The Boy Realisation Demon & Queen Moon Disparaging

Great to see Duncan Jones win a BAFTA at the recent awards ceremony. I heard him being interviewed a few months ago on the radio and he was a gracious, amusing intelligent young man and I was captivated by him. No surprise then to learn he is the son of David Bowie. Duncan had been saddled with the name of Zowie Bowie for most of his childhood. When he was 13 Zowie decided he wanted to be called Joe and then he reverted, at 19, to the name on his birth certificate - Duncan. The name Duncan was Bowie's choice (what was he thinking? Duncan?) and Duncan he remains. Men generally don't have to change their name. The actor/comic David Walliams, the really camp one from Little Britain, changed his name from David Williams. There was, of course, already a David Williams in equity and Mr Williams (the camp one) didn't want to change his name too drastically so he swapped a couple of vowels around. It is more common for women to change their name. Some women change their names as often as other women change their underwear. Some of us have a pseudonym. It would be great, but confusing, to be able to change our names, if we wanted with each passing decade. When I was about 10 I wanted to be Adrianne. Having just had a milestone birthday I quite fancy a more appropriate name to reflect my maturity. Something more solid and serious than than the name my parents gave me. I am toying with 'Katherine' which is the full version of my pseudonym.

Duncan's parents are reported to have had an open marriage and they took full advantage of the sex and drugs that were available to them being young, beautiful and famous. The marriage was short lived and Bowie won custody of the young Zowie/Joe/Duncan and the child was effectively raised by a nanny as at this stage in his life Bowie was leading a pretty hedonistic lifestyle. Duncan has a close relationship with his father but he has not seen his mother since he was a teenager when she accused him of being 'bourgeois'. So Ab Fab! Both parents are reportedly very proud of Duncan and thrilled with his success although it would seem from her comments the ex Mrs Bowie believes the film 'Moon', for which Duncan won a BAFTA for 'Best Debut by a British Director', is about her. Duncan denies this. Sadly Duncan has not inherited any of his fathers musical talent. He cannot play any instruments despite Bowie encouraging him and giving him every opportunity to learn a variety of instruments from an early age. Maybe Duncan was itching to pick up a guitar and start strumming and his refusal to learn was his way of rebelling. Its a wonder he didn't become a bank manager!

'Moon' is the story of Sam Bell, a astronaut, who is on a three year contract to harvest hellium 3, a fuel used on Earth. Bell is alone on the Lunar Station and begins to suffer from lack of human contact. Towards the end of his three year stint he has an accident and in the aftermath he begins to doubt his sanity, his true identity and his employers motives. Bells sole mission becomes how to get back to Earth and the family he has left behind.

There is a website that gives you your divine Buddhist name. All you have to do is enter your name in the search engine and then, in a matter of seconds, it comes up with a divine name, and, if you should request, a random one. Mine names are 'Boy Realisation Demon' (divine) and 'Queen Moon Disparaging' (random). Mmm. Think I'll stick with the one on my birth certificate. After all what's in a name?

'Tis but thy name that is my enemy;
Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.
What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot,
Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part
Belonging to a man. O, be some other name!
What's in a name? that which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet;
So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd,
Retain that dear perfection which he owes
Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name,
And for that name which is no part of thee
Take all myself.

Shakespeare 'Romeo and Juliet' 1600

`Suddenly...Sorry isn't the hardest word

A definition

apology: a written or spoken expression of one's regret, remorse, or sorrow for having insulted, failed, injured, or wronged.

What a few weeks for apologies it has been!

The British Government say sorry to the hundreds of children it deported to Australia in the last century:

'And this is a genuinely historic moment, as Gordon Brown, the Prime Minister, rises from his place in the House of Commons… He is standing now at the Dispatch Box… And yes, he is announcing he wants to make a public apology for – er – the deportation of children to Commonwealth countries, between 60 and 90 years ago.' This is a truly sad story. Children taken from local authority care and sent to the other side of the world, away from their family, their friends. One an only hope that this belated apology has made them feel better and made up for the confusion, fear and homesickness they may have suffered.

