First, from my Mum. She went to a reading at a bookstore in KL where she met [[Shashi Tharoor]], a candidate for the post of Sectary General of the UN. She had him sign a book – and insisted he write “best, Shashi, the future Secretary General of the UN.” Shashi initially refused but my Mum persuaded him that if he believed in himself, and wrote it, then it would happen. And so he did it.
See what happens; I’m going to try to give my mother credit for putting the UN secretary general in power if he gets it.
Second, from my cousin David (for the comedians who have been asking, no, his surname isn’t David) – who was travelling on the Northern line the other day. Someone asked him if the train was going to Morden – to which he replied “Morden likely,” and promptly started laughing so hard that he had to get off the train.
Things have been ludicrously busy for me lately. Lots of interesting evenings out but have missed the boat on writing about them (blogs are such transient things…) and not sure there’s much left to write about at this stage, other than the fact that I’m quite tired and looking forward to trying to make some quiet time – but may not for a little while yet.
Maybe I should just admit that I’m not going to get too much writing done this summer and get some one from here to sit in for me for a little while. Areas of blogspertise: technology, PR, trivia, comic books. Actually, probably will get some offers… But no, never surrender!
People just seemed to have gone nuts this summer with parties, etc. My sister thinks I’m having a quarter life crisis, which may be true. I’ve only bought an iPod: but maybe that’s what you get for this one, and the sports car only comes with the mid-life crisis….
Went to see Pob’s band in Putney last night. Was fun – they played some good songs.
I want a band. I don’t suppose I’ve got a London based drummer, bassist and/or singer reading this, do I? I bring some highly average rhythm & lead guitar to the mix, along with moderate enthusiasm and middling skills on the triangle.
No, I didn’t think so.
But there’s something inspirational for me about going to gigs. I should go to more – might actually get around to writing some lyrics to that song I was working on about two weeks ago…
I’m not big on shopping myself, but if you are… check out the Visa Diaries. Kate Howe is examining how your shopping reflects your personality, in some sense — as she tells “tales of life and love” through Visa receipts ;).
Me? I hate shopping. Buy everything online that I can. Not sure what that says about me :P
My closest school friend, Roy, gets married this week, in a three stage ceremony, part two of which I had the privilege to attend at his family’s place in the country yesterday. Was a very moving affair — Roy’s sweeping passion for his Transylvanian bride, Cristina, and his moving speech — and the best man, Roy’s brother Nicholas, delivered a very funny, obviously passionate tribute. His parents were also clearly proud and the whole afternoon was extremely pleasant.
Also hilarious to catch up with Will, another old school friend, and to meet his lovely American wife for the first time. Also had the privilege to catch up with Peter Farquhar, our legendary english teacher from days gone by. All were on excellent, ebullient form – Will cracking jokes about vampires, garlic etc., and Peter engaging and reflecting with everyone with the genuine interest and sincerity that has helped him maintain close friendships with so many of his former students.
Slightly worrying that quite so many of my friends are tying the knot at this stage; but I’m adopting a ‘que sera, sera’ attitude to that aspect of my life…!
Just finished reading The Insider, [[Piers Morgan]]’s memoirs, after having it recommended by loads of people at work as an entertaining read (thanks to Dan A for lending me the book in the end…). It’s also been difficult to concentrate on any of my other ‘to-read’ books else in the recent heatwave.
I hate to say it, but it was extraordinarily entertaining.
Of course, Morgan comes out of it looking good — he claims to be trying to paint an honest picture and therefore his mistakes are highlighted in the book… but many of his observations, as he relates them, make him out to be ridiculously prescient. I suspect hindsight had something to do with those.
But the anecdotes about and around the newsroom were fascinating; the degree of influence and power The Mirror wielded under his stewardship is downright impressive. As is the ridiculous namedropping he performs on every page of the book — to the extent that there is a ‘cast of characters’ at the back — people, you would assume on picking up the book, that Morgan knew or interacted with in the time he is recounting in these memoirs (1994-2004). The fact that this cast includes ‘Adolf Hitler’ suggests to me that the publishers perhaps did not feel Mr Morgan had quite enough celebrity friends after all…
Whichever way you draw it, there’s some impressive achievements in there, and some good stories. A book worth reading.
I’m sorry, the temperatures in London have been absurd – it’s 33 degrees in the office today and not having air conditioning – either here or at home – has reduced the amount of time I’m physically able to be writing… anything.
Normal service will resume as soon as I work out a cure for this global warming thing that lasts slightly longer than the ice lollies our bosses have very kindly provided the last couple of days…
I’ve had enough of the Spam Lords. Chris pointed me to the auto-close comments wordpress plugin, which will mean that – automatically – any post over 3 weeks old will have discussion disabled.
Sorry – if you wanted old chat, it’s going to have to happen elsewhere. Although WP‘s Akisment plugin brilliantly catches all my comment spam, I do get emailed about it and that’s been annoying – so now, spam no more.
Every now and then they remind you that they’re the parents and you’re the children. Today that happened with my Mum unexpectedly quoting Dickens at me, and my completely failing to get the reference.
When I was about three or four years old, my Dad came back from a trip to the US with four Superman t-shirts for me. The were little white t-shirts with pictures from the comics on them, and a little red, polyester cape hanging off the back. Tacky as anything.
But I didn’t wear any other t-shirt for the next three years.
I have some idea why I’ve always empathised strongly with the character of Superman; isolated but much loved, wanting to save the world but frustrated by personal limitations, raised by a supportive family. Oh, and the powers of flight, invulnerability, super speed and heat and x-ray vision. Those would all have been good, too.
For whatever reason, the emotional attachment stuck. When I was 17, I rediscovered comic books and now have a couple of crates of graphic novels lying around my house. I have most of the Superhero movies on DVD – even the really, really bad ones. And so expectations for the new Superman movie – as they were for Batman Begins last year – were high.
And they were met. The new film is emotionally poignant, visually spectacular and, for me, pretty damn enjoyable. It’s not perfect – it doesn’t come close to matching the narrative pace of Batman Begins. But Bryan Singer’s eye for sweeping, glorious visual imagery is… artistic, all the set pieces work, the dialogue – whilst limited – conveys what it needs to about the characters. And even though I didn’t particularly like Kate Bosworth as Lois Lane, the trials of their relationship… were engaging. And moving.
Although the Spielberg-esque happy ending was faintly tedious (“Hello, beastie” is a much better way to set up a sequel ;)) and did drag on for about 20 minutes longer than it had to, I left the cinema – very moved. It played on the myth without being too derivative, and whilst daring to try new things.
And wouldn’t it be cool to fly?
I’m loving YouTube at the moment. Here’s the trailer, for the uninitiated. Go see… now.
Armand David's personal weblog: dadhood, technology, running, media, food, stuff and nonsense.
