I know, I should be considered to be extremely boring and all that, simply because I have never tried drugs, I have never "even" smoked a joint. I think people who have are stupid, when everyone knows how dangerous it is. I think people who keep referring to smoking marijuana etc. and laughing about it just to show off are idiots. I think people hiding behind "but it was the sixties/seventies/eighties/nineties, everyone did it" are cowards and weak-willed. I think people who try it a few times and then think "this is good, so it cannot hurt me" and eventually become addicted to harder drugs have themselves to blame in this day and age where EVERYONE has been told all the way from school upwards that it is dangerous. I also think people who smoke a joint now and then are morons for saying "it's less dangerous than alcohol"/"alcohol is allowed, so why not this". The logic is missing; because it is LESS dangerous (something which is highly questionable, by the way) you could do it? Well, sitting in an aeroplane is less dangerous than a car, but you're not less dead if the crash occurs.

And this explains why they keep making stories like this hit the headlines. If you had any sense at all, you would already gather this from thinking in logic terms, but no. We need to be told on a regular basis that this and that is dangerous to your health. A few years ago they had made the "remarkable" discovery that roll-your-own cigarettes were worse than the filtered ones. People were genuinely shocked because they had always thought it was the other way around. WHY??? Do you understand the principle of a filter at all?

I'll end this post by sending a belated birthday greeting to Philip Quast (not sure why, as there is no reason whatsoever he should ever read this, but my mind works in mysterious ways) and sending YOU to see one of the geekiest tattoos I have ever seen. Have a wonderful Tuesday!

Labels: current affairs, personal, philip quast, time wasting

It took six years from the film was made until it was finally (very quietly) released. I picked up my copy earlier today and really couldn't understand why it never had a cinema release (especially considering the crap they often put out there. Safe, Here on Earth and Red Planet, anyone?) I thought Alan Rickman was better than ever. Very funny.

If you're interested, you can pick up The Search for John Gissing here. No more need for an automatic eBay notice that one has to renew every year! (I've had mine active for four or five years.)

Labels: Alan Rickman, film

Finally. So, at 16:45 BST on the 22nd of July 2007 I read the final three words of the Harry Potter saga and although I am bursting with comments, I will refrain from making any online, as I thoroughly despise people who give away even the slightest hint to those who have yet to read the book.

I'd better find something else to keep me occupied, then! Doing the dishes, perhaps? Watching the news from yesterday? I have stayed away from anything that resembled human contact for the past 30 hours just in case they would reveal anything about the book. Sad? No, just preempting the strong possibility of morons (of which there are plenty around) ruining six years' anticipation right before the end.

On a completely different note, having seen the trailer and listened to the (brilliant) soundtrack, I think I can safely say I will have to see Hairspray when it's on at the local cinema. It would be worth it, just to see Chris Walken serenading John Travolta (in drag). My, my.

Oh, and I had a highly amusing dream involving Bryn Terfel last night. I must have overdone it by listening to three of his albums in one go the other day.

Labels: dreams, film, literature, music, musicals

...I'm supposed to be right now? The National, Lyttleton. But thanks to the always unreliable London Underground I missed the play. The train, which should have taken 20 minutes to get there, took instead 45 minutes, and by the time I got off at Waterloo I just jumped right onto the train back home. At that point the play had already started and it would have taken me another eight minutes to get there, which is just embarrassingly late.

Then I realised it is Monday the 16th, which is my Friday the 13th. Duh. I knew I shouldn't have laid any plans.

I went back home and picked up my ticket for Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix on Wednesday and then treated myself to a honeydew and a cantaloupe melon. Well deserved, I think, after having wasted £27.50 on a ticket and even £4 on the bloody trip downtown (I didn't even punch out anywhere, so how they can justify charging me £4 for the trip, I don't know. But I guess they'll have to get the £550 million they're over budget from somewhere).

Now I'm really cross. Still, have to stay positive. At least I wasn't going to see any of my favourite actors or anything. Speaking of which, congrats to Dennis Storhøi on his 47th birthday yesterday!

Once again, I just have to mention the newest album of Erasure's. It really is terrific! It's like I have gone back to my teens, when I could listen to the same album over and over. I just can't put this one away! Mad woman.

Labels: dennis storhøi, erasure, music, personal, theatre

I have been looking forward to this for a very long time. Basically since my last holiday, I think, which was in May and lasted too long.

Of course, holidays cannot really last too long, but in my case it's a mix between bad conscience for not being at work and being afraid everything will have changed at the office by the time I come back. Duh.

