Monthly archive

Haven’t you got better things to do?

Too early

I got up extra specially early today so as to be organdised, but obviously I have made a mistake as it is very cold and even animals are looking at me in amazemint as if to say “did your alarm go wrong?”

There is a lovely big crow perched on the lamp post outside my window, trying to warm up in the golden morning light. People do not like crows in general, but that is just because they is black. They are only the same as magpies really which everyone thinks are exciting. If you think about it magpies are just crows with fashion consultants and good PR. They even have their own song!

Free monkey!

Dogg this would basically be the most exciting promotional offer of all time you realise. I saw this in Tescos earlier and I have already been fantasising about what I am going to do with my free monkey. Does anyone know where I can bulk buy some bananas. Romany that is your birthday present sorted!

Tower 42

London’s forgotten skyscraper, Tower 42 (the former NatWest Tower) overtops the nearby Gherkin and every other building in the UK, except the trio of giants at Canary Wharf. It is sort of in the shape of the NatWest logo when seen from above, but unfortunately not being 600 feet tall I cannot confirm this direckly.

Good show, DM!

A sinister distorted reflecktion in a bus I saw. Or is it just normal and it is me that is a warped freak from another dimension. If so text WARPED FREAK to the number on your screens now and you could win an exclusive dinner for two at the Bengal Lancer curry restaurant in Kentish Town (you will not though).

Glimpse of Norman Foster’s amazing massive phallus. Unusually it has a restaurant at the top, which is more than most people can claim.

Circus Place at Finsbury Circus, which is a lovely building or buildings, but I do not know about it. I will have to investergate further and write a small monograph on the subject.

A mysterious and occult chimney sticking out in Circus Place, I presume it must be a venterlation shaft for the Tube which runs underneath between Moorgate and Liverpool Street. If you know that it is the entrance to a secret underground lair eg the Ministry of Magick or Colonel K’s headquarters out of Dangermouse then please write in.

More reflections which I cannot remember where it is exactly. I was crazed with hunger at this point and desperate to find a pie shoppe.

A sneaky peek at the amazing Tower 42 which is coming up next, after these important messages from your local station.

Madness is over-buying bread

I went to the cinema to watch that movie Michael Clayton. It is really good in fact, you did not think I would like it as it does not have anyone shooting guns or going into space, or shooting guns in space, but I confounded your expecktations. It is not a fast-moving action blockbuster, considering it is written by the same bloke that wrote The Bourne Ultimatum there is no spies, sex, brainwashing, or governmint conspiracies and a strickly limited number of explosions and murders (one each).

Still it is an intelligent, sensitive and nuanced character piece with excellent performances, most notably by George Clooney’s face. The story develops slowly (three people walked out before the end of the first reel, tut-tutting with impatience) but builds to its climax via well-written dialogue scenes that never seem to drag. The plot is familiar (evil big company makes dangerous product, covers up evidence) but thankfully it is not one of those thrillers densely jammed with implausible twists and tricks, where if you go to the bathroom for five minutes you miss finding out that the hero was a robot all along.

Clooney is complicated and believable as the troubled New York attorney who stumbles on something darker than the usual corporate venality. Delicious Tilda Swinton gets too little screen time as head lawyer of EvilCorp, driven to take some decidedly extra-legal measures to control a desperate situation. She is probably one of my top favourite actresses named after rice.

So that is my movie review, I give it five bits of popcorn out of five, only there is not any left because I scoffed it all!

Point to the Barbican

The Barbican’s Cromwell Tower reflected in CityPoint. I like the Barbican a lot and would love to live there, it is like a brutalist holiday camp. If you know anyone that has a flat there could you get them to invite me round. I could bring some Twiglets and basic wine.

The distincktive silhouette of Cromwell Tower. The Barbican is an amazing place, a 1960s concrete Corbusian vision of towers in the park, only without the park. The necessary demolition work, as the barbicanliving site sardonically notes, was done by the Luftwaffe in 1940.

I love the blade-like polygonal towers, visible from all over London and the tallest residential buildings in Europe at the time. It is handy if you like classickal concerts as well because there is a special live-in orchestra in the basemint.

Britain’s most inviting café and tapas bar.

How awesome would it be living up there. It is probably a bit inconvenient though when you have to go down 43 floors and back up again just to get a pint of milk. Unless you lowered a basket on a string with some money.

Looking across the City past One Coleman Street to the Gherkin and Tower 42, where we will be going next on this photergraphical mystery tour. Make sure you have got some sandwidges and a refreshing flask of weak lemon drink.

Ahoy-hoy?

Apparently this is what Alexander Graham Bell chose as the appropriate way to answer the newly invented telephone, special inspecktors would listen in and if you did not say it properly, you were arrested. It took a while for rival Edison’s suggested greeting ‘Hello’ to become widespread. In some ways life in olden times was a bit mental.

Today's episode is brought to you by...

It is like a kind of high-tech street magnetick fridge poetry, if that does not sound pretentious, which it should do, because it is.

Numbers station

Well it is a bit like that movie Drowning by Numbers direckted by mentalist Peter Greenaway, I am spotting numbers everywhere. This is based on an idea by k.s. except you will notice I have been a bit more careful and not missed any out, except 9 by mistake.

The "Somebody Else's Problem" Field

Moorhouse, the non-existent building. It would be funny to organise a flash mob of photergraphers to gather outside all at once so the bewildered security guard has to explain 167 separate times exactly why it is company policy not to allow people to take photergraphs of their building.