Draculito

It must be Halloween, because large numbers of children appear to be dressing up as ghosts, goblins and vampires.

This here is my nephew, he of the slow motion Kung Fu. If you look closely you can see little red bits under his mouth which are supposed to be blood, but are in fact lipstick.

But given he's only 3, he took to the part with gusto, developing a maniacal laugh, a rather impressive swoop across the room and a sudden ability to play Bach organ pieces (okay, I made the last one up). Last time I saw him he was running off to confront the nearest gaggle of strangers on the street, and shout 'Boo !' to them. So if you should see him tonight beware, he may only be little, but he's still got sharp fangs, oh and Spiderman pyjamas too, but we won't mention that as it tends to make him a bit less scary.

Okay, This Really Needs To Stop Now

I don't know about you, but I'm bored to death with the US Presidential election. The thing has been going on since the dawn of time, and I think we're all totally fed up with it. Even the news networks, who exist for these very events, also seem to be tired of it. The story will soon change, to what the President elect is up to, and perhaps, what the rest of the world is doing.

Has it been an interesting campaign, yeah, but not for the right reasons. Instead of the candidates talking about the issues, it has degenerated into a slanging match, as the McCain camp has continually looked for an association of Obama's that will change the election, and Obama's camp have worked hard to defuse each new hand grenade lobbed at them. In amongst all this, do we really have a clear idea of what the two candidates would actually do in the white house ? We know that McCain in a Republican who is not quite like Bush, but what else ? We know that Obama stands for 'change' but do we really understand the details of his plan ? Doubtful, the chance that was presented for an intelligent debate was lost as one campaign fell badly behind and felt the need to resort to desperate tactics to catch up.

What with this and the bitter primary campaigns, the news for the last year has been soaked to the skin with this election. It'll all be over on Wednesday morning, and one of these men will have to slink off into obscurity whilst the other will become the most famous person in the world. As to which that will be, well maybe it's already decided. People can now now vote early in large numbers, and it is estimated that as many as 50% of the votes will already be in before official polling starts on Tuesday morning. But whatever the result we won't know for sure until the day. My prediction ? I think it's going to be a nailbiter, for a number of different reasons.

True Blood

I've got a nasty suspicion that when I die, I will face some form of administrative judgment day. Rather than be told if I'm going to go to Heaven or Hell, I have the feeling that I will be disapprovingly presented with a set of statistics about my life, many of which I will be ashamed of. There will be the number of days I've wasted, the opportunities I've missed and some form of rudimentary score, and I don't think it will be very high. But the thing I'm most worried about is the statistic about how much television I watched. Because it's going to be rather a lot.

But, and it's a big but, I plan to take the clipboard from the celestial bureaucrat, and point to exactly what I spent my time watching, or reading or listening to. I'll then hand it back to him, cross my arms and smile smugly. And one of the shows on the list that I'll be proud of will be 'True Blood'.

New on HBO this season, True Blood is set in a world where vampires live uneasily alongside humans, and the two sides attempt to live with each other. Based on a series of books, and developed by Alan Ball (American Beauty, Six Feet Under) the series is absolutely fascinating. You can forget your tedious medical dramas or police thrillers, for this is something totally original. Not only that it is brilliantly written and performed, and totally compelling. I shan't say more because there are a number of surprises and twists that unfold as we go along. But suffice to say it's the best new show this year, perhaps for many years. There is a certain amount of gore, as you might expect, but if you're going to waste your life watching telly, you might as well waste it watching the best. And then you can shove a certain celestial clipboard up a certain celestial arse.

Star Wars, Disco Time !!!

And now, by popular demand (well, Katie at least), here is the legendary Star Wars Disco song, with accompanying video. Enjoy, and more importantly, dance like idiots !

I've Just Been Dancing To Moonraker....

...and yes I mean the 1979 James Bond film.

There's this track, right at the end called (shockingly) 'end title'. It's a 70's disco mix of the main theme and it's a boogie extravaganza. It's a slow day here in Valencia (you don't say) and thus when it came on I discreetly lowered the shutter and popped some 70's shapes.

Fingers were pointed, shoulders were moved and an inane grin became fixed on my silly face. At one point I even threw in a makeshift twirl, although that turned out to be unwise and I smacked my knee on the chair. But it was so much fun that I put the track back on and went for it again, this time with a more sophisticated set worked out in advance. But it's okay, because I'm pretty sure that I wasn't seen.

Lots of 70's films have these types of soundtracks and it's fun to hear them again after all these years. Roger Moore's Bond movies had more than their fair share of that decadent sequined sound and there's also a disco version of the Star Wars music. Oh and of course who can forget 'Hooked On Classics' ? Okay, I'll stop now. But I want and NEED a glitter ball !

Yeah Baby Yeah !

On the 8th of September 2009, if I make it that far, I will turn 40.

Now if I'm being honest, age has never been something that has worried me unduly. 30 came and went and I didn't really bat an eyelid. My 30's have trickled past and I've scarcely noticed, mainly because I've been working so hard for most of them. But even I have been given pause for thought at the prospect of 40.

After that age I really have to admit that I'm a grown up, and I wonder whether 3 hour Playstation sessions will still be appropriate. But so far I'm doing okay. I still have my hair, which is just as blond as it has ever been. My face is pretty wrinkle-free, and due to my recent exercises I probably have a slightly better physique than I did at 30 (although that's not saying much).

But in this, my 40th year, I have a number of ambitions. One of them is to finally get a book published before I hit the big day. I don't talk about writing much on here, as I feel a little self conscious about it, but outside of this blog I have written two books. To be fair, neither have gotten too close to publication, but I'm pleased with both of them and believe in them enough to carry on banging away with them. I've recently started a third, and if anything, fiction writing is what I actually get the most pleasure from. To get something properly published, would certainly be one of the big ambitions of my life fulfilled, even if no-one bought it. I realise it's probably too late for this now, but I'll keep on trying nonetheless.

