TINKER TAILOR SOLDIER SNOOZE

(MY FAVOURITE FILM REVIEW SITE ON THE WEB.)

"GARY!  GARY!  WAKE UP!"

Everyone says they don’t take any notice of what film critics say, but, in reality, we only don’t if they tend to say something bad about a film we want to see.  For example, when Iron Man got rave reviews I wanted to see it, but only because I’d made my mind up that I wanted to see it anyway . . .  Likewise Watchmen and same for Stupid Crazy Love (or is it Crazy Stupid Love?  I always get that one muddled up.)  But occasionally the critics lead us to films and when we see them we can’t help but wonder if they were watching the same film we were and the above is a good example of that.

When Tinker Tailor was coming out rave reviews were everywhere, it was almost like the critics were falling over each other to get their four or five star rating onto the sodding poster, and while I was keen to see it anyway, this wetted my appetite even further.  However after sitting through 2 and a half hours with a friend I felt like asking him if we had sat through the same film as the critics.  To say that it was far too slow, dreary and with a far too obvious villain feels like it’s something I shouldn’t say for a critically acclaimed film, but it was, and it’s not the first time I’ve been here before with both cerebral and action films.

My point is that film critics are supposed to be impartial, we want them to be like judges, BUT in that respect they are because they are only human and sometimes, they do get it wrong.  But with that in mind, with the fact that clearly there are gonna be certain films that certain critics prefer over others, wouldn’t it be good if there was a way of knowing what kind of films the critic likes so we can gauge whether the film their reviewing is a film we will like, not because of their score but also because we know the kind of filums that they are into.

And so with that in mind I urge my regular readers to take a visit to my favourite film review site, that reviews not just new films but also has covered a number of classic re-releases this year.  You might not always agree with her reviews (I know I don’t) BUT her arguments for many films is usually sound (Love the Red Riding Hood review!)  so sit back and let your fingers click the linking (what???)

http://willow23s-filmreviews2011.blogspot.com/

It comes complete with a rating system and a list of films viewed over the last 12 months down the right hand side, so if she’s seen it, it’s there.

Enjoy folks!

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Britain’s Biggest Baddest Bad loser

(Or the real reason the UK fell out of love with the X-Factor!)

So the third rule of war that pretty much everyone knows is:  Never, ever start a war on two fronts.  That is the third rule if you’ve seen “The Princess Bride”, the first two of which are never start a land war in Asia and never go up against a Scicilian when death is on the line.  Now, as I mentioned, the third rule of war is one of those that everyone knows, except three sets of people ...Megalomaniacs ...US Presidents ...And Simon Cowell.

Over the last twelve months or so, after splitting himself a tad thin with “Britain’s got talent”, “American Idol”, “X-factor” and setting up “X-factor USA” Simon Cowell decided to ditch the anchor that no doubt he saw as finally holding him back (probably how he saw it) which was the “X-factor UK” and palm it off onto some random people in the UK and dart off to america to hit the big-time (????)

Since this journey stateside started however, a number of cracks have started to appear in Mr Cowell's previously glorious defences.

Some might say the decision to replace natural (. . . Ish!) Cheryl Cole with robotic Nicole Share-Singer (got myself a crying, talking, sleeping, walking living “pussycat” doll!) showed that he was losing the ability to judge, but more bizarre than that even has been how badly affected the UK version has been hit, not perhaps by his lack of presence as a judge, but by his missing hand as head of the series.  Because being a judge is not as easy as it looks. And when you make 3 wholesale changes to only 4 positions mistakes are bound to be made.

Obviously, the thing to do to give yourself the best shot of having a successful series is to make sure that your final hundred or whatever is loaded with great singers and that was one mistake that was made at the outset of this series, although to be fair to the new three, sometimes this is easier said than done, and even our old favourite judges in the past were far from perfect as this clip of the BVB (big voiced babe) Suzie BT shows, sometimes it’s far harder to listen with the head as it should be when the heart gets in the way.  

