>> THE F R I D A Y THING <<
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THE SAMPLE ISSUE
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* The Evening Standard: The paper that hates London.
* Barry Popper and the Chamber of Elf Goblins: Or something.
* Michael Jackson: Picking over his bones.
* Ken Livingstone: Nazi Schmazi
* Dead Soldier TV: The etiquette.
* TFT Meets: Ricky Gervais.
...and so much more.
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The TFP Talk Forums: http://www.thefridayproject.co.uk/talk
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HAIKNEWS
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Time poor? Know all with a 5-7-5 syllable news round-up...
Yasser Arafat
Palestinian leader
Haiku godsend - dead
-
More Haiknews: http://www.haiknews.co.uk
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THE FRONT SECTION: THIS WEEK IN WORDS AND LINKS
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TFT GUIDE TO... SHAGGING YOUR WORKMATES
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It was recently claimed that the affair between England manager
Sven Goran Eriksson and Faria Alam, a secretary at the Football
Association, had continued even after they'd been found out. But
if you're going to dip your nib in the company inkwell, how
should you go about it? TFT makes some suggestions...
...
1) Recreate Moonlighting-style sexual frisson by only working at
companies where everyone looks like Bruce Willis or Cybill
Shepherd.
2) Remember it's an unwritten law of office romances to start a
relationship with the work colleague that will cause you the most
personal grief in the future. Faced with the choice between:
- The easy-going, single woman you have a laugh with at the
water cooler, OR:
- A married woman 11 years older than you with four kids, a
drink problem and a husband who's in the Royal Marine
commandos
...it must always be the latter.
3) If you're going to sleep with the boss, make sure they are
genuinely successful, eg. an international corporate trouble-
shooter, thus ensuring exotic foreign trips, high class hotels,
trips to the finest restaurants and expensive gifts. If they're
just a lowly office cleaning products sales rep, the best you're
looking at is a sandwich in a Holiday Inn Express in Rotherham
listening to a drunken Scottish navvie fucking a prostitute in
the next room.
4) Remember that sleeping with one of your superiors can get
complicated. If you're Junior Deputy Assistant Regional Marketing
Executive (UK) and you're sleeping with a the Senior Project
Coordination Under-manager (South East), how the hell can you
tell which one of you is the boss?
5) Think twice before 'sleeping your way to the top'. Is it
really worth sleeping with a spotty bloater of indeterminate sex
to get your third McDonald's star?
-
tooclosetohome@thefridaything.co.uk
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THE EVENING STANDARD: THE PAPER THAT HATES LONDON
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On Thursday July 28th, the Evening Standard published an article
entitled 'Terror and hatred for sale in the heart of capital'. In
the article, Standard writer Robert Mendick told of how an
Islamic bookshop called Dar Al Taqwa sold books and DVDs
'advocating terrorism' and 'urging Muslims to wage a holy war by
arming themselves with bombs and guns'. They printed a picture of
the shop, the address of the shop and even the shop's phone
number. You can probably guess what happened next. The bookshop
employees were immediately subject to a rigorous campaign of
abusive phone calls and personal threats. Quite right, you might
think. Send 'em back. They come over here, convert our women and
threaten our freedom... Well, quite. Trouble is, it was all a
dirty great lie.
Dar Al Taqwa, which incidentally translates as House of Awe and
Wonder, has been selling Islam-related publications for 21 years.
None of the publications it sells in any way support or encourage
violence. In a letter written by the shop's Managing Director
Samir El-Attar, he says, 'We have always promoted literature
which encourages people to be law-abiding citizens from whose
hands and whose tongues everyone is safe.' Furthermore, having
visited Dar Al Taqwa in the course of inventing his article,
Mendick is sure to have been aware of this. None of the so-called
hate-peddling publications Mendick claimed could be purchased at
Dar Al Taqwa can in fact be purchased at Dar Al Taqwa. He lied.
Furthermore, one of these publications, a DVD of a lecture given
by Dr Zakir Naik in March 2000, is not supportive of terrorism.
Rather, Naik has always spoken out against terrorism. But his
lecture, and the accompanying video, is entitled 'Terrorism in
the Name of Islam', so for a hate-peddling journalist such as
Robert Mendick, it was simply too easy.
Sadly, it doesn't stop there. The day after the article was
published, El-Attar wrote to the Evening Standard, detailing the
extent of Mendick's defamatory and highly inflammatory article.
The Standard refused to print the letter. However, to give them
their due, they did agree to publish an article of equal length
refuting the false allegations, together with an apology for
having lied and incited religious hatred. So the article was
written and a suggested apology drafted. Then, sadly, the Evening
Standard changed their minds and refused to print either.
As El-Attar points out in his unpublished letter to the Standard,
the only hatred and terror for sale in this case was the hatred
and terror being incited by Robert Mendick and sold by the
Evening Standard. They even removed the 'Not In Our name' posters
in the bookshop window on the photograph they printed. The
article then, was deliberately manipulated in order to give a
false impression of an innocent bookseller. Surely we have laws
against this? Well, yes. Thankfully we do.
This morning we spoke to Samir El-Attar. The situation sadly, has
not improved. 'Every day we receive threatening calls,' he told
us. 'Even my daughter was threatened. People are still frightened
to come to the shop, our customers are stopped and searched in
the street outside the shop and our income has been slashed by
half.' Robert Mendick must be so proud of himself. As for the
question of the Evening Standard being allowed to get away with
it, El-Attar and his lawyers are still 'giving them the chance'
to properly apologise and set the record straight, but if they
don't, which seems likely, he says 'we are of course going to
take them to court'. In the meantime, the paper that hates London
will carry on as normal.
Might we suggest in conclusion that Charles Clarke extend his
new, improved hate laws to British citizens, and for the crimes
of fomenting serious criminal activity and fostering hatred which
might lead to inter-community violence, the entire staff of the
Evening Standard is sent as far away from London as is humanly
possible.
- The Friday Thing
-
sob@thefridaything.co.uk
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NOTHING TO DECLARE
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'Hundreds of thousands of deaf people travel on tubes and
buses like everyone else. They would not stop if the police
shouted at them because they simply would not hear.'
- letter to The Guardian
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KEN LIVINGSTONE: ENOUGH ALREADY
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2005 is proving a worryingly anti-Semitic year so far in British
politics. Excepting of course the total lack of anti-Semitism.
This week it was Ken Livingstone's turn to be taken out and shot
for remarks he made last Thursday to Oliver Finegold of the
Evening Standard.
