cynicalbastard

Mick Hucknall on copyright..

“Far from obstructing this exchange of inspiration, copyright facilitates sampling”

Will there be a more fatuous, idiotic or plain wrong statement made this year?

Blair’s setting out a new social contract–things one must do in order to get education, NHS service, etc.

No, mate, what I have to do is PAY TAXES. If you don’t deliver the services I’ve paid for, then I get to sue you. Why doesn’t the Sale of Goods Act apply to government services?

Glad to see some very important ex- and current Policemen have been spending their time uncovering the true face of Jack the Ripper.

I’m not a London council tax payer, but, if I was, I might be writing to my MP and to the Met asking, under FoIA, precisely how much involvement there was of serving officers in this media idiocy, how many other cases were put on hold, how much it cost to help out these broadcasters (or how much was earned), and how this fits in with the commitment to fight the woronterror.

Anyway, they need look no further. Identikit–

Real person–

you get scared that something might not be as good as it sounds–Thomas Pynchon’s new novel is out on the 21st.

Spanning the period between the Chicago World’s Fair of 1893 and the years just after World War I, “Against the Day” moves from the labor troubles in Colorado to turn-of-the-century New York, to London and Gottingen, Venice and Vienna, the Balkans, Central Asia, Siberia at the time of the mysterious Tunguska event, Mexico during the revolution, Paris, silent-era Hollywood, and one or two places not strictly speaking on the map at all. With a worldwide disaster looming just a few years ahead, it is a time of unrestrained corporate greed, false religiosity, moronic fecklessness, and evil intent in high places. No reference to the present day is intended or should be inferred. The sizable cast of characters includes anarchists, balloonists, gamblers, corporate tycoons, drug enthusiasts, innocents and decadents, mathematicians, mad scientists, shamans, psychics and stage magicians, spies, detectives, adventuresses, and hired guns. There are cameo appearances by Nikola Tesla, Bela Lugosi, and Groucho Marx. As an era of certainty comes crashing down around their ears and an unpredictable future commences, these folks are mostly just trying to pursue their lives. Sometimes they manage to catch up; sometimes it’s their lives that pursue them. Meanwhile, the author is up to his usual business. Characters stop what they’re doing to sing what are for the most part stupid songs. Strange sexual practices take place. Obscure languages are spoken, not always idiomatically. Contrary-to-the-fact occurrences occur. If it is not the world, it is what the world might be with a minor adjustment or two. According to some, this is one of the main purposes of fiction. Let the reader decide, let the reader beware; Good luck - Thomas Pynchon.

God, that Killers LP is crap. Appalling sub-Springsteen warbling, over-meaningful lyrics, banal tunes.

Not much better is the MY Chemical Romance one. Thought it was meant to be heavy? About as heavy as Japan’s first LP. Bad pop music.

God, I’m getting old.

Police marksmen, right, what is it they do?

They shoot people, right, don’t they?

That’s their job…

So why the fuss over this story…?

Next headline, Pope heretic shock, bear dumps in wood , etc., etc.