I have plans. Many plans which will only be half-completed, I know. For instance, I am going to move things about a bit, but that requires me to work over-time with my VHS to DVD Transferral Project(TM), so basically I will not be able to move anything at all. Then, of course, I cannot do anything while I am enjoying the nailbiting last book in the Harry Potter series (the reason for why I'm taking a holiday in the first place)--which also includes being in contact with anyone else, be it physically or via the Internet or other media, just in case they will divulge the end of the book or some very important plot twist. I am also going to the cinema and to the theatre a couple of times, and I am going to do some baking. Yes, you heard me. Well, you read me. Sort of.

In addition to this, I still have a lot of non-fiction books to read through and I have recently bought (too) many plays that I want to read. I am definitely beginning to invest in my future profession, and about time, too! Then, of course, more entertainment is needed; I have been pining for the Playstation 3 for weeks now, so I expect to spend a few hours playing that in the evening, but I will also have to make time for watching four Japanese horror films I bought about a month ago (all this has to happen in the evening when it's dark, you see, otherwise I will not be scared enough). And then, suddenly...the whole holiday is over.

Good thing I'm preparing for the worst.

I got a lot of...well, actually, I have got a lot of things in the post lately. I think I broke my old record last Monday when I received six books, a couple of CD's, nine DVD's and a DVD recorder. They were all on sale, ok? Well, not the recorder, but it was a definite must-have. But I have been receiving books and DVD's for weeks now, and my room is shrinking, I swear! There strangely enough is less room now than before I bought all those things! I wonder why. 14 of the CD's I have received lately came from the US. Imported musical CD's. Lots of great stuff there. My favourite so far is (of course) Spamalot. Oh, how I wish I could have seen Tim Curry and especially Hank Azaria doing that show on Broadway. Alas, it was not to be, so I will have to settle for the recording, which is also very good. My (cliched) favourite being "The Song That Goes Like This".

On the last day of Sweeney Todd I told the lady next to me that I wasn't a Stephen Sondheim fan, but that he was growing on me. Of course, looking at my collection, I have come to realise I actually have quite a few of his musicals already: Bounce, The Frogs, A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum, West Side Story, Company, A Little Night Music, Anyone Can Whistle and very soon Into the Woods, Follies and Sweeney Todd. Hmm...not a fan, you say? Well, it's true. It takes some time getting used to, and I have realised why. Sondheim is more...complex than other musical composers. In effect, it is not quite like the lighter, typical Broadway musical. His often have more musical depth and intricate movements than other musicals and it is, for me, as a complete novice when it comes to musicals, unexpected when one does tend to see musicals as something with a happy-go-lightly base. Still, with a Sondheim collection like mine I assume I will grow to like all of it.

Nevertheless, it feels great to have expanded my musical collection a bit.

Labels: film, gaming, literature, music, musicals, personal

As I am known for not exactly holding my tongue when it comes to US politics, I thought it would be high time for a look at local politcs as well. And then I find that Boris Johnson is considering running as mayoral candidate here in London. For people not very familiar with British politics, it would be almost as electing Bush on the intelligence scale. They also have very similar ways of expressing themselves. Where Bush makes up his own words, Johnson (or "Boris", as he is better known) blurts out any words he can think of and then realises maybe 75% of them weren't very clever. He is constantly seen apologising for some stupid remark.

And to think he is the Shadow Minister for Higher Education. How embarrassing. No wonder this country is going to the dogs.

I think it's about time I took part in politics, but I'm a bit old-fashioned in the sense that I would like to at least be able to VOTE before I start harassing people in the streets with pamphlets and slogans. And in order to vote, I will have to be a British citizen. Fat chance of that happening anytime soon, in other words.

Labels: current affairs

(You will need Shockwave)

Labels: comedy, TV

This is so sad I want to gnaw my own eyes out. I should have slapped Matt Lucas around the head when I saw him the other day.

It's nice to know HBO is behind this, but seriously, if they don't get the original series, then why make an inferior one, that will turn out to be nothing but another americanised port of a typically British success? Let's face it; the American and the British audiences are very, VERY different. Sarcasm is usually lost on an American audience, and sarcasm is the main ingredient in anything British.

Sad, sad, sad.

Labels: comedy, TV

Yes, we went to see Die Hard 4.0 the other day, and after leaving every notion of logic and probability at the door, I enjoyed the film immensely. Very exciting and there were some funny comments. The dialogues between McClane and his unlucky side-kick were good. It is a must-see at the cinema, though, do not just wait for the Blu-Ray release! Unless you own your own cinema (and not just a pitiful home cinema).

I have also booked a ticket for the fifth Harry Potter film at the local cinema next week. So I seem to be trying to keep myself occupied until the release of the seventh book, with work, tidying up, studying, starting my Enormous VHS to DVD Transferral Project(TM), theatre visits and going to the cinema. Unfortunately, sort of, I have already seen a few of those behind the scenes programmes, so I won't be in total awe of the sets, as I have already seen some of them being created. Still, with a three-hour-running time (or something like that), I'm certain I have yet to see most of the film.