What you don't hear on the recording on the internet of course is
Ken holding a comb to his top lip and goose-stepping off down the
street. Neither do you hear him tossing his copy of Mein Kampf in
Finegold's smug faux-offended face. And of course neither of
those things happened. Because although Livingstone may be many
things - petulant, crapulent, annoying, whining, brash,
insensitive, thoughtless - he isn't anti-Semitic. Or at least
that's what those who claim to know him will have us believe.
To give him his - ahem - due, he certainly doesn't come across
that way. On this particular occasion he was merely telling a
journalist whom he happens to consider a reprehensible scumbag
precisely that. So he took the Holocaust's name in vain in the
process? Hey, we've all done it. It may be crass and boorish, and
it certainly isn't what they teach you at politician's school,
but should we really condemn him for that? He was pissed, and
pissed off, and he tossed a spirited, hyperbolic pop at someone
he loathes. Fuck it. Good for him.
Even better of course for Herr Finegold. We'll bet the fillings
in our teeth that he has *never* been so happy to use his Hebrew
credentials to win points. (And if we're wrong, we'll say, 'Yeah,
whatever. Sorry.' If you force us.) 'I'm actually quite offended
by that,' he said, with the same tone you hear when you've
insulted someone's mother and they come back with, 'Actually my
mother's dead and I really don't appreciate your comments.' Well,
boo hoo. That was the frigging idea in the first place.
Livingstone was *trying* to offend him. He did a damn good job.
He should be fending off bouquets of congratulation, not
exhortations to apologise.
Clearly, there are people who admire and applaud Ken
Livingstone's outspokenness, relishing each and every enhancement
to his reputation as a slightly more enlightened Prince Philip.
We count ourselves amongst them. In November 2003, he was the
only member of the government with balls enough to describe
George Bush as 'the greatest threat to life on this planet that
we've most probably ever seen.' Ditto his comments six months
later regarding the Saudi absolute monarchy: 'I just long for the
day I wake up and find that the Saudi royal family are swinging
from lamp-posts and they've got a proper government that
represents the people of Saudi Arabia.' Over-the-top certainly,
but surely a lot healthier for our democracy than the usual bland
reactionary sound-bites we have come to expect from our
politicians.
Having said all that, there are a great many people who think Ken
should actually lose his job over his remarks. These tend to be
the same ones who argue the anti-Semitism. How *dare* he liken a
Jew to a Nazi? they whimper. What a disgrace. What an insult.
What utter balls. These people seem to forget that Jews are
people too, and it was only because they were expressly
prohibited from doing so that none of them happened to find work
as concentration camp guards. Besides which, would Ken's remarks
have been any less offensive if Finegold had been Christian?
German maybe? If Finegold is also homosexual, will that make the
insults twice as offensive?
What was truly offensive was Finegold's piece in the Standard on
Tuesday, headed, 'I am at a loss why he felt the need to attack
me.' No, but seriously. Who do you think you are kidding, Mr
Finegold? Surely you can hazard a guess. Later in the same
crocodile-tearful, weeping-to-the-headmaster piece, he writes:
'His refusal to apologise or see the harm he has done has only
made the situation worse.' Oooh, the harm. In this however, he
may have a point. Observe after all, how Livingstone's refusal to
apologise has forced the Sturm und Standard to trivialise the
memory of the Holocaust even further, dragging the dignity of the
survivors through the mud of a wholly unnecessary round of
political infantilism. The Friday Thing offered Finegold the
opportunity to justify his and his rag's heavy-handedly
hysterical 'Nazi Row' embroidery, but he politely declined.
Probably too busy repeatedly high-and-low-fiving himself to
climax.
Then again there are those who point out Ken's hypocrisy in
damning all Daily Mail Group employees as Nazi sympathisers when
he himself has written restaurant reviews for the Evening
Standard. Ken counters that the Standard wasn't a hotbed of
reprehensibility under its previous editor Max Hastings. It's
that moral slattern Veronica Wadley he can't stand. But speaking
of hypocrisy, on Wednesday, Tony Blair was answering
'spontaneous' questions from the public on Channel 5's The Wright
Stuff, a show brought to you by Princess Productions, currently
winning almost universal admiration for their latest must-see,
'The Friday Night Brand Theft Ideas Drought'. 'Anne from Sussex'
called in. She wanted to know if it was time for Ken to
apologise. 'Yes,' said Blair. 'It's a simple answer.' Ha! What
jaw-dropping chutzpah! Award yourself a fine gold star, Tony.
Tony Blair, ladies and gentlemen, will only apologise for
something if it happened over 30 years ago and definitely,
clearly, obviously had nothing to do with him. The day Tony Blair
issues the following statement: 'I apologise, without
reservation, mitigation or hope of forgiveness, for every single
one of the horrible, inhumane lies I have told over the last,
let's say, ten years' is the day he can attempt to pressurise Ken
Livingstone into apologising for speaking his mind to someone he
has absolutely no respect for.
Sadly, we fear that with Tessa Jowell, Sally Hamwee, The Jewish
Board of Deputies, The Holocaust Educational Trust, The Standards
Board, the Conservative group at the London Assembly, various
genuine Holocaust survivors, Michael 'Fucking' Howard, most of
the world's press, Balls-out Blair *and* Page 3 stunna Peta, 18,
from Essex all asking Ken to roll over in the bullshit and beg
forgiveness for having a personality and a spine, this bandwagon
is set to roll for a short while longer.
Oy. This country is getting more like Nazi Germany every day.
-
backingtheyid@thefridaything.co.uk
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NOTHING TO DECLARE
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'Some of our staff were on a bus near King's Cross as the
silence was marked. They recorded the tribute, and you can
hear it here.'
- Sheila Pulham, Guardian newsblog
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HARRY POTTER: HOCUS POCUS, MEDIOCUS
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This week BBC News Online contained the fantastic headline:
'Evil' Harry Potter day cancelled
The story? This:
'A primary school cancelled a Harry Potter day over
complaints it could lead children into "areas of evil".
'Pupils from The Holt Primary School in Skellingthorpe,
Lincs, were planning to dress up as witches and wizards. But
the event - to mark the launch of the new JK Rowling book -
was scrapped after parents and a local rector expressed
concerns about witchcraft.
'Headteacher Paul Martin said the rector claimed he was
seeking "to lead our children into areas of evil"... In a
letter to parents, Martin wrote: "When I received a letter
from the rector which suggested that I was 'seeking to lead
our children into areas of evil', I felt that the situation
was escalating disproportionately...'
And so he cancelled the Harry Potter day. But who's got the most
potential to harm children here? JK Rowling and her satanic imp
Harry Potter, or a loony tunes God botherer and some equally
strange head teacher. Harry Potter may lead children into areas
of shit books, but at least the overriding message isn't 'It's
perfectly normal to be stark raving bonkers.'
