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Cultural stuff of the week
Feb. 5th, 2005 11:24 amRadio 3 was on fantastic form with Composer of the Week - The Minimalists - Glass, Reich, Adams and 2 programmes of miscellanea, none of it particularly obscure, but all of it highly listenable. You can't really beat Saturday morning in bed with 2 babies and 2 cats, listening to Music for Airports and O Superman (though I dimly remember that the same scenario minus the babies and cats has other attractions). It'll be up on the Radio 3 website for the next week, or repeated at midnight on the radio all next week (which may mean it'll be available on the website for the next week as well, or may not).
My New Year's resolution to read only books I haven't already read has bitten me in the arse already - as a quick browse through the bookshelves in search of something light to read brought me to Imperial Earth: the only Clarke I possess that I hadn't read. Goodness, it's rubbish - I found myself cheerfully submitting to Play and Learn: The Helicopter for the umpteenth time, as being somewhat better written. In addition, I assumed it was a quasi-juvenile and was then freaked out by the gay sex - it's not that it was remotely explicit, it just played havoc with my expectations, and not in a good way. This is life's way of telling me to return to Edward Gibbon (Him says it's a message that I should read Moby Dick, but (now that I've finally read Perfume) he says that about everything).
I'm sure you've heard far too much about Sideways already - I'd say it wasn't quite as good as the reviews made out but that still leaves scope for it to be pretty damn good. Not too crowded either - the yummy mummy population of Clapham had opted en masse for Meet the Fockers, which was this week's "Watch with Baby" alternative. In their defence, it will be shown again next week, but as it will be up against Ocean's 12, I suspect it may lose out again. I got mugged by a researcher from Woman's Hour on the way in, asking me whether I'd like to take part in a feature on cinema going with tinies next week, but not even the combined charms of Jenni Murray and George Clooney are sufficient to drag me along to Ocean's 12, and I have other things to do.
And I am forced to admit that I am living up to far too many stereotypes by developing a Desperate Housewives addiction. Yes it's not that well written, but it's very watchable and doesn't have any hard-bitten detectives with personal issues (particularly not David Caruso staring into the middle distance wearing "deep" sunglasses).
My New Year's resolution to read only books I haven't already read has bitten me in the arse already - as a quick browse through the bookshelves in search of something light to read brought me to Imperial Earth: the only Clarke I possess that I hadn't read. Goodness, it's rubbish - I found myself cheerfully submitting to Play and Learn: The Helicopter for the umpteenth time, as being somewhat better written. In addition, I assumed it was a quasi-juvenile and was then freaked out by the gay sex - it's not that it was remotely explicit, it just played havoc with my expectations, and not in a good way. This is life's way of telling me to return to Edward Gibbon (Him says it's a message that I should read Moby Dick, but (now that I've finally read Perfume) he says that about everything).
I'm sure you've heard far too much about Sideways already - I'd say it wasn't quite as good as the reviews made out but that still leaves scope for it to be pretty damn good. Not too crowded either - the yummy mummy population of Clapham had opted en masse for Meet the Fockers, which was this week's "Watch with Baby" alternative. In their defence, it will be shown again next week, but as it will be up against Ocean's 12, I suspect it may lose out again. I got mugged by a researcher from Woman's Hour on the way in, asking me whether I'd like to take part in a feature on cinema going with tinies next week, but not even the combined charms of Jenni Murray and George Clooney are sufficient to drag me along to Ocean's 12, and I have other things to do.
And I am forced to admit that I am living up to far too many stereotypes by developing a Desperate Housewives addiction. Yes it's not that well written, but it's very watchable and doesn't have any hard-bitten detectives with personal issues (particularly not David Caruso staring into the middle distance wearing "deep" sunglasses).