...I have bought and played Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2, and it has made me think about the political and social stance of games developers.

There are two ways of looking at Infinity Ward's attitude towards global conflict. The first is that it is a group of gung-ho patriots who have a warped Glenn Beck-esque attitude that war is an important thing because it keeps everyone in line and keeps America (and maybe the rest of the rich west) free. The second, and the one that I think is more accurate (at least, I hope) is that Infinity Ward is actually anti war, seeing various military actions as being unnecessary and being more about greed and pride than about genuine interests. War is, it would seem, only good for the subject matter of video games.

What Infinity Ward has done with Modern Warfare 2, its latest globe conquering offering, is something that not too many high profile developers have dared do - take the fight to the US mainland. Even a non American can sense the weight that this carried - rather than just fighting in miscellaneous East European and Middle Eastern towns (which are no strangers to conflict) you will be battling in everytown USA (in West Virginia), along the National Mall in Washington D.C. and even through the White House itself.

Taken at face value, this would undoubtedly support the first theory of the developer's stance on war. There is a section where you clearly overhear one of your fellow infantrymen say, with bitter resentment in his voice, "That's the Capital Building, man!", as he watches it being mercilessly shelled. I am in no doubt that many less informed, possibly right wing gamers who play will strive for an extra keen eye to take down this wave of foreign scum who dared breach the borders and deal this kind of treatment to America and its people. Yes, they will think, this is why we went into Iraq and Afghanistan - to stop this from happening.

But I think that Infinity Ward is cleverer than this. Because it's all about context. The first level in the game sees a battalion of US Army Rangers fighting their way through the streets of anytown Afghanistan. Buildings get pock marked with bullet fire and grenades. The fight even goes directly through a school, with children's work strewn across the floor and brightly coloured murals displayed on the walls. It's stuff that we have seen on the news countless time. So many times in fact that we have become immune to it. I feel that this is the point that Infinity Ward is making.

We forgive ourselves when fighting through dusty streets that are alien to us yet feel strongly about things when they hit a little closer to home. The fact is that whether the fight is fought in Anytown Afghanistan or Anytown USA the result is the same - innocents die, livelihoods jeopardised and normal life ceases to function. It matters not whether this affects a spice trading Muslim or a law practising Methodist, it is a futile waste. What Infinity Ward appear to be doing is showing people the effects of war in terms that are obvious. It s backed up by the use of (admittedly pretentious) quotations whenever the player is killed. One sticks in the mind more than any other, said by Ghandi, "An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind".

Say what you will about the relevance of video games but one cannot deny that this is a bold stance that will be seen by a great many people. For all of the lobbyists and naysayers who think that gaming is going to be the corruptible downfall of all that is right and good (Jack Thompson and Keith Vaz, take note) there are intelligent and responsible games developers out there who will rightly challenge the world out there is a powerful and dynamic way.

And the game is pretty decent too.

I think I'll cut this for easy skipping for those that don't care.

( 2 (or so) months in console gaming )

I am at the end of a full fortnight off work, which has been nice, if less restful than I'd have hoped. In fact, with me having visited Swalesdale in the North Yorkshire moors the week prior to this annual leave, it's been three weeks since I did any actually day to day grind. So, though it's always nicer to live in leisure, I sort of looking forward to my return to work. I'll have to take a massive hit in my wages though - I reckon I've lost about £150 from not doing the sleep ins. I suppose that my tax will be lighter so it shouldn't work out too bad.

Kate said to me the other night that I was "annoying", before clarifying that what she meant was in a "mad genius, creative kind of way. Like Kubrick". She also added, rather nicely, that she thinks that, one day, I will do something brilliant and important. I was very touched. It also lead me to thinking that this would be harder to achieve with my current lot in life. So I'm going to make some changes (albeit slow, progressive changes) that will hopefully bear some fruition for the better in the future.

I have also been under the assumption that writers and miscellaneous media commentators have to have started their careers at painfully young ages (Charlie Brooker is but a few years older than me) but I realise that this is not the case. I think that it's because I equate everything back to the music industry which does rely on the young and beautiful just as much as the talented and dynamic. But it's different. Jo Brand (whom I neither like nor particularly respect, FYI) worked as a psychiatric nurse for years before taking a risk and becoming a stand up comedian, which now, I should think, gives her more job satisfaction and lifestyle security than all of those years of working in mental health. What if, I thought, the only thing that separates those that do and those that don't is their will? If they can do it then why can't I?