On a slightly smaller scale I intend to be fitter at 40 than I've been since I was a kid, and to this end I have stopped drinking alcohol, have stopped eating too much fatty food, and I exercise a lot more. I've talked about this before but having had a major heart scare and being in a country where one's shirt comes off in public on a regular basis are huge incentives for this. But I also realise as I get older that I now have to start putting some effort into my health and I can no longer take it for granted.

And finally (and this is where the silly photo above becomes relevant) I want to round off my cultural education. I have 'War & Peace' and 'In Search of Lost Time' sitting on my bookshelf waiting to be read. But I also have a huge number of movies to get through too. So I've decided to take 5 films from the top 20 of every year I've been alive that I either haven't seen or that I haven't seen since I was a kid, and watch them. So year one is 1969, when people actually dressed in public like they were from the set of an Austin Powers movie. Among the first titles are 'Midnight Cowboy', 'Butch Cassidy' and 'Easy Rider'. I may love or hate some of these films, but I'll note my reactions to them, and report them here if I feel they'll be of interest. And I probably won't finish in time, after all we're talking about watching 200 films here, but I'll see quite a few nonetheless and so the exercise will be worth it.

Just When I Think I'm Out...They Pull Me Back In !

Well I might have known it was too good to be true. When I conducted my last legal case in December of last year, I hoped it would be my last. Although I didn't completely believe it.

For better or worse I've been either training to be or actually being a lawyer since I was 19. If you were to look at my c.v. you'd note that law is the only thing I am actually qualified to do. Now, perhaps unsurprisingly, the only contacts I am making in Valencia are legal ones. I have two meetings coming up, both of which could result in employment and a return to the law.

When I came here I had lofty visions of perhaps being a writer or at the very least teaching English. I've managed to do both in my own small way, but I have found that neither pay enough to live on. And so, it seems that a return to the world of suits, shiny watches and pomposity might be beckoning.

Does this dismay me ? Well, a little, but if I'm honest I kinda knew it would probably lead to this. The law is like the mafia, they only let you leave when you die. I guess I should be grateful that someone still wants to employ me.

I'm Gonna Need Your Help On This One...

As most of you probably know, the new James Bond films opens very shortly. Sadly it doesn't look as if I am going to get to see it before it comes out on DVD, and that'll be about March of next year. And so, I am relying on all of you out there to tell me what it's like.

I've seen a few reviews of it and the consensus appears to be that it's not as good as Casino Royale, but what it lacks in plot it makes up for with action. Daniel Craig is the best thing in it, they all seem to say, and the fight sequences and chases are apparently brilliant. No surprise really as they've employed the stunt team from the 'Bourne' movies. What seems to be shakier is the plot and the script that was apparently incomplete when they started to film, and that's never a good sign. I'm also yet to be convinced that someone like Marc Forster, who has never directed an action film before, was the man to be given the reins of the most successful action franchise in film history.

They've tried this sort of thing before, when Michael Apted was brought in to do 'The World Is Not Enough' and it resulted in a disjointed mess. Martin Campbell on the other hand had previously directed Pierce Brosnan's finest moment as Bond (Goldeneye) and thus it was to be expected that he would produce as good a film as he did with Casino Royale. But then in 'CR' they had one of the very best Bond novels to work from and so the film always had a strong foundation. But with 'QoS' they have invented the plot from scratch and by all accounts it is confusing and hard to follow.

Of course I won't know for sure until next year, and so I'd be grateful for the views of anyone who visits this page and happens to see the new film. My feeling is that it'll be good but a lesser movie than Casino Royale, but I'll wait to see what, if anything, you all have to tell me about it.

Pretty City - Part III - *Updated*

These images are of the opera house in Valencia where I last night watched Wagner's Parsifal. I've written about that experience elsewhere (see bottom of article for the link), but I just wanted to post these two pictures I took of the building afterwards. As you can see it is a spectacular structure, more so at night, and it has provided a modern counterpoint to some of the beautiful classical buildings in the city. In its short 3 year lifespan it has already attracted a lot of attention and will next month play host to the Spanish premiere of the new Bond movie, 'Quantum of Solace'.

Inside it is no less remarkable, comprising two large auditoria both of which hold over 1000 people. Up top there are roof gardens that overlook the city and provide access to both the concert halls and the bars. The people that work there give the place an extra gothic twist by dressing in rather fetching capes and the organisation and professionalism is second to none. If you should ever get the chance to go there, you won't be disappointed. If not you'll have to rely on me going on about it.

My review of the opera itself can be found here.

It's Wagner, Cover Me I'm Going In...

One of my darkest secrets is that I love classical music. I don't talk about it much as it tends to mean that I'm shunned by popular society and regarded as a cravat wearing ponce who spends his evenings sipping expensive wine whilst listening to the wireless. In reality I spend my evenings listening to ear splitting rock music, getting pissed up on cheap wine and sitting at this computer and surfing until my mouse hand hurts. But still.

I have always loved classical music and to my left sits a frankly ridiculous pile of classical CDs that I generally listen to whilst writing. Anyway, Mozart has always been my favourite and I have an immense boxset that contains every note of music that he ever wrote. However there are certain composers that I have avoided, having felt a bit intimidated by their work.

One such fellow is the monumentally arrogant Richard Wagner, whose operas last longer than some Italian governments. I have a set of the Ring Cycle Operas that weigh in at about a week each, but I have never sat down and listened to them properly. But here's the thing, Valencia has a world class opera house and my brother-in-law works there. At present they are doing 'Parsifal', one of old Dickie's greatest hits, and I have secured some free tickets for it. This is no mean feat in itself as they cost more than £100 each, and so I feel justly privileged. But here's the problem, the bastard lasts 6 hours !!!!

No, I haven't typed that wrongly, we are talking 360 minutes of German opera. Worse still I have agreed to review it for the local paper, and thus what with the free-ness and the writing job involved, I'VE GOT TO GO !! Not that I'm dreading it, despite the fact that Wagner had the personality of a colostomy bag and has been latterly associated with the Nazis, his music is actually remarkably beautiful. But 6 bloody hours of it ? I could watch the final Lord of the Rings film TWICE in that time. We go in at 6, and we come back out at midnight. But there's no way out of this, so please cover me, for I am going in...

