This This Is Is My My Life Life Now Now

Walking to work I suddenly remembered that I’d nearly forgot all about you and the tears came straight to my eyes.

I felt ashamed and I don’t know why.
Guilt I suppose.

I’m getting so busy and so happy, my lifes a dream now and time keeps passing on you’re moving further and further away brother.

I miss you.

That time of year is approaching fast again and then as I dried my eyes I remembered that last year I was getting all depressed and heavy and Marie said, in the nicest way possible, that I’d always told her you died on the 9th and it was the 8th and I got angry and made a scene…makes me wince just thinking about.

Too ashamed to say that I got the date wrong, too ashamed to say that I’m not sure I even know the date anymore.

What kind of friend am I?

Memories and knowledge are sliding out of my head brother, up to about 16 is a gaping hole and I don’t know what’s made up or real anymore and I fear the creepy crawl of the loss of my mind.

The Manson Family are moving the furniture a half-inch every day.

Sleep tight, I love you.

Keno Commercial

While I'm not writing blogs, this is the sort of stuff I'm up to! Take a look:



This is a commercial I shot last week in Norway for the new Norwegan national lottery. It was so much fun, I was sad to say goodbye when it was all over, but glad to get back home to my Eva-Jane...
She didn't take the kissing too badly... I suppose.

Blogging Breakdown...

Apologies to all my regular readers and any new ones that may have come across me (cough) from the tour of Coast to Coast (the blog address is on the info we hand out at the end of the show) for the breathtaking lack of blogging going on at this here blog.

I feel I should explain myself and as it is my blog I can do whatever the hell I want.

Blogging is like crack, if you keep doing it, you keep doing it and if you manage to stop and don't do it for a while; you fall out of the habit. Unlike crack, blogging is pretty harmless and a great deal of fun and you meet some cool people and get to shoot your mouth off about whatever takes your fancy.

Cool.

Thing is, for now, I've got so much going on in my life that blogging has to take a break and so be it; on a practical note I don't have an Internet connection at the moment so that holds things back a bit.

On top of that, I'm buying a house with Eva-Jane, touring Coast to Coast across Britain (and having a right laugh) and filming some more commercials (off to Norway next week, which is pretty ruddy bloody cool if you ask me) and trying to make a living to fund my/our new house.

Fair enough.

But don't get me wrong, once I have the Internet on tap and a home to write rants from; I'll be back on point, spewing my crap into the web ether and being a blog overlord.

So for now, peace out my homies and see you all on the other side...

Bush Descends Into War zone Like an Nasty-Ass Hawk

Is it really that time of the year already?

Posing with soldiers, shaking hands and hanging out with his overworked military homies; Bush’s attempts to shed his impotent lame-duck Presidency tag are going into overdrive at the mo, anything to prove that the costly surge was worth it.

It all took place in the Anbar Province, to prove no doubt that American might is winning in this lengthy and fatigued combat excursion; I’m frankly amazed that the US is sticking it out and well it should, but for how much longer, as the UK eases itself out of the reconstruction quagmire?

But the success of a pacified Anbar Province is very relative indeed; Iraq is still gripped by regular atrocities that would be cause for serious concern anywhere else in the world, apart from in Iraq where it counts as a pyrrhic victories.

Having said that, Anbar provides some glimmer of hope in that local Iraqi communities are starting to realise that working in tandem with non-Iraqi al-Qaeda units is not the best way forward for a stable and productive Iraq. It frustrates me that this was an option in the first place; there is a difference between anger at US/UK occupation and wanton collaboration with destructive and divisive extremist elements.

But then look at the shambles of a government, ruled by petty personal, religious interests rather than being able to see the bigger picture for the safety and security of Iraq and it’s long suffering people.

We can but hope that there is more to the improvement in Iraq than photo-ops by President Bush.

Photo Essay by Eva-Jane: Edinburgh Fringe Festival 2007

The Joy of Eva-Jane in Edinburgh

My fourth Edinburgh Fringe Festival has been a tough one, the environment at the Fringe has changed, the quality and type of work has upset me in its vacuousness and lack of heart, plus Coast to Coast has been something of a tough slog that has left Mark and I questioning why we came here in the first place.

