An Act Of Worship

Greetings fellow travellers, bless you all for taking the time to tune your brain into my digital output. I can feel the surge and it makes me feel as full as a pair of rowers shorts.

Today, I joined the throng of faithful and devout worshippers, those who sacrifice their Sunday morning to pay homage at the altar of the one and only god. As I walked down the aisle I heard the strains of that most beautiful hymn - Celebration by Kool and The Gang.

You guessed it, I was in the temple of doom otherwise known as Tesco.

Everywhere you looked the uplifting effects of the Olympic Games were clear to see. Lots of smiling faces, the smell of sweat filled the air and hunky athletic men showed the world what a six pack really should look like as they paraded their majestic beer bellies in skin tight vest tops.

I was wearing a nice linen shirt and a pair of tailored shorts, my powerful white legs (very very white) supported my dash around the shopping synagogue as I secured a nice corn fed free range chicken, some fresh cauliflower (don't worry Miss Twillets, we have cheese sauce) and some carrot batons.

So swift was my journey through the lanes of this palace of purchasing pleasure, that I was on my marks at the checkout in a record time. If Mrs B had been with me, we would still have been looking for stuffing amongst the sauerkraut in the ever expanding Polish section.

Not that I have anything against the Polish having their own section, as a middle class man with some taste I can readily admit the fresh veg section is really only for me and my tribe, the majority of the competitors/worshippers manage to pass it by. And what a treat they missed today - multi coloured cauliflower! (I said don't worry Miss Twillets, it will all look the same when the cheese sauce gets to work).

So, there I was waiting for the starting beep of my final event, the culmination of years of training, this is what I had worked for - the moment of glory was upon me and as the young pasty faced boy reached his hand out for the first item I thought, this is it!

But then disaster struck - typical Team Tesco, he dropped the batons!

Oh well, better luck in four days when the next games are to be held in (drum roll)........Sainsbury's.

It has been a great two weeks, the Olympics have delivered on all levels and as I wrote last week, we didn't need to worry about medals and I really could not care less where we finished on the medal table.

For me it will be the memories of the Opening Ceremony, archery, canoe slalom, dancing horses and David Rudisha and Mo and Tom and John Inverdale and...well, it was all great. I cannot remember crying this much since they cancelled CSI Miami.

There was one moment that disturbed me though, a very offensive moment and totally against all that the Olympics stand for - it was when Meseret Defar of Ethiopia won the Women's 5'000 metres and in full view of the worlds media she reached inside her running kit and pulled out a picture of the Virgin Mary and started to pray...it was her faith that helped her win. I don't suppose she did any training then, just lots of praying. I know I'm being nasty and sniping at her faith but you'll get over it and if she is right and god is watching then she will win more races and I will be struck by a lighting bolt. It's a win win situation on so many levels!

The euphoria of the Games has been good for the country, I hope the closing ceremony is of an equal standard to the opening but if what I hear is to be believed and The Spice Girls are back, well that can't be any worse than Paul McCartney. I still think we should have Tom Jones singing Delilah to close the show, I bet everyone joins in.

OK, I have to go now and make cheese sauce and I wish all of you a happy Sunday and continued success as you run your race of life.

No News Is...

Good news? Not any more, it would seem that there is no such thing as 'No News' as anything that now happens anywhere in the world can become news in a matter of moments.

Mrs B and I have taken great pleasure in watching The Newsroom on tv, written by Aaron Sorkin it shows the workings of a US cable newsroom and the drive to simply find the facts and inform the public. Telling the truth about the things that the electorate need to know. How refreshing a thought, that the news would only ever be about the things we need to know, that serve the public interest rather than just offering hours of supposition, titillation and gossip.

This week I got a quick look at the newsroom of our local paper, and as you know I often get invited to the local BBC radio station to spread my pearls of wisdom. I have respect for the men and women who work very hard to provide a good quality of local news coverage but even they sometimes find themselves under added pressure when a local story becomes a national story.

I suppose the recent events in New Addington and the death of Tia Sharp are a good example. As I followed the breaking story a friend on Twitter reported that 'the street is full of press and news teams'.

Reporting on the discovery of a body after such a public search for this poor young girl seems valid, reporting on the disappearance and subsequent arrest of Stuart Hazell is totally newsworthy but then the door knocking starts and we get 'neighbours report' type stories.

