Oh dear me after finding time to write I managed to lose everything before saving and decided not to immediately rewrite in disgust with myself and there is no heart for starting to rewrite as there are more important things to do to think and write about.
One reason is that I have spent so much energy earlier yesterday and to day that I need have a break. I watched a dreadful film which as soon it commenced I realised I had seen on TV. This was Jennifer Anniston as the Good girl. Now here is the plot a boring small town housewife with a husband who is a painter decorator finds it difficulty to get out of work clothes because he spends most of the day stoned on pot with his best mate and then watches awful television programmes on a clapped out TV hopping his life will change dramatically for the better when he proves he is a man by his wife giving birth. His wife works in one of those awful small town supermarkets which should make every educated American cringe and seek social asylum anywhere and she is ripe to be allow herself to be seduced by a pretentious young fantasist whose parents consider him to me an embarrassing disappointment although in fairness the film suggests that he is surprising good in bed which the type rarely are.
The film signposts that the husband is going to be tested as infertile just at the time that wife not only is regularly bonking the younger man who is no good as a supermarket assistant but allows herself to be blackmailed by, guess who, of course the husband best friend because he is only is best friend to cast covetous eyes on the Mrs and finding that she is bonking the young man sees his chance to gain the carnal knowledge and of course she is daft enough to get pregnant and hullo, the husband is not as thick as we have been led to believe and works out that she must have been sleeping with someone else.
None of like to move out of our comfort zone for too long so when she has the opportunity to run off with the young after he robs the supermarket leaving the evidence to identify him she funks her opportunity, turns him in so he gets shot dean American style and she is left to stew in her own soup although every indication her husband will bring up the child as his own and turn him into one of those nice young men whom will do is draft and come home in a body bag without understanding why.
I rarely slam something this way but its greatest crime is to set out to be a serious and intense film about USA small town life
Yesterday was bitterly cold and much time was spent after going quickly to Newcastle trying to ensure that I did not catch a cold. It would have been my fault as I went out unprepared, I also made the mistake of going to a long stay car park when the short stay was not only closer to the station entrance but a little cheaper. I found out that the two bookshops within sight of each other are now owned by the same firm with an identical range of books, This worked in my favour because while the first had almost every map except the one I wanted the second had every map.
Earlier I had paid a visit to the home where my mother had been resident for three years to collect a letter that had been sent to her and which made be explode in amazement. However it will have to be left until after my next mini trip as the main item of activity will take up to the last minute to finish.
Yesterday and today the TV has been political. Yesterday I thought the Prime Minister was nearly back to being his own man at Question time and Cameron was off key although what he seemed to be doing si trying to leave the British Public media with the idea that Brown is a loser who cannot cut the mustard. Vince Cable is showing how wrong his party is because he has the Commons feel and ability, an appears a sound man but considered unacceptable because of his age and the belief the country needs another half baked political leader. Tonight was question time where the government spokesperson was put on the rack over the decision of the PM to attend a two hour session with the chairs of Parliamentary committees before going over to Europe to sign the Europe Treaty and because he then flew home staying away from the evening junket leaving it to my local Member of Parliament who happens to the Foreign Secretary. The last political nightcap of thee year did a scrooge with Christmas past present and the future appearing and had Vince Cable dancing with a Come Dancing star. The decision of the show to include personalities with no political background and nothing to say just to. Well I am not sure what. Because this is a programme for the political chattering classes
I also watched an interesting programme of kidology which made much of the ending of debutants in the late 50's because as Princess Margaret was known to say, any tart could get in whose parents had the brass. The object had been to ensure that those of upper class good breeding intermarried with others of the same social class. The girls who also included those from the colonies went a finishing schools, I once accepted an invitation to a social event as a finishing school under the apprehension that it was a home for elderly people, and then a year full of dances and events such as Ascot, Henley perhaps Wimbledon and Polo at Windsor, some hunting and shooting and were expected to remain virgins in the hope of the iond of marriage which would set themselves up for life and where according the rules once you produced to sons, in case the first did not make it for one reason or the other you were free to do your own thing, discretely. Having explained why the event had become redundant, thrown in that out of the past crop of 1400 1500 one had become a communist writer and journalist and one joined the IRA and went to prison, one of four went to university and another had a significant career, two of the last ladies had tea with four of twos crops…. Shush you did not know they existed well it is presented as a different king of event.. The Royals tend to be foreign and minor, the events are branded as good works for charities and the gals, well they want do good work or make money in the city so the evenings are good networking and of course they all go to college and uni, the right uni of course and the right set, is where you expect to make a match if you don't get already invited to the right parties and other social events. Hullo I thought can you explain to the difference.
And Hullo there was this programme which suggested that all the efforts to end social inequality had failed in that surprise surprise children from poor homes went to poor schools failed to make good progress educationally and ended up in poor jobs, irrespective of their ability while children from homes with money, and books, whose parents talked to them etc got them to good schools where they rapidly overtook the children for poor homes, irrespective of their abilities. An hullo there are some educated people who are shocked to find this is so. Hullo don't you know what made Britain great was its class structure, rituals and traditions which was strong enough to embrace the men of wealth, the women who were good in bed and to looked good on the arm. However access was controlled and restricted. The problem is that it was all the open and every one knew their place and how move up or down according to inclination and with the majority content to stay where they were. When you try and ban anything all that happens is that goes underground, becomes secretive and more clever in disguise.