Which is why I am so grateful for the love, support and sheer wonder of Eva-Jane Willis, who has come up to see me twice and been an absolute star. The level of support she has offered to me during this tough time has been immense, above and beyond the call of duty.

I love you Eva-Jane, thank you so much for all that you give me, along as we have each other nothing else matters. You are so beautiful and so brilliant my angel.

A Play in an Art Gallery is All Right if You Can Feel it

It’s not a typo; I had another crushing theatrical disappointment for exactly the same reason as the other post, the show in this case was called England and featured and was written by a wonderful artist called Tim Crouch.

The only trouble was it was missing heart and was once again superfluously site-specific; it didn’t have to happen in an art gallery, it was not essential to the space and the words were not essential to the spectator. I dislike works I can leave without some traces of the show being carried with me.

Having said that, after seeing England Eva-Jane and I popped off to see an American stand-up called Tony Woods who we hoped would alleviate our theatrical blues and indeed he did. Not everyone bought into his show but his relaxed style and wide range of material spanning numerous topics certainly made Eva and I giggle and I hope he gets the coverage and audiences he no doubt deserves.

I don’t know why but I like to support American comics and I go out of my way to see them and to back them, I suppose it comes down the great tradition of US stand-ups who have done so much for the medium and the chance of seeing one of them at the early stages of their career.

If you get a chance, either in the UK or the US, go and sample Tony Woods.

The Night Phil Kay Died

Phil Kay (not to be confused with Peter) is one of my favourite stand-up comedians because he is not really a stand-up, he is more of a wonderful storyteller with perhaps the greatest imagination of any living comedian.

I sat on the front row eager with anticipation and watched in horror as a Saturday night crowd failed to be impressed by his routine and then went on to destroy it, so that for the majority of the gig he sat on a stool strumming a guitar as they shouted abuse and bad jokes.

Phil Kay used the analogy that he was offering precious flowers and all the idiots were throwing out were car fumes, “aren’t we all people in a room?” he suggested in a heartfelt appeal to the raucous crowd. It fell on deaf ears as they chewed him up and spat him out, it wasn’t so much a comedic death as a massacre.

It was horrible to watch.

Bless you Phil Kay, some of us still have faith in you.

A Play in a Lorry is All Right if You Can Feel it

Something that has frustrated me during my time up in Edinburgh is the terrible predictability of the critical response to certain shows. Take for example a show written by a middle class, white girl that features non-white actors and is set in a lorry container, so thus ticks the site-specific box.

The show in question is called The Container and although it is a quality piece of theatre it is by no means deserving of the critical plaudits and I’ll tell you why: the writing is simply not up to scratch, it swings between naïve and hectoring and at times cramming inappropriate language into the mouths of characters.

The acting is of the solid sort, with some flashes of real intensity and brilliance but is at times unbelievable and one tonal. The telling truth is that the site-specific nature of the piece, wedged into the back of a lorry soon loses its fear and uniqueness as the space is neutered by the scenography, the dialogue and to a lesser degree the acting.

A real shame, I had high expectations of a show illuminating and extending the debate on immigration but instead it packages neatly so that the critics can feel they are doing something by reviewing it.

Texan Theatre and a Slut in the Hut

One of the joys of Edinburgh is getting to see good shows, there is so much out there and so much crap but occasionally you get a gem that reminds you why you love theatre; live bodies in a space making work for the other live bodies in the space.

As a massive fan of the amazing online comic Get Your War On I knew that there was a good chance I'd love the show performed by Texan theatre company the Rude Mechs and love it I did. High energy, top quality, focused performances from an excellent troupe that conveyed all the funny fury of the injustice of the Bush regime. Laughs, a tinge of sadness and wonderful choreography, if you're an American and they come within 300 miles of you go see them now!

Tim Key and his show Slut in the Hut is a different prospect all together, playing seemingly to his fan base who lapped up every word as if it were treats from the treat tree; he sailed through his performance with great confidence and imagination. However, the show was missing something for me, the format of bad poetry and non-sequiturs quickly ran its course and I was left wanting something more.

More updates as I get time on all the madness I've seen...oh and Eva-Jane has took some lovely photos, more of that later...

The Brutality of the Fringe

At last, time to update the bloody blog.

