tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-80916622012-01-29T12:47:21.714ZBlogging a dead horsecriticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.comBlogger2751100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-15807416889359445412012-01-27T10:50:00.000Z2012-01-27T16:33:28.269Z

Everyone's a critic. This has been true for a long time. Probably the phrase originates, like everything else, with the Ancient Greeks; Sophocles or Euripides cursing on their way home after yet another bad night at the Dionysus Odeon. Certainly it stretches back a long way. But it has never been more true (if a true thing can become more true, I don't know, but assuming it can) than these days,

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-53595903905444321092011-08-25T12:34:00.002+01:002011-08-25T12:48:14.634+01:00

Vladimir: We'll hang ourselves tomorrow. Unless Arsene buys. Estragon: And if he buys? Vladimir: We'll be saved. Estragon: We might try him with other names. Vladimir: I'm afraid he's dying. Estragon: It'd be amusing. Vladimir: What'd be amusing? Estragon: To try him with other names, one after the other. It'd pass the time. And we'd be bound to hit on the right one sooner or later.

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-81952651435106238682011-05-06T11:11:00.002+01:002011-05-11T11:54:20.953+01:00

Newspapers are abuzz today with news of a happiness gene, as researchers at LSE have found that people with two long versions of the gene 5-HTT were 17.3% more likely to say they were "very satisfied" with their life compared to those who had two short versions. People with one long version of the gene were 8.5% more likely to be "very satisfied". As a person who probably has two dwarf versions

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-44327042579640677632011-03-08T12:12:00.000Z2011-03-08T12:12:31.983Z

Writing is a hard slog. I might write I don't know 14 words at a time before I need to get up, make a cup of tea, check the internet is still there, scratch my balls, maybe write five or six more words, check the internet is still still there, go and look at myself in the bathroom for a while, get a glass of water and a sandwich, then read the 20 words I've written for a bit and then go out,

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-47059835500818464312011-02-01T14:01:00.003Z2011-02-02T12:04:17.667Z

Back when I were a lad, in yon misty days of 1986, on, as I remember it, a dreary summer holiday somewhere in Dorset with my mum and dad and little sister, there were sitcom on t'telly called Wilderness Road. I didn't remember the title, I only found it out after trawling through the names of 1980s sitcoms looking for possible matches, during a very dull day at work. Written by Bob Goody, who

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-48054347275915397202011-01-26T12:00:00.000Z2011-01-26T12:00:12.475Z

I noticed the other day that I had subconsciously restricted myself to only watching telly after 7pm, the way that some alcoholics control their drinking by only drinking after a certain time. Is watching the telly like an addiction? You start out only doing it for fun, watching only good programmes, enjoyably, but before you know it you've got hooked on the transport from dingy reality, and

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-52628155531145922212011-01-25T12:16:00.000Z2011-01-25T12:16:36.640Z

When I was a kid I quite fancied being a football commentator. Like most idle fantasies of my childhood, I have no idea what the hell I was thinking, but my guess is that it was a way of being involved in the game long after it had become obvious I was never going to play the game. A those who can, do, those who can't, commentate, sort of thing. I at least never wanted to be a referee, which

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-47895578645111366002011-01-20T10:38:00.001Z2011-01-20T12:30:12.842Z

One of the worst things about having a failing short-term memory is that I struggle to remember my dreams. Short-term memory is a bitch like that, you wake up and you have a presumably slightly longer-term memory that you have something in your short-term memory to look up, but you go there and the pail is completely empty, and no amount of scouring the factory floor will turn up its lost

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-15436502210593901352011-01-20T01:48:00.003Z2011-01-20T02:03:23.639Z

It's a nice little idea, in an upstairs room of a pub, five people get up and each get 10 minutes to tell a true story to a bunch of strangers. Anyone can have a go, although the storytellers are all vetted by the organisers beforehand, and the monthly event in Chapel Market is already so popular you have to apply for your free ticket weeks in advance. Created by David Hepworth (who launched such

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-29600306526456057972011-01-18T00:40:00.001Z2011-01-18T13:38:15.829Z

The great thing about tumblr blogs is that you can have millions of them, for every tiny little pocket of your existence that you want to reveal, in its own completely sterile blog environment. And so it is that I present a new blog of mine where I will be posting my long-awaited photomeisterwerk 42 Views of the Gherkin, which I have been doing for so long it is practically my life's work. The

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-70189752202567423232011-01-13T11:22:00.001Z2011-01-13T11:23:22.861Z

Zen is a police drama set in Rome, starring Rufus Sewell as a suave police inspector, famous for his integrity. We know this because everyone he meets says "ah! you are famous for your integrity!" Based on the best-known of British crime writer Michael Dibdin's books, the show has two main gimmicks. The first is that Zen is the honest cop's name ‒ Aurelio Zen, in fact, and though you might think

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-34986640189866128122011-01-12T12:46:00.001Z2011-01-12T12:46:51.106Z

A blog that does what it says on the tin. APILN provides a fairly constant stream of photos snipped from local rags around the country (and increasingly from Australia) where the subject seems to have been asked by the photographer to grimace in such a way that their tragic tale is told across their brows. Because a picture tells a thousand stories and all that. And not always the story that was

