It's nearly nine o'clock on Friday evening. My idiot brother is singing out of tune while playing incoherently on his guitar downstairs. My father is playing a piece of music called "Le Onde" very badly on the piano because he doesn't have lessons anymore and doesn't get chance to practice. The central heating pipes are banging and tapping away because they are old and have needed to be replaced for years. Incredibly, fireworks are STILL being set off almost a week after the firework night about which I complained so much a few posts ago.

Oh, and some jerk is rattling away on a laptop keyboard so that he can moan about it all to the rest of the world...

Amazingly "white noise of the central UK region" was not the chosen topic of today's post. I thought you'd all love to hear about the book that I have been reading devotedly these last few days, the one that is going to change my life totally (or something). There was an episode of Friends where Ross got hold of a well known confidence book called How To Win Friends And Influence People, and all hillarity ensues. Well I've now got my own, slightly more modern version of that, to make an idiot of myself for. Entitled How To Talk To Anyone, it is perhaps rather obviously a self-help book about being more comfortable talking with people and so forth, something that your loyal correspondent has never been even slightly comfortable doing (except when it's in an international setting with anyone in the world being able to see what I say, of course... then it's dead easy...)

I know what you're thinking. Aren't these self help books the sort of thing rushed out by publishers to pump money out of sad loners who prefer to read about life rather than actually living it? Well I normally think so too, but this is actually a really useful guide to human social behaviour and how to interact when things don't come naturally. Even if you are naturally an extrovert, you may be surprised how much stuff you should or shouldn't do whether you want to make serious business moves or just make friends: there are so many subtlties and nuancies to our interaction that its scary for anyone like me who doesn't know exactly what he's doing. So in that context, a book like this is actually a marvellous relief. I haven't really had chance to try it all out yet (suggestions cover everything from what to do at parties to how to set an answering machine message that is to your best advantage) but it clearly all makes sense. You can look forward to a full update when I have chance to try it out. By golly I'll bet you can't wait.

Anyway The West Wing is now on so I'll have to leave it there (the dialogue moves so fast on this that unless it gets my full attention I have no chance...), except to alert you to the other thrilling purchase made by yours truly the other day. I finally got the fifth season of The Simpsons on DVD, which I've been wanting to get for months. Its full of episodes that I've seen hundreds of time, but they are all classics so its just great to have them there whenever I fancy watching them. Quote of the day is from "Homer Goes To College": 'The bee bit my bottom and now my bottom's big!'

If you don't know what that's about then perhaps its best not to ask...

Seeya

SIMARK

Hmm that sounds like a good title for a movie... Or maybe not. As it happens, the two elements of today's title are not actually linked by anything other than the fact that they were the first things that came into your humble reporter's mind when thinking of what rubbish to bombard you with for this post. The Pink Panther refers to the film of the same name, which we sat through the other night (and as anyone knows, when the viewing of a film is talked of in terms such as "sat through", you know it aint good); while the exercise ball is, surprisingly, an exercise ball that I bought the other day. But more on that later.

The idiot brother who has been mentioned occasionally on here before, this time took it upon himself to buy The Pink Panther DVD boxset, containing four good films, one rather so-so film, two films that don't even have Peter Sellers (the star of the series and by far the biggest reason it was such a success) in them, and missing one film that is argueably the best of the series. So all in all it's a bit of a rough deal, but then that's the way it always will be until the movie studios can finally work out that it would be better for everyone if they just shared their rights when two of them own different movies of the same series. I have a boxset of the complete Laurel and Hardy that is missing some of their work, because it belongs to a different studio, and somehow they obviously believed it would be in their interests to publish that individually rather than have it included in the huge set that all L+H fans would be getting. But I digress.

I am not sure how universally known the Pink Panther series of films is, so perhaps a brief introduction is in order. The films have undoubtedly one of the most famous theme tunes ever composed, and the cartoon panther that carried out his adventures over the opening credits even went on to get his own show. The Pink Panther was actually not a cat at all, but a massively valued diamond with a tiny flaw in the shape of, yes you guessed it, a pink panther. The films centered on the misadventures of bumbling French policeman Inspecter Clouseau, almost all of the laughs coming from the acting of Peter Sellers in the role of Couseau, and the consequences that came from the character's ineptitude. In that sense there are some similarities between this and The Naked Gun trilogy, which also featured a bumbling policeman causing hilarity wherever he went. However there are marked differences, not least that the latter doesn't need the central character to have a silly foreign accent. That said there are some extremely funny moments over the course of the series.

