spring awakening, malaysian supper and martini cocktails

I'll come clean, I was late.

My ticket was left in the lobby and the others were already watching when I arrived late for Spring Awakening at the Novello.

The play/musical is set in a 19th Century German school and is an emo teenage self discovery piece, from an original Frank Wedekind script from the 1890s updated with angsty rock music.

I'm guessing Frank didn't have a very good time of it, judging by the storylines of this play which was banned when it was first shown in its original form.

Many of the story arcs describe young hopes dashed upon the rocks of ill fortune with gothic paths of teenage self destruction at every twist.

Its still an interesting piece and has a strong cast who keep the pace through a story which ends gloomily and then gets picked up again in a couple of refrains to re-lift the audience.

Then out into the Aldwych and across to Suka, where we'd booked a 10:30 table for a late supper. Malaysian dishes to accompany stories of Mel's recent visit to Melbourne, Singapore and Hong Kong.

Followed by a short walk to the Purple Room for some frisky Martini cocktails.

I could tell I was back in London.

time to leave this foreign city

03:44 am. I just woke up. The windows are open. Its already getting light. Across to the left there's a slash in the sky where early red sunlight is cutting over the horizon. White and orange bursts against a receding night.

I hear a gull's scree, from the nearby waterside.

Dim light several floors below me bathe communal areas in safety. From the other side of the building there's shouts from revellers, whose voices I have become accustomed to in this foreign town.

In the full morning I will pack. Leave this place. Next time I will be here as a visitor.

can't find my way home

I'm late getting back to the Temporary Apartment, after a business meeting which overran. For the locals the weekend starts now, because of various holidays that can be linked together to make a four day weekend.

I'm heading home tomorrow, mainly because all of the flights were full tonight and I couldn't even get a seat on an early flight in the morning. Everyone must be taking mini-breaks.

Tonight, I've just ordered a pizza from the Italian takeaway and am on my way to buy some milk from the Seven-Eleven because The Nearby Shop That Never Opens is, as usual, closed.

testing flip mino hd upload straight from camera to youtube

A geeky post today.

Seeing whether I can record video whilst on the road and upload it to youtube with a soundtrack using just bent coathangers and old chewing-gum.

And for something more inspired, here's Vermillion Lies rather good video using Barbie and Ken.

and today I was the loathsome traveller

There's a few rituals associated with regular business flying. Getting on and off planes speedily, not blocking the aisles, good baggage management.

The same as regular London commuters know about how to navigate pavements, the Tube and to avoid stopping in inconvenient places. The same sideways look when a Slow Moving Object interferes with the flow.

So I have this thing about phones on planes. The last call made just before the bing-bongs sound or the naff nokia tones at landing to show how many txt msg u hv rcvd bcs u cnt b out of cntct 4 vry lng. These things also get the sideways looks.

But today I must hold my head in shame as I walked all the way onto the plane whilst in a headset conference call, sat down at my seat and continued until I noticed the sideways glance from my co-located passenger. That sideways glance. Oh no. I had turned into one of them.

I shall try not to let it happen again.

more UK election 11 July 2009 rumours started

If the Queen has quietly asked Gordon Brown to dissolve Parliament, then we need to work out the timetable. There's usually at least 30 days from dissolution to an election, which rules out most of June.

July has only been used once since 1918 and August and September have never been used because of the summer holidays and the way it would weird out the results.

So theoretically, the most likely month is October, which has been used the most times since 1918; six times in October, followed by five in May and four in June.

Now, if the level of upset was maximum and pitchforks marched upon Westminster, then a July date is still possible, but would require rather a lot of gearing up in a short time. I'm also wondering if a Speaker is needed during the dissolution process, because even that role seems a trifle fragile at the moment.

Technically, Gordon still has another year, with the last valid date of the current Parliament being 10 May 2010. Because of dissolution procedures, the election wouldn't need to be until Thursday 3 June 2010.

So will we get another year of Gordon and Co, or is there election fever in the wind?

We have the Euro elections and a few by-elections in a few days. I'm guessing Brown, Cameron, Clegg and the others are getting into huddles to think about timings and campaigning. In July, it would need to be 4th (oops - sensitive?), 11th or 18th.

And what if the Monarchy did call for the end of the current Parliament instead of it being Gordon's dice roll?

post eurovision cooldown

Well, like many others, we are cooling down after the excitement of the Eurovision contest yesterday evening during which we spent a couple of hours making mild bets and critiquing this anachronistic European television.

As Brits, we've had plenty of years of Irish-voiced commentary to absorb and although Graham Norton rang the changes, the jibes were similar to his predecessor.

There is no clear criteria for selecting the winning entry. It doesn't seem to be song, musicianship, performance or any of the more obvious reasons and even the political bloc-voting of the 42 counties was somewhat less-predictable. I suppose it is just a question of making sure that bookies' favourite gets sufficient votes to ensure a return.

The Norwegian winners had several of the right ticks. It seems that violins were important and they did this well. I know the lead singer Alex Rybok was originally from Minsk, Belarus, but hey, it's within a days flight of Norway.

