We’ve just watched Fahrenheit 9/11. We couldn’t wait for the capitalist machine to allow us to go out and pay to see it. Even though Mr Moore doesn’t seem to object, we still plan to go and see it at the cinema and maybe even buy the DVD.

Brilliant. Easily as good as “Roger and Me”. It’s gratifying to see that America seems to love it too.
No matter how much you think you know about the oil wars, Afganistan, Iraq, the Bushes and the Bin Ladens, there will be footage in this film that will astound you.
We’ve been looking forward to seeing it for months and it didn’t let us down. As you know, I’ve been saying George Orwell will be proved more and more accurate as every day goes by. The last quote in the film was from 1984 and could have been written by our contemporaries about either of the Iraq wars.

Last night was our Woollen/Copper wedding anniversary (7 years – no, I’m serious). We spent the day looking through the Time Out good food guide and London Eating for some gourmet, local food. After lots of debate we narrowed them down to two. Both of the buggers were closed on sunday night. The third option, which we both agreed was probably too poncey, I called, and was forced to leave a pathetic message on their answering machine.
Saddened by our shitty luck, we did our best to think of local eateries and came up with Toads Mouth Too. Just as we were leaving, No 3 called to see what time we wanted to book a table for. We had to get the bus because the cab company let us down (no surprises there). Just outside, Michele got sprayed with muddy water from a Lewisham Council paving stone that may well result in a law suit.
However, despite these bad omens we had a great night. Lots of nice wine, food, and company, including the owner. She donated a couple of glasses of champers to our celebrations and then joined us for a long chat. She also let us read the short story that provided the restaurant’s name…you don’t want to know.

The government have prepared in advance for a time of national panic such as a terrorist bombing, a nuclear disaster or the England football team being beaten fair-and-square by a better team.

Tragically, the latter disaster occured this week (apparently) and so the Government have had to resort to using the emergency plan.

Tonight on ITV1, the channel devoted to the sort of people whom government national emergency plans are intended to pacify, is broadcasting a programme that will make everyone in GREAT Britain feel better about themselves, thus averting riots and general unrest throughout the nation. This programe is called “Dumb Foreigners”.

“Dumb Foreigners” is yet another one of those “World’s most stupid cunts caught on video” programme, but with all the British people taken out. With such a cunning formula the British can look and laugh as Dr Fox (Britian’s funniest and most likeable celebrity) takes us on a tour of the world, where foreigners eat bees, set each other on fire, fall off things, get injured by animals (it’s OK – they’re foreign), and generally act like the uncivilised morons they really are.

However, cynic that I am, I suspect that this programme is probably syndicated worldwide and slightly longer than the version we’re seeing. In each country in which it is aired, the linkman is replaced with a celebrity of equal stature to Dr Fox, and the clips from the hosting country removed. This will, naturally, mean that in every country outside of the UK that sees it, will see lots of pictures of Brits acting like wankers and getting hurt. But what would those clips involve ? When do Brits ever behave stupidly ?
Here are my guesses at the sort of material the “dumb foreigners” get to see of the British:

• Teenagers in sportswear sniffing solvents, and then lighting a fag (cigarette) and causing themselves to explode
• Big fat blokes in st george cross T-shrits with one arm round an identical-looking friend, and the other holding a can of lager, jumping up and down and shouting racist chants before puking over each other and pissing their pants
• People being forced to leave the pub at 11:20 and then eating rat, dog and cat meat on a spike in the local “kebab shop”
• Fat people dancing at weddings and then falling over because they haven’t used their legs for 10 years
• People trying to barbeque chicken in the rain
• Dopey women and middle-class men trying to persuade their mates that they not only give a flying fuck about football, but they know and care about “the diamond formation”

Planet Pizza deserve an OBE.

Taken a day off tomorrow. Partly because I need some sleep and partly because I can. The idea of doing another straight 5 days makes me want to cry. I know, in the grand scheme of things, me doing 5 days work really isn’t anything to get worried about – especially after watching a C4 documentary about Palestine this evening – but it doesn’t stop me feeling totally broken. Work today was ok too.We have a new web manager while Heidi is on maternity. This woman really does seem to have her head screwed on properly…either because she does have her head screwed on properly, or because she is a skilled social engineer and knows what to say. Either way she bought me a bowl of Thai soup so I like her 🙂
But last night involved some very late night work on one of our mail servers and so I wasn’t 100% today. So I decided to take a day off to try and get my head together. Humph helped a lot this evening by climbing on me earlier and falling asleep (he even put one leg up). What an understanding bird.
Here are some reasons why Michele and I should be given 10 million pounds:

• So we could sort all of our parents out financially
• So we don’t have to work, which would allow Michele to start a parrot rescue organisation and take care of ill-treated birds
• So we can buy a house in the US and the UK, so we can both stay with our parents
• So we don’t have to work, which would allow me to spend my life creating amusing but pointless programs and websites.
• So we can both become philanthropists…difficult without any dough

The beastie boys appeared on TOTP a couple of weeks ago. Adrock and MCA are going grey…arrrrrgggh!
Not only that, but they have truly copped out by releasing their music on Copy Protected media.
I’ve said it before, but I’m going to spell it out:
If you obey the law and buy the album, you will be purchasing audio of an inferior quality to those that have obtained it illegally. You will also be installing copy-protection spyware on your computer without being asked. It is your moral duty NOT to buy this album.
Pity because it’s really very good.