With a number of great voices forgotten about way before they should have been or else disastrously loaded into groups and going out early(Remember Miss Frank ...way to avoid that?  Do what they did with One Dimension ...and have no lead singers!) and some of the choices of final 16 and then 12 being extremely dubious(Cocainer shouldn’t have been anywhere need the top.  Not because of the drugs thing, but simply because he was shit!) what has become painfully obvious is that the main aim of these talent shows has long since been forgotten.  Back in 2001 before the first reality music show "Pop Stars" music sales were collapsing, with piracy rife both online and even on personal levels no-one seemed to care about music anymore.  Some would say that the rise of utterly anonymous and instantly forgettable dance music acts mixed with samey manufactured turd boy-bands was more what killed the industry, but anyway, my point is, nobody cared.  

So the original remit of "Pop Stars" (which was a pre-cursor for "Pop Idol" which was a pre-cursor for "X-Factor") was to reawaken people’s love of music and song, and for a time it was very successful, but as time has gone by what we have seen is the same songs being used, time after time after time.  We have had various Queen weeks, Beatles Weeks, Rock weeks, Big band weeks even a Britney Week.  No Elvis week, Hollies week, Beach-boys week, Slade week, Madonna week, Stevie Wonder week or even a Bowie week.  Now we just tend to see the same songs regurgitated week after week in usually insipid fashion.  

But in spite of all these things there has arguably been an even bigger reason as to why the UK has fallen so out of love with the X-Factor and it’s all to do with when a certain Mister Cowell really became incapable of taking no for an answer.  

Now, the first time this happened in a big way is arguably when Will Young won the first ever series of "Pop Idol" with Cowell’s preferred winner Gareth Gates coming a close second.  In spite of scoring higher sales in the singles charts, however, in the albums stakes Gareth Gates was a distant second to Mister Young.  Simon Cowell was a victim of his own plans success; music had won.

However in 2009 Simon Cowell’s dark-side resurfaced when a little scottish woman entered his life on "Britain’s got talent".  Most people remember exactly where the were when they first saw Susan Boyle not just stun Britain but stun the world.  I remember were I was.  I was watching "Britain’s got talent on our old sofa".  When Susan came out of nowhere the media went nuts, she became the favourite to win and Youtube seemed to be in meltdown with people watching the video of her stunning the audience over and over again.  If Simon Cowell could have sold shares in Susan and floated her on the stock market (chortle!) then I’m sure he would have.  Nothing could stop her winning Britain’s got talent, could it?  Well actually ...yes.

What everyone seemed to forget, including Mister Cowell, is what a devastating effect the media pack would have on the sensitive Ms Boyle’s temperament, but also that someone else could actually come along and perform so well that they could actually win.  On the night of the final Susan was ...well, she was okay, but DIVERSITY were awesome and were very worthy winners.  They were the ones that would appear at the Royal Variety Performance ...Susan would not.  

This was not what Mister Cowell wanted.  The media wanted a Susan win, he wanted a Susan win, so Susan must win.  In spite of the fact that she came second, in spite of the fact that the point of the prize was that it marked the winner out as special, Susan had to win, and win she did.  As well as Diversity, Susan Boyle also performed at that year’s Royal Variety Performance and Simon turned her into a global superstar.  Diversity, by comparison, did okay.

The interesting thing is that since this little turn of events, the same thing has pretty much happened on both subsequent series of X-Factor.  In 2009 Joe McElderry won the X-Factor, he had a single out initially and then nothing was heard from him for about 8 months.

Simon, then get’s his losing act Olly Murs out into the public eye during that time, gets a single out, appears on the X-Factor and has a subsequent single out quickly after.  Unlike Joe he was allowed to gain an audience and keep it by keeping in the media’s attention.  Joe was let go.  

Skip forward twelve months ...Matt Cardle, clearly best singer, performer and best act, 

Same story, slight difference.  Unlike Joe, Matt has a MASSIVE first single, then, nothing for eight months, in the meantime, Simon’s losing act, One Dimension, are kept in the public eye all the time with books, T-shirts, posters out all year (they hadn’t actually had any records out and yet they had TWO books written about them.  ????) and again have two singles out in quick succession.  Simon’s act lost the X-Factor for one simple reason ...They weren’t good enough, as live performer’s or as singers, but these days the music isn’t allowed to win.