The problem is that this first installment was extraordiarily slow out of the starting blocks. In a two hour movie, the first hour is basically entirely forgettable, featuring constant switching between scenes that were cut too short and involving so many people that you don't get a chance to get involved with the story. After the first hour things start to pick up, and it is notable that this is when Sellers starts to get more of the scenes. There is a bedroom scene involving Clouseau and his wife, in which she ends up trying to hide her lover (who is the villain he is trying to capture) and her lover's nephew (who thinks he is her lover) from him, which is quite funny and finally gets the ball moving for the really brilliant set-piece of the show, when the Inspecter and various of his men, all in fancy dress for the party they are staking, end up chasing both the original villain and his nephew, who are both suspected of stealing the Pink Panther diamond and are both wearing identical gorilla suits.

That moment was a shining light in an extremely poor movie overall. The whole thing dragged so badly - even the court scene afterwards was so very dull - that it almost makes you want to switch off and go back to working on that sampler of the alphabet... if you happen to be a nineteenth century housewife, of course. But it is worth sticking around because when it is funny it is extremely funny. Plus it is interesting to see how the series started, because as sequels came out and Sellers was shifted to the front of procedings, things suddenly took a definite turn for the better.

So all in all, I wouldn't recommend you make a special effort to watch this. If you get the chance, such as if it happens to be on TV or if someone lends you the DVD, then by all means watch it because the funny moments really are very funny, but other than that it really is not up to much. Far better are the sequels such as The Pink Panther Strikes Again, The Return of The Pink Panther, and A Shot in the Dark. The reviews of which you can no doubt look forward to in coming weeks.

I think it's quite possible I've bored you enough for one night. Talk of exercise balls would just kill you off completely, and we couldnt have that now, could we. So get some sleep my little one, you've had a busy day...

And if talking down to you in a slightly disturbing manner doesnt make you want to keep reading this blog, then I don't know WHAT will...

Seeya

SIMARK

Apologies to the hoards of American readers or non-football supporters who come here regularly (yeah right) but unless you follow English football the following may well bore the pants off you. On the other hand, you're probably used to that sensation if you've been here before, so feel free to read on...

Regular fans of this blog (and if there are any, no miracle can save you now...) will know that recently Chelsea Football Club were correctly labelled here as "evil". So imagine the celebration and adulation spreading across the nation (who said I couldn't be a rapper) at the news that said force of evil lost to Manchester United yesterday in the Premiership, thus ending what at one point seemed doomed to be a unendable run of undefeated matches.

The West London side, having spent an enormous amount of money basically buying a new team last year, then went on and basically bought a second team to add to the first this year with another enormous amount of money from the virtually bottomless pit that is the fortune of owner Roman Abramavich. The result was that they won every one of their first nine league matches, giving them a nine point lead at the top and leading one bookmaker to pay out on them as champions. Needless to say, for anyone who is actually interested in competitive football, this was not a good time.

The team seemed to be unbeatable, not because of the manager's extraordinary tactical skills (anyone who calls defending as deep as possible and then hoping for a mistake from the opposition a brilliant tactic is a referee short of a match), but because of the endless amount of star players at their disposal. When you have getting on for two hundred million pounds worth of players, it isn't hard to imagine how you might break down teams eventually. Not only is this very unfair for the obvious financial reasons, but I have never seen a team play as cynically or unproffessionally as this Chelsea team.

Here is a side who will, unfailingly, insist on holding an opposition player back without attempting to play the ball if there is a risk of them getting an advantage. When the referee shows a yellow card, it is treated as a business transaction, something the player was planning all along. When Chelsea are attacking, they constantly dive, push, and use any other means to get a foul advantage over the other team. The amount of times that they have scored goals from free kicks that shouldn't have been given, or from a corner when they blatantly prevented a defender from doing his job, is too much to recall, except to say that it has been enough to win them many games.