And speaking of Jason Isaacs (which I wasn't, really); The Patriot, which has been a favourite for years, was even better in Blu-Ray. Yes, I will stop praising that format soon, I'm sure.

Labels: film, jason isaacs, personal

From Christopher Durang's play The Marriage of Bette and Boo (BETTE is the mother of the adult MATT):

MATT: Why do you call me Skippy? Why don't you call me Matt?
BETTE: Skippy's my favorite movie.
MATT: My favorite movie is Citizen Kane. I don't call you Citizen Kane.

Labels: humour, theatre

Moving on to something new, starting tomorrow, but will have to comment upon tonight's last performance of Sweeney Todd. For once I did not sit next to an elderly man with a nasal problem, but happened to sit behind a very small child who wriggled around in his seat and basically ruined most of the performance for at least three of us, with a couple more being disturbed by him at certain points during the show. I had been much more annoyed if it weren't for the fact that I already knew what was happening, and (most of all) that he managed to keep fairly still during the most important scenes.

Apart from annoying kids (and especially their parents, for bringing them in the first place) the show was as good as it has been these past few days, and this time it was Maria Friedman's turn to forget her lines, which caused a spontaneous applause.

I also feel I have definitely not mentioned Bryn Terfel enough. He was of course the headliner and I must say it was a privilege to have seen him live. I've also come to the conclusion of late that I most certainly prefer baritones and bass-baritones. So now you know.

Oh, and we waited by the stage door. Not sure why. I haven't done that since...well, actually, not more than a few months ago, but that was also by accident. Anyway, we entertained ourselves for a little more than an hour, and when monsieur Quast appeared and signed just about anything you would throw at him (I presume, as I was watching from a few metres away for once) before leaving after about eight minutes, we could finally leave as well. We also spotted Joanna Lumley and Matt Lucas among the audience, by the way.

The evening was rounded off by a quick visit to the local KFC. I haven't eaten there since 1998. I sort of don't eat there on principle, because of some shady dealings when it comes to poultry (on KFC's side, not mine), but what to do when it's past midnight and it's the only place that's still open, eh?

And best not forget today it's two years since the attack on London and there was this tiny concert chain around the world by the name of Live Earth.

Labels: musicals, personal, philip quast

I am initially quoting this blog entry because Philip Quast and the importance of education comes out on top in it, but I must say I also agree with most of the other notes. Now, I like Maria Friedman and would love to blame it on bad sound, but her take on Mrs Lovett in Sweeney Todd is perhaps not the ultimate one. Still, I enjoyed the performance even tonight (although I was once again sat next to an elderly man with a very narrow nasal passage and who kept nodding off constantly; let's hope tomorrow's neighbour is a bit less annoying) and was surprised to see that even the very back of the balcony had a good view. Unfortunately I am short-sighted (mostly physically, sometimes also mentally, but that's another story) and had to bring out the binoculars for the more interesting scenes (which, strangely enough, all happened to feature Judge Turpin, hmm...), but it was not a bad seat and certainly not for that kind of money.

As a side-note, as I was walking down the stairs after the show, some guys around my age were talking about the concert and how little time they had had to prepare for it, when a man sounding middle-aged (they were all walking behind me) said "if I may just cut in, I was here yesterday, and it was much improved today. Yesterday they didn't seem to know where to go, they were all over the place," whereupon I wanted to turn around and say "excuse me for cutting in, but I was here yesterday too and have no idea what you're talking about. They were in the exact same spot as yesterday!" Apart from the fact that Bryn Terfel skipped a line, but Maria Friedman saved him. Good thing the orchestra weren't playing at the time, because that would have fucked it up.

And on that cursing note, I bid you all a good night.

Labels: musicals, philip quast

We will be able to see David Mamet's Glengarry Glen Ross this autumn, which is very good news. I have never seen it on stage, but really liked the film adaptation and like Mamet's work in general.

For your information, yesterday's Sweeney Todd was, fortunately, nothing like my dream. The staging was nicely done, no one faltered and although they did move about in the audience on several occasions, I was nowhere near them and could not have messed it up for the actors even if I wanted to. Well, perhaps if I had stood up and shouted something like "This is the worst fucking version I have ever seen! I hope you all die a painful death!" This, of course, would have led to my immediate forced departure from the auditorium, so I chose not to do so. I have a second chance tonight, though, and a third tomorrow, so there is still time and ample opportunity!

I do, in fact, have two tickets for tomorrow's evening performance, as I noticed yesterday the perfect seat for some serious Philip Quast spotting, as opposed to my rather lame seat at the back of the balcony tonight. Luckily there was still one seat available in this section. Of course, knowing my luck, now that I have mentioned it online, I have probably jinxed it and he will not appear in tomorrow evening's performance. Tut, tut.