Networking : A Beginner's Guide

I have never been the most social of animals. When I was a child I defined 'wallflower' and a natural shyness meant I probably missed out on a number of opportunities (girls). As I got older I didn't get a lot better and this meant that during my early days at University I was reluctant to join clubs or talk to the other humans. Odd then that I should choose a career in public speaking, where my words were scrutinised by juries, judges and witnesses for the better part of 15 years. To convince someone of an argument you need to demonstrate a confidence that you believe in it yourself, and that requires a certain skill in self-projection.

Yet outside work I still hated business socialising. I didn't play golf with the boss, I didn't do corporate style bonding crap like paintballing and I didn't ever contribute much to group discussions. I like to keep myself to myself and only speak when I have something to say. But this approach has not really done me any favours. Over the years a number of possibilities (not necessarily girls) have passed me by.

But now things are different, I live in a new country and I need to get to know people. Via this blog I have formed an association with an English speaking newspaper, and today I was invited to, and attended a networking event for English speaking lawyers. I must say I had to push myself to go, as its the kind of thing that I would previously have loathed, but I bit my lip and set off for a restaurant in a part of the city that was alien to me. During the experience I made some mental notes that I would like to pass on to anyone interested:

1. Don't get lost and end up in the red light district.

Cities are odd aren't they, you walk through miles of prosperous neighbourhoods and everything is fine, but one wrong turn down an alley and you can suddenly find yourself in a very dodgy place indeed. My suspicions were first aroused that I'd got lost when the streets suddenly looked deserted and run down. Next clue was a couple of women with skirts so short you could count their pubic hairs. A couple of suits also strayed into the area and the police warned them to depart lest they were robbed. As for me, they didn't say a thing, obviously presuming that I was in my natural habitat. Nice.

2. Don't turn up an hour late, covered in sweat.

This goes back to not getting lost of course, and although I had my trusty printout from Google Maps, it didn't help much and anyway the backstreets aren't on there. As for the sweat, this is hard to avoid in Spain but it's never nice to turn up and look like you've been hosed down just before arriving.

3. Have a card.

There comes a moment when people exchange their business cards. This is nice, but if you can't reciprocate then it feels awkward. I mean to get some done, advertising my dubious English teaching abilities, but the only place I've found is a machine in the corner of a supermarket. And when a corporate lawyer gives you a card made from what looks like vellum, you don't want to give him a bit of cheap cardboard with your name badly printed by a dot matrix printer.

4. Don't let it go quiet.

At any gathering there is always that dread that the conversation will stop and no-one will be able to start it again. That painful pregnant silence is too much to bear, but yet the more it goes on the stronger it takes hold. So this means having a conversation that is banal and pointless, but slightly better than nothing at all. Yes you may find yourself opening a conversation with a gambit like "so, tell me in unnecessary detail about the driest parts of your work" but it's better than nothing, especially if you have a stiff drink nearby.

5. Relax.

Everyone at these gatherings is a bit apprehensive, after all it's a bit like a blind date only with no possibility of sex. But if you relax then others will too. I felt a bit like a specimen in a zoo for the first 20 minutes what with my foreignness and the whole late/sweat thing. But after a while I just thought 'ah sod it' and ordered a beer and relaxed. It went swimmingly after that.

The net result ? Well I now know 4 new people and have met the English owner of a cracking Indian restaurant who has invited me to come back for 'a proper drink'. Can't be bad, and it certainly beat staying indoors watching the telly. And it does make me wonder how my life might have been different if I'd had the inclination to do this sort of thing before. Ah well, never too late to learn something new.

Slow Motion Fighting

On the left, is of course, the grand master of Kung Fu, namely Hong Kong Phooey. I grew up watching his cartoon in the 70's and particularly liked the fact that he got changed in a filing cabinet. That was an era when the martial arts shows 'Kung Fu', 'The Water Margin' and 'Monkey' were all the rage too. This meant that little boys like me would play Kung Fu in the playground, often with highly painful results. But what I did learn from all this was the ancient not Japanese art of slow motion fighting, because all the fights were shown this way, and so that's how we re-created them.

It's a concept that also relates to the 'Six Million Dollar Man' whose super speed was only ever shown in slow motion, thus when we copied him the next day at school, you could see little boys running around the playground in slow motion as far as the eye could see.

Flip forward, er, a few years and I'm now technically an adult. But very luckily I have a three year old nephew who lives just a few apartments along from us. He's only small but is already a man's man. He likes cars, throwing himself on the floor and fighting. Earlier in his life this caused problems as he became rather fond of punching people in the face, really quite hard. This was applied equally to adults and other children, and was a little embarrassing for his parents.

Now, I may be in my late 30's but I have an emotional age of about 12. This means that in a room containing both adults and children, whilst the grown ups are discussing mortgages and how hard life is, I am generally happier getting the kids to show me their new toys. Consequently I've spent a lot of time with my little nephew and have also been the recipient of a smack in the chops. So one day when he wanted to 'play fights' I decided to teach him the ancient not Japanese art of slow motion fighting.

For the uninitiated (i.e. girls) there are two aspects to this. First you must learn to move in slow motion. Not only must your limbs and any punch move forward with stately pace, but you must also slow down any words or noises to the same speed. Naturally when you make contact with the victim, your fist or foot is traveling so slowly that it tickles them more than anything else. Secondly, and this is the fun part, the recipient of the blow must then reel back from the shattering assault also in slow motion, and must fall to the floor or sofa as dramatically as possible, preferably with a few rolls and an occasional grimace of agony thrown in. The true expert, when hit in the jaw, will be able to do that 'Rocky' thing where you move your jaw from side to side and make your face go all wobbly.

As a result of this, my nephew will now only fight in slow motion, and enjoys being hit more than hitting, as it allows him to perform the most cinematic of reactions as he falls to the floor, very slowly of course, clutching his face/chest/leg. It makes him less of a nuisance, and a more pleasant little guy to be with. But he's already learnt which of the adults is closest in mental age to him, and now every time he sees me, he comes running towards me in slow motion with an outstretched fist. Well, he wants to fight with a master, there's nothing wrong with that.