In the search for some juicy tidbit they will take anyone who wants to speak at face value and offer their opinions as news. How can they be sure that there is no personal bias? We have seen in the past how a local rumour monger has fuelled the flames after a tragic event and it lead to a innocent man being accused of a crime he did not commit, take for example Christopher Jefferies.

This is one of the areas that The Leveson Inquiry is examining and rightly so.

I have no problem with journalists digging into the private lives of anyone who needs to be exposed as criminal, as they did with the MP's and their expenses, but my own recent experiences show that sometimes they don't know where to draw the line.

I was asked to conduct the funeral of Charlotte Blackman, the young lady tragically killed on holiday with her family. I met with the family and we put together a funeral that reflected the great joy of Charlotte's life. Of course the circumstances of her death made national headlines and I accept that seeing the story on the news seemed appropriate but I learned from the family that many of the stories in the newspapers about the events of the day contained great inaccuracies. The press has literally hounded the family for stories and have spoken to family members, ex work colleagues, trying to get some angle on the story. How is that news? How can that possibly serve the public interest?

As was expected the press and the news were present at the funeral to film the arrival of the hearse, but can you believe that they had the nerve to ask if they could film the whole funeral or if they might have an interview with the parents after the funeral!

Unbelievable - not a modicum of common decency or respect for a grieving family.

Later, I read some of the reports and once again there were obvious factual inaccuracies about what had happened at the funeral and who was attending and I thought, well that proves the old adage...never let the facts stand in the way of a good story.


Of course it is really too easy to just get angry at the reporters or the people who send them to chase these stories, how much of the blame should we take?  The consumers - we who read or watch these non-news, news stories.

Do we get the news we deserve?

I am convinced that this part of journalism is a minor part of news gathering and dissemination, but when you get close to it, it really stinks.

Olympic Update

So here we are faithful followers, Day 5 of the 2012 Olympic Games and apparently the whole country is fretting because we have not won a gold medal...I am here to calm your nerves and put things into perspective.

First of all, do you recall that part of the lavish opening ceremony when a competitor, a  referee and a coach took the Olympic Oath? Well, that little section was really the most important part of the whole ceremony because it sets out what the Olympic ideal is really about...that those taking part simply do their best.

I understand there are about 17000 people taking part in the Games, if they all do their best a very small percentage will win medals but those who do not win medals are no less worthy of recognition.

The media are obsessed with medals tables and each day we have pundits and commentators predicting who will and should win medals for Team GB - I had a little dig at Mike Bushell this morning via Twitter pointing out that such predictions are worthless - what will be will be.

Adding more and more pressure onto athletes by repeating how much we expect of them is something the media do for the sake of news - I don't believe real sports fans wish anything but the best of luck to those men and women who have trained and sacrificed so much just to qualify for the Games.

I will celebrate if Ben Ainslie wins a gold medal but if he doesn't win it might just be because someone was better on the day, the same way that three other teams of divers were better than Daley and Waterfield on the day.

The constant media pressure is also partly to blame for the outpouring of hate towards Tom Daley after he 'failed to secure a gold medal'. We build these people up as unbeatable and we forget they are human.

I do not believe that there is a single competitor in any team that only wants to win because the media are watching - they want to win and give of their best because of their love of the sport...it is taking part that counts. That is why our own Miss Adlington was beaming when she won her bronze medal - she swam better than she could have hoped, she came third and won that medal but why should we think less of her if she had swam a personal best and finished fourth?

So, don't worry - we may well win a gold medal today or we may not, either way I shall enjoy watching the competitors try their best.

Now a message to those badminton players who have not been trying their best - piss off home you cheating bastards! You should be ashamed and if I was the referee I would have disqualified you and I would have kicked your coaches out of the sport for ever! This is the frigging Olympics!!!!!

Sorry, had to get that off my chest.

The Games People Play

Welcome athletes of the world, I know you are all pretty tired after the Opening Ceremony but I'm sure you are all waking up in the Olympic Village, reaching for your probiotic yoghurt and blueberries and saying to yourself in 207 different languages - 'when will the Guru speak unto us'?

Well here I am...bonjour and ey up mi duck!

Those who are regular followers will know that I am a cynical old bugger but last night as I sat and watched the stunning opening ceremony of the London 2012 games, the cynicism was washed away by a tidal wave of pride in my country - (apologies to the Japanese contingent).

The conception and delivery was remarkable - showing the history of our country, showing where we had come from and the things we had built for ourselves and the world but then showing how we can go further and aspire to a future we can be even more proud of.