But leaving aside Harry Potter's obvious potential to drag you
into the clutches of Satan, we can't say we're exactly thrilled
at the next installment being published. Partly because of the
endless, mind-numbing hype, but mainly because of the sheer
mediocrity of Harry Potter. (Mediocrity which, it must be said,
we wish we'd thought of.)
Like the new Star Wars films and Terry Pratchett, there comes a
point where you could make people buy a turd on a string if the
marketing is right and people remain largely undiscerning about
how they fill their oh-so-finite lives. Which is all the more
reason to get cracking on a shit children's book. TFT presents
the first installment of our own mediocre novel:
...
BARRY POPPER AND THE CHAMBER OF ELF GOBLINS, OR SOMETHING
'Cripes,' said Hermione. 'This is a bit like Mallory Towers
crossed with The Magic Faraway Tree.'
'Yes,' said Barry. 'There's something distinctly recycled about
the whole thing.'
'I concur,' said Frodo.
Suddenly a chill/mist/sense of foreboding [delete as applicable]
descended upon the Chamber of Elf Goblins. Barry heard footsteps.
But whose footsteps? Voldemort? Darth Vader? The Child Catcher?
The Shoebomber Richard Reid?
Whoever it was, it was bound to be a presence of evil, the purest
and most terrifying evil imaginable. A figure loomed out of the
shadows - a figure who, we would reiterate, was bound to be
absolutely evil and terrifying.
But it was just Ron. And you can expect a few more false twists
like this before you get to the end of the book. 267, to be
precise.
'Anyway,' said Barry. 'Let's get on with whatever the fucking
story is this time.'
'Well, when the wizards of Zogramuff invested the Philosopher's
Stone with the magical powers of the ancient ways, they decided
that its power was too great for one mortal alone to wield and
gave it over to Bunkle the Giant to keep safe from evil in the
Tower of Whatever in case the Dark Times should descend and the
Night Waddlers should return from their banishment by Ziggurat
the Unicorn King who lived in the ancient land of Moldax bringing
wisdom to all who stroked his horn but Voldemort had vowed to
make the Philosopher's Stone his to bring about acts of great
evil and a dominion of darkness that would last for aeons
throughout the centuries forever and forever,' said Hermione.
[Editor's note: LIKE IT! GREAT WAY TO FILL SPACE!]
'Cripes,' said Barry, again. 'Then it is our duty to return the
Philosopher's Stone to it's rightful place at...'
Barry's voice trailed off.
'What is it Barry?' said Ron. 'Have you sensed evil?'
'No,' said Barry. 'I've just... sort of... lost interest.'
-
childcatching@thefridayproject.co.uk
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RICHARD WHITELEY: A TEXTIMONIAL
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gudbI richd wItlE
u wr mch-lvd
Evn bI thOz hu hAtd u
u wr a jOk rapt in a cnundrm
solvd bI deth
dd dd dddd bU
http://digbig.com/4dtyx
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JACKSON CONDENSED
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The Michael Jackson trial is finally over, with the expected
result - a media explosion like that of a giant piñata full
of little bits of news. No innocent fact has been left
unsullied, no detail of the case and its possible
repercussions safe from the groping hand of ill-considered
commentary. The most famous thing ever to happen to the
best-known individual ever born has blown itself out,
leaving a trail of bodies of analysis like dying wildebeest
across a media Serengeti.
For ease of reference and regurgitation, and because frankly
there's a fraction of fuck all left to say, TFT provides you
with the pick of the Jackson trial newsbones.
...
1) He's been exonerated. But what has this gruelling ordeal
cost the King of Pop?
2) The gruelling ordeal is over. But who is really going to
have to pay for it?
3) The King of Pop's finances are in tatters. But what of
his reputation?
4) Jackson's reputation is in shreds. But what of his
legacy?
5) A jury cleared him. But was he guilty?
6) He's not guilty. But is he?
7) He's guilty. Innit?
8) The gruelling ordeal is only just beginning. But with
only his legacy to pay for, what of his financial guilt?
9) The trial is over. What are we going to do for news?
10) Michael Jackson - a pre-posthumous retrospective.
...
Next week: George 'been busy' Best.
-
jacksonbollocks@thefridaything.co.uk
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BOUND FOR DA RELOAD
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"When the President says 'go'... it's hammer time."
- Vice Admiral Timothy J. Keating (U.S. Navy)
...
That call to arms in full...
"Well, here we are and here we are and here we go. All aboard and
we're hitting the road. Because we want to. And you may ask
yourself "Am I right... Am I wrong?" And you may tell yourself
"My God, what have I done?". Mamma mia! Bend down low, let me
tell you what I know. I'm the leader, I'm the leader, I'm the
leader of the gang, I am. Let's get ready to rhumble.
You have to show them that you're really not scared. You're
playing with your life, this aint no truth or dare. They'll kick
you, then they beat you, then they'll tell you it's fair. So beat
it! The boys are back in town.
It's the eye of the tiger, it's the thrill of the fight. Rising
up to the challenge of our rival, Mr Boombastic. The winner takes
it all. Have I the right? I've got the power. All kinds of
everything. Great balls of fire, pink macaroons and a million
balloons and performing baboons and... I got you babe. You rock
my world. Oops I did it again.
I heard it through the grapevine... Saturday night's alright for
fighting. This is what we've waited for, this is it boys, this is
war. The President is on the line. And when the President says
'go'... Stop. It's hammer time."
-
collaborateandlisten@thefridaything.co.uk
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TIME COMPUTERS: A TEXTIMONIAL
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gudbI tIm cmputrs
ur srvis ws sht
& so wr ur cmputrs
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TFT MEETS... RICKY GERVAIS
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Star of The 11 O'Clock Show, Meet Ricky Gervais and The Office,
D.J on XFM, celebrity boxer and now a Golden Globe nominee -
Ricky Gervais is a busy man.
Imagine how grateful we were, then, when he agreed to provide
answers to the following questions...
...
> The Cheeky Girls - which one is your favourite and why?
The scary, goofy, thin one, for all those reasons.
> Have you ever nearly died?
I choked on some dust once and couldn't breathe.
> Have you ever declared love for someone, only to be hideously
rebuffed?
No.
> Can you give us an example of something from The Office which
is drawn from personal experience?
Lots. I built a wall of files like in episode one series one. I
glued a friend's phone and called him just like in episode three,
series two.
> Can you sum up David Brent's sexual psyche in four words?
In four words, no.
> What tends to happen in your dreams?
I drive a big pink train around. Only joking. I don't think I've
got any recurring themes.
> Do you think Status Quo have ever topped their 'Matchstick Men'
song?
