Totally Devoted

Is there anything that you love so much that you have lost all objectivity.? That you would defend to the death, defying all reason and can hear no other side of an argument to?

I don't mean things like "freedom of speech", "democracy" or anything else that we go to war over. I mean is there something that you are a fan of, but that, if you are honest, it has gone beyond that into obsession, fanatism?

The reason I've been pondering this is that in my little bit of freelance writing that I do, I made the mistake of mentioning a certain pop star and the site has since been bombarded with abusive comments and I wouldn't be surprised a death threat was imminent. I'm not going to mention the pop star's name here as it is obvious that these people receive notifications whenever and wherever he is mentioned on the web. All I said was that he was past his best and then the fanatics appeared quoting figures of record sales (since when has that been a mark of quality?) and alternating their messages of hate for me, with their messages of love for him (is he really going to be reading?).

What inspires such blind devotion?

I've given this some thought and there really isn't anything that I feel that passionately about (perhaps I'm missing out?). There are lot of things I love, but not to that extent. Actually, I even feel uncomfortable using the word "love". I love my family, the OH and my friends - feelings I have for a band, television programme, painting or book, aren't the same.

I really like the television programme "The Wire". There was an article in "Sight and Sound" about it recently that wasn't entirely glowing. I agreed with some of their less positive comments (namely the final season wasn't as good as the past ones), other criticisms I didn't agree with, but I've not written to the magazine to complain.

Musically, the band I've liked most consistently for the longest would be Primal Scream, but I will admit that whilst I like their last album, it wasn't as good as their second album, there is at least one album that I don't like at all and a few years back they went through a phase of being dreadful live. I realise they aren't to everyone's taste and I don't now expect to receive abusive comments from other fans on account of these opinions.

Differences of opinion, varying tastes make the world more interesting. And these fanatics are entitled to their opinions too. But its the lack of intelligent, adult debate, the lack of being able to see that someone might disagree with them that I find so hard to understand.

Shout at the television time: The Galaxy British Book Awards

My sort of New Year's Resolution to read more didn't get very far (the slow-changing nature of the My Library widget on this page is testament to that), so I probably have no business watching or criticising The Galaxy British Book Awards. But nonetheless...



Like everything else these days, it had been been hijacked by the Micro-Celebrities. The best biography section dominated by tv stars and won by Russell Brand, the "popular non-fiction" award was won by Ewan McGregor and that other bloke with a motorbike, and Katie Price/Jordan was nominated for her book about pony care.



But worse were some of the celebrity presenters. That man Ross popped up again to present the big prize, obviously not content with his BBC millions, he has to appear on Channel 4 too. Geri Halliwell was even worse though. She looked quite nice with her curly hair and pretty dress - "oohh you look just like a fairy" cooed Judy, and I questionned whether a woman pushing 40 should really want to look like a fairy anymore. Then she started talking about her new book that she had coming out soon and how, as all of the other authors in the audiences would know, she felt so proud of it. You could see "the other authors" i.e. the proper ones, who weren't singers/dancers/presenters, bristle at that. She then exclaimed "I love reading!". Nothing more, no indication of what it was she liked to read.



Most awards shows involve actors and they tend to be pretty good at being the magnanamus loser, even if it isn't genuine and they are putting their acting skills into use. Not so the authors. Some of them tried, but none could hide their disappointment and a few especially failed to hide their outright displeasure, especially if the book that beat them was lower-brow than theirs.



Surprisingly, the best bit of the show was the Richard & Judy Book Club Award. Whilst I'm always quick to remove the "Richard & Judy Book Club" sticker if any book I read happens to have been a choice of theirs, I do think it is a good thing, anything that encourages more reading can't be bad. This prize was won by "A Thousand Splendid Suns" by Khaled Hosseini, who gave a brilliant speech about how he hoped one day another writer from Afghanistan would collect this prize, and that it might one day be a woman. I thought I might cry at this point and I've not even read his book, but then I nearly always cry at awards ceremonies.



