Hammer time

Homes Under The Hammer - good grief this is a terrible programme.

It's not Kirsty & Phil style property porn, nor even Sarah Beeny's Property Ladder. It just follows houses bought at auction, and sees what the potential landlords have done.

That isn't my problem with it - it's the terribly obvious music cues.

"It's like stepping back on time" - cue Kylie Minogue "Step Back In Time"

A property has a broken window - cue Nick Lowe "I Love The Sound Of Breaking Glass"

"And when complete, it will be beautiful!" - cue James Blunt "You're Beautiful"

The presenter can smell something - cue XTC "Senses Working Overtime"

Make it stop.

And the people buying the houses are invariably arses.

As nice as Pi

A credit-card sized computer, called the Raspberry Pi, was launched yesterday.

It has no case, no keyboard, no monitor (you plug it into a television) or hard disk (it runs from an SD card.)

One of its aims is to encourage the development of programming skills, the intention being to move school IT from the "how to use a word processor, how to use a spreadsheet..." cul-de-sac it has become and inspire the next generation of programmers.

I remember my first computer, an Acorn Electron. This was the little brother to the BBC micro that was found in many schools. It had a whopping 32k of memory, one channel of sound, eight colours... and BBC BASIC.

I did not write many original programs - the only two I can remember were my GCSE and A-level projects, which were essentially the same, just for different computers! However, I remember spending hours typing listings from Electron User - often repeatedly as my tape recorder never seemed able to record properly.

This sparked my interest in programming, which has resulted in my IT career. I am sure that the Raspberry Pi has the potential to do this many times over.

Tesco being run by Tubbs and Edward...?

It's only for local people!

England Expects (Too Much)

So the England football team circus claimed another manager, this time over the allocation of a bit of elastic to give one player the responsibility of calling heads or tails.

I cannot remember the England captaincy ever being such a ridiculous issue. Yes, Bobby Moore is forever associated with being held aloft with the Jules Rimet trophy. The only other iconic image that comes to mind is that of Terry Butcher, wild-eyed, bandaged and bloody.

But should a nation that has won nothing since - the World Cup test event, Le Tournoi in 1997 does not count - be hung up about the thing that matters least?

The two images of Moore and Butcher encapsulate the problem.

Moore reflects the pinnacle of achievement, now so long ago that number of people still alive who witnessed it will soon be smaller than those who did not. The win in 1966 is passing into folklore, but is still referenced before each tournament. Moore is idealised as England have won nothing since. "Three Lions" had thirty years of hurt, and that is now sixteen years ago.

In the time since 1966, there have been a handful of occasions when England have gotten anywhere near winning. Two semi final appearances - only six years apart - and a further handful of quarter final appearances are pathetic. England are forever lurking in the top ten FIFA rankings, but have never been the top ranked European team.

This does not stop the expectation being piled up, fuelled by jingoistic media. The Mirror's front page before the semifinal with Germany in 1996 was a notable low. Paul Gascoigne and Stuart Pearce with photoshopped helmets, "ACHTUNG! SURRENDER For you Fritz, ze Euro 96 Championship is over"... (It wasn't by the way. Piers Morgan was editor. Whatever happened to him?)

The gap between expectation and realism has been widened by FIFA and UEFA expanding the tournaments. Currently twice as many teams qualify for each tournament than in the 1970s, when England failed in every qualifying campaign, clownish Polish goalkeepers and all. The view has become that once the minor challenge of qualifying is finished (unless an out-of-his-depth manager is in charge: Taylor, McClaren) then winning the tournament itself is a formality.

Butcher sums up the adage of putting your body on the line, equating sport with war. This is more commonly described as showing 'passion'. It's all well and good having passion, but it might be a better idea - as every other country has realised - to be able to play the game, retain the ball and pass it between each other.

Passion seems to be the reason why Harry Redknapp is being aggressively courted by the press - although not presently the FA. Harry stalks the touchline. Harry rolls his eyes and throws up his arms when a chance is missed. Harry compares his players with his wife. The fact that Harry never knowingly passes up an opportunity to give his opinion also helps. (I haven't seen today's papers, but I'd be amazed if the sports sections can be opened - gallons more Harry-love is probably spread over them after Spurs' thrashing of a hapless Newcastle.)

