Film'n'theatre

"Leo Max Frank (April 17, 1884 – August 17, 1915) was a Jewish-American businessman whose lynching in 1915 by a party of prominent citizens in Marietta, Georgia drew attention to antisemitism in the United States and led to the founding of the Anti-Defamation League.

The superintendent of the National Pencil Company in Atlanta, Leo Max Frank, was convicted on August 26, 1913 of the murder of one of the factory workers, 13-year-old Mary Phagan. She had been strangled on April 26, and was found dead in the factory cellar the next day. Frank was the last person known to have seen her alive, and there were allegations that he had flirted with her in the past. His trial became the focus of powerful class and political interests. Raised in New York, he was cast as a representative of Yankee capitalism, a rich northern Jew lording it over vulnerable working women, as the historian Albert Lindemann put it. Former U.S. Representative Thomas E. Watson used the sensational coverage of the case in his own newspapers to push for a revival of the Ku Klux Klan, calling Frank a member of the Jewish aristocracy who had pursued "Our Little Girl" to a hideous death. Frank and his lawyers resorted to stereotypes too, accusing another suspect—Jim Conley, a black factory worker who testified against Frank—of being especially disposed to lying and murdering because of his race.

There was jubilation in the streets when Frank was found guilty and sentenced to death. By June 1915 his appeals had failed, but Governor John M. Slaton believed there had been a miscarriage of justice, and commuted the sentence to life imprisonment—to great local outrage, in part because Slaton was a partner in the law firm that had defended Frank. A crowd of 5,000 marched on Slaton's home in protest, and two months later Frank was kidnapped from prison by a mob of 25 armed men—the "Knights of Mary Phagan"—who drove him 150 miles to Frey's Mill, near Phagan's home in Marietta, and hanged him. A crowd gathered after the hanging; one man repeatedly stamped on Frank's face, while others took photographs, pieces of his nightshirt, and bits of the rope to sell as souvenirs.

On March 11, 1986, the Georgia Board of Pardons and Paroles granted Frank a pardon, citing the state's failure to protect him or prosecute his killers, though they stopped short of exonerating him. The names of the lynchers, though well known locally, were not made public until January 2000, when Stephen Goldfarb, an Atlanta librarian and former history professor, published a list on his website. The Washington Post writes that it includes several prominent citizens—a former governor, the son of a senator, a Methodist minister, a state legislator, and a former state Superior Court judge—their names matching those on Marietta's street signs, office buildings, shopping centers, and law offices today." So says Wikipedia.

You may think the lynching of a Jew would make a strange source for a musical, and indeed so would I, but we went to see 'Parade' this weekend. Parade is based on the terrible true story of Leo Frank. Oddly, the performance was remarkable, and the musical numbers only added to the pathos of the whole thing. We saw it at the Southwark Playhouse under the arches of London Bridge station. Recommended. It'll make you think. It'll make you wonder whether even today's American justice system is all that it should be.

On the other hand, Shrek The Musical, is a jolly old thing which we went to see with just about all The Cat's Mother's family on Sunday. But it doesn't really hit the highs of the original movie. It wasn't helped by the theatre being only half full, but most of the performers didn't really put much effort in. Particularly Richard Blackwood as Donkey...he was a very dull ass indeed. It's a shame that the actors don't just let themselves go, or perhaps the whole thing could be re-scripted as a pantomime...otherwise I can see it shutting up shop before the New Year.

I'd love to tell you all about the twists and turns in the filming of Brad Pitt's new film World War Z, as I've been privy to all sorts of stuff. It almost hurts keeping a secret, but I must. Perhaps if I'm a good boy Angelina will drop round to massage my ego.

The Firsts went down 3-6 on the rugby field on Saturday, and he was rather more han disappointed. And so he should have been. I could only stay for the first half, but really I could see they could and should have won. But to be a winning team you need attention to detail, determination and a twist of luck. I'll be cheering him on next week.

Good things come in threes

Last night we all went to the cinema to see 'One Man, Two Guvnors' starring James Corden. Of course, this is not a film, but a play that's on at the National Theatre and has been selling out faster than Nick Clegg. We saw it earlier this year, and it was just the funniest thing ever. Really. No really. So we took the opportunity of seeing it again, this time at the cinema when it was live broadcast by National Theatre Live. It was a one night showing. And second time round it was just as funny, may be even funnier. It's going on tour, so if you get the chance, do go and see it. Travel if you have to. I promise you won't have a better evening out this year....even if you're not a theatre fan.

It's not ever that I write about work...I like to keep business and play apart. No chasing secretaries round desks at the office for me. I don't know about you, but I mostly find working a bit of a chore. A bit of a drag. Something that gets in the way of me having a good time. That's even though I run my own business and have been doing so for the last fifteen years. I do love it, but boy can it be a real slog. And not surprisingly it can be somewhat repetitive. It's hard to find something that really stimulates me. The business is called Mandarin, and I often get asked why...is it after the orange, the duck, or the senior government official? No I say, it's because Mandarin is the language spoken by more people than any other...and that's entirely appropriate to my business. So I love the name, and actually I would not rather have done anything else over the last decade and a half. But this week I did something I've never done before, and it amused me immensely. I sent out a press release in Chinese. That's right Mandarin sent out a release in Mandarin. Here's a snippet....actually, unless you're interested in customs and border control in Australia, it's not very exciting. But it IS in Mandarin.

