The worst possible taste

The way that the death of Amy Winehouse was reported has raised a number of issues for me:

a) Before the funeral, there were reports that the family wanted this to be a private affair.  And of course, by reporting this the event became a very public affair.
b) Having announced that this was intended to be a private event, BBC news (amongst others) stationed a camera crew and presenter at the crematorium.
c) The speculation about the cause of death, reported as fact - apparently one Sunday tab managed to contradict itself on its own front page by stating that she had died of a drug overdose before going onto to say that death was actually caused by excessive alcohol. 

I know that there's nothing especially new about what they're all doing, but this behaviour just struck me as especially distasteful.

Modern Life is Rubbish

I read that Adele's latest album has recently secured its one millionth sale via download, which got me to thinking about how we are starting to consume our cds and books.

It seems anomalous to me that in a time of growing materialism two of the things that I hold dearest, words & music,  are quickly becoming electronic commodities, ciphers of their physical selves. A 100,000 word novel can be downloaded in moments to your pamphlet-thin Kindle where it is stored in a virtual library.  A newspaper hived off to your iPad, where it will fight for your attention alongside your photo albums, myriad apps and slick Internet interface.  Meanwhile your record collection can be held on your laptop.  Of course, with the advent of Spotify you could argue that you need not bother with a hard drive loaded with mp3s any longer. That being the case, why bother with your own record collection any longer?

It''s all very convenient, but I find something cold in all this efficiency - as if the technology is becoming more important than the art being delivered. 

The Pie Man Cometh

Strange times we live in, when the political circus of the Murdochs interview was briefly upstaged by a custard-pie wielding numpty.  Sadly, this wasn't a publicity stunt bringing attention to a reboot of Tiswas (reference for the kids, there) but rather a very pathetic lapse in security.
You can't get aboard a flight to the Canary Islands without first relinquishing your bottle of Buxton spring and your Head & Shoulders, yet for the highest profile media event of the decade someone managed to waltz in with a tin of shaving foam and a paper plate.  Wonder where next for the copper who belatedly 'leapt' into action to confront the attacker?

Cops v Aliens

Been watching both Falling Skies and Southland over the past couple of weeks.  The first is a show set following an alien invasion of Earth.  And humanity lost.  Now the survivors flee from the space monsters in the hopes that they can regroup and fight back.  The second is a cop show set in LA.  It features an ensemble of police officers, tracing their cases. 

On the face of it Falling Skies sounds like an exciting, fairly original SF show - we've skipped the invasion and gone straight into guerrilla warfare.  A chance perhaps to delve into contemporary issues whilst delivering some high octane alien splatting .  Southland meanwhile is just another cop show.   Like there was anything left to say in this genre after Hill Street Blues.

The surprise for me is that Falling Skies is so, well, dull.  The alien mayhem is OK (although nothing you haven't seen if you have even a nodding acquaintance to Predator or Robocop or Terminator or War of the Worlds).  The rest is just flat - unconvincing dialogue spoken (or shouted) by unconvinced actors. 

On the other hand Southland is just a joy.  It's dramatic, engaging, enervating, moving.  There's little exposition - you're thrown into the action, piecing together cases with the cops.  It makes you work and rewards you with fully rounded characters and vivid scenarios.  As for the regular shoot outs - they're visceral, violent and adrenaline fuelled. 

Ultimately, these cops kick alien ass.

You're hired

After 11 weeks of tasks, tears and tantrums, Alan Sugar finally settled upon his new apprentice - who turned out to be a bloke who doesn't shave and who has invented both a chair and a nail file - hugely optimistic ventures given that these items had previously been invented. Lord S handed over a quarter of mill to Tom and they will now go into business together.  Given that as he is pitching in with a quite sizable amount of his time and money I was a little surprised that he couldn't be bothered to actually interview the candidates himself, instead leaving it down to a bunch men in bad suits and a woman in a tie dyed blouse.