Tiger Woods apologising to, well everyone, for cheating on his wife with, well,
everyone:

Woods held a press conference and he addressed the controversy surrounding him, defended his wife Elin and also apologised to his fans and family for his infidelities. Maybe this is the way forward for testosterone filled sportsman who make a habit of shagging anything with a pulse (did you see Ashley Coles hairdressing shag? Shudder!)Maybe the more public the humiliation for the wife the more public the apology has to be. Shag one women and you can apologise via email,shag two and apology has to go on Twitter, three it has to go on YouTube and any more than that the apologiser has to call a press conference. Ashley Cole, Chelsea footballer and husband of the tiny and delectable Cheryl Cole, will be on the tea time news tomorrow looking crestfallen and contrite wiping a tear away as he says he needs help for his 'sex addiction'. Then an apology will be demanded from the BBC for devoting too much time to these nonentities when a war is being fought and disasters are happening all over the world. Ash...just a thought, try this -

It's sad, so sad
It's a sad, sad situation
And it's getting more and more absurd
It's sad, so sad
Why can't we talk it over
Oh it seems to me
That sorry seems to be the hardest word

Back to Woods. He reminded us in his apology he is a Buddhist. 'People probably don't realise it,' he said, 'but I was raised a Buddhist, and I actively practiced my faith from childhood until I drifted away from it in recent years.' Woods believes his Buddhist faith will be a key factor in helping him put his life back on track.

'Buddhism teaches that a craving of things outside ourselves causes an unhappy and pointless search for security,' he continued. 'It teaches me to stop following every impulse and to learn restraint.'

But Buddhist scholars say that forgiveness and redemption are core components of the faith. 'You're always beginning again in the Buddhist tradition,' said John Kornfield, a prominent Buddhist teacher based in California. 'You see that you're causing harm, you repent and ask forgiveness in some formal or informal way, and you start again.'

Buddhism, unlike love, means always having to say you're sorry.

Whoops, sorry I scored? No, sorry I missed!

Recent reports say that Wayne Bridges, Manchester City and England player, has, following allegations that his ex-girlfriend had an affair with Chelsea's John Terry, has opted not to be chosen for England duty. Bridges says "It has always been an honour to play for England. However, after careful thought I believe my position in the squad is now untenable and potentially divisive. Sadly therefore, I feel for the sake of the team and in order to avoid what will be inevitable distractions, I have decided not to put myself forward for selection." Of course Bridges is right. He must be very hurt and disappointed by the behaviour of someone he once loved and someone he thought of as a friend. Ms Perroncel was more than an ex-girlfriend. She is the mother of his child and Mr Terry was his friend. Ms Perroncel was also a close friend of Mrs Terry and the two families had shared holidays together. Perroncel and Terry are not two people who fell in love and had no choice but to devastate those close to them by becoming lovers. They just fancied a shag. Interestingly, Mark Bright, a sports commentator for BBC television and Radio 5 Live, told jokes about Terry and Bridge and repeated an abusive terrace chant about Terry’s conduct, which suggested it would be unwise to leave your wife close to the England and Chelsea captain. Bright has been 'forced' to
apologise. Which he did. On Twitter.

Speaking of John Terry, back in 2008 Terry, following his penalty miss in Moscow, felt the need to take the blame for the defeat squarely on his shoulders, issuing a public apology to everyone connected to Chelsea. In an open letter on the clubs website. Terry said "I am so sorry for missing the penalty and denying you the fans, my team-mates, family and friends, the chance to become European champions." I wonder if he feels so bad about denying Bridges the chance to represent his country in the 2010 World cup?


Toyota apologise to the millions of people who own a Toyota:

Toyota president and chief executive officer Akio Toyoda told a congressional committee that he takes "full responsibility" for the auto maker's problem. This apology has come rather late in the day and Toyota now have a long and difficult journey to re-estalish confidence in the brand.


apology 2010 style- a very public acknowledgement that you have been a prat and the promise that you will take medication for your pratmania and will never be a prat again.

the whistleblowers fate

Recent accusations about Gordon Brown and an episode of 'The Good Wife' that was shown last night has made me consider the Whistleblowers fate.

The Whistle blowers Press Agency (yes, really) carries the byline 'Sustaining the Truth, Championing the Individual'. This agency pays people to blow the whistle. Surely this goes against the essence of whistleblowing? In my romantic little world a person whistleblows because something wrong is happening within an organisation and is being covered up. They blow the whistle because it is in the public's best interests. Because life's are being put at risk or because an injustice is being done or maybe just because people are acting immorally, for instance the MPs milking expenses.