So, back to the real world, I have decided to embark on a degree with the Open University which I plan to encompass media studies (as in the study of the media, not running around towns with camcorders and making animated shorts), some social sciences, some history and some English. I hope that, during my time doing the individual courses, that some journalism courses crop up. I'm not under the illusion that, if I manage to get a degree, that I'll suddenly be whisked up by a broadsheet to write about whatever I please, but I hope that, at the least, it will broaden my horizons and allow me to get my foot in doors that would previously be shut tight. I'm hoping though, even more than this, that it will just be bloody good fun to do.

I have applied for my first course, Understanding the Media, that begins in January. The course is a level 2 (which I have opted to do over the level 1 not because of my arrogance or even confidence of ability to do well at the work but it's the last possible opportunity to do the course and I feel it would be a waste to not) and sounds right up my street. It's all about how media moguls control the media, whether society governs the media or if it governs us, why we need celebrities and how they are made, and the like. I am genuinely buzzing with excitement about this. Social commentary is what I really want to do.

So, as long as I get the funding papers sent off in time then I should be starting this very soon.

***

The big, fun thing of the past fortnight is that we bought the Limited Edition Beatles Rock Band, which means that we have the Hofner bass and Ludwig drums. After the initial excitement of actually buying the thing

(which made me feel like this)


We found that it is an absolute joy to play and a touching homage to an amazing band, and also works excellently as a coffee table decoration:



Yes, the car still isn't fixed and yes, £179.99 is a lot to spend on a videogame, but when you think that it has kept Kate and I happily occupied for 2 weeks and will continue to do so for some time to come, the value of it comes into perspective. I think that, aside from being a socially fun thing to do, it adds enjoyment to listening to the Beatles' music in ways not before explored. I think that everyone who loves music should have a copy.

I also bought Fifa 09 as I was craving a game that I could play in 10 minute bursts, it was under £8 and, with my utter lack of football knowledge, I am unlikely to notice the improvements made in this year's instalment of the franchise. It's fun, though I don't understand how people can play it to the extend that they do. I mean, there's no story!

I have watched a couple of very good movies recently. Before I went to Yorkshire I bought The Wrestler, which I I watched on return and was thoroughly impressed with. Aside from Miles in Sideways, I can't remember a character whom I care and worried about more than Randy the Ram. And it doesn't sell out to the sugary norms of the Hollywood system. We bought Coraline which I adored and thought was every bit as magical as Pan's Labyrinth (if a gnat's pube short of a good Ghibli movie). And it had Lovejoy in it. Lastly, I finally watched Quiz Show which affirmed that John Turturro is a great actor and reminded me that Ralph Fiennes is also. It also reinforced that films set in the 1950s in America are great and that you can't beat a conspiracy and a court room for thrills.

I'm sure that you've all seen this, but for those that haven't, here's a treat:



"Are you the goddess?"

I need some time off work! My last time off was for my birthday back in mid June, and I'm currently suffering from the thing that people who do my job suffer from when they have gone too long without a proper break, namely almost constant fatigue and moderate malaise on a more or less daily basis. I am away with work for a week from 25th September, then, on return, have a fortnight off, so there's a bright light at the end of this professional tunnel. Hopefully it'll mean less moping around and more actual getting on with stuff.

There are currently so many expensive things that I want out there. These are

The car being fixed - for those that don't know the clutch went and the car is unable to be driven (and has been for about a month). Neither Kate or I actually need to use the car for work and can do the supermarket shopping online, so there's no real rush to get this fixed, but I am starting to miss it. I need to plump up at least £350 to get the necessary work done. However, I think that there is more wrong with the car than just that and am considering getting everything fixed. But that's more money.

There's video games galore that I want - not least The Beatles Rock Band, which is going to be friggin' expensive, not least because I want the Hofner bass controller. I have been a Beatles fan for as long as I've been into music, and this is, in a way, the game that I have been waiting a lifetime for. Yes, I can use the older instruments for a lot less money, but I think that this is missing the whole point. Then there's the games in time for the Christmas rush, namely Modern Warfare 2, Left 4 Dead 2 and the post new year must haves; Mass Effect 2 and Bioshock 2.

So much that I want, so little money to get it. As always, I'll find a way I'm sure.

I love this:



because there's nothing quite like someone doing something well. And, with that in mind and by me being in a Beatles-y mood, here's some juggling.

