Musical masochism time... if anyone knows of anyone with a spare ticket to this, please ask them to contact me.

07813 290065 / richard.leader at gmail.com

Thanks

Habitual trawlers of StreetView will have beaten me to this, however...

President Obama flew into London today for the G20 summit – and he’s staying in Winfield House, the official residence of the US ambassador to Britain.

It’s a grand property on the Outer Circle of Regent’s Park – and has the second biggest enclosed garden in inner London, behind that of Buckingham Palace. It’s situated close to the Regent’s Park Mosque and a host of other official residences; a sensitive area, certainly.

Clearly, driving around in a black car with a large camera mounted atop a four-foot pole is an efficient way of attracting attention. Particularly when outside the residence of the official envoy and occasional put-me-up buddy of the President of the United States - as evidenced by these StreetView shots of the Google car getting pulled over by Police opposite the entrance to Obama's mate's driveway:





Meanwhile, to mark the occasion of the G20 summit tomorrow, I plan to come into work armed with a sturdy, long, pointy umbrella with a useful crook handle - whether it's raining or not.

Landed somewhat dramatically at La Guardia yesterday amidst wind that had shut the airport for much of the previous day and seen half the morning's other flights from Toronto cancelled or turned back.

The bridges across the East and Hudson rivers had been closed and a freight train had been overturned. Learned later from CNN that an airliner on a similar route had crashed upstate. Probably wouldn't have bothered with the trip down here if I'd known this a few hours earlier.

In retrospect I was glad I didn't possess this information during the approach, as my plane bounced, thumped and shuddered its way towards a small runway within a vast built-up area.

Christmas once again; so, what's happened this year?

First, my usericon has become a good two years out of date and possibly renders me liable to prosecution under the Description of Goods and Services act.

Second, and contrary to the general global economic gloom, it's been my most rewardinig year ever - in a number of ways, tangible and intangible.

Third, I've mended some bridges and confronted some ogres - as opposed to mending some ogres and confronting some helpful bridges, which has been latterly my way.

Fourth, I've turned thirty - a harrowing happening if ever there was one. That said, I'm finding the gravitas that accompanies age a useful ally in these uncertain times.

What plans for the New Year? First, finally purchase a London property; second, live healthier; third, sustain and enhance a core of inner authenticity that has lately felt so life-enhancing.

2009: bring it on.

From the good old days when banks simply used to occasionally lose several billions through a rogue trader:

French trader was forced to work 30 hours a week

"What the bloody hell do you mean you haven't got my ticket?", shouted Richard to the polite lady at Eurostar, before legging it through check-in and boarding the 08:06 to Brussels from St. Pancras.

Such was the jolly start to my day. Fortunately breakfast on board resolved much of the unpleasantness, as did the unimpeded high-speed sprint towards our European capital.

HS1, as the Channel Tunnel Rail Link is now known, is indeed a wonder. In the time it would take you to reach Heathrow and get to the front of the "no liquids over 100ml" queue, you can be in the heart of Paris or Brussels. Furthermore, when travelling in the spacious part of the train you get waited on hand and foot and get to practice your appalling French at people who are paid to not correct your pronounciation.

Thundering past Lakeside Shopping Centre at 155mph is definitely the optimal way to experience the popular South Essex retail destination.

What's happened recently? Had a fairly satisfactory fight in Westminster with two chaps who wanted to steal my Breitling. The response time of Belgravia Police Station is to be commended - by the time Her Majesty's finest arrived one was in need of medical attention and achieved the double stigma of being both arrested and ambulanced away. Later I got a lift home in a Police car. Splendid. That's what I pay my taxes for. The one that got away got my blackberry though - and a rather nice leather bag. He left his mate to take a clobbering - most dishonourable.

Got a spanking new job in the City. Going rather well.

Ever notice how in Starfleet everyone’s record is always “exemplary” – it’s sickeningly preppy.

