Half a percent

Thanks to technotom for pointing out that this man could perhaps be the brother of yesterday's sleepwalking airline smoker.

And, passed on from a different source (kixie - thanks), a little article about, including a short chat with, Bill Drummond. Aren't we good to you?

Clive Stafford Smith's a top bloke. Michael Winner's an arse. See their contrasting views on the death penalty here. I mean, having directed Death Wish does actually make you an expert on criminology . . . doesn't it?

The Beeb reckons we'll have heavy snow showers on Friday. The sleet forecast for Saturday will probably get rid of it all, though.

I've spent most of this morning staring at Epson's screen colour-matching software. Now, I'm told that there are fairly severe limits on how much you can do with LCD panels . . . still, nobody can blame me for the purchasing policy, as I wasn't here at the time.

The BBC reports that there's a rumour Bowie's being considered for a part (Nikolai Tesla) in the film version of Chris Priest's "The Prestige".

Finally, I must share with you - well, those of you I haven't already droned on about this to - the Sleeve Pic I Must Have. I saw this in the window of a secondhand shop one evening lots of years ago and thought "I need that on my wall." I've not seen it since at a reasonable price (ie, fuck-all - it's a pitiable record, I'm sure). I speak, of course, of no other album than everyone's least favourite God-bothering poodlerockers STRYPER's album To hell with the devil.

The original, withdrawn sleeve (for being controversial, apparently - I can only imagine that people couldn't decide on a word emphatic enough to describe its breathtaking awfulness) shows the members of the band, depicted as implausibly-muscled angels with eighties-metal big hair, their modesty "tastefully" preserved by wisps of cloud, casting the chained devil into hell. And if you look closely . . . you can see . . . as he falls . . . they have broken his guitar!

Priceless. And yet, simultaneously, worthless.

( Piccy )

Head and Shoulders shampoo now contains a splash of sea minerals, according to the advert. Or is it only me who finds that amusing? Say it several times and see what you think.

OK, OK. IGMC.

( The last few days, including the film that was in the ad break of )

I got a not-quite-spam mail from a company I bought a particularly fine single from a couple of years ago, telling me that they (finally) have an album out in a couple of weeks (and they're playing Edinburgh in November too). And according to u.m.a. there's another Clearlake album on they way too, but not available to plebs like me until next year.

The film version of The Fever, about which I have ranted and raved too often for you to wish to be told again to read it, is apparently playing in London this coming weekend as part of the Raindance Film Festival. The director, one Carlo Nero, has cast his mother as the protagonist, which is quite delightfully sweet. Still, if Vanessa Redgrave was my mother, I'd probably do the same.

I had a mostly calm weekend.

Friday evening became another trip to Portobello beach with a bonfire, burgers, garlic bread, wine, and excellent company as the light faded away. Back soon after midnight this time, though.

Saturday involved shopping and then spending the evening in a couple of pubs - one very salubrious and the other Opium - with a bekilted darthstoo. It suited him, I think, and it was good to see him (the rest of you to take a subtle hint at this point). Stoo's friend Jake and some of his friends were there, and they were very interesting too. Linguistics came up a lot, and therefore Y Goddoddin, apostrophes, and all the usual nonsense. It was also good to see purpledonna and ultravioletman and chat to them, which doesn't happen often enough. We also got approached by a couple of blonde 20ish women at one point, which was flattering if also untempting. They wandered off after a few minutes. I can only assume they were hoping we'd be amusingly desperate.

On Sunday I took the bike frame down to the warren under the station that that bike project use. I was worried for a moment that I'd never find my way out again. On the way back I got mugged by Avalanche for upwards of several pounds, and only left with vidos of Koyaanisqatsi, Powaqqatsi and Westway To The World for my trouble. I watched the first of these on Sunday late afternoon, which I think was the first time I've seen it since the Park Room, and highly excellent it was too. I must try to see Naqoyqatsi at some point. It doesn't seem to have made a big splash on public release.

Tonight I went to see Festival with Lara and Seth. Highly excellent it is, too, but not recommended for people who only like action films. No explosions, and only one car crash. Many laughs, though (often malicious), an acceptable amount of nudity, and nearly everyone ends up unhappy. My kind of film (except that it could have done with more swearing). Go see it. It's about various people - several members of the jury for the comedy award, some comedians, other performers and assorted associated - on the Fringe. And if anyone knows where the comedy awards scene is actually shot, could they please tell us? It's about the only setting we don't walk through regularly.

On the way back we were repeatedly passed on the links - right near one of the scenes in Festival was shot, actually - by a bat. I don't remember the last time I saw one of them in Edinburgh. I probably just haven't been paying attention.

Also, thanks to princealbert for linking to this dodgy flash animation (worksafe apart from some swearing and being flash animation, though) advertising . . . well, a real record that you can actually buy. If you decide against watching it or don't want to be surprised the main site is here.

reddragdiva has asked that word be spread of the Wikipedia article on Space Opera as a source of Scientology's esoteric doctrines. It's well worth a read.