This isn't a meme, just something that I have thought up after thinking about lookalikes of celebrities. There are probably dozens of other things that you can do with it but I'll start with an easy one and ask:

Who can name this band?


Vocals/Guitar


Bass


Drums

Anyone but Kate can enter. No prizes on offer.

I didn't watch Britain's Got Talent last night. I have however just watched the performances from those that were in the final.

Now, call me a cynic but...what exactly is the fuss all about?

Yes, Diversity were quite good with their eclectic mix of dance styles and, out of the finalists probably did deserve to win, but their performance failed to captivate me. Susan Boyle, good voice and wacky, but, again, failed to move me. So why did 18 million people tune in and vote?

(Britain's Got Talent produced more votes than the last general election.)

Then I remembered that it actually has sod all to do with what the acts do, rather it has everything to do with who they are and there circumstance. We loved SuBo because she was old, ugly and had a learning difficulty, but boy could she sing! Apart from, as the press effectively told us, we didn't want her to win because she was, well, a bit strange. Better to give her a few votes to say that we like her and let the disadvantaged kids win. Well, otherwise they might come round and smash the windows, what?

Then there was Julian Smith, sax player extraordinaire who was making a last ditched effort to making the big time as a professional musician so that he could support his family. This kind of false stoicism really makes me angry. Sometimes having a talent is enough and, having a loving family around you and having a job that pays the bills is enough in life. Risking everything on a talent contest isn't a brave move into the unknown realm of limitless potential and wildest dreams, it's irresponsible.

But then again, we love this kind of thing don't we? People running the risk and making tits out of themselves so that we don't have to. We can laugh at the ones that fail and rejoice i the ones that succeed but ultimately we are the ones who have done nothing other than waste our money on a compitition that, in 9 months' time, no-one will remember.

(I'll say it again - more votes that the last general election.)

And this really sums us up as a people doesn't it? Predictable pawns who shall be molded into whatever the media want us to become. Was it a coincidence that he bookies favourite came second, after an almost week long negative press bombardment from the Red Tops? Of course not - we were just doing what we were told. (She had a learning difficulty, we must sympathise but not be seen to support that kind of thing.)

There are actual elections later this week for actual people who make an actual difference in our day to day lives. Now, I understand that you actually have to leave the house to go and vote and that, to make a decision, you might have to actually read and think about something, but, actually, it is really, really important. Because if few enough people vote then that could lead to the extremist parties being elected. And they can then gain exposure, support, money and maybe even power. And then you won't see the likes of SuBo, because she'd have been locked up for being disabled. Or Diversity, because they would have been deported.

We are the people. And we can, and should, make a difference.

Let's hope.

Can someone explain how, even after owning no less than 2 albums, did PJ Harvey pass me by for so long?!



For fuck sake...

...or Steve Marriott, singer with the Small Faces and, later, Humble Pie. I had always dismissed the Small Faces as being somewhat trite, but, maybe with age, I have learned to appreciate them and form a rather healthy interest. I was watching a repeat of Top of the Pops 2 on Dave (at work, TV is still unhooked here) which was guest hosted by Vic Reeves and Bob Mortimer, who happened to pick a Small Faces song. In the introduction, Vic Reeves said that Steve Marriott was an amazing singer, and one of the main influences of Robert Plant. Which I frankly didn't believe. After all, Here Comes The Nice doesn't exactly feature the same voice and Led Zep's Black Dog. But, when I stumbled across Humble Pie, I found that not only was Robert Plant seemingly aping Marriott's singing style - he wasn't really doing it all that well. Live anyway.

An illustration:

Small Faces performs Happy Days Toytown


Humble Pie performs Black Coffee


They say that variety is the spice of life, so Steve Marriott must be a freakin' jalapeno. Which is a somewhat crass analogy, considering that he died in a house fire.

I have just returned from Milton Keynes to buy my brother's birthday present. The trip was filled with frustration and has left me worn out. See, during the week shoppers are just more civilised and, more importantly, tend to go either on their own or in pairs. On Saturdays, this rules just flies out of the fucking window. I was in Paperchase trying to browse for cards and I realised that I was surrounded and trapped by 3 people with babies in pushchairs. Not only this but they all seemed to be linked together in some kind of telepathic way to move at around the same time, meaning that I couldn't get a proper look at what I wanted to as I was being processed on some kind of shopping conveyor belt.