Labels: musicals, philip quast, theatre

I had an entertaining, but scary nightmare last night about tonight's Sweeney Todd performance. For some reason my seat was an utterly crap one. Especially since there really was no seat, merely triangles hanging from the ceiling. We were also sitting in the same room as the whole orchestra. There were a couple of sofas available, but I was stupid enough to go for a stroll around the auditorium before sitting down, and when I came back someone had taken my place in the sofa (even though they actually had a seat of their own, somewhere else) and fallen asleep. There were other seats available, but not for me.

I decided not to try and balance my bottom on one of those jiggly triangle thingies, and stood by one of the walls instead. As the performance started, I got the feeling I was sort of in the way, as the actors involved had started moving around in all parts of the auditorium, and looking at me with a mix of surprise and contempt. I tried to move a little towards the corner, but I soon realised there was no way out of there, as I suddenly found myself right in the middle of a Greek tragedy. I sort of stood out.

I was "rescued" by a couple of backstage workers who dragged me into one of the many dressing rooms and left me to my own devices there. Apparently I had been so naughty I was not allowed out of there to watch the rest of the act, so I had to stay in the dressing room together with another naughty member of the audience and a backstage worker who was hired solely to stare at people and who, it turned out, had a fetish about whispering to people.

When the first act was over and it was time for the intermission, I had given up on seeing the rest of the show and wanted to go out for some fresh air (naturally, I was held ransom until the end of the performance, because they did not want anyone to relay to the press what the concert was like...as if I had any grounds upon which to base my review). In the backyard a couple of teenagers were trying to steal a lot of hoovers, and I, being a super-being, after all, tried to stop them. I soon got help from one of the actors (one of those who had been killed off in the first minutes and had nothing else to do than wait for the curtain call) and we jumped fences and climbed towers of pallets to chase them. I think we gave up, because the second act was about to start and we were required to stay in the dressing room.

The second act was slightly more entertaining. The freaky girl with the fetish had gone for the day and we were more free to roam the building complex. I discovered that there was a time loop in one of the rehearsal rooms where you could see any rehearsal over and over again, played out before you in 3D. This was great fun, until I realised it was a two-way time portal and that the people rehearsing could see and hear me as well. I was constantly getting in the way, and since the people in question then didn't get to rehearse uninterruptedly, I could hear them faltering even on stage in real time. One of them was in fact booed off the stage. I frantically tried to get out of the rehearsal room before ruining the career of all of the performers, but there was no door and the actors in there were now starting to look vicious.

Luckily, that was when I woke up. Hopefully tonight's show won't be as eventful, because I'm not sure my heart could handle it.

Labels: dreams, musicals, personal

I am very much hung up on the newest album of Erasure's, Light at the End of the World. I keep making playlists on my mp3 player with other albums on them, but end up repeating this particular album only. It's very catchy and is in the same vein as their albums I Say I Say I Say and Cowboy, I think. Very poppy, very Erasure.

I am also in love with Talkie Walkie by Air. There are a lot of songs on there that are great listening to with your eyes shut, sitting on a noisy train.

Labels: music

I just finished reading Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince for the second time (in two years, mind) and I can hardly contain myself for the next three weeks to see what happens in the end. I have a very, VERY bad feeling I will not like the outcome (let's just say things are not going the way I was hoping they would). But J.K. keeps summoning surprises all the time, so I still have a little faith (I think it is called "naïvety"). So in three weeks' time it'll all be over and I will quite possibly feel like I have wasted the past five and a half years on a story that didn't have the ending I was hoping for, yet at the same time it is so well written I am sure I will read the series a few times more in my lifetime.

I think the big Concert for Diana is underway over at the Wembley Arena; I am at work, so will record it and fast forward through it later in the week. Since we're on the highest possible alert at the moment, the spectators probably had to sustain rigid security checks before being allowed in.

Yesterday's Dame Edna show made me reach for one of my k.d. lang DVD's (fans will nod knowingly (and, possibly, with a smirk) when I say Harvest of Seven Years - Cropped and Chronicled) and what was supposed to be a five-minute-glimpse turned into a viewing of the whole DVD so I didn't go to bed until half past midnight. Of course, I woke up several times during the night worrying about not having any water in the house, but by the time I got up in the morning and went into the bathroom, the water had mysteriously re-appeared overnight and I was able to flush the toilet and have a shower. Which was nice. We even went to the pub yesterday in order to go to the toilet and wash our hands! OK, I'm lying. It was merely an added bonus to our visit, which had been planned as a "last night being able to smoke in the pub" kind of thing, before today's smoking ban took over. And no, I haven't started smoking again all of a sudden, it was my flatmate's "last smoking wish".

Labels: literature, music, personal, TV