Scene and heard

The makers of this film were handicapped, in that the story was told from inside the head of an 8 year old boy, complete with repetitious thoughts extrapolated from things he had heard others say. It further missed much of the innocence of the book because the boy misunderstood so much of what was being said to him, that his thoughts were jumbled with these mis-hearings, such as, Out With (Aus Mit in German) for Auschwitz, and The Fury, for the Fuhrer. And the dramatization of the ending was changed somewhat from the book. This was done in such a way that the reviewer for the New York Times was able to get an entirely unintended understanding of the feelings of the father of the boy who is the centre of the story.

Unfortunately, not being as egotistical as Manohla Dargis, I am rather hamstrung, as I am unable to either reference or directly rebuff her opinions, as that would be to give away the ending here, as she did in the New York Times. I would certainly suggest that anyone wishing to see this fine film does not read that review. I rate the review as the worst I have ever read. Had I never read any Village Voice film reviews, I would also call it the most conceited review I have ever read. In the Voice, reviewers somehow tend to forget that they are supposed to be describing a film, seeming to believe that they are supposed to impress upon the reader how absolutely phenomenally brilliant they are. While considering that this movie trivialises the Nazis, this woman trivialises the entire film and gets it all wrong, either reflecting that she has a heart made of stone or that she has long since left the child in her behind.

The film is charmingly made. Not everyone in it is an awful character, although it certainly portrays the Nazi soldiers as dreadful. But they are partly incidental to the film, which is mainly about the friendship of Bruno, the son of the Commandant of Auschwitz, and Shmuel, the boy in the striped pyjamas. I would recommend the book more highly, but this film is excellent and will likely be remembered at Oscar time.

"Question marks will be asked about [insert coach's name] team selection"
"There is a question mark over [insert fighter's name] chin/stamina"
"There are still question marks over how long this recession will last"


WHAT THE FUCK, PEOPLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


These are question marks:

??????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????


These are questions:

When did people start calling questions, question marks?
Why do so many people call questions, question marks?
Are question marks still called question marks or are they question mark marks?


Note, dear friends, that each question is followed by a question mark.

I will be meeting Jan’s mother and brother for Thanksgiving – will have to go to Los Angeles to do so! So you would be right in thinking that things are going amazingly well between us. No details. Just to say, we’re both very happy to have met and excited about the future.

Jan and I went to the Bleecker Street Pesce Pasta and were greatly enjoying our Soul and Broccolli. I would recommend these to anyone based upon quality and flavour. However, my pleasure abruptly ended when something apperared to come out from under the broccoli . My first reaction was to swipe at it, but I realised afterwards that might not have been the best thing to do until I knew what it was.

And then it reappeared. A little cockroach. Had this been mentioned on the menu, I would have asked to substitute, say, almonds or a nice tangy sauce. But as I didn’t order it, and I have a thing against eating things that carry disease – especially if they are still alive. Actually, call me selfish, but I don’t even want to share my food with anything living other than my girlfriend. So I signalled for the waiter.

He provided surprise number two. After he had the food removed from the table – did I mention I lost my appetite? – he asked if I wanted something else: “some more broccoli perhaps?” Flabbergasted, I asked to see the manager. Initially, he just stood with his hands by his side, turned outwards pleadingly, and a rather clueless look on his face. After Itold him that I could have everyone out of there without paying their bills, he spoke. He said he didn’t know where it came from and offered the two meals free and coffee and dessert on the house. I left there feeling ever so slightly queasy, but poorer only to the tune of the tip.

Do I even need to suggest that people should avoid this place? No. I didn’t think so!

At the beginning of March, after a 5 month hiatus, road ‘work’ began on my block – supposedly the project was to do with replacing the aging water pipes. And sure enough, a mere 6 months after digging up the road, the shysters started laying water pipes.

On Friday, October 3rd, I could hardly believe my eyes when I came home from work, and for the first time in 7 months, there was no work being done on this block. Actually, let me re-phrase that, because for several of those months, this block was just a dumping ground and parking place for work being done on other blocks, and no work was done on it at all. And when it was, it was just the re-digging of holes that had previously been dug and filled in, dug, and filled in. So my re-phrasing is, for the first time in 7 months, the entire road was open. But it was a disgusting mess and it was only a matter of time before someone had to clean it up!

10 days later, the pavement at the end of the block was ripped up, and replaced in a mere 3 days.

And on Friday the 24th, approximately 15 yards on each side of the northwest corner of intersection of 86th Street and 4th Avenue was ripped up on my side. The following day, they opened up road on 4th Avenue, but their resurfacing work was uneven, and cars had to slow down as they approached the 2 inch dip, for fear of damaging their cars.

