And Now For Something Completely Different

Meet Britain's greatest double-act...



...since everyone's very beloved Morecambe and Wise. At least, according to the front page of Thursday's rubbishy tabloid, "The Sun", who actually may have riffed the idea (to put it politely) from a fellow blogger.



In fact, what was most striking about yesterday's truly cosy-as-chips photo call and dual press conference, was that the Prime Minister looked far more enamoured of his Deputy, than the other way around. See for yourself next time, when traipsing around the front pages of the British dailies. The look on Cameron's face speaks volumes -- whereas Cleggy just looks bemused by Cam's attention towards him, like a Quarterback being wooed by the swotty student government president.

If I could, I would have a word in David Cameron's shell-like and whisper, "He's just not that into you" before things really get serious.

Yes We Cam

It was once said of monarchy, that there is no more stark dividing a line between yesterday and today, than when a King dies.

The phrases, "out with the old and in with the new", as well as the peculiarly British idiom, "yesterday's news" are witnesses to the fact that in any field of governance, what was is always immediately forgotten in the light of what is.

In fact, so strong is the pull of power, that it can draw in a disparate set of people, previously impossible to imagine as working together, because a crown, a mitre, or a sash is difficult to reject.

These two concepts of past power and the need to join forces to achieve power neatly sums up the preceeding five days lived by the British people.

It has been a tense, often bewildering time for a populace used to seeing one Prime Minister leave Number 10 Downing Street within minutes of hearing voting results, indeed with moving vans parked at the back, ordered by the PM's wife on the Friday BEFORE an election -- a custom characteristically British in modesty and lack of presumption, as well as innately tongue-in-cheek. But post-voting day Friday came and went without this age-old tradition being enacted due to a change of leadership: a leadership, furthermore, immediately accused of squatting like an old age pensioner not quite right in the head, hazy about his next move when finally given the sack by his old boss, the butt of jokes and sneers even by his erstwhile supporters.

Meanwhile, the presumptive leader was seen scrambling in undignified haste, trying to sell to his own troops, not to mention to those of his potential ally's, the idea of joining forces (to use that noxiously noble phrase) for the good of the country.

This might be all very well in Germany, with their singular lack of electoral humour (or any other kind of humour) or in New Zealand, who have dumped their Anglo-Saxonic "first-past-the-post" voting system for proportional representation; in any case, a cheery nation more comfortable with sheep than with the heady decision-making of what is still a world power -- but it is not common in the UK, and is certainly not the British Way.

It is this lack of clarity that is at the heart of the British liking of tradition.

In a world where uncertainty is the rule, tradition provides a helpful steadying hand. The play may be a tragedy or a comedy, the actors may change roles from one moment to the next, but at the end of the day, everyone exits, stage left.

As everyone knows, nature abhors a vacuum. And that's precisely how media came about, to fill it.

The rumours of who, what, where, and when allowed television and print media to have a field day with speculation, and half-truths, vividly revealed in tweets via Blackberries to their attendant followers.

One moment, we were being tweeted at that talks had gone swimmingly between the leaders of the Conservative and Liberal-Democrat Parties, only for others to counter-tweet that the Lib-Dem leadership had basically stabbed the Tory one in the back, by horsetrading its way unto power with the losing Labourites.

Who's to know what really transpired at the end of the day, because journalism is not history. It's merely short-term hearsay.

What we do know is that negotiations broke down between Labour and the Lib-Dems, allowing for the Conservatives to resume talks (perhaps now clearer about what they could offer) finally able to form a coalition government, the first in Britain for 70 years since Labour PM Ramsay MacDonald was given the nod so to do by none other than George V, the present Queen's grandfather.



Unlike that heady time, or during the Alec Douglas-Home appointment, the Queen herself didn't play any kind of role in choosing the Prime Minister. This was truly a more hands-on approach by the leadership of all three Parties.

Yet, so sudden was the decision to resign effective immediately his charge of Prime Minister and First Lord of the Treasury, this Tuesday, that it is said David Cameron didn't realise he was about to become PM until three minutes after Gordon Brown started on his way to Buckingham Palace, having received a tardy phone call from Number 10! Goodness only knows where the third member of this poli-sci comedy, Nick Clegg, was at that moment. Perhaps in the shower shaving his peachfuzz baby-face or picking out another orange tie to wear for his close-up, Mr. DeMille.