Redknapp is no tactical genius, and the last time the press got their way, the similarly tactically naive Kevin Keegan was appointed. (Although I cannot see Harry resigning in a toilet in the depths of Wembley Stadium.)

If Harry does get appointed, whether just for Euro 2012 or longer term, I already have the headline for the inevitable, self-inflicted England failure:

HARRY-KARI

Hot off the press

Dear David,

I regret that I must offer my resignation as England team manager with immediate effect.

Thanks to the efforts of John Terry, we are now in a mutually beneficial situation.

It has been obvious to me that the team will perform badly at Euro 2012, possibly even worse than at the World Cup in 2010.

By pretending to be affronted and resigning, you have a fall guy to blame for another tepid failure. I can leave with what is left of my reputation intact.

So long and thanks for all the cash!

Ciao,
Fabio

How PR works : Budget airline edition

At work, we get a feed of business news on our intranet site - usually cobbled together from press releases and corporate announcements. It's not very informative.

I recently noticed that Ryanair always announce new bases in exactly the same way. Even their communications department runs with ruthless efficiency.

Earlier this week, they announced Paphos in Cyprus as a new base. I've stripped out the details and left what looks like their current template:

Ryanair is delighted to announce (airport) as our (number 1) base with (number 2) routes beginning in (date) which go on sale on www.ryanair.com tomorrow. (Nation) consumers and visitors can now beat the recession and escape (rival airline) high fares by switching to Ryanair's lowest fares and our no fuel surcharge guarantee to (number 3) exciting destinations all over Europe including (country 1), (country 2) and (country 3) among others. Ryanair's (number 4) passengers p.a. will sustain up to (number 5) jobs in (destination).

I may have now rendered a Ryanair employee redundant. Sorry.

Brits Thoughts

The Brits nominations were announced yesterday. I'm amazed at how many of the nominees I have heard of, and then have heard something by them.

British male solo artist
Ed Sheeran
James Blake
James Morrison
Noel Gallagher's High Flying Birds
Professor Green

Where has Ed Sheeran come from? What do his songs sound like? Guitar playing folk rapper does not sound overly appealing.

Professor (of what?) Green... I've bypassed his videos when channel surfing. Seemed to be tattoos, looking surly and/or confused, and Westwood poses.

The two Jameses... nope.

Noel Gallagher does give a good interview, and "AKA What A Life" is pretty good. I still think he peaked in 1994, "Definitely Maybe" and Neil Innes' "Whatever" remaining the best he's done.

Around that time he mentioned listening to Portishead and a few other interesting (i.e. not rock) artists. I can only assume Liam dictated what was played on the tour bus as, other than the Chemical Brothers tracks and a Beck remix, Oasis never strayed far from their comfort zone. Like Status Quo after they dumped psychedelia.

British female solo artist
Adele
Florence + the Machine
Jessie J
Kate Bush
Laura Marling

As much as I'd like Laura Marling to win, and cannot fathom how PJ Harvey can be nominated for best album and not here, this is probably Adele's.

Hilary Devey from Dragon's Den did well to get nominated here too.

British breakthrough act
Anna Calvi
Ed Sheeran
Emeli Sandé
Jessie J
The Vaccines

This is voted for by Radio 1 listeners. What is a typical Radio 1 listener?

Anna Calvi would be a decent winner.

The Vaccines are not my cup of tea. And they're posh! Cameron is probably a fan - possibly related! To the barricades, brothers! (And sisters!)

Siobhan Fahey's mum Hilary nominated here too.

British group
Arctic Monkeys
Chase & Status
Coldplay
Elbow
Kasabian

This is voted for by Radio 2 listeners, so it's probably Coldplay or Elbow. I cannot stand Kasabian. "Brick By Brick" disqualifies Arctic Monkeys.