No.
> If you were to go mental in a supermarket, what would be your
weapon of choice, and why?
That angry donkey from Arabian Knights because strictly speaking
it wouldn't be my fault.
> Have you ever been to Minsk? If not, what do you think it might
be like?
No. Probably a bit like Moscow.
> Fighting Grant Bovey: did you discover something about yourself
in the course of the fight?
Yes. I'm not a real boxer.
> Who would you like to fight next?
That stupid supermarket manager who let a mad man with a donkey
into a crowded shop.
> What is the colour scheme of your bedroom?
Bluey/green .
> Are you happy?
Bit of a cold but otherwise yes.
> What would you do if you suddenly found yourself reincarnated
as a woodlouse in a drainpipe in central Leeds?
Move away from the light.
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NOTHING TO DECLARE
=
'Some of our staff were on a bus near King's Cross as the
silence was marked. They recorded the tribute, and you can
hear it here.'
- Sheila Pulham, Guardian newsblog
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PRIME SUSPECTS
=
Ten days after the first round of London bombs the country was
'aghast' at the probability that the bombers were not, as Mail
readers had been hoping, illegal immigrants, but likely as not
four 'ordinary lads' from West Yorkshire. As a result, alert yet
small-minded citizens hoping to avert any fresh tragedy are now
having to put aside their long-held prejudices with a sigh, and
reprogramme their inner radar according to new stereotypical
profiles. Glaring openly at meek olive-skinned men with beards
and rucksacks will no longer be de rigeur - instead, prepare to
get quietly hostile and reach for the nearest alarm when you come
face to face with a whole new round of potential
perps'n'traitors.
...
1) The bombers were apparently from the suburbs of Leeds. Listen
out for flattened vowels, look out for flattened caps, and beware
of unusually pristine-looking hand-raised pigeons. Such pigeons
may blend in almost unnoticeably with the London natives, but may
be stuffed full of Alka-Seltzer and ready to explode at any
minute.
2) One suspect was said to be a 22-year-old sports science
graduate. Look out for pissed-off ex-students upon whom the
realisation is slowly dawning that although they know more than
most people about tendons, they've just got themselves into huge
debt for no actual advantage over other job-seekers, resulting in
motivation enough to blow themselves, and as many non-graduates
with good jobs as possible, to smithereens.
3) This same suspect was said to 'love football and cricket'. We
always suspected it - people who like sport are mad and
dangerous. If you see a large gathering of people in a sports
ground, pub or park, chanting eerie incomprehensible calls to
arms, phone the police. Look out for men with the distinctive
physical attributes of beer bellies, slack jaws and rampant
sunburn (their religion dictates that protective sun lotion is
for poofs). If you hear anyone discussing England's form in the
run up to the Ashes, punch them unconscious. It is your civic
duty.
4) Another suspect, 19 years old, was described as being 'off the
rails', but 'suddenly changed and became devoutly religious'.
This proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that being a teenage lout,
breaking people's windows and screaming at old people like in the
Aphex Twin video for 'Come To Daddy' is in fact beneficial to
society. If horrid children behave in an anti-social manner,
spitting at you and kicking your shins, do not chastise them.
Rather, smile indulgently and give them some sherbet. They may
not know it, but they're doing their bit for a safer Britain.
5) Remember - the only way to be sure that you do not miss anyone
suspicious is to be suspicious of everyone. Even yourself. The
next time someone asks you if you packed your bag yourself,
reply: 'Well, yes, but that doesn't mean there isn't a bomb in
it, does it? I might have packed the bomb myself and could still
answer truthfully that yes, I packed the bag myself. Just my say-
so doesn't prove anything. Nor does my passport - terrorists
still have identities, you know, and most of them don't even have
any prior convictions before they embark on their final mission.
I might not even know I've packed a bomb, I might have been under
hypnosis at the time. I demand that you detain me just in case.'
-
itcouldbeyou@thefridayproject.co.uk
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NOTHING TO DECLARE
=
'Of course, we like making jokes about Johnny Frenchman just
as much as he likes making them about us. But our jests are
underpinned, always, with a respect for the place and its
marvellous culture - the fabulous countryside, the superb
food, the magnificent wines, the soaring cathedrals and all
those actresses.'
- Simon Heffer, The Daily Mail
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ADVERJISM: THE IMMUTABLE LAWS OF ADVERTISING
=
Michael Buerk might find some succour in a new book, The Future
of Men, which says that men are tiring of their portrayal in
adverts. You know the sort of thing: James Nesbitt buys a load of
computer kit but it takes a small girl to point out that you have
to turn it on.
Sadly, this level of ineptitude does not make you adorably
hopeless. It just makes you a useless cunt.
These weren't the exact words used by Marian Salzman, a
commentator who for once has worked in the industry she's writing
about, but she does say that male foibles, as portrayed in
adverts, are clichéd and outdated. She could have gone a bit
further. While it's tiresome to see male characters in adverts
who don't resemble anyone you know, what's perhaps worse is the
absolute reliance of advertising on its own regurgitated clichés.
In fact, you start to wonder if there's some sort of copywriter's
bible...
...
THE COPYWRITER'S GUIDE TO REAL LIFE
1) Men are obsessed with sex but will forego sex in order to
watch football or drink beer.
2) Women are locked in a constant battle with their weight/body
shape/hairstyle.
3) Career success is entirely based on your ability to impress
your boss.
4) Mums are often harassed but NEVER depressed/unable to cope.
5) Any act of male stupidity (e.g. walking across a clean floor
in muddy boots, putting the dog in the dishwasher, etc.) will be
met with a wry smile, not genuine annoyance/anger.
6) Married men will flirt with other, younger women but NEVER act
upon it.
7) Anyone with a scientific career will have a crap haircut and
dreadful clothes.
8) If you work for the emergency services, you are a better
person than the general population.
9) Elderly relatives NEVER suffer from senile dementia.
10) Scandinavians are, without exception, blonde and beautiful.
11) Women have jobs they never do in real life, e.g. dockworker
(who looks like a model).
12) Children will not eat fruit or vegetables. Ever.
13) Both men and women find driving deeply pleasurable, never
boring or stressful.
14) Men are inherently lazy/slobbish; women are the reverse.
15) Chocolate, however, will cause women to immediately fall into
the languor of the opium eater.
16) High street bank staff are (A) friends of the customers, and
(B) of slightly above-average attractiveness (only if female).
17) Modern men own a cat.
18) Hot beverages have miraculous rejuvenating effects.
19) Professional people have strangely trivial preoccupations,
e.g. a female barrister who is morbidly obsessed with finding a
healthy snack bar.
