| Monday, March 27, 2006 |
 | It looks like it's one out, one in for peace campaigners. John Kember is free, Brian Haw is imprisoned. It's the only language they understand, you know.
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| Tuesday, March 21, 2006 |
| Gosh. Middle-class people with university degrees often do quite well for themselves. The Guardian never ceases to amaze. With t3h suck.
Elsewhere, being directed to this startlingly awful but hypnotic and indubitably memorable radio advert for Flintshire Motors reminded me of Don Amott. Don Amott was Derbyshire's caravan king. Throughout the East Midlands, a child could be confident that a bond could be formed with any wight, be they ever so froward, by the stentorian assertion of Amott's royalty, and the reciprocal belllowing of the complementary phrase. Many a fight was averted by this ritual, after which both parties were left feeling sated but a little shamed.
For long years, along with Ultra Magnus' status as a gay icon and the Joycean subtexts in Ulysses 31, I found myself unable precisely to explain what all of this meant to more sophisticated minds. Now, however, thanks to the Internet, the clouds have meaning.
Go here, and listen to the Don Amott jingle. Do that about three times in a row. Repeat every couple of hours every day for the next decade. Then have a think about whether poor site usability is the only thing for which Smith East Associates must be punished.
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| Friday, March 17, 2006 |
| Having written absolutely the third-best high-school shooting book I've read this year (currently sitting at my desk at home like a latchkey child), Lionel Shriver appears to be intent on carving out a niche as the latest eye-bleedingly dim columnist the Guardian seems intent on funding out of some misplaced sense of duty to the slower children, after first Burchill then Bindel (who at least theoretically had a use). Admittedly, I might feel less ant-scrotummy about the whole thing if her byline photo did not involve a sleeveless denim jacket, but nonetheless:
"Police seize golliwogs from shop after racism claim." In Bromyard, Herefordshire, police have confiscated three golliwogs from another shop window, acting on another complaint, and in accordance with the Public Order Act banning the display of material that "might cause alarm, harassment or distress". Now, in my day it was supposed to be racist that most dolls, such as Barbie, were white. Now it's racist that they're black. Please explain.
"Please explain", as someone with a little more wit would know, was the accidental catchphrase of the legendarily moronic Pauline Hanson. After having first, in an article on childless couples, lamented the dying of the middle-class Anglo-Saxon race (we're the real minority now blah blah fishcakes), Shriver is clearly positioning herself in the same bracket as the mouthpiece of common sense, by which I mean "unexamined smuggo toss".
Between this and the Matrix Sorceror, this is a week of violent rages.
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