Continuing with a sporadically running theme that ponders the question ‘Is this really news’, I turn your glance once again towards our region’s favourite daily, The MEN.
It seems a certain comic is in high favour at Evening News towers, judging by the sickly amounts of praise that gets thrust his way, but this latest piece is surely either, a) a joke, b) being paid for or, c)just a really shit article. “Peter's Royal show room not fit for a king,” the headline exclaims. The Peter in question is Peter Kay, the comedian from Bolton, who is given quite enough column inches this week in another front page article about the amount of tickets he sold recently (lots).
The story being unashamedly thrashed out here refers to the dressing room allocated to ‘king’ Peter at the recent recording of the Royal Variety Performance, that bastion of the nation’s top (cough) light entertainers. Peter, so far as the MEN are concerned, was not given a big enough room in which to prepare. That’s it – that’s the story. I’m not joking. Here is the offending room:
It ‘contained little more than a couple of chairs and a sink’ the article bemoans. I’d have thought one chair and sink would be quite enough. In fact, what does he even need a sink for? He needs somewhere to dump his bag before telling a few jokes. I’d have given him a locker.
A Scottish company is attempting to take beer into new territory – extreme beer, possibly.BrewDog, the company in question, have released an 18.3% brew, being sold at the princely sum of £10 (for a 330ml bottle) from their website and in just five specialist beer shops in the country.But they’ve had some grief from industry watchdog The Portman Group.There’s a slogan on the bottle, apparently, that might encourage people to indulge in a touch of excess from time to time.Not the sort of thing that watchdogs like, apparently.
I quite like BrewDog though – a quick fumble around their website reveals a company with a sense of humour and a passion for what they’re doing.They also have some good names for their beers: they followed Tokyo* (the one that felt the wrath of the watchdog) with a low alcohol ale called Nanny State.Nice touch.
They’ve also upped their game again recently in the extreme beer stakes with a new creation at 32%.That is some seriously extreme beer but the alcohol content isn’t the only thing of note with this particular brew; it’s got a pretty special name too: Tactical Nuclear Penguin.Love it.
Roll up, roll up, the circus is in town. It was inevitable, I suppose, what with Pure hosting a weekly X Factor rejects show. There’s no easy way to say this so I’ll just get it out there – Jedward are coming to town. That’s right, the odd, bouncing Irish pair will be fulfilling their X Factor contracts and coming to Manchester to ‘perform’ live, in front of a heaving, lubricated Saturday night audience in Pure. God help them.
Let’s list all the things we know about Jedward:
1. They’re Irish. 2. They’re twins. 3. Simon Cowell doesn’t like them. 4. Louis Walsh pretended to like them. 5. Most people want to hit them.
I’m out of knowledge there I’m afraid, probably due to the fact that my awareness of the subject has been gleaned mainly by glancing over the front pages of the red tops when I’m in the shop. I glance at the Mail while I’m there too, just to see how the world looks from that particular viewpoint. Scary, seems to be the idea. And angry.
So anyway, Jedward are on their way this Saturday 5 December to do whatever it is they do that people find endearing or, perhaps more baffling, entertaining. Still, it seems it’s cool to ironically support such atrocities of association to the concept of music, so we might as well join in because, you know, it’s cool, like. Innit. Go Jedward!! 1!1!
I wrote about ID cards coming to Manchester a while ago, regular readers may recall. For the rest of you I’ll just give you a link and you can update yourselves. I write now as their arrival is imminent – from 30 November residents of Manchester will be able to get themselves one of these intriguing, myth-like creations. £30 is the price you will have to pay and the passport office, from where these things are being issued, will extract all sorts of data from you, from simple bank account level stuff – like your name and address – to more intimate things like fingerprints and small sections of your soul.
OK, so not your soul, but there have understandably been very vocal demonstrations against these things, ranging from indignation to complete bafflement. Most people seem to be asking pretty much the same thing – what’s the point? The governments answer the other week was, amongst other thing, ‘Young people will be able to get into clubs and bars hassle free’. So the national concern over the binge drinking culture seems to be out of the window for now then.
A nice lady from the government (Junior Home Office Minister Meg Hillier) bravely went on the MEN website this week to do a live online chat, answering people’s questions on the cards. She bravely deflected a barrage of negativity, mostly, as I say, revolving around the ‘what’s the point’ question. They did a poll halfway through asking who would be voluntarily signing up for these non-compulsory, £30 cards. Results: Yes: 4%, No: 96%. I sort of felt sorry for her. Sort of, but not really.