20) All women (except stay-at-home housewives) have interesting
and enjoyable careers.
21) Any over-the-counter medical product will work instantly and
100 per cent effectively, e.g. Lemsip will immediately remove all
symptoms of colds and flu.
22) Children know more than adults.
23) Women never merely hop in and out of the shower, instead
preferring to act out some sort of soapy Dance of the Seven
Veils.
24) School is a happy experience for all children.
25) Tortilla chips are the most exciting experience any group of
young people can experience.
26) Playing bingo is THE number one pastime among 18-25 year old
British women
...
Of course, like most clichés, there's a certain element of truth
in some of these. If lots of women weren't constantly trying to
diet, there wouldn't be much point in flogging SlimFast, miracle
diets and crap like soap that claims to firm/tone. Likewise if no
men ever stayed out all night with the lads, pissing off their
partner in the process, ads based on this theme would be
bewilderingly incomprehensible to most people.
And we've all meet individuals who are far worse than any
advertising cliché. Women who really do think they're 'having it
all', because they've got a lowly job in marketing (and won't
shut the fuck up about it), or men who are unpleasantly sexist
lager louts, rather than the happy-go-lucky lads of most beer
commercials.
But Salzman's point is that the portrayal of men as inept, lazy,
slobbish, ruled by their penises, etc. is outdated because men
are, basically, getting a bit nicer and less blokeish.
Unfortunately Salzman betrays her roots in advertising by
claiming the existence of the 'ubersexual' - a more sophisticated
male who is masculine and confident but stylish and in touch with
his feminine traits.
In other words, inventing yet another stereotype, ripe for
regurgitation by her colleagues in adland.
-
sadvertising@thefridaything.co.uk
-----------------------------------------------------------------
NOTHING TO DECLARE
=
"I'll say something right now. He operated on very sound
intelligence."
- George W. Bush defends Tony Blair
-----------------------------------------------------------------
DEAD SOLDIER TV: THE ETIQUETTE
=
Short of admitting you sleep with your sister, there are few
things more taboo than not breaking down in tears on hearing of
the death of Our Boys. And while the death of the military
policemen in Iraq is an awful thing at a fundamental human level,
we didn't know them, so we're not going to cry crocodile tears.
However, this is not an attitude that would go down well with
politicians, journalists and army officers, all of whom seem to
subscribe to a strange etiquette designed for TV coverage of dead
soldiers...
> Etiquette for politicians
If you're a politician, begin TV interviews with the phrase
"Firstly, our thoughts must be with the families of the
servicemen who lost their lives* so tragically..." even if
you're being interviewed about the London Olympics. It's also
worth skirting round that irksome business of it being your
policies that indirectly led to the soldiers being killed.
(* Never say 'died' or 'were killed')
Also remember that soldiers are better than other people, and
thus their deaths are far more tragic and noteworthy than someone
who works in a factory. Other 'untouchable' social groups
include: policemen, nurses and anyone connected with showbiz.
(NOTE: Also remember some social groups are intrinsically
worthless and any discussion of them must be conducted as though
you're doing them a favour by not having them gassed. These
include asylum seekers, smokers and teachers.)
Finally, always refer to any dead soldiers as 'heroes', thus
blurring the distinction between someone who drags a wounded
comrade from a minefield under enemy fire, and a non-combatant
from the King's Own Catering Corps who happened to be in the
wrong place at the wrong time.
...
> Etiquette for Journalists
If you're a journalist - especially a TV journalist - any report
about dead soldiers MUST contain the words 'tragic', 'poignant'
and 'heroic'. Any suggestion that these were professional
soldiers who accepted death and injury as an occupational hazard
and may even have been quite keen to have a crack at the Iraqis
must be ruthlessly expunged. Instead any report about dead
soldiers must imply that soldiers getting killed in a war is as
unexpected as finding your cat programming the video.
Remember to put on that solemn voice and slow your rate of speech
to about 20 wpm. If you don't feel any genuine sorrow over the
death of total strangers, think about the bit in Stuart Little
when the cat tells him he's been rejected by his family.
If you're doing the live commentary about the bodies being
brought back and unloaded from the plane, remember to fill any
dead airtime with Alan Partridge-style inanities, eg. "The
pallbearers are marching into what is almost a cathedral-like
space, this huge aircraft, the workhorse of the RAF..." (Actual
Brian Hanrahan comment)
If you're a cameraman, illustrate the demise of your fellow man
with endless shots of a transport aircraft taxiing around RAF
Brize Norton.
...
> Etiquette for army officers
Remember all comments about the dead must contain the phrase
'they had a job to do', as though we invaded Iraq to put up some
shelves.
If you're a posho officer, remember to adopt an unfeeling tone
that's reminiscent of one of the arrogant officers in Sharpe's
Rifles... "Trying to encourage people to write and talk about
what happened makes it all much easier...", as though grief is a
logistical problem that needs to be solved, rather like deciding
where to build a pontoon bridge.
If you're asked to comment on live pictures of coffins being
brought back from Iraq, make sure you say something slightly
inappropriate at a choice moment, eg. "Poignant. This is what
it's all about..." just as the first coffin appears.
-
makethman@thefridaything.co.uk
-----------------------------------------------------------------
NOTHING TO DECLARE
=
"Like Wembley is synonymous with Tennis, snooker is synonymous
with Sheffield."
- Sports Minister Richard Caborn
-----------------------------------------------------------------
THINK OF THE FISH
=
New findings concerning the intelligence of fish are causing
ripples in Whitehall where government big-wigs are said to be
considering moves to top the furore over the fox-murder ban with
a total ban on angling.
The shock news that fish are actually fin-flapping brainiacs was
dredged up in a seemingly ludicrous study carried out by Dr
Theresa Burt de Perera at Oxford University. She told the Daily
Telegraph, 'The public perception of them is that they are pea-
brained numbskulls that can't remember things for more than a few
seconds.' Telegraph readers nodded knowingly. 'We're now finding
that they are very capable of learning and remembering, and
possess a range of cognitive skills that would surprise many
people.' Gadzooks!
But how are they finding this? How exactly do you test the
intelligence of a fish? Well, there are a number of ways. You can
make it watch reality TV for one, and monitor the expression on
its face as Rebecca Loos masturbates a wild boar and Stan
Collymore pants in the background. Alternatively, you can build
it an obstacle course, and observe how it builds a 'mental map'
of its surroundings. This was the method chosen, and the feat
observed by Dr Burt de Perera. 'A feat that defeats hamsters,'
the Telegraph gushed. Surely that should've been *even* hamsters.