I know that economically we are in the depths of despair but for four hours last night I forgot deficits and banks and problems and I was reminded that it is possible to reach for something positive. That's the message of sport I suppose, if you want to succeed you have to work very hard and make some sacrifices.

Danny Boyle showed us the past we can be proud of and learn from and he gave us a glimpse of a future that might well be within our grasp.

I don't agree with some of the criticism that the whole thing was too British or too left wing - since when did Mary Poppins become a symbol of the left?  It was Great Britain showing the world why the IOC chose London to stage the games and show them we did!

I'm not sure that some countries watching would grasp the intrinsic Britishness of all the little bits of our culture that Mr Boyle stitched together but that doesn't matter,what they would have seen is a country unafraid in showing the world who we are - multicultural and artistically vibrant.

I really did think the whole thing was superb and the final surprise, the literal handing on of the torch to the next generation, well that was inspired.

As Paul McCartney started to sing I retired to my bed - couldn't we have found a younger singer?

A small criticism of what was otherwise a great show.

By the way, if you live in Cannock and you voted for the Tory MP Aidan Burley, I hope you feel ashamed of yourself. The man needs to be kicked smartly in the testicles by all of his constituents but that might have to wait until Mr Cameron and Boris have finished with him. Silly man.

He wrote on Twitter during the ceremony:

"The most leftie opening ceremony I have ever seen - more than Beijing, the capital of a communist state! Welfare tribute next?"

and

"Thank God the athletes have arrived! Now we can move on from leftie multi-cultural crap. Bring back red arrows, Shakespeare and the Stones!"

This morning after being roundly criticised for his comments he wrote:

"Seems my tweet has been misunderstood. I was talking about the way it was handled in the show, not multiculturalism itself".

You judge for yourself, but I think the man is a prize twat and I apologise if he takes offence at me calling him a donkey faced, addled brained, right wing Nazi loving tosser...but why should I apologise, he will only be misunderstanding my words!

OK teams - get your kit together, we have games to play....what do you mean you don't have your kit?

Right, you'll just have compete in your pants!

Park Life

It's raining...nothing new.

As far as I can tell this is a great test for creationism and evolution because one of two things will have to happen in the coming weeks. As the rain continues to fall either a man in a large wooden boat will start collecting animals or my toes will start to develop webbing and gills will start to grow on the side of my neck. Mrs B is hoping I turn into Patrick Duffy in his Man From Atlantis days.

If a modern day Noah is collecting animals can I suggest he leaves things like rats and mosquitos to fend for themselves but if he needs some foxes, well there is a family of them in the park behind the ashram here on the hill.

As you may well know, the palace of wisdom in which I keep my two thrones sits high on a hill overlooking Mansfield. This lofty position has many advantages, not least being that we will be the last to get flooded. Other advantages are that in the height of summer the smell of death and the flies that buzz around the decaying corpses of kebabs and vomit, don't reach this high. There is some noise pollution through the winter months, especially if the wind is in the wrong direction, as we can here the animals howling from the nearby Field Mill Endangered Species Park.

The main joy of living in the clouds is that we back onto a park, a lovely open space in which can be seen all sorts of wildlife and nature. There are the aforementioned foxes, the odd rabbit or two and then there are the tits.

Yes, in the summer the park is filled with tits but not so many recently after the park was invaded by Stags. It would appear the Stags have escaped from the Field Mill Endangered Species Park!

You know the problem with Stags is they are so territorial and they spend all day rutting and bellowing about how fantastic they are. Even Stags that would have no chance of being given a second glance if they were in a bigger arena try and put on a great display in the park at the back of my house.

Sadly, Stag hunting is not allowed and the Mayor of Mansfield has declared them to be a protected species and he has even given them a nice shiny security fence to keep danger at bay.

They are now free to run up and down and roll on the grass pretending to be hurt without the fear of a local peasant out walking his dog, getting in their way. It's a shame really because for many years that is what the Stag enclosure was used for - local people would take their dogs, or their kids and a picnic, and spend a nice quiet day in the park.

There are some cynics who will tell you that the Mayor and the head Stag keeper are in cahoots and that some cash may have changed hands, but that would just be a cynical allegation with no proof behind it whatsoever at all! I'm sure that the Mayor just decided to allow the Stags to take over the park because it might make him look like an animal lover.

Well, I'm an animal lover too - I like stags, especially cooked in red wine!

All of this tomfoolery will come to a head, the peasants are revolting and have even desecrated the Stags territorial markings...what next I wonder? Watch this space.