiing once. Hospital. I could, and no doubt you also could, fill this page with things we cannot do.

Some things I can’t do, but believe I could do, if I had the time and patience, like play a musical instrument. I reckon I’m quite musical. I’ve always loved music, and dancing, I can whistle a tune, I can even sing a bit, but I’ve never had the patience and stick-to-it-ness to play an instrument.

And I’m not that bothered.

However, there’s one thing I wish I could do, but I can’t, and that’s draw. I can’t draw to save my life. I’m jealous of people who can knock up a funny face in a few seconds with a few lines. I long to be able to sit and draw, well, anything. When I draw something, it looks like a spastic did it on an etch-a-sketch whilst riding a bus over an assault course.

I think I’m quite a creative chap. I write, I’ve done a fair bit of design work, I have a degree in the arts, I’ve made ‘art’, not the traditional kind but art nonetheless. I’ve dabbled a wee bit in music, and drama too, so I do have a creative bent, but dammit I wish I could draw.

Now, no advice please, no suggesting I go to drawing class, or practice this-or-that, because I fucking know already. It’s not that I couldn’t improve, I know I could, but I’d only go from terrible to mediocre – in short, I still wouldn’t be able to draw. 

I believe that drawing is an inherited ability, like being funny, or musical, or a good at sports. Some people, no matter how much they practice, will always look like an ironing board on a dancefloor. Comedy is the same. I’ve tried a little comedy acting, and I worked with some very funny people (one of whom passed away this week – RIP DW), and their comic timing was, in my opinion, in-built. A gift. A talent. Comic acting relies on that innate timing that funny people have. We are all funny sometimes, but genuinely funny people are funnier more often. Georg Christoph Lichtenberg said

“Everyone is a genius at least once a year.  The real geniuses simply have their bright ideas closer together.”

In my opinion comedy is the same – everyone is funny once a year, but… Incidentally, Lichtenberg was a German scientist.

So that’s it. I can’t draw, and I wish I could. I can however, spell. It’s my own personal theory, and I have no evidence other than personal experience to back this up, that you can either draw or spell. Are you good at spelling? Can you draw? Are you good at drawing? Can you spell? Bet you can’t do both well.

Now, go and check my entire oeuvre for errors, you pedant!

News Round Up

A blog about nothing in particular.

Normally I’m ranting about something I have a strong opinion about, like electric sliding doors (WHICH I F**KING HATE! Because they always close on you or break your stride and serve no purpose other than looking swish. A f**king spring will auto-close a door for f**k’s sake) or hand dryers that don’t dry your hands. This isn’t one of those rants, unless I think of something while I’m writing and it ends up that way.

So wot’s bin apnin? Petman is leaving. Nick is one of those guys I’ve known almost all the time I’ve been out here. He, I, and 2 or 3 others hung around together endlessly, and he’s the first one of the ‘gang’ to leave. So that’s a bit sad. I wish him well as he goes back to the UK to study. As one door closes…an electric one traps your hand.

It’s getting a little cooler out here in Korea. Autumn is creeping up. Actually running up. The seasons change quite quickly out here. It’s been a weird year, weather-wise. Monsoons and landslides in what-was-supposed-to-be summer, followed by baking heat followed by autumn. Throw in two weeks where I got frazzled in Laos and my skin will celebrate the onset of these cooler days. My skin hates everything. Mosquito bites? Skin sulks, itches, and swells up. And itches some more. Sunshine? I look like I’ve been in a nuclear accident, leaving a trail of flakes wherever I go. I think I was a ginger in a previous life. Incidentally, I have a cure for mosquito bite itchiness. Toothpaste! Works a treat for me. I literally never travel without an extra tube, just for bites. Mosquitoes love me. The little bastards. I hate them. And any twat that thinks I’ve incorrectly used the word literally, can f**k off. When I say ‘travel’, I mean TRAVEL, not get a f**king bus into town.

I’m starting a Masters Degree soon. This means I’ll be busy. I like being busy. I am at heart, like many people, a little lazy. But give me something to do and I’ll get it done. I’m a little worried about doing this MA, cuz it’s in teaching, and I’m not 100% sure I wanna be a teacher forever, but meh! It’s only an 18 month course. I can always switch in a few years if I change my mind. See I told you this blog was about nothing in particular.

I have a guitar. Can’t play the guitar, but I have one, courtesy of the aforementioned Nick Petman. Thanks! I’m trying to tune it right now. I’d be as well enlisting Helen Keller’s assistance for all the expertise I have. Mind you, my iPhone has an app for tuning guitars. Technology is amazing these days isn’t it?

Right that’s enough talking about nothing. Be well, wherever you are.