Sunday 16 June 2002
From the Australian Bureau of Statistics:
Hospitals reported 4 broken arms last year after cracker pulling incidents.

It may have been a mistake to watch the remake of 'Psycho' today, since I'm still smarting about what Hollywood did to 'The Time Machine'. For some reason it was thought to be a good idea to reshoot the Alfred Hitchcock classic scene-for-scene in colour and set it in 1998. Somebody should have told them. They really should.
The only question I can really think of to ask is 'Why?'

Monday 17 June 2002
From the Australian Bureau of Statistics:
101 Australians since 1997 have had to have broken parts of plastic toys pulled out of the soles of their feet.

Nothing more has been reported on the Case of The Burglar Monkey of Peckham which last week nipped into the open windows of local homes and left with mobile phones and other portable electrical goods.
Talking of monkeys, Prince Michael and Princess Michael of Kent (It must be dashed awkward, them both having the same first name. I imagine it causes all sorts of confusion at Royal shindigs) are in the news as it transpires that they pay only £69 a week for their five-bedroom apartment in Kensington Palace.

The details of their tenancy came to light last week in a Commons written answer by Alan Howarth, a junior minister at the culture, sport and media department. It emerged from his statement that the Kents have had the benefit of the apartment since 1979 and only started paying a £3,500 per year contribution to the £1.1m upkeep costs of Kensington Palace in 1994. Until then, they lived there for free.
The couple own an eight-bedroom mansion in Gloucestershire worth an estimated £1.6m, though they are said to have complained privately about their lack of cash. Next year they will face a rent rise for their Kensington home - of the princely sum of £1.70 per week.
In an unwelcome turn of events for the Kents, it seems that they may now be in danger of losing their luxurious apartment which comes with a team of gardeners, eighteen specialist craftsmen and a 24-hour telephone exchange.
The review of business interests of Royals which came in the wake of the Sophiegate affair when the Duchess of Wessex was duped into making damaging remarks by an undercover journalist, may catch the Kents in its net. Prince Michael is said to have taken 24 free airline trips in 15 months by exploiting his royal connections. Even if they lose their Kensington home, it is not though that they will be reduced to selling the Big Issue at Knightsbridge tube station.

http://www.myhackney.co.uk/hackney/property-kents.htm#kens

'We're not moving!' said Prince Michael sternly, aghast at the thought that his landlord (i.e. us) should consider such a hovel to be worth a rent increase.
Are there any monarchists reading?
Do they wish to comment?

Tuesday 18 June 2002
'I'm confused. I thought Cambridge was in London.' - Jade from Big Brother

I heard somewhere, or maybe it was just a terrible dream, that Jeffrey Archer is to be released in September. Maybe the other housemates have just voted him out. If it turns out to be true I shall have to compose a strongly worded letter to someone.
On the subject of bad dreams, Lol from Wales e-mailed me regarding my dream in which I was wandering along, naked but for a T-shirt, with Vanessa Feltz, searching for the lid of a tin of blue paint which I was carrying.
He suggested I try to look at it from the perspective of either Vanessa or the tin of paint. I don't really want to get into Vanessa's head (I'm not sure she'd be too keen on the idea either).
I'm also very dubious about the philosophical implications of a tin of blue paint having a perspective on the issue, but given the choice, I'll plump for the paint.
'Why am I blue?' the paint was presumably saying, 'Rod never paints anything blue, and why is he more concerned about my not having a lid than he is about not having any trousers on?'
I need to think more deeply about this.
What would Vanessa be thinking?
'He's got no trousers on... And he seems very worried about finding the lid for his paint... But bugger that! Where's the nearest Fried Chicken shop?'
I am pleased to report that Crossroads has been recommissioned for another year - under the formidable guidance of Evil Yvonne from Soapstars - and despite disappointing audience figures (I think it's me and a man called Kevin from Wigan) it is still pulling in more viewers than Brookside, but not at the moment as it's on hold while the World Cup is on which vexes me greatly.
I've applied for several more jobs including one in Hampton, even though I'm not exactly sure where Hampton is.

Wednesday 19 June 2002
'I'm not going to be an escape-goat for anyone.' - Jade from Big Brother

Down to The Bush of Shepherds didst I go and hence to Safeway.
It was a lovely day today, albeit a little stuffy indoors.
We are planning - after long years of avoiding the inevitable - to get Satellite TV. The Ugly One's keen, mainly I suspect because they have a Doctor Who omnibus on UK Gold every Saturday and Sunday morning. I'm happy with the Einstein Channel, the Sci-Fi channel and something that shows 'Days of Our Lives' and 'Dynasty'.
I miss 'Days of Our Lives' greatly. The last I saw of it - before it was dumped in an unwarranted and frankly criminal act on the part of Channel 5 - was Princess Greta's Coronation at which three independent mad gunmen started shooting the guests willy-nilly.
God only knows what John Black's eyebrows have been getting up to since then. They have a separate contract from the rest of his body and may have moved on to star in a series of their own.