And I suspect more than anything this is why the UK has fallen so out of love with the X-Factor.  It’s like voting for a political party in an election and then finding out the the person who won it won’t get to form a government because the person who organised the election prefers someone else.  If the whole point of voting is that someone else wins, then what is the point of voting.  

Simon Cowell’s pride may be damaged by the fact that he can’t make a winning act but his commitment to creating successful career’s for his losing acts means that whatever the public do, whatever the public want their wishes are going to be ignored and winning acts tossed onto the scrapheap soon after the competition ends in preference for the acts Simon has worked with.  This, more than anything, I suspect, is why the UK has so fallen out of love with the X-Factor.  Yes, he had spread himself thin, which hasn’t helped things, but the fact that personal bias of a judge rather than impartiality is what guarantees success stands against the central notion of the show.

The show represents the dreams of, perhaps, a fairer society, a meritocrasy, where those with the talent and ability are allowed, not just to showcase their abilities, but gain the deserved success from them.  Now that show is about who your mentor is rather than how good you are, then one can argue that said show’s days are numbered.

I’ve been Mr Chatable.

Please remember my first book FREE AT LAST:  A NOVEL is available for Kindle on Amazon for only £2.29 and only $2.99 on Amazon.com for US fans.  Enjoy and drive safe.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rGBWz2Rxu94
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POWER CUT (OR HOW TO POST A STORY AND ANNOY YOUR SISTER!)

So there I was all set to give Kath this story (which was written five months ago) when lo and behold the one thing that I didn’t want to happen happened.  It started to come true.  Unfortunately this has forced my hand and meant that I here I am having to post the story early on my own blog (sorry, Kath.)  

So here is my latest and greatest story outside of my book...

POWER CUT

The rest of the house had been rendered free of clutter.  The linen from the bed was the house’ own, the toilet had no carpet, the bathroom no shower gel and the children’s rooms had a show home look that no real child’s bedroom would ever have.  The only room that held any of its previous occupants stay was the office, the central power station, engine room to an entire nation.  Gerard Kingman packed the box with all his photo’s and personal objects with pride and care.  Everything in this box meant something to him, everything left held nothing for him.  The removal men had long since gone and the house was now a blank canvas for the next incumbent, that was the way things were, the way they had to be, everyone needed that blank slate when they started this job.  Packing all the artifacts away was like taking a personal journey through his own premiership,as he checked all the drawers, making sure that everything was in its proper place and that, when he left, everything would be proper.

  Outside Kingman heard a few cheers as a car headed into Downing Street and as he peered out of the window he saw his successor emerging from the vehicle ,beaming grin, eyes full of hope, heart full of pride as he started the same journey as Gerard, a journey that would inevitably have the same conclusion.  The door to ten Downing Street opened and Gerard could hear the new PM being congratulated by HIS staff on the new guy’s win.  To be fair they wouldn’t be his staff for much longer, but Gerard couldn’t help but feel slightly betrayed, like seeing an ex start up a relationship with someone before you; you know you have no right to feel jealous but that doesn’t mean you can stop those feelings from happening.  As he placed a picture of himself, the US President and their respective families carefully away in the box, Tom Broad, current opposition leader and the new Prime Minister in waiting appeared in the doorway, his hands in pockets, he stopped as he saw Gerard packing his stuff away and knocked gingerly on the door in a vain attempt at humility.

  “Knock, knock!” said Tom, timidly stepping over the doorway into the office.  “Mind if I come in?”

  “It’s your office now,” replied Gerard without looking back at Tom.  There wasn’t really a need as Tom was busy scanning the office with eyes like a birthday boy, slavering over a cake.

  “Not yet,” said Tom, finally bringing his attention back to Gerard.  “I have to ask the Queen first if I can form her Government.”

  “She’ll give her blessing,” replied Gerard as he test lifted the box to make sure it was liftable ...it was.  “That’s just a constitutional formality.”

