This Blog In September 2001: Day Nineteen.

Drink Hey everyone, something of quandary. Whenever you don't have time to blog, should you write an entry to say that you don't have time to blog, who simply not blog? Either way, I'm going out to the pub, and so well ... you'll have to look elsewhere for your enlightenment. Try one from the list of 'happenings' to the bottom right, or take a chance with the webrings on the bottom left ... I'm sure you'll find something at least a bit funny...

This Blog In September 2001: Day Eighteen.

Books I’d forgotten I was going to see Dave Gorman read from his new book 'Are you Dave Gorman?' tonight. Or rather I’d forgotten until yesterday, when I remembered. As always when deciding these things, I have to weigh up whether its worth staying late in Manchester in the knowledge that I won’t be home by ten o’clock, and I’ve been a bit trepidatious about visiting these Waterstones readings in the past – but I decided that as this was a personality I was onto a good thing.

The arts section had been done out in flimsy plastic chairs for occasion. The room filled and eventually a man looking for all the worlds like the ‘It’s…’ character in Monty Python approached from the side and spoke in a voice entirely familiar to fans of Droopy: “Thank you for coming to this reading at Waterstones. Tonight we have Dave Gorman and his friend Danny Wallace reading from their book. So let’s welcome Dave Gorman and Danny Wallace.”

There is something about almost famous people in person. They’re not larger than life characters to begin with, and so when you meet them, it’s a bit like seeing someone at a party. And so it went. Strangely Danny Wallace (who sat silently during the TV series) had as much to say as Dave Gorman, perhaps making up for lost time. Luckily, they are both automatically funny and so were able to paper over cracks in the presentation.

We were aware from the beginning that Dave would not be doing stand-up – he really would be reading from a book. Amusingly, the audience got to choose between the actual book, a DIY handbook and a book about Heraldry. Luckily for them we chose their book (it would have taken a Herculean task for anything else) and the two set about reading.

The first section dealt with their first meeting and subsequently how the bet began. For those not in the know, this consisted of Gorman betting Wallace that he could find fifty-four Dave Gormans, including the jokers. A fool task, entirely paid for on a credit card, but instant material for the comedian. Both were clear readers, Gorman’s writing in particular mirroring his stand-up delivery. Wallace’s words exude his obvious journalistic background. The second section, chosen at random from a deck of cards spoke of the Israeli Dave Gorman – somewhat prescient.

As if to prove that you can’t get away from anything in the Q&A section, the mood darkened as someone asked why Gorman had cancelled a gig at The Lowry Gallery. It was because he was flying to New York for a six week run in an off-off-Broadway theatre in the seclusion zone....

Art During it's recent refurbishment Tate Britain tried a noble experiment. Forgoing the traditional chronological hanging method, they grouped the pictures into themes. This had the effect of taking the works from their original contexts. In the past few weeks, they've back tracked somewhat, and there are now galleries dedicated to single artists. How dull.

Music Liam Gallagher offers his usual rational response to International politics: "I ain't fucking going to New York again. I'm never going to America again man. I'm staying put. I ain't getting on a plane for a long time." Oasis never made it in America, did they?

History The 80s Sever presents the hyperlink essay, "Children Of The Eighties" by Bryant Adkins. It's mostly American but there are one or two things I can relate to: "On weeknights Daisy Duke was my future wife. I was going to own the General Lee and shoot dynamite arrows out the back. Why did they weld the doors shut?"

This Blog In September 2001: Day Seventeen.

Life People are describing this time as the aftermath. After what? This isn't over yet. Not yet. This is a pause. A respite. A moment of reflection. A preparation for the coming whatever.

Sounds Whenever I'm at the supermarket with my parents, we always get separated. I'll be off in the bread isle when they'll disappear into the frozen food. The only way we'll ever find each other is a whistle -- a particular whistle we only know. My Dad's is the best -- it's loud and turns the heads of all about. By comparison mine is a whisper -- they need to be an isle away before they can hear it -- sometimes just in front. I thought it was just us. But it seems many family have some way of communicating over long distances. This month's Lost and Found sound is 'The Loon Call' a whine which radio producer's Brent Runyon's family have used for generations to call each other to dinner -- which he unfortunately can't replicate. Can I relate...

Money I know almost nothing about the markets -- but even I know this can't be good...

Yeah! I've had a via from the blog which made me want to start all this in the first place linkmachinego. Thanks for reading...

This Blog In September 2001: Day Sixteen.

TV Turning the classic movie 'Clerks' into a US network cartoon series was a massive job, and a definite risk -- would fans be happy about the toned down dialogue and would the audience understand the in-jokes or humour. Well they didn't and the show was cancelled after just two episodes. And here is one of them available for viewing at iFilm -- Click here -- it's really rather good.

