Reading Update

Just finished reading "Have Mercy On Us All" (Commissaire Adamsberg Investigates) by Fred Vargas. Fred is a historian and archaeologist, with a scientist mother and an intellectual father ("Why crime? I think now because it was the one thing that my father, an incredibly cultured man, detested") and an artist sister with the same pseudonymous surname. She also leads the campaign to stop the removal of Cesare Battisti (formerly of the Italian "terror cell" Armed Proletarians for Communism turned French crime writer) from France to an Italian jail.
Commissaire Adamsberg is very fine, and I am looking forward to reading the second (and last until the Battisti business is resolved, apparently).

I searched for some article on Ms Vargas on the web, and made the mistake of hitting google's Translate This button. It started like this:

"Fred Vargas, author with success of polars and enquiring recognized at CNRS, are one of the principal coordinatrices of the committees of support for Cesare Battisti. It worked (the day, the night) with the drafting d'un delivers urgent: "the truth on Cesare Battisti." with the editions Viviane Hamy , editor who s'est also committed in this combat. Urgent book , because it possible that Battisti leaves France this month, is menotté, to finish its days in prison in Italy."

Well I suppose you get the general idea. Doug and Carole gave me Alan Bennett's "Untold Stories" for my birthday. In the short preface to the Diary section it says:

"...in earlier diaries much more of what I wrote down had to do with what I did whereas lately the entries are more often occassioned by what I've read or seen on television. I should get out more..."

Touché!

Soup

For those of you looking for soup-related proverbs...

Quiz time

Who are the only two British Prime Ministers to have won an election since 1935 (Stanley Baldwin) who were not educated at Oxford?

And while we're at it, who was the only PM to have played for I Zingari?

A plea from France

I received the following from an English woman transplanted to Paris (though "there is a thief at english post office" sounds like classical foreigner's English to me).

"can't do amazon uk you know because there is a thief at english post office who steals everything, from amazon uk books (repeatedly) to boys' anoraks forgotten at her house and returned by my godmother to birthday presents sent by my sister to books sent to my office. only things from england to france get lost, not vice versa"

Do you have similar fascinating international postal service stories? Please feel free to share them, and let us also hope that english post office returns her shift key to her soon.

Detectives and David Cameron

"He is ardently pro-American and for the Iraq war." So says Andrew "taken any good drugs lately" Rawnsley. Oh well. So much for that then. He seemed like such a nice boy (Cameron, not Rawnsley). I saw the latter in the flesh once and he was tailor-made for the "small but perfectly formed" description. I instinctively distrust anyone so immaculately dressed.

On the bright side, I have discovered a new detective, Inspector Montalbano of Sicily. The Terracota Dog by Andrea Camilleri - who I assumed was a woman, so what do I know - was great and I have ordered the remaining extant translations online from my spanking new library. Papayoudily recommends this book! The blurb makes comparisons with Columbo, Philip Marlowe, Michael Dibdin, Donna Leon and the "culinary idiosyncrasies of an Italian Maigret". Fearless of the vengeful qualities of tyhe Society of Blurb Writers, I shall return to this topic shortly.

Surely they are related

One is the President of Syria. The other is Roger.

Blurbs

"Meteorites fall from heaven but seldom onto the heads of science dons in redbrick universities. Yet this is what happened to Professor Pluckrose of Nestfield University."
It is always a mistake to read blurbs. I once read one which revealed something that happened on page 290 of a 310 page book. Though in the case of "The weight of the evidence" (Penguin Crime, 1961) it might have served as a warning, and it wouldn't have been blocking up my bookcase for god knows how many years.

One Eye to the Needle

By the end of the day I have stuck Sarah Lucas' cover of G2 on my notice board, "GOD IS DAD". No harm in reminding the children, constantly. Today Sam, "yes I've got everything dad", forgot his wallet, his locker key, bus pass, jarvis card and religious studies folder. He remembered the note I typed for him this morning that his religious studies homework had been left in his trouser pocket and washed and reincarnated as a thousand pieces of white bits that I am still trying to pick up.

In my latest attempt to clear up everything, I came across these Maori proverbs (written down around the time of the Lions tour in the spring)

"Strip away the bark and expose the heartwood"

and, more enigmatically,

"No matter what colour the cotton may be, there's only one eye to the needle"

Apple Fest

Saturday off to the Apple Affair at West Dean with Mum, Jessica and Susanna (Sam out partying). More apples than you can shake a stick at. Later I meet with the boys and tell them I missed the chutney workshop (11am). Aside from the usual ribald suggestions, it is generally agreed that Chutney Workshop are some sort of below par prog rock band.

Which reminds me, one of the quiz questions concerned an albatross - 3 below par (see also birdies and eagles). In fact the more below par, the better from a golf point of view. Yet in common usage par (for the course) just means average, hence below par being poor. Fascinating, non?