  Gerard looked up to see his counterpart.  In a way Gerard felt like the picture of Dorian Grey.  He was looking at a man who was not much different from himself when he started out; boyish good looks for a guy in his forties, hair gone back a bit but retaining its colour, and a devilish glint in his eye.  In five years, Gerard had gone from being that to a man who looked like he was pushing sixty.  His hair had gone completely white, his skin was now mottled with liver spots and he had bags under his eyes that were so big it was like he was carrying the weekly shopping there from an endless amount of sleepless nights.

  “Any advice for me?” asked Tom with a grin that said he wasn’t about to listen.

 Gerard felt like telling him to run, to get in his car and head for another country and let history pick some other poor bastard to run the UK and have their health ruined while he got on with having a stress-free, satisfying and healthy life.  But he knew he would laugh it off in exactly the same way he would’ve five years ago thinking it would never happen to him.

  “I can’t give you any advice because I know you won’t take it,” replied Gerard.

  “You don’t know that,” said Tom, cheerily.

  “Yes I do, because I didn’t listen to my predecessor’s advice and he didn’t listen to the predecessor before him.  That’s the way things go ...always,” replied Gerard while taking a good look at the cocky young man in front of him, wondering where his own cocky young man in the mirror went?  “But I will make a prediction for how things will go for you.”

  Tom just looked at him for a moment, hands still in his pockets.  He had gone from arrogant to curious with those few words. He wanted ideally to tell Gerard to stick his predictions up his arse, but he couldn’t help but want to know what he had to say.

  “Go on,” Tom responded.  Gerard smiled, placed his hands on the desk and began.

  “I remember how I felt after I won the election, how all leaders feel.  I felt a huge wave of satisfaction ...self-satisfaction!  It’s not about the team as you get into number ten and begin to work out what you want your premiership to be about.  It’s all about you!” said Gerard.  Tom looked at the floor, slightly embarrassed at the accuracy of his assessment.

  “But the reality is, although you won the election, your team are as much responsible for that win as you are.  Over the last five years they have invaded the public’s mind on every issue; home affairs they think of George Lancaster, foreign affairs and Sarah Claymore is the name, likewise Treasury ...Brian Dix and orchestrating your party’s affairs, Graham Fairweather, making sure your message gets across in any climate.  Most people could name your opposition numbers better than they could name my actual ministers.  They’re your big- hitters,” Gerard continued.

  “Yes they are,” smiled Tom, genuine affection in his voice.

  “Yes they are,” repeated Gerard, gravely.  “And everyone of them will go.”

  “Pardon me?” asked Tom, brow furrowed at the change in tone.

  “Power doesn’t so much corrupt as it makes men fools and women too, actually.  For some reason people tend to think that because they are at the top they are in position where they can’t be knocked down, when in reality the only way is down,” said Gerard.  He stopped to take in his counterpart whose confidence had been replaced by a certain contemplativeness.  “Scandal will engulf some of them as their stupidity will trick them into thinking that they can get away with insider training, fraud and a whole host of unethical escapades, some will die and others will fall foul of their own consciences.  It seems unlikely now with the sacrifices you and your team have made to get to the top but it does happen.  When that does happen, when scandal’s bright lights wipe out your big-hitters you will be isolated, from then on its just a matter of time, like it was with Thatcher, like it was with Major, like it was with Blair, Brown and now, like it is with me.”

  Gerard picked up his box and strode round the desk shifting the weight of it to his left arm he held out his hand to Tom Broad who looked at it like it was a cursed artifact for a moment before grabbing it with both hands and shaking it vigorously.

  “Good luck, Prime Minster,” said Gerard, stopping Tom mid-shake.

  “Thank you,” said Tom.  Gerard withdrew his hand and left ten Downing Street via a back door, far from the press pack and with at least a little private dignity, while Tom Broad sat behind the highly varnished desk of power and leaned back in the ultimate big comfy chair.

  That night Tom Broad lay in bed considering Gerard’s words...

  “when scandal’s bright lights wipe out your big-hitters you will be isolated, from then on its just a matter of time.”

  “What are you thinking about, sweet?”

  “Just something that Gerard Kingman said.  He said that scandal would bring down those around me and that power makes fools of all men,” said Tom, staring at the pitch black ceiling trying to find something of comfort in those words, but finding only empty darkness.

  “Do you believe him?” she asked, her head on his chest, one ear listening to the conversation the other hearing his heartbeat.

