May 2006 Archives -

Cabbies know about everything. Fact.

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Imagine you’re a cabbie waiting to drive a technology editor back from an interview at the BBC television centre. Imagine your surprise when, after you turn up early, you’re grabbed by the floor manager, mistaken for the editor and plonked in front of cameras – and interviewed, live on air, about the latest Apple Computer vs Beatles debacle. Imagine bluffing your way through quite spectacularly…
Don’t worry – there’s no need to imagine – here’s the evidence. The expression on the poor cabbie’s face is priceless…! Here’s a Guardian article on it, here’s loads of news articles on it, and here’s the video. Awesome.

The Right Man

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Now, I’m not usually one to dabble in American politics on here. Bloggerheads is the place to go for that stuff. However, that’s not to say I don’t follow the yanks with their political planks. I don’t know how many of you have stumbled on The Daily Show, broadcast in America and syndicated over here – it’s meant to be a humourous view of American politics, but manages to be almost the only truthful show out there. The video archive site YouTube has loads of show clips – have a look at all of these. The show came to reach epic proportions when its presenter Jon Stewart went on a “serious” political discussion show Crossfire, and instead of being funny managed to rip them to shreds – so much so that Crossfire was taken off the air a couple of months later. Jon Stewart gave his reaction to the appearance, too.
The reason I’m telling you this? Well, tonight I found this gem of a clip from The Daily Show that manages to ridicule President Bush so brilliantly simply. I’m in awe of the show and its presenter, can you tell?

Pagans and other humdrum Scottish notes…

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“So are we only going to expect updates to the mighty when you meet celebrities?” said a solitary email that flooded into my mailbox a few minutes ago. Now, less of the sarcasm, mister. I suppose I should be glad that someone’s noticed there’s been an update – my audience must have dwindled a little over the last few months, while I flew around making business and personal ends meet and generally working myself into a frenzy. As it happens, I came back last week from Edinburgh. It was a dull week, by all accounts – the glorious sunshine that bathed the south of England didn’t manage to reach the wilds of Scotland – but the hotel made it all the better. It’s the only Edinburgh hotel I’ve stayed in, one where all the staff make a decent stab at looking happy about life. It’s called The Glasshouse, a converted church that sits at the bottom of an ominous hill. An ominous hill, I found out the next morning, that hosted a “pagan sex festival” the night before, which may explain the random clothes I saw as I looked out my hotel window. I mentioned it to my friend Marcel, who immediately incriminated himself by identifying the event as the Beltane. “Ah, I remember those days,” he muttered, allowing me to inwardly combust with shock and awe at this seemingly straight-laced man.
Anyway, Edinburgh’s nice. Very nice. But not nice enough to make me long for home on the third morning up there. There’s nothing like a girlfriend, a 40″ television and an XBOX 360 to come home to on Friday evening, let me tell you…