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-81981494317888034512011-01-10T17:36:00.001Z2011-01-10T17:38:14.978Z

For my first post of the new year and also, I notice, my 300th post at all, I've had an idea which should revolutionise medicine, disease and general doctoring stuff. OK you may have guessed that I haven't fully researched the field, but still I reckon I'm on to a cast-iron gold-standard silver-plated FA cup of an idea. The sort of idea that immortalised the greats like Mendel (of the Royal

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-80493604263212760892010-12-20T12:09:00.002Z2010-12-20T14:57:32.989Z

"Ireland stands as a shining example of the art of the possible in long-term economic policymaking."George Osborne, 2006      (via)

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-86836392192204908652010-12-12T15:37:00.001Z2010-12-16T21:32:19.609Z

You see how at the moment before death, your whole life flashes before your eyes? How long do you think that takes? You've got to imagine that every tiny memory, every single one, even or especially those that have for years meandered deep below the conscious surface, is suddenly replayed in glorious technicolour for one last hurrah. No doubt it's very helpful in getting closure, and is probably

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-16403572408131731842010-12-10T13:05:00.004Z2010-12-12T15:57:11.760Z

Good account of the student protests yesterday, which mainly tallies with what I saw when I visited the march as it was still filing into Parliament Square at about 2pm, even down to the sarky cop-philosophy "debate", one of which I had to enjoy as well. The police contained a large and growing crowd in one road at the north of the square and refused to let me into the actual square because I was

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-90552233409954145022010-11-17T11:05:00.009Z2010-11-17T13:42:31.527Z

I've got a dictionary of foreign terms sitting in my toilet. It's a book with a list list of foreign terms which we (actually a very small subset of we, but never mind) use in English. Phrases like Dieu et mon Droit, which sometimes appears on the side of £1 coins; or quid pro quo, which doesn't and maybe should, but is Latin for something in return - by which I mean "something in return" not "[

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-34676208185833598352010-11-15T10:22:00.009Z2010-11-15T11:10:03.708Z

Any of you wondering how to feel about the unanaesthetised surgery being performed on the British welfare state and public sector have only to read this, Nothing To Do With The Economy, Ross McKibbin in the LRB.Much of the government’s budget strategy is dependent on consequences which might be favourable, on premises which are almost certainly wrong, on sheer fantasy, and on that will-o’-

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-86306051125375488392010-11-14T12:39:00.006Z2010-11-15T12:41:35.812Z

It's down to the cheap seats for me right now. Instead of sauntering around Waitrose, my wallet flush with easy Fleet Street cash, I'm reduced to shuffling around Lidl with a few individually counted pennies jangling in cavernous pockets. But that's ok! (for now) because shopping in Lidl is that rare pleasure, the pleasure of the cheap. It doesn't matter that the aisles are so short of breadth

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-11857960636901317002010-11-01T12:43:00.003Z2010-11-15T12:58:42.199Z

As if to prove that I am wasted in this job unemployment, as I asked the question about quantitatitatitative easing, my old chums at Prospect were preparing a long winded answer: Faisal Islam on The Great Money Mystery. It turns out that even though my basic question was, well, quite basic, other questions, vaguely similar to mine, were relatively sensible.“It was one of the many measures to get

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-9614336143739777902010-10-20T10:50:00.007+01:002010-11-22T21:56:42.325Z

Some of you may have heard of quantitative easing, which is apparently a euphemism for printing money, where the government gets down the value of money (and hence its debts) and inflates the economy by printing more cash and then dishing it out, so there's more to go around. Which is fine and all, economics primer stuff by all accounts, but how do they get the extra money into the economy?

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-46692206489772148912010-10-12T17:05:00.001+01:002010-10-13T01:18:36.502+01:00

According to wikipedia, the famous theatre teacher Jacques Lecoq teamed up with Jean Marie Conty.Later on they went to Italy to work with Dario "Mo" Fo.Also worth a mention is where, under a list of his former students, it includes "Steven Berkoff, theatre director, genius".

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-51148075836419545592010-10-04T12:11:00.012+01:002010-10-04T23:45:57.209+01:00

"I took acid with the Queen in 1963"Transcript of conversation with Dr John MehmartIn the early sixties I had a job as a research psychologist in Cambridge testing out LSD on students, trying to find out if we could use it to treat depression or alcoholism. It was an exciting time, because everyone involved could see straightaway that here was a treatment with absolutely stupendous potential, and

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-86534037387050790802010-09-28T10:44:00.000+01:002010-09-28T10:52:00.843+01:00

I met a guy from Sydney who was born one day after me. What time were you born? I asked him. 5.45 in the morning, he said. I was stunned. I didn't even need to go and check the time difference on google. I realised what that meant. You weren't born on the day after me, I told him. We were born on the same day! At the same time! Ah, no we weren't mate, it says on my birth certificate, he said

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-21577203140478070012010-09-21T22:30:00.011+01:002010-09-21T23:11:53.004+01:00