Thursday 20 June 2002
'East Angular? That's abroad. Is there not a place called East Angular abroad?.' - Jade from Big Brother

I'm a big fan of John Peel, as people who know me (a valiant few) can testify. Some of them have pointed out - usually as an act of calculated revenge - that there is a strong resemblance between us, which is partly why I've been attempting a vocal impersonation of him in order to get lookalike work and surreptitious entry to BBC parties.
We do have a lot in common, though mainly it's our eclectic and somewhat bizarre taste in music. I remember years ago he played a particularly frenzied track by a Berlin punk band followed with no pause for breath by Noel Coward's 'Don't Let's Be Beastly to The Germans'. You'd never get Doctor Fox doing that.
I was pleased to read in John Peel's Radio Times column the other week that he occasionally has a solitary Roy Orbison moment, as I do myself when the mood takes me.
This week, however, he writes of his complete bafflement with Big Brother. It seems (and I'm reluctant to believe this of someone I've admired for so long) that he'd rather watch the football.
I feel somewhat let down, and was reminded of similar acts of celebrity betrayal, such as Kenny Everett's public endorsement of Mrs Thatcher and Ben Elton's collaboration with Andrew Llloyd-Webber (although, to be honest, Ben had been well on his way to The Dark Side a long time before that).
I'm going to give John the benefit of the doubt for the time being, and hope that he can still be saved.

Friday 21 June 2002
'I'm 20 and I don't know much, but I'm not thick.' - Jade from Big Brother

Chris Moyles, another favoured Radio One DJ turned up tonight on 'Big Brother's Little Brother' to give his two-pennorth worth on who should be evicted from The House.
Despite his protestations of unattractiveness on the radio, he's actually a very sexy man on TV.
I wouldn't say no to a bit of rough and tumble.

Saturday 22 June 2002
'In the olden days they had wirelophones and they got music out of that.' - Jade from Big Brother

I'm still really pissed off about the new version of 'The Time Machine'.
Postmodernism has gone a little too far in the entertainment industry. The charts are full of inane and shallow reworkings of songs that were either far better in their original form or else were bad songs when they were first recorded anyway and are rendered no less bad by their reprise.
Then there's films (or 'fillums' as the sexy Geordie voice-over man from Big Brother would no doubt say). If a good fillum is a good fillum, why re-fillum it?
'Invasion of The Body Snatchers' - Original: Good. Remake: Bad!
'Psycho': Original: Brilliant. Completely pointless shot-by-shot remake: Just completely pointless... and awful!
'The Time Machine'. Original: Good. Remake: Total temporal pants, so bad it makes 'Star Trek Voyager' look like Science Fiction (well, not quite, but you know what I mean).
Now there's the remake of 'Rollerball' which was a quirky and rather good creation which seemed to typify the era in which it was made. Why remake it? Initial reviews are not promising and I'm not expecting it to be a success.
I'm curious as to whether Hollywood moguls are capable of reading novels. Off the top of my head I can think of half-a-dozen novels which are tailor-made for cinema and as far as I know have never been optioned. I'm not going to mention them in case someone actually takes some notice of me. Hollywood's record of faithful novel adaptations is woeful to say the least. Take 'The Day of The Triffids' for instance. Excellent novel. Shameful film.
Then there's 'The Time Machine.' Excellent novel, still relevant and important over a century after its publication, and... see above.
I'm going to be coming back to remakes as they occur to me, or as they appear.
Tonight I made my special hot-pot which rivals the legendary Betty Turpin's in taste, content and sheer class.

Sunday 23 June 2002
'Have they got seasides in Birmingham?' - Jade from Big Brother

Not a lot happened today. We ate leftover Hot-Pot, drank vodka and watched copious amounts of mindless TV.

Monday 24 June 2002
'What does 'hostile' mean?' - Jade from Big Brother

I saw Mavis' old boyfriend from Coronation Street in Hampstead today. I cannot for the life of me remember what the character's name was. Such is the transient nature of fame.
They had a competition on the radio to list a Top Ten of the ugliest Rock Stars. I'm sad to say that Lyle Lovett didn't rate a mention.