Fourth Fringe and the brutality of this place still takes me back, all the twats, the student companies, the dross, the glowing reviews for famous acts, the deluge of flyers and posters as the carbon footprint the size of Jesus Christ looms large, the petty bullshit, the stench of corporate super-sized 'Fringe', the drinking, the fucking, it's like an amatuer dramatics fresher's week.

However, there are some highlights, such as our show, performing to live audiences and laying it out there every show for the crowd, an honest effort to tell our story, to entertain and to inspire. Thank God for Hard Graft! The other bonus is meeting straight up, genuine people, of which there is a few and seeing talented performers in action, more of what I've seen in future posts. For now, things are going well and the show is improving and taking a better form. When I've time I'll regale you with stories of American stand-ups, Phil Kay dying, Texan theatre, shows in boxes and museums plus bad poetry!

Off to Edinburgh!

Well not quite but we're leaving so early tomorrow morning that best to blog now...

We've done endless runs of Coast to Coast today, honing the show to a fine comedy point, ready to burst through the unsuspecting audience leaving their guts hanging out of them like Christmas decorations...or something like that...

Just in the process of packing for a month in Scotland and once again over doing it, my case weighs more than a medium sized dog, such as a Beagle (which for the record is two stone) and may have to dump some stuff once over the border.

This is my fourth time so I kinda know what to expect, although the Fringe can be breathtaking in its brutality Mark and I are experienced practitioners; we've planned plenty of marketing tools to rise awareness and to make our excellent show stand out from the crowd. Most importantly we'll be judged on the quality of what we offer and that will speak for itself. I'll update you lot whenever I can on how it's all goes, hopefully with a mix of hard graft and talent we'll make it big and expand the tour we have planned for 2007/08.

Luckily, Eva-Jane (thank you so much for that post my angel) will be visiting plenty to keep me company and be supportive as always.

Spread the word, buy tickets and think of us as we act our bloody socks off.

Peace.

Back to Rehearsals, buy Tickets to see us Please!

It's Monday so rehearsals are back on and Edinburgh draws ever closer, our rehearsals don't look as shit as the ones above, there's a lot more stuffed toys, waterproofs and policemen's hats at our's.

Over the weekend Mark has been drumming up media interest in Coast to Coast by sending out press releases regarding what was the crappest place we visited, which has drawn some agitated response from across the UK. The answer is Whitchurch in Shropshire, we hate Whitchurch. We already have a whole raft of interviews lined up.

Don't forget to spread the word and buy some tickets for the show here.

I thank you!

"There is no Flag Large Enough to Cover the Shame of Killing Innocent People"

Leaving or not?

Maybe not.

Democrats cover their ass.

My thoughts are with the men and women serving in Iraq and the civilians whose lives are still being sacrificed.

Thanks to UWL for the image.

Coast to Coast Update: Rehearsal Week Number Two

I can't believe that we are one week on and one week away from our first show at my fourth Edinburgh Fringe Festival.

Jesus wept.

This final (ish) week of rehearsal has gone very well, as I type Coast to Coast is all but ready, all we need is an audience and that last burst of inspiration to take us over the edge to funny land...or summat like that...

*cough*

I love the creative process, making something from nothing in two weeks that'll end up entertaining thousands of people across the UK right through to 2008. This is why I signed up to be an actor in the first place. There is so much bluff involved, so much blag, its all about confidence in the material because if you don't believe in it than the audience certainly aren't going to.

It's funny that some weird idea about a talking bee, or why rabbits attack boats, or that Whitchurch is the place where incest was invented, can make the leap from my head into reality. But it has. Cool.

More regualr updates next week I promise as we approach the Edinburgh D-Day landings but you could help now by buying some tickets for our show in Scotland here and if you can't please pass on the link to someone who can.

Child Gate Blues

Rehearsing for Coast to Coast at Mark's house means navigating a whole raft of child gates located around the place to stop baby Billy tumbling down stairs (even though he is very good at holding my hand and sliding down them on his bum).

Got me thinking that I wish there was a massive child gate you could buy, to keep subhuman scum from bothering you. Not that I'm into gated communities, just that keeping people behind bars is a lot easier than having them killed.

Coast to Coast Update: Rehearsal Week Number One

The first week of rehearsal is nearly over and an eventful weeks it's been. I can't believe in two weeks time we'll be doing our first show at Edinburgh, the first of 26 consecutive performances!