It was when I was in Scotland that I first noticed the chequered shirt. I think it was Jim Jeffries wearing one on his poster that started me off, but once I started noticing them I saw them everywhere, like conspiracy theories. For some reason I couldn't get my head around it - what were people trying to say about themselves when they put on a chequered shirt? I even took to drunkenly asking

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-1923313168075201132010-09-20T14:58:00.005+01:002010-09-20T15:18:03.596+01:00

I phoned up the AA today and the automated system did that thing where they pretend to answer the phone and the call starts costing money, and then it starts ringing again. Then another, presumably more senior, computer answered, put me on hold and told me I was in a "high-priority queue". Brilliant! What more could I want, than to be on high priority hold? What do they tell the people in the

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-11049441727394133372010-09-08T15:41:00.012+01:002010-09-09T00:17:22.609+01:00

While I was in Scotland someone told me about this ad they used to have up there where a lad practices his chat-up routine before he goes out on a Saturday night. He fancies this one girl, Sarah, and he tries out what he's going to say, tests out various lines, until finally, washed and brushed up, he hits upon his tack, a smooth, sophisticated, gentle, friendly tactic: "Sarah, you know I really

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-33668891980878827922010-09-07T11:39:00.019+01:002010-09-08T14:02:34.326+01:00

Cos 7,500 words on the matter wasn't enough, here is my Edinburgh roundup, filled with awards and prizes and also hot tips for people who might go to Edinburgh some day.At the FringeWinner of best thing I saw award: Ovid's Metamorphoses. By a country mile. See it at the Croydon Warehouse, and it must be good if I'm telling you to go to Croydon.Winner of best performer I saw award: Scottee.Winner

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-46556888816148578802010-09-06T09:12:00.006+01:002011-06-14T12:58:33.947+01:00

Edinburgh sunrise On my last Sunday I was invited to an open mic in the garden at the Pear Tree, where I got up to try out my stand-up routine, such as it is. Having been rehearsing it during my many drunken walks home late at night, it was mostly fresh in the memory, and I mostly pulled it off. The crew I was drinking with loved it, as did one Cammy Sinclair in the crowd, who straightaway got

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-16610163210622973632010-09-05T14:15:00.000+01:002010-09-06T14:25:35.612+01:00

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-41336910725103549282010-09-03T14:12:00.014+01:002010-09-06T09:54:36.895+01:00

Read part one hereThe next night I was inveigled to come along to see Camille O’Sullivan, and I stumped up £18 for a ticket on the grounds that with so many good reviews she must have something. Famous for her interpretations of songs by Nick Cave, Jacques Brel and Tom Waits, her posters featured a six-star review from Time Out, plus a heap of five star reviews from other worthy publications;

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-41733787942563056122010-09-03T11:23:00.005+01:002010-09-03T12:14:15.069+01:00

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-38083504392767182232010-09-02T14:07:00.032+01:002010-09-18T19:41:53.984+01:00

I went to the Edinburgh festival because I was offered a job playing accordion for a singer in her cabaret show. The band consisted of me, Sandy the bassist, who got me the job, and her boyfriend Luke, who played the drums. The singer, Gus, turned out to be the daughter of cabaret-comic Kit Hesketh-Harvey, of Kit and the Widow fame, and we spent a few days at their rather pleasant abode in

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-28208096466588547932010-08-07T22:12:00.001+01:002010-08-07T22:12:00.136+01:00

I was recently in Norfolk and I spent some time ambling along the public footpaths, across fields, over rivers, and across more fields mainly, it being Norfolk, and also singing a lot to myself, and it occurred to me that it might be possible to take a backpack and amble across the country, singing to myself and I might enjoy it, if only I had enough money to get things to eat and places to sleep

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-166443563502428652010-08-06T15:35:00.001+01:002010-08-06T15:56:30.175+01:00

Slightly old, but still worth reading: Iain Sinclair's epic on the Olympic-sized scam crashing through east London. A stewpot of history, politics, reportage, comment and weary anger, if there is such a thing.The Millennium Dome fiasco was a low-rent rehearsal. The holy grail for blue-sky thinkers was the sport-transcends-politics Olympiad, the five-hooped golden handcuffs, the smoke rings

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-73068061421481491202010-08-05T21:22:00.004+01:002010-08-05T21:29:15.931+01:00

Some charity or other organised a football match on Wormwood Scrubs between QPR FC and a Feltham Prison XI, most of whom turned up looking as if they'd been living on cigarette papers their whole lives. It wasn't a great spectacle, but the pros outweighed the cons.