Meanwhile at the University of Edinburgh, thanks to extensive
interviews with an Australian crimson spotted rainbowfish, Dr
Culum Brown has discovered that this creature is capable of
remembering tank-layouts for as long as 11 months. 'This,' we are
informed, 'is equivalent to a human recalling a lesson learnt 40
years ago.' And God only knows what that is in Dog Years.
The fear of course, is that animal-lovers (such as Ms Loos
perhaps) will seize this opportunity to put an end to the
quotidian barbarity of angling. Dawn Carr, the director of PETA,
has already made this valuable contribution. 'This research moves
the debate along, by showing that fish aren't just swimming
vegetables.' Silly woman. They're not swimming vegetables at all.
They're meat. She goes on: 'The more we find out about fish, the
less likely people are to feel comfortable about impaling them on
a hook for fun.' No, no, no, no. Not so. This woman clearly knows
nothing of human nature. If anglers wanted vegetables, they'd be
gardeners. And neither do they do it for fun. Like those fox-
hunting outlaws before them, they do it for the thrill of the
chase. It's man against nature, in a vicious one-sided battle to
the death.
Bloodthirsty Rodney Coldron of the National Federation of Anglers
knows this only too well. 'Their intelligence just adds to the
interest,' he said. 'It would be awful if people were only
catching fish that were stupid. I think [the news that fish are
erudite and witty] might attract more people to fishing.'
We can but dream. They are after all, vermin. It's only a pity
they don't put up more of a fight, and maybe scream a bit when we
bash their pointless little heads in on a rock. Memories and all.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
THE SIGN THAT SAYS YOU'RE OUT OF TOUCH
=
Oh dear, oh dear. This week shit-filled fataurateurs, McDonalds
became a laughing stock when they unveiled a new online
advertising campaign for their (US only) 'Dollar Menu'. The ad
featured a smugly focus-grouped college-dropout hipster saying...
'Double Cheeseburger? I'd hit it. I'm a Dollar Menu guy'
Hoo boy. If only McDonalds' advertising agency had had the
wherewithal to consulting urbandictionary.com before parroting a
bit of overheard street-speak in a cynical attempt to appeal to
America's urban youth. Doing so, they'd have discovered that 'I'd
hit it' isn't actually a general 'street' expression of approval.
Rather it's a very specific euphemism for 'I'd fuck it'. As in
'Katie Holmes? I'd hit it.'
So now the Dollar Menu guy likes to fuck cheeseburgers. Fo
shizzle.
But what other slogans can we look forward to from the Dollar
Menu Guy in the coming months?
...
Quarter Pounder with Cheese? Now that's my kind of hot beef
injection.
The McRib? I'd love to cover that smoking rack with my special
salty sauce.
Chicken McNugget Happy Meals: I love to stuff cock in my
children's mouths.
Fries: Sometimes I put them in my ass.
-
imfuckinit@thefridaything.co.uk
-----------------------------------------------------------------
WAWIBF...
...DA BIBLE
=
Can you still get into heaven with an AK47? Now that homophobia's
two greatest apologists - hip hop and The Bible - have finally
joined forces, you probably can...
In France and Canada, 'hip' teens are casting aside their Eminem
CDs in their droves and reaching instead for a new rap version of
the Bible, which has been described variously as "fly", "dope"
and, perhaps most significantly, "word", and is selling like hot
crack - with sales this week reaching 140,000.
The funked-up hip-hop translation of the Good Book features all
our old favourites including, presumably (not that we've actually
read it), the Synoptik Gospels of MCs Matt-U, Marky Mark, F-Luke
and Puff John; classic biblical moments such as the Be-attitudes:
"Blessed are my homeboys and blessed are my hoes / blessed is the
Virgin when she's takin' off her clothes / Blessed are the pure
of heart, for they will drive a big 'ol car / with bags of bling
and a jumpin' sound system", etc; plus all your favourite
characters, including the Dirty Dozen disciples, Lot's wife and
Pepa, Isaiah T, a whole host of lepers, tax collectors, OG pimp
hustlers and righteous niggaz trying to keep their dicks hard in
a cruel and harsh world. Plus, of course, Dr Dre Himself -
straight outta Hebron. Peace out.
More Christ:
http://www.geocities.com/stat23mj/doesjesusrap.html
...HEALTHCARE
There are any number of ways to come a cropper in an American
prison. Get stabbed in the ear with a modified bedspring for
being a grass. Slip on the soap in the shower while trying to
evade the violent embrace of 'Julie'. Ironically choke on a
chicken bone whilst having your last meal before your execution.
But as of this week, prison is going to be even less safe than
putting your penis in the pickle-slicer. The US was alerted to
the rather iffy state of its correctional facilities this week
when a federal judge said he was ready to seize control of prison
healthcare and entrust it to a receiver, insisting 'extreme
measures' were required to stop the deaths of patients through
medical incompetence and neglect. He cited one sadist doc who
claimed that an inmate was faking his neck injury and would be
dancing the can-can within minutes, gaily moving the man's head
to and fro to prove it. The inmate is now paralysed, making those
humiliating cell toilet visits that bit more tricky. Happily
though, seven US prisons are doing their bit for prisoner health
by installing 'stun-lethal' electric fencing. These can be set to
shock the bejesus out of anyone who touches them once, and reward
a foolish second try with the kind of fatal electrocution you'd
normally have to wait years to get. Commentators are fretting at
the possibility of accidents or fatal pranks. Prisoners are
fretting at the possibility of finding some interesting
unidentified meat product in their stew. But nobody else really
gives a fuck.
...HAIRCARE
Apparently - and we never knew this - toffs share combs. Why? We
have no idea. It's just something toffs do. Like rugger, oik-
baiting and having sex with their siblings. We actually thought,
in our naivety, that toffs would be fussier, more finickity about
personal hygiene and suchlike than plebs. But no. This revelation
came as Anthony Steen, Tory MP for Totness, this week had a pop
at the House of Commons health and safety regulations committee,
which recently saw the removal of communal combs and hairbrushes
from Commons washrooms. 'Health and safety have run riot,' Steen
declared, his foppish hair all flapping and unkempt. The combs
were ditched because of the possibility of passing on headlice
and HIV. In that order. Steen doesn't give a fuck about any of
that. All he really cares about is combing his hair with combs
that have been used by other men who have just finished
urinating. It's a toff thing. And the fact that he can no longer
enjoy this service for free has absolutely infuriated him. So
he's been kicking up a fuss. Well we say good for him. It's a
rare thing indeed to find a politician who cares enough about
sharing combs not to waste his time on poverty and terrorism.
Indeed, if there were more politicians like Anthony Steen around,
they would probably all be sitting in a big gay sauna
together combing each other's hair.