The British entry hovered around the fifth position, somewhat upstaged by the surrounding entries which had glowing nuclear reactors on stage in one case and hordes of woodland faerie nymphs in another.

Our singer and Lordly pianist combo was a trifle staid by comparison, with no sudden wardrobe changes although singer Jade did get a violinist's elbow in her eye.
The Germans tried adding Dita von Teese, who is no stranger to wardrobe malfunction but despite their most spectacular use of glitter, were unable to get any half decent score.

I suppose I quite enjoyed the Iceland, Azerbaijan and Turkish entries, more because they typified Europop, although try as I might, the fairyland winner just didn't appear on my shortlist.

And it seems I wasn't alone, judging from the robust twittering occurring during the event, on a separate couple of #channels created just for the purpose.

UK Autumn General Election rumours started

I wonder if the Queen could ask Gordon to call for an Autumn General Election?

Just to tidy up the loose ends around the politicians currently needing more time with their accountants.

And maybe to fill some of those gaps from untimely resignations?

Would it be a populist request, or seen as something from a parliamentary monarchist system?

Whose side would you be on?

Back in 1381, when the peasants were revolting and marched on the Tower of London, you'd need to know.

Take the Tower of London test to find out.

1. What do you usually wear?
a. A steel helmet, heavy duty body armour and stout boots.
b. An exquisite bespoke outfit made by the finest French tailors in silk and velvet.
c. An exquisite bespoke outfit made by the finest Italian tailors in silk and velvet.
d. Rags.

2. And for a special occasion?
A. Full metal jacket, gauntlets, mail collar, steel helmet, weapons, cross of St George.
B. An outrageously stunning creation fresh from the Paris catwalk, damask with ermine accents, shoes with pointed toes so long you trip over them.
C. Purple robes, white alb, red and gold girdle with matching chasuble, Mitre and Crosier.
D. Rags (plus a steel helmet, long bow and a pole arm).

3. A Beard is:
A. Bound to get caught in your armour.
B. This season’s must have fashion accessory, worn forked, with a long moustache.
C. Not as good as the old fashioned clean shaven look (including top of head).
D. A symbol of oppression. How much are these beards costing us? I bet they are all false.

4. Your ideal holiday would be:
A. A booze cruise to Calais, with plenty of action.
B. A summer relaxing on your estate in the Dordogne.
C. A Pilgrimage to Canterbury.
D. Holiday?

5. This new Poll Tax is:
A. Hard on your pay packet, but someone has to pay for the army. Perhaps the rich should pay more.
B. An excellent idea. Everyone should pay the same. You can’t get fairer than that.
C. An excellent idea, but don’t forget to put a little extra in the collection plate on Sunday.
D. An unjust oppression of the poorest in society. Make the rich pay more.

6. The Savoy is:
A. A palace in the West end. Totally indefensible. Civilians should make for the Tower if they value their lives.
B. A charming place just off the Strand where you can get a bite to eat in polite company (once it reopens).
C. A palace named after the Savoy family, one of whom was the Archbishop of Canterbury.
D. A hated symbol of oppression, home of the king’s wicked uncle, John of Gaunt. Burn it down!

7. When dealing with foreign tourists do you...?
A. Speak to them in English, but much more loudly.
B. Speak to them in French, the international language of culture.
C. Speak to them in Latin, the international language of scholarship and religion.
D. String them up. It’s the only language they understand.

8. You are visiting the Royal apartments at the Tower when you hear rioting outside. Do you...?
A. Grab your weapon.
B. Grab your hat. Your outfit needs an accessory.
C. Grab a crucifix.
D. Grab anything you can lay your hands on.

9. You find a splendidly bejewelled cup. Do you...?
A. Guard it.
B. Admire the workmanship.
C. Bless it.
D. Steal it.

10. When introduced to the king’s mother do you...?
A. Salute, and call her ma’am if she speaks to you.
B. Drop your deepest bow or curtsey, kiss her hand if she offers it and wait for her to speak first.
C. Expect her to curtsey to you.
D. Jump up and down on her bed and ask her for a kiss.

11. Finally, when Adam delved and Eve span, who was then the gentleman?
A. Adam, obviously.
B. A true gentleman would naturally recognise good breeding.
C. Ask your parish priest to look it up in his Latin Bible. Clue, it’s near the start.
D. No-one. We were all born equal!

How did you do?
Mostly As: Welcome to the Fortress, soldier! The Tower of London needs bold recruits like you to defend its walls and towers against attackers. Help shoot our siege engines this summer!

Mostly Bs: Obviously destined for a life among the knights and ladies of the Royal Court. You might enjoy a visit to the Medieval Palace at the Tower of London. Or come and cheer your champions at the Tournament this summer.

Mostly Cs. A career in the Medieval church awaits! We do have two Chapels Royal here at the Tower. But beware, churchmen have not always had it easy here. In the White Tower, you can find out more about our first prisoner, the Bishop of Durham.