This caught my eye because it contains two conflicting topics for me – airports and bars.I like bars.I don’t like airports.Their marrying is an interesting concept still, especially when put into this context – a plan to install a bar/restaurant into the now defunct control tower at Manchester airport terminal one.
My dislike of airports stems from a disliking of flying and their role as buffer between the world and the aeroplane.I shy away from using the word ‘fear’ but I suppose that’s what it is.I am scared when I am in a plane because I don’t want to die just yet.It’s as simple as that and you can quote all the statistics you like at me but I’ll still prefer to drive, or cycle, my way around the world than get in one of those big metal tubes.It’s the lack of influence on my fate that I don’t like – just sitting there hoping the pilot knows what he’s doing, hoping the engineers did thorough enough checks, hoping the engines keep going, hoping a flock of birds doesn't fly into the jets, hoping we don’t drop out of the sky.
So to position a bar in such an immediately adjacent environment to this method of transport is an intriguing idea for me.The tower boasts 360 degree views over the airport and surrounding Cheshire countryside and a space 100 metres square, potentially offering a unique party destination.I can just see it now, sipping a cold beer whilst watching hundreds upon hundreds of people risking their lives in front me, safe in the knowledge that my own journey home is just a 10 minute car journey up the road.I think I would be content.Unless the planes got too close to the tower.Then I’d be scared.
I’m trying hard not to think about it but apparently it’s that time of year when everything has the word ‘Christmas’ attached to it in some way. Christmas plans, Christmas markets, Christmas lights, Christmas drinks, Christmas holidays, Christmas bloody shopping. This is why I’m almost sick of it when the time comes to leave work behind and try and enjoy it – because we’ve been going on about it since the middle of October.
Anyway – I’m trying to be positive. Someone’s* put together a cool little bit of animation for Visit Manchester in an attempt to draw yet more crowds (and coins) into the city over the coming month or so. It’s nice – have a look.
All items used were, apparently, found in Manchester shops. I’m off in search of the green gnome.
*’Someone’, in this case, is actually Peter Purves, along with fellow Manchester creatives Dinasour, Amaze, Loose Moose Productions and Hot Animation.
A slightly puzzling story from the streets of Manchester this week, one of a policeman and an ‘unhealthy interest in sex workers’.It goes a little something like this:Colleagues radio for help because of a fight in the city centre; officer doesn’t respond because he’s ‘far too interested’ in patrolling the area behind Piccadilly station, known for being popular with those ladies of the night.He gets done because the Police had him under surveillance, presumably because they were suspicious of his activities.
What puzzles me about this is mainly the fact that it could ever happen in the first place.I mean, firstly, aren’t they meant to patrol in pairs?What was the other one doing?And I thought they had GPS on them all so they could see who was nearest to the scene.If so, how did that radio conversation go?‘Oi, you over by Piccadilly, get into the centre because some of the lads are having a fight.’‘I can’t right now I’m busy...err...behind the train station, patrolling.’‘Oh, all right then.’Here’s a shot of Piccadilly station and its apparently lively backstreets – cheers Google Maps:
I suppose the fact he’s been caught tells us that it isn’t possible to simply do as you please when you’re a police officer out on patrol but the level of freedom implied by this is slightly worrying.
In other news, it seems I may be missing something of a trick by not venturing into the world of boxing match prediction, or, rather, the prediction of small details of boxing matches.Those two blokes I was on about below had their fight at the weekend and the boy Haye, as you may know, managed to beat the giant Russian on points.He did also, however, as very precisely predicted by yours truly, break one of his hands on impact with the granite-like features of his opponent.I should have had some money on it.
This is David Haye. He’s a boxer (although I think the photo probably gives that away somewhat). His nickname is The Hayemaker.
He’s 6’3” and fights as a heavy weight. He would be considered in many circles rather a large, threatening man. This is a picture of him next to the guy he’s fighting this weekend:
I can assure you that no perspective tricks are being played in this photo. The other guy, Nikolay Valuev, really is that big. He’s Russian, not that that explains it any. His nickname is The Beast from the East. He is seven feet tall and, judging by this picture, has a head made from granite. Haye reckons he’s going to knock him out. I don’t doubt he could, assuming he can reach up that high and doesn’t break his hands on impact.
With nothing better to write about in the early part of this week I resort once again to the local news headlines and am greeted with yet more easily dismissible ‘news’. Wayne Rooney and his missus have had a baby, if you hadn’t heard. They’ve called it Kai, or, if, like me, you heard the news report from the rather fast talking presenter, Kaiwayne. Kaiwayne Rooney – catchy. It’s not actually that – middle name is Wayne, first name Kai. It was confusing.