...BRAZILIAPHOBIA
When Clenilda da Silva was shot in the pelvis this week, she
didn't feel a thing. This was because the plucky 49-year-old was
already dead. She was lying in state in a cemetery chapel in Rio,
relatives boo-hooing over her corpse when suddenly a shootout
between police and what have been described as 'a drug gang'
erupted in the street outside. As the bullets began to fly,
mourners scattered like ashes to ashes, and da Silva took one to
the hip.
The innocent victim's sister was distraught. 'This is just too
sad to get shot after death,' she said. At the time of writing it
is still not clear who was actually responsible for the bullet in
the dead woman’s pelvis, although it has to be said, it was
probably the police.
-
wawibf@thefridaything.co.uk
----------------------------------------------------------------
THE BACK SECTION: SOME THINGS FOR THE WEEKEND
----------------------------------------------------------------
COMPETITION
=
This week's competition has already been won. Better luck next
week.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
NEOLOGISTS' CORNER
=
Last week we asked you come up with some kind of optimistic
alternative to SAD, something to make bearable this forthcoming
winter of discontent. And boy oh boy oh boy, did you ever? You
sure did.
In last place is Andrew MacLachlan who sent in a single word,
'splintery'. Not an acronym of course, so not strictly speaking a
valid entry. Actually we're not sure it even was an entry, as it
was literally a single word in the title of an email. The only
reason we assumed it was an entry to Neologists' Corner is
because it rhymes with 'wintery'. No, you're right - it makes no
sense. Maybe you could explain yourself, Andrew?
In third place is Amanda with her rather jolly 'FAB - Frozen-
Arsed Buoyancy'. In second place is Nick with his even jollier
'Winter Induced Calm Kindly Extended by Darkness - WICKED!' But
the first prize goes to David Sekules, who writes:
'I was going to suggest: Seasonal Effective Disorder ...since
being unnaturally cheerful about a not-entirely jolly season
would still be odd, but: Glowing Late-Annual Delight sums up
the spirit of the requirement better, I feel.'
We couldn't agree more and we look forward to hearing, and maybe
even taking part in the following conversation:
Glum Person: What have you got to look so happy about? It's
minus five degrees, everywhere is snow, ice and permanent
darkness. You should be glum, like me.
Happy Person: Sorry, mate, can't oblige. I'm happy to report
I've got GLAD.
GP: What, Glowing Late-Annual Delight?
HP: Yep.
GP: What, all over?
HP: [beaming] Yep.
GP: Lucky bastard.
Thanks, David. Winter will never be the same again.
...
This week we'd like you to put a name to the all-too-common
affliction of not being able to say, 'I'm so sorry. I made a
mistake.' Arthur Fonzarelli had it. Blair and Bush have it in
spades. Robert Mendick oozes it. But what is it?
Good luck!
-
neologism@thefridaything.co.uk
----------------------------------------------------------------
THE SEXUAL DEVIANCY TOP 30
=
Now don't take that wrong - the 'deviancy' thing - if you, or
your weird friends happen to be represented here. It's not an
insult, as any deviant worth his/her/its salt knows only too
well. The badge of sexual deviancy must be worn with pride.
They're not all child molesters, you know. Although many of them
you wouldn't want babysitting for you either. Especially the ones
who like their women in nappies. But anyway, pipe down. Sexual
deviancy is bloody great! You only have to look at its opponents
- Nazis, Republicans, Anne Widdecombe and God.
There are next to no pop-ups and all links are safe for work,
particularly if you work in some kind of holding cell for sexual
delinquents. Some of them will make you smile. Some of them will
make you gag. Most of them will make you shake your head, wrinkle
your nose and think, 'Hey, I'm not so weird after all - except
maybe for that thing where I stroke the dog really thoroughly,
down there.' But don't worry about that. That's perfectly normal.
Now relax, insert something that was definitely not designed to
go into one of your orifices into one of your orifices, and then,
slow as you like, click yourself to climax.
1) Orifice Suggestion:
http://www.well.com/user/cynsa/explicar.jpg
2) ?:
http://www.balloonguys.com/preview/preview.html
3) Online Adult Baby:
http://www.dpf.com/boyslife.html
4) Men Who Wet Themselves:
http://www.dicktrickler.com
5) Missing The Point Surely?:
http://www.robospanker.com/robospankerpg1.html
6) Good Enough To Eat:
http://www.mukiskitchen.com/free1.html
7) Foot Love:
http://www.malefeet.com/pic_daily.php?daily_name=worship
8) Stump Lovers:
http://www.deviantdesires.com/kink/amputee/amputee.html
9) Girls in Diapers:
http://www.geocities.com/diaperedgirls2002/pictures.html
10) Soldiers In Shorts:
http://www.milism.net/BplusS.htm
11) Furversion:
http://www.skunked.com/BY_THE_TAIL/July2002.jpg
12. ?:
http://www.macrophile.com/~gideon/art/2001/color/Vintage.jpg
13) Latex and Rainwear:
http://www.geocities.com/maskedcouple
14) Hello Sailor:
http://www.seadogphoto.com/17501/17982.html
15) Brazen Voyeur:
http://www.sexcreep.com/obsceneteens.htm
16) Down Boy:
http://www.thedoghouse.org
17) Extreme Exhibitionist (extreme):
http://www.bettydodson.com/cuntmonica1.htm
18) Tales of Excessive Masturbation (excessive):
http://tinyurl.com/ypc
19) Self-explanatory:
http://www.bustyvampires.com/bustyvampires.html
20) Sweet:
http://www.gender-bender.de
21) Romance:
http://www.gayporncards.com/valentine.html
22) Celebrities Gagged:
http://www.bindher.com/manipulator/i.htm
23) Interactive Porn:
http://milked.free.fr/animated/index.html
24) Bukkake:
http://www.4-bukkake.com
25) Fleshlights:
http://www.fleshlight.com/main/prodinfo.cfm?id=42
26) Is This Sexual?:
http://www.microwrestling.com/short_sleeve_sampson.htm
27) Inflatables:
http://www.xydexx.com/inflatable/reindeer.htm
28) Realistic Vaginas:
http://www.transformation.co.uk/shopping/vaginas/
29) Unrealistic Penises:
http://www.fleshlight.com/main/products.cfm?id=1004
30) If You Opened Them All:
http://www.sexualrecovery.com/resources/selftests/csat.php
----------------------------------------------------------------
Contributors: Sarah Bee, Paul Carr, Alexander Bradley, John Camm,
John Cramer, Graham Pond.
----------------------------------------------------------------
HOW TO CONTACT US:
DO: Send general mail to:
feedback@thefridaything.co.uk or
use one of the addresses above.