The entrants in the Best Newcomer category were reassuringly mature, so I suppose there is hope yet that I might write that novel.

Propaganda Party

I’ve never really understood the hijacking of the arts and sports by government for propaganda purposes. If I was living in poverty under a harsh regime where I couldn’t access news, voice an opinion, or practice my religion, I don’t think my dissent would be quelled because they put on a big street party or made a film saying how great things were.

But it seems to have been a common tactic used by most governments at some point. I’ve been intrigued for a while with the CIA’s championing of Abstract Expressionism in reaction to the Soviet realism. But yesterday, London found itself dragged into China’s propaganda party – the Olympic Torch Relay.

I can’t claim to know that much about the Tibet situation but the blatant use of the Olympics as a means of propaganda by the Chinese government makes me uncomfortable. The relay apparently was a tradition introduced by Hitler, so it is on dodgy grounds anyway. But I can quite understand why sports stars and athletes took part in it as they have genuine pride in the Olympics and the power of sport and most of them do seem to have agonised over whether to take part.

The same cannot be said for the D-list celebrities who also got in on the act yesterday. What business did former Blue Peter Presenter Konnie Huq have being there in the first place? She might play lip service to her love of sport now, but if that was the case just make a donation to a sports charity? What really motivated her and the other celebrities to come to this dubious event, was to keep their own names and faces in the paper.

So now its not just the Governments commandeering these events for their own ends, its also the celebs.

Autocue Millionaire

I’ve never liked Jonathan Ross. I find his interviewing style awful. He’s either too sycophantic or downright rude, but always its more about him than the interviewee. I except that all chat show hosts are going to have large egos, and I suppose I thought of him as being the sort of person you either love or hate.

Then yesterday, I decided to watch Film 2008 on playback. I know it has Ross as the presenter, but I’m interested in films so thought it couldn’t be too bad. I was wrong.

Here is a man being paid millions each year by a public funded organisation that is making cuts to the jobs of proper journalists. I’ve always thought this was a disgrace and cringed at the defence’s use of the word ‘talent’. But yesterday, he surpassed my expectations in how bad he was.

Whilst his interviewing technical is awful, his presenting skills weren’t even professional. It was the worst case of blatant autocue reading I’ve ever seen. He was staring straight at the autocue, reading without blinking. Every statement was a personal response or opinion on the subject matter, but he sounded so bored and as if the words had no meaning to him. I’m struggling to think of an analogue because I’m sure someone reading out a shopping list would put more feeling into it.

Perhaps I caught him on a bad day, but for so many millions, he shouldn’t be having bad days.

Riding the Tube with Bobby G

People who don’t live in London often ask me if I see lots of celebrities around London, and I really don’t tend to. This may be because a) my eyesight isn’t very good, and b) I often struggle to recognise people outside of context in which I know them (for example I once walked past my own mother on the high street, obviously I didn’t recognise her outside of the confine of our house). It also might be down to the fact that I don’t really frequent the sort of places that the rich frequent.

But this morning, I saw Bobby Gillespie on the tube! Actually, the OH saw Bobby Gillespie and I initially doubted him. Unlike me he is often mistaking people for celebrities like the time he was convinced football managers Gerard Houllier and Sven Goran Eriksson were having a pint together in our local – they weren’t. But it turned out he was right. And he (Bobby G that is, not the OH) was getting off at the same stop as me! Fancy that.

I realise that Bobby Gillespie is hardly A list celebrity, but in my world, he is, having been in two of my all time favourite bands and I have described him as my ideal man on several occasions. So it was nice to start the day seeing him in the flesh - he looked ghostly white, knackered and was wearing dubious pointy shoes, but I still would have done it with him there on the concourse if he'd asked.

But I must admit I was surprised to see him on a crowded tube train at 8.30 in the morning. Surely he can afford a cab? According to some tabloid or other (as the OH informed me later) he was out partying with Kate Moss last (Bobby G again, not the OH) and was spotted leaving her place at 5am.