The Way To Work

One of the oddest things about the city of Valencia is that it has a huge river running through its middle. Nothing odd about that you may think, well, in the 1950's there were a series of floods and a number of people were drowned right in the middle of the city. So shocked were the populace that they took the drastic step of getting rid of the river altogether. So, it was diverted upstream and suddenly a huge amount of new real estate was created in the city. Now, in some places this might have been used for offices, or houses or may have even turned into wasteground and a nasty eyesore. Not so in Valencia.

What they have done here is turn huge chunks of it into parks, sports grounds, concert venues and in the most audacious piece of city planning I've seen in many years, the extraordinary 'Science Park' that I wrote about in depth here. But today I was in a normal neighbourhood of the city, where I have a pupil. Her flat is near to a different part of the river which is out of the flashy downtown area, but I was amazed to see that they had applied just as much care to it as the parts further down stream

Above you can see a fully functional athletics stadium, complete with floodlights, stadium seating and a top class track. Below is a large five-a-side football pitch, again with lights and seating. Both of these facilities are next to each other, and both sit on the old river bed of the 'Rio Turia'. I took a quick snap of them as I was wandering back to the underground station, and thought I might share them with you here. I didn't stay staring long because it was about 34 degrees C here today, and you wouldn't catch me running about in that heat, but I was still hugely impressed by the vision and execution of these sports grounds, just casually tossed away in an unflashy part of the city. Nice.

King Of Puddings - *Updated*

Just a quickie today as I'm busy cooking for a dinner party.

I'm doing a lasagne for the main which I've done so many times I think I could do it blindfold, naked and in a darkened cell. And yes there's a rather nice salad too, but that isn't the star of the show, because that my friends, is the 'King of Puddings'. It's effectively a trifle that has been left next to a lemon meringue pie in the laboratory of an evil scientist. The 'evil ray' has been activated and the two have fused to make three layers, meringue, custard and piping hot raspberry jam. The rest of the meal is just a flimsy excuse to make this fabulous dessert, and I've made loads so I can scoff some more tomorrow for breakfast.

What is it about meringue that is just so bloody ruddy delicious ? I dunno but there's a whisk and a bowl of egg whites sitting in my kitchen that are demanding my attention. Must dash, but if I've sufficiently whet anyone's appetite then let me know and I'll give you the recipe.

N.B. I've only just added the photo of the finished article. And it was great.

And now, courtesy of Jamie Oliver, here is the recipe for King/Queen/Close Friend of Puddings;

Ingredients:
4 Eggs
1 pint of milk
115g breadcrumbs
225g sugar

Preheat the oven to 150C/300F. Separate 3 of the eggs. Put the yolks in a bowl with the remaining whole egg and beat together. Add the milk, breadcrumbs and 85g of the sugar and mix. Put the jam on the bottom of a pie dish and spread it in an even layer. Pour the milk and egg mixture over the jam and bake in the preheated oven for an hour or until the mixture is set.

Whisk the remaining 3 egg whites until stiff, then slowly add the remaining sugar until the meringue mixture is thick and glossy. Pile it on top of the custard in the pie dish and return to the oven for 20 minutes until the meringue is set and lightly browned.

Oh Angelina...

Regular readers of this blog may have noticed that I am a dedicated follower of the female form. I regard it as an appreciation of the single greatest piece of design in the entire universe, others may call it lechery. Whatever.

This means that a certain portion of my time is taken up with looking at women. And one of the best places to look at women, is in the movies. Now, let me state right here that Michelle Pfeiffer, is for me, the single most beautiful woman to have ever lived. In films like 'Batman Returns' and 'The Fabulous Baker Boys' she is no less than edible. Before her there was Kathleen Turner, who in the likes of 'Body Heat' and 'The War of The Roses' made a young man feel very contented. But these days I follow the famous four, namely Angelina Jolie, Halle Berry, Salma Hayek and Monica Bellucci. Now, you may be wondering why I've gathered you all here tonight to tell you something that perhaps should be kept to myself ? Well, it relates to movies.

The truth is that I LOVE movies rather more than is clinically advisable. If I could spend the rest of my life suspended by super comfortable wires, in front of a massive cinema screen, with a constant succession of movies being played on it and my bodily functions being taken care of by a sequence of tubes, I would do it. And as people with faces like a slapped arse regularly make it in tinseltown, my hobby means I get to watch lots of beautiful people. Oh and while we're on the subject why is it that every male actor in Hollywood now has a physique like Sylvester Stallone ? You need to work out for 3 hours every day of your life to look like that. No-one else has the time to do that but actors, and so it means that the rest of us don't resemble a side of beef. Anyway, I digress.

The point I'm getting to is that all of the woman I follow also happen to be brilliant actresses, and thus I've seen some great movies with them in. Halle Berry in 'Monster's Ball' is superb, as is Angelina Jolie in 'A Mighty Heart', Salma Hayek in 'Frida' and Monica Bellucci in 'Malena'. And to be fair, if they weren't so good they wouldn't appeal so much. In truth I love all good movies, but if they have a lovely lady in them, it's damn hard for me to resist.

This all brings me to today and 'The Good Shepherd' starring Matt Damon and Angelina Jolie and directed by Robert De Niro. When it came out it didn't fare too well and the critics didn't like it either. So I didn't really bother with it, until now. But today I had a long afternoon alone and needed something to use up three hours and I wanted to see some Angelina. So, on went this movie, and I was pleasantly surprised. 'The Good Shepherd' is a superb movie, even though it is very long and extremely slow. Fans of John Le Carre will appreciate the slow burning, cat and mouse pace, and realise that George Smiley is the template for Matt Damon's spymaster. The plot follows the formation and early actions of the C.I.A.. It also deals extensively with the notorious 'Skull & Bones' club that many Presidents have come from (including the current one, I believe) and shows how this exclusive Ivy League secret society is used to recruit intelligence officers.