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-69120226526168377592010-08-02T19:45:00.008+01:002010-08-06T15:55:54.312+01:00

Fucking house prices.House prices are supposed to be falling soon, by 20% some have said, although some disagree, and some said this some time ago. So nobody knows, but the likelihood is that nothing is going to be done about the insane price of houses, especially in London. Most newspaper articles herald a fall in house prices with much the same foreboding they might mention the sighting of four

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-88215481940782226222010-07-21T23:55:00.014+01:002010-07-28T12:00:40.588+01:00

The Stag's Head lies in the backstreets at the border of Hoxton and De Beauvoir Town, in about as unprepossessing a location as you can imagine. It nestles between the sprawling council estates and derelict-looking industrial units, and looks from the outside like the sort of pub you go into to get shot if you happen to have annoyed the local villains. It's on the corner of two of the quietest

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-16515426614310751312010-07-20T12:14:00.010+01:002010-07-20T22:18:24.962+01:00

What happens at the accidental meeting of inkblots, photocopies, cardboard, angle-poise lamps, video technology, a laptop and a banana box?So I was at this party in a garden the other night when suddenly a woman asked everyone to shush and we all shushed and she turned on the projector and it projected onto a sheet on the garden wall, and then there were these two people and they waved hand-drawn

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-4781932112991541662010-07-19T21:34:00.008+01:002010-07-19T22:00:50.201+01:00

If any of you doubted the veracity of my Rosewater Ketamine account, or if any of you have ever read that far back, well doubt no longer, only nowadays it appears they import ketamine in bottles of Aloe Vera juice.Ooops! Fuckin' Royal Mail!Love the TV report. First the shopkeeper, saying "oh well it arrived here one day by accident so I just put it up for sale. What was I supposed to do? Send it

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-35478093483596559692010-07-15T08:35:00.003+01:002010-07-16T10:31:35.940+01:00

Put a portion of your writing into this writing analyser and it'll tell you which famous writer you write like.Me? Based on the last few blog posts: Stephen King, Stephen King, Kurt Vonnegut, Arthur Conan Doyle (really?), Dan Brown.I think I'll stop there. It was going so well.Via (obv), where they deconstruct it until it begs for mercy.PS. I put my most favourite recent blog post in and got

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-24353442979952470792010-07-14T14:49:00.016+01:002010-07-14T18:31:28.615+01:00

Jonathan Wilson PhD (Football Studies) will see you now.Jonathan Wilson can explain football tactics. I don't mean talk about football tactics - lobbing 4-4-2s, 4-3-3s and 4-3-XR3is about the place like so many Rory Delap throws, provoking mayhem in the area (of your footballing brain) - Jonathan Wilson doesn't talk about tactics the way that most people do, ie. knowing precisely fuck all,

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-55113507844606865382010-07-13T22:48:00.008+01:002010-07-13T23:34:39.409+01:00

I should also add that it’s very difficult to satirize the Jewish world, because just when you think you’ve made something preposterous, you pick up the newspaper and see that events have actually out-satirized what you’ve just done. So it’s always a race with reality. I’m more of a stenographer than a satirist in that regard.Eli Valley draws comic strips. Comic strips with a Jewish flavour.

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-62233483584764325272010-07-12T21:55:00.009+01:002010-07-14T11:25:04.686+01:00

I only realised the other day that the Amazonians were not from the Amazon at all, but Anatolia (that's Turkey to you). Plutarch tells us - well, he tells the guy who wrote the wikipedia article - that Athens and Chalcis (no me neither) both had an Amazoneum, a sort of shrine to the semi-mythical female warriors. Greek battles with the Amazons were known as Amazonomachy, which is a great name for

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-72040326409867411662010-07-11T22:06:00.001+01:002010-07-12T21:54:03.127+01:00

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-91609115291312184242010-07-09T20:30:00.004+01:002010-07-13T11:54:14.393+01:00

It's hot. Damn it's hot. Apparently, when it's hot, you're supposed to do things like drink hot tea and eat jalapenos, because they activate the body's cooling mechanism. Which makes you wonder why the body's cooling mechanism can't just get activated by, I don't know, it being hot. Which it is. Damn hot. Pan-frying hot. Hot like two radiators in sandpaper suits making love in a sauna. In the

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-55998935849292670292010-07-02T18:38:00.000+01:002010-07-13T11:42:29.588+01:00

the clever speedheads, they called their ramblings Whizzdom

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-59073659576277775932010-07-01T11:56:00.011+01:002010-07-14T21:46:49.480+01:00

DrugsDrugs are as illegal at Glastonbury as anywhere else. If you buy, sell or use drugs you are likely to be arrested and ejected from the festival. Glastonbury is not a good place to take drugs and certainly not a place to start. Do not buy drugs at Glastonbury, they may have been mixed with other, more dangerous substances. Taking drugs could have harmful or even fatal results. Reassure anyone

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-18596032252583868962010-06-06T13:52:00.010+01:002010-06-06T15:29:46.867+01:00

The Telegraph has an amusing story about the novelist E.M Forester, which says that he gave up writing novels after his first homosexual experience, at the age of 38. After suppressing his sexuality as a young man, Forster, who was known to his friends as Morgan, lost his virginity to a wounded soldier in 1917 while working for the Red Cross in Egypt. That sexual awakening in his late

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-37736461302722624182010-06-05T12:23:00.003+01:002010-06-05T12:28:03.042+01:00

Brian Duffy, one of the 'Terrible Trio' photographers of the 1960s, has died aged 76. Duffy, along with fellow working-class London boys David Bailey and Terence Donovan, revolutionised fashion photography with a brash, sexual, personal style and helped to define the Swinging Sixties.Duffy went on to photograph the great and the good and the not-so-good, but his best-known shot was probably the