The only way to stop people copying audio is to make it cheap enough so that no-one bothers.

Sometimes I feel good about the world. Admittedly this usually occurs after a couple of bottles of wine, but nonetheless it is still worthy.
Being married to Michele is good for so many reasons. Apart from her being beautiful, intelligent and all that, we also agree on a lot. The longer we live together, the more we tend to agree on things including politics, religion, and music. In fact, is there anything else ?
Now and again, we end up putting music on and dancing around like a couple of fools. It’s so nice to know someone else who loved Hip-Hop at 15 and Led Zep a couple of years later. The fact I bought my first Run DMC T at 15 makes me feel superior to most of the others in my age group 😉 The fact that Michele was also playing PE around the same time also makes me think happy thoughts.

OK, we’re in our thirties and have no assets whatsoever – but isn’t that something to be proud of ? Regardless, I’m still preparing for the great cop-out…
P.S. Michele used an Eric B and Rakim quote for her Columbia University Yearbook (no she wasn’t a little rich girl, she was just very clever)

Last night was Tellytastic. Firstly, I’d taken out copy of Viva Zapata. Superb, despite the unescapable Hollywood glitz.
Then BBC four’s take on the 60’s. “Why I hate the 60s” was the antidote to all of those nostalgic montages about sexual liberation, positivity and revolution. This was followed by a particulrly cynical episode of Steptoe and Son where Harold was attempting to be the local Labour candidate.
Finally, Dennis Potter’s excellent Stand Up Nigel Barton.
Oddly, and without wanting to sound trite, Zapata, Steptoe and Nigel Barton all seemed uncannily relevant to today, despite all being set in very different eras.
When people smugly slag-off TV as a whole, they really need to try flipping channels and shutting thier mouths.

As I was writing that last blog, News 24 went live to lisbon to bask in the friendly atmostphere among the England fans. The hack chatted to a charming bunch of our country’s ambassadors, all smirking when he asked them if they were concerned about violence breaking out. “pick on someone else..go on” quipped one as sweat dripped off of his fat shaven head onto the england flag tied round his bare, sun burnt beer-belly.
This went on for a while, until the interviewer started to wrap up. In the background, all of the bulldog faced fans were chanting and shouting some inaudible bollocks and punching the air. Then, after talking about how friendly everyone was and how there was no risk of hooliganism, he said, and I quote:
“a tiny bit of racist chanting there, but certainly nothing serious.”

It’s very comforting to discover that a serious social disability, such as hating all types of sporting activity with an almost psychotic passion, affects others too. So I’d like to thank Charlie Brooker for supporting the cause. I’d also like to echo his sagely words:
In summary, then: bollocks to sport and bollocks to everyone who likes it. Forever and ever. Amen.

So mote it be brother.

Ken won – no suprises there, but check the rest. The BNP got more than the Greens.

Ken Livingstone (Lab) 685,541
Steve Norris (Con) 542,423
Simon Hughes (LD) 284,645
Frank Maloney (UKIP) 115,665
Lindsey German (Respect) 67,731
Julian Leppert (BNP) 58,405
Darren Johnson (Green) 57,331
Ram Gidoomal (CPA) 41,696
Lorna Reid (IWCA) 9,542
Tammy Nagalingham (IND) 6,692

60,000 Londers voted BNP! Christ on a bike.. That’s almost double the vote they got in 2000.
I wonder if the proliferation of st george crosses everywhere you look these days has had an effect? Before anyone starts banging on about political correctness gone mad and how the English need to regain pride in their country and get their identity back, can I just point out that this is

BOLLOCKS!

and you really should just use your bloody head and belt up. The rabid, foam-mouthed ‘patriots’, or ‘nationalists’ as I prefer to call them, really don’t need to be encouraged and commended for blindly worshipping a symbol on a flag. We expect Germany and Japan to regret their history and learn from it, but when anyone suggests that we still haven’t learned from our imperialist history they get accused of thoughtless political correctness. Pundits, politicians and celebrities fight to be the first ones to publically defend flag waving. Even that ponce Morrissey has started wrapping his aging, worthless flab in the st george cross. No excuse. If you fly a flag, you are claiming to support what it stands for not what it is. What does the st george cross stand for exactly ?
I don’t even mind the American obsession with their flag so much, because at least it stands for something…it’s just a pity that most of the most vehement wavers of “old glory” clearly haven’t read, or just don’t understand the constitution.
Fans of George Orwell may like to read this article which describes the treatment a British journalist received on entering the US. The “Department of Homeland Security”, or the “Total Information Awarenes Project” as it was previously known, now treats foreign journalists, even from friendly countries, as a serious threat to security. Travel on the wrong visa, and you get to spend some time in the Ministry of Love. My favourite part of the article is the last paragraph:
I told the officer taking my fingerprints that I would be writing about it all. “No doubt,” he snorted. “And anything you’ll write won’t be the truth.”

Ribena are running a competition to win a donkey. I LOVE donkeys, but hate Ribena, so if anyone out there doesn’t mind the stuff, you wouldn’t win me a donkey would you ?