British single
Adele - Someone Like You
Ed Sheeran - The A Team
Example - Changed The Way You Kissed Me
Jessie J Ft B.o.B. - Price Tag
JLS ft Dev - She Makes Me Wanna
Military Wives/Gareth Malone - Wherever You Are
Olly Murs ft Rizzle Kicks - Heart Skips A Beat
One Direction - What Makes You Beautiful
Pixie Lott - All About Tonight
The Wanted - Glad You Came

This is voted for by Capital listeners. Now not just London, but a chain of stations across the UK. But why are they all called Capital if they're not in London? (Cardiff, Edinburgh or Belfast, maybe...)

Oh, I don't know... of these, I've only heard Adele.

And another nomination for Hilary.

Mastercard British album of the year
Adele - 21
Coldplay - Mylo Xyloto
Ed Sheeran - +
Florence + the Machine - Ceremonials
PJ Harvey - Let England Shake

Adele sold squillions, so it's bound to be her award. PJ Harvey would be nice, but it won't happen. Q reckoned Shouty Florence was the best album of last year.

Yes, they did.

International male solo artist
Aloe Blacc
Bon Iver
Bruno Mars
David Guetta
Ryan Adams

Ugh. Dodgy dance, rubbish R&B, insufferable indie. If nobody has given Aloe Blacc a dollar yet, perhaps he'll win out of sympathy.

International female solo artist
Beyoncé
Björk
Feist
Lady Gaga
Rihanna

Give it to Feist! She's Canadian! Canadians are universally loved! (Except their Prime Minister.)

International group
Fleet Foxes
Foo Fighters
Jay-Z/Kanye West
Lady Antebellum
Maroon 5

A double act now counts as a group then? If Misters Z and West can't be bothered to think up a new name, it isn't a group.

International breakthrough act
Aloe Blacc
Bon Iver
Foster The People
Lana Del Rey
Nicki Minaj

Really struggling now. Lana Del Rey on the back of one single? Really?

Musical Youth : Spies Like Us

Paul McCartney - Spies Like Us



1986 could charitably be described as being in one of Macca's less-renowned periods.

The Frog Chorus, "We All Stand Together", "Give My Regards to Broad Street", Michael Jackson buying the rights to all The Beatles songs...

Dan Aykroyd and Chevy Chase, on the other hand, were doing quite well for themselves. Both had successfully graduated from Saturday Night Live to the movies. Aykroyd's "Ghostbusters" had been one of the biggest films of the previous year.

"Spies Like Us" starred Aykroyd and Chase as would-be spies who are duped into actually becoming spies and sent off to Russia for some nuclear brinkmanship. Hilarious! It's not the greatest film in the world, although I did drag my dad along to see it.

(I recently saw a few minutes of it on TV - it wasn't a funny bit.)

For some reason, Paul McCartney provided the title song. It's nothing remarkable, the wig-out at the end is quite lively.

The video features Aykroyd and Chase larking around in Abbey Road studios, interspersed with clips from the film. Chase would soon appear in the video for Paul Simon's "You Can Call Me Al", performing similar gurning duties.

All in all, unremarkable. The main thing I remember is Macca turning up on "Record Breakers" around the time of the release of the film and single. In full "spy" disguise - trench coat, moustache, sunglasses, hat - he supposedly set a record for slurping a cup of tea. Fab Macca Wacky Thumbs Aloft! (They may have actually mentioned something about The Beatles and number one records.)

Unlike his Bond theme, "Spies Like Us' doesn't get played live. Well, he didn't play it either of the two times that I've seen him. And if he did, I doubt he'd bother with the fireworks that accompany "Live and Let Die".

But you might get Chevy Chase turning up.

Musical Youth : One Step Further

Bardo - One Step Further



This was Britain's Eurovision Song Contest entry for 1982 - the year after Bucks Fizz, who had won with "Making Your Mind Up", probably helped by the girls' skirts being whipped off during the performance.

I don't think I'd heard this in over 25 years. Before jogging my memory with You Tube, only three things came to mind.

First, the picture on the sleeve was in very soft focus.

Second, the song comes to a juddering halt with them singing "One step ... one step!".