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-58663405290778641812010-06-05T02:25:00.003+01:002010-06-05T02:27:53.440+01:00

Meet the man who sold his 10% share in Apple for $800. (via)

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-61642472363245117632010-06-03T18:10:00.013+01:002010-06-04T00:21:52.492+01:00

The terrible scenes in Cumbria, which I'm not going to make some tasteless jokes about, I don't know what sort of fuck you think I am but I am much more responsible than that, also I can't think of any, anyway, there were terrible scenes in Cumbria, where a deranged 52-year-old man went on a grudge-fuelled shooting spree, killing 12, including his twin brother, before killing himself. The nation

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-18107242847369990952010-05-28T11:48:00.001+01:002010-05-28T20:26:18.227+01:00

The man on the train to Hackney wears a cheap duffel coat, red chequered shirt and blue jeans. He slouches in his seat, slumping across the gangway to the seats opposite. His slouch occupies a lot of space. One hand fiddles with a tatty canvas bag on the seat beside him while the other flicks through his phone. He calls someone. His African-accented voice sounds slow, tired. He moves his other

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-38629727202035230242010-05-26T20:42:00.003+01:002010-05-26T20:58:04.249+01:00

Lindy West on Sex and the City 2 (via)

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-41817220049068036622010-05-26T18:36:00.004+01:002010-05-26T18:41:21.425+01:00

Is the road to heaven paved with bad intentions?

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-54242860076932746302010-05-25T23:25:00.009+01:002010-07-13T11:52:42.212+01:00

Gwarizm has the script of an unfilmed scene from Kids, the Harmony Korine kiddyshokafilthting from wayback in the 1990s when luminous clothing was for oh fuck knows, I can't even remember that far back. Anyway the scene is worth a read, and probably would have improved the film, which I do remember enjoying, at least for the perving over Chloë Sevigny. I actually met Harmony Korine once, very

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-15270229383077589292010-05-24T12:11:00.008+01:002010-06-04T00:10:20.511+01:00

Metafilter - it's a geeky web2.0 sort of thing, news, politics, computers, bitching, that sort of thing oh and saving trafficked women from meeting a grisly not-quite-doom-but-quite-doom-enough fate in a Brooklyn Russian mafia strip-joint. The call goes out over the Meta airwaves, but can the geeks and dweebs muster up the muscle to defeat their Russian foes? Can they persuade the girls that they

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-45756772188159093422010-05-18T12:50:00.004+01:002010-05-18T13:36:46.773+01:00

It's a bicycle time trial between two points in London (or any city, I suppose);There is a time penalty each time a cyclist passes a set of traffic lights.The idea is to encourage cyclists to take a route using as few main roads as possible. The game should reward ingenuity, on-the-spot route planning, knowledge of the city's streets, and should promote safer cycling away from main roads.Cyclists

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-91710424130728222092010-05-17T10:24:00.009+01:002010-05-17T12:57:15.569+01:00

The question of what was before or after time has always bugged me, as well as how time could come into existence with the creation of the universe, since shouldn't there always have been time? But if time always existed, at what time was the creation of the universe? 10.30 on a Tuesday morning? This has always been baffling. Well I read a little bit the other day about Aristotle, and how he says

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-28617301635285761652010-05-16T11:48:00.006+01:002010-05-17T11:41:51.975+01:00

Lately I've been innundated with questions from my ocean of readers, so I thought I'd make it easier for you all and create an FAQ in which hopefully all your questions will be answered. If you have any others, that aren't covered, by all means ask away, and I'll add them to the bottom, assuming they come up to my high standard of intellect, which probably counts most of you out doesn't

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-54600968969273291482010-05-15T14:04:00.000+01:002010-05-15T14:04:25.180+01:00

You want to be a writer? You need to get on your arseWow! ON your arse! I see what you did there!Hey, get off my back!Suck on my cock!God, get that chip off your shoulder!You're off your head!

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-71064319152306810772010-05-14T17:11:00.005+01:002010-05-14T19:23:36.187+01:00

Shit my dad says - a mildly amusing twitter feed of what one cranky old guy says to his live-at-home adult son while they sit and watch Golden Girls re-runs together - has been made into a book. The agent has obviously done a mortifyingly good job in steering what is, let's be honest, about as thin a book proposal as you can possibly imagine into a - and I quote - "brilliantly funny, touching

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-53815204055464699292010-05-14T11:06:00.006+01:002010-05-14T16:32:18.176+01:00

This is ace: get a fair-sized pic of any Private Eye cover you fancy. Some good un's, laboriously collated via an extremely irritating interface by your faithful blogger : 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9Well I got carried away : 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20They make up a very particular trawl through political history, with a bit of culture thrown in, and a lot of Royal piss-takes. A lot of my picks for

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-11751998372313906702010-05-14T09:46:00.006+01:002010-05-14T12:45:49.968+01:00

Because this blogging everyday thing has been going quite well, for me at least, not for anybody else so far as I can tell, I thought I'd fuck it up by starting a tumblr blog as well what will take this feed and do something with it I don't know what [edit: apparently fuck all], also other fancy shit, I don't know if it's any good, I had to get criticalbill.tumblr.com before those rap-rockers

