Cemetry Gates

Stop me if you've heard this one before but I caught this joke on Radio Four. A Frenchman, Italian, Brit and German are discussing who has got the most beautiful language. The Brit says: "Look at the word 'butterfly'. It is so descriptive, both of the silky, buttery wings and practical as it tells you what it does.'
'Non' says the Frenchman. 'Papillon, the French for butterfly is more beautiful. You can whisper it 'papillon, papillon' to suggest the gentle beauty of a butterfly.'
'Hey, waddabout oura worda for butterfly, farfalle' said the slightly stereotyped Italian, 'you say farfalle, farfalle and it describes the beating of the wings on the wind.' They all nod at each other.
The German pipes up: 'Und vat exactly is wrong wiz Schmetterling!'
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I'm going to have to change my will. Thanks to John Lewis. I'd always intended to go out to the strains of The Smiths and I'd chosen two, perhaps obvious, tunes from the brilliant miserabalists.
One was 'There Is A Light That Never Goes Out' and the other was 'Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want This Time.'
The latter was chosen because I love it, it's quite a short tune, and it would piss off my family and many of my friends who hate The Smiths.
My wife has always said that she'd have the last laugh by playing Charles and Eddie instead and there is nothing I could do about it.
However, John Lewis has done it instead by using Please Please etc for their latest 'tear-jerking' Christmas ad. Morrissey, ever contrary, is 'said to be' delighted.
I've no objection to Smiths tunes being used in ads. The band is, to all extents and purposes, a middle class combo. For rebellious teenagers it says nothing to them about their life. But when everyone from John Lewis to David Cameron now claim to be influenced by them, then you know the game is up.
So it's open season for all advertisers to use them. BUPA could have Girlfriend in a Coma, Tesco can have Shoplifters of the World Unite and those awful Halifax ads featuring 'real' members of staff can have Some Girls Are Bigger Than Others.
And if we're going to swap roles between Smiths and advertising jingles, then for my funeral, I choose this:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wYj5o4kQsXs
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Did anyone see James Murdoch in the select committee thingy this week? And if so, did your eyes glaze over?
I tried to get a verbatim version of what he said at one point because, I swear, I had no idea what he was talking about.
It was one of those questions where you could say yes, no or I don't know.
So he said something on the lines of: 'In response to that, may I see that at all times I was reliably informed by, if you will, the relevant sources, in mitigating the circumstance of the situation which was wider spread than we had, at first, been led to believe, if you will, and as such, I'm confident that had it been of relevance then I would have acted upon the information that was not available at the time but has subsequently become pertinent to what was to subsequently occur. If you will.'
At least, I think so. Now James Murdoch is the son and heir of quite a lot in particular, a giant corporation which - whatever your political views may be - deals in one major area. Communication.
Whether it is information via Dow Jones or entertainment through The Simpsons, his empire is about communication.
So why can't he communicate? I'll tell you why. Because he spends most of his life surrounded by rich, preppy nerds with MBAs from US universities (yes, I know I've banged on about this before) who sit in meetings talking in this strange, alien version of English as we know it.
Which is fine in high tech video conferencing meetings or one of those get togethers where they all wear open necked shirts and drink espresso, but not in real life.
I mean, for heaven's sake, he even made Louise Mensch look bright.
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I have absolutely nothing against videogames. I just don't really do them. I'm happy enough with games of patience.
But if they were around when I was young then I'm sure I would have spent hours shooting people or playing football on a screen instead of in Valentines Park.
But they weren't and so our sprained wrists were more likely to be down to posters of Charlie's Angels than X-Box.
But sometimes I despair. A teenage friend of one of my kids queued up during the night so he could buy something called Call of Duty.
Then he got home and played it until, by 7am, he'd 'done it' and then posted the results on Facebook and YouTube.
There's something very odd in this and I know I'm not alone in thinking this.
The kid (he's 17 I think) is a genius on a computer apparently. You can only hope he eventually uses his power for good, and not dressed as an alien at Star Trek conventions.
Live long and prosper....Solly