Finally, the chorus of Tight Fit's "Fantasy Island" (also from 1982) wah-ooh wa-oohs and all.

"One Step Further" sounds nothing like it.

It's not terrible. In fact, having listened to it several times while writing this entry, I can see why I liked it.

It's much better than Jemini and the other dross that the UK have forlornly sent to the continent. It reached number 2 in the charts.

The only disturbing thing is the lyrics.

It's the story of a shy, hopeless, lovelorn, tongue-tied stalker - with hints at underlying S&M tendencies...

I could have taken one step further and I would have been there
You could have turned around and hit me and I wouldn't have cared
All this time I didn't get anywhere

I was five at the time. How was I to know?

Troika in town

The Troika are visiting Dublin today, checking the progress of the Irish government in taking the country back to pre-Celtic Tiger days.

How apt that a Russian word, echoing communism, should be used to describe the three-headed hydra of the EU, ECB and IMF. The solution to sovereign debt crises engulfing the eurozone is to offer a loan to pay off debts and socialise the repayments.

When did multinational agencies start behaving like the dodgy companies who advertise on the channels higher up the electronic programme guide?

Consolidate all your existing loans into one easily digestible austerity package!

The only difference between the Troika and these companies is the interest rate. Although 5% on €85bn is a bit more money-wise than 1759% on €500.

Misery delivered for free

There were many more people on the DART this morning, with the schools back today. Those of us not tapping away on smartphones, trying to have a little sleep, gazing out of the window in utter boredom or listening to music at high volume with a gormless expression, were reading the free newspaper, Metro Herald.

(NB: If you're more familiar with just 'Metro', then Dublin got carried away with itself. Metro was launched here a few years ago, and the local Evening Herald decided it wanted a piece of the action too. It was not sustainable for either paper, chasing small markets of advertisers and audience - and Dublin was drowning in discarded newsprint. A 'merger' took place - the 'Herald' suffix is all that remains of the second paper. This is not the worst that could happen - the Evening Herald's design is awful. Remember when you first got DTP software and used as many fonts as you could? The Herald is lile that.)

The Metro Herald is effectively the Daily Mail, but for free. It ought to be categorised as a class A drug :

1. It is pushed openly on the streets by a gang of dealers

"Good morning Metro Herald!"
It's inviting, isn't it? You'd think that bright yellow raincoats would attract the attention.

2. The contents have dangerous effects on the mind

The relentless stream of headlines about house prices, crime, jobs, health ... everyone is either gaming the system against you, or a victim of the system - and it could easily be you!

3. The dealers have no qualms pushing their product onto children

Children's brains are remarkably pliant. Learning foreign languages comes more easily to them than adults, as their neural paths are not yet hard-wired. They willingly accept and embrace differences between themselves and others. The Metro has an insidious effect on their political and social outlook.

4. It feeds a chronic spiral of decline

See 2. Exposure to these headlines darkens the mood. Further exposure (usually the next day) makes things gloomier.

5. It leads to harder drugs

You will end up reading the Daily Mail. Extreme cases may result in reading the Daily Express. Or in Dublin, the Irish Independent.

Happy reading!

Musical Youth : Snooker Loopy

Chas & Dave - Snooker Loopy

Snooker, while still shown on television today, probably had its peak in the mid 80s. The 1985 world championship final between Steve Davis and Dennis Taylor went to the last ball of the last frame. Taylor won, the game finished well after midnight, with 18.5 million people watching. On BBC2!

Dave Lee Travis' "Give Us A Break" quiz on Radio 1 probably helped too. (I'm pretty sure that the quiz machine based on this was the very first that I played on.)

It's a complaint that there are fewer personalities now to hold the public interest, despite the efforts to give players unwieldy nicknames such as "The Jester from Leicester" and "The Wizard of Wishaw". Of course, Steve Davis always seemed to be an emotionless, potting robot - a notion long-since disproved. (His appearance in "The Increasingly Poor Decisions of Todd Margaret" was a joy.)

The idea of snooker being a lark was reinforced by "The Matchroom Mob" - players all managed by Barry Hearn's Matchroom Sport.