Let me just say that the Rt. Hon Dr James Gordon Brown gave a moving, and gracious exit speech in front of his old digs, his red-headed wife at his side.

His wife, I like a lot. She's long been known to soothe the savageness of that beast, Gordon Brown. If "The Queen" is ever remade about this election, I hope they choose Cynthia Nixon to play Sarah Brown. Her partner, Christina Marinoni could even play Gordon Brown, with a bushy salt-and-pepper Scottish wig, as she already has a nice array of neckware to offer.



At long last, Britain had its head of government, and whilst awaiting his arrival at hallowed Number 10, I had predicted in real-time that "Dave's" maiden speech as PM would be drowned out by the jeers and fingers-up by Labour "supporters" just outside the gates -- a prediction I am sad to say, was fulfilled all too vividly.

For if there is anything you can count on, it is the abject sore-losership and sour grapeyness of those on the left-of-centre politically. It's almost as if they believe that they have a Fate-given right to perpetually lead a country, and should the opposite occur, the cruel, unfair and deluded world needs to hear them squeal in toddler-like distaste. All those of you who remember the Inauguration of President GW Bush in 2001, looong loooong before Iraq, will understand what I mean.

Elections will probably be called as soon as Autumn (September-October?) because this hastily assembled coalition may soon see its first fissures before Summer recess.

But never mind.

Today, Britain can at last go back to doing what it does best. Put the kettle on, and worry about today, tomorrow.

Good luck you two. Err, three. No wait! Four. I think.



UPDATE: Sigh. You win some, you lose some.



Related Reading

Conservative Party Leadership (September 23 2005)
RIP Ivan Cameron
When They Were Young

Resolute And Messy

A quick compare/contrast of two very different powerful men's desks.

Outgoing British PM Gordon Brown's workmanlike desk, with his boys' finger-paintings hanging on the walls and a nice photo of his wife ON his desk.



And then there's this minimalist-with-a-passion desk favoured by the US President, Barack Obama.



I don't know about you, but I know which one I find less creepy.

Because Every Monday 8

Should start out with a laugh.

Because Every Monday 7

Should start out with a laugh.

Because Every Monday 6

Should start out with a laugh.

Three Words

Don't. Buy. Dell.

As you can imagine, my absence is partly due to my computer's Hard Drive being fried.

I was completely happy with the fact that I had installed that PSU myself a while ago, but I confess, though I have tried every hint in the book: trying to boot it up with a disk, and trying Safe Mode. It just does not want to work. Chkdsk stops midway in stage 2.

I am therefore in your blogging debt.

That desktop computer was my last one working, seeing as how my laptop is fried too.

I refuse to take it back to the sillies who charged me a fortune to install a new Hard Drive only last year (conveniently now OVER the warranty), so I have to hunt around to see who can fix it, and cheaply.

This may take a while, guys, so please make yourselves at home on the blog. At least, I have the Kindle's web browser, so I can read Sundries that way, even if I can't email.

Grumble. Grumble. Harumph.

Ah well, such is life, right?



P.S.: I'll schedule a few posts, to keep you tied until I get back. I really do miss blogging...

Dennis Miller Takes Down Nancy Pelosi

"When there's money involved she's up and down like a seal at Seaworld."

(Via Instapundit)

Kenneth The Page Responds

I don't know who this internet chatter character is, this Kenneth the Page, as I don't watch television, but from this clip I can see what they are trying to suggest.



Ann Althouse suggested there was an undercurrent of racism about the personal attacks on Governor Bobby Jindal's speech. After all, it was just a speech, and some people bomb in them. He did last night, stylistically, but given the instantaneous diarrhoea of posts his performance got (possibly as much as the actual and much more important State of the Union), you'd think he had slain three kittens on national TV.

Althouse asked.

"Why the urge to paint him as a white white man? Where did that come from?"

Probably the critics will mention that his regionalism and conservative religion made the connexion evident, but she is going for something deeper here.

There is a programme on IFC called "The Whitest Kids You Know".

A blogger described such kids as:

"The whitest kids I know all sort of look like Ashton Kutcher, listen to Jack Johnson, think Dane Cook is funny, and dig Adam Sandler movies."

