BP's Forward Thinking

This is from a 1999 BP advert....

Mince

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It Was 30 Years Ago Today (Volume II)

Happy Birthday to Mrs Wife, who's now as old as her husband.

City For Sale

The long-running battle over Aberdeen's proposed City Square development took another turn yesterday, with the city council voting in favour of allowing the plans to progress.

 

Those opposed to the development haven't taken it well, claiming that the process was undemocratic - despite the fact that the democratically-elected councillors voted on the proposal. Their claim is that the results of a public consultation - where a majority of a tiny proportion of the city's residents voted against the plans - were ignored.

 

As a result, one disenfranchised member of the electorate (who was probably also opposed to the Union Square development and will not doubt be campaigning vehemently against Donald Trump's golf course plans) has listed the city for sale on Ebay.

 

If you can't beat them, greet about it until the cows come home.

What's New?

Once again, I'm concerned at my recent music buying, and I'm becoming increasingly aware that I'm buying less and less new music.

The last ten albums I bought were:

The Black Keys - Attack & Release
Fleetwood Mac - Then Play On
Ultrasound - Everything Picture
The Highwaymen - The Highwayman Collection
John Mayall & The Blues Breakers - Blues Breakers With Eric Clapton
The Who - Who Are You
The Who - The Who By Numbers
Fairport Convention - Unhalfbricking
Gram Parsons - GP/Grievous Angel
Lee "Scratch" Perry - Soul Fire

Not one of them released this year. Only The Black Keys album was even released this century.

Am I losing my touch or spreading my roots further into classic blues, country, folk and reggae?

Meet The New Boss

It was impossible to escape the post-election coverage last night, much to Mrs Wife's disdain, she being of the opinion that Eastenders and Heston Blumenthal's Mental Kitchen (or whatever it's called) are of far more importance than who'll be running the country over the next five years.

 

I thought Gordon Brown's resignation speech was extremely dignified given the circumstances, and that David Cameron's address from the steps of 10 Downing Street smacked of schadenfreude.

 

Looking ahead, I can't help but think that the Liberal Democrats have cut their own throats. By sliding into bed with the Tories, they've made a mockery of their supposed LIBERAL tendencies (the clue's in the title Mr Clegg), and if they think they stand a real chance of altering Tory policy, I fear that they may be sorely mistaken.

 

Maybe I'll be proved wrong, and the first coalition government this country has seen in 70 years will herald a new age in politics.

 

But the overwhelming feeling is that something, somewhere, went wrong.

 

The next year is going to be interesting though, and this is only the second change of government of my lifetime. Worryingly, there's a certain sense of deja vu as "Dave" saunters into Number 10, six months younger than when the man I despise more than any other on the planet did the same thing in 1997.

 

Hopefully we won't have to endure 10 years of his Return To Blair routine though.

 

(As a final aside, am I the only person who thinks that Samantha Cameron is more attractive than a Prime Minister's wife ought to be? Fair enough, Sarah Brown and Cherie Blair aren't much competition, but still....)

Dark Humour

I received an email today that purported to be a true story from Campbeltown.

Apparently, a business in the town has the following poster in its window:

"We would rather do business with 1,000 Al Qaeda terrorists than with one single British soldier".

While on the face of things that would appear to be a fairly antagonistic message to display in the window of a British business, the email claims that the business in question is....

....a funeral parlour.

So, Argyll residents, is that a true story?

Bent Shots?

I saw this photograph this afternoon on Who Ate All The Pies? when I should have been putting together some cutting edge market analysis.

First off, I don't care whether Zlatan Ibrahmiovic and Gerard Pique are the world's most high-profile gay footballers. What got me thinking is that if they are they're the ONLY gay footballers I'm aware of playing at the very top of the game.

In fact, the only other gay footballer I can remember is Justin Fashanu, who of course tragically committed suicide in 1998.

In the west, somewhere between two and thirteen per cent of the population is estimated to be gay. Say, for argument's sake, that the figure is ten per cent. Then, presume that each Premiership club has a 20-man squad. That's 40 gay men.

Even assuming that only two per cent of men are gay. That's eight gay Premiership footballers. Even suppose that the macho world of football has only half as many gay employees as society at large. That's four Premiership footballers.

It seems strange that, when football has largely managed to shake off the worst of its racist, misogynistic, xenophobic and bigoted bad days, no gay players have publicly come out.

Will Ibrahimovic and Pique be the first?

Foreign Food

I read this article on The Guardian's website recently, and couldn't help but smile.

 

It's definitely a bit of a gaff to have a recipe call for "salt and freshly ground black people" in your latest cookbook.

 

Because everyone knows that tagliatelle tastes much better with a few dessicated Asians on top.