This, together with the fact that companies seem to think that it's a great idea to have demonstrations in the middle of the corridors through the shopping centre (including one outside Lush which involved bowls filled with water and their bath products of which I thought, passing it on the way in, was a recipe for disaster and, on return to the car, proved me right by a section of the floor cordoned off, the demonstrations gone, a 5 year old child receiving some kind of first aid and some worried Lush employee looking very concerned and filling in paperwork - fill the gaps as to what happened) meant that it was arduous shopping experience. Still I got what I wanted. And the best exchange that I heard while I was there? A mother on the phone holding the hand of a 7 or 8 year old child saying: "Yeah but I never sucked him off, Daryl. No I never. I never. I never.".

Kate says that I am too negative and that it increases my own stress levels and, at the moment, gets in the way of me getting back to health, so I'll change tack now.

I realised today that Vauxhall and I by Morrissey is probably one of my favourite albums ever. I'm a bit hard on old Moz. There was all that horrid overexposure around the time of You Are The Quarry, and I think that I just got fed up with how he interviewed. But, it has to be said, the man is class. What I especially love is my feeling that all of his lyrics do not come from feelings but of observations, or by him musing how he would feel in a certain situation. There are far too many people out there who take Morrissey seriously, which I'm sure that he loves, but I think that there is an awful lot of wit and sarcasm in his lyrics, even in songs like I Know It's Over and There Is A Light That Never Goes Out (from The Smiths' The Queen Is Dead album - although if you don't know that then I'm not sure why you've read this far).

Vauxhall and I is just wonderful. Every song tells a compelling story and is accompanied by a big musical hug with it's dense production of harmonic feedback and other guitar and keyboard effects, the like of which I've never heard before or since. I wouldn't say that I could listen to it over and over, but I think that this is true (of me) about any album. It made the drive back from Milton Keynes today and rather enjoyable experience. If you're wanting to snatch the odd sample from the world wide web, then I suggest the songs Now My Heart Is Full, Why Don't You Find Out For Yourself? and the sublime Lifeguard Sleeping, Girl Drowning.

Here's some great Power Pop for everyone. I wonder if that is the natural progression of the punk/new wave 3 piece?



Points will be given if you can tell me by favourite couplet in this song.

I don't like the band Queen at all, but this is a fucking cracking track. I wish that Queen stuck with this formula of just releasing bonkers baroque rock (if I've just coined that then I want credit!) rather than slipping into the turgid mainstream shit that they churned out in the 80s. Still. If you don't like the following song then I'm sure that you'll find the naked ladies in the video refreshing.



"You say 'Coke' I say 'Caine' / You say 'John' I say 'Wayne'". Brilliant.

Wayyy out of date with these but two items found and, um, done when searching for Sopranos icons. The bottom clip is probably not safe for work, unless you work in a dock or truckstop.


You are Furio Giunta! You wear the iron mask...a fighter outside, but inside a lover. You have a lot of trouble confronting problems, and will consequently lose out on many opportunities. But you are passionate and caring, and women adore you.
Which Sopranos Man Are You?


the sopranos, uncensored. (Every swear word in The Sopranos. Ever.) from victor solomon on Vimeo.

I will possibly give a large cash prize to anyone who watches that clip all the way through in one sitting. More so if at work. Possibly.

Another day of not a lot, although this was down to a 90 minute phone call from my mum rather than me moping around. I was going to tidy up the kitchen and go and buy my brother's birthday present (a Stylophone!) but after the onslaught of having the menus and the seating plans, the lack of orders of service and the order of readings for my wedding I frankly am too fazed to do much else. She means well though, bless her.

I am feeling somewhat better, by the way.

I'm not sure what to do with myself though. I've already checked my journal flist, my Facebook, YouTube's video recommendations and the recent deaths on wikipedia. What else is out there. I have this strong feeling of inertia; that I ought to be doing something other than sitting here procrastinating. Maybe I'll go and tackle the washing up. That should, at least, give me some domestic points. I fucking hate washing up though. We have no working cold tap so all washing up must be done in scalding hot water (good for dishes, bad for health) and, because we are so badly orgainised, I don't think we have any clean tea-towels. Bugger. Just so you know - this is the thought process that affects everything that I do. It's frustrating and annoying.

I did manage some singing today, although this has given me a rather tickly cough. I have no idea as to whether or not I was in key though, because the muffled sound of my own voice was drowning out the sound of the guitar. It may have been amazing but it was more likely to have been woefully flat or sharp, like someone who really can't sing doing karaoke. At least I tried.