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-44563622324402353782010-05-13T08:15:00.006+01:002010-05-14T16:52:54.830+01:00

I had a dream about Barack Obama the other night, I can't remember much of it anymore but one distinct thing I remember was that we were having a chat and he said I should come to Yale or something like that and then he went off and I went opened a door and he was having a sneaky line of coke, the little toerag. I wonder if he's having dreams about me - 'and then this scrawny English dude popped

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-30800508125439782262010-05-13T07:12:00.003+01:002010-05-24T12:40:55.024+01:00

One of the benefits of taking an internet pseudonym from a popular Hollywood film is that you get to share it with all sorts. There aren't actually that many criticalbills out there, but there is this lot of Detroit rock-rappers. They've been teasing me for ages with a t-shirt that says "Who the fuck is criticalbill?" but whenever I've tried to actually see it, I've come back empty-browsered.

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-37666782526151200172010-05-12T22:17:00.011+01:002010-05-13T07:10:36.165+01:00

If you missed today's Sun well, lucky you. The newspaper which knows no shame continued its hagiographic approach to news reporting, going with the headline "Dave New World"; as stupid a headline as you are ever likely to see - quite apart from the profound inanity, what the hell does this "Dave New World" consist of? A bloke called Dave, stroking his pregnant wife's belly for the cameras (An

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-62704945911145597752010-05-12T07:53:00.006+01:002010-05-12T19:45:54.046+01:00

Hmmm, this should be tricky. As Tory scumbags molest the front door of No10 and frighten all the staff for the first time since the last Ice Age, I feel that it's incumbent on us to look on the positives, to keep our heads up high, and also to look at some negatives because, well that should be a bit easier.So thinking of good things to come of the marriage of Posh Tory and Soggy Tory we have:No

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-34088957902742948892010-05-11T23:27:00.001+01:002010-05-12T19:27:06.919+01:00

bastards bastards bastards its going to be a long five years. Thank god though cos a short five years would be a sign that you were really fucking old, like as if you were 80 and then your 85 and it's like, wow that was quick, how the hell did that ever happen, what's on the telly, whaddyamean Kojak's not on anymore! One of the worst things about getting old - and I mean my sort of getting old

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-71201395210577176652010-05-10T09:30:00.001+01:002010-05-10T09:38:52.602+01:00

Can't someone make a teabag that stops brewing after a few minutes? After the allotted time, the paper in the bag shrivels up and stops the tea brewing any further. Or the bag fills itself with air and floats to the top. Or the tea is specially treated so that it dissolves as it brews, so after a few minutes there's no leaves even left.Why the hell has no-one done this yet? How can people spend

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-74357735872102830882010-05-09T14:37:00.002+01:002010-05-09T14:50:24.789+01:00

I went to Brighton the other day. Well not the other day, whenever the hell it was. Brighton, famous for Brighton rock, as much because of the pebbly beach as the crab stick style sweet. Whose idea was the pebbly beach? Some right fucking idiot - it's a beach, but it's got stones on it! Why not go the whole hog and just have a beach made up of broken glass? (Not unheard of, apparently.) Who

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-21786910722372817752010-05-08T19:08:00.004+01:002010-05-12T20:33:55.619+01:00

It turns out I didn't need to write a screed on PR. John Cleese has done it for me, in this SDP/Liberal Alliance party political broadcast from 1987. Worth watching for both the overview, which is good, and for the sight of John Cleese jumping the comedy shark. Via

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-82961275547584806122010-05-08T15:12:00.005+01:002010-05-09T13:18:35.286+01:00

Lies. Everybody tells them. Everyone expects them. We can't handle the truth - we actually want people to tell us lies. We tell so many lies we even lie to ourselves. What's the biggest lie we tell? When we tell children: "You shouldn't tell lies."What's the difference between the lies we accept and expect and the lies we despise? Some lies we tell to spare other people's feelings. But a lot of

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-23176000607204982172010-05-07T15:48:00.027+01:002010-05-08T19:06:55.364+01:00

It looks like the Tories are going to try to cobble together some sort of minority government, maybe with some Lib Dems on board - although Cameron's 'big, open, comprehensive offer' didn't seem to amount to much - so we may miss out on a Proportional Representation deal between Labour and the Libs. This is a massive shame, and it's a massive shame for Labour as well as the Liberals.Labour has

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-54391168546714838782010-05-06T08:41:00.002+01:002010-05-06T09:55:05.704+01:00

Someone said to me that my line that Tories are for cunts, Libs for wets, etc was a bit broad. Apart from anything else: of course it's a bit fucking broad, it's a fucking generalisation, made for the purposes of simplifying things. What kind of generalisation isn't broad?Anyway this one happens to be true. To prove it, just ask yourself this: When was the last time you heard someone say "I

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-16163255142752767692010-05-05T16:43:00.002+01:002010-05-06T09:51:29.509+01:00

A short film about Bernard Hare and his book Urban Grimshaw and the Shed Crew. The book (published in 2005) documents his time spent associating with the 'feral' teenagers of the Leeds under-class.also posted at Metafilter

