Disappointed

From an article here:

Concern has been raised for the wellbeing of a former mental health patient who has been selected as a contestant for The Apprentice.

Jadine Johnson, 27, has reportedly been cleared to take part in the reality show alongside 15 other high-flyers for the chance to win a £100,000 job working for Sir Alan Sugar.

But the senior financial advisor from Middlesex, who hopes the programme will win her a “real life,” was sectioned under the Mental Health Act four years ago, The Sun reported.

The concern from charities is compounded because the third series will offer the “most gruelling and punishing tasks yet” the Amstrad chairman told the BBC yesterday.

Yet the corporation is said to have dismissed the alarm, saying each contestant has been screened to ensure their suitability for the 12-week show, dubbed the “job interview from hell.”

The reassurance hasn’t silenced one mental health charity, which has demanded more scrutiny than just an initial screening.

A MIND spokesperson reportedly said: “We would want to ensure that proper psychiatric assessments are carried out on the show.”

Friends of Ms Johnson have apparently added their concern, saying they are “worried” for the single Mum from Harrow, following a “nasty experience” in her previous employment.

Several points spring to mind. Number one, the lack of candidate screening is of no surprise to anyone who has watched any reality TV. That's pretty much par for the course when the aim is to find "characters" - concerns for what causes the outrageous to act as they do will always be secondary to the little light in the producers' eyes as they imagine the headlines that could be generated.

More importantly, though, the swiftness of mental health charities to chime in somewhat disappoints me. I'd have liked to see a quote from MIND that went something like this:

"We welcome the participation of Ms Johnson in a high-profile show like The Apprentice, and, in a world in which one in four of us will face mental ill-health at some point in our lives, we see her inclusion as a sign that the stigma attached to such conditions is fading. Ms Johnson serves as an example that people can recover from their illness and be a positive and successful part of the modern work-force, and we wish her every success."

That would be rather more helpful to everyone who knows that admitting to mental health issues is a surefire way to fast-track your job application into the waste-paper basket. There's no mention as yet of this story on their website, so perhaps the full statement was rather more encouraging and supportive. I certainly hope so.

I still reserve the right to call Ms Johnson a nutter at a later point in the series if need be, by the way. Takes one to know one and all that...

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Minor Gripe

Dear Auntie Beeb,

Please please please desist with your annoying habit of starting Doctor Who earlier than the advertised broadcast time.
As I was already aware of this quirk, I tuned in this evening at 6.57pm, three minutes ahead of when it was due to start, but, alas, I wasn't early enough.
I'd rather not have to sit through most of whatever crappy light entertainment bollocks precedes it in order to avoid a truncated viewing experience, so stop misbehaving.

Yours,
A License fee payer

p.s. If you could ask David Tennant to turn down the gurning a notch, I'd appreciate that too.

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Songs for Europe

Eurovision beckons once more, and the UK 's entry seems awfully familiar. And not just because Scooch were basically the Tesco Value Steps.
This is Scooch performing their Song of Europe winning Flying The Flag

And this is the opening credits to the sadly short-lived Scottish sitcom The High Life

The High Life was written by and starring Forbes Masson and Alan Cumming (before he buggered off to Hollywood and Broadway). Coincidentally, in one episode, the boys tried to become Scotland's Song For Europe entry with the fabulously-named Pif Paf Pof

And on a "comedy shows do Eurovision" theme, this is a pretty good excuse to revisit the unparalleled genius of Father Ted. Neil Hannon's finest hour, it's My Lovely Horse

Ooh, dilemma

What to watch - the second half of Italy v Scotland, or the new series of The Apprentice? Tough one...



Edit: The Apprentice won out, it being pretty clear by that stage how the game would end. In a rather good review over here, Andrew Collins describes the first candidate to be fired, Andy Jackson, as looking "like Frank Sidebottom without wearing a papier mache head". I'll let you be the judge:










Uncanny, isn't it?
While I'm vaguely on the subject, I shall miss his badinage with Richard Herring now that Mr Collings has departed from 6Music. The station's getting a bit too samey for my liking, too fixated on corporate identity and other such things which matter not a jot when you just want to hear interesting people playing good tunes on the wireless. Ah well, I'll just listen to yet more BBC7 instead. Old comedy shows and dramas rock! (well, some of 'em creak a little, truth be told)

Gerry and Ian. sitting in a tree...