I feel as if we are ahead of schedule, we've blocked and planned out every scene, ran it in rough form and even done a few stumble throughs. I'd hoped we'd be at this point but never imagined we'd be this far, although I don't know why, Mark and I always work well together.

Having said that, it's not been without concern, the two of us knocking the show together is tough and you get strangely fatigued, also we have so much content to cram into 60 minutes of showtime that we are struggling to find a compromise between exposition and material.

But we're getting there, I have no doubt it'll be a great play.

Mark and I are rehearsing at his home in Oldham on the outskirts of Manchester, which is a lovely environment to work in, especially as Mark and his wife-to-be Jess have a baby son called Billy (2 in August) who livens up rehearsals by coming to play with us.

Billy's presence around the house and getting to play with him certainly turns my mind to having kids myself, suppose I'll have to wait many years for that but hope I can have them with Eva-Jane; no doubt she'd be an amazing mum and a wonderful partner to share my life with. I love you baby.

Another update next week, until then comrades.

Coast to Coast: The Madness Begins!

The blog must now take a back seat as the full-on hardcore madness of Coast to Coast is soon to be underway! HURRAH!

On Monday I go up to Manchester to start rehearsals for two weeks (I'll update when I can on how that goes, if Mark lets me near his modem that is...) and then at the start of August up to Edinburgh for the Festival. If anyone is popping to Scotland at all during the month of August for the Festival lunacy, then please do pop along and show your support. However if you can't make it up, we are touring through 2007 and 2008 so hopefully ya'll get to see it.

Here is the trailer of the show for your viewing pleasure, look out for my ridiculous head twitch...



If you need anymore convincing (surely not) then here is the offical press release pitch of what Coast to Coast promises you, my dear, sweet reader...

Before their international tour (we’re going to Wales), Coast to Coast comes to the Underbelly for this years Edinburgh fringe festival.

2007 BBC Alfred Bradley prize winner Mark Whiteley collaborates with Daniel Hoffmann-Gill (whose only prize is his 25 metres swimming badge) to tell Coast to Coast, the amazing story of walking 216 miles across Great Britain.

Walking from Bangor in Wales (they had a lovely time) to Boston in Lincolnshire (inland port, not so lovely) with no money, no food and no where to sleep, their only currency was a 90 minute comedy/storytelling show and it had to be good otherwise they’d starve. They did not starve but they did come very close to dying in Cerrigydrudion (it was lambing season).

They met many fascinating people: John who spoke directly with God via an Etch-a-Sketch, street sleeper Danny who taught them how to forage for food in the skip behind Lidl and Weird Doug...who was just weird. Along the way they were attacked by insects, re-created a scene from The Clockwork Orange with a local journalist and learnt the joy of hotbagging.

Using story telling, stand-up comedy and video diary footage from their odyssey, we discover the funny, touching and sometimes scary truth about being at the mercy of the kindness of strangers. This innovative show will entertain, educate and hopefully encourage a little bit more adventure in the world.

The duo’s former work includes Thick as Thieves, the critically acclaimed comedy based on the pair’s youth offending past in crime-ridden Nottingham that toured nationally for four years.

What more could you wish for?

Great times at the moment, as not only am I involved in Coast to Coast but Eva-Jane is back from her holiday and I just finished filming a pilot for a new film news/review TV show.

I'll blog when I can from the belly of the Coast to Coast beast, love and respect to you all!

Letter to Michael

Hello,

What's going on brother? How are you?

I remember the baby names we used to run past each other, I was obsessed with Amy but I've been through a few since then, my son was always Michael but no one seems to like that name so I've taken it.

Since I last saw you a lot has changed, pretty much everything, I've got a lot better, I try not to judge no other and every day is about being better. Sometimes it's hard but what's life without struggle?

I'm still your big brother.

I'm still a United fan.

I still fuckin' hate Arsenal.

It was hard to back you but I did it, still do it, you'd be amazed how many people know who you are.

Wish you could bell me.

I'm on tele loads now, you'd piss your pants.

I still think about all the stuff we did...cool.

I've moved away but I'll never forget who I am. I promise.

All grown up now.

And I got this girl...

Lucky man.

See you soon brother.