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-51953596553167669002010-05-04T17:20:00.009+01:002010-05-12T20:32:03.994+01:00

John Cooper Clarke, variously called the Bard of Salford, the Salford Poet Laureate, the Salford Bob Dylan, well you get the idea, he's a poet from Salford. The rhyming ranter, who seems to have had more comebacks than a gay porno star who won't do facials, hasn't exactly been fastidious in mopping up the residue of his unlikely punk-era success - a long heroin addiction, followed by domestic

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-12395210533149304562010-05-03T14:00:00.005+01:002010-05-03T19:21:54.437+01:00

Twitter, that massive great big thing that could be good but yet somehow doesn't seem to be. Or I haven't worked it out yet. A lot of it seems to be one half of a conversation, inconsequential outbursts or links that you'll never click on. It could be good for keeping up with things in real time, but when do you really need to keep up with things in real time? To get the best out of it you seem

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-79085533256699183962010-05-02T17:09:00.006+01:002010-05-03T13:26:23.673+01:00

It must be Football's Only A Game weekend in the Guardian. Maybe they're trying to soften us up for England's disastrous election results world cup campaign.First, Tottenham's Benoit Assou-Ekotto, that rare thing, an articulate footballer says: "The president of my former club Lens said I left because I got more money in England, that I didn't care about the shirt. I said: 'Is there one player in

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-26138538260161146962010-05-01T15:36:00.010+01:002010-05-07T12:26:25.344+01:00

(more undergraduate politics for you)I was in my local shop this morning and the Turkish shopkeeper was watching coverage of the Workers' Day celebrations in Istanbul. It was probably equivalent to the sort of coverage we get on the Queen's Jubilee, huge crowds cheering, flags waving, updates rolling across the bottom of the screen. One million people, he reckoned, were out on the Turkish

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-27776791985515175972010-04-30T11:38:00.007+01:002010-05-06T11:49:24.687+01:00

Watched the third debate between the three party leaders. It's one of those occasions where it's almost too easy to be cynical, but christ there's a lot to be cynical about. I guess elections are always which one do you dislike the least, which one's going to do the least harm, but this year's has taken that to some new hideous extreme. Perhaps if politicians were a bit more honest (ha! as if

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-88692048605968145122010-04-29T19:52:00.011+01:002010-04-29T20:30:13.063+01:00

LIZ JONES: Now I know why I hate myselfSkipping over the obvious - because you write for the Daily Mail, dear - some choice quotes which explain maybe why she writes for the Daily Mail.Everything I do is tinged with fear. As a child, my over-protective mum was terrified I would be run over ... I always assumed I was in imminent danger of being murdered. I developed a habit of conjuring images of

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-76337936245123105892010-04-29T13:28:00.014+01:002010-04-30T18:05:58.011+01:00

Thiago Motta today revealed that it was Jose Mourinho's tactical genius that got him sent off in the 25th minute in last night's semi-final against Barcelona."Jose had a little word with me before the game and he said: "Look Thiago, I want you to get sent off as soon as possible, then we can crowd the defence, frustrate the Barcelonians and no-one will complain that I routinely send out dull,

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-28083066366000440292010-04-29T09:49:00.002+01:002010-05-09T13:14:15.890+01:00

Writers are often told, along with many other globules of advice - like, get a proper job you jackass - to start the morning by writing a few pages of whatever the hell comes into their head. Recently these appear to have been named 'morning pages', but the idea is well established, that a morning bathing in the stream of your consciousness allows you to unclog your writing brain and tone it up a

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-27112837984410083122010-04-28T13:39:00.002+01:002010-04-28T14:09:58.966+01:00

Pentecostal minister Clovis Salmon, known in Brixton as "Sam The Wheels" due to his bike wheel-making skills, came to Britain from Jamaica in the 1950s. From the 1960s to the 1980s he used his Super-8 camera to film Brixton daily life and church scenes, including the aftermath of the 1981 riots.

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-20614191916974963112010-04-28T09:43:00.004+01:002010-05-15T00:52:55.114+01:00

China: Saviours of Snooker, Radio 4Martin Kelner is one of only the very few regularly decent columnists in the Guardian, writing an unheralded and generally funny Monday column on what he's watched on TV sport. So finding out that he's made a radio show about the rise of snooker in China had me hoping for some of that good stuff. Kelner didn't actually travel to China, although it's always hard

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-68122057911289709072010-04-27T11:16:00.002+01:002010-04-30T10:49:46.178+01:00

31 years after Blair Peach was killed on Beechcroft Avenue, Southall, on St George's Day 1979, the police have finally published the report written by Commander John Cass, along with other material they collected in the investigation. The release of the documents is a victory for Celia Stubbs, Peach's partner, especially since, as was always suspected, the report more or less confirms the

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-35342568191158286022010-04-26T21:42:00.002+01:002010-04-30T10:19:53.065+01:00

Blogger has a next blog button, where you click and are instantly transported to a random blog somewhere in the world. You can probably see it up there above me. Since I've been trying to blog more and since I heard that interacting with other blogs is an essential part of blogging, I tried it out. It was not a success. Of course I have the attention span of a very small gnat, but still, not one

