If I don’t remember to write anything else before Thursday, Merry Christmas! Or just enjoy whatever you celebrate…
Blame Amazon
I’m going to rant now. The subject of my rant is, in the grand scheme of things, fairly trivial. But I’m annoyed, and I feel like I’m getting flu, so I need to whine about something…
Last year, we ordered a load of Xmas presents from Amazon. I placed the order on 11 December, leaving plenty of leeway because the presents, once unpacked and lovingly (well, amateurishly) giftwrapped, would then be Parcelforced down to a number of family members, who, considerately enough, were spending Christmas in close proximity to each other.
After a week or so, it seemed one particular item was holding up the rest of the order. We cancelled this item, thinking that the whole thing would work like a blocked drain, *whooshing* smoothly through once the blockage was cleared. It didn’t. The rest of the order still didn’t come. We emailed Amazon’s hopeless customer support centre, receiving nothing but cheerfully vague platitudes in return. We *had* to send the stuff off on the 23rd at the latest, so when none of it had arrived on the 22nd, we rushed round Croydon, buying duplicates or near-equivalents, and emailed Amazon, requesting that they cancel the entire order. It was too late to do so, and the stuff finally came on Christmas Eve; we did get a full refund, but the overriding feeling was that we were dealing with a company which simply could not cope with periods of high demand.
So, this year…
Having decided the lifelong Amazon boycott would hurt us a lot more than it’d hurt them, we took the plunge again. Placing the order at roughly the same time (the 13th) we craftily only bought items marked as “usually despatched within 24 hours”. This whole story is, I’m sure, beginning to take on a pallor of inevitability, so let’s cut to the chase…
After around 140 hours (including one Sunday, I’ll grant them that) only three items have arrived out of a total of 15. The bulk of the order was apparently despatched yesterday, but who knows what Parcelforce service they’re using? Have a look at this screenshot…
None of the delivery estimates are correct. The bottom three items arrived on the 17th. The large group at the top hasn’t arrived, despite Amazon’s noble aim to deliver it two days before they actually despatch it!
I almost feel guilty about making such a big thing out of this. It’s just a few bits of consumer tat. No children have been murdered, no countries are descending into bloody chaos, it’s just an inconvenience. However, Amazon are at the forefront of this country’s internet shopping explosion, and despite what you might read in the Sunday supplements, internet shopping in this country is still an unpredictable, limited and occasionally utterly incompetent mess. Back in the autumn I bought a processor upgrade for my G4 Mac from Other World Computing of Woodstock, Illinois. I clicked “submit” on their website on a Wednesday evening, and the item arrived on Friday morning. Are you reading this, Amazon?
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It was me! I found Santa!
And while I’m in something of a photo satire mood, it’s only fair that I should feature the opposition. George, you might want to be gentle to the bearded old fool in the previous picture… after all, he’s probably just guaranteed you another four years of employment. You can ease off on the search for the other bearded guy now… at least until 2007, when you’ll probably need another poll boost.
(Thanks to Mike Espinoza of the alt.fan.frank-zappa newsgroup for his lightning-fingered capture of this little CNN gaffe…)
Posted in Drivel
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Old man found living on farm
Why didn’t they tell us he looked like this? I’ve seen this man almost every day during the last couple of weeks, whenever I’ve walked through our local indoor shopping mall. There’s always a load of kids queuing up to see him… like all good western infidels, they’re probably selling him weapons. So what’s next? He supposedly doesn’t get on with old Osama, so don’t be surprised if the US suddenly decide they like Saddam again.
Oh, and by the way… they find an old bloke hiding in a hole, but they still can’t find any big shiny Weapons of Mass Destruction. Funny, that.
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I guess I’ll be moving out, then…
Dear Mr Blunkett,
I’ve been reading about your plans for new citizenship ceremonies involving singing the national anthem and swearing an oath of allegiance to the Queen and the Union Flag. I assume this is only for new immigrants, and won’t be carried out retrospectively for existing British citizens, but nonetheless I feel I have to come clean and tell you the truth.
The thing is, I feel such a fraud. I’ve been living in Britain for 35 years and have never sworn an oath of allegiance to the Queen. I have absolutely no intention to do so, either. I’m sure she’s a nice old lady, but I don’t go around swearing oaths of allegiance to every nice old lady I meet. They have better things to do with their time, like buying catfood and presenting shiny shillings to grubby-faced urchins. And in the grand parade of old ladies, a particularly rich and powerful one whom I’ve never met, who exists as part of a social system I disagree with, the Queen isn’t someone I’m about to swear allegiance to in a hurry.
Then there’s the matter of this song. To be honest, if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not subject anyone to the horrors of my singing, but if I must, I’d rather pick something I like. I mean, let’s face it, that “God Save the Queen” thing is a heap of crap, isn’t it? I wouldn’t wish death on any old lady (well… hmmmm… ) but I’d rather God would just leave the Queen to take her chance in the old Mortality Lottery, just like the rest of us. And even if I did somehow agree to sing a song supporting a ruthlessly exclusive feudal system, I’d at least want it to be a decent tune, not a simplistic dirge.
