Beauty

I have a theory that `beauty` as an artistic concept is much more absracter than people give it credit for. Arty people often call renaissance frescos and landscapes with a photoshopped skies beautiful... which I spose they are. In the play Closer (By Paddy Marber), there's this quote when two people meet at an arty exhibition.

Larry: [on a photography exhibit] What do you think?
Alice: It's a lie. It's a bunch of sad strangers photographed beautifully, and... all the glittering assholes who appreciate art say it's beautiful 'cause that's what they wanna see. But the people in the photos are sad, and alone... But the pictures make the world seem beautiful, so... the exhibition is reassuring which makes it a lie, and everyone loves a big fat lie.
Larry: I'm the big fat liar's boyfriend.
Alice: Bastard!

Anyway. The Gospel according to Bennyfingers (yes, I've changed from Bennylegs to Bennyfingers) says Alice is wrong... Bohemians say that beauty and truth are intrinsic*  so I like this exhibition

Linky Link,

because it's an honest, unembelished portrayal of Britain. An no one loves a Big Fat Lie.

That's all I've got to say about that really.

* (according to Moulin Rouge as that's the only education I've really had on early last centry Parisien bohemia)

Bennyleg's Jaaazz Odyssey

The newest addition to the Blah household is my overstrung Zender upright piano and I well love it I do me. When I was your age I used to loose myself in music to alleiviate the statutory pain of growing up as a 2000s teenager. At home alone, in groups, at GCSE, in church, I'd fit music in wherever I could. I even produced John Galea's work, before he started getting professionals to do it - that's why it sounds crap now.

When I was 13-18 I felt I was defined by music, which suited me right down to the ground, but then when I moved in with the current Mrs Foster we had no room or indeed cash for a piano so for the last five years I've been pianoless... until now. (woo). Infact, buying the piano was something of a whim. We went round our new church's pianist's house for tea on the Saturday and after a late night tinkle bought a Piano on the Sunday.

So here we are again. Ben and piano, side by side ready to push the boundries of catharsis and bad rudiments. However, as a grown up I want to learn jaaaazz, whereas before I learned Bach and Mission Praise. Which leads me into something of a Jaaazzz Odyssey.

It turns out that Jaaazz is something of a broad encompasing term. From blues, to boogie woogie, to midnight jaaazz, to big band rock and rolla. I'm loving scouring all the resources I can find to get my jaaazz on. youtubes, Spofity, mySpaces, sheet music, old sheet music, and my piano teacher, Miss Sam Coe, founder and decorator of the wharf.

In an ideal world, I'd like to sound like Dale Hambridge. Utter legend in my eys. Go on, have a listen. Go on, I'll wait here - click it!

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Told you it was worth it.

Dale Hambdrige Trio aside, it doesn't take long to find some amazing specimens of jaaaazz laying around. See what Jooles Holland and Dr John got up toback in the day

How skill is that?

Or how about this?


Still not convinced? Okay, how about, less talent more style?


Even satirical jaaaazz sounds brilliant



That's what I'm liking about jaaaaazz. No rules - only guidelines. Mad scales, insane rhythms, and unpredictable improvisations. I'm looking forward to being able to tame the jazz beast. First though I need to figure out the differnce between blues and jaaaaazz as they sounds the same to me.

Oh, and one last thing - jaaaaaazz players have cool names like `Blind Boy Fuller`, `T-Bone Walker`, `Sleepy John Estes`, `Barbecue Bob` etc so I'm wondering what my jaaaaazz name should be. I'm thinking `Bennylegs` but not sure if that's rubbish. Let me know what you think.

`U suk` syndrome.

This internet's a funny old place, innit.

It's a bizarre paradox built 'pon anonyminitnity and interaction, which makes it a curiously fractious base for socialising. It's fine if you is thick skinned - or stupid as insults won't affect you, but it's all too easy in the user-soup that is youTube to be insulting.

The term `u suk!1 [sic]` is branded about like a Japanese army in a brothel.

Take a look at one of my favourite smear campaigns...

Well that's a copy of the actual original because ther were so many people calling this guy a homo in whatever creative form that he deleted his account. But you can see how easy (and to some people, tempting) to apply u suk syndrome to the situation.