I think what many people don't like about Jindal is that he doesn't talk like Apu, doesn't look like he could break into a Bollywood dance routine, and therefore isn't the "other" that is cool because of cultural expectations. Take it into another level, and they are also inferring that he is a race traitor by being a poseur, this Republican Southerner Indian fella.

What I BELIEVE Althouse is saying is that he fails to live up to some kind of stereotype they refuse to acknowledge they have deep inside themselves.

He acts like just another vanilla geeky white guy, like Kenneth the Page. More Millionaire, than Slumdog, if you will.

And that makes him the fairest of game.

Sure, he did himself no favours with that speech.

But if Obama had stunk up the joint, and others had criticised him so savagely, don't you think that his supporters wouldn't have claimed racism as a possible reason for the derision?

You bet they would have.

ADDED: Some journalists are not even hiding their references about Jindal and his Indianness.

“Bobby Jindal was ‘pitiful,’ Helen Thomas tells film crew, right before making a ‘Slumdog Millionaire’ crack.”

That is Helen Thomas, the doyenne of the press corps who practised unbiased reporting all those years, you know.

IN THE COMMENTS: I mean, after Chris Matthews admitted he uttered that infamous "Oh God", and stating that the GOP CPAC conference this week will resemble a Star Trek convention (you know, more uncool geeky white guys), what do we expect anymore.

But JSU reminds us of his latest Jindal crack.

There was definitely something rotten in Matthews' "outsourcing" remark.

Obamas Choose First Pooch

Thankfully, I have lighter news to relay to the readership today. The First Family have chosen that highly anticipated puppy dog.

It's a Portuguese Water Dog. Behold.



Cute. But he looks like a shedder. Peggy Gero DaValt will weigh in about this, hopefully.

As Seen On TV

Meet the new Snuggie pitchwoman, Speaker Nancy Pelosi, who is already hard at work.

The Football Arrives

I did not know the briefcase containing the nuclear codes had to follow the President even to the State of the Union address. Here it is, carried by an unnamed military aide, arriving at Statuary Hall.



Thanks to Wikipedia, we learn the following about the so-called "football":

The case itself is a metallic, possibly bullet-resistant, modified Zero Halliburton briefcase which is carried inside a black leather "jacket." The entire package weighs approximately 40 pounds (18 kg). A small antenna, presumably for the SATCOM radio, protrudes from the bag near the handle. A common misconception is that the football is handcuffed to its carrier. Rather, a black cable is employed that loops around the handle of the bag and the wrist of the aide.

That's a sobering thought. Perhaps much more reassuring than also learning via Wiki of something that happened back when, to President Jimmy Carter.

"Jimmy Carter once left nuclear launch codes in his suit when it was sent in for dry cleaning."

Never mind "ineffectual". Try incompetent.

You Don't Mess With Joe!

I don't know, maybe President Andrew Johnson called for a spitoon to lob chewing tobacco once, but for me, this is the single-handed most un-Presidential moment in any State of the Union I have ever witnessed. Both in the giving, and in the receiving.

The Red Carpet

Last night's Oscars might've been deadly dull in the first two hours, only hitting their stride in the last, but they did have a certain welcome glamour not seen in previous editions.

I think its due to the transition from the older generation of Hollywood luminaries of Paul Newman and Elizabeth Taylor to the younger generation of Kate Winslet and Hugh Jackman, finally coming into its own.

It's not surprising that the dresses seen on the Red Carpet this year reminded one of the 1950s more than any other era, one captivating in its silky elegance, with its Marilyn Monroe off-the-shoulder dresses, chignons and beauty marks.

Perhaps the only intrusion into this reverie were some of the tattoos to be seen on the various body parts...not of the men, but of the women who otherwise bedazzled the eye.

Ah well. It can't be 1950 forever.

THE ACADEMY AWARDS 2008-2009

THE QUEEN - Kate Winslet



THE KING - Hugh Jackman



ANNE HATHAWAY

Bad taste in men, terrific taste in clothes.



ANGELINA JOLIE

Actually, she was a bit of a let down. The dress was too simple and the hair looked like something I do when I'm in a hurry to go out, but don't want to look too ratty. And the tats...



