Simon Pearson - minor9th.com

London 2012: it’s all crazy paving and death

posted in Design, Keeping Fit, London

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I’m no artist, and design is not my thing (this site is testament to that), but in the craze over the 2012 olympics logo (which looks like our old patio on speed), people might overlook the fact that the London 2012 landing page is even worse. It’s a complete horror featuring an eye-bleeding swatch of web-safe-but-not-really-safe colours alongside fonts you wouldn’t expect anywhere other than on a printed suicide note.

Conversely, apart from a quiet mention of the new logo in the news section the main London 2012 site fails to have any serious, strong branding anywhere in sight.

Slightly related:

• Guardian (2004): Olympic games may not benefit London
• Guardian (2007): Olympics are costly, but regeneration is priceless
• Diamond Geezer: “Don’t worry, we’ve checked that the final logo passes all known quality thresholds”
• B3ta: It’s amazing what you can do with no proper image creation software

Not the fortunate ones

posted in London, Music

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Straight men of the world: do you listen to Cyndi Lauper at full volume on the tube? Do you just want to have fun? You big Girl?

London in the spring

posted in Food, Life, London

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23°C in Ealing today, so the first 99 of the year was consumed.

Things I noticed whilst buying my sugar high:

• A medium 99 with a flake and a little bit of strawberry goop now costs £1.60.
• Ice cream men all look the same: curly mullet and massive hands.
• Strawberry goop still not on sale as a delicious treat by itself apart from in supermarkets (where it’s not the same anyway) Darn.

Non-starter For Ten

posted in Life, London, Pub

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In true grown-up-before-our-time fashion, us Ealing folk have been regularly partaking in a local pub quiz under the genius name of Crouching Woman, Hidden Cucumber for nearly a year. It mainly entails us ending up with a middling score (apart from weeks when there are questions on The Wizard of Oz) and listening to the quizmaster mispronounce all sorts of basic phrases such as ‘Leicester’ and ‘cheese’.

Many a happy Monday evening was enjoyed until the pub introduced a league. A bloody league. The smell of competition drove the hardcore regulars wild: they started sneaking home from work at lunchtime in order to bag a table before the points-hungry masses turned up, leaving us tardy city-types scrabbling for discarded barstools at 8pm. Alas, this week the pub reached capacity, and we had to settle for a non-trivial pint a few doors down instead, where the barmaid was mostly absent and the seat in the corner smelt of sick.

It’s not the winning, it’s the taking part that counts, eh? Right. Whatever.

FLOOMPCHK

posted in London

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Sinister trees in Walpole Park, on Flickr.

According to Robyn, “floompchk” is officially the sound that snow makes underfoot.

Kinky.

News from the Sky

posted in London

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Upon hearing of the tornado in Kensal Rise, that bastion of intelligent broadcasting, Sky News, were overheard interrogating a meteorologist:

• Newsreader: You’re a weatherman, why didn’t you tell us this was coming?
• Weatherman: ummm…

I suppose the newsreader then went on to ask the weatherman if he could conjure up a lightning strike to punish him for the error of his ways…

Never mind, Mark Lamarr

posted in Gay, London, Music, Television

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How good is Never Mind The Buzzcocks these days? Last night’s episode with John Barrowman and Daniel Be-ding-ding-ding-field was a masterpiece. Between bouts of coughing, we were all in stitches – even Davros, despite his disdain for all things poofy.

Hoorah Simon Amstell. I wish I’d shaken you by the hand that one time I bumped into you and Miquita in Wagamama…

Incidentally, I’ve been tinkering with Google blog search to find more reaction to last night’s NMTB:

• Naked Blog – “My God how Amstell has revitalised that show, so turgid under Mark (Brylcreem) Lamarr.”
• Rosie T – “How am I supposed to indulge my fantasies of whisking the skinny little indie thing away and englightening him to the benefits of the love of a good woman when he is so flagrant in his gayness? I ask you!”

In unrelated TV news: The IT crowd has been commissioned for an 8-episode second series, and the DVD of the first series has l33t subtitles. R0xx0r!!11

Yet more joyous TV news: Dark Season is available on DVD! Thankyou, BBC for inadvertently answering my prayers.

All change, please

posted in Literature, London, Travel

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This morning, a four-mile journey to work took me an hour and a half. As previously documented, I could have completed the journey a third quicker on foot. So here’s a useful tip for anyone living in London who’s had similarly miserable experience – lousy journeys can be claimed for online using tfl’s customer refunds system. It’s not particularly friendly, clever or easy to find, but at least it exists.

(Journeys such as these have been made more bearable with a gripping novel or two…)

Borough market birthday

posted in Life, London

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Carrots in the sunshine, on Flickr.

So my 23rd birthday will forever be remembered as the one in which four larger-than-life fruit & veg stall workers boomed out Happy Birthday at the top of their lungs at me. I was red as beetroot for about an hour afterward…

• Stealing: Mary‘s ’3 things at the bottom of a post’ thing
• Munching on: toast with redcurrant, rhurbarb and vanilla jam (mmm)
• Revelling in: three-day-weekend goodness

On Superman Returns…

posted in Film, London

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We saw Superman Returns last night at London’s IMAX, and if you’re planning on seeing it then I recommend you browse away IMMEDIATELY because I’m about to spoil everything for you in quite some graphic, cape-tearing detail.

I’d forgotten about the wonder of the Y-front-shaped 3D glasses and the resultant action scenes which occur in your face. Brilliant. The music was rousing, Lois was a bit of a feisty madam, and clever with it (except that she’s still fooled by Clark’s not-very-convincing glasses), and the kid – despite having two of the sexiest citizens of Metropolis for parents – still ended up looking like a mini Mark Owen. How did that happen?

Which leads me to another thing – when did Superman have the time between saving old grannies to get Ms Lane up the duff? I know he’s a speedy guy, but surely if he’d been too hasty there’d've been chafing? Either way I’m glad we didn’t have to see the deed. I bet it was all awkward with Superman getting his cape caught on the doorhandle whilst fumbling with Lois’ bra, and Lois struggling with his sewn-on outer pants. And I bet she was a complete skank and had a quick ciggie afterwards too. Bleurgh.

Despite these distressing thoughts, I really enjoyed the film. Every single role was cast perfectly in my eyes, and though it wasn’t particularly mind-shattering, I’m definitely looking forward to the next instalment. I might even go back and watch all the originals again and overcome my paralysing fear of the robot woman in Superman III…