That still leaves quite a few hours unaccounted for though, unless he really struggled to work the ticket machine.

It's Different If You're Famous Pt 2

I am disgusted at the reports that Leslie Ash is to get a £5 million pay out from the NHS because she got MRSA when she was in hospital being treated for broken bones from bedroom gymnastics. The record payout is to compensate for her loss of earnings as an actress.

I admit I’m not going to be the most objective about this since my auntie has suffered from this twice and neither time was she in hospital with something that was self-inflicted like Ms Ash.

But even so there are things about this that annoy me.

Firstly, her acting career was over before she got MRSA after a botched lip implant job left her looking like a trout.

Secondly, and more importantly, people have died with MRSA – are their families getting more than £5m because surely death is worse than a thwarted career?

I'm sure it must be awful for her, its a horrible thing to happen to anyone and its terrible that people no longer feel safe in hospitals, but does she deserve this huge amount? She doesn't need the money but I'm sure other families who've been affected genuinely need financial support, but they don't have the means of getting these results.

I assume that there is some sort of insurance that covers NHS compensation but even so I hate the thought of so much money going to one person when you think what good that could do within a hospital.

Yet again it is a case of the lives of the rich and famous being more important than everyone else.

Of course, I will revise my opinion entirely if it turns out that she donates all the money back to a hospital. That's what I would do.

Its Different If You're Famous

Last night we went to see Spiritulized at Union Chapel. Union Chapel, in case you don't know or can't tell from its name, is a church. They have various concerts there but you can't drink 'within sight of the alter'. Fair enough - we were there to hear some music, not get drunk.

But then in walks Rhys Ifans. 'Is that that Welsh actor who was in the Observer this weekend?' said my friend Jane. I put on my glasses. I'm not that certain but then I notice his blonde fur-coated companion. 'Yes it is' I replied 'because that is Sienna Miller'.

They were seating in a row opposite ours, but one that had been reserved. It wasn't any different from the other pews, but you know you can't have famous people having to get there early to find a seat like everyone else.

Their party was joined by a mother and daughter double-act of screeching harpees who may or may not have been Pearl and Daisy Lowe. Who? You may well ask. A woman with a couple of failed attempts at a music career before she settled on being a rockstar girlfriend, married a drummer from a mediocre indie band (I actually quite like Supergrass but still...) and is now famous for not having a threesome, taking a lot of drugs and making overpriced net curtains. On the back of this, her daughter is now a model.


But then worst of all, Rhys pulls out a bottle of wine and starts swigging it. In a Church. Is God a fan of whatever films it is he's been in?

And for all the fuss these people make about wanting to be left alone, they don't exactly make themselves inconspicuous. Running up and down the aisles, wailing like banshees, insisting that the rules don't apply to you. Hardly blending in, is it?

The support act was Simple Kid, who has a song with the line "Celebrities go home, go home to your mama". I couldn't have put it better myself.

Riding the Silverlink with Dominic West

On the way home yesterday, I foumd myself to be sat opposite the actor Dominic West on the Silverlink train. Now, Dominic West is hardly a household name, but he is one of the stars of my all time favourite programme 'TheWire' (which hasn't received the attention it deserves over here).

I was sat next to his daughter who was reading aloud. I then realised that actually she wasn't just reading, they were going over a script, with her testing him on his lines. It was at this point that I looked up at the man she was with and I thought 'is that him?'. I was never quite certain it was him as I have a very poor record of not recognising/mistaking people, but I did think he was in London doing theatre recently and having looked it up I now know he going to be in Rock n Roll soon, which fits with the script he was reading (he still needs to do a bit of work on it!)

The OH was very annoyed with me for not talking to him. But I really wasn't 100% certain it was him and I never know what to say to 'famous' people. The other thing is that at my work it is a huge faux pas to come over all fan like in the prescence of actors. Tonight is my work Awards ceremony where any such behaviour is pretty much a sacking offence. I wonder if he will be there? If he is, I will have an opening of 'We were on the same train yesterday'.