EVAN RACHEL WOOD

...ruin even the most delicate of complexions and dress fabric.



AMY ADAMS

Flawless. Impeccable. My favourite ensemble of the night.



AMANDA SEYFRIED

I'm not exactly too up on Miss Seyfried's contributions to the silver screen, but I must say that despite knowing the fashionista critics will not like her dress, I adore it. And my, but doesn't she look like Bette Davis facially though?



JAMES FRANCO

Does he even try? Newfangled "tux". Didn't go to the barbershop for a haircut. Needs teeth whiteners. Catastrophic. How anyone can find him handsome, is beyond me.



NOT A JUDITH LIEBER CLUTCH



NATALIE PORTMAN

She somehow achieves a great look, despite wearing that particular shade of pink that very small women should stay away from. It is her natural beauty which allows it to succeed.



MILEY CYRUS

She's young, and she tried her best to look good (she does) but she needs to learn about good posture. Hannah Montana looks like she's on the holler with two babies on her hips.



MICKEY ROURKE

You might think, "Oh no, Vic is going to skewer Rourke for looking like a schlepp" but I'm actually not. He doesn't look like he rolled out of bed at all. He's just unconventional. I liked it.



MARION COTILLARD

From the side, gorgeous. From the front, the dress looks too shiny and unfortunately makes her look twice her size. Considering she was so nervous in her (touching) presentation, I'll give her a break by saying excellent effort.



QUEEN LATIFAH

Wonderful. Sleek hair and a flattering floor-length dress which shows you that big-boned gals can look good if they know what flatters them.



SOPHIA LOREN

You wish you looked so good at 75.



SARAH JESSICA PARKER

She achieves what she is expected to by her legion of fans. Tastefully sophisticated. I'm just not sure she looks happy.

(She also is beginning to resemble Bette Midler!)



SETH ROGEN

Proving for the millionth time that any man, no matter what kind of a schlubb he is, is improved significantly by such classic attire. I even like Seth's glasses.



BEYONCÉ

Will you tell Daryl Hannah her flippers are missing, or will I?



PHILIPPE PETIT

Give the guy a break. He walked in between the Twin Towers. Mindboggling.



PENELOPE CRUZ

Penelope, it's not your quinces party. This is the Oscars. Come on now.



TINA FEY

Such old world glamour she has. And it's when she puts her hair up that you realise just how much she DOESN'T look like Sarah Palin.



TILDA SWINTON

I'm not sure if it's the haircut, but Tilda looks like my great-uncle Ballard in that frock.



TARAJI HENSON

My third favourite look of the night, after Kate and Amy. Simplicity is best when you have such a naturally radiant face.



THE CAST OF SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE

How India must be proud. A credit to dignity everywhere.




ADDED: Close-up of those strange pins Mickey Rourke was wearing with his suit. I was half wanting to inquire if those were MIA pins or what-have-you.

But no. They're lockets containing a photo of his late chihuahua, Loki. Did I tell you that Mickey Rourke is practically my neighbour in South Beach?



The irrepressible walker-of-wires, Philippe Petit, accomplishes something no one is said to have done before. Balancing the Oscar statuette on his chin.

Wow.

My Latest Obsession

Is not, as rumour has it, Twitter but learning how to spin a pen or pencil around in my hand. You can see just how intricate it is, in this pen spinning tutorial below.

(They have a tutorial for everything on Youtube. It rocks!)



...are you intrigued enough to try?

Let me counsel you to put on a pair of glasses, a thick coat, and for God's sake, do not wear flip-flops. Also, get rid of any pets unless you don't mind blinding them either.

Because Every Monday 5

Should start out with a laugh.

Follow Me Twitter

When I joined this internet telegraphing service, I had no idea to whom I would be communicating. But handy old Twitter had a stack of ideas for me in their handy who-to-Twitter list.

• Defamer LA.
• Guardian Tech.
• NYT.
• NPR Politics.
• Al Gore.
• Ana Marie Cox.
  
• Whole Foods Market.
• George Stephanopoulos.

...gee, liberal much, Twitter? Oh wait! How could I have I misjudged them so?

• John McCain.

No wonder we lost.

Oscars Night

BUMPED: Please scroll down and check the comments section for Oscar 2009 Night Live-Chatting.