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Show Me The Funny

Family Guy: never knowingly amusing

I like The Simpsons. I like South Park. I like King of the Hill. Even American Dad can occasionally prove intermittently amusing. But Family Guy? People like this? Really? They laugh? What at? Unpleasant characters, dull storylines, endless pointless and stultifyingly unfunny cutaways - it's hideous, just hideous...

It's a family affair

So, as the self-appointed family historian, I've been working on the family tree for a few years now. Some lines are easier than others (the McKennas refuse to reveal their whereabouts prior to 1919, whereas unlikely as it may seem, my Smiths were an absolute dream). I've got notes scattered across about eight different notepads, a growing collection of certificates and census results downloaded from Scotland's People, and at least some of it compiled in my favourite of the many genealogical programs catering for the increasing interest in family origins.

I do, however, have a problem. A while ago, the PC had a hissy fit and needed a complete reboot (it's since been upgraded - well, in a did-it-myself-cobbled-together kind of way, anyway). Naturally, I hadn't backed up the family tree stuff beforehand, so months of work went swiftly down the drain. I'm only just starting to get into it all again, and I've found a little anomaly.

My great-grandfather was a chap named Peter Milne Tough. His parents were John Tough and Mary Pringle Smith, and I have details of their marriage, and her family quite a few generations back. I also have a copy of John Tough's parents' wedding certificate, and some details on the Milne line. However, somewhere along the line, I've also acquired details of another John Tough, born at about the same time. This one was born to a Robert Tough and Ann Ledingham, so, unless the details on John's own wedding day were incorrect (it's not unheard of - I have a black sheep in one line who was being declared dead to census-takers before his time, and whose name is mysteriously replaced or omitted in later years. He worked as a billiard marker, which in the edition of the BBC's genealogy show "Who Do You Think You Are" featuring Jane Horrocks, was explained to be a somewhat disreputable profession. I think there must be more to it than that though; if no nefarious goings-on come to light I'll be a little disappointed), this lot are nothing to do with my family.

Naturally, there's no explanation anywhere in my notes: the names just appear from nowhere, with no explanation of where exactly they are meant to fit. I can only assume that a rogue IGI search turned up a possible birth for my John Tough, and I pursued it to the extent of paying for documentation without stopping to think a little first. Most unlike me, I must say. The moral of the story is - always take clear notes, explain who the hell the people mentioned are, and don't go using up precious credits on Scotland's People before you're sure that the name is the right one. And of course, back up your work. Almost forgot that one. Again.

Addendum: if, by chance, a reader has links to anyone named Johnstone Little, either in Paisley in Renfrewshire, in Dublin, or in Canada, please get in touch, you just found yourself a relation.

Dear Mr Spammer

Congratulations on coming up with the e-mail subject most likely to lead to instant deletion - "James Blunt's Smash Hit"? I think not, my friend...

The best man won

Channel 4. Sunday. Another Pointless List Show.

This one was the 100 Greatest Stand-ups. The list in full is here, and the top ten was as follows:

1. Billy Connolly
2. Peter Kay
3. Eddie Izzard
4. Richard Pryor
5. Harry Hill
6. Bill Hicks
7. Bill Bailey
8. Victoria Wood
9. Chris Rock
10. Ross Noble


The peculiar love of the British public for Peter Kay flummoxes me somewhat, but as least taste and decency triumphed with the anointing of Saint Billy of ComedyBeards.

The ones that got away

There's an article in today's Guardian detailing the books which British adults have failed to finish reading. Amongst their ranks are such worthy tomes as the fourth Harry Potter book, David Blunkett's memoirs and Celebrity Racist Jade Goody's autobiography. Being neither a child nor an idiot, my own list is a little bit different.
There are the books which have been hiding at the back of a bookshelf for years, as yet unopened (Messrs Proust and James, pay attention at the back). There's the "never going to read" gang (Dickens and Melville spring to mind), and there's a few where a cursory glance confirmed that I would not be disturbing the contents any further (Mr Joyce, take your Ulysses and shove it where the sun don't shine; Mr Tolkein, I don't "do" elves thanks very much).
And then there's the poor souls who were abandoned somewhere mid-journey.


Leo Tolstoy - Anna Karenina

I made it past the 250 page mark with Anna Karenina, but it suffered from my habit of having multiple books on the go at any one time. I didn't much care for the main characters in any case, so when unnecessarily convoluted descriptions of Russian farming equipment made an appearance, it went back on the bookshelf.. Doesn't bode too well for War and Peace, frankly, with this supposedly being the simpler of the two.