So you have a traditional pub 'sport' and want to record a novelty single. Who do you call? Why, the finest exponents of rockney, Chas & Dave! They're like The Wurzels of London's East End. They also had form with sport-related songs, having already done two for Tottenham Hotspurs cup runs in 1981 and 1982.

And so, in time for the 1986 world championship, "Snooker Loopy" was recorded. Several of the Matchroom players had a couple of lines dedicated to them, which (I've just realised) brings to mind Monty Python's "Bruce's Philosophers Song". Sometimes the player himself would provide a little vocal.

Then the chorus:

Snooker loopy nuts are we
Me and him and them and me

Try singing it like a medieval madrigal and it improves slightly. (Replace Chas' piano with a lute and you have a lost classic of the middle ages.)

The full lyrics are here if you need to know the rest. Yes, the BBC website.

The B-side was called "Wallop! (Snookered)". I remember only the bridge to the chorus, which had the most Cockney pronunciation of "He's gone down" - "eeeez gaaahn daaahn".

The only other thing I remember about the single is that it had all the results for the 1986 World Championship printed on the reverse of the sleeve. Joe Johnson won, if you're interested.

The Grey Singles Box of Dubious Quality

Growing up, I had a grey record box for my 7 inch vinyl singles. My sister, Nicola, had a similar one, which was red.

My Mum and Dad's albums were in the big record box downstairs. Abba, Frankie Valli, Elvis. Were there any Beatles or Stones album? Nostalgic TV shows which have shown pristine copies of Sgt Pepper have messed with my mind... but didn't we have a copy? Not that we ever listened to it.

There was also a "Junior Choice" compilation. The Wombles, Captain Beaky, Matchstick Men and Matchstalk Cats and Dogs and plenty more that escape me. (Runs to internet ... no, can't find anything.)

Most of their singles were stacked in a cupboard, sometimes brought out for our curiosity. "Let's Go To Jersey" being the strangest, "Jimmy Mack"/"Third Finger Left Hand" one of the best. However, "Dead Ringer For Love" lived in one of our record boxes. Looking at the release date (November 1981) I suspect my Dad bought it, unless it was a second birthday present for my sister...

With the passing of time, I can't properly remember all of the singles I owned. As I've compiled my confessional list, some may have belonged to Nicola. She definitely had better taste than me. She owned Frankie Goes To Hollywood's "The Power of Love". She bought The Housemartins' "Caravan of Love" - and me being the long-time Paul Heaton fan.

I know many had plain paper sleeves, which doesn't help my failing faculties. One of these definitely had an oversized centre hole, which was certainly an Adam Ant single. But which one? Not "Apollo 9" because that had the picture sleeve. (Ant sporting unnecessary plasters, years before Robbie Fowler was doing so.) "Goody Two Shoes"? I don't know.

I know there were also some dodgy rock singles (Whitesnake!) in there, which I think came from my cousin.

However, my own purchases were far worse. I can see myself waking up one morning, having recalled another terrible single. I'll let you know when I do.

Tune of the day

I've been humming bits from this all day. I do not know why.

The Proclaimers - as recommended by former Doctor Who (and their fellow Scotsman) David Tennant.

Enjoy!

Wikipedia is great! [citation needed]

Wikipedia will soon be eleven years old. It was founded on January 15, 2001 and since then has grown to be the primary source of material for lazy journalists.

The scope of articles is phenomenal, if disturbing. Alongside the topics you would expect from an encyclopedia - the natural world, history and so on - are the stranger peccadilloes of the Internet. Nothing is of too little importance, despite the attempts of editors to remove some of the chaff.

You can tell that the site has only been active for the last decade, and that some contributors have too much time on their hands, by looking any article on a living person.

Earlier today, I read the article about Adam Ant, for a "Musical Youth" post to come. The parts covering his initial tentative fame and early 80s heyday are detail enough, with detail comparable to that you might expect from a general history of British music. It also covers his move to America, acting roles and some further musical work. This neatly brings his story to the early 2000s, and Wikipedia.

The space devoted to his life since then is equivalent to that covering everything before.

