What passes for community service these days?
Today I was going about my business on an estate in Camden and I noticed a group of around 5 men dressed casually but with orange high visibility vests chipping away at a railing. They seemed to be removing paint in a very noisy and unproductive way. I asked a man who lived there what they were doing, and he said he assumed they were doing community service as they had been doing it for two weeks, and if they were council employees, then it was definitely not value for money.
I would have filmed this strange scene, but for the wolf whistles I received from them. I couldn’t see a supervisor to report them to, but it made start to think “what passes for community service these days?” I could certainly think of much more useful employment that would benefit both the ‘convicts’ and society
Friday, 16 July 2010
Guest post: What passes for Community service
Guestpost that I found blowing down the street on typewritten sheets of A4:-
Wednesday, 14 July 2010
London Bloggers Meetup:- Talk Talk
Wha, where, when... A month passes, I emerge from London's underground network, into Oxford Circus and Soho, only a few moments ago I was in darkest Wembley, eating Chinese and looking for my phone charger. The evening of the London Blogger's meetup has come round again.
I emerge blinking into the sunlight, looking for familiar sounding street names, and before long find myself outside the Talk Talk Customer Experience place. Large glass front, neon lights, there are many people inside.
I step in, fail to think of something amusing to write on a name tag, then go looking for people I know.
I find some and we chat. The talk covers many topics but one that sticks in ma heid is the Old Spice advert.
There is a speaker, this evening a cycling Rob talking about podcasting. Its a very indepth talk, covering what hardware to use (the latest Zoom recordery thing), what software to use (audacity) and what services to use to host and cast your pod cast. More of the details are at this link here, but what sticks in my mind is RadioKate's interruption pointing out that Audioboo has new features that the cycling Rob didn't know about.
Crikey, that must be unsettling, having you talk corrected by an audience member. I keep wondering what I'd talk about if it was me up there, what would I say that would hold people's attention, could I even hold people's attention at all.
The short train of thought lead me to ponder, would Andy the LBM organiser consider hosting a special, where all the regular bloggery meetuppery people had to do a 60 second talk. Some deal with twenty slides in a minutes or something. Would that entertain?
Anyhoo, the evening was hosted by talktalk, they were generous with their nibbles and booze and net access, I feel a bit guilty for the blog posts what I wrote back in February its not their fault, its BT with their hellish slow line connections. I hope that it doesn't matter who I direct my frustration at, as long as I vent it.
Regular readers of my blog will know I'm currently trying to write a screenplay, in the vague hope that someone reads it and decides its the greatest and most imaginative thing ever and then goes on to shower me with money and makes it. This you already knew.
I had an idea, a wee cutaway flashforward scene, like what they drop in to Scrubs or Lost. The scene involves a familiar character mentioning someone they know, some significant person in their like that the film's main protagonist doesn't know, the the flash forward to four years in the future, the protagonist finds themselves at a party or blogger's meetup, completely unrelated to four years earlier, chatting with a person who gives away just enough information to identify them as the person their friend mentioned. Then suddenly back to the narative.
As is my usual 'thing' for these blogger meetups, here's a list of bloggery people I spoke to.
Well, I think I've set myself a new record, cheesy grins all round.
Titter, chortle, guffaw.
I emerge blinking into the sunlight, looking for familiar sounding street names, and before long find myself outside the Talk Talk Customer Experience place. Large glass front, neon lights, there are many people inside.
I step in, fail to think of something amusing to write on a name tag, then go looking for people I know.
I find some and we chat. The talk covers many topics but one that sticks in ma heid is the Old Spice advert.
There is a speaker, this evening a cycling Rob talking about podcasting. Its a very indepth talk, covering what hardware to use (the latest Zoom recordery thing), what software to use (audacity) and what services to use to host and cast your pod cast. More of the details are at this link here, but what sticks in my mind is RadioKate's interruption pointing out that Audioboo has new features that the cycling Rob didn't know about.Crikey, that must be unsettling, having you talk corrected by an audience member. I keep wondering what I'd talk about if it was me up there, what would I say that would hold people's attention, could I even hold people's attention at all.