One reason is that I have spent so much energy earlier yesterday and to day that I need have a break. I watched a dreadful film which as soon it commenced I realised I had seen on TV. This was Jennifer Anniston as the Good girl. Now here is the plot a boring small town housewife with a husband who is a painter decorator finds it difficulty to get out of work clothes because he spends most of the day stoned on pot with his best mate and then watches awful television programmes on a clapped out TV hopping his life will change dramatically for the better when he proves he is a man by his wife giving birth. His wife works in one of those awful small town supermarkets which should make every educated American cringe and seek social asylum anywhere and she is ripe to be allow herself to be seduced by a pretentious young fantasist whose parents consider him to me an embarrassing disappointment although in fairness the film suggests that he is surprising good in bed which the type rarely are.
The film signposts that the husband is going to be tested as infertile just at the time that wife not only is regularly bonking the younger man who is no good as a supermarket assistant but allows herself to be blackmailed by, guess who, of course the husband best friend because he is only is best friend to cast covetous eyes on the Mrs and finding that she is bonking the young man sees his chance to gain the carnal knowledge and of course she is daft enough to get pregnant and hullo, the husband is not as thick as we have been led to believe and works out that she must have been sleeping with someone else.
None of like to move out of our comfort zone for too long so when she has the opportunity to run off with the young after he robs the supermarket leaving the evidence to identify him she funks her opportunity, turns him in so he gets shot dean American style and she is left to stew in her own soup although every indication her husband will bring up the child as his own and turn him into one of those nice young men whom will do is draft and come home in a body bag without understanding why.
I rarely slam something this way but its greatest crime is to set out to be a serious and intense film about USA small town life
Yesterday was bitterly cold and much time was spent after going quickly to Newcastle trying to ensure that I did not catch a cold. It would have been my fault as I went out unprepared, I also made the mistake of going to a long stay car park when the short stay was not only closer to the station entrance but a little cheaper. I found out that the two bookshops within sight of each other are now owned by the same firm with an identical range of books, This worked in my favour because while the first had almost every map except the one I wanted the second had every map.
Earlier I had paid a visit to the home where my mother had been resident for three years to collect a letter that had been sent to her and which made be explode in amazement. However it will have to be left until after my next mini trip as the main item of activity will take up to the last minute to finish.
Yesterday and today the TV has been political. Yesterday I thought the Prime Minister was nearly back to being his own man at Question time and Cameron was off key although what he seemed to be doing si trying to leave the British Public media with the idea that Brown is a loser who cannot cut the mustard. Vince Cable is showing how wrong his party is because he has the Commons feel and ability, an appears a sound man but considered unacceptable because of his age and the belief the country needs another half baked political leader. Tonight was question time where the government spokesperson was put on the rack over the decision of the PM to attend a two hour session with the chairs of Parliamentary committees before going over to Europe to sign the Europe Treaty and because he then flew home staying away from the evening junket leaving it to my local Member of Parliament who happens to the Foreign Secretary. The last political nightcap of thee year did a scrooge with Christmas past present and the future appearing and had Vince Cable dancing with a Come Dancing star. The decision of the show to include personalities with no political background and nothing to say just to. Well I am not sure what. Because this is a programme for the political chattering classes
I also watched an interesting programme of kidology which made much of the ending of debutants in the late 50's because as Princess Margaret was known to say, any tart could get in whose parents had the brass. The object had been to ensure that those of upper class good breeding intermarried with others of the same social class. The girls who also included those from the colonies went a finishing schools, I once accepted an invitation to a social event as a finishing school under the apprehension that it was a home for elderly people, and then a year full of dances and events such as Ascot, Henley perhaps Wimbledon and Polo at Windsor, some hunting and shooting and were expected to remain virgins in the hope of the iond of marriage which would set themselves up for life and where according the rules once you produced to sons, in case the first did not make it for one reason or the other you were free to do your own thing, discretely. Having explained why the event had become redundant, thrown in that out of the past crop of 1400 1500 one had become a communist writer and journalist and one joined the IRA and went to prison, one of four went to university and another had a significant career, two of the last ladies had tea with four of twos crops…. Shush you did not know they existed well it is presented as a different king of event.. The Royals tend to be foreign and minor, the events are branded as good works for charities and the gals, well they want do good work or make money in the city so the evenings are good networking and of course they all go to college and uni, the right uni of course and the right set, is where you expect to make a match if you don't get already invited to the right parties and other social events. Hullo I thought can you explain to the difference.
And Hullo there was this programme which suggested that all the efforts to end social inequality had failed in that surprise surprise children from poor homes went to poor schools failed to make good progress educationally and ended up in poor jobs, irrespective of their ability while children from homes with money, and books, whose parents talked to them etc got them to good schools where they rapidly overtook the children for poor homes, irrespective of their abilities. An hullo there are some educated people who are shocked to find this is so. Hullo don't you know what made Britain great was its class structure, rituals and traditions which was strong enough to embrace the men of wealth, the women who were good in bed and to looked good on the arm. However access was controlled and restricted. The problem is that it was all the open and every one knew their place and how move up or down according to inclination and with the majority content to stay where they were. When you try and ban anything all that happens is that goes underground, becomes secretive and more clever in disguise.
No comments:
Post a Comment