His court appearance and sectioning are documented, as you might expect. The more recent activity is not. It is beyond meticulous, in the realm of obsessive.  The section for his 2011 UK tour is exhaustively detailed - split into two parts - with no gig review too minor to be excluded.

If newspapers are the first draft of history, Wikipedia may be the rough cut.

Musical youth

"If music be the food of love, play on."

He had a way with words, Shakespeare.

Like most people, music is something I enjoy. I have bought hundreds of CDs, been to dozens of gigs and a few festivals, written terrible lyrics that could have become awful songs, although never really had notions of being a performer. I bought, and still buy, music magazines.

I was born in 1977, Silver Jubilee year and about a month before the Sex Pistols were being held off number one by Rod Stewart and scurrilous rumours of chart fixing.

My childhood of the 1980s: the time of New Romantic, New Wave, heck even Wham! ...

... except it wasn't.

I did watch Top of the Pops when growing up ( "It's Thursday! It's 7 o'clock!") but can remember none of those iconic or awful - or both at the same time - performances.

My young taste in music was, frankly, terrible. (But is it not the same with any child?) Any singles I bought would be picked up in Morrison's supermarket with the weekly shopping. Woolworth's was a foreign land. HMV, Virgin, Our Price - these meant nothing to me. WH Smith may have prompted some curiosity, but I was more interested in the latest copy of Electron User or the computer games.

It wasn't until my first Saturday job much later that I began to expand my horizons. University broadened them further, bolstered by grant and student loan. I'll talk about my favourite discoveries separately.

But for now, and as I recall them from my ageing brain, I'm going to confess to the horrors I purchased with my pocket money. It might not be pretty.

Paul Heaton - Acid Country

A wonderful state-of-the-nation address by Paul Heaton.

Twenty five years after The Housemartins, he still wears his politics very much on his sleeve.

Let's fight a war on greed

Not a war on poverty

Click here to listen: Acid CountrPauly

(Yes it goes to MySpace - listen to it while the site still exists, if only for Justin Timberlake's sake!)

(I really must go to bed.)

What does the Metro stand for?

Mainly Espousing Terrible Right-wing Opinions

Makes Every Train Resemble Oblivion

Mostly Excites The Righteous Orders

Morning Effluent That Rouses Outrage

May Excite The Reactionary Oddballs

Maddening Everyone Through Ridiculous Objections

My Eyes! The Random Offensiveness!

How not to return to work...

1. Get woken at 5am by the raging storm outside

2. Fail to get back to sleep for the next hour...

3. ...and just as you contemplate sleep, at 6.22 the phone rings for oncall support

4. Hastily dress, grabbing everything that might be required for the day ahead

5. Attempt to start car

6. Abandon attempt, cursing that it did start the previous night

7. Check train times and, finding the next one arrives in 7 minutes, run for it

8. Arrive at work at 7.07

The (lack of) Joy of Travel

I am old enough to remember Alan Whicker. Yes he shilled for Barclaycard, but he also presented 'Whicker's World'.

This was a globe-trotting series from the days when long-haul flights were expensive, required multiple stops for refuelling and had an irresistible sheen of glamour.

These were the days of the jet set. Movie stars. Models. Millionaire businessmen. Minor royalty.

The series presented travel as a relaxing pursuit, where you could discover as much or as little about your chosen destination at your own pace.

It seems a world away from modern travel, because it is.

Modern travel is horrible. It is tiring, stressful, nerve-wracking, tedious ... and if you are really unlucky, your chosen destination will be infuriating and no fit place to relax. (Unless you are a masochist who wants that sort of thing.)

Here are some reasons why.

1. Thomas Cook
Yes there is the convenience of having all your holiday planned and booked for you, and he can hardly be held responsible for Club 18-30 or whatever it's called now. (Ironically, -12 was the average IQ of their holidaymaker.)  However as the first travel agent, I am holding him to account for all subsequent agencies.

Many are fine establishments, with fine, motivated staff, but there's something a little disheartening about the proliferation of them on the high streets, each window an overlit beacon of forced cheerfulness.