Anyhoo, that's why I like

this story. It's grown up and a brief glimpse of normality on this crazy mixed up interconntectednetwork we all the `broadularband`. Good old Mr Fry. Here's a link to his blog incidently. Worth a read. Linky Link

Generation www dot forwardslash com dot org at uk

In My Day we used to spell a happy face with colon, hyphen then close bracket but this generation omits the hyphen.

That annoys me.

Also - why do old people say `I'll ping that email over to you now`? When has the situation ever occured where `ping` is a more suitable verb than `send`?

Cameron can certainly put the Tory party back on her feet, but what about the country?

I was excited when I heard about Dave Cameron's speech this weeek. You know those times when the media, the atmosphere and the general ambient of an event create an anticipation of its own accord - a presumptive mirth in going with the flow. It was the same when the Obama bandwagon started: his reputation preceeded him. And also with the launch of the iPhone. Presumably the same can be said about Jesus walking into Jerusalem and the release of Diana Vicker's new album. Maybe it was The Sun's adamant front page promulgation:

``CAMERON CAN HAVE A GO BECAUSE WE THINK HE'S HARD ENOUGH!``

that sparked my pre-emptively excited hope. Well it's certainly hard to argue with that sentiment - knowing how level headed and unbias The Sun can be. Indeed, when reading the article, one would find it difficult not to be swept up in the soundbites they take from Cameron's speech; his ``yeah, I've been saying that for ages`` style digs at the Government, his shameless trowelling on of `blue sky thinking` in word and in stage colour scheme, his imperial personification of the UK ``We can put her back on her feet``, The Sun reports teary eyed.

However, coming home to youTube (a much faithfuler portrayal of the speech) I can't help but feel more than a bit sceptical. I suppose speeches are like Easter eggs really. You deliberate carefully on where to put your choco-trust in line with your rights as a tax-paying citizen. Which offers the best promises? Do you vote solely on the one that claims to be friendly to the environment but will cost you more in the long run? Do you pick the egg that will swell the choco-conglomerates even more? Or do you pick the one with a fair price, down to earth promises, brightly coloured packaging and the hints of `well do you want to improve your life or not?` Probably the latter sounds like the right choice until you get home and find out it not actually a solid creme egg the size of your head. It's hollow, brittle, and makes you wonder how the Mars egg would have made you feel.

This is how Cameron's speech made me feel anyway. Looking at it with less carried away eyes - it's plain to see that behind phrases like `the one person who sustained me this year is sitting in the front row [in a strategic £55 M&S dress]` and `Family, community and country ... lay at the heart of my beliefs. `, oh and `Don’t you [the Labour party] dare lecture us about poverty. You have failed and it falls to us, the modern Conservative Party, to fight for the poorest who you have let down.`. I could go on. No really, I could go on for a long time as these subjective, flimsy soundbites (and let's clear that these are phrases that go better as one line highlights in a column than in a congurent speech of the opposition leader) are all the speech is made of.

His spin doesn't seem a world apart from Obama's arresting oratorical skills in election '08. It's not a speech of disgust and dissent of the Government like most opposition leaders, it's a speech of unity. It's an alpha male's cry for cohesion, the calling to a common cause, the bestowal of an identity. In short, it's Cameron's revolution. And how right his advisors are for this. Brown's demise doesn't need Cameron's vilifications - he's more than dug his own grave by his sheer incompetence, and in trying to salvage the country has just etched his own epitaph. Cameron is by happy chance, in the position where doesn't need to convince the electorate of Brown's unsuiability.

For Cameron to gain his much sought after Commons Majority all he needs to do is be everything Brown isn't. The natural leader; the great unificater; the visionary; the pragmatist; the popular; the attractive; the young; the English; the relaxed; the effortless. In his own words, `It’s your character, your temperament and your judgment that in the end count so much more than your policies and your manifesto,`.

The problem is that though - it's his manifesto that doesn't flow on from his carefully strategised speech. Why? Because there bloody isn't one! `We pledge to cut public spending` isn't a policy. `We believe there are many reasons to be cheerful` isn't a policy. `[we would] lead Britain in a completely different direction`, isn't a policy. Cameron's speech was little more than a pep talk. A crowd pleaser that buys time for the general election for him to establish some actual policies, which begs the question: Can you really vote for a man who's priorities really put policy and manifesto second place to spin?

Bike win!

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To be fair...

When I was fifteen I probably would have too...
Linky Link