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On Mothers…

Mothers: My mother never reads my weblog. I think maybe she did once, and then decided that she didn’t want to hear about what happened in my life after all. And then stopped. I don’t know if that’s true or not to be honest. It just seems likely to me. My brother does read my weblog either. I think maybe he’s scared to.

Mark‘s mother reads his weblog, and more than that, she reads mine as well. And Katy’s. When Katy and I met her when Mark was in town, she said how good she thought weblogs were, and how happy she was that Mark had an outlet for his thoughts, where he could write and get responses from it. I remember thinking at the time what a cool attitude that was, and how she obviously completely knew what she was doing.

Megnut‘s mother goes one better. Meg’s got her to write her weblog for a while. I can’t help thinking that that suggests a really really good relationship – when the mother takes such an active interest in the passions of her children. I kind of think my mother and I have called a truce on this kind of stuff. I think we’ve figured out between us that there are just some (many?) things that she just doesn’t want to know or talk about. So we don’t.

I don’t know what that says about our relationship.

Categories
Politics

Mr Massow's fun new haircut…

Mr Massow was on television this morning again, with his rather alarming new haircut. The irony is, he’s never looked more right wing. My interest in him is long founded and based around the four major features of his life – 1) His apparently strong political beliefs (Tory until proven otherwise). 2) His presence as a prominent figure in the London gay community. 3) His financial success marketing to gay people. 4) His charm, charisma and the fact that he’s pretty good looking.

There’s something really alarming about this set of characteristics that seems to inspire bizarre reactions in people. His politics seems to play up the bastard angle. Several of my devoutly leftist friends seem to find this a tremendous turn-on when combined with what appears to be his affable charm. Personally, he was the first person to bring me to the stage where I had to confess to be a nontorysexual – by which I mean that I find someone’s right wing tendencies to be a more substantial turn-off than pretty much anything else.

In the gay community, he is simultaneously villified and adored – poster boy for a generation of guppies (gay &amp upwardly mobile – very eighties) while simultaneously seen to have made his fortune off the back of the very kinds of intolerance that keeps other gay people in a position of vulnerability. And now he’s turned towards Labour – how do we all feel about that? Honestly – I don’t really know.

The most interesting thing about the interview today was how politically simplistic he appeared to be. He basically contrasted the Labour and Conservative parties on the two staple axes that they have been for years. The stereotype is: Labour are good on social justice, but weak on the economy. The Conservatives can run the economy, but they’re for a more survival of the fittest, Middle England Anti-Immigration ethos. Ivan put his priorities very firmly down on the side of the economic priority versus social justice, and stated that he felt that the management of the economy under Labour had clearly changed and now he was left between a party that was good on the economy and social justice, and one that heavily prioritised the former. He didn’t appear to think there was any other choice to make.

But what about the other issues? The Euro for example? And fox-hunting? The Labour Party has objectives here which are very much against Massow’s own. How does he reconcile them? I’m not sure he knows… Whether this makes him self-serving or honest is another question altogether…

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Random

A weekend with the family…

My mother and little brother arrived in London yesterday. They are staying with me in my flat for a few days while Kate and Mella are out of town. I have to say that part of me was extremely worried about their arrival – I assumed that we’d find it difficult actually “living” together, even for a couple of days. But things have actually been going really well.

Yesterday they arrived about one, and we went out straight away for lunch. My brother is now 5’8″, which I find terrifying since he is only 14. Only two inches shorter than me. I’m not sure I like that. Afterwards we wandered into the centre of town, and went to Selfridges, Gap and various other clothes shops where my mother desperately attempted to buy me shirts, without much luck (I find it hard to find something I like when pressed). Then we wandered over to Leicester Square and saw The Whole Nine Yards. Which was, I am afraid to say, poor. A quick bite to eat later and I’m up on the net most of the night, while my family collapse in bed asleep.

Today has been similarly busy, albeit in a slightly more cultural way (although my attempts to foster my brother’s interests in modern art have failed dismally). We all went to the Tate Modern, and managed to work our way through about a third of the building before collapsing under the strain. I managed not to spend to much money in the bookshop either, which has to be a first. We’re now mooching around the flat and trying to work out where to eat this evening. It’s all very civilised…

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Random

Mighty Campaigning Organ…

The Onion is right on the mark again – this time let the chocolate giants feel the wrath of this mighty campaigning organ:

“The five-state class-action suit accused Hershey’s of “knowingly and willfully marketing rich, fatty candy bars containing chocolate and other ingredients of negligible nutritional value.” The company was also charged with publishing nutritional information only under pressure from the government, marketing products to children, and artificially “spiking” their products with such substances as peanuts, crisped rice, and caramel to increase consumer appeal.”

