Author: Chris5156

Avatar Words I Hate, Part 4

Words are the foundation of our language, the tools of our communication. As well as being useful to us, they can also be beautiful: the sounds they make and the feelings they evoke are all a fundamental part of the experience of human interaction.

Not all words are like this. Some words are stupid. Like this one.

Tinsel

I like Christmas. I like it an awful lot. I like presents and Christmas dinner and having a tree in the house. Given the warm, pleasant weather we’ve been having lately, with the sun high in the sky and the gentle breeze just keeping it cool enough to go out and enjoy yourself (or, conversely, to stay in and suffer sun guilt), my thoughts have naturally been turning to Christmas lately, and all these things I like about it.

I even like the shiny spangly ropes of gaudy plastic frill that get draped everywhere. I just hate their name. Tinsel. Written down it’s fine, but said out loud it has an unfortunate pairing of a T and an S that give the whole word the irritating sound of someone whispering nearby, or possibly a high-pitched whistling noise made by air escaping from a perished rubber seal on the back of an old fridge. For example. That’s not Christmassy at all. That’s just stupid. And that’s why we need to rename this delightful substance to something better. My suggestion is “spanglestrands”, a word that describes the article in question without making me want to scratch my ears. Perfect.

Avatar Missing a Bean

I was all set. All on track to get my full bean on the Bean Counter for May. Three in the bag, one post still to make on the 31st to bring me up to the requisite number. Had my topic lined up and everything.

All on track, that is, until I got a text to say that there was a free screening of Labyrinth, the David Bowie goblin king spectacular, in a park near me and did I want to go? Well of course I wanted to go, and go I did, forgetting all about my post and my perilously low post count for May.

I’m not telling you I didn’t enjoy Labyrinth. I did. I enjoyed every moment of it. I cheered along with the crowd whenever Bowie’s leggings were on screen (seriously, he might as well be naked from the waist down) and waved my arms in the air through the voodoo song. I shouted “double yellow lorry” at an appropriate moment. It was great. I’m not saying I didn’t enjoy it at all.

I’m just saying that waking up this morning and realising that another pea would be permanently added to my record on the Beans has soured it for me, just a little bit. That’s all.

Avatar Sun Guilt

Today I’m suffering the sun guilt. It’s a condition I first identified last year, and while I haven’t been able to cure myself of it, having a diagnosis is definitely helping.

This is what happens.

You get a sunny day, like today for example. It was 25 degrees here, clear blue skies, sunny, a gentle breeze to take the heat off – just beautiful. It’s been like this for a few days, but I was at work then, and today is a day off. Today is my day off and it’s a sunny, beautiful day. And that’s when the sun guilt strikes.

The sun guilt says: you missed all that nice weather while you were at work. But you’re not at work today. You should do something with it. It would be a waste not to do something with it. But my plans today don’t involve lazing around on a beach, or having a barbecue in the garden I don’t have, or playing beach volleyball with some Brazilians. I have other stuff to do. Non-sunny stuff. And then I feel guilty for wasting the sunny day.

What I realised last year was that actually I’m not very good at sunny days. I get sunburnt easily and hot weather makes me tired and sweaty and I’d always rather be in the shade. Sunny weather is wasted on me. I have to accept that it’s OK not to be doing sunny things just because it’s sunny. I have a life to live and sunny days are wasted on me anyway.

But this is the first one of the year and I’m having a pretty hard time with the sun guilt all the same.

Avatar Week Of The Week: 12-18 October 1975

Back when the New Beans was first envisioned, a solemn pledge was made that we were turning over a new leaf, and that our running jokes of the past would remain there, like fossils in a layer of sediment, under our feet and informing our history but never again to walk the earth.

But some things will not roll over and give in. Some things are stronger than pledges. One such thing is the Week Of The Week, which you, the adoring Beans Fans, have been clamouring to see returned to our hallowed pages ever since we restarted this shizbang. So, here we are at last: a brand new Week Of The Week.