Not only that, but certain Chelsea players, having made the most of a tackle against them in an attempt to get a free kick, will then insist that the referee give the player a yellow card, or sometimes even a red. This is absolutely disgusting, and sums up for me why this team does nothing whatsoever for the game. It also goes some way to explaining why your humble correspondent was so thrilled when Darren Fletcher's header looped over both Petr Czech the goalkeeper and John Terry the defender to score the only goal of the match. This defeat comes after a fortnight that has seen the blues drop points in the Premiership for the first time, to none other than the bottom club; get knocked out of the League Cup to local rivals Charlton; and lose in the Champions League to Spanish club Real Betis. Suddenly football seems slightly unpredictable again, although it would still seem silly to back anyone other than the richest club in the world.

Meanwhile, in Fur Elise news, you will be thrilled to note that I am now playing it all the way through with almost no trouble. Okay it may not be concert level just yet, but considering the level I was at when I started just five months ago, I think I'm allowed a little more time for that. Indeed, I actually dug up the book I was working from back then, and it is hard to believe that I have come so far so soon. I don't mean that to sound like I'm bragging, because heck knows I didn't have anything to do with it - I just practice a bit, go to bed, then wake up and find I can play it better than before. It's amazing what the brain can do when you... erm... put your mind to it...

Anyhow, 'tis all for now...

Seeya

SIMARK

I think we need a bit of a national re-education campaign to get going. Its ironic that everyone knows the rhyme "remember, remember, the fifth of November," and yet it seems like every year people seem to set their fireworks off at more and more random points, vaguely in the time of year of Firework Night. I am of course mentioning this because Saturday is the 400th anniversary of what must have been the UK's first ever terrorist attack, when Guy Fawkes attempted to detonate a massive amount of explosives under the Houses of Parliament. I assume the occasion is marked only in the UK, but here there are fireworks and bonfires, and various other traditions.

The problem is that whereas firework night was marked on the night with fireworks and bonfires, it is now the norm to set off the decorative explosives for weeks in advance, and even after, the event. There is still a week left, and yet the banging (some of it extremely loud) has been an almost nightly occurance for at least a month already. Personally I just don't see the point. I mean sure, fireworks are pretty and can be quite exciting, but I wouldn't go out of my way to see them, and I certainly wouldn't invest time, effort, and money to put on my own display that would disturb the whole neighbourhood, just because of some tradition. It doesn't help that there are other things going on, like Hallowe'en and Diwali (there is a large Asian population in our city) and these are probably each heralded with their own displays.

I know what you're probably thinking. "Big deal! So some people are enjoying themselves while you sit in your house moaning!" Well that's as may be, but even if were crucial to people's enjoyment to set of high explosives in the skies above, there is the issue of health and safety. Every year we have these celebrations, and every year we have the same reports on the news. Children with arms blown off after holding rockets that were lit... Adults with various appendages removed after misunderstanding instructions... Horrible facial injuries and burns all round from things like going back to fireworks after lighting them, and so on. And that isn't even mentioning all the injuries and deaths caused by malicious attacks, when people get hold of fireworks and intentionally use them to cause harm.

The upshot of all this is quite simple in the eyes of your humble correspondent. It just doesn't make any sense to have such lethal killers on the free market, available for anyone over a certain age (or anyone that looks a certain age) to buy and use for private displays. Would it really be so tough to make fireworks only legal for licenced public shows, where you can be sure that everyone has been trained and knows what they are doing? It would also cut down on all the extra noise we have these days, scaring my poor little cat... there there little cat.. its okay now...

Well now that we've set the world to rights on fireworks, and comforted my cat, what adventure shall we next embark upon? How about the bizarre world of online chat. This morning I had the strange experience of chatting with someone on the other side of the planet, in Australia. Don't get me wrong, the chat itself was far from strange, but there is something very disorientating about conversing with a person who is in the other end of the day from you. In the end, when it was still only half past one in the afternoon my time, they left because it was time for bed! This world is getting smaller and smaller, more and more connected, but it only seems to emphasise the huge differences between us...