I love you,

Great Almighty Gill

xxxx

Kids Spitting at a Train

I should've known something was up with these kids, they were experimenting with instant death skipping between moving tube train carriages, slamming the doors shut, effing and blinding making a racket above and beyond the train rattle.

The train stopped at Wood Green, instead of the terminus at Cockfosters and the two boys leaped off and gave the train driver some serious cheek before he pulled off and as the train eased out of the station the lads began gobbing at it, covering the side of it in a thin film of their spit.

I don't think I've seen a gesture in a long while that was so spiteful, futile and impotent.

They waited for the next train by slouching dangerously around the platform, dangling their legs in the way of the next train before hopping on.

I noticed that they were sharing a carriage with a large group of Orthodox Jews and I hoped that I wouldn't have to step in if the boys went for them. The little cowards only opened their mouths when the Jewish group was half way up the escalator, shouting out words that were as empty, meaningless and pathetic as the idea of spitting on a train.

Lucky Man (Month in the Summer)

I'm a lucky man Eva-Jane.

This time apart from you while you're on holiday has reminded me of how grateful I am for the gift of you, I love you my BabyJane and I you know what I'd do for you, how I feel about you and the ends of the earth I'd walk to for you and you alone.

Feel a bit lost without you, a bit aimless, you know? My partner is missing, so that only leaves the other half and what use is that without it's matching part?

If I may Miss Willis, I'd like to steal some lyrics to a song close to our hearts, especially at this time of the year; dedicated to you my angel...you get me?

"You're somebodies daughter and I'm somebodies son. Could be somebodies daddy and somebodies mum."

Love from my giant heart to yours, always, now and forever.

PS: Have I told you how beautiful you are?

Oh Mother, I Can Feel The Soil Falling Over My Head

"It's so easy to laugh, it's so easy to hate, it takes guts to be gentle and kind"

Wu-Tang Clan

I went to the Hammersmith Apollo last night and saw one of the most legendary and greatest hip-hop bands of all time, live, direct, in full effect and in the flesh; every single one of the bad boys (apart from the sadly departed Ol' Dirty Bastard).

I can't describe to you how utterly awesome it was to see the whole Clan on stage, playing tracks from their entire, lengthy discography and making London jump like crazy fools to their frenzied sounds. They managed to fuse tracks together, so the gig was like one intense medley of noise and power.

These guys are one of the founding fathers of modern hip-hop, one of the leading lights in pushing the genre forward and they've been sadly missed from a fairly redundent US hip-hop scene churning out artists with little artistry, skills and stories that are worth listening to.

I salute you Wu-Tang Clan, long may you bring the motherfuckin' ruckus!

My Mate Rob's Baby Boy

Congratulations Rob Booth!

Baby Ethan is a bloody star, proud of you mate.

Thought I'd give the little man his first bit of Internet fame, after all his pa is a weblord...

Free at Last, Alan Johnston is Free at Last!

Wonderful news broke today, BBC journalist Alan Johnston, after nearly 4 months in captivity, has been freed thanks to work by Hamas and no doubt made easier with the pressure applied by people across the world; especially the voices of concern coming from the Palestinian territories themselves.

What a relief and delight, it’s made my day to see the beaming face of Mr. Johnston as he celebrates his deserved and newfound freedom.

But who would’ve credited Hamas with being a key broker in the deal? They flexed both military and political muscle to free Alan Johnston and have laid down a marker that they are a genuine force for change in the Middle East.

I watch with interest…

Finnish Football Adverts

These are two commercials that are running over in Finland that I think are wicked, they are based on the premise that UK footy fans are mental, which indeed we are.

The only down side is that for the wedding one I had to pretend to be a Liverpool fan, which is nearly as bad as being an Arsenal fan. I fuckin' hate the Arse but not as much as I hate Leeds United and Man City.

The second one is all about West Ham, who I must confess I have a soft spot for due to the Paul Ince incident and them being a bit shit.

We shot them in Helsinki and it was bloody cold, -36 or summat daft, it was like living in a freezer, the snot in my nose froze and my eyes got all stiff due to the fluid freezing around the eye.

Good gig though...

These Are Some Serious Times...

After London there was Glasgow...

And the response has been sadly predictable, on both sides of the fence.