More Divorce

By October 14, a Guardian journalist has telephoned all the workplaces in the Hollingbury Industrial Estate to try and locate a Wendy S (the first poster was initialled JBS) without success.

I Zarqawi

I think Al Qaida should field a touring cricket team
under the title I Zarqawi.

Mr Lebanon

So farewell then Ghazi Kenaan. What a loss to historians. The man who knew everything about what really happened in Lebanon in the last two decades. I wonder if he knew he committed suicide?

Flames of Hell

I had a call from mum while at The Basketmakers having a swift couple at lunchtime. "Are you in the pub? I thought so" she laughed. Returning through the North Laine (the best part of Brighton, already invaded by Starbucks and under serious threat) I remembered being shocked the first time I went to the pub with my dad for "a swift half", and discovered this could mean three pints.
It wasn't until I had my own children, and well after dad had died, that I realised that that his exclamation in extremis - "Fffffflames of hell!" wasn't quite what it seemed. I never heard my father use the f-word, not something my children will be able to say.

Blogospherical Ontology

If a blog is posted, but no one knows it is there, does it exist? I am mainly thinking about this for libel purposes. But hark. Wasn't that a leaf falling?

TV

I watch TV for about 60 seconds (Jack Straw) and it sends me into a rage. That's why I restrict myseflf to cricket and Seinfeld. I spent two years filling in a day-by-day listening and viewing diary for the people who compile the ratings (thanks: zero). If they'd taken any notice of me, we'd all now only be able to listen to Test Match Special and Radio 4 comedy shows.

Pub

I sat down in the pub in the afternoon at the same table as some other bloke, sixtysomething. "Hello mate". I've only sat there as it is by the window and there is enough light for my failing eyes to read the paper. "I'm addicted to crime...my dear old little old mum was a humble cleaner, used to work for Francis Bacon...you should always carry a weapon (searches for waiter's friend then holds corkscrew part between fingers) you can blind a bloke with this...I've done time in Parkhurst, all over the place...I've done a lot of porridge.. what's Brighton like these days? I was here on the run in the seventies.. I was certified insane at Broadmoor...Reggie Kray...east end boy...lived round the corner blah blah blah"

His disposition is unthreatening, but he fails to notice I just want to read the cricket report in the Guardian.

Divorce

Today the following appeared in the Argus (our local Brighton newspaper)

'Drivers saw the start of the drama last week when a banner was hung over a bridge over the A27 in Brighton bearing the initials JBS and the words: "Wendy, I want a divorce".
Now it seems Wendy has taken her revenge.
A new banner went up yesterday saying: "No way - you are the cheat! Wendy".'

This was only the only hard "news" (57 words) in an article of nearly 800 words. Still, at least they had the photos and, as Gregor has buggered off to Scotland and left me without a squash partner for a fortnight, I wouldn't have seen the response otherwise. I remember seeing the "JBS" in small letters at the bottom of the first banner. Will the Argus investigate? I don't think so.

I just caught myself about to change the "over a bridge over the A27" to "on a bridge over the A27" but then realised it was a quote.

Jack Straw

I've just seen that fucking two-faced xxxx on the tv trying to defend the war. I remember seeing him at a rally in Hyde Park a year or so before things could only get better. He promised to repeal the anti-asylum seeker legislation put in place by the Tories. He forgot to mention he was going to replace it with a raft of worse shit. And now the war. I met a member of the NEC at a party the other day, and told her I'd voted Green at the last election but, to my shame, forgot to mention why. IT'S BECAUSE OF THE (DISGRACEFUL. DISGUSTING, APPALLING - it really is- SHAMEFUL, IMMORAL, take your pick) WAR. rant rant rant rant. Don't get me started. Jack Straw is an asshole. Can I be prosecuted under the Prevention of Terrorism Act for this sentiment? Tony and George are guided by God, so at least they have the defence of insanity. What the fuck's your excuse, Jack?

Papayoudilly

Yesterday I told Susanna about this blog. When she heard what I'd called it (after one of her many nicknames for me) she went "Really?". She laughed then said, "You idiot".

Smack on wheels

Ater Bikram Hot Yoga, James and I retire to the Evening Star for retox. Is the time right to stand on a Free Heroin for Pensioners ticket? No worries about heating (mmm, the warmth), no nasty colds, say goodbye to aches and pains and who cares if you can't afford a square meal? Nod off all day in a pain free way on a pure pharmaceutical class A analgesic. Heroin was meant for the elderly. Let 'em have it.

Driving

I was driving to meet Gregor to play squash at the university, when I saw a banner displayed from a bridge over the dual carriageway. Normally they are along the lines of "Happy Birthday Julie!". This one said "WENDY. I WANT A DIVORCE".

Beer Festival

On Saturday I went to the Hanover beer festival and got drunk with Doug. The next day I showed my commemorative glass to Susanna, who read out
"The Eighteenth Annual Hangover Beer Festival".