The direction is old school but confident. The script is intelligent if rather slow, and the performances from the leads and the likes of William Hurt, Michael Gambon and De Niro himself are all excellent. Ultimately Damon's character sells his soul to the Devil and can't get it back, and the the whole thrust of the piece is that the C.I.A. are effectively beyond all controls. Interesting watching, although best on DVD as you can watch it in pieces if you like. I recommend it to anyone who likes serious films about the world we live in. Oh but I didn't buy the bit about Matt Damon cheating on Angelina Jolie. As if !

Oh For God's Sake...

I don't know, I leave the country for ten minutes and this happens.

For those of you who don't know, this gentleman is Peter Mandelson. He is a British politician, great friends with Tony Blair and someone who has had to resign from the cabinet not once but TWICE due to one scandal or another. He's about as popular in Britain as poke in the eye with a sharpened stick but has become like one of those movie villains that no matter how many times you kill him, always comes back. Remember Jason in all those Friday the 13th films, well Peter Mandelson is like that but worse. Because he's real !

This time it gets better still, not only has he returned to the cabinet but because he isn't even an MP any more they've had to make him a...shudder...Lord of the Realm. And that's what he's up to in this picture, wearing the fancy dress and looking like Basil Rathbone in 'The Adventures of Robin Hood'. Look at that face, it just screams pantomime villain doesn't it ? Surely any moment now he's going to run up to a high tower, start playing Bach organ works and laugh a maniacal laugh that will be heard all over Westminster ?

And I thought that he and Gordon Brown hated each other so why is he back ? Well, I can hazard a guess. For his MANY faults, Peter Mandelson is good at two things, one he is phenomenal at spin (a.k.a. making bad things look like good things by using a mixture of marketing techniques and general slime) and two he is very good at winning elections. Brown is currently regarded as boring and rubbish. So much so that even the Tories are looking like an attractive alternative. Therefore someone has obviously gone to a deserted castle in Transylvania, found a dusty coffin and offered a throbbing jugular vein to the dead fangs of dear old Peter. And good old Mandy has risen from the dead once more, been given an ermine robe and told to make it all better. Well at least I don't live within his sphere of influence any more, best of luck to those of you who do ! Oh and if he should fall by the wayside once more don't get your hopes up. He'll be back again in the lower budgeted and gratuitously gory third sequel. And that's because he can never die.

They've Only Given Me The Vote !!

Interesting letter today, from the Spanish government, addressed to me. At first I thought 'Oh no, they want to charge me tax for something'. Not that I have any money, and my earnings from teaching are still modest, but you never know. Then I saw the word 'Electoral' and breathed a sigh of relief. I tore open the thing and found a painfully complicated form written in formal Spanish, and with things that I need to tick or otherwise.

After a quick peruse, it seems that they are asking me if I want to vote in the European elections. Now, as any European will tell you, the European parliament is incomprehensibly obscure and very boring. As such, no-one I know has ever cast a vote as regards its elections. I don't really know what they do, or why I should care about it. But that doesn't really matter in this situation, because I want to know what it's like to vote in Spain. I haven't voted in England for some years, mainly because the choice has been between 'this idiot, or that fool'. But in Spain I have no idea who anybody is, so voting will probably be a laugh.

Of course the broader picture is more interesting, it's another step towards my integration into Spanish society. I can now converse with strangers, I work, I have a certificate of residence and people don't tend to stare at me in the street so much, although I attribute that to the tan. I'm still blonde and 6 foot 2 and so still look different to 99% of Spanish men, and thus I often get gawped at as if I've escaped from a package holiday. Still. The bottom line is that this is another tiny step towards making Spain my permanent home. In the last 7 months I have often pondered what circumstances would need to arise in order to result in my permanent return to England. Those potential circumstances used to be numerous, they now number maybe 2 or 3. More importantly, the longer I stay here, the less I miss my home country. My Mum is still there and a few mates, but that's what airplanes and holidays were invented for. As for anything else, there's very little that could tempt me back right now.

Back To Work

If you read between the lines of this blog, you may wonder why I never mention working. Well, that's because I haven't done any since last year. At the end of December 2007, I left my life as a lawyer, and in March 2008 I moved to Spain. Due to my health problems back home, I decided to take a few months off, get fit, enjoy the summer and generally put myself back together.

When September came around however, I was starting to get restless. My wife started work and I felt jealous. So I sent out my CV to a number of English schools, and eventually one bit and gave me some work. I have just returned from giving my first lesson, and I think it went quite well. I also enjoyed the sensation of waking up with a sense of purpose, and it gave me a buzz. But what pleased me most about it is that there was a time when I thought that no-one would ever let me be anything else other than a lawyer. I thought I was facing a life sentence of doing the same thing over and over. Certainly, no-one else in England would let me try something new. But here in Spain someone has finally given me the chance that my own country wasn't prepared to. I have been allowed to start a new career.

Early impressions ? Well it felt good. I liked the fact that I was helping someone improve themselves, in order to get a better job and have a better life. And I was just pleased to be of some use. I've never been the type to chase money, or jobs that provide status. When I worked in the law I chose the least well paid branch and probably the most stressful, because I thought it was important. Now, I'm chuffed that I have the chance to be useful again, and that's yet another opportunity that this move has given me. Whether I'm any good as a teacher is another matter, but I won't fail through a lack of effort, and that's the best I can do.

A Few Days In Valencia

I've just divested the camera phone of a few snaps that I thought might be of interest. The first three photos were taken on Sunday morning on one of the beaches. We decided to have breakfast down there and as you can see we were rewarded with great weather.



This was the view from our table, and as you see it was well worth the premium they charged us for the food. When we first got there it was a little windy, but within half an hour we were in shirt sleeves, offering our leathery skin to the sun God above. This restaurant also serves great food for lunch, and is usually packed to the gills, even in winter. One of the nicest days I ever spent at the beach was on a hot day in early September, when I had swum all morning, then ate a large paella at the restaurant with loads of wine and slept it all off back on the beach in the afternoon. That's about as good as it gets in my view.