Well after that moment of great philosophy, a brief music review. As suggested in the new "...of the day" boxes, today I bought a song by the White Stripes called "My Doorbell". To be honest I've never been too sure of the White Stripes, especially when they name their album "Get Behind Me Satan", which is a direct quote from the words of Jesus in the Bible and just seems slightly odd. The music itself doesnt always hit the spot for me, but in this case everything just seems to fit into place. I'm not saying that all their offerings aren't any good, its just that when I heard this it is so catchy that you cant help but dig those ridims! These aren't exactly the world's most complex lyrics ("I'm thinking about my doorbell, when you gonna ring it, when you gonna ring it?") but it is all so exciting with the strong piano element and heavy drum beat that you just want to get up and dance. Ok now that I've proven how little I know about music, I'll call it a night.

Seeya

SIMARK

Following on from the serious current affairs nature of the earlier post, it seemed only appropriate to continue the theme. Unfortunately your loyal correspondent is currently watching his local news programme, so the nature of the discussion might be slightly less cutting edge...

Just finished is an in-depth report on an elderly couple that, wait for it, got sent a demand for a bill that they didn't owe! No need for such looks of shock and fear though - they sorted it out and now they're getting a nice bunch of flowers from the company involved. This warranted the main slot on the programme: what I believe they call in the business, a slow news day.

So did I really come on here just to tell you that? Well quite possibly. I'm afraid to tell you dear reader that your humble writer is in one of those moods where all manner of rubbish could be about to spew forth fountain-like into the giant pool that is the Internet. For example, I could tell you how I've had a song by a guy called James Blunt on my mind all day, and it has slowly been driving me more and more insane as time has passed. I don't like James Blunt. I never liked James Blunt. To me he is just Coldplay two octaves higher, and considering how much I REALLY don't like Coldplay, that isn't a compliment. So for me, getting one of his songs stuck on my mind (I couldn't tell you which one, except that it isn't 'Beautiful', but the word still features a lot - that is when he isn't whining just at the upper range of the human ear) is just slightly worse than deep-frying my own scalp and eating it with a side order of roasted hair. Only just.

So I need a new song. I heard earlier that the Magic Numbers are going to be performing on a chat show later so that'll be good (that is the latest group that I listen to... I actually got their album at the same time as the Beatles' White Album! ask me some time and I'll tell you the full ten thousand word story). Ironically The Magic Numbers are also rather higher on the musical scale than your standard male-led band, but in this case I think it works wonderfully. Actually the group is made up of two men and two women, with one man on lead vocals and both women also singing, as well as playing all manner of instruments.

Well I just tuned in to said chat show in hopes of seeing said band, and instead there is Jade Goody, one of the most extraordinarily irritating, ridiculously stupid women ever to besmudge British screens. How in the name of monkey bars this woman has managed to make a CAREER in the public eye, I shall never know.

Anyway, I can take no more. And neither, I suspect, can you. I warned you it would be random. Fortunately Newsnight Review is starting, so I can feel intelligent.

Seeya

SIMARK

Why is it that when men reach a certain level of political office, they no longer view themselves as elected statesmen, but more as saviors of the human race? Last night I saw Tony Blair on the news giving a speech in which, in his most condemning tones, he told of his shock at a recent statement from Iran that had suggested they wanted to wipe out Israel, and went on to say that, "if this goes on, people wont be asking 'are you going to do something about this?' They'll be asking 'when are you going to do something about this?'"

Now I should just point out that I am not suggesting that it is anything other than totally disgusting if Iran did indeed make such comments, and I cannot even concieve of getting oneself into such a state that you feel the need to destroy a single life, let alone a whole country. My problem is this: when did Britain and the USA become appointed the moral guardians of the world? I must have missed that memo. What gives one man like Mr Blair the right to decide that his government is just and fair while another one is wrong just because it works differently? Plus am I the only one that senses a slight tinge of hypocricy in condemning another government for being hostile towards a country that is not attacking them, after what we did to Iraq? The only difference is that we have more powerful weapons (mainly because we decided that only we are good enough to have them) and so we all know what's going to happen.

Cue the "celebrations" over Iran's first democratic election in a couple of years' time (assuming the suicide bombers don't ruin things).