12-18 October 1975

Sunday 12 October 1975
A new women’s marathon world record was set by Jacqueline Hansen, a very fast lady who used her legs to finish a marathon in 2 hours, 38 minutes and 19 seconds.

Monday 13 October 1975
5000 marchers arrive at the New Zealand Parliament, presenting a petition signed by 60,000 people demanding an end to the sale of Maori land.

Tuesday 14 October 1975
Shaznay Lewis, who would go on to be a member of All Saints, is born in London.

Wednesday 15 October 1975
Volume 36, issue 1 of the journal Chemical Physics Letters is published, featuring an interesting article on the interference effects in large angle elastic scattering of chemically reactive systems.

Thursday 16 October 1975
The footballer Hugh Adcock dies. He played for England five times, scoring one goal.

Friday 17 October 1975
The United States Supreme Court voted 7-1 to not assign any decisions to Justice William O. Douglas, who was unwell, after he had been observed falling asleep during cases.

Saturday 18 October 1975
The JB Priestley Library at the University of Bradford was opened by JB Priestley.

Well, that wraps up another astonishing Week Of The Week. Join us next time when we’ll be uncovering more of the momentous events of yesteryear in… WEEK OF THE WEEK!

(audience applauds wildly)

Avatar Your New Favourite Band: Broken Bells

Welcome to the first instalment of what might become a regular music feature. In Your New Favourite Band we take a look at the people behind one of the latest beat combos in the pop charts. This week, please welcome Broken Bells.

Broken Bells in the darkBrooklyn-based pop combo Broken Bells come from Brooklyn in America. On the left is Thatch Heidelberg (left), who plays moody guitar and taps his foot on one of those mad pedal things that records bits of what you’re doing and then plays them back to make loops, you know, KT Tunstall used to use one when she played live, I wonder what happened to her. Heidelberg wears his anorak zipped up to the top because he feels the cold quite easily.

On the right is Winston Forthwright (right), a stage name for a man some will know by his real name (Winston Forthrite) who enjoyed limited success with a country and western EP back in 2008 titled Oh My Long Lost Darling’s Shoes. Forthwright provides lead vocals for Broken Bells, his soulful high-pitched voice almost inaudible at times except to dogs, and accompanies songs with his giant five-foot tambourine and sometimes the kazoo. He generates a much greater amount of body heat and prefers to wear his coat unbuttoned at the top.

The power behind the throne is the unspoken third member, legendary producer and DJ Nizzle who is responsible for crafting the chart-friendly pop beat sounds of Broken Bells and whose slick production and ear for a top pop number have seen them play some of the biggest stages in Brooklyn, America, where they are from. Nizzle is notoriously reclusive except when playing sold-out Brooklyn club nights and producing seven or eight albums a year, sometimes under his own name and sometimes in collaborations with other artists in outfits like Gnarled Banksy and Thunderkecks.

Broken Bells is his latest exploration of the limits of pop beat combos and, with Forthwright and Heidelberg, he looks set to triumph again.

Avatar Words I Hate, part 3

It’s becoming traditional (come on, we’ve been up and running for three months, so anything that’s been running this long definitely counts as a tradition) for me to wheel out another canister of literary vitriol around the start of the month. And seeing as April is looming up ahead of us I’d better get cracking with… another Word I Hate.

This one is short, because the case can be made very quickly and nobody can argue against it.

Fayre

This word doesn’t even need to exist. We have all the words with this sound and this meaning already: we have fair, meaning an outdoor event or celebration, and we have fare, meaning food and drink and perhaps generous hospitality. Fayre is sometimes used in place of both these perfectly good word by idiots who think it lends their temporary Christmas market or their roast beef serving pub some kind of charming air of tradition and jollity. But it doesn’t do that, any more than calling your newsagent Ye Olde Shoppe gives it medieval heritage. It just makes you an idiot who has called your venture a stupid name for misguided reasons. So stop it. You cretin.