Ski Jumping in Hampstead Heath

Hampstead Heath mixed pond, picture by Emily_*

There is a large, green space in the north of London covering 320 hectares, surrounded by posh people and the nouveau riche. Hampstead Heath, as it is called, is normally full of runners, roller bladers and gentlemen looking to frolick around with other gentlemen, but today I learned that in 1950 and 1951 it was a venue for nordic ski jumping.

This useless piece of knowledge came to me in that lovely half-dormant state I normally encounter during 9 – 10am on a Saturday morning, when I listen to the reassuring voice of the Reverend Richard Cole on BBC Radio 4’s ‘Saturday Live’, the closest thing an atheist can come to a religious experience. Apparently a bunch of, ahem, “eccentrics”, from the Central Council of Physical Recreation, alongside the Ski Club of Great Britain and the Oslo Ski Association organised the transport of 45 tons of snow in insulated containers and built a 18 meter ski ramp to showcase the joy of ski-jumping (and have an Oxford vs Cambridge competition of that particular sport).

I think this should be re-instated. With Hampstead Heath’s current transient population of men enjoying ‘alternative lifestyles’, there is a potential glamorous competition in the making that Channel 5 should be delighted to sponsor.

Free Art. Free Music. Pissed off Musicians.

"I think that's a soup kitchen over there"

There’s an interesting discussion going on in – of all places- Germany. The recent rise of the ‘Pirate Party‘ has created a rather heated confrontation between ‘content creators’ (although they prefer to call themselves authors) and the generation that grew up with all of the content that they ever wanted at their fingertips (whether it is via youtube or via illegal file sharing). The whole long burning discussion has gained some urgency with the success of the Pirate Party in two state parliaments. Their manifesto reads:

“[..]we demand not only legalisation, but the explicit encouragement of non-commercial copying, saving, using and accessing of content.”

Now if I were an artist, I would find that quite offensive. I am happy to admit that I have done my fair share of downloading in the early days of the net (with then advent of Napster) but since Apple and Amazon have made it so easy to get hold of legal content, I am happy to pay my share of for the works of my favourite artists. I have a few friends whose livelihood depends on their fans paying for the years they spent in a studio, and I can understand their fury about the proliferation of their blood, sweat and tears on illegal download sites. The digital environment of course gives you a plethora of choices how to distribute your content. I marvelled at Radiohead’s guts to premiere ‘In Rainbows’ as a ‘pay what you like’ download but their success certainly vindicated their decision, but how many bands can actually buy their toast and jam from schemes like this.

 

If you encourage the free distribution of any content, then you will have to accept that all artists will have to become part-time artists, as it is unlikely that the vast majority would be able to live off the fees that people would voluntarily pay. With other words, the amazing breadth of art that the internet is currently showcasing would shrivel and become the domain of the amateurs and the wealthy.

I think the ‘pirates’ have a policy gap there.

Murals in Mile End

Here in the East End, where men are real men, women are real women and small furry creatures from Alpha Centauri are real small furry creatures from Alpha Centauri is a road called ‘Mile End Road’. It’s not a particular nice road, and it’s most prominent features are countless trans fat proprietors, but on one of its nicer corners the lawyers of TV Edwards have their offices. The senior partner of that particular law firm had the excellent idea (remember, we’re talking about lawyers, not a group of individuals gifted with much creativity outside their inventiveness of outrageous fees) to donate one of the office walls to public art. Good on him. He asked a chap called Mychael Barrat to come up with the design and all in all I think he has done rather well.

What do you think?

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Check out who is who here.

Mansion House

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I alight here about once a week to meet the people at my second job. A lovely bunch of coworkers, their place of productivity has recently been moved to a office in Bow Lane, giving me the chance to alight either at Mansion House or St Paul’s. I prefer getting out at Mansion House, but I never really invested a second thought on why it has this particular name.

Picture courtesy of Wikipedia

Turns out it is the official residence of the Lord Mayor and has been there since building finished 1752 and these days is mainly known for HM’s chancellor’s ‘Mansion House speech’ in which he talks about important macro-economic issues of the day.

The station’s tunnels are populated with the destitute and homeless, which are having mainly micro-economic issues.

There is some sort of actio/reactio in this. Funny that.

Douglas Adams’ virtual 60th. At times with virtual Humour.

Dancing Rhinos. No, really.

So the best girlfriend and myself went to see the tribute to Douglas Adams, the aptly called ‘Virtual 60th birthday party’. Aptly due to the fact that the celebrant in question passed away while working out in a gym in L.A. (two things he apparently hated) in 2001. To rekindle the interest in Adams’ favourite charity, a bunch of celebrities thought it might be a good idea to put a show together celebrating the great man’s life.

A sassy frood who expected more. Or maybe less.

 

Being an enormous Adams fan myself I had to go, even though I had my doubts about how to throw together a celebratory party for a dead bloke.

We were promised loads of celebrities, of whom some pitched (Culshaw, Anderson, Jones, Ince, Singh, Bhaskar, Deayton, Lloyd, Curtis) and some didn’t, even though promised (Cox, Mangan, Fry). There were some of Adams’ sketches for Monty Python (some of them worked, some of them didn’t), dancing rhinos, comedy, science (Ince and Singh outstanding) and liff (John Lloyd reading the best of ‘The meaning of Liff’) and shite (Culshaw, Bhaskar, Jones).

There were some video clips, some rock by seventies rock gurus (Gilmour) and some plugs for the new HHTTG roadshow.

I am still puzzled and underwhelmed. I have no idea what the producers thought when they looked at the material available. The show lasted 3 1/2 hour. The good stuff would have made a good 90 minutes. While they decided to expand this into 270 minute borefest is beyond me.

Douglas might have stayed in a gym.