Regrettably, Twitter is out, but I will be here and possibly over at Althouse to live comment.

I am extremely annoyed that the Oscar winners have possibly been leaked, since usually I would tell you my predictions beforehand. But the winds seem to have been cut out of my sails, rather, now.

Here is the leaked letter, showing the winners. It's been debunked, of course, but I don't know. The picks look precisely what the Academy would honour.



For a person like me, who so disliked "Slumdog Millionaire" for reasons I have stated innumerable times, it's a disaster if true. Also the fact that "Waltz with Bashir" is not leaked as having won Foreign Picture leaves me cold.

On the other hand, I was fairly sure Kate Winslet would have won for Best Actress, with Amy Adams almost definitely getting the Best Supporting Actress award.

The latter is not because she was so amazing (Adams was good, but her colleague Viola Davis is more deserving), but because she fits the bill perfectly for actresses often honoured by that statuette -- good character actresses, who have an impressive body of work behind them or who give a standout one-time performance, aka the Marisa Tomei Nomination (she already surprised once; I doubt she would repeat) The only other one which qualifies for the body of work is Penelope Cruz, mostly in the Spanish language, and she was going to be my surprise pick.

Mickey Rourke for Best Actor, I can see.

Jenkins is the token "Just Happy to be Nominated" actor, Langella is more suited to the Best Supporting Actor category, whereas Penn has already won it. That leaves Pitt or Rourke, and there is no way Brad Pitt should get anywhere near an actual Oscar win. He's not quite as bad an actor as Tom Cruise, but it's close. Heath Ledger, may God rest him, is a lock for Best Supporting Actor, and we have known that since The Dark Knight debuted.

Instapundit wondered if anyone watches the Oscars anymore. Hardcore fans like me do, but each year has seen an utter decline in viewership.

It's because Hollywood doesn't honour mainstream films as much anymore. Indies are fantastic for people like me, but most could care less about a film like Frozen River. Now, Iron Man even my father would know about. It was a decent film, which furthermore was a box office hit, but it wasn't judged to be worthy of inclusion.

If these popular, worthy films are left out, the Oscars then become a night for insiders to preen, almost as if they didn't need an interested audience. That's why Oscars night have lost their appeal. We are completely superfluous to the process.

I rather suspect this year will be different though. Maybe it's Brangelina being dually nominated, with the casual tabloid turners tuning in. Or maybe it's the fact that I suspect this year people want glamour and fun when our national edifice is so stressed.

It's like Halloween 2008.

I have never seen a livelier Halloween than last year's. Sunday night will turn out a different class of witch, warlock and broomstick all together.

OSCARS 2008-9 NIGHT LIVE-BLOGGING

8:26 PM: The first mention of the night of Louis Prima. I'm sure it won't be the last.

8:29: Amy Adams (Doubt) and her necklace arrive at the Oscars on February 22nd. That's a Harry Winston necklace or my name isn't Ethel McGillicuddy.



8:30: Commenter Laurie has a new crush -- Aussie actor, Hugh Jackman (which has always sounded rather sophmoric to me, like Hugh Arse). He's our host for the evening and personally I couldn't be happier. He seems just the right type of antidote to the Billy Crystal/Whoopi Goldberg/Jon Stewart wisecracks.

Good Lord, he's launched into song. Somewhere up there, near the hanging icicles above the stage, an angel called Ethel Merman is smiling.

8:34: First reference to pubic hair at the Oscars since that streaker interrupted David Niven...

8:35: After a sweet musical number and a quick shower (by me, not Jackman/Hathaway!) we have the first three ex-Best Supporting Actresses up on stage, including last year's winner, Tilda Swinton. Unusually, it is usually one presenter of the opposite sex, who turn up, so this is a change.

8:47: PENELOPE CRUZ! My surprise pick to win this year. And now we have absolute knowledge that the leaked list was totally fake. Starless knew it all along.

Incidentally, is the broadcast rather strange? It looks unusually delayed and therefore static.

8:57: The ex-Mormon screenwriter for MILK wins for Best Original Screenplay, and he's giving a sentimental acceptance speech about living his sexual lifestyle and encouraging kids out there who are in that position, to have hope.

