Pieces of String

It's half term already and I am spending this latter half of the week carrying out my parental duties: ie; arsing about on the net while the kids look after themselves. It's been a beautiful few days. I got promoted at work, the snowdrops are poking their pert and pretty little heads up and the weather has become springlike. There is a warmth in the air, and while it is raining while I type, the birds are singing and the air is full of a promise of better things to come.

At the risk of sounding like a decrepit old judge, until the other week I had no idea who Jade Goody was. I was familiar with the name, but it meant nothing to me, and I had no interest in her. I am depressingly familiar with her now, even though I don't read tabloids or watch the more popular tabloidesque news programmes. You can't escape her, more's the pity. OK it's sad that she is enduring a premature death, it's sad that she will leave 2 children behind, but, frankly, I'm not interested. Tragedy will befall families all day, every day, her tragedy is no more special than anyone elses.

So she will make some cash for her kids, good. So, more women will go for smear tests, for a couple of weeks, anyway........... good. But bloody hell, enough with the beatification. Death comes to us all, it comes to some of us earlier than others; it has certainly visited my own family with a harsh and premature finality, but so what; it's not as if the world is short of replacements.

Anyway, all this is just a preamble to two Goody articles. The first a very good and thoughtful piece. The second, a spoof............a very tame spoof but one which was considered too outrageous to be posted on a Birmingham City message board which prides itself on its irreverence.

A documentary on Magazine, from 1978, it's in 5 parts. Magazine were one of the best bands I saw at Barbarellas, and I saw lots of bands. Actually, although I went to hundreds of gigs, I can't remember many of them, Magazine is one of the few I do. Joe Jackson was another, he was amazing and there were only about 100 people in there, in fact, they might both have been in the same week.

To continue the cheery theme: Confessions of a Guantamano guard. I have to admit, the bit about the brutal medic actually made me chuckle. A bit.