This was taken after a little walk along the sand dunes that line the beach, and you can see that even in October, this place is beautiful.


Skipping forward to today, this piccie was taken in the main square of the city and shows a Mascleta in full swing. Today is a public holiday in Valencia to celebrate the liberation of the city from the moors 800 years ago, and one of the things they do is this incredible firework/firecracker display. Trouble is, the thing is designed to be heard more than seen, and thus is hard to record. In the middle of that smoke is a cauldron of sequenced bombs, controlled by computer and exploding in a pre-determined pattern. The sound is so loud that even from this distance it reverberated right through my body, and several people walked away, unable to handle the noise. Next time I go to one I'll try and video it.

And that's it, for now. But as I have worked out how to use the phone camera properly, I shall put more photos up as and when.

Not In The Best Of Moods

I've been determined not to post anything today, why, because I've been in a bad mood all day. As mentioned below I had a blow out last night of curry and wine, and this morning I paid for it. A boozy curry night is a bit like sex, in that no matter how pleasurable it all seems at the time, there are always consequences, often quite bad ones.

As I get older I drink less and less, and this morning I remembered why, namely because my body refuses to put up with it these days. It was also rather surprised to have a huge wodge of chicken tikka masala put in it, and began to register its protests to both matters at about 4 this morning. As you sober up, that lingering curry smell isn't quite so attractive, and it's frankly the last thing you want to be confronted with at 8 in the morning.

So, with a stomach that was spinning round like a tumble dryer, and a head that felt like someone had crept into my room during the night and hit me several times in the head with a sharp stick, the day was ruined before it started. I spent much of it slumped in chairs feeling sorry for myself, and shaking my head in disbelief at what a wimp I've become. So I had lots of chocolate milk, scrubbed the kitchen to remove all traces of the meal and watched a movie. In fact I haven't been online all day and was determined not to go near Blogger Dashboard, but what the hell, I thought I'd include you all in my grumpiness. And now I've got that off my chest I'm off to find my last tub of chocolate ice cream.

Ruby Murray

The Spanish are a smashing bunch of chaps. They love their football (nice), they like a beer (nicer still) and they appreciate that the great pleasures of life are to be found in the kitchen and the bedroom (at last, someone else gets it). I live in Spain (really Stu, you've never mentioned it) and I love the place. Today I popped down to pick my nephew up from mini-school (he's 3) and I was able to hang around the playground and shoot the shit with the yummy mummies. In Spanish. This made me feel good, especially as I was too lazy to do my Spanish lesson today and instead contented myself with spending 40 minutes in the butchers trying to make myself understood. In the end, we ALL resort to hand signals, and YOU try miming a hamburger.

But I digress. The food in Spain is lovely, and this, as I have discovered is something of a drawback. Because you see, traditional English food is largely awful. This made for a miserable childhood for me, as repulsive dishes like shepherds pie and casserole were forced down my unwilling throat. My Mum, these days is a very good cook, but when I was growing up she could barely boil an egg. She grew up in the East End of London in the 30's & 40's and was taught that if a vegetable is still identifiable, then you just haven't boiled it for long enough. As for her treatment of meat, a wobbly amount of fat meant it was just right. She's much better now, but back then I stubbornly sat at that table and resolved to starve before I let that crap into my mouth. I did a lot of sitting at the table back then, generally in front of a plate of congealing gravy.

Most British people have had similar experiences, and that is why foreign food is so popular there. Walk down the high street of any town and you will see restaurants catering for Chinese, Italian, Thai and Indian food. The number of steak and kidney puddings on offer, will be nil. I started to eat Chinese food from a young age, and have always loved it slightly more than the air I breathe. And Italian, and Thai and the rest. But when I moved to London in the 90's, I was one night taken to Brick Lane in the East End and to an Indian restaurant. I've never looked back. Indian food is the culinary equivalent of a shuddering orgasm. The flavours are enough to make you change your religion, and once you taste it, you can't get enough. It's like crack cocaine, only with a nice table and an assortment of wines. Everywhere I have ever lived, I have scoped out the local Indian, and become a regular.

One problem, Spain doesn't understand about Indian food. So, how can you possibly live there then, I hear you cry through a mouth of poppadoms ? Well, I have a cunning plan. When I came over here I smuggled several tins of 'Pataks' Indian sauces within my furniture lorry. Some hid in cupboards, others accompanied my pants on the journey (that's underwear not trousers). Basmati rice you can get here, along with coriander (although they call it cilantro), but the Patak sauces are rare and expensive. And tonight, my very fine friends, I cooked a cocking great curry, with nan bread, and the requisite bottle of ice cold white wine. And I'm pleased to say that it has smelt out the entire building, and given me a mouth-gasm that will see me through until at least next weekend. And yeah, I've stuffed nan bread and drunk too much wine, and it feels great. Spain is a wonderful place with great food, beautiful women and weather that never quits (34 C today, that's 90 F, Katie). But they aint perfect. Until you can order in a prawn bhuna, a sag aloo, and a peshwari nan, they won't have quite nailed it. But hey, they just need a little encouragement.

Richard Dawkins And Semen

On the recommendation of a friend, I have been investigating the work of Richard Dawkins. A professor of biology at Oxford University, in the last few years Dawkins has become a well known face on TV due to a series of popular books and TV shows. He is perhaps most famous for his arguments against religious and superstitious beliefs. Essentially he aims to show that reliance on these belief systems is both illogical and potentially dangerous. But he also concedes that people obtain a great deal of comfort from them too.

So, he offers an alternate comfort, that the world and universe around us is so beautiful and complex that it should offer pleasure and wonder on its own, without the need for any supernatural gloss being added. His arguments are persuasive and seductive, and many of the points he makes are so strong as to be virtually unquestionable. But I think there is a slight gap in his reasoning, namely even if we can discount the validity of traditional religions, does that necessarily preclude the existence of some form of intelligence behind the universe, albeit one that we are perhaps still too unsophisticated to understand. I personally think not, although no doubt Dawkins would challenge me to produce evidence, which of course I could not.