The short train of thought lead me to ponder, would Andy the LBM organiser consider hosting a special, where all the regular bloggery meetuppery people had to do a 60 second talk. Some deal with twenty slides in a minutes or something. Would that entertain?
Anyhoo, the evening was hosted by talktalk, they were generous with their nibbles and booze and net access, I feel a bit guilty for the blog posts what I wrote back in February its not their fault, its BT with their hellish slow line connections. I hope that it doesn't matter who I direct my frustration at, as long as I vent it.
Regular readers of my blog will know I'm currently trying to write a screenplay, in the vague hope that someone reads it and decides its the greatest and most imaginative thing ever and then goes on to shower me with money and makes it. This you already knew.
I had an idea, a wee cutaway flashforward scene, like what they drop in to Scrubs or Lost. The scene involves a familiar character mentioning someone they know, some significant person in their like that the film's main protagonist doesn't know, the the flash forward to four years in the future, the protagonist finds themselves at a party or blogger's meetup, completely unrelated to four years earlier, chatting with a person who gives away just enough information to identify them as the person their friend mentioned. Then suddenly back to the narative.
As is my usual 'thing' for these blogger meetups, here's a list of bloggery people I spoke to.
- Aref-Adib
- Nima
- Peter marshall - My London Diary
- Thomas debuzzy
- Tom - Flashboy
- RadioKate
- Pradeep - Blogger User
- James - Battle Theme London
- Angus
- Reyes
- Melissa - Miss Geeky
- As - BBC
- Anna - Completely Novel - cool book publishing site
- Phil - Red rocket
- Rob - Real cycling
- Anthony - Fresh Plastic
- Caroline - Caroline's Miscellany - London's historical curiousities
- Longhaired crazy seat slasher chap
- His less haired friend called Matt
And here's a list of folk I made vague eye contact with or possibly nodded at and they nodded recognition back
- Lolly - blog til you drop
- Tom - Tired of life
- Doreen owl elbows - Tasty Fever
- Andy Bargery - The Marketing Blagger
- Londoneer
- Tiki Chris
- Annie Mole
- Proactive paul
- Guitar churchy
Well, I think I've set myself a new record, cheesy grins all round.
Titter, chortle, guffaw.
Monday, 12 July 2010
Script doubts
Overcome with self-doubt now. I'm struggling to find anyone capable of reading more than three minutes of my Glasgow Indie EyeSpy Movie screenplay before they have an unstoppable urge to do the washing up or clean the house, or take up a new hobby or anything to avoid reading it.
Things from my past keep bubbling up. Should I include them. Would it dilute any themes I've covered. Is it too intrusive. Would I be opening old wounds.
Or on the otherhand, does it neatly sit on the same heap as 'Put the Book Back on the Shelf', and vague cousin of 'God Help The Girl'.
Do I include:-
Its easy to get lost in development hell. I gotta do things differently, regardless of my uncertainty about characters, subplots and events to include, I gotta put some footage together, gotta make more of a start, something concrete to show.
Things from my past keep bubbling up. Should I include them. Would it dilute any themes I've covered. Is it too intrusive. Would I be opening old wounds.
Or on the otherhand, does it neatly sit on the same heap as 'Put the Book Back on the Shelf', and vague cousin of 'God Help The Girl'.
Do I include:-
- The Owsley Sunshine's Watermelon curse thing as a subplot
- The many lineup changes of the Plimptons
- The arrival of the French Girls on the scene
- The Plimptons tri-quarterly symposium of pomp at the Tchai Ovna
- The passing of the EOTMC
- The arrival of Drive Carefully Records
- Nuts and Seeds's advantage over other Glasgow promoters
- Winchester Club DJ specials
- The rise of the Wolfknuckle
- The time Stuart bought me a gin and tonic at The Buff Club
- That strange night when I me and the wife were hanging out with Natalie Umbruglia and the guy who played Vincent Van Gogh in Dr Who
- The Royal We, Sexy Kids, Dot to Dot, Dananananaykroyd, Errors and that other band who's name evades me right now, but had David Roy in it
Its easy to get lost in development hell. I gotta do things differently, regardless of my uncertainty about characters, subplots and events to include, I gotta put some footage together, gotta make more of a start, something concrete to show.
