Won’t someone think of the sardines?!

Spending a week in Lisbon, so I’m eating regular portions of these poor innocent creatures.

This is an absolutely fantastic city, with just the right mix of dusty, crumbling charm and shiny sophistication. Far too many galleries, museums and music venues to see in a week, and several distinct areas within the city, each with its own personality and vibe.

There’s a generally easy-going pace of life, and the place seems to run mostly on beer, which is nice… none of the “oh, we only drink with meals” attitude you get in a lot of southern Europe. You see matronly ladies nursing huge one-litre steins of lager at lunchtime, and plenty of glazed expressions and unsure steps late at night. Must be why British people like coming to Portugal, eh?

Oh, and speaking of booze, here’s the absolute coolest, loveliest thing about Lisbon…

Ginjinha… the local cherry brandy, served in generous portions for 1 euro, from tiny bars with barely room to stand in. The perfect chaser after a brain-tweaking espresso from one of the grand art deco cafes.

Right… my hour of wifi is about to run out. Time to go and explore some more. There are galleries to see, food to eat, Fado to listen to. Proper photos on Flickr when I get back.

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High culture meets low culture

I think the people who rent advertising space for London Underground must have a sense of humour…

Or maybe there’s a link between 17th century Dutch art and Ashlee Simpson, and I’m just not seeing it. Yep, that’ll be it.

Posted in Drivel, Local | 1 Comment

Kick competition out of football!

Sir Alex Ferguson’s position in the Real World has often seemed tenuous in the past, but no more so than several other characters in the rarefied world of top-flight football. His latest outburst, reported in the Observer last week, is particularly daft, though… they’re going to be talking of alcoholism and mental breakdown again!

Setting the scene, Michel Platini, former French midfield hero, was recently elected president of UEFA. His initial plans for the Champions League system were pretty radical, but he’s now aiming merely to transfer one of each country’s allotted places to their domestic cup winners (who would previously have played in the UEFA Cup). Sir Alex doesn’t like the sound of that…

You can win the FA Cup, like Chelsea did last season, playing nobody up until the final. Or the semi-final at least.

Or let’s make that the quarter-final, shall we? Or is he suggesting that both Tottenham and Blackburn are “nobody”? Granted, Chelsea had a relatively easy passage to the FA Cup final last season, while Man Utd played Premiership clubs in every round, but that’s how random draw competitions work. Ah, but don’t forget… along with managers of the other G-14 clubs, Sir Alex doesn’t like the risk of a random draw. That’s why the Champions League was created in the first place… to remove the plucky little hopefuls as early as possible, leaving the moneyspinning later rounds to Europe’s biggest and richest clubs.

Overlooking Ferguson’s breathtaking arrogance, his fears are unfounded, for two reasons.

Firstly, what does it matter if the FA Cup winners gain their Champions League place more easily (supposedly) than the Premiership champions? For eighteen of the last twenty years, the FA Cup has been won by one of those “big four” teams (Man Utd, Chelsea, Arsenal, Liverpool) anyway!

Secondly, do the hopeful little minnows from Europe’s less fashionable leagues *really* pose such a threat to our noble heroes? The days of Liverpool 10 Oulu 1 are long gone, but apart from the occasional Rosenborg 2 Milan 1 the teams who progress to the last eight of the European Cup are generally from England, Italy, Spain and Germany.

For what it’s worth, I’m delighted that Platini has battled through the old boys’ network to become president of UEFA. I’d love to see him do what he really wants to do, which may well be to limit the Champions League to league champions and cup winners, giving equal places to every UEFA country, but he’s going to have a battle on his hands. The big clubs do so hate the idea of competition.

Posted in Football | 2 Comments

In place of actual content…

Just a few things that have been amusing me recently…

1. It’s been mentioned by loads of people already, but Marcus Brigstocke’s non-faith-specific religion rant is worth repeating regularly.

2. Good to see Paul Ford writing on his website Ftrain again. He isn’t as prolific as he used to be, but that just means it’s even better when he returns after a long absence… Ftrain – I Am Making a Difference.

3. Dan Le Sac vs Scroobius Pip “Thou Shalt always Kill”

4. Lincoln City’s comedy start to the season. While some have criticised defensive ineptness and a continued failure to repair tactical inconsistencies since early last year, I still insist this is a deliberate piece of black comic performance art, a satirical commentary on the futility of artistic life in an age of global conflict.

Posted in Drivel | 1 Comment

Last.FA

Are you familiar with Audioscrobbler? It’s a little tool that works with your computer’s media player (iTunes, Winamp, etc) and uploads your listening habits to a central website. That way, you can marvel at the number of times you’ve listened to “Chirpy Chirpy Cheep Cheep”, while also browsing other people’s playlists and finding new things to listen to. I’ve been using it for years, and it’s lots of fun.

Anyway, the people who designed Audioscrobbler expanded their operation a couple of years ago, creating Last.FM, a cuddly Web 2.0 social networking site combining the Audioscrobbler technology with Facebook-style profile pages, messageboards, personalised streaming radio feeds and the potential to run your own little online record label.

Oh, and then music industry giants CBS bought the company.

Yep, another corporate takeover, and this one cost 280 million US dollars, to be precise. And while Flickr, Myspace and Youtube don’t seem to have been affected too badly by their corporate takeovers, I think I’ll be keeping Last.FM at arm’s length. Via Robert Fripp, here’s an extract from the contract you must agree to if you upload any of your music to Last.FM…

By uploading Licensed Material, You grant to Last.FM a non-exclusive, royalty-free license (including the right to sub-license for all purposes related to the Last.FM service (for example, embedding the Last.FM player on third party websites (such as personal blogs).

