He would have been 80 years old today. And it’s 40 years since the film was released. I can’t believe it. Until a few minutes ago, in fact, I’d completely forgotten he was also in the original Four Yorkshiremen sketch, BP (Before Python). Thank God for YouTube.
“He spent half of the show wearing what looked like a chain-mail gimp mask. This novel piece of theatre quickly grew tiring.” A Kanye West concert that sounds so grim I almost wish I’d been there.
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Tagged Kanye West
Watching the Brazil-Chile game at Guarulhos International Airport, São Paulo. By Eddie Keogh.
He looked at the calendar, picked out a date for me to start recording, pointed to it and circled it, told me what time to come in and to think about what I wanted to play. Then he called in Billy James, the head of publicity at the label, told Billy to write some promo stuff on me, personal stuff for a press release…. I strolled into his office, sat down opposite his desk, and he tried to get me to cough up some facts, like I was supposed to give them to him straight and square… He asked about my family, where they were. I told him I had no idea, that they were long gone.
“What was your home life like?”
I told him I’d been kicked out.
“What did your father do?”
“And your mother, what about her?”
“What kind of music do you play?”
“What kind of music is folk music?”
Bob Dylan, “Chronicles, Vol 1″.
The funk master from Salvador, Carlinhos Brown, sings “Aganju”. From my Brazil playlist.
As journalism lurches from one morale-sapping crisis to another, the PR industry thrives. Nick Cohen is mad as hell and can’t take it any more:
As with Nye Bevan and Conservatives so with me and PR departments: “No amount of cajolery, and no attempts at ethical or social seduction, can eradicate from my heart a deep burning hatred for press officers. So far as I am concerned they are lower than vermin.” Or as the BBC’s economics editor Robert Peston put it in his recent Charles Wheeler lecture, “I have never been in any doubt that PRs are the enemy.”
[...] You might say that biased reporters look more like sex workers, as they try to satisfy their readers’ every whim. But there is a small difference. The biased journalist occasionally tells the truth. He might produce propaganda, but his bias or that of his editor will cause him to investigate stories conventional wisdom does not notice. Right-wing journalists uncover truths about corruption in the European Union. Left-wing journalists discover truths about the crimes of Nato armies. They look at scandals others ignore precisely because they do not think like level-headed and respectable members of the mainstream.
Press officers have no concern with truth. It is not that all of them lie — although many do — rather that truth and falsity are irrelevant to their work. Their sole concern is to defend their employers’ interests. That they can manipulate on behalf of central government, local authority and other public bodies is an under-acknowledged scandal. The party in power that wishes to stop public scrutiny, or the NHS trust whose executives wish to maintain their positions, use taxpayer funds to advance their personal or political interests. If anyone else did the same, we would call them thieves.
Roy Greenslade feels much the same way.
Supporters in Chicago. Photo by Scott Olson/Getty. Go here to see more of his shots from “the most soccer-mad city in America”.
[*Blogpost title with apologies to Peter Handke.]
Neymar aside, it’s very hard to work up much enthusiasm for the Brazilian XI in the World Cup. The general lack of confidence and guile on display almost reminds me of England. How about that for an insulting comparison? At each game I’ve seen so far, the singing of the national anthem has been the only time the players look roughly in synch. Will they beat Colombia on Friday? I wouldn’t count on it. Ah well, at least the host nation has a quality player between the posts this time. Not that the locals can ever get all that excited over whoever wears the No 1 jersey:
Júlio César, the starting goalkeeper for Brazil, is a frangueiro (chicken man). He is also a peru (turkey) and, on occasion, a mão de alface (or, roughly, lettuce hands). These are the printable euphemisms that Brazilians have for goalkeepers… In Brazil, goalkeepers are special, and not in a good way. They are the Little League right fielders, the last boy picked. In pickup games on the countless asphalt courts around this country, children usually play a form of rock-paper-scissors to decide which unlucky soul has to begin the game at goalkeeper. In the slightly more organized games in which adults rent a field to play on, anyone who agrees to play goalkeeper always plays free of charge.
[Via Simon Romero]
Along with direct rule, the French brought their penal code to Vietnam. Goodwill largely motivated them, since Vietnamese law beheaded thieves and had adulterous women trampled to death by elephants. But French jurisprudence confused and convulsed Vietnam’s traditional legal system without creating a viable alternative. It could not handle subtle Vietnamese judicial nuances, such as refraining from pronouncing a defendant’s name in court lest he “lose face”. It also contributed to the erosion of Vietnamese society in which, according to Confucian tenets, the father arbitrated family altercations or called on a respected dignitary to mediate a dispute informally. Besides, French justice lost its credibility when colonial police could wantonly jail suspects for years without putting them on trial.
Stanley Karnow, “Vietnam: A History”.