Saturday, 10 July 2010
The most significant lesson
Not sure if this will be some kind of internet meme thing, but today I got me thinking about the most important/significant school lesson I ever had. Not from the greatest teacher, but the thing we learnt has made a big chunk of the man I am today.
It was a geography lesson, the teacher was a bit of a donkey, more interested in teaching football than geography and I guess he must have been mighty hungover in class on several occasions. Much of the geography he taught was on data collection and statistical analysis. We were thirteen or fourteen year olds in a big expensive school, we all lived up to twenty miles away from the school.
On this one occasion he gave us a task, we were to draw a map of our route to and from school.
But sir, we're not cartographers, how are we supposed to know the routes? Can we trace from an A to Z or the road atlas.
No we were to draw it from memory, the same route we taken to school every day for the past three years.
It was a hell of a task. Folk were gazing out of the window in despair. I remember Tom Binns's map just had the first mile or so, then an area labelled 'cloud of uncertainty', then he arrived outside the school.
But it made me wonder, had I had my eyes closed for so long. Did I actually not know where I was? It made me think more carefully, playing back the journey that I took every day. How did I get where I am. Can I retrace my steps just in my head?
Its not like the London Underground where you get on the train, then its just darkness all round until the next stop. God knows what the route is.
Then again, with the London Underground, can you remember the sequence of the stations on the line you take?
Can you remember the sequence of the streets on a Monopoly board?
So, aye. Mr Brennan's Geography class where we had to draw our own route to school, that was the most significant lesson I had at school.
It was a geography lesson, the teacher was a bit of a donkey, more interested in teaching football than geography and I guess he must have been mighty hungover in class on several occasions. Much of the geography he taught was on data collection and statistical analysis. We were thirteen or fourteen year olds in a big expensive school, we all lived up to twenty miles away from the school.
On this one occasion he gave us a task, we were to draw a map of our route to and from school.
But sir, we're not cartographers, how are we supposed to know the routes? Can we trace from an A to Z or the road atlas.
No we were to draw it from memory, the same route we taken to school every day for the past three years.
It was a hell of a task. Folk were gazing out of the window in despair. I remember Tom Binns's map just had the first mile or so, then an area labelled 'cloud of uncertainty', then he arrived outside the school.
But it made me wonder, had I had my eyes closed for so long. Did I actually not know where I was? It made me think more carefully, playing back the journey that I took every day. How did I get where I am. Can I retrace my steps just in my head?
Its not like the London Underground where you get on the train, then its just darkness all round until the next stop. God knows what the route is.
Then again, with the London Underground, can you remember the sequence of the stations on the line you take?
Can you remember the sequence of the streets on a Monopoly board?
So, aye. Mr Brennan's Geography class where we had to draw our own route to school, that was the most significant lesson I had at school.
RIP Raoul Moat
Did he have to die? Was that the only possible outcome from his release, rampage and the subsequent manhunt?
I was following the week's developments through the medium of Radio4, twitter, google maps/streetview and finally Sky News, it was thrilling and entertaining stuff. Reality more or spectacle, a pantomime than and Jason Bourne or Rambo First Blood movie.
Did he have to die? When the images came through of the standoff on Riverside in Rothbury, I was hovering over the scene in googlemaps, plotting out where the cameramen were, where the police cordon was, the ring of sharp shooters, and the iconic snarling tazercop. From streetview I could feel the terrain, some idea of lying on the ground, lying on the grass, bits of gravel pressing through. And when the rain came, that brought it all home, no escape, only one possible resolution to the standoff.
Its been a warm couple of days where I am in London, even a couple of showers a day doesn't get rid of the sweat and the grime. I can barely imagine a week's worth of it.
