Mu-sick!

Please please please put a stop to ads with cute acapella music on.

The new Audi ad for the R8 perfectly highlights my point. Some cute plincky ploncky music sung by an odd European or Brazilian who has happened to write a few lyrics roughly relevant to a car. That sort of music is the modern equivalent of clip art.

I honestly don't understand why ad agency's don't commission artists to write a song for the car they are advertising. Then call it something relevant to the car, for example, 'Ford' by 'Clio', and before you know you'll have all them pointless Radio DJ's screaming your cars name. You never know it might even end up 'and at number one this week, Octavio by Skoda'.

Yes, perhaps not then.

Zoom zoom zoom.

Tate That and party.

I went to the Tate to see the Turner Prize retrospective yesterday as I really wanted to see Damien Hirst's Mother and child. It was awesome to see it in the flesh, although obviously the flesh was soaked in formaldehyde.

Whilst there I also had a poke around Simon Starlings Shedboatshed which I personally think is a master piece. I love the idea behind it, and I guess that is why we question what indeed is art as there wasn't a paint stroke in sight, apart from Cuprinol on wood?

There were indeed loads of paintings and sculptures there, but these weren't the pieces that appealled to me.

Gormleys bronze statues were there. I love the sinister nature of them, although, admittedly, the ones exhibited weren't in anyway sinister as they were all bent double.

Photos of the house which Rachel Whiteread filled with concrete was at the exhibition. It was great looking at the photos of the negative space and imagining people living in that space, opening the windows and doors, stoking the fire.

But, however much I love shedboatshed it was Gillian Wearing's '60 minutes of Silence' which I thought was most magical. It was basically a full size video of 25 actors dressed as policemen and policewomen sitting posing for a photo. They had to sit looking into the camera for 60 minutes whilst scratching, looking, fidgeting and generally getting bored. I just sat and watched them sitting. It was zen like. Apparently after an hour one of the faux cops gives out a massive scream to break the 60 minutes of silence. It was ace.

Anyway, I have already written to much. Modern art is good, and the Turner Prize, although a victim of it's own success, is good too.

Let's have a massive Tate Art Attack. I'll give Buchanan a call.

Good luck?

I'm sure you are aware that it is considered extremely good luck if a bird does a whoopsy on you.

Well i was thinking, surely it is much luckier if the shite doesn't hit you?

I would certainly say 'phew, that was lucky' as a bird poo flew past my head and landed just by my shoes/trainers.

Anyway, that was it, i'm all done.

And i love the idea that, like us, birds have foreheads. I wonder if bald eagles go around slapping each others foreheads bellowing 'slap head'?

I hope so. I really do.

And so the carnage begins.

As i pointed out earlier, my first ever post was about the forgotten christmas tree..

Well, this years murder and hate has begun.

Walking to lunch i saw 3 already discarded trees.



It is so sad to see, they give so much happiness, yet die in the gutter.

I might start a shelter for them. Give them little gifts to put under them, maybe a spray of fake snow instead of a mug of soup.

Please help.

Happy birthday to you.

Happy birthday to you,
Happy birthday to you,
Happy birthday dear All Hail the Hale,
Happy birthday to you.

'Hip hip.........'
'why was he born so beautiful, why was he born at all.......'

Yeah yeah.

Today, my blog is 1.

Please raise a cup of tea and wish All Hail the Hale a happy birthday.

For it was on this day last year that i wrote about the plight of the poor poor Christmas tree.

Well, i am going to write about trees again as i have already seen my first tree tucked up nice in Maida Vale.

So, again, if you happen to see any then please take a picture of the poor thing and send it to me.

And remember, a tree isn't for life, it is just for christmas.

Fingo.

Well i was thinking, you know all those Foxtons mini's that race around the country looking really cool, i think they should have a national game of bingo using them as the numbers.

Basically all those cool mini's have a number on them. When you see one out and about you take a photo and upload it onto your bingo card on their site.

Once you find all of them, you exclaim 'house' and they give away a house!

You could even have bingo lines that then convert to free stuff, like not paying fees, etc etc.

Foxtons, we love you, we promise, we really do, yes honestly.

Banuary!

Happy New Year one and all.

I appeared to eat and drink to much over that yule thing, so i have decided to take on 'Banuary'.

It is a month where i will not drink booze and i will not eat shite food.

This is not a resolution as they are pointless and make you feel rubbish, it is simply a more considered approach to eating and drinking.

Please fell free to join me on my journey.

Thanks

And, whilst looking up how to spell resollution i found this.

I especially enjoy;

'Employ some blind call centre agents.

There are some 200,000 blind or partially sighted people out there, who would make great call centre operators. Make this year’s resolution to employ a blind call centre agent.'

I love the way they think all blind people would make 'great call centre operators'.

Perhaps there are some blind people, who, just like sighted people, would make terrible call centre operators.

Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.