  “I don’t know,” said Tom, sounding strangely edgy.  “It’s possible I guess.  I think my lot are a pretty squeaky clean bunch, but you never know do you?  Maybe he has a point; maybe one of them is doing something dodgy right now, just waiting to trip me up.”

  On the bedside cabinet the watch of the most powerful elected official in the country beeped an alarm.

 “Jesus!” said Tom looking at the time.  “Has it been an hour already?”

  “It’s your watch, you set it,” she replied.  “You can’t accuse me of trying to rip you off then,  remember?”

  “Oh yeah, oh yeah, of course, of course, of course,” Tom responded while stepping into his boxers and trousers at remarkable speed.  “So how much do I owe you?”

  “The usual,” she replied demurely.  “Nine-hundred.”

  “Right, right, right,” repeated Tom while removing the cash from his wallet.

  “When will you be able to get away from your wife again?”

  “This weekend should be,” Tom responded while doing up his tie.  “The wife’s got a function.”

  “Cool,” she said reaching for twenty Lambert and Butler.  “Bye then.”

  “See you, then,” Tom called out while leaving the door, eager to seek out a fate he believed others were creating for him, unaware that in his case, he was actually in the process of manufacturing his own demise.

Fin.    


Don't forget my first book "FREE AT LAST: A NOVEL" is available at only £2.29 on Amazon Kindle.


Thanks for reading.


http://www.istockphoto.com/stock-photo-12892453-downing-street-number-10-home-of-the-british-prime-minister.php

CANDLE IN THE COKE - FRANKIE COCOZZA

If ever anyone was looking for a more fitting reason why the UK has gone off the rails so much in world standing then surely Frankie Cocozza is the living embodiment of this.  If he is in the top four undiscovered under-25 male singers when scouring the talent pool in this country then something is desperately wrong.  Not agree with me?  Take a look.

In tribute to this truly world class gent, here is my own Elton John-esqe inspired tribute.

CANDLE IN THE COKE - FRANKIE COCOZZA

Goodbye, Frankie C

Though you were a, pain in the arse

We all loved hating you

and your exit was a farce

Boasted ‘bout cocaine

As your life it, went off the rails

So they forced you off the show

With the wind out of your sails

It occurs to me, your life you lived, like a reality TV star

you had hardly, any talent, yet you thought that you’d go far

And I’m glad that I didn’t know you

Cause a prick is what you seemed

You can now focus back on the girls

Cause that clearly is your dream

DO-DO DO-DO DO-DO DO-DOOOOOOOOOO!

Don’t forget my first book FREE AT LAST: A NOVEL is availble at only £2.29 on Amazon kindle.

Thanks for reading

http://www.sabotagetimes.com/wp-content/uploads/Frankie-Cocozza532_1396883a-234x190.jpg

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a1XZgW8iWpY

The fifth (is it really) in a an occasional series 

Forgotten films that deserve to be remembered.

So, there was I all set in August to put the under-rated emotional masterclass that is Jackie Brown back on the map when the bad boy I’m about to write about to today popped in my head and just wouldn’t leave and although I could wax for hours about “Jackie Brown” and how it just can’t escape “Pulp Fiction”’s shadow the film I will actually write about instead has been so truly forgotten I doubt that anybody reading this will ever have heard of it before.  It is a film that is surprising, entertaining, funny, scary, thrilling and well, at times just mind-blowing.  It all takes place in one house basically and is an acting masterclass by two actors who, in a way, in spite of various films that showcased how good they were, never really get the respect they deserve.  Ladies and Gentlemen I present the case for...

“DEATHTRAP” (1982)

So, Michael Caine plays Sidney Bruhl a former brilliant playwright in something of a slump, with his glory days long gone he has resorted the ignoble profession of teaching, however when Clifford Anderson (played to flawless perfection by Christopher Reeve) a student of one of Sidney's writing seminars, sends Sidney a copy of his first play to review, Sidney sees a way to re-enter the limelight and claim what he sees as his rightful place at the top of the broadway circuit and so Sidney, along with Myra his wife, decide to lure the young playwright to their home, kill him, and market the sure-fire script as Sidney's own. But soon after Clifford arrives, it's becomes very clear that things really aren’t what they seem!