Anyway, I shan’t dwell on the facts too much as there’s not a lot to them. The MEN even had to resort to reporting on the parents' attire in order to fill the word count. This always amuses me. I quote: “Coleen wore a black and beige top with a black blazer and black trousers, while Wayne was wearing a cowboy shirt, jeans and a sleeveless puffer jacket.” Fascinating stuff.
It is the readers’ comments that most interested me today, however. Local news sites are often a good source for some truly bizarre, occasionally spiteful but always representative comments. There was quite a lot of support for Wayne and Colleen on this one but, unsurprisingly, some negative input also. “Do they do shell suits 1-6 months?” asked one reader. Very droll. Some opted for simple messages of support: “Great news! X,” said one, while another felt the need to put actual sentences together: “Congrats to Wayne & Coleen Rooney on the safe arrival of baby Kai. What a beautiful name, too! "The Sea", in Hawaiian...God's blessing on the young family.”
The most bizarre has to be placed in the ‘let me tell you how to bring up your kids’ category, one which, I am reliably informed by infanted friends, fills up rapidly, usually from strangers, post-childbirth. This comment – on a public news website, remember – reads as follows:
“Don't start him on goats milk because it causes lot's of wind and he will burp a lot and have loads of hiccups, and cry all the time.”
This has been front page news on ‘Manchester’s Number One Regional Newspaper and Website’ for a couple of days now.The headline is:‘Mum spooked by 'screaming' Halloween crisp’.A woman found a crisp that looks a little like a face – that’s the story.The quote from the lady herself: "I was a bit spooked at first but it is quite funny. I will keep it and show it to my friends. It's almost like it really has eyes - the detail in it looks like eyeballs.”Really, it is quite amazing.Have a look for yourself:
I’m spooked by it.Spooked that someone would give it a second thought, keep it, phone the newspaper, be willingly photographed with it for all to see:
Obviously I’ve doctored that image very slightly so as not to reveal the crisp finder’s true identity.I don’t mean to be critical at all, you must note before accusing me of such.I’m just saying I would have looked at said crisp and perhaps chuckled slightly.Then eaten it.That way, though, the world would never have seen it and where would we all be then, eh?
Those amongst you with some memory capacity may remember a while ago I had a bit of a rant about Guinness. It’s not that I don’t like it, quite the opposite, it’s more that I don’t like the way a lot of people treat it and the resulting effect that has on this most pleasurable of drinks. For a recap, or even a first sight, I shall direct you precisely here.
Now, I did say at the time that I would be updating regularly and recording my progress on my Manchester Guinness mission. That hasn’t happened because...well, it hasn’t happened. Unless you class seven months as ‘regular’. I suppose if I were to do it seven-monthly it would be regular.
Anyway, let’s not dwell on that because I have news from the Guinness investigations. I am here to report back. Firstly, let me reiterate something I stated way back in March: “Let’s be clear: This is not a review of Manchester’s bars and pubs. I don’t give a shit what the bar staff look like or if the place is nice and cosy; for the purposes of this research I will solely be interested in the state of their Guinness.”
I had the misfortune of drinking a pint of the black stuff here a while ago and it was without question one of the worst Guinness experiences I’ve ever had (the worst was in a tiny village in Spain where the lady had obviously never even used the funny black pump on the bar before and proceeded to pour a pint with a three inch head, then scoop the excess out with her filthy, claw-like hands. But that’s another story...). My notes from the day read thus:
Pour:5/10 – a cursory pause between delivery but with little meaning. Look: 1/10 – not even a Guinness glass and it was immediately obvious that it would be thin and completely unsatisfying. Taste: 2/10 – delivered little but a hint of that good old Guinness taste. Overall: 8/30
The tulip glass is a must for decent Guinness. Kro don’t even try to make an effort with a traditional bulged pint pot – this was delivered in one of those ribbed, American style things. One of these:
I am surprised to inform you that the pint I had in Odd wasn’t all that bad. The glass was straight, not tulip-like, and the pour was rather unrefined, but it wasn’t actually a bad taster. Got a bit thin towards the end though. Odd’s scores as follows: Pour: 6/10 Look: 6/10 Taste: 7/10 Overall: 19/30
The Northern Quarter’s supposed favourite boozer should, by the looks of it, be a Guinness drinker’s paradise. It looks like the sort of place artists and poets hang out – those most stereotypical of Guinness drinkers. Judging by the attire of the students who were in there, such stereotypes are something many still aspire to. The Guinness was average at best, thanks to a rather tobacco tinged after taste. Not uncommon with Guinness but that probably says more about the conditions under which most Guinness is served than it does of the drink itself, unfortunately.