I am going to resist making a joke at the expense of her name but Ms Pratt's whistleblowing has backfired and she has had her fingers burnt. Ms Pratt, chief executive of the The National Bullying Helpline revealed to the BBC that her organisation had been contacted by members of Gordon Browns staff. Ms Pratt gave her reason for whistleblowing as 'being angered by government denials'. Anger is not the best motive for whistleblowing. Anger clouds judgement and had she not been angered she may have considered the small matter of client confidentiality which is vital to an organisation like TNBH.

John Wicks, the former SAS officer who was the whistle blower in the MP expenses debacle says his motive was to expose a system 'rotten to its core'. Mr Wick says he was aware of the risk he was taking but felt the public deserved to know about the abuses being taken with taxpayers money. He said he had no regrets and hoped that it would make 'Parliament a better place and society a better place.' The abuse of the system made him angry but his action wasn't driven by anger. Indignation maybe. Disgust probably. But his whistle blowing was a considered response.

'The Good Wife' is the latest American legal drama and tells the story of Alicia Florrick whose husband, a State Attorney, has been jailed as a result of a very public sex and corruption scandal (but strangely a character who exudes warmth, decency and intelligence!). Alicia has to return to work as a lawyer in order to take care of her family after being a stay at home 'mom' for many years. In last nights episode Alicia takes on the case of three widows who are suing their dead husbands former employer, a train company, after their husbands are killed in a train crash. Of course it looks as if the widows stand a snowflakes chance in hell of a successful prosecution against this all powerful company. As Alicia investigates further it becomes clear the company covered up a serious fault with a mechanical part, bad working practices and a total disregard for the employees further down the food chain. Several (management level) employees were aware of the problems and conspired to falsify documents. One employee wanted to help Alicia discover the truth and, although unable to blow the whistle, she tried to help behind the scenes. The finale presented Alicia with a moral dilemma which forced her to consider her own experience of losing the way of life she had enjoyed and cherished with her much loved husband and the oath she had taken as a lawyer which was enshrined in the pursuit of justice. The impact on the would be whistleblower was devastating but the viewer was meant to feel justice had been done.

Haringey are being sued by a Social Worker who claims she was hounded out of her job for writing a letter to the then Secretary of State, Patricia Hewitt. Local authorities have Whistleblowing Policies that are meant to protect the employee and the employer. In Haringeys case it appears to have protected no one. Least of all Baby Peter.

Courage. That's what it takes to be a Whistleblower. Because telling the truth is sometimes a difficult thing to do. The truth teller may lose their job, their reputation, their credibility. It may be difficult for them to find another job. They risk losing friends. Of not being trustworthy. They take the risk of being a either a hero or a villain. But ultimately the truth will set them free.

Blow a whistle, make a noise

Make them listen, shout out the truth

Prepare for criticism, prepare for hurt

Reveal the facts, show the proof

Write a letter, make the call

Gather the evidence, show your strength

Take a breath, take the fall

True friends stay, the rest run away

Some will cheer, some will criticise

Speak the truth and you may pay

But the truth will set you free.

Fowey...pronounced to rhyme with 'Joy - 'Destination of the Year'