This one time when I was a healthy fifteen year old in Bolton, I took it upon myself to walk the fifty mile county boundary in a day, setting off into the heath and the hills at 5am and finally giving up twenty hours later, soaking wet with sweat and rain, hungry and aching. My ma came to pick me up from somewhere near Leigh, I woke up in my warm dry bed two days later.
So such end for Raoul Moat, only one possible outcome.
I've been an emotional kind of guy in the past, furious for exgirlfriend moving on, breaking up with me and picking up with someone else more successfully. My frustration vented with spreadsheets and graphs, or occasionally simmering for days, months, years until I can vent it badly disguised in unmade film screenplays and unpublished novels.
Not so for Raoul Moat, only one possible outcome for him.
What could the police have done differently? What could the police have done that wouldn't have so automatically lead to his death?
As the stand off first started yesterday even, I was certain of the one possible outcome. My drinking companion wasn't, she was more optimistic, "He could give himself up or the police marksman will take him out." No, neither of these things, there was only one possible outcome.
"Could they not tranquilise him?"
No tranquiliser works quicker than his trigger finger.
"Could they not sneak up behind him and snatch the shot gun away?"
Not with his finger on the trigger.
"Could an alcoholic hasbeen footballer turn up with chicken and a can of lager?"
Sure, but it wouldn't help.
"Could they not just wait until he falls asleep?"
Not with his finger on the trigger.
Since the rise of Section 44 and the rule of the Association of Chief Police Officiers, the public's faith in the police has been falling, and whilst most people haven't declared war on them, there was tangible sympathy for Moat's cause.
I must stress that when I come until contact with the police they're very polite and professional, and whenever I ask them for directions, which I often do, they're very help. Its just the police in the newspapers and in blog stories that I'm not so fond of.
I wanted a T-shirt, I have sympathy for dumped ex-boyfriends and those who sweepingly rally against the police.
It was the latter that damned him to death though.
He only killed one person, poor Chris Brown. Innocent Chris Brown. Who was he, what was he like. Did he have any unpublished novels, was he a key player in his local fiveaside team, on course to lead them to regional championship glory next season. Was he the best admin in the office, tipped for promotion. Was he secretly addicted to tetris on his touchscreen smartphone. Or looking forward to a summer holiday, booked, paid for, never to be taken. No wikipedia page for Chris Brown.
It puts the forthcoming Scott Pilgrim versus the World movie in perspective. In it Scott Pilgrim must defeat his new girlfriend's 7 evil ex- partners.
Meanwhile in darkest Tooting, a fifteen year-old called Akmol Miah set fire to his ex-girlfriend's housen killing her and her sister, because he'd been dumped. He was sentenced to life in prison.
The Scottish band The Just Joans have a sweet and funny song called Hideous Accident, its about a boy who with fingers crossed hopes his exgirlfriend's new boyfriend doesn't die in some hideous accident.
Its some time in the afternoon of the day after, I'm just back from getting Pringles from the corner shop. The newspapers there all bear headlines about the standoff, and some of the more later editions about how Moat has been 'caught' or 'captured'. Death moves to quickly for the deadwood press.
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Friday, 9 July 2010
The film making bug
When I was a youngster I wanted to be famous, rather than successful. I wanted to be an actor.
I tried my hand at it in the drama society at university, but it transpired I had no talent for it. My talent instead lay in quickly becoming president of the drama society, which then folded as everyone left.
I wanted to be a writer too, a little more successfully. I could sit in my hole typing away, printing and binding. Sure the first twenty or so copies of my novels were given away for free, but subsequently I've managed to sell a grand total of three copies.
My books are mostly autobiographical. Any imagination I once had, useful for writing fiction, was mysteriously lost in the mid-90s.
Anyhoo, occasionally I fall into the trap of film making.
I think I'm a dab hand with the old digital camera, my video webcasts of bands playing gigs in my bedroom in Glasgow are legendary, but as for drama on film, not so good. I can't direct, I can barely persuade other people to get in front of the camera, left alone do as I say.