Ugh! The genius behind this boxset must surely have been behind this and this. It's almost as though they've visited the Internet Movie Database and looked for all of the miss-steps in an actors career to collect together for our entertainment. This, however must be applauded for its far-sightedness.

Review! Anonymous Juice reviews The Knobs at the Virgin Megastore Listening Booth: "In the Megastore the listening booth was crowded with Geri Halliwell fans. They're a serious bunch: they stand with their legs apart, foreheads bowed, listening intently for the secret parable inside "It's Raining Men" The only two who were actually moving to the music were the dorks my headphones were sandwiched between."

People When President Bush spoke for the first time after the present crisis began he stumbled. At a time when he should have been capturing the spirit of the the moment he described those behind the act as 'folks' -- as though these were a couple of hicks in the wilderness chasing a bird with bazooka guns. Folks!?! It appears this isn't the first time. This article from The Atlantic, published a week ago describe's Bush's other linguistic errors:

"How can a man who says things like, "Laura and I don't realize how bright our children is sometimes until we get an objective analysis"; "My education message will resignate amongst all parents"; "I know how hard it is for you to put food on your family''; and "I want a foreign-handed foreign policy"—how can this verbal sloven be President of the United States?"

On Radio Five this morning one of Bush's ex-employees apologetically expressed the opinion that whilst the Amercian president is not a good public figure, he is a master in private. In times like these we need someone who is an all rounder surely?

Music Atomic Kitten due home after attack 'trauma' -- was everybody in New York on Tuesday, apart from in our imaginations? Five kitten mentions down, four to go...

This Blog In September 2001: Day Fifteen.

News As journalists begin to acknowledge there is other news happening, I too find it's possible to write and think about other things. I do agree with sentiments at the end of this article [dead link] that everything has changed. The world doesn't seem as interested in showbiz types and soap operas -- real life dramas have become much more potent.

Books Whilst some sections of the BBC On-line website are sleek and indispensable, other creek under the burden of having to be a bit like Radio Four. Buried seep within is this piece, which revels under the title 'Star Wars: Science Fiction or Fantasy.' Featuring bizarre colour choices and a Darth Vader in an 'your empire needs you' pose. Why can't it be both? "Underlying his universe is The Force, a mysterious phenomenon which is part karma, part Holy Ghost and part repository of the identity of the dead and which mostly manifests itself as a means to move objects without touching them. Essentially magic, this, along with the setting "A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away", situates Star Wars more comfortably within the fantasy genre rather than the sf." Doesn't that seem like a post from a long lost usenet flame war?

This Blog In September 2001: Day Fourteen.

Life Observed the three minutes silence in the end today anyway -- strange to be doing so in the kind of office those people lost their lives in. Just underlined how lucky we are to be alive.

Blogs! Still finding it difficult to write anything too intelligible, so I thought I'd present a sample of some of the posts on soem of my favourite blogs over the past few days which have touched me. I'll just list the site name and let their work speak:

sapphireblue
girlhacker
damnyoumaria
caterina
wockerjabby
sublimity
silvergull
girlrepair
annakiss *

The thoughts and stories of the blogging community have been largely ignored by the mainstream media, perhaps because in many cases we find a truer picture.

* These are the names of the blogs which were listed here.  They're all gone away now so no point linking to them.

This Blog In September 2001: Day Thirteen.

Life The bus to the station was deathly quiet again this morning. Apart from a baby crying. It is getting easier to live now, although everything is still in the back of my mind. I simply can't understand why this has affected me, whilst my co-workers and people I see about seem to be able to get on with their lives efficiently. My Mum said it was because of 'The way you are.' I wonder what that means. I think I'm mostly filled with foreboding about the days and months ahead. Even in Liverpool this will never go away -- everyone is connected somehow. I was one of the few to volunteer to take calls tomorrow during the three minutes silence, for those who don't want to respect it (although I can't imagine who). I think the thing which will stand after this is 'perspective'. Suddenly, all of the little niggling things which seemed really important on Monday just don't seem to matter now. It occurred to me earlier I haven't listened to any music since Tuesday morning. I should go do that.

Music Every year I say the same thing. 'God, it's the Last Night of the Proms already'. Once the Summer is over, there is a timetable to Christmas and this is always at the beginning. Things will be different this year as the usual pomp and circumstance are being replaced by sombre songs, which underlines how people have no idea how to cope. It would have been difficult to proceed with the show with the usual material so this can only be expected.

It was strange watching the ceremony at Buckingham Palace today, British people who knew the words to 'Land of the Free', standing with their hands on their hearts. Americans seem to be able to show patriotism without straying into nationalism -- I think it's rubbing off and this can only be good thing. After all, just like them, we are generally one nation under some flag.

Art We are living in surreal times...