And thus begins a thriller that is surprising, innovative, scary, funny, brilliant (sometimes all at the same time) and yet bizarrely, one of the most forgotten films of all time.  In truth, for those people that have seen it, this was always going to be a difficult sell to an American audience at the start of the nineteen eighties and it makes it all the better that this is when it was made.  I also think that no-one was prepared to accept Christopher Reeve in such a superbly quietly menacing role as this and the chemistry that the two main rival protagonists have is so brilliant that it allows us the viewer to really get absorbed into the action.  The writing is consistently brilliant and the direction, by Sidney Lumet is right up there with “Twelve Angry Men” in that he takes a situation that is lumbered most definitely in play-land and manages to make the claustrophobic limited scenery and turn it into a strangely cinematic experience even though it should be anything but that, largely due to the superb direction and stunning performances, most notably by Caine and Reeve who have rarely been better. 

Probably one of Caine’s Reeves and Lumet’s best films but forgotten to such an extent that it is almost criminal, but if it is criminal I can certainly avenge it on my blog, and if this clip doesn't whet your appetite to watch it then nothing will.  Enjoy!

And for anyone interested don't forget my first book FREE AT LAST: A NOVEL is available on Amazon Kindle.com  .co.uk  .Fre  and even .De.  Enjoy!


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RrGqLW-ySj4
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A SUMMARY OF THE G20 SUMMIT (OR HOW THE ANT AND GRASSHOPPER IS PLAYING OUT IN THE ECONOMIC WORLD)

For many people trying to make sense of the problems of both the Western world and in particular the Eurozone it must seem pretty easy to figure out exactly how to solve the Eurozone debt crisis, but unfortunately the inter-connected world we live in’s problems are not as easy to solve as they first appear.

Many people think that for Greece, Portugal, Spain or Italy to get back on track there should return to their standard currencies.  However for Europe this would be a disaster (if Europe only consisted of Germany and France, that is.)  France’s banks have become inexorably tied to sovereign debts around Europe that may never be able to repaid, this means that if these countries changed their currencies they may never see the money they lent repaid as their currencies inflate out of control.  

And as for the German government, they wisely or foolishly (who knows?) due to their allergic-ness to hyper-inflation (for obvious reasons) have used their influence to keep interest rates across the Eurozone low, they have also during this time, enjoyed the benefit of an extremely low valued Euro to keep the prices of their exports down.  Because of this even with the banks suffering during the credit crunch it has still been something of a boom period for Germany with there actually being a budget surplus rather than a deficit like many western economies.  But this is also why Germany, like France, cannot afford to have the Southern European States leave the Euro.  

If they did leave or there was a two-tier Euro system then Germany’s currency would, in all probability increase in value to a level that would lead to less demand for exports as they become priced out of range for many people during the down-turn across the world.  In many respects the plight of Germany and China are extremely similar as Germany has kept their currency low by being tied to the rest of Europe, while China have kept their currency low by buying a huge amounts of US bonds.  

However, as I said at the beginning of this blog, the world is interconnected and Germany’s problems now are actually quite interesting.  As one of the big players in the new Eurozone, it has fallen to them and to France (largely) to act as guarantor almost for the European Central Bank, so if Greece were to leave the Eurozone they, like France and it’s banks, would have to face the prospect of losing some of the money that they may have pledged to saving Greece through said European Central Bank, while at the same time losing exports due to an increasingly high valued Euro.

But of course as we speak Italy also now faces the prospect of being unable to pay its debt when it falls due, not due to a bloated state, comparative to some countries, but due to its having a playboy premier interested in lowering the taxes for the super-rich while doing little for the working man in the street (of course legally I am forbidden to talk about working girls because . . . )

And as for the US the only reason they also did not default on their debts recently was due to the fact that they increased their debt ceiling.  The US’s debt is the largest in the world and with it’s AAA rating cut, it will have to pay more to service that debt, BUT, it is still doing that from borrowed money as US politicians (ie Republican politicians and the right-wing press) even when they need money to solve the problems that they have from it’s own wealthy citizens insist that problems can’t be solved by having money thrown at them (yeah, that’s why on every secret millionaire show at the end, the poor people always give back the money . . . oh wait.  No they don’t, because it does solve their problems.  UNGH!)  