Jack Kerouac - On The Road

Call me an old fuddy-duddy, but I'd rather read some well-crafted prose, where the author has painstakingly chosen every word for maximum impact. There is power in concision and precision. But try telling that to Mr Keroauc and his "oh look at us, we're so rebellious and free with our doing exactly what every generation before us did but with worse haircuts and more verbiage" friends. Bollocks, the lot of 'em.

James Kelman - A Chancer

I tried, god knows I tried. For those not in the know, James Kelman conveys the gritty reality of working-class Glasgow by eschewing the use of punctuation. I've started this book about ten times, but it's just too painful.

James Ellroy - American Tabloid

I've not given up on this yet. There was just too much information coming at me at once in the opening chapters, next time I'm taking notes...

Annie Proulx - The Shipping News

I was getting along just fine with this one, and reasonably enjoying it, and then I just.... stopped. I blame Kevin Spacey.

F. Scott Fitzgerald - The Great Gatsby

I should like this book. I love the 1920s. I think Fitzgerald himself was a fascinating person, though less so than his formidable wife. I should be able to connect with the writing, and finally finish reading it, but something just won't let me. I really don't get it.

Danny Wallace - Yes Man

Now with this, on the other hand, I know exactly what the problem is. Had this not been a Christmas present, it would not be taking up space in my house. For starters, there are the glowing testimonials: Davina McCall declares "The man's a genius". Richard Madeley tells us "This book is a treat". Then of course, there's the fact that I've seen the guy on TV and been thoroughly underwhelmed. But hey! It's a life-affirming tale of positivity! Written in a painfully convoluted, childish fashion, with every gag stretched out for a good two pages more than it can possibly stand, each new paragraph revealing more layers of smug hatefulness until I just want to get a big knife and stab stab stab Mr Wallace through his self-satisfied little heart. But he's not there, so I just throw the book across the room instead.

Antonia Fraser - Mary Queen of Scots

This seemed like a good bet. Before she got her head chopped off, Mary Queen of Scots had a eventful and dramatic life, rich in material for a biography. But while this is well enough crafted, the writer herself leaves me cold. Unfortunately I had already bought another two hefty tomes (one of them a biography of Marie Antoinette) by the same author before I made that discovery. I can always dip into them when need be, but I won't be reading them from cover to cover.

And finally, a special case: the book I did read, but wish that I hadn't:

Ernest Hemingway - The Old Man and the Sea

Or as I like to call it, "I read The Old Man and the Sea, and all I got was this lousy allegory". My heroine, Dorothy Parker, said that Hemingway "has an unerring sense of selection. He discards details with a magnificent lavishness; he keeps his words to their short path"*. By that criterion, I should be a big fan. I don't like to disappoint Dotty P if I can help it. However, this particular work, while only around 100 pages long, feels much, much longer. Maybe it's just too concise, perhaps it's the load which each phrase is made to carry that makes it such hard work. Or maybe its me.




Nah....

*From a review of "Men Without Women", published in The New Yorker, October 29th, 1927

It's My Blog And I'll Read If I Want To

Good old insomnia, my faithful friend, keeping me up past the dawn chorus...

So: things to do in cyberspace when you're half dead
1. Fire up Pandora, and press skip when it repeatedly tries to convince me that I like Country music

2. Read old stuff on this here blog. Yeah, yeah, mock all you like, I care not a jot. You know what? I happen to quite like some of the gubbins wot I wrote, so nyah! I particularly like this little vignette here - yay me and my half-decent turns of phrase...

And I've found myself a lovely little advertising slogan -

Heavens to Betsie: calling Jimmy Carr a smug, snide, fat-face cunt since 2005

I'm so proud...

What the....?

Well this sounds like a must-see:

Killing Brigitte Nielsen Monday 19 March 2007, Sky Travel – Reality show in which six people are flown to Greece and conned into thinking model Brigitte Nielsen has been murdered.
(Description courtesy of thecustard.tv)

Well, that sounds just thrilling doesn't it? Some people go on holiday, someone tells them a past it celebrity has died, they shrug their shoulders, The End. Still, maybe it'll inspire a new television sub-genre - Celebrity Homicide. Each week, viewers phone in to choose which irritating has-been faces a firing squad, as their fading fame goes out with a bang rather than a whimper. We can but hope...

Stasis

We apologise for this interruption to programming, normal service will resume shortly...

(fyi: my blogger account has been blocked, after someone somewhere (or possibly some software, but I have my theories) decided that this was a spam blog. I had been planning a post on a TV advert for spam fritters, but I think I'll avoid that one now...)