This is of course by no means limited to Mr Blair. Ever since President Bush came to power he has insisted on talking like a member of the clergy, referring to the forces of good and evil as if his elected status also gives him divine right to judge other men and decide what is acceptable and what is not. If you ever listen to a Bush speech you will here lots of phrases like "let us [insert commendable suggestion, eg "stamp out the darkness that lurks in our world"]; "we shall/shall not..." (as ultimate Knower of all that is Good I have decided for you all what we shall do); and other phrases taken out of "The Bishop's Guide To Writing A Good Sermon".

What makes things even worse with the American leader is that we know just how overwhelmingly hypocritical and self-helping everything he says and does is. When he stated the other day that he found Syria's actions "deeply disturbing" you know he has been looking for an excuse to get at them for a long time. He doesn't find the awful things that go on in Saudi Arabia "deeply disturbing", because they are friends, and well paying friends.

The only reason I'm going on about this is that I am just fed up of all these people dying because of our countries acting like teachers with the world as their playground, telling off all the little children if they say the wrong thing or do anything that they don't like. Apparantly the 2000th US soldier recently died in Iraq, and this is so long after the war officially finished that I couldn't even tell you when it was exactly. Bush is on film calling himself "the war President" - like he thinks its a bit of fun, and when he got the chance to send his troops to Iraq he probably thought it would be like one of those video games that he always gets stuck on after the opening menu. Unfortunately for all those people who actually had to get involved it turned out to be more than a game, and when the game was up for all the massive amounts of citizens that have died, it really was up.

Iran isn't going to attack Israel. Everyone knows that. I'm much more scared for all the innocent bystanders in Iran that are going to become next year's statistics if things carry on like this. I hope with all my heart that for once the leaders can put their ego's aside and realise that this has absolutely nothing to do with them, that just like so many times before they will only cause damage, hurt, and hatred if they try to go in all guns blazing.

Perhaps it will come to nothing. I really hope that this post will seem like a spectacular over-reaction to something that was never going to happen, because I'd rather look over-opinionated than have more people killed. But if it isn't Iran there's always Syria, or North Korea, or any of the other non-"Christian" countries that we don't like.

The news is always so horrible these days, with earthquakes and hurricanes and any other weather disaster you can think of killing huge numbers of people. Why on earth do we then have to go around killing even more ourselves?

Sorry for such a heavy post. I try keep this blog politically neutral, and I'm not by any means saying that things would be at all better with different political parties in charge. Looking at politics the way it is, its hard to imagine things changing too much even if Britain and America both got new leaders. My only concern is what is happening to all those innocent people, and for the sake of them I don't think it is worth trying to force the world to be exactly how we think it should be.

Seeya

SIMARK

Ok, latest update in the thrilling "there's an enormous picture of a cat on your blog" saga... I decided to take it down again because I realised how irritating it got if you tried to navigate around - and with writing like this, the last thing you need is gigantic felines to put you off...

So that was just a note to say that, yes, half of the last post is already out of date and no it isn't your fault that it makes no sense. But if you're coming here expecting things that make sense, well you're really going overboard I have to say.

Tune in later for more in our series, "Pointless Posts That Even The Writer Isn't Interested In!"

Seeya

SIMARK

Just a brief bonus post to point out the small but significant changes made to the blog you know and love (or couldn't really care less about). Firstly, you may have noticed that for your viewing pleasure you can now decide for yourself on the layout. Just use the options on the sidebar. Unfortunately I should point out that the quality of writing will not improve no matter how hard you try.

And yes, you are right, there is a giant picture of a cat looming over us. Good on you for noticing. I'm not sure whether she livens the place up or scares everyone away, but considering the latter was always the job of my writing I suppose we may have to have a rethink.

Just be glad there weren't any photographs of your loyal correspondent close at hand...

Seeya

SIMARK

Another day, another earth-shatteringly brilliant post-title. But what does it all mean? That's a question anyone visiting this journal will have been asking for two years now, but to answer it specifically today, I've been looking at the "referrer" statistics for Don't Look (as Bravejournal users will know, one of the features that comes with it is the ability to see which sites send visitors most often, so for example the bravejournal website is naturally up near the top) and what I found on there ranges from interesting to downright disturbing...

The most interesting thing to learn from the List (all hail the List!) is that it would seem that the more random words I write, the more people will find the blog on searches. An example is an entry from a long while back, when I specifically mentioned the "So Doff / Sod Off" sketch from The Two Ronnies, and have now discovered that some lucky devil came across this land of riches after typing a search for that sketch. So you see this presents a fascinating idea: people can search for top quality writing with witty jokes and excellent timing, and still find their way here!