I found this on youtube yesterday. It's from early 90s comedy show, Fist of Fun and features, obviously, Kevin Eldon. You get respect if you remember this from the original run.

I am really hungry but have just taken penicillin, so have to wait for an hour before I eat anything. Honestly, antibiotics are really antisocial things. I have been stuck at home since Sunday and am starting to feel the cabin fever creeping in now. I don't think I'm going to go on a rampage or anything though as that's not really my style, so instead I'm going to piss and moan in my sardonic way. You lucky buggers.

I am starting to feel better. Late last night my right ear actually unblocked, although it seems to be fluctuating between good and bad at the moment. The bad part of this is that it has affected my inner ear, meaning that I'm rather dizzy and wobbly on my feet. In many ways it rather lucky that I don't make my living from being an acrobat in a circus. I doubt that you even get sick pay. And you'd lose your accommodation. Oh my, that would be terrible.

We have now confirmed the numbers for the wedding ceremony and meal at 28, meaning that we can get the ball rolling on all kinds of things. I am slightly alarmed with how little Kate knows about the wedding. Ian (Kate's dad) came round earlier while I was still sleeping and Kate told him that we were getting married at 4.30pm (we're not) and that the drinks package that he is contributing towards, was going to be less than £200 (it won't). She's funny.

We have devised our seating arrangement, which I frankly think is something of a winner and is going to keep more or less everyone happy. The only things left to be done are to actually contact the hotel and finalise our menus (which is proving to be somewhat difficult given that there are vegetarians, lactose and garlic intolerants and people who just refuse to east tomato soup attending), go and see the registrar and go over vows, buy my shirt for the service and buy rings. So everything's well in hand. As well it should be - the wedding is 3 weeks tomorrow.

After all of this wedding bumf, and after I get my PS3 (primarily for the BluRay) and surround sound unit, I am seriously thinking of collecting guitars. I have made the decision that I want to be a YouTube artist, ie not ever leaving the house or fraternising with other egotistical horrors musicians*, simply playing the songs that I like to an audience that will never meet me or, likely as not, never care. I'm at the age where putting my own spin on a song that I love is every bit as good as writing my own songs (which, frankly, are never that great) and I'm certainly not cut out for the whole band thing, so it seems like a good compromise. Maybe I'll do the odd acoustic show, but that'll do. Anyway, my wishlist of guitars at the moment is the Gibson Thunderbird IV bass and the Fender Jazzmaster, although I have no real idea of amps to accompany either. And I need to buy my Rickenbacker 4003 back from rocknrollpixie first. And maybe save for a house and stuff. And that huge pie in the sky that I've had my eye on for a while...

Kate and I have decided to cheer ourselves up with a supermarket cafe lunch. Now there's living. So I'd better go and get into the bath.

*I'm sure that I have just had bad experience with musicians and that most of them are lovely and work together in harmony like Smurfs. I should also point out that I place myself firmly into the "egotistical horrors" category having once settled an argument my kicking someone's amp over and by simply storming out of the session and refusing to play again until we did it "my way". Incidentally, I was right in that case.

I'm ill! I've been under the weather for about a week and a half and thought I was getting better, but on Sunday, after a nap, I awoke to find myself with the most excruciating ear ache that I think I've ever had. Over that night the deafness spread to both ears, which remain blocked. I went to the doctor yesterday who confirmed that I had a throat and ear infection and advised me to rest up for a week. So I have the week off work to sit around and mope. The problem is that I'm simply too mutton to do the things that I enjoy doing (which mostly rely on sound) so I'm trying to devise ways of keeping myself occupied without using aural distractions. Which pretty much boils down to reading, writing and sleeping. Blah.

I am hugely excited by the movie In The Loop, which is released on 17th April. The Thick of It is one of the finest comedy series to have ever been made and I am really happy that they are expanding on this and making a movie, especially as they are going to to explore the American political machine as well. And the thought of Malcolm Tucker being unleashed on the American public is practically making me moist.



I would make this post longer but there is discharge leaking out of my ear, which is fucking distracting.

I hope that my wedding is as cool as this.



I'm sure it will be.

Yaoee!!

I actually went to the cinema to see Watchmen ON MY OWN yesterday. And you know what? Most of the other people in the were also solo. But I was the only one with popcorn. So I win.

( Thoughts on Watchmen )

I have finally watched every episode of The Sopranos. What a wonderful, wonderful experience that was. I'm dying to have a discussion about this if anyone's interested.