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Random

More Mister Massow?

Ivan Update:

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Random

The results of the poll…

You’re a sensible lot, and were quite correct. The results of the poll are in, and the picture of the child with the fox is indeed Nick, a screenwriter.

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Random

Things are heating up in the Big Brother house…

Things are apparently heating up in the Big Brother house – at least if you believe the BBC. They, along with many of the other British papers, are printing pictures of Melanie and Andy apparently engaged in the beginnings of a kiss. Unfortunately, at this stage, I just don’t believe it. Look at the picture again – she has her hand on her head in a defensive move, and her expression is very much less ecstatic than it might be.

That doesn’t mean, of course, that she’s not going to miss him. Nor does it mean that she won’t leave if he does. What it does mean is that the press and Channel Four are so desperate for someone to hook up in the house that they will jump on what may be the vaguest stirrings of mutual affection (we all know that Andrew is quite taken with Mel) and blow it out of all proportion.

I can’t actually believe I’m investing so much time on this series. But I will be home this evening to see who get’s thrown out…

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Random

In which Tom gets his haircut…

“Tom goes to get his haircut” (or “Plumbing the Depths of Personal Content on the Web”)

In the UK, we get quite a few American TV shows. These shows are on a little after they are on in America depending on who has bought them. Sometimes it’s as little as a couple of weeks, sometimes it can be as much as years. Like I say, it depends on who has bought them. Last night, Ally McBeal was on (long standing readers may remember my forceful hatred for Ally herself, and my concerns that the series is nothing but 50s reactionary thinking repackaged, much like Bob Roberts, the “rebel conservative”). The episode in question was the one in which it is revealed that Georgia has been meeting Ally’s father in a bar, and that they have, in fact recently kissed. Like I say, we’re a little behind the US.

So I’m watching this TV program, thinking how it doesn’t appear to be as reactionary as usual – that in fact, Billy’s “rebel conservative” / “new man in town” act seems to be being used to show Georgia in a good light – as a strong, intelligent career woman who isn’t prepared to settle for accepting that her role is to put other people’s needs before her own. Billy has, of course, by this point, had his hair dyed blonde, and spends at least a third of his time leering like some kind of weird Aryan frat boy at every piece of skirt that wanders by.

My flatmate’s and I are engaged in the weekly game of shouting, “You pathetic woman! Get a spine!” at McBitch herself, along with “Eat some pies, goddammit woman!”, “All she ever does is whine!” and “I bet she listens to the Lighthouse family. I bet she used to listen to Mariah Carey, but now thinks she’s a bit lame and is a bit embarrassed, and instead listens to the bloody Lighthouse Family…” In the background, Billy just wanders around, silly hair-dye glowing in the night. We think he’s too pathetic to even comment upon.

A day passes. I sleep fitfully and get up to go to work. I have to be in early this morning – I have lots of work to do. After an early meeting (mooching around in my A&F t-shirt, and trying to get some pages mocked-up, I think to myself, “I really need a haircut”, so I head off to ‘fish’ in Soho, which is where I always go. I’m sitting down in the chair while this bloke starts hacking into my hair and then suddenly I decide to say: “Ha! Every time I come in hear, I always mean to talk to someone about getting my hair more exciting!” The guy carries on, and then replies, “You want to have a bit of colour in it? Something that makes it look like you’ve been in the sun? Go a bit lighter?”.

Suddenly, I’m thinking about how crap and old and pointless I’ve been feeling recently, and how frustrated I have been with my job, and how much I need to get away and have a change. So, with a nervous grin, I agree, and he sets to work with what appears to be a little bowl of paste and a trowel. I sit there quietly staring at the little goo-capped peaks on my head for twenty minutes – to let the colour seep through – and then I am rinsed, blow-dried, a large block of money is removed from my bank account, and I am set loose once more on the streets of London.

As I’m passing a window I notice my reflection. Light strands of hair glint in the sunlight, and suddenly I’m looking at Billy from Ally McBeal once more. Only this time, he’s just older, faintly ridiculous, bored with his life and eager for change. And with a snigger in my voice and a spring in my step, I look at myself and say: “There’s a new man in town.”

[Tomorrow – a photograph of the new ‘do’]

Categories
Random

On intoxicating viewing and Big Brother UK…

I haven’t talked much about Big Brother UK to date, although it is intoxicating viewing. In the meantime, while I make up my mind, the BBC has an archive of all their articles on the show.

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Random

On Exposing Genitals to Webcams…

I don’t get it. Does anyone really want to see Ben Brown’s Dick? This is clearly where I’ve been going wrong all these years – I don’t expose my genitals to webcams. I’m doomed to a life of mediocrity.