More bizarre are the 'other' searches listed by which people somehow came here - the kind of searches that I can't actually mention specifically for fear of upsetting the large numbers of small children and elderly ladies that frequent this journal, and so I shall censor myself if need be. Now I can understand Don't Look being in a listing for a search about Ronnie Barker, but I'm almost certain that I have never mentioned **** ******** ***** * ***** ****** ****** *****! I didn't even think it was legal to put your ***** in a ***** **** * ***** like that...

On a totally different matter, last night's post about Fur Elise got me thinking about its origins. This is the sort of person I am: after knowing it for most of my life, it has only just occured to me that the title actually means something; that all things considered 'Elise' sounds like a name, and although I'm taking a wild stab it may not be too far out to suggest that 'Fur' means 'For' in German. Which leads to the next question - who was Elise? Why did Beethoven write a piece of music for her? On the other hand, my brother thinks that it sounds like 'Fleur d'Lise' which is French for flower of the lilly or something, thus making it music about gardening. Personally I prefer my theory, although I've yet to find anything either way. When I do a search for it on google it just provides handy links to Walmart for some reason...

Oh, and hi back to "venom75", a cheerful-sounding person if ever I heard of one! Sounds like we should send some Don't Look Too Closely love in his direction. Come on everybody! Ready?

Never mind...

Seeya

SIMARK

Well today is Wednesday, and in the world of your lowly journalist that means 'piano day'. This is one of those big changes that has happened in the gap since the last post in January: I have started learning to play the piano. My parents were clearly planning big things for me when I arrived in the world - we had a piano at home, and if you've seen a smug child performing a magnificent concerto while struggling to reach the keys then you'll know how easily kids can pick it up. Unfortunately the plan went slightly askew when said piano was literally thrown away while I was still a toddler, and just getting into it.

The result is that I spent my entire formative years craving to play the piano, but having no way to do it. At school there were piano's, but they were the most rickety, damaged and worst of all sticky things you've ever seen, besides which my parents could never afford the lessons, so the instrument still wasn't much good. Eventually we got a digital piano a couple of years ago (its like a keyboard, but is a bit cleverer so it simulates a piano slightly better), but it still took me until sometime this year to take it up, when I realised that actually doing the thing I've been wanting to do all my life could help with feeling down.

So now you know the entire piano back story, I'll just bet you're dying to know what's happening now, aren't you. AREN'T YOU!!! I'll take that pained groan as a yes, then. Well I suppose I'm doing ok all told, considering that I only started in June. Back then it was an achievement to read a note off the page and play it on the piano. Now its still rather the same, but the notes in question are further apart and more difficult, not just centre 'C' for example... I am currently learning for Grade 1, which means that I have the honour of being as yet ungraded. My tutor thinks I should be ready for the exam by summer next year, or rather that I should be more than ready, which is what you want to be when taking an exam. Which would more than suit me, because it would mean making my first grade within a year of taking the thing up! At that rate I'd be a concert pianist by the time I was thirty!

Good old gritty realism, never lets me down...

For those taking notes, I am currently learning to play Fur Elise, in a move of staggering ingenuity and originality. No wait, everyone does it, don't they. Even my brother, who cant play the piano, has somehow learnt to play Fur Elise. I normally hate doing things that everyone else does (why else do you think I deliberatly write so badly... its post modern!) but in this case Fur Elise is at least a nice piece that is easy enough to play (well the adapted extract I'm learning is...) and is something everyone knows, which is not something I can say about Spick and Span, Make Way For The King, Apple Pie Waltz or any of the other original compositions made especially for hopeless beginners like me. So it'll do!

The biggest problem learning piano as I do is the difference between the simulation instrument at home and the grand piano awaiting me at my weekly lesson. So although I don't drive, I imagine this would be like learning to do so in a Mini Cooper and then doing your test in a Ferrari. The results can be rather scary let me tell you, and in both cases horrific crashes generally are soon to follow...

On which note (a little joke there for the musicans among you... try to laugh...) I say goodnight.

Seeya

SIMARK