Tuesday 25 June 2002
Acrid (n.) 1. A small town in Lancashire. 2. A type of invisible dust. 3. A small ecru flower of the Clapometa genus.

It's been an interesting week, what with Arizona being on fire, the usual stories about Lesbians getting sperm off the Internet and Mayor Ken Livingstone (may his newts forever prosper) being accused of getting off his face and pushing a man over a wall.
Hopefully Crossroads will be back soon and I can get back to some realistic scenarios.
I've been moaning about Americans quite a bit lately and their infinite capacity for missing the point, but I do have to admit that there is one thing that Americans do really well, and that is making TV movies about our current Royal Family. The British can only do it with dead Royalty and recently wasted no time with rushing out a suitably sycophantic and unsurprisingly dull and toothless TV drama based on the early life of The Queen Mother.
Americans (bless their little swollen-ankle-filled gingham socks) have no such compunctions and have produced a film about Prince William which has 'horrified' the Palace. As you might imagine, I'm in favour of anything that 'horrifies' the Palace.
Camilla Parker-Bowles is apparently portrayed as a foul-mouthed harridan who - upon first setting foot in Buckingham Palace - asks, as one might, 'Is there any decent gin in this dump?'
The Family itself is painted as a grasping clutch of soulless cold-hearted despots, keen to erase the stain of his mother's memory from young William's mind.
It seems uncharacteristically faithful to reality for a US production. Nevertheless... I can't wait!
I only hope they expose the fact - of which I am still convinced - that the Queen Mother died in 1997 and her role subsequently filled by a Jim Henson animatronic.

Wednesday 26 June 2002
Hubris (n.) Brand name of a short-lived Kalvin Klein aftershave.

The evil Simon Cowell - late of 'Pop Idol' - is currently venting his personal and rather curious form of bile upon American wannabes in the US version of the show.
Unfortunately, all the contestants I saw on a clip of the show this morning were of the 'Why use one note when twenty-five will do just as well?' school of singing.
Simon then told a contestant that his shirt was perfectly awful and pursed his bloodless lips.
Talking of amoral bloodsucking monsters, we watched 'Interview With The Vampire' again this evening which has partly revived my faith in Hollywood adaptations. Great original novel: Great film. The only annoying children in it (a pair of chubby twins) were already dead and had no lines at all.
Tom Cruise is in it unfortunately, but there is a great deal of satisfaction to be had from seeing him get poisoned, have his throat slashed and then get set alight!
God Bless America!

Thursday 27 June 2002
Cogitate (v.) The act of calculating the number of flywheels in a clock.

HMV have a sale and I was sent out to buy 'Dune - The mini-series' which was half-price. Great great great book. I'll let you know about the adaptation.
I was given a longing lustful look by the security guard... I'm sure I was. I smiled at him. He smiled back. I was at a loss as to what to do next. Should I steal something in an attempt to get taken into a backroom and frisked? or walk nonchalantly past him and try to engage in an innocent conversation about uniforms and interrogation technique?
I attempted to walk past nonchalantly, but just at that moment a group of young potential shoplifters (or Madeley's as they are known in the professional services) marched in and my admirer was dragged away to guard the HMV family silver.
Bugger!

Friday 28 June 2002
Sinecure(n.) A popular nasal spray of the Nineteen Fifties.

According to Radio One there is, in Sydney, a weekly sauna night for gay men of a large and hairy variety. In Sydney, they are known as 'Mountain Men' and once a week come down from whatever local mountains there are to visit the sauna for a night of steamy relief.
The Powers That Be have decided to name this weekly furfest..... 'Gorillas In The Mist'.

Saturday 29 June 2002
Post-prandial (adj.) Pertaining to the time following the invention of the spoke, and in particular its revolutionary effect on wheel-design. Conversely, Pre-prandial tends to be used in reference to wheel-less civilisations.

I had a very strange evening which included having a drink with an Iraqi bus-driver, ending up in Dalston and having money stolen out of my pocket, not - I must add - by the Iraqi bus-driver who seemed a fairly decent sort of chap. I'm trying to be philosophical about it, but I can't help feeling that if someone wanted to steal money surely they could have picked some rich bastard.
I wish I'd stayed in and watched Channel 5. It might have been more painful but at least I'd have been able to buy a bottle of vodka to numb my assaulted senses.

Sunday 30 June 2002
Abjure (v.) To judge, or otherwise decide upon the merits of, the winner of a muscle competition. A panel of judges at these events is commonly known as the abjury.

Nothing much happened today. I thought a little about the ramifications of Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle, but got fed up with that and got drunk.