From the government and figures within the security industry there is more dangerous and unsettling talk of the need to cut back on civil liberties in order to combat terrorism, Blair calling those trying to voice concern at the UK governments infringements under the pretense of protecting us "loopy-loo" which is as silly as it is rudely dismissive.

I thought the whole point was that we didn't alter our way of life and laws to deal with the attacks, I thought that meant that they'd won? Instead of these attacks acting as prompts to question foreign policy and review the bigger picture of world politics, it seems to merely entrench our politicians further and the catch-all response is emitted: "if you've nothing to hide, you've nothing to fear."

I mentioned the typical response on both sides and a brief search through various left-leaning forums that are usually very politically astute finds the normal tin foil hat wearing nonsense being churned out, regarding it being a MOSSAD job, or an American false flag opp to increase support for the Iraq war in the UK.

The best (worst) ones though are those that argue that because it wasn't very successful or the bombs weren't good that we shouldn't get our knickers in a twist, which is similar to telling a diabetes sufferer to cheer up because they don't have cancer.

I'm glad the attempts on civilian life were pretty useless so far and that the bombs they made weren't very good but that doesn't stop me caring about why they are attacking us and getting politicians across the board to mark a sea change in our foreign policy but I think people are forgetting that we'd still get attacked anyway.

Appeasement is not the answer, a fair hand is but it must be a fair hand willing to form a fist and smash to pieces anyone who attacks us.

Like I said, serious times...

London Car Bomb, Paris Hilton Fatigue & Al Gore

I awoke this morning to find my honorary hometown of London was under attack once again, this time from a rather crude car bomb situated in one of the busiest parts of LDN full of nails, gas cylinders and some 60 litres of petrol.

By sheer luck, the car bomb was stumbled upon and dealt with before it could serve its nefarious purpose and as I type stories of further suspicious cars are circulating the news agencies. I’m sure that over the weekend further details and theories will arise but no doubt the succession of Prime Minister Brown has acted as a launch pad for an attempted ‘reminder attack’ that there are individuals bent on the murder of innocent civilians.

Light relief is offered by the newsreader who refused to participate in the Paris Hilton charade and attempted to destroy the story with fire after ripping it up into tiny pieces. I only wish that Mika Brzezinski had tried to eat the offending news item, like a spy devouring the truth saving cyanide pill; her statement that “I hate this story and I don’t think it should be the lead” has gone some way to restore my faith in American media.

And I’m not too sure whether the fact that if Al Gore ran for President he would attract some 32% of Democratic support is a good or a bad thing. There seems to be lacking on both sides a real heavyweight candidate, hence the lure of Mr Gore who in retirement has certainly expanded about the jowls and gut. My only worry is that without a strong Democratic candidate America could sleep walk into a further four years of a mediocre Rethug leadership. We shall see…

Here’s hoping the weekend brings no successful terrorist atrocities in London, more newsreaders refusing to read out rubbish stories and the US producing a bona fida Presidential candidate.

Sporadic Internet Access

There is something very wrong about the above image but I can't quite put my finger on it...

Internet is hard to come by at the moment, apologies about that, more videos of me in action should be up and coming soon and I am fully clothed in them and my hair is massive.

Thanks for all the positive feedback regarding the commercials, makes me feel less of a whore. Better shoot as only got 7 mins of Internet time left.

Be seeing you!

The Kohler Shower Commercial

I'm sure this is what many of you have always wanted, the chance to see me naked in a shower behaving like an idiot...

This is one version of an advert that is running across the United States and was a real blast to film, great crew and great company and got to hang put in Barcelona for a few days.

If anyone needs a translation for my ranting, please leave a comment.

Trent Bridge

Staring out across the great river, watching the ducks navigate something that my dad always told me was a great place to kill yourself, yet they made it look so safe.

“Hidden currents” he would say mysteriously “suck you under, even the strongest swimmers”. Dad couldn’t swim of course.

A place for us, with the water, the blue sky, the City Ground and Trent Bridge in the distance; with the Green Line buses streaming over it: the 6, the 7/7a and of course the number 10 to Ruddington. Looking down at the floor, at the old railings all rusty, the lucky houses that had a great view in exchange for the danger of serious flooding and your shoes. It was home wasn’t it?

I remember when I asked us to go back and pay a visit, we never got round to it, which is typical. Perhaps best we didn’t, only good things rest there.