Essentially these things come down to a matter of personal choice. One can neither prove nor disprove the existence of God, so why get too fussed about it ? Personally whilst I don't follow any major religion and accept the majority of Dawkins' arguments against them, I am still prepared to be amazed. Anyway, where does the semen come in, you must be wondering ? Something Dawkins said at the end of one of his programmes made me think, namely how unlikely our births are in the first place, and how many other people could have been born in our place.

I looked into the matter a little bit, and discovered that in each ejaculation, up to 600 million sperm can be found. That means that 600 million alternate people could have been born in your or my place. The chances of our sperm getting to that ovum were minute, as were the chances of our 'batch' so to speak actually getting to fertilise an egg. If you think about it like that, all of our lives are a gift, on a par with the most spectacular lottery win in history. Just think, 599,999,999 people never got the chance to live, in your case alone. What would they have been like, what would they have done with the life you ended up with ? When you think of all the people that never got the chance to exist it runs into the trillions and way way beyond.

Personally I find a great comfort in this. It certainly provides a different perspective to your life once you get your head round it, and could it be that we have just a teensy weensey responsibility to all those faceless others who just fell short, to make the best of what we have, regardless of what may or may not happen next ? It's certainly worth thinking about.

Told You She Was A M.I.LF.

Someone seems to agree with my considered political opinion on Sarah Palin. See here for something which is the very definition of wrong.

Shalako

This made me smile when I found it online earlier. Believe it or not, Sean Connery made a cowboy film in the 1970's. Was it any good I hear you wearily moan from the back. No, it wasn't, although yes that is a hot looking Bardot in the movie too. Connery wasn't a good fit as a cowboy, especially, as in virtually every other film he's ever been in, he played it with a Scottish accent.

Remember 'The Hunt For Red October' and 'We shail into history' ? Well this is like that, only with horses. As students though, we loved the idea of a cowboy from Edinburgh so much, that 'Shalako' became a synonym for Connery. 'Who's in the new film at the pictures ?', 'Shalako' someone would ironically reply. Oh how we laughed. Until we stopped.

The Sound You Can Hear Is The Bottom Of The Barrel Being Scraped

The election must be getting close, because the gloves have just come off. Amid reports that Obama is now as much as 9 points ahead in the opinion polls, the Republican party has decided to get nasty. Yesterday Sarah Palin made a glib and calculatedly misleading comment suggesting that Obama has ties to terrorists. Take a look at the news sites if you haven't seen it. What is so unpleasant about it, is that the Republicans know there is nothing in it, but they are hoping that certain people will be swayed if they can get enough mud to stick. So much for talking about the issues, let's just rubbish the other guy, even if what we say isn't actually true.

Today the Republicans put out a campaign ad criticising Obama for comments he made a year ago suggesting that in Afghanistan our air raids are killing civlians. The Republicans call these comments 'dishonourable' even though they were actually supported by an Associated Press report at the time. One thing that strikes me about the conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan is how we are never told about the numbers of civilian dead. We always hear how many of our soldiers have died, but never how many innocent civilians have been killed by our military adventures. This is probably because the number is so huge that it would turn the public against these conflicts and we couldn't have that could we ?

If what Obama said was true (and let's face it it almost certainly was), how is it dishonourable to say it ? Does the truth bring dishonour, or the hiding of that truth ? And also what does this negative campaigning say about the Republicans, is this the last tactic they have left, do they have nothing more to offer. One thing is for sure, we can expect plenty more of this in the next few weeks, probably from both sides. I just hope it doesn't work for either of them. I stayed up to watch the VP debate the other night and on CNN, they had a group of people using electronic equipment to indicate approval or otherwise of what the candidates were saying, and whenever either went negative their approval plummeted. Frankly only a fool would fall for such desperate tactics, and with any luck they will backfire on those that use them.

Kindly Piss Off Back To England !!

Okay, I'm starting to get angry and embarrassed. In case you don't know, there is a large English ex-patriot community in Spain, and I'm talking hundreds of thousands here. They infest places like Marbella and Alicante, and have effectively colonised certain parts of the country. Walk into certain places and it's like a warmer version of the tackiest British seaside resorts. Fish & Chip shops, English pubs and big TV's showing Sky.

What makes me really pissed off is when I see any literature regarding their communities. Most of them don't bother to learn Spanish or integrate into the culture. They bring their small minded little islander attitudes to a place where it's not wanted, and almost try and pretend they aren't abroad at all. I've been reading some of their press with disgust, and I've had enough. One stupid cow actually said of the financial crisis, 'well you know I would get a job here but the problem is you have to speak Spanish'. THAT'S BECAUSE IT'S FUCKING SPAIN !!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm sorry.

I am working my arse off to learn the language, take part in the culture and become a part of the real Spain. I don't want fish and chips, pints of bitter or to watch Eastenders. These are the things I gladly left behind. If you live in a foreign country you have to respect it and its people. One article I just read, that tipped off this rant, was complaining that they didn't like Spanish TV because there was a lot of explicit sex on there. Okay, let's establish this for once and for all shall we ? There is NOTHING wrong, dirty or unpleasant about sex. You and every other person on this planet is here because someone was shagging. Your bodies aren't disgusting, and sex is wonderful. GET OVER IT !!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh and to answer another article, the food is here is fantastic. I actually saw some old sod, who has lived here for 20 years mark you, complain that he's never touched the Spanish food nor will he ever. Oh, and the old fart said that he often got bored as there wasn't enough to do. Well that's probably because you live on a housing estate, surrounded by miserable old cretins like you ! I have never been in a place in my life that is more eventful and interesting than Spain. If you are bored you just aren't trying hard enough. I guess you tell people that there's more to do in England, what with the 9 month winters, the total absence of any community activities and the worship of retail centres and TV ?

Let me just say one more thing here. If you choose to live abroad, then do it properly. Learn the language, take part in the culture, meet the people and stop pretending you're still at home. Don't set up these pathetic ghettos in seaside resorts, instead live among the people who put up with you all year. If England was so great you'd still be there, so shut up. And if you can't do these things, either stop complaining or piss off home. You won't be missed.