DO NOT simply reply to this email - we won't get it.
We reserve the right to cut or edit your letter for reasons
of content or space. Or just because you don't know the
difference between 'your' and 'you're'.
...
Sex worker of the week: "I worked as a phone sex operator for a
very short time (one long long night) and can confirm that, bar
those who just wanted a chat, every caller wanted to move
straight to anal sex, with barely time for a what's your name and
what do you do? introduction. One American, who got very excited,
insisted on repeating the phrase "I'm fucking you hard in the ass
and you're coming", until I got annoyed and said, "It's one or
the other, mate," and he put the phone down. Oh well. Do you
think they were all gay, like Mr Aaronovitch says?" - Miranda
Sawyer (via email)
Arguably sexist reader of the week: "[Re: Popped Clog - The Myra
Hindley Is Dead] Oh my dear lord, you're going to get hate-mail
for the Hindley issue, you realise? Good to see I can still rely
on TFT to say the unsayable and to piss off its entire readership
with tongue lodged firmly in cheek. Keep up the fantastic work
chaps! (Is that sexist? Chaps and chapesses?)" - Peter Miles (via
email)
Sexism of the week : "[Re: The TFT Guide to His and Hers
Settings] What the fuck was that? Are you trying to impress the
ghost of that dead cunt Andrea Dworkin? Yes! Because men are all
horrible slobs, who smell, can't do anything but watch porn and
can't stop posturing for a fight, while women are an angelic,
spiritual and peaceful people who would never hurt a fly. Well,
fuck you, what sort of other tired and bigoted stereotypes can we
expect next week? Those crazy black people who dance around like
monkies and only eat fried chicken and melons? I know, how about
all those covetous Jews, eh? Always guarding their money, keeping
it from us! Yeah, fling shit at people, it's fun, but when you
present such a lopsided view it's just plain sexism, why did you
do it? Was there some emotional little lady you're trying to
impress with your 'feminist' credentials? I hope she bites your
cock off, that's if you've got the balls to put it in her mouth."
- 'Nick' (via email)
Realist of the week: '[Re: Top Fun] Ha! I just read that L. Ron
Hubbard page you linked to this week. Absolutely amazing. So let
me see if I've got this right - Tom Cruise is a scientologist and
he hates drugs; L. Ron Hubbard is the founder of scientology and
he was a drug addict! That is just so cool. It puts me in no
doubt - there *is* a god, and he is a complete atheist.' - Anna
Dodd (via email)
Boggled mind of the week: '[Re: The Seven Seven Special Issue] Or
alternatively... LONDON: Where no matter what happens, and how
many people are dead, there'll always be some cunts with an e-
zine prepared to knock out a couple of gags. Mindbogglingly
crass. Go fuck yourselves.' - Alex Hayes (via email)
Weep of the week: '[Re: The Seven Seven Special Issue]
Brilliant, dark, just what we needed. Bet some parsimonious
wankers will say it was tasteless. I for one, needed to cry with
laughter at your Haiku. Agreed - Get Well Soon, London.' - James
Mounter (via email)
Mail-reader of the week: '[Re: The Seven Seven Special Issue] You
might think that this funny but fucking grow up. There are people
who are still unaware whether people they know were affected by
the bombs and many people fighting for their lives in hospital
and you're making jokes about it. Cancel my subscription, I'd
rather read the Daily Mail than this shite.' - James Hulme (via
email)
Bone of the week: '[Re: The Seven Seven Special Issue] A
fantastic issue - well done. Just what we all need. Once again
you walk the boundaries of decent humour to good effect. It
sounds like I'm being sarcastic, but I'm not. Good old TFT close-
to-the-bone humour!' - Emily Dean (via email)
Sensible of the week: '[Re: The Seven Seven Special Issue] At
last some sensible comment among the emotive maudlin shite I've
been trying my damn-est to avoid.' - Simon Rushton (via email)
Salute of the week: '[Re: The Seven Seven Special Issue] I salute
you. Fantastic stuff. There is nothing we need more in time of
trouble that a shit load of tasteless jokes, and of course,
biting and apposite political satire. Not to mention slagging off
camera phones. Well Done!' - "d" (via email)
Heartfelt of the week: '[Re: Speaking Volumes] I just wanted to
say a heartfelt thanks to the person responsible for that
article. Being a Londoner I have felt a mixture of feelings in
the last 7 days. Of course like most people incredible sadness
for the families of those who lost their lives on an otherwise
innocent journey to work. Fear that it will indeed be repeated
and who knows when. But then comes the strange emotions, I find
myself crying for very little reason, but then feel an idiot for
feeling this way. Why should I cry? I lost nothing because of
those attacks, I lost no limbs, no life and no friends. So why do
I feel so sad? Also, when you compare this to other awful events
in the world it really isn't in the same vein as 9/11 (hence my
anger towards anyone calling this 7/7), or the tsunami, or indeed
the suicide bombs going off all the time in other countries. I
guess, partly, the reason I feel so at a loss, and so sad, is
because I did lose something that day. I lost my naivety, I lost
my trust, and London lost it's peace. Of course London lives on,
and apparently we show defiance to the bombers and terrorists
etc... but do we? really? I know I am afraid. I know that there
message did get across. But what else can we do? Stop going to
work each day? Never get on another tube or bus? That's silly. We
simply have no choice but to live on. We can't stop paying the
rent and the bills (and indeed for our travel cards!) because 4
bombs went off. But I find it hard to believe that they haven't
in some small way robbed us all of something, and in it's place
left fear. Back to the point of me contacting you. I am glad I
read your article, because last night I was unsure of what that
two minutes silence meant to me. Did it change anything? Did the
terrorists really care if the world went quiet for two minutes?
(They certainly weren't shaking in their hideaways). Did it
really help the families? Did it take away their tears? Did it
stop us being afraid to get on a tube? No, it did none of these
things... but maybe, just maybe, it made the world a friendlier
place to be for two minutes. Your article made me see what that
two minutes did mean to me.' - Laura Lea
Comeback of the week: "[Re: Gilham cleverly ends the article by
pointing out: 'As the late French chanteuse Edith Piaf would
sing, 'Non, je ne regrette rien'. Me neither.' Great. We're
pleased for you Cherri. But we certainly regret something -
bothering to read to the end of this non-article.] Yeah....I felt
the same about reading your boring little precie. At least I got
paid.....bet you didn't. And no.....I didn't subscribe to your
webbie. I waitied til it came online free. As we say in the
small-print Fuck you too." - Cherri Gilham (via email)
Précis, Cherri. Précis.
------------------------------------------------------------
(c) Copyright The Friday Thing 2004.
All rights reserved.
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