Mostly Ds: You are one of life’s peasants, and proud of it! While lords and knights have tried to take the Tower and failed, it was the peasants who actually broke into the most secure place in the kingdom. Come and see the Tower of London's new display about the Peasants’ Revolt of 1381.

eurovision results latest twitter with added pino grigio

We've decided to squanch around the telly this evening with more wine than is sensible and watch the Eurovision contest.

As a continued way to fund rashbre central, we have bet the bank on the complete results in the order shown, using the customary combination of statistics, artistic merit, geopolitical block vote and live twittering via #eurovision #twumpet and @ewanspence.

Yeah.

And the Cirque du Soleil are rather fine.

Graham - leave some gaps.

Update: Of course the table was merely the rashbre central computerised predictions. And there was no fiddling the winner.

I saw Oliver Cromwell shake his head outside Parliament today

The statue right outside Parliament is that of Oliver Cromwell who made England into a temporary republic during the Civil Wars of the 1600s.

As Cambridge MP, he joined the Roundhead movement and ran Oliver's army leading to the execution of Charles I and the creation of the Barebones Parliament.

After his death he was buried in Westminster Abbey - which is where the statue looks today. His military exploits were brutal and when the Royalists returned, his corpse was dug up, hung in chains and beheaded.

But the controversial statue stands directly outside Parliament.

350 years ago Parliament had little power, pretty much an advisory body for taxes. Cromwell positioned it for the privileged control it now exercises as a parliamentary monarchy.

Cromwell's point was to end arbitrary dictation from people who considered themselves above the law. What would he make of how things have developed?

Low Anthem from sofa at the Slaughtered Lamb

Attending a gig at the Slaughtered Lamb in Farringdon is a little like being in a big room in someone's house with some favourite musicians playing within arms' reach. We sat on sofas and comfortable chairs to hear The Low Anthem and their excellent support act Ohbijou.

The pub above the venue is wide and spacious, with lively chatter spilling out onto the pavement and then down the stairway at the back is the small door to the performance area where around 100 of us watched the bands perform.

Delightful.

Kicking off with the multi-talented Ohbijou, who played and passed the instruments around almost at will. Canadian, from the other London, a seven piece mini orchestra of sounds, from violins, guitars, mandolins, ukuleles, banjos, synths and pretty much anything else they could lay their hands on. A worthy band in their own right, my only criticism would be that their CDs were not available at the end when I would have just bought one.

A short pause to recharge our glasses (Red Stripe seems to be the indie venue beer, same as at Union Chapel) and then The Low Anthem came to the floor, easing their way into "Cage the Songbird" whilst the sound system adjusted.

I've had their 'Oh My God, Charlie Darwin' album for a couple of months and its frequently on my play list, so it was a treat to hear several numbers from this and also from their older and more dusty cattle herding 'What the Crow Brings'. Mysteriously they referred to their more recent album as the one due to be released in June, but I gather they've got a different distribution deal now. They are, indeed, to hold a launch gig in Union Chapel around June 23rd for the CD which they described as gospel with science.

rashbre phonecam

The Providence, Rhode Island band is a three piece, with talented musicians who each are able to play multiple instruments. The highly animated bassist Jeff Prystowsky can also fire out great drum patterns and pedals a cool pump organ (pub chat suggests this was an eBay purchase?), the lead singer Ben Knox-Miller is a guitarist who has a superb voice and vocal range and the saxophonist Jocie Adams can also NASA blast a mean bass riff and counterpoint the rocky and bluesy numbers with real grit and gusto.

The little gang of us that attended sat in arms length of the band, enjoying every minute. As we left we briefly complemented the band in the bar, before hitting the interweb to ensure we have tix for the CD launch.

Recommended.

And here's something to the Ghosts who write History Books.
p.s. They are at Koko tonight, supporting Ben Kweller.
oh, and were at the London Eye

time to repaint the H on the helipad

I see there's a few more allegations about political mishaps involving inaccurate expense claim submissions.

I can't help wondering whether we've all got this wrong though.

The process seems to be that some modest claims up to around £32,000 can be made within a year for politicians as part of general upkeep. Kit Kats, bath plugs, a few hotel movies, moat plumbing renewal, the odd extra house mortgage or two and redecoration of the half timbered dwellings on the estate all seem to be within the permissible claims.

So why not extend the process to the rest of us?

We pay into the tax system, so a few gentle claims for day to day running couldn't be too much of a problem. There could be a limit like the one the MPs get. Why, I'd even settle for that same amount as long as it was tax free and available annually.

But please don't misunderstand me. Here at rashbre central we've been economising too.

Take the helipad. We added a tennis court to the top surface so that it could be used at other times for relaxation, and even invite the neighbours around for a game of doubles. But the difference between us and some of the MPs is that we've had to pay for this ourselves, instead of being able to claim it at as necessary expense of doing business. I ask you, how else could we get from the rather distant redesignated primary residence back to place of business if we didn't have this essential facility?