2. Michael O'Leary
The man is a genius. Cut and cut and cut and cut, then cut some more. Advertise flights as cheap, then add everything back on as fees and charges. Insult your customers like the cattle you would have otherwise been tending in Ireland, but be lauded as 'plain speaking'. Dress like a tit at the drop of a hat yet still be taken seriously.

The turnaround time on Ryanair is twenty five minutes. It is little wonder that it is so expensive to have the audacity of taking a suitcase. Can you imagine unloading nearly 200 items and then loading another 200 in less than half an hour? Neither can Mick, so gently nudge your customers into travelling with hand luggage, not forgetting to drill your gate staff to ruthlessly check every item so you can cheerfully charge even more to put an item in the hold. Guantanamo Bay should have contracted to Ryanair, not Blackstone - forcing an orange-suited inmate to repeatedly go through such procedures would have cracked them in no time at all.

Oh, and then you are stuffed on a plane and relentlessly sold at for the length of your flight. (I will admit that it is impressive to perform the whole routine of newspapers - refreshments - duty free - scratchcards on a 40 minute flight.)

3. Architects
I know that not much should be expected of the architectural quality of large, newly built hotels, but do they all have to be so unremittingly awful. The average holidaymaker is looks to escape for one or two weeks from the drudgery of working in an office or factory. The last thing they want is to be staying in somewhere resembling their workplace. If they are lucky enough to be in a hotel which has a bit of style about it, a quick glance outside should shatter their reverie.

4. Terrorists
Terrorists no longer need to perform any more aviation-based attacks. The planet has been scared into submission. In the name of security (do you need help with that rubber glove, officer?) travellers are subject to evermore intrusive checks. If the full cavity search isn't for you, we can instead microwave you to see through your clothes.

In fact, shedding our clothes (and inhibitions) might be the answer. 'Is that a gun in your... oh, just pleased to see me. Move along.'

5. Us
We are all intolerable and intolerant now.

The misplaced sense of privilege and entitlement, coupled with bizarre notions of respect and expectation, have the potential to make a flashpoint out of any situation.

Keep quiet and to yourself, you are singled out as the weirdo, unless you are doing so to avoid confrontation with the loudmouth gobshites insisting on making their voices heard, even though it is a stream of bellowing, belching and curses.

Society has been conditioned to believe that everyone else is somehow either bucking the system or better off by unfair means.

And breathe...

Where do I apply for my grumpy old man license?

Sir Alex and the space-time continuum

So it begins.

The mind games.

I think I'm right in stating that Ferguson's skills were first noted after his less-than difficult success in goading Kevin Keegan into his 'love it' rant at Elland Road.

The taunts have all the sophistry of a schoolyard, around the level of 'Yeah, and your mum!'

So to this season. With the poor oil tycoon's plaything (Chelsea) out of the running, you would believe that only the rich oil tycoon's plaything, Manchester City, would be the target of his venom.

Having regularly dismissed City as noisy neighbours, the risk of repeating himself is too great for Sir Alex. Instead he has a novel solution, guaranteed to gain extra press attention: ignore City completely and talk up Tottenham and the media-friendly manager Harry Redknapp.

It is a valid opinion, so what is the point of this post?

It's the remark that Spurs do not have the 'Thursday/Sunday' problem to contend with.

What?

This isn't the first time anyone has stated this, but when did this blatant piece of balls become an accepted fact?

How is this any different to a Wednesday/Saturday problem, or indeed a Saturday/Tuesday problem? You remember those don't you, Sir Alex?

I don't believe for a second that with over 30 years of being subject to the whims of ITV (yes, The Big Match, kids!) and Sky to move games to Sunday  clubs still treat it solely as a day of rest when there is a high likelihood of being required to play a game.

Were football managers major backers of Keep Sunday Special campaigns? Are footballers especially religious? (Yes, Kaka and various other South Americans belong to God, but are they representative of the wider playing base?)

Is football trying to unshackle itself from the laws of physics? (Niels Bohr aside, there's very little intersection.)

Three days are three days. The start and end points make no difference.