I love Trent Bridge, I love the memories, even if sometimes they make me sad but I never want to go back there.

The Strongbow Commercial

Here I am then, as many of you requested, in full Strongbow advert effect.

Please note that coming up to me and going "ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" is not funny and never will be and no, I don't like cider. Worrying to note that on YouTube a whole bunch of asshats have made their own versions of the advert and posted them for all the world to see, below is a selection of some of the best ones. By best, I mean having your heart sucked out of your ears.

The Train Was Quite Busy...

The young man stormed through, it was clear that he didn't like it, how half-full the train was. As he despaired at the half-fullness of the train he began to punch the walls and flail his arms about whilst screaming.

His father looked weary, used to these out bursts no doubt, most people pretended not to notice the teenager with dark hair going ape-shit, smashing his fists red raw against the train carriage. Some people looked scared.

The young man turned to me and screamed:

"YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS!"

I looked at him and smiled, holding back the riposte: "Yeah, £18.70." Small victory rebutting a child with learning difficulties.

No one offered to give up their seat to alleviate his woe, including me, his father had to smother him to contain his rage, his tired face as his own son hit him will take some time to leave me.

The Horror of Gaza

Madness has seemingly descended upon the thin sliver of land bequeathed to the Palestinian people; that is little more than a ghetto for the 1.4 million or so residents.

The conditions in the Gaza Strip are bad enough; it is little more than a glorified refugee camp with poor infrastructure and high levels of child mortality and other far-reaching health implications. The last thing it needs is a senseless and brutal conflict between Palestine’s two political forces, which will frankly have massive consequences across the region.

After a terse and tense 3-month joint government between Fatah and Hamas, the status quo has collapsed into a bloodbath, with some 100 people dead already. The result is that once again Palestinian politics takes a step backwards, backwards to guns, violence and the creeping infringement of a fundamentalist Islamic government, close to the borders of Israel.

I have mixed feelings on the matter, on one hand I have respect for Hamas as a genuine political organisation that has the backing of large swathes of the Palestinian population; backing that stems in a frustration with the more gentle and therefore negated approach of Fatah (once again we are seeing a militarisation of the Islamic faith, caused by desperation with political isolation). On the other, I see behaviours and actions that will feed a Zionist and US response that will further damage the claims of the Palestinian people to a land of their own. They are playing directly into the hands of those that wish them the greatest harm.

I can only hope that in the aftermath, Palestinian diplomats come to the fore rather than the war mongers, who still believe the gun and the bomb will break their repression rather than engaging with the world politick to highlight and solve their woes.

Peace be with you all this weekend.

UK Media is a Feral Beast Don’t You Know?

Like a slow motion controlled demolition, as Tony Blair slowly collapses from power he keep shooting out plumes of verbal dust; this time his target is the British media who has kindly referred to as a ‘feral beast’.

I always saw the UK media as a two-faced, neutered, mutant cow with massive udders swollen with the milk of tedium. This feral beast that the Prime Minister refers to I only see when there is a witch-hunt over some minor celebrity, or a national fuss over a member of the Royal Family or perhaps whenever England loses at football. Paedophiles also seem to bring out the frothing, feral creature in the British press, that and Asylum Seekers…

Certainly, the drive for sales means that Blair is to some degree correct, truth and fact go out the window for a story that’ll sell papers or get people clued to the 24-hour news spam; apologies for inaccuracy are in small print next to the classified ads.

However, the content is mostly trivial, celebrity or titillation obsessed and all this feral activity is wasted in the endless search for mindless tat for us to get our knickers in a twist over. If only some of that vigour, aggressiveness and determination could be focused on issues that really matter: New Labour’s infringements into our civil liberties; the Middle East; the escalation of conflict with Iran; the debacles in Iraq and Afghanistan; child poverty in the UK; the list goes on.

A quick scan of the UK papers today brings back the endless recycling of the Madeleine McCann farce, immigration and a mum murdering her daughters. Only two newspapers run decent articles, on the deterioration of the situation in the Gaza Strip and the impact of a world without oil.

Where all this is leading of course is censorship, or as the politicians call it, regulation. This should be fought tooth and nail, as we already suffer with an unresponsive press that doesn’t hold our government to account for its actions; any external controlling body would only further restrict its ability to serve its purpose as a watchdog for the people.