Having spent many holidays in Cornwall I thought I was familiar with its many gems so I was delighted to be introduced to Fowey, a place I have never visited before. It reminded me of Dartmouth but on a much smaller, more intimate scale. Like Dartmouth it has two small towns that cling to the rock face on either side of the river that flows into a wide harbour and a ferry that chugs between the two places delivering people and their cars to work and to school, or to visit friends and family. Like Dartmouth it has a fort/castle protecting the harbour entrance and a gorgeous array of quaint shops. It must be a nightmare in the summer with crowds of holidaymakers but in the middle of February it was delightful. The sun shone, skies were blue and it was almost warm.
One of my oldest friends has a stepsister who is fortunate enough to live in Fowey. This Fowey resident was 'Headteacher of the Year 2009' and is Head of a school 15 miles from Fowey. Now I hate this sort of crap. I had my hair cut last month by the 'Hairdresser of the Year 2009' and was disappointed much preferring the excellent cut I had in Malishi Hair Design, Snowfields, a wonderful Japanese hairdressers that give the best head massages and precision cuts to be found in London. Well, in South London. You expect so much more from a 'of the Yearer' and will inevitably be disappointed. John Terry for instance was recently 'Father of the Year'. Does being a crap husband automatically mean you will be a crap father? No, of course it doesn't....but he is a bit of a wanker and since when have bit of wankers picked up any 'of the yearer' awards other than 'Wanker of the Year' which he would have deserved. Katie Price, AKA Jordan, is in the running for 'Mother of the Year'. Katie is reported to want her daughter Princess Tiaamii to be a Page 3 girl. Not Dr Princess Tiaamii but 'Princess Tiaammii from Brighton aged 17 showing us her jewels'. Surey Mrs Reid, nee Andre, nee Price is a better nominee for 'Bride of Frankenstein...whoops, I mean Of the Year'. She does getting married so well. Or at least OK magazine think so. The best judge of 'Parent of the Year' has to be the children and I doubt if they are consulted and all kids think they have the best parents, even those who have crap ones. Harriet Harman was recently nominated for 'Rear of the Year'. This must present her with a bit of a dilemma. As woman in her late 50s she must be thrilled but as Minister for Women and a staunch feminist she must be appalled. What is more shocking is that it has only taken 12....yes, 12, nominations for her to be in the running. MPs will stoop at anything to take peoples mind of the expenses scandal! I would nominate Harriet for 'Feminist of the Year' if such a 'of the year' existed and I could motivate myself to be bothered. Oddly 'Feminist of the Year' doesn't seem to exist. There is 'Loo of the Year' (I nominate the Wetherspoons in Mare Street), 'Austrailian of the Year' (Hugh Jackman is my man) and yes...there is a 'Blogger of the Year'. I have decided to refuse any 'of the Yearer' that is offered to me. On principal.

Narrow and Wide, Lonliness and Perfection

The Narrow

The evening didn't get off to the best of starts. Gordon Ramsey's gasto pub was busy, even at this early time in the evening and as we entered the door we were ushered out as the kitchen had caught fire which doesn't bode well for a tasty gastronomic experience. After standing outside in the cold for over twenty minutes (not by the stunning river views but by the underground car park which is the muster point) it was a relief to be allowed back in the building only to be informed that they couldn't guarantee being able to serve dinner as they didn't have any electricity. I had read some poor reviews about the food and service and although I cannot comment on the quality of the food the staff were great . I even received a follow up phone call to apologise for the inconvenience. But as tickets had been booked for the cinema waiting for them to sort things out wasn't an option so we ended up at Prezzos which is much nicer than a Pizza Express and both food and service were excellent.

The Wide

I have avoided reading The Lovely Bones, written by Alice Sebold, as I was keen to see the film and was worried that I would judge the film on my experience of the book. I am really looking forward to reading the book as I have just finished Stephen Kings latest epic 'The Dome' which has been formulating for over 20 years in his mind and on various manuscripts buried in the cupboards and drawers of his home and I am missing the people he created. One of King's greatest talents is writing books that are full of people. Some you get to know better than others and some you don't want to know and wish he hadn't introduced you to them. And some you connect with and it is sad to say goodbye to them. I like the fact that when he first thought of The Dome the subject was too big for him to tackle, he lacked the knowledge or access to the knowledge that would make to book work. I should imagine that the internet has made The Dome possible as it enables a writer to check out facts and allows researchers access to a wealth of information, literally at their fingertips. The Dome narrows the characters world but widens their minds. Which isn't always a good thing! Certainly not for all the residents of the small town who wake one morning to find themselves encased in a glass dome. Like the penguin in the snow shaker in the scene that opens the film 'The Lovely Bones'.

The Lovely Bones is set in Pennsylvania in 1973 and tells the story of the brutal rape and murder of a 14yr old girl and the repercussions for the family. The young actress who plays the victim Susie, Saoirse Ronan, looked exactly like I did as a 13yr old in 1973. Same hair style, same clothes, same day dreams and same crush on a beautiful boy. Unlike me however Susie had a beautiful life with beautiful parents, siblings and home. The only non beautiful person is her gran played by the beautiful Susan Saradon who is a straight talking, hard drinking slightly estranged presence in the family. I am sure the book delves deeper into the relationship between the gran and her daughter played by Rachel Weisz. The film apparently has left out some crucial parts of the story, not least the affair the bereaved mother has with the detective investigating the case. Although this is never referred to in the film it was implied - simply - by just a look. Sometimes this is all it takes to reveal all. The rape and murder, thankfully, is not shown, and the rape never mentioned. Somethings do not need explaining or described. But from the minute Susie is approached by the paedophile your stomach fills with butterflies and, later on in the film, there is a scene when my heart literally stopped beating for a second.

