I thought that strike thing was a bit daft, but by about midmorning a few people (you know who you are) were being sufficiently ridiculous about breaking it on principle that I decided to join it anyway.

It was a lovely bright day today, if a touch windy. There was a Basque cultural event on the Meadows, with dancers (some of them blokes with really big cowbells tied awkwardly to their backs) but while I was passing there were only a couple of guys playing big xylophones, in a rather interesting style. A couple of monks wandered past as well, in white robes and black cloaks, and a woman in a burqa. All very cosmopolitan.

Phil has for several days been the proud owner of a life-size radio-controlled tarantula. Sadly, the cat isn't too bothered about it, deigning only to be slightly annoyed when people make it run into him.

The Long Blondes were quite fun on Wednesday, although the sound could have been better - down the front, the singer was hardly audible. She had a radio earpiece to monitor from, and I couldn't help wondering if I'd have heard her better from the foldback if there had been more. They seemed otherwise on form, though.

Tomorrow, tickets go on sale to see Portishead in April at the Corn Exchange (which I think actually used to be an abbatoir). As well as Edinburgh, they're playing Manchester, Wolverhampton and some southern hamlet called "London". I'm quite tempted, as I didn't manage to see them in '92 because the Glastonbury stage they were on had impenetrable crowds filling the entire area you could see it from. I'd been in some very big and packed crowds even then, but this one was actually quite worrying (although how I'd rate it after the Elephant I don't know).

I see on the Half Man Half Biscuit site that there's no further information on this new album they've mentioned, but that they are playing in Sheffield, Ulverston and Nottingham soon.

Note also the existance of Irish Half Man Half Biscuit tribute band Half Arsed Half Biscuit.

The BBC covers this story here, quoting the chief scientist of the Food Standards Agency, Dr Andrew Wadge, as saying ""There's a lot of nonsense talked about 'detoxing' and most people seem to forget that we are born with a built-in detox mechanism. It's called the liver. So my advice would be to ditch the detox diets and supplements and buy yourself something nice with the money you've saved."

The Guardian, however, continues the quotation, revealing that he continued "Personally, I would recommend the new Neil Young and Steve Earle albums."

There's also a bizarre and less pleasant article about people being burned by an exploding fondue.

Mark just pointed me at this band called Dragons (the British one, not the Californian one). Musically they're rather nice in a vaguely DM/Interpol/Editors kind of way (which is a kind of way I rather like), but what I really want to point out to you is the cover photo from their album "Here are the roses". Back when records were a foot across, that's the sort of picture that would sell a significant number of copies on its own. I've bought a couple of albums on the basis of having a sleeve that good, and I've not necessarily been disappointed. These days, of course, nobody's going to shell out for a picture the size of a postage stamp. I wonder if they do a poster?

The gig went very well, incidentally. I had a great time, I think other people did too, and it was great to catch up with usually-far-distant friends. Pictures may follow. Possibly.

1. Late Junction on Radio 3 tonight (11:15-1am) has something on Diamanda Galas.

2. The government are looking for buyers for Northern Rock: Steve Bell reports.

3. According to Thee Ackurssed Witchipedia, My Bloody Valentine sold out the Manchester Apollo in 30 minutes, Glasgow Barrowland in 15 minutes and the London Roundhouse in 6 minutes. Not bad for a bunch of feckless lazy slackers who haven't done a hand's turn in fifteen years, eh? Extra dates have been announced.

4. New Model Army were very good last week, although I'm told the Yorkshire gigs were much wilder. Less Chunder & Constipation this time, but more Ghost of Cain and Impurity (no Marrakesh, alas). The support band, Demander, from New York, were good although I'm told they too were better in Yorkshire. And not by anybody who's actually from Yorkshire, either. I'd not been to the Cathouse before. Tiny little place.

5. I've been vaguely been considering photographing all of my old concert tickets. Comically, it took me a while to remember that the new camera is actually capable of taking photos at less than full resolution. I'm also undecided as to whether this would really be worthwhile, given all the concerts I didn't have paper tickets for.

6. I was asked to do the seven-earworms memething a few weeks ago, and I still haven't. Sorry. I will.

7. The first chapter of "Memoirs of a Gnostic Dwarf" is up here. It's a bit odd, and not necessarily worksafe, depending on where you work. Not necessarily brainsafe either, for that matter.

8. Eight, I forget was eight is for.

9. Even on listen-again, you've missed the first of the new series of I'm Sorry I Haven't A Clue. Unless, of course, you haven't.

10. There is no point ten.

11. But there is a point eleven - Paul Raven's Guardian obit finally arrived today - presumably they actually had to write one as they didn't expect him to kick it so soon. It's here.

No more needs be said.

For anyone who hasn't seen it, here on Youtube is five and a half minutes of Tod Ashley talking about the imminent new Firewater album.

. . . is excellent. It's also a lot funnier than you might expect, especially at the beginning, although obviously there's a kick in the face waiting for you at the end.

It was interesting who they got to play John Cooper Clarke. I would have guessed it would be a difficult casting decision, but they found an interesting (if unorthodox) solution.

They'd had time to attach a dedication to Tony Wilson at the beginning. The contrast between 24 Hour Party People and this is interesting. He's a smaller character in this one, of course, and a lot of the time a rather quieter character.

The actors playing the band also played the music for the on-stage scenes - James Pearson (Sumner) was there, and apparently he learned to play guitar from scratch for the part. They sounded damn good, too - if the acting thing doesn't work out for them, they could probably hack it as a JD tribute act. He - and the film - got a round of applause at the end. I may possibly while leaving have overheard a comment from him in praise of Corbijn's general level of talent, which I'd agree with on this evidence.

It's based mainly on Deborah Curtis' book (very good - well worth reading) with extra contributions, in the case of some scenes surely from Annik Honoré, the only living person who was there. It shouldn't have been a surprise to be reminded how young they all were, but it was. Hardly more than children.

Well, look what I found.