The high-ranking officer never says “Only 6 months in that posting – what happened?” or “I hear you fucked that one up!”.

“Your scores at the Academy were average – and you graduated around the middle of your class.”

Boring swots.

This made me laugh - spotted today on a German bank's website; it's the cover of their annual report.



Credit to the creative team who got that one past.

George MacDonald Fraser has died.

6.8 on the Richter scale, no less.

The house shook a little, which lasted for about a minute, and there were some unusual creaking noises as the structure adjusted. And the lights flickered melodramatically, as they do in films. However, everything here's built to earthquake-standard so there was no cause for alarm. It was as though the floor was momentarily sitting on a layer of jelly.

It happened near Gisborne - 70 miles away on the east coast of New Zealand's north island.

For those who won't be offended by an explanation, 7.0 is deemed "major" on the logarithmic scale by which these things are measured. However, because it's logarithmic it means that those 0.2 points represent a significant increase in amplitude. For example, a quake of 8.0 is approximately 20 times worse than a 7, in terms of equivalent TNT yield - and one of 12.0 would, literally, split the earth in half.

Facebook is like switching on Cable and watching whichever episode of Friends is currently playing. For this reason I've deactivated mine, at least until I find a better use for it.

Sure, it's good for a few minutes' fun – and few don’t find it addictive. It doesn't tax your brain too much so you can pretty much dip in and out at will. On Facebook you can make a contribution with just a few clicks – or, if you're feeling eloquent, you can even type something (provided it starts with "is").

Yet that's my problem. It doesn’t require any effort – and, from what I see, few bother to exceed this minimum.

Livejournal is different. You actually have to structure a thought – whether it's about the situation in Pakistan or what colour you’re painting your room. And that's what makes LJ interesting – both to read and post to. You're getting something that took a few minutes to put together - a bit more meaningful than just a transient whim.

Facebook has ceased to interest me, for now. Maybe that'll change but in the meantime I'll be popping back here more often to indulge myself by writing complete sentences.

It's Tony Wilson's funeral today.

Rammstein Split (sort of)



Rammstein's Till Lindemann quits, to be replaced by KMFDM's En Esch.

Interesting. Story here

Fact of the Day

Gordon Brown cannot drive.

I wonder whether Commander Corder was at the COBRA meeting this morning.

Impressive.

Gordon Brown's only been in Number 10 for five minutes and already there are Francis Urquhart-style car bombs littering London.

It would seem the new PM's wasted no time in getting to grips with the Security Services' black operations capabilities.

Doubtless we'll all be told how lucky we are and certain fear mongers (e.g. The Sun) will call for it to press ahead with ID cards, etc.

--

On an aside: It's amusing that this "plot" appears to have been foiled not by MI5's finest but by bouncers at Tiger Tiger.

It suggests that a perfectly adequate (and economical) riposte to the threat of uppity Islamic extremism is a burly skinhead in a dinner jacket.

A fourth-grade teacher asked the children what their dads did for a living.

All the usual answers were given: Fireman, Mechanic, Doctor, Lawyer, etc.

One kid, Justin, was being uncharacteristically quiet. When the teacher prodded him about his father, he replied:

"My father's an exotic dancer in a gay cabaret bar and takes his clothes off in front of other men who put money in his underwear. Sometimes, if the offer's really good, he'll go home with one and stay with him all night for money."

The teacher, shaken by this statement, hurriedly set the other children to work on math problems and then asked Justin, "Is that really true about your father?"

"No", he replied, "he works for the Democratic National Committee and is helping to get Hillary Clinton elected – but I was too embarrassed to say that in front of the other kids."

Film Titles in the Globalized Age



Der Untergang - original German title
Downfall - UK title
The Downfall: Hitler and the End of the Third Reich - US title, spelling it out nice and clearly so as to leave no room for confusion or ambiguity
La Caduta - Gli ultimi giorni di Hitler - Italian title, could also be an ice-cream