In death Susie's world narrows to a place between heaven and earth, a place that is surreal, stunning, sometimes barren and scary, sometimes lush and comforting. It was the perfect limbo for a teenage girl of her time and had an almost Alice in Wonderland feel. I think that grown ups (mostly male ones) wouldn't 'get' this imagery in the same way that I did. I was Susie. I had been Susie in my earlier existence. And this would have been my Limbo. Then.

Susie and her dad, played by Mark Wahlberg, looking worryingly like Robin Askwith of 'Confessions of' fame, are very close and he is achingly proud of his girl. Susie was going places. This is something the viewer just knows. She wanted to be a photographer and used up rolls and rolls of film that her parents despaired of ever affording to have developed. They finally agreed to have one roll a month developed and shortly after her death her dad finds a shoe box full of these rolls and decides to have roll a month developed as promised. Her mother just wants to have them all done at once and can't understand his need to stick to this deal. As is often the case different people have different ways of coping with loss and one of the saddest aspects of the film is watching a loving family fall apart.

Susie's own love story is underplayed and rather just focuses on the lost chance to be kissed. Grief is a selfish emotion. You hear people say 'I'll never get to hear his voice again' or
'I'll never be a grandparent now' when they have lost a lover or a child. Susie missed out on her first kiss. Her first love affair. She was denied the chance to travel and take photographs of the sights she would see and the faces she would grow to love. Susie would never become the person she was destined to be and you know that this is the greatest tragedy. All because she was brought up to be a polite girl who left school later than usual one afternoon and bumped into a neighbour who had an dangerous itch that had to be scratched occasionally.

Ms Ronan has a face of such innocence and purity and she is perfectly cast as Susie. I suspect that I may have been disappointed by the film if I had read the book first so I am glad that I still have that treat in store. If you are 70s child and love films to be beautifully shot, have a poetic vibe, if you enjoy films that feature actors who are believable and characters that are well crafted then this a film worth seeing. However, as with most adaptations the film is a narrow version of the book and maybe you would be better advised to read the book.

Susie worries that the penguin in the snow globe is lonely but her dad reassures her that the penguin isn't lonely. He says the penguin is lucky because it lives in a perfect world. Can anyone be really happy in a perfect, but narrow world?

Yadda Yadda

Yadda Yadda

Blah Blah

Chatter Chatter

Voices all around. Making sounds

Saying nothing.

Hello...See Ya...Get me a Latte...Did you remember the sun cream?...

Hold my hand!... A 99 please...She said she stayed there last year...

Do you think the waters cold?...I told you he'd bloody make a fuss...

Mum..................Dad..................Alfie.............................

Why's everything left to me?...Where did you say we'd meet them?...

Come here...Let's go over there...She said...He turned round and said...

Don't throw sand...Don't be ogling that tart...Don't wear those Speedos FFS...

Should have gone abroad...Should have brought a picnic...shouldn't have had that Saveloy...

Did you get a paper...Let's get lunch...Look! A windsurfer...Where's me book?

Where's the toilet?...

Bloody wind...Bloody sand...Bloody sea

Yadda Yadda

Blah Blah

Chatter Chatter

When will someone say something fucking important?

The Woman Who Hid Her Light Under A Bushel

She listened to the voices that sounded like hers

And knew that it was the sound of ignorance

She watched the scenes played out before her

Those scenes she understood and could imitate

And knew that the outside world looked down with distain

The woman who hid her light under a bushel.


She sees an assumption in ‘their’ eyes

And knows she doesn’t fit in

She feels the distance between her and ‘them’

Keeping close to the ground while ‘they’ flew high

A fear that kept her tethered, a life that made demands

The woman who hid her light under a bushel


She used to know her place, it was clearly defined

Acceptance made life simple, passive aggression her weapon

She was good at keeping the illusion

Until the wall was reached and a choice had to be made

Can she raise her head above the parapet?

The woman who hid her light under a bushel!