For an Inner Satellite of Uranus

It must be hard work being an inner moon of Uranus, orbiting something that knows little of what love is, uses anger and violence to get what it wants, is cold and inhospitable and, aside from hating children and being a castrate, self-mythologizes laziness, misogyny and being ignorant.

I take that back, you are well matched.

Names usually have little relation to the person who owns the title but I can’t help but be reminded of the woman who pledged everlasting eternal love to Trolius before running off with Diomedes. Or in your case, Diomedes, Adeipho, Adelphos, Adrastos, Agatone, Alcander, Altair, Ambrose, Anatol…the list goes on.

Female inconstancy, changing without discernible pattern or reason; fickle and faithless. Has a ring to it doesn’t it?

You are well matched indeed.

I await the car crash when the abusive, violent Uranus is unable to control his base instincts by either lashing out in contemptible fashion or sticking his stub into something else. If there weren’t a child involved I’d say it was a fitting end for the pair of you.

And you call this love?

My Mistakes

My mistakes are made by me

Your mistakes are made by you

Whatever you do, you gotta' make it through

Whatever you say, you gotta' mean it too

And don't bother saying it if it ain't true

You can't learn from one mistake

You'll make two then three, you won't stop

And you think your future looks bright but it's not

You've lost it, might as well stop stop stop

Are you gonna' learn from your mistakes?

Or are you gonna' stay dumb?

Fred Thompson Looks Like Kelsey Grammer (Gipper Redux)

Very likely GOP Presidential candidate Fred Thompson is merely Frasier star Kelsey Grammer in heavy make-up...

But with some serious right-wing credentials and of course, the kind of persona that goes down very well with many voters across the US. Even though he hasn't declared that he's in the race yet, polls already have him as a comfortable third, possibly second, behind the grief whore that is Giuliani. So will the Rethugs go for Reagan-lite? Only time will tell.

I still think he looks like an elderly Kelsey Grammer though...

View From London's City Hall

Had the pleasure of doing a workshop for Stonewall yesterday, the gay, lesbian and bi-sexual lobbying group and the event took place on the roof of London's City Hall.

Took the oppotunity to take a few snaps of the stunning views across the city, made me feel very grateful to call London my home town and be part of one of the greatest cities in the world; maybe even better than New York as the sun came streaming down.

Very Public Displays of Affectation

(I'm not hotlinking by the way, I'd never commit such a sin but just love the image and the phrase underneath, kinda' seems appropriate)

It's easy to get suckered in, easy to be dragged down into posturing, empty, brutal bullshit. Can't believe it's taken me this long to see it.

How sad to use affection as a weapon, exchanging images and displays of love like strutting peacocks firing fecal pellets in a phoney war: "I'm more in love than you!" - the avian plop piles through the internet air - "NO! I'm more loved up than you are!" - winged ass beads are returned in rapid fire, a vulgar display of nothingness.

Parading love and affection like it's a toy, how can it be true and precious when it's used as a means of one-upmanship? There's celebration and then there is masturbation but it seems to me that you're wanking off a fake cock.

You get me?

As Bob Dylan said when he heard the cry of Judas:

"I don't believe you..."

I AM THE GOD OF WAR!

No seriously, I am and if you don't believe me I'll get out my fuckin' huge blades and mash you up.

Do you like my new beard and eye make-up?

Hair of God

I was teaching physical theatre yesterday in a lovely school in the London Borough of Havering, with a group of talented and gifted 14-15 year olds.

As the session drew to a close a particularly talented lad stepped forward and said:

“Can I touch your hair please? It’s amazing.”

Not quite sure what to say and taken by surprise but sensing the lad wasn’t taking the p*ss, I agreed to the request.

He touched my massive wig and beamed with joy: “That’s made my day, I’ve touched the hair of God!” and ambled off, waving to me as I gathered my stuff to go home.

You gotta’ love the kids.

Nana

Fucking hell.

Nana is losing her mind, her warden left a voicemail:

"She keeps putting her bra on over her jumper"

Is this how we have to go out? Who we are slipping away out of our heads, forgetting the basics but remembering the war; full of stories but no life?

The worse bit is she knows what she's losing and it induces a blind panic as she rages against the light.

Love you, miss you, hope peace finds its way into your heart.