Ted Max

"Enough already" 2011 - Ted Max

Well Mr Ben, my spies tell me that the journey from the conspiratorial "bottle of fizz and a fumble" in the back room of Green & Blue to gut-wrenching, phlegm-drenched IM chats at 4am is a short and bitter one. No use lying about it.

Won't someone else please do the Whole Lotta Ros? gag?

Your mate and his wife were going to play the Armadillo? Impressive. Oh right. I think Jeremy and Otta are right. 1990s: he - Oasis and curry; she - Angels and a kebab. Then, later, when they've moved to London and taken their drugs and spent a couple nights a year at The Fridge, they've bought a house together over in ED. There's this new band that reminds them of the old days; they like to play the song while they stay in on a Friday night - too tired now to go out. Middle management and middle wage killing them. Just them, the occasional joint perhaps, and Gary. Five years later, she's moved abroad "for work". They haven't told their parents. He's all snot, used underpants, and room temperature Vodka. He Skypes her at 2am - early evening for her - and she's online but she doesn't answer. Still, at least he's kept the house in ED, and the Forum log-in.

D_C has the spirit of it, I think. Jeremy, I fear Jar of Hearts is a joke, but a very public one. Otta, yes, good shout. And actually while we're here I think Keep Bleatin' would fit the mood too. Magpie and Salsaboy, I think you need to indulge a little, let the hygiene slip for a week or two, put on a little weight, wander from room to room wondering how it can be that even the walls and floors seem to hate you. Anyway, I've a feeling our couple's older brothers would have listened to Everybody Hurts BITD whilst eating a kilo of qwik cook pasta 'n' cheap pesto from the corner shop. Their little sisters perhaps digging into You're Beautiful and a gross of Fruit n Nut. All of Coldplay gets an outing, of course.

Who do you think you are? Runnin' 'round leaving scars Collecting your jar of hearts And tearing love apart You're gonna catch a cold From the ice inside your soul So don't come back for me Who do you think you are? Sniffle. So what are we drinking, Edcam, five years later, with that little celebration of "I'm so over you, baby"? Unchilled vodka from the bottle, yesterday's underpants gathering your tears in your lap, A Place in the Bastard Sun on mute in the background?

Good answer, SJ. What do they listen to now? I'm backing La Perri's delightful dirge of the wronged party, Jar of Hearts. Jeremy, good shout but for our doomed couple I'm saying red + pot of supermarket hummus and some of those Thai Chilli flavour Sensations.

over and over in a candlelit room whilst drinking 3/4 of a bottle of Blossom Hill and wondering how it is that Gary Lightbody could so accurately reflect their emotional state. Where are they now?

Or maybe a strategic looting of Buck House, so that the Windsors can look the East End in the eye again. throughout the Second World War Queen Elizabeth and her children shared the dangers and difficulties of the rest of the nation, including rationing and 'digging for victory'. She was in Buckingham Palace when it was bombed in September 1940, announcing afterwards that she would now be able to look the East End in the eye.

If there was a petition to ask that all benefits should be handed out on a daily basis at 08:30 in the morning, thereby giving the recipients at least an idea of what life should be like, then I'd sign that. What life should be like and what it unfortunately has to be like, for the majority of us, are surely different things. But yes, an insight into the unrelenting drudgery the rest of us endure is sure to do the trick for those who are unwilling, rather than merely unable, to get a job. Perhaps if we could get someone to appraise them in a half-assed fashion every six months and explain to them that their benefits have been frozen for another year due to the poor performance of "that lot in sales", then they'd really get inspired.

Come on now. Here's a list of Peckham (and one or two Dulwich and Camberwell) art galleries - and I've attached a map as well, because I want people to think I don't spend all my time watching repeats of Rosemary & Thyme on ITV3. In fact I also spend some of it pretending to know shit about the Peckham art scene. http://www.southlondonartmap.com/galleries/area/peckham (Brendan, all the original Edwardian bedrooms in Penge are designed so the marital beds would lie exactly in line with the rising sun on the Summer solstice. And Parish records show that during the years of the first world war, not a single male baby was baptised in the area.)

Students in trilbies drawing on the walls of abandoned portakabins. That's the sort of thing we're after, I think. The trendies are moving in though, and the scene is moving on. Think of the Meatwagon/easy trajectory and extend to the creative output of Camberwell CofA and Goldsmiths.

"The Decemberists are an indie folk rock band from Portland, Oregon, United States, fronted by singer/songwriter Colin Meloy."

Much better, Hugey. Please keep this up and parents' evening will be much more pleasant for them, you and me.

Hugey's being a dick. It's quite clear what Ridgley is trying to drive at. Ridgely has said that the nature of the carnival has changed due to: a) the original organisers no longer being involved b) the demographic character of the area itself changing c) an increased commercialism around the event I wouldn't say Ridgely has even expressed an opinion about this beyond "mixed feelings". Hugey has decided that Ridgley is indulging in "racism and class war". Is talking "rubbish" and doesn't understand the history of the event. He's being a dick. If he can't lower himself to express himself in a less antagonistic manner, he's going to get told to F off by people who can't be bothered wading through his angry-balloonisms.

I fear that the irritable dirigible is once more approaching a maximum inflation event.

Which way did you come? I did A45 then B3983 but avoiding the temporary lights at Yaleham by looping round Great Hadenough. I get a better mpg that way and am less likely to allow the suicidal thoughts to surface whilst waiting in the queue to turn right at the old World Of Leather....

The Hour was The Ninety Minutes for me. Fell asleep half way through the second ep. Apparently, though, the prog is a BBC pinko plot to portray the 1950s (where thwarted ambition and unearned deference were the order of the day, and women chose and expected to be housewives) as something other than a social nirvana. (cf Mad Hitch in the DM, can't be arsed to link) I like those BBC4 biopics that, with great elegance and care, absolutely kebab some dead public figure who cannot sue - like Blyton, Hattie Jacques, Fanny C etc Dame Fonteyn came out of hers quite well, though (her mum not so much).

Kingy isn't going to be happy... One of these proposals will address limited private copying. As things stand, 90 percent of the country is ? mostly unwittingly ? breaking the law by ripping music files from CDs and copying them to devices such as the iPod. The government said in its response that this situation "brings the law into disrepute". "It is not appropriate simply to tolerate unlawful private copying where it is not commercially damaging," the government said. It will now not only legalise limited private copying, but also block any attempts in licensing contracts to undermine this new exception. http://www.zdnet.co.uk/news/intellectual-property/2011/08/03/uk-copyright-system-set-for-massive-overhaul-40093599/

Ladiesngennlmn, *Bob* on alto PhotoShop...

I'm giving that a special "post solo" murmur of applause *Bob*.

http://i52.tinypic.com/2hcoroy.jpg (I made it tiny, like the thread said)

Say Yes To A Waitrose FuckHouse

Believe me, if I could have said, "Look at that monument, it looks a bit like a big set of stumps" without seeming to make light of the plight of an oppressed people, then I would have done.

I think it's an original Snorky.