This Is The BBC...

Today the National Archive has released the text of the address that would have been read out to the British nation on the radio in the event of a nuclear war. The statement can be found here and makes for chilling reading. I was a schoolboy on the east coast of England during the 70's and 80's. I remember when the Soviet Union invaded Afghanistan in 1979, and how many experts confidently predicted that it would signal the beginning of World War III. In my part of the country at that time was situated an American nuclear missile base, and also a 'top secret' early warning station that could in fact be seen from miles around.

On the top of my school, they decided to install the nuclear sirens, which made the same noise as the 'all clear' sirens used in World War II. We all knew, even as children, that our part of the country would have been a frontline target in the event of nuclear war, and for as long as I live I will never forget hearing those eerie wailing sirens in my little town, when they tested the system. And bear in mind that they had to very clearly announce the fact that it was just a test, because there were some very frightening times back then when we weren't at all sure whether the Soviet Union would launch a surprise attack on us.

So it is curious to read the text that we would have heard on the BBC at the time of such an attack. The language is predictably austere and bald, and you can just imagine it being spoken in the flat formal tones of a BBC newsreader. Interestingly it suggests that after 14 days it may have been safe to go outside again, and that until then people were counselled to stay in their homes. At the time there was a brisk trade in fallout shelters, and many people bought or considered buying them in the same way that Anderson shelters had been used in World War II. But what is obvious from the text, is that either they didn't understand the horrors of a nuclear war and how ineffectual these measures would actually have been, or they realised that no-one would have been around to hear the broadcast. I suspect the latter.

We constantly hear how dangerous the world is right now, but I think it is useful to think back to that time in the early 80's when if you had heard that long droning siren one day, and there was no drill scheduled, it would have meant that you, your family and everything you had ever known would exist for 4 minutes more before being vaporised. That was a dangerous time for the world, and it was all very real, let's never forget it.

The Sauntom of Quolace

If you listen to the Adam and Joe podcast (springing from the BBC Radio 6 show of the same name), you will be aware of the genius that is 'Song Wars'. Every week, the two presenters have a competition to see who can produce the best comedy song, based on a particular subject. One week they did themes for the new Bond movie, trying to work the title 'The Quantum of Solace' into the lyrics. To say that Joe Cornish's song is a thing of silly beauty is an understatement. But now, someone has made a video to go with it, and I just had to share it with you all. If you can get the lyric 'The Quantum of Solace, I don't know what it means...', out of your heads, then you're better men than I.

Queen M.I.L.F.

Now at the risk of appearing vulgar, I thought it about time to talk about Sarah Palin. This is for two reasons, one because she has her debate in the next day or so, and two because it is perfectly possible that she could become the most powerful person on earth. If McCain gets elected, and then something happens to him (he is 72 remember) she will be President. A Vice-President is a spare, in case the original one becomes faulty. And if you think this never happens I'll name three in the last 70 years, Harry S. Trueman took over when FDR died in office, and took the decision to drop the atomic bombs on Japan. Lyndon Johnson took over when JFK was assassinated, and exponentially increased US involvement in Vietnam, the opposite of what Kennedy had proposed. And then there was Gerald Ford, who got the job when Nixon resigned and who...er...oh.

Anyway, Palin is potentially hugely important. It's feasible that she may have to deal with Al Qaeda, the economy and wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. And up to now her executive experience amounts to 2 years as Governor of Alaska. Even there she seems to have been controversial, and there is an investigation under way alleging corruption. But when I hear the press talk about her, far too much is made of her looks. Yes, she's an attractive older woman, and that probably makes her queen of the M.I.L.F.s (look it up if you don't know what that means) but I want a little more from a potential President, don't you ? A lot of middle aged men are currently falling over themselves to have a bit of a drool. But then that's a very dangerous age for men, they end up doing the stupidest of things. Buying bright red sports cars ain't the half of it.

So when she debates Joe Biden, I hope that people just take a long hard look, and imagine her in the oval office. And if they think she'd be great at it, then I'll have to live with it. But if not, I hope to God that they try and bear that in mind in November. McCain only appointed her because Obama didn't pick Hilary Clinton (probably a mistake if we're honest Barack) and he wants to court the voters that are pissed off that Clinton lost. But the only positive thing that I keep hearing about her, is how attractive she is. Yeah, you know what, I know we live in a society that's about as deep as a teaspoon, but that really isn't enough. Knowing about politics and stuff is important too.

And anyway if we're talking doability, I'd go for Hilary every time. Her age and that haughty manner make that one so wrong it's all the way round to right again. Oh, I just typed that out loud didn't I ?

Pretty City - Part II

Following Debby's request for more photos of Valencia, I'm happy to oblige. These are a selection of the photos I have taken of the city in the 6 months I have lived here. They are all clickable and in pretty good resolution. This first one is of the cathedral, which is 1000 years old, and inside is as vast as it it beautiful.

This is a shot of the cathedral at a greater distance and as you can see, it opens out onto a square that is lined with trees, shops and bars.

This building is an apartment/office block that guards one end of the main square of the city. This photo was taken during fiestas, which is why people are walking on the road.

The 55,000 seater football stadium, 'Estadio Mestalla'. Valencia are currently leading the first division, ahead of the likes of Barcelona and Real Madrid. The ground is a cauldron of atmosphere, and this photo was taken from our seats.

The main beach, called 'Malva Rossa', sits at the Eastern end of the city and as you can see is vast. In August it is completely full, so that gives you an idea of the level of tourism here. And if you were to pan the camera to the right, you would see the newly built Formula One circuit.

This is part of a development that I have covered in greater depth here. This building is a huge opera house, which has two 1000 seat auditoria and plays host to some of the best opera stars and musicians in the world.

This was taken from the balcony of my apartment, back in May.

Finally a taste of the exotic greenery we get here.

I hope this lot is of interest, and it only gives a tiny flavour of the city, but hopefully this goes to demonstrate why I am so damn happy here !