9:00: Simon Beaufroy wins for Best Adapted Screenplay (Slumdog Millionaire). Something strange happened just before. When Langella/Nixon said he orders cheeseburgers, in the excerpted screenplay, something inside me clicked. So I'm off for a moment to grab a burger! I'll be back for the major Awards later.

9:07: WALL-E wins! Of course. That and Ledger winning are the biggest locks this year.

9:28: I asked the restaurant attendant who brought the burger to my car, "are you watching the Oscars inside?". "They are, but I am not. From what I hear, it's really bad." "Heh, yeah, you're not missing much." "I don't even know who is nominated, other than Brad and Angelina."

Says it all, really.

9:29: Digital Animation being honoured, but already there was a reference to Jerry Lewis -- who is finally getting his honourary statuette today.

9:43: James Franco: "Who do you think is the better actor: Ronald Reagan or Barack Obama?"

Sarah Palin, of course.

9:58: I'm not sure if the musical is back, but I sure know the Oscars would be back if they had more Jackman/Beyoncé musical numbers. That was perfect.

10:04: Best Supporting Actor coming up and Laurie has an apposite remark about one of the presenters.

"Lord! I thought Joel Grey was dead!"

10:08: Well done, Heath! You stripped the Joker bare, and what we got was the Ur-Joker -- reinventing the comic book heavy for all time.

Rest In Peace, boyo.

10:15: Philippe Petit, the man who walked between the Twin Towers, got up there and reminded us why the movies work -- magic.

If only others would be more whimsical, and not nearly as too-cool-for-all-of-you, we would have an inkling of what Hollywood used to be like.

10:20: Does Brad Pitt have this Clark Gable look happening? There was a quick shot of him as Benjamin Button's awardees were up on the podium for Visual Effects.

10:30: In an absolutely touching moment, Oom the Sound got a dedicatory Oscar.

10:42: They say (who? sorry a little Wikifying there) Jerry Lewis is a singularly unpleasant person, and has been for years. Nevertheless, he is an American institution, and his good work for his extreme dedication every Labour Day during his telethon should be rewarded. And he is.

Ooh, shot of Sophia Loren. I had no idea she was there, God bless her.

11:21: Danny Boyle is accepting in the spirit of Tigger from Winnie The Pooh. That sums up this quixotic night perfectly.

As for the new format, with the Director award going before the Big Actor/Actress ones, what can I say -- do not like.

11:33: Kate Winslet's dad just whistled, and we have an iconic Oscars moment right now.

I do not like the format change, but I admit that having the 5 legendary actresses presenting each individual nomination for each actress made it perfect. They are five Oscars incarnate.

11:39: Robert DeNiro: Talking about Penn who "advises world leaders", oh God. That includes Saddam Hussein. Jesus Christ.

Peggy commented:

I noticed that Marion had the envelope...and Kate won...does this mean that Frank Langella will win? Michael Douglas has the envelope?

Let's see!

11:44: You Commie, homo-loving sons of guns says Penn on accepting his Oscar, besting Mickey Rourke in the category.

I'm bereft, but not because Penn didn't deserve it. It's just that he's won before...incidentally, TIBORE totally called it before.

Okay... I have this funny feeling that Sean Penn's going to upset Mickey Rourke for Best Actor.

Hate to say it, but that's the vibe I'm getting.

The Fake List is well and truly fake.

11:55: Finally, Slumdog Millionaire wins for BEST PICTURE, and all is all right in the world again.

I have to say that ultimately, I thought this tidy Oscars was an unusual mixture of graciousness and grappling awkwardness. I do not think it does anything for a generation which is each time further removed from the Old Hollywood Glamour of actors whose names they do not even know anymore.

It's very little wonder then, that the Oscars are still waited with baited breath abroad, but most people have long since turned in for the night?

Not Sundries commenters though. And here I would like to add a very humble thanks to all who turned this thread into a monumental success.

I couldn't have reached 200 plus comments without you all. Thank you SO MUCH for honouring this blog with your presence.

Carry on, guys!

ADDED INFO: My Twitter page. When Peggy Gero DaValt joined, I found a little Dutch courage by pouring a G and T, and joined too. All of that is true, except the Gin and Tonic.

When Did Rahm Emanuel

Turn into Karl Lagerfeld?





From Gatekeeper to Cryptkeeper, with one fine lunge of the knife.