All in all, Mr Blunkett, I’m really sorry. I’ve hung around here for so long, wasting your time and giving you the wrong impression. I made the mistake of thinking that being British amounted to more than submitting to aristocratic rule and the symbolism of a piece of patterned fabric. I’d hoped that my love for our countryside and our architecture and my hope that our people could be good to each other and form a progressive society would be enough. I’d better get my coat, hadn’t I?
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Christmas presents for all the family!
In all the rush to get the Zappa tribute done, I completely forgot to mention another cool musical project I’ve been involved with over the past couple of weeks.
Regular readers will know all about the Bill Jehle, we decided to make a Christmas CD. It’s now finished and you can even BUY IT! for the jolly reasonable sum of only $5.58. The perfect musical accompaniment for opening your presents, cooking turkey or just photocopying your arse at the office party.
[Actually, the tune I did, 'Sankta Lucia', isn't a Christmas tune. It's actually a traditional Italian tune ('Santa Lucia') used for the Swedish Luciafest winter festival, which has a lot of the magical, childlike aspects which seem to have disappeared from our mass-produced Asda Xmas Xperience]
Posted in Guitar, Music
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Remembering Frank
21 December 1940 — 4 December 1993
Frank Zappa has probably had more impact on my approach and attitude towards music than anyone else. I tentatively popped a copy of ‘Tinseltown Rebellion’ into my cheesy teenage tape machine at the age of 14 and thought it was wonderful, but never got round to exploring any further at the time (probably lack of money and too many other things I wanted to listen to). Then, at 17, I was suddenly ready. Bought ‘Hot Rats’ and, later, ‘Sheik Yerbouti’, borrowed a couple of other things, and I never looked back. The other day, I realised I probably hadn’t listened to any Zappa for a couple of weeks and promised myself that today I’d listen to nothing else. It’s times like these when I wonder whether I actually *need* any other CDs…
Despite my total Zappa obsession, I’ve never properly played any of his music, apart from practising the odd snippet here and there. I did a style analysis for Guitar Techniques magazine a couple of years ago, but that was all strictly “in the style of”. I figured it was about time I remedied this so here’s a little cover version (I took a couple of liberties with the bass line in places)…
Thanks Frank!
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Tony and George out on the piss
Fish and chips and mushy peas? A fine English tradition, and something I’d recommend (as long as it’s done properly) to anyone. But in a pub? Wrong, wrong, all wrong – get a meat pie down you, man. Scampi and chips (wedge of lemon, curly parsley garnish) for the lady wife, maybe, but not the full fish supper, not from a pub. That has to come from a proper chippy.
Given Tony’s inability to guide his American friend in such important matters of culinary culture, I somehow doubt he challenged George to a game of darts, or suggested getting a double round in just before closing time…
Posted in Drivel, Politics
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The stupid, idle rich
Yesterday’s Independent had a feature entitled ’50 things you never thought you’d know about the Royal Family’. I don’t know whether it was intended to read like a comprehensive justification for instant revolution, or even whether any of it is true, seeing as it was sourced from the Daily Mirror, but I’ve been laughing in amused horror at some of the ‘facts’. Selections follow for your amusement…
Servants of the household are not allowed to walk down the centre of the carpet. That area is only for the royals.
For each tray of food or tea there is a set layout: cup and saucer with handle pointing to five o’clock; plates and saucers turned so the royal crests point to 12 o’clock; salt is always placed on the right, mustard on the left. The pepper goes behind the mustard.
(Of the duties of a royal valet…)There is a strict order on how to lay out the clothes… a folded shirt, as if straight from the box, is then placed at a vertical angle on the trousers…
Prince Charles’s pyjamas are always cotton, and have to be ironed each morning.
Prince Charles has a little key… always attached to his tube of toothpaste and is operated like a sardine tin key, allowing just the right amount of toothpaste out.
The Queen’s personal footman looks after her nine corgis – except feeding, which the Queen does herself. She feeds the animals with a silver spoon and fork each morning.
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Too good for Tony
In the government’s proposed review of the BBC, the huge BBCi website is sure to be one of the main areas for consideration. The main complaint, it seems, is not that BBCi is too big; it’s actually seen as being too *good*. Victor Keegan, writing in the Guardian, hits upon exactly the right tone of indignant disbelief.
The very thought of somehow restricting, financially or otherwise, such a comprehensive and user-friendly information resource is shocking. It’s also patently untrue that the BBC is unique in having a particular advantage in this area – MSN, Vivendi or BSkyB have the money and facilities to compete directly with the Beeb, but choose not to.
BBCi isn’t perfect by a long shot; there’s no way it could investigate any of the thousands of subjects covered in real detail. But as an ‘information portal’ of sorts, it’s unbeatable. Could this be the problem? His cult of personality already irreparably tainted, does Tony Blair feel threatened by the fact that a website (run by the corporation which employed Andrew Gilligan) can be so hugely popular? More popular than his own government, perhaps?
Posted in Art/Culture, Politics, Technology
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