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-47674071065053061202010-04-26T11:25:00.001+01:002010-05-06T09:33:52.318+01:00

Nick Clegg says that the Tories in Scotland are 'irrelevant'. This may well be true but ha! Talk about forgetting where you've come from, two weeks ago and the Lib Dems were 'irrelevant'. I can't stand politicians - obviously, since I can't stand most people - but it's a little galling watching Nick Clergg, who I once saw completely underwhelm a huge meeting against the Heathrow third runway,

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-84419448389853089782010-04-25T13:38:00.000+01:002010-04-26T11:01:31.961+01:00

Marathon day in London. The TV coverage, with its relentless focus on the 'fun' and the 'heart-warming', makes it hard to avoid the conclusion that most marathon runners are data processors from Swindon, or website designers from Slough, the kind of people who would have had 'you don't have to be mad to work here but it helps' signs up in the 1980s and nowadays probably fill out Frankie Boyle

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-86752043563985626902010-04-24T15:08:00.002+01:002010-04-24T15:34:24.180+01:00

Who knows about google analytics? It's a tool website people use to measure traffic on their websites. I of course couldn't possibly measure traffic on my website, since it's so astronomical it is uncountable. But I check it anyway, now and again, to see if my blog has reached more people in a day than I could reach just by yelling out my window. Typically the answer is no I get quite a few hits

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-29089979418000469172010-04-23T14:59:00.000+01:002010-04-24T11:57:06.065+01:00

St George's Day. It's a funny old thing. No-one seems to know when it is, or how to celebrate it. The Irish get pissed for Paddy's Day, the Welsh cook leeks (or something), the Jocks probably get pissed as well for St Andrew's Day or possibly play golf, but what do the English do for St George's Day? Well, traditional celebrations include a Guardian article mentioning what a hilarious coincidence

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-55044603089603506362010-04-22T10:24:00.000+01:002010-04-22T11:22:59.166+01:00

'I'll tell you how it started. I thought I knew it all you see, I thought nothing like that could ever happen to me. So when they came up to me at school and they said: "Ere sonny, do you want to join the Conservative party?" I thought nothing would happen. I thought I could handle it. I could take it or leave it. At first it was just now and again, a little meeting once a week. I liked how it

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-91850980408025942702010-04-21T11:50:00.000+01:002010-04-21T13:32:47.222+01:00

Good old Louis, gonzo-bumbler, gauchely uncovering great scoops - like for instance that Max Clifford tells lies, or that Jimmy Saville is a fucking weirdo; Charming Louis, from a famous family: son of Paul Theroux, brother of Marcel Theroux (who I've never heard of), and also apparently brother of Jon Ronson (although that one isn't openly admitted); Posh old Louis, fag to Nick Clegg of all

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-81803193726588925952010-04-20T11:54:00.001+01:002010-04-22T11:23:31.798+01:00

Someone finds what is maybe the new iPhone 'in a bar', sells it to Gizmodo, they break it open and peek inside, before splashing big on the internet (and driving a fuckload of traffic their way), Apple ask for it back and grass grows and trees blow in the wind. All this mentioned for no other reason than this comment on Metafilter.

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-62359294210684997442010-04-20T09:37:00.001+01:002010-04-21T13:45:12.971+01:00

I've had a new idea, which is that I am going to post on here once a day - this is not going to happen, but i am going to try and write something for posting as often as i am able, which is quite often at the moment. This is inspired by hearing that when you run a blog - although I more walk a blog, or possibly shuffle along a blog - it is quantity not quality that's important, a sad indictment

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-7827693524078448882010-04-05T13:36:00.002+01:002010-05-08T15:41:53.759+01:00

'No, I think he's from Swindon.'Police said Mr Cole, who was wearing a bow tie and rather too much tweed for his age, would not reveal his country of origin.What I especially like about this story is at the end it says: "Mr Cole was taken to a secure mental health facility in Geneva but later disappeared from his cell." So obviously not that secure a mental facility.

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-75183245224056025212010-03-19T09:33:00.002Z2010-04-29T13:57:45.292+01:00

HORRIFIED teachers are having to hand back worthless newspapers to pupils after confiscating them - because printing unsubstantiated hypocritical bullshit is still legal.Worried school heads last night joined the families of teenage victims John Smith and John Lewis in backing calls to ban The Sun, real name The Scum Sucker.The demands came as the known UK death toll rose to five.Meanwhile the

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-44932503223271886872010-03-18T11:25:00.000Z2010-04-24T02:25:53.406+01:00

As I was up early Sunday, I thought I'd roll down to Brick Lane, mooch about in the morning and perhaps collar a replacement bike, since mine fell victim to what appeared a minor fault but turned out to be terminal, as though a loved on had been carried off by a cold. Walking through Old Street I was struck, as often happens, by the fresh sheen of gentrification on the otherwise grimy and

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091662.post-23786879501133599162010-03-11T12:56:00.000Z2010-03-11T13:00:03.781Z

"the best little club in the UK"When are we going to take to the streets demanding cheap drugs and decent clubs?We need to stand up for what we believe in

criticalbillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06401540558636475762noreply@blogger.com0