Now all I have to do is work out a way to fill the time. Because, frankly, CSI just ain't cutting it.

Oh, the latest Franz Ferdinand album is pretty good.

A tip for all aspiring actors. If you're asked to be in a sitcom that airing at 8.30pm on Friday nights on BBC One, just turn it down. It has more chance of sprouting a cult religion than actually being funny. It's not that the BBC doesn't have good sitcoms or good ideas - look at The Thick of It - it's just that the 8.30-on-Friday slot is filled with turgid, safe and deeply morose comedy that we have surely moved on from and certainly don't deserve. First it was Jasper Carrot with a dysfunctional family. Then it was fucking Boycie from Only Fools and Horses with a dysfunctional family. And now it's Nicholas Lyndhurst (in Only Fools and Horses but playing a different character) with a dysfunctional family. Ironically, the only show of this slot that is fairly decent is called My Family.

For those of you who don't look at my Twitter or my Blip - I am currently in a phase of loving music from the 1980s. I have found through youtube research that the decade got worse as it went on (a very general statement I know, but when you think that it went from Call Me by Blondie to Every Rose Has Its Thorn by Poison, one that could well be true) and that the very best of the best came with a huge dollop of synth, preferably played by someone with glasses that could be seen from space.

My favourite band that ticks all of the boxes for this cheesy 80s madness are Toto, a band that formed in the late 70s and comprised of session musicians with big hair and bigger beards. The singer of the band didn't seem to do much else than sing (curious for a session man, one gets the impression that he must have appeared on tracks by Earth, Wind and Fire when they needed a male soprano) but did have the beady eyes and moustache of someone on the sex offender's register. In fact, it would be a surprise to me if he got any kind of sexual action during the heyday of the band. Looking like a cross between your dad and the local kebab shop owner who you've heard steals the rings from girls fingers when he takes their money just doesn't say "fanny magnet" to me. I should think that he gets more now on the basis that he's not the one in the band who died of a gardening accident.

The first video is called Africa, which is demonstrated by the word AFRICA on the giant book on which the band are playing and the appearance of a black woman in the video. I'm not sure how the video relates to the song, but chubby bloke with a beard seems to be some kind of explorer and the band seem to be there for the free lunch. Note some natty percussion by aforementioned singer-dude.



This video is for the song Rosanna, which is probably the band's most famous song. It features a more moody setting, amplified by fencing, leather jackets and sunglasses. There also appears to be some kind of West Side Story thing going on, with what looks like bands getting together for a rumble and endless finger clicking. A good song because it comes in three distinct parts, like a Shakespeare play or a Tracker bar (with its layers of crunch, goo and chew).



No more Toto, but a rather good song by Robert Palmer. Honestly, forget that it's Robert Palmer and you'll see it for the good piece of elecropop that it is. If it sounds familiar it's because it was flounced up and used on adverts for Renault in the 80s and 90s or because you've heard it before.



[Edit] Why is it that Placebo insist on doing fucking piss poor covers of songs that I like?

US election tomorrow. Please, America, do the right thing.

This is all.

I'm currently at work on stolen broadband, which is a pretty shitty way of getting online. I am switching my ISP to O2 (who are offering light speed connection and Soviet efficiency) but it takes time. We have been offline for about a week and a half now, and it's shocked me just how much we use it.

The good good news is that I am back at my job now, after my hiatus away at the shitty, difficult house. It's a great feeling to be back within my safety zone and doing things that I am comfortable with for people who actually appreciate what I am doing for them. The difference between that place and this is incredible. I don't think that this is the place to be talking about the finer points of what I went through when I was there, but suffice to say that I am relived to be back where I belong.

It's not all good in my life at the moment though.

Just when you get into a real flow of buying a DVD boxset, they change the fucking boxes. Kate and I had got right up to For Your Eyes Only in our James Bond collection when we found that the same DVDs (ie not some other collection or whatever) are in different coloured boxes. What an annoyance. Why these people can't just leave well alone is beyond me. I now have three (three!) different box styles in my Bond Collection, and that frankly just doesn't cut the mustard. On the positive side, I found that A View To A Kill, a movie that I had always avoided on the assumption of it being crap, was actually top notch Bond. With Christopher Walken. Christopher Walken!

I have nothing more to say now (and technically I should be working) so I shall sign off for now. I just wanted to let you know that I'm not dead, or any less morose than I was before.

Oh, watch this if you love new wave music and contemporary dance. And watch it even if you don't, it's just cool.