The US continues to borrow massively to service it’s massive debt and it doesn’t take a genius (eg . . . me!) to see that eventually the cost of borrowing to service that debt will reach the same levels as Greece or Italy without some really hard decisions being made at the top and sadly, US politicians seem to be made of the same fiscal fibre as young Mr Berlusconi.  

Which is leaving all the Western world looking at China and saying help us . . . which is allowing China to say . . . Fuck you!  And amazingly, they’re right to say that.  For decades the western businessman had turned China into the world’s factory.  Its cheap labour and lack of human rights has meant that the Western businessman have loved doing business there and have spent billions in China, which now means that surprisingly to the rest of the world that China is actually rich.  True there are storm clouds on the horizon that the Chinese government is trying to pop before they become Western style economic tsunami’s, but because they aren’t blowing all the cash they’ve got and are trying to spend where they can and be prudent the rest of the time they should survive it, but in spite of the fact that they are still in principal a communist country (No real free elections, state censorship of the media, even Google censored over there,) they have effectively won the cold war.  Now we are having to go cap in hand to them in order to get out of our economic hole that the IMF would suggest we could do if we had enough shovels (WTF???)

You see people the tale of the Grasshopper and the Ant is being played out for real in the world’s economies, and those whose wealthy have gorged on the finest things and the poor proles have gorged themselves on cheap booze and video games have reached winter without any stock and the Chinese worker Ant, who worked hard for the harsh economic weather has just slammed the door in those countries face and said “FIND YOUR OWN FUCKING SHELTER!” 

And they all lived a lot worse off . . . forever! 




And don't forget my first novel (co-wrote with Zoe Lambert) is available to download on Amazon Kindle.


Thanks for listening, and please, don't have nightmares.






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THE TRAGIC RICH OF MANCHESTER!!!

The Rich.  They have it all their own way right?  Wrong!  Dead wrong.  They have it hard.  Harder than you or I could possibly understand.  Why is this?  Because there appears to be something happening to them and I see their suffering every day even though it is something they just don’t talk about, something that’s just too painful for them to share even during these enlightened times.  I’m taking about the stigma of disability.

        (What the hell would someone disabled want with a sports-type car?)

Now this is something I have experience of.  My own sister suffered learning difficulties and my Father’s wife has been confined to a wheelchair for several years so I know it is not something to take lightly, and I can say with hand on heart that I feel for the wealthy folk of Manchester.  Indeed I do.

So, you’re probably wondering why I know that the wealthy folk of Manchester have been so affected  by this.  Well I’ll tell you.

I know that they have been dealt this hand because every single day I walk past dozens (oh yes, dozens!!!) of high-priced top of the line vehicles, the kind of cars that you and I could only hope one day to own, parked around Manchester (Usually near a number of well-priced restaurants and in one case outside a wine-sellers) and there, although admittedly they surely don’t like to advertise it, is the fabled Disabled parking badge.  Now, it is not for me to say that the owners of such BMW’s, Jaguar's, Mercedes Benz, top-of-the-range Land Rovers, Aston Martins (picture not available but that’s what started this blog off!) Bentley’s and even a Rolls Royce do not have need of vehicles to transport those who are less able to move freely, it is not for me to say that corruption or knowing someone may have garnered said badges were the simply is no need; Legally, and also from a moral standpoint, I cannot say this, because put simply, on evidence of the badge itself, it is not true.

However, in times when most of us are struggling simply to get by, when costs are going through the roof on car insurance, heating, transport, food and even the basics that we so take for granted one cannot envy those for whom even the simplest movement can be painful or in some cases impossible, but one can say that were money and privilege have smiled on those individuals, that the benefits of the state (even a simple one like free-parking) must surely be granted to those who are both in need in either mind or body, but also in pocket.

Also please see my other blog with news of my latest venture (A novel no less entitled "FREE AT LAST:  A NOVEL".)

Many Thanks

Mr Chatable.

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