This one time I was roused from apathy by a friend with an urgent need to make spoof Cillit Bang and car insurance adverts, I duly assisted and reaped thousands of youtube views, but that was a group effort, not driven by me.
Films driven by me, not so good.
Back in 2002 I wrote a great hundred page screenplay, sent it out to actors, tricked a university into buying an expensive digital video camera and the flailed wildly on my own for a few hours and gave up on the project.
But invigorated by watching Almost Famous on telly the other week, I'm back in the mind set.
The pitch is thrills in the Glasgow indie music scene 2002 to 2007.
I'm following the wikipedia entry on film making, writing a step outline, then a treatment, then a screenplay, and so on.
But self-doubt fills me, and distractions abound. I keep drawing the storyboard when that should come later. I keep pondering whether to get actual Glasgow scenesters to play themselves or should I use actual actors, isn't that a decision for the casting director, not me. How far ought the characters on the page deviate from those in real life, that should be a job for the script editor, not me.
Should I get funding or find someone else to do that for me. I'm doing it for free, but will anyone else? Is this another of those damned madcap schemes that fails miserably the moment it gets out of my bedroom?
If so, should I give up now?
Just how much nudity is really necessary?
Anyhoo. Gotta focus on dialog now.
If anyone reading this fancies reading the treatment its on googledocs here.
I tried my hand at it in the drama society at university, but it transpired I had no talent for it. My talent instead lay in quickly becoming president of the drama society, which then folded as everyone left.
I wanted to be a writer too, a little more successfully. I could sit in my hole typing away, printing and binding. Sure the first twenty or so copies of my novels were given away for free, but subsequently I've managed to sell a grand total of three copies.
My books are mostly autobiographical. Any imagination I once had, useful for writing fiction, was mysteriously lost in the mid-90s.
Anyhoo, occasionally I fall into the trap of film making.
I think I'm a dab hand with the old digital camera, my video webcasts of bands playing gigs in my bedroom in Glasgow are legendary, but as for drama on film, not so good. I can't direct, I can barely persuade other people to get in front of the camera, left alone do as I say.
This one time I was roused from apathy by a friend with an urgent need to make spoof Cillit Bang and car insurance adverts, I duly assisted and reaped thousands of youtube views, but that was a group effort, not driven by me.
Films driven by me, not so good.
Back in 2002 I wrote a great hundred page screenplay, sent it out to actors, tricked a university into buying an expensive digital video camera and the flailed wildly on my own for a few hours and gave up on the project.
But invigorated by watching Almost Famous on telly the other week, I'm back in the mind set.
The pitch is thrills in the Glasgow indie music scene 2002 to 2007.
I'm following the wikipedia entry on film making, writing a step outline, then a treatment, then a screenplay, and so on.
But self-doubt fills me, and distractions abound. I keep drawing the storyboard when that should come later. I keep pondering whether to get actual Glasgow scenesters to play themselves or should I use actual actors, isn't that a decision for the casting director, not me. How far ought the characters on the page deviate from those in real life, that should be a job for the script editor, not me.
Should I get funding or find someone else to do that for me. I'm doing it for free, but will anyone else? Is this another of those damned madcap schemes that fails miserably the moment it gets out of my bedroom?
If so, should I give up now?
Just how much nudity is really necessary?
Anyhoo. Gotta focus on dialog now.
If anyone reading this fancies reading the treatment its on googledocs here.
Friday, 2 July 2010
London/Glasgow streets
So for the forthcoming Glasgow Indie EyeSpy movie, I'm thinking of filming it in London, cos logistically Glasgow could be difficult to get to. To aid me in accurately portraying the former city for the latter, I'm compiling a list of streets, roads and places that the two have in common.
Queen Street - EC4R
St. Vincent Street - EC4
Great Western Road - Notting Hill
Bath Street - EC1V
Argyle Street - WC1H
King Street - WC2E
Queens Park - Brondesbury
Clyde Street - SE8 5LW
Rupert Street - W1D
George Square - SW19 3LD
Charing Cross - SW1A
Woodside Road - N22 Haringey
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