Monday 22 November 2010

Making plans for Nigel

Nigel Havers complains there wasn't enough stimulating conversation in I'm A Celebrity. He was there with Stacey Solomon, Linford Christie, Lembit Opik and some fat woman from daytime television that even I haven't heard of.
What did he expect, a debate about self determinism versus pre determinism and whether or not the self actually exists?
I didn't see him start any conversations either. I think the trouble was that he once starred in an Oscar winning movie and looked around to realise he'd descended down more layers of hell than anyone else there. The others haven't fallen so far.
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There are only 26 sperm donors in the whole of Scotland. Officially that is.
Who says you don't learn something from reading newspapers.
That one's in the Daily Record. A newspaper in English but not all the time. They say jags instead of jabs, neds instead of chavs (or yobs or hoodies) and once they used a pun on the phrase 'we're all Jock Tamson's bairns' in a headline for one of our stories (I forget what the story was about).
This was pre-Google and, I'm not kidding, we had to phone them up to ask them what the headline meant. Once I'd got past the inimitable Derek Masterton's opening gambit: "Aye Solly, you fat southern c**t", I found out it meant something along the lines of  'we're all the same under the skin.'
 Of course we're not. The Scots are completely different. And thanks God for that otherwise we wouldn't have Charlie Rae, Iain Banks (my mate, not the writer) and the late great Jimmy Airlie, among others.
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Mind you, I'm not so sure about Rod Stewart. Anyone who isn't Scottish but wears a kilt immediately joins that list of 'never trust anyone who...'
You know, like men whose eyebrows meet in the middle or who wear bow ties when not at formal occasions or genuinely like Harry Potter and Dr Who even though they are grown up. And then there's those who don't own a television.
It's mainly a broadsheet thing but The Guardian in particular. You get a review or a preview of a TV programme or a story about ratings or schedules and one of the online comments comes from some dick declaring: 'TV rots the mind, I threw out my flickering goggle box years ago and got a life.'
It makes you wonder why he went to so much trouble reading a review of a TV show if there was never any chance of seeing it and then going to the added trouble of writing in to tell everyone that he doesn't have a TV and so didn't see the programme that they are all talking about! But, while he's at it, why not pretend to be intellectually superior to everyone else there. When he's not of course.
There is something horrendously snobby about people who haven't got a television. Of course there's something horrendously snobby about a lot of people who have got a TV too. Like those who look down their nose at me because I happen to like I'm A Celebrity and Beauty and the Geek (honestly, it's hilarious).
 But people without a TV like to tell everyone about it and make out that because of it, they are so much better/cleverer/more socially adjusted than the rest of us. They're not. They're just slightly weirder and more self obsessed. And they really have very little of interest to say.
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I went to lunch at the house of an Israeli friend of mine on Saturday. Also there was her very good friend who is Scottish (another one!) but also runs a charity for Palestinian orphans. And so a variety of views were shared over a few glasses of wine and decent food without the need for a great big wall in the middle, a blockade, launching missiles or George Galloway.
I mentioned to someone that this bloke ran a charity for Palestinian orphans and he said 'huh, I see he doesn't do one for Jewish orphans.'
Which is a bit like meeting someone who has cured cancer and berating them for not finding the cure for Alzheimer's.
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I know there's a lot of self-righteous indignation about the man who won £56 million on the lottery and has had to pay £2 million to his ex-wife ten years after she ran off with another man.
This is something I know a little about. The money isn't for his wife, it's for his 13-year-old daughter. He probably didn't have a clean break settlement. And it amounts to four per cent of his winnings (roughly) - even I know maintenance payments are a lot more than four per cent of a man's wealth. He's still got £54 million left and gets to see the kid. It's hardly the kind of issue to make him dress up as Spiderman.
Peace and love to all....Solly

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