On the Monday, they dug deeper on 86th Street. On Tuesday, one half of it was laid to a level of 3 or 4 inches below that of the other side of the road. On Wednesday, that side was complete and the other half of this 15 yard stretch was laid to the lower level. The next day, that work apparently was complete, but the section was still blocked to traffic for one more day. But there was a hole that needed filling just beyond where they worked, and the rest of the block was still a disgusting hodgepodge of slapped on tar. However, they did even out their poor work on 4th Ave.



This week, they spent two days supposedly resurfacing another of the corners. However, it too was left in an apparently incomplete state as the dug up a third corner and another section of my block. These people are a curse! In England and in Montclair, New Jersey, I have seen entire blocks resurfaced in a day. In Brooklyn, 15 yards on one side of a road takes 8 days.

I have never seen resurfacing entailing digging a foot down and laying the road in two or three section. They obviously don’t have a clue about what they are doing, at least when it comes to road work and road-laying. They are clearly brilliant at screwing the City and its tax payers. It is a complete disgrace and I resent my taxes enriching some mafioso who has a construction company as a front for their criminal activity. Do they pay off the politicians to get the contracts or do they threaten them? There is obviously nothing at all honest about it!

On Friday, Jan and I went to Il Cortile, a superb restaurant in Little Italy - a lovely little stretch of Manhattan; really quite romantic to walk around. I’m sure everything on the menu is superb, but I must recommend the halibut, which was heavenly. I feel it my duty to inform people that the asparagus, which isn’t on the menu but we ordered as a side dish, turned up as a $15 item on the bill. Wow!

The restaurant largely emptied out between 9 and 10pm, and then an altogether different clientele came in. I have never seen anything like it. Everyone who walked in there looked like a character out of the Sopranos. It was quite an experience! I’d have loved to take a picture of them, but somehow think they wouldn’t have been happy with me doing so. And I really wouldn’t want to upset them. I really wouldn’t want to upset them! Of course, I could have said that I’m English and ask if I could please take a picture, but again, it didn’t take much thought to dismiss this. Not quite sure what I would have said if they had asked me why. And whereas I have missed out on a potentially great photo, I am alive, and on reflection, that is more important.

Barack Obama, brought up by a single mother, his father a Kenyan national, did something that 4 short years ago seemed impossible. He became President-Elect of the United States of America. They eyes of the world watched as everyone anticipated this great moment. But even though the result had seemed likely, if not by such a large margin, I don’t think anyone had anticipated exactly how happy they would be and exactly how much they would be affected by it.

I got a text from a Black friend who was so over the moon, he really wasn’t making much sense. But the words weren’t important. His emotion, plus the abiding image of seeing Jesse Jackson in tears, moved me to contemplate exactly what this election meant for African Americans. I don’t think it is for me to put this into words here. Anyone Black or mixed race reading this will not need me to try to express how they are feeling, although I certainly invite them to please leave comments.

Naturally, everyone I associate with is thrilled, whoever they supported when the whole process started. And in my discussions, they have certainly contemplated the meaning of what has really happened beyond a Democrat, or a Black man or a product of a broken home ascending to the Presidency. I hope those who supported McCain have recovered from their disappointment sufficiently to consider this, because we have witnessed history; we are living history. And January 20th will be a day that will live on forever.

The day before the historic Presidential election that showed American democracy at it’s finest and most hopeful, Mayor Michael Bloomberg proved that he has one of the hugest egos the world has ever seen, by signing into law the bill that reverses the democratic will of the people of New York City, 59% of whom (more literally 59% of the people who could be bothered to vote, but if you don’t vote, you don’t deserve an opinion) voted for term limits in 1993 and 54% of whom voted to re-affirm that decision 3 years later.

So what were the words Bloomberg chose to say as he signed his bill that reversed 2 democratic votes? “This is the right balance for Democracy”. What a bloody nerve! According to this man, his opinion is worth more than hundreds of thousands of New Yorkers, and his version of democracy is that it is fair for his opinion to carry more weight than any number of New York voters. It is really quite mind boggling to me that he can think that and get away with it.

People of New York: In a recent poll, 89% of you said that term limits should be put to another referendum; that only the people can overturn the will of the people - but the right balance for democracy is that only one opinion counts and yours doesn’t.

So now, a vote for Bloomberg in next years’ Primaries, should any Republican run against him, or in the Mayoral election in November 2009, will be a paradox, as it will be affirming the will of a person who has circumvented democracy. I trust, my fellow New Yorkers, you will do the right thing when the time comes, and throw this man out on his ear.

Mind boggling!