Now, I’d be naive to think that I was going to get rich by uploading any of my tracks to Last.FM, but that’s not the point. There’s an underground music revolution going on out there… or perhaps not.

Posted in Art/Culture, Music industry, Technology | 7 Comments

Farväl, Ingmar

Ingmar Bergman 1918-2007

“Vem är du?”… “Jag är döden”

Posted in Art/Culture | 5 Comments

And now from our Middle East sports desk…

Iraq 1 – 0 Saudi Arabia (AFC Asian Cup final)

The 1998 World Cup-winning French team was praised as an example of diversity, featuring players from various ethnic and national backgrounds, and hey, look… the victorious Iraq team is made up of Shia and Sunni Muslims and Kurds. Some of us already know that football, despite its looming reputation for related violence, can be a force for good in society. As usual, though, the peace-keeping and “liberating” forces have missed a trick.

I’ll leave it to Bill Shankly to sum up…

Some people believe football is a matter of life and death… I can assure you it is much, much more important than that.
Posted in Football, Politics | Leave a comment

Jacqui Spliff!

Okay, so I’ve been disappointed on many occasions over the past ten years, but I’d been thinking that Jacqui Smith might be, y’know, not quite as bad a Home Secretary as some of the other contenders might be. I mean, she did the whole gravitas thing quite well with the recent Crap Terrorist attacks.

But then she goes and ruins it. Faced with the inevitable revelation that she (like, wow) SMOKED CANNABIS in her younger days, her response was straight out of the very depths of puritanical Teflon Tony spin. According to the BBC, here’s what she said…

“I did break the law… I was wrong… drugs are wrong,” Ms Smith, 44, said. She had smoked it “just a few times”, had “not particularly” enjoyed it and had not taken any other illegal drugs, she told the BBC.

Why not just be honest about it? Is it so important to appease a small number of Mail and Express readers that you feel the need to rewrite your past? Here’s a handy cut-out-and-keep prompt card for government ministers facing this issue in the future…

“Yes, I did smoke cannabis as a student, and enjoyed it immensely. That’s what young people DO. However, I’m now middle-aged, married with children and I’m also a government minister, and if your readers really think I’m exactly the same person now as I was then, they deserve all the consequences of their own stupidity.”
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Tennis to become watersport by 2009

As if the drastic state of British tennis wasn’t bad enough*, the charmingly unflustered protocols of the All England Lawn Tennis Club have come in for some justifiable criticism this week. Like the opening of Parliament or an episode of Miss Marple, Wimbledon has its own slow, deliberate methods, based on an unshakeable certainty that The Way We’ve Always Done Things simply cannot be wrong.

But how wrong they were. Having lost a significant portion of the first week through heavy rain, the club’s only hint of radical thinking was to start the key show-court matches earlier… on Day 6, after several days when clear mornings offered the opportunity to catch up on the growing backlog of matches. Far more damaging, though, is the system for restarting matches after rain breaks. Grass courts require special treatment, so it’s entirely reasonable that the covers go on quickly at the first sign of rain. The problems lie with what happens next.

I was there on the second Monday this year, and several generous patches of dry, sunny weather were completely wasted, because (as I understand it) the AELTC are always waiting for the London Weather Centre to assure them of at least 30 minutes of clear weather. The players are always given fifteen minutes’ notice before the resumption of play and may be given up to five minutes to warm up, which seems perfectly fair, but why aren’t the players given their notice fifteen minutes before the rain ends? Why are there no facilities for them to warm up indoors? If the London Weather Centre can predict the arrival of the next shower to within 30 minutes, why can they not do the same for the end of the current shower?

Oh well, at least they’re installing a retractable roof on Centre Court. In 2009.

*But let’s hear it for Alex Bogdanovic and Melanie South… unseeded British mixed doubles pair, who have already beaten the No.1 seeds and absolutely hammered the No.13 seeds. There is hope!

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Tiger Tim bares his teeth

When Tim Henman spoke frankly about British tennis and how we are far too “accepting of mediocrity”, it was inevitable that the massed clever dicks of the press would swap their knowing nudges and winks. Despite the insinuation, though, Henman is far less a part of the problem than those very journalists who hurry to reduce every uniquely promising sportsperson to a handy, easy-to-denigrate stereotype. There’s always a Bottler, a Loose Cannon, a Lovable Rogue, a Crafty Latino, etc…

Henman, of course, is the One Who Always Loses (Heroically) and as ever, the bitesize media image conveniently ignores the truth. As the best British male player of the last 50 years, he’s eminently qualified to comment. On a subjective level, his creative flair, in the style of Borg or Edberg, has made him an ideal antidote to the more brutal side of modern tennis. And while we might criticise his lapses of concentration and self-confidence, Henman’s work-rate and fitness are beyond reproach.

Speaking of which, fitness seems to be a major problem in Britain’s tennis crisis. At least a couple of the young British women in the first round of this year’s Wimbledon just didn’t look up to the job. David Foster Wallace (a promising junior player in his day) describes the high-pressure daily life at a tennis academy in ‘Infinite Jest’, and I’m guessing the training programmes haven’t changed much since he wrote that book. Not naming names, but if you’re 18 years old, carrying visible surplus around the midriff and looking utterly shattered at the end of the first set, there’s something wrong.

Of course there are other problems. School sports pitches are being sold for development all over the country and it’s difficult to promote a fairly exclusive middle-class sport when the national sport (with working class roots) is all-pervasive. However, I don’t think anyone really expects tennis to compete with football or cricket… making a decent fist of things with the facilities we already have would be a start.

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