A Guinness drinker's bar if ever I saw one (or maybe that was just the amount of Guinness drinkers in there that made me think that). It even looks good in other people’s glasses. No huge refinement on the pouring procedure but the look and taste give it the current top spot.
All of this may lead some of you to believe that I will never find my perfect pint of Guinness, existing as it does only in my mind’s eye and far from these critical words which I spout. Well, you would be wrong. It does exist, I’ve had it. And it is by that which all others are judged. It is not I who should be less critical but the publicans who should be more attentive.
It’s always nice to see a bit of recognition from a large company that they are very aware of their place in the world.Dixons, purveyors of electronic goods to the nation, have produced a series of adverts that are really quite clever.It’s a visual thing really so I’ll just leave you to it.You do have to have a bit of knowledge of the retail world in general, or at least have visited the Trafford Centre before, but it’s a pretty simple concept in essence.Simple, but clever.
This blog, as you may have gathered, is not about anything in particular. I just write about stuff that catches my attention, generally amuses or appals me. Sometimes it’s a bit tricky to find a decent subject on which to release my evident cynicism but this week I have been thrown a lifeline, this week it’s easy thanks to one Shayne Ward, or, rather, his fans.
Shayne, you may remember (or possibly wish to forget) won a television series called The X Factor a few years ago. He won by virtue of the fact that he can hold a tune and was fairly easy on the eye – seemingly all that is required on such projects, the winner merely being cast as a pawn to be manipulated in the game of moneymaking that motivates the people behind such broadcasting activities; free to be discarded once the last soulless pennies have been squeezed from their monotonous vocal chords.
You’ve probably not given Mr Ward much thought over the last two years, the marketing machine that plays him like a puppet not having infiltrated every possible media outlet for a while by virtue of the fact that he hasn’t released an album over that time. OK, but so what, right? Who cares? Well some people do, apparently, because The Shayne Ward Fan Club (they even get capital letters) have finally had enough of waiting and have taken to the streets in protest. They blame his record company, Syco (owned, perhaps not surprisingly, by Simon Cowell), for delaying the release and they’re not happy.
"We want the album, we want it now!" they chanted whilst displaying banners and placards bearing their hero’s image. "We, the fans, want a new album, we want a new tour and we want Shayne to be given the chance to shine like the star we know he truly is," one said in a frankly breathtaking expression of solidarity for the ‘singer’. These people, let’s not forget, have taken time off work to go out and express their feelings. My favourite quote was this one: “He's not just a pop star, he's the people's champion.”
Still, despite rather grand reports that the protesters ‘took to the streets of Manchester’, the collection of a dozen or so friends in a corner of Salford probably didn’t bother the general public too much and neither was there much of a bill for the Police’s time, one wouldn’t imagine. I wouldn’t be surprised if we see a bigger expression of public disgust when the album actually is released.
Corporate branding is something that people spend literally thousands of pounds on.Logos, public image, all that sort of stuff.You basically pay some sort of agency loads of money and they give you a logo and some words about missions and identity and awareness, maybe even a slogan, then leave you alone with it all.As you can tell, I’m something of an expert on all this.
Burnley (that’s a town, by the way, in Lancashire) have themselves embarked on such an exercise of attempting to improve their public perception, the result of which is proving to be something of a talking point. The logo they’ve adopted is the particular focus of the attention.Here it is:
Now, I’m no designer, and nor am I a corporate branding expert, so far be it from me to criticise...but...it’s a bit of a mess, isn’t it?I liked one comment:“Well the sign sums Burnley council right up...keep going round in circles and end up in a right mess."
To be fair, if you look at the Burnley website the animation thing does look a bit more impressive than the squiggle.A bit.
It ‘contained little more than a couple of chairs and a sink’ the article bemoans. I’d have thought one chair and sink would be quite enough. In fact, what does he even need a sink for? He needs somewhere to dump his bag before telling a few jokes. I’d have given him a locker.
It ‘contained little more than a couple of chairs and a sink’ the article bemoans. I’d have thought one chair and sink would be quite enough. In fact, what does he even need a sink for? He needs somewhere to dump his bag before telling a few jokes. I’d have given him a locker.