CCD Design and Ergonomics Limited （CCD 设计和人机工程学有限公司）与澳大利亚海关及边境保护局 (Australian Customs and Border Protection Service) 携手合作，重新为该局许多重要的港口与机场设计闭路电视控制室。这些采用最先进技术的新设施可以为该局一线员工提供最优质的技术、桌面、室内环境和控制界面。

澳大利亚海关及边境保护局的科技与实施能力全国代理经理 Nicola Viney 说，这些新设施将协助该局员工开展重要的边境保护工作。

Viney 女士说：“这些新设施确保了本局员工拥有任何时候高效完成工作任务所需要的劳动工具。”

“我们知道，业务的成功与否取决于员工与设施及设备的互动情况，因此，我们邀请 CCD 与我们携手开发本项目。”

为了设计既满足该局员工的需求，又能支持控制室中开展的复杂监视、跟踪和通信活动的设施，CCD 在既有控制室中开展了人的因素和行为研究。


The other thing that has put a spring in my step, but should have you weeping into your collective pillows, is that today I received an invite to audition as a performer in the 2012 Olympics opening ceremony. Now as anyone who has heard me sing, or seen me Dad dancing at weddings, bar mitvahs and funerals will know that should I succeed all the efforts of the London Olympics Organising team will have been in vain. Humiliation for the country will be complete. My left leg will be swinging sideways as everyone else is swirling gracefully to the right, I will be singing Lalalas when everyone else will be humming oooohs, they will be clapping whilst I'm waving. I'll be frowning whilst the rest of the ensemble has a fixed smile on their faces, and no doubt I'll be tripping over my shoe laces as everyone else marches forwards as one synchronised unit. The nay sayers will be triumphing about how right they were...it is true that Britain can't organise a major international event. For the rest, abject humiliation, that their dreams of a return to being proud of being British have been dashed by my foolishness.

Of course they may spot my ineptitude before then, in which case I feel there may be a collective sigh of relief.

'twas ever thus

I walked into the devil's cauldron on Tuesday evening. A birthday celebration for the Muffin Dad was held at a restaurant in the middle of Canary Wharf, so there was no getting away from the Bankers. I tried to scuttle through from the tube station to the restaurant, but losing my nerve as I got close, I checked on the satnav on my mobile phone to see whether I was heading in the right direction. It told me I needed to turn 180 degrees. As I was late already, this was annoying. So I turned around, then turned right, followed the path, turned left, followed the path until I was told to turn left and a little way further on turn left again. Yes twenty minutes after I'd checked the satnav I was indeed back where I started...with a little message coming up saying "Your destination is not located at this point". In fact it was just a little further on. If only I'd had the courage of my own convictions in the first place. A lovely evening spent consuming haggis, whiskey, venison and steak, wine and whiskey was had by all. Even if Wednesday was a little hazy.

The Vickers Report has been published, and so the future reform of the banking sector has been set. After lots of bleating from men in the finest cashmere suits, the reforms won't actually come into effect until 2018. Now even with my basic grade 'A' at 'O' Level I can work out that is a full decade after the great crash. Wow. That's impressive. Even after all the pain and misery the financial sector has caused, the politicians still can't help but suck up to them, whilst the vast majority of the electorate see massive falls in living standards and complete job insecurity. That I regard as breath taking arrogance on the part of the axis of evil. I don't really know whether the changes now proposed would have stopped the nonsense that was going on, because it seems that it was hyper levels of arrogance and stupidity that got us in the mess in the first place...the selling-on of worthless pieces of paper at inflated prices, based on opinions from the Credit Ratings agencies, who have got away Scott free whilst they continue to turn the screws. It seems little has been done, is being done or will be done to stop this happening again. And that impacts on the futures of all our children.

On a very positive note for me, the Palestinians are in the process of applying for statehood at the UN. I have long been a fervent supporter of their cause, and believe that a Palestinian State is reward for all the injustices they have suffered over the last century. The Europeans are divided on the issue, whilst the Americans are scrabbling around trying to prevent this very historic event - not surprisingly really. The US has never been even-handed in their dealings in the middle-east, and it has always felt to me that this policy has created enormous instability in the region. Worse still, it has fed the anger and misguided ideology of organisations such as Al Qaeda. And we all understand the consequences of that. I have signed the petition at Avaaz supporting Palestinian statehood, and I would urge you to as well.

Should I mention the kids? No. They're doing fine. Back at school, getting to grips with their 'A' level work, and peace and harmony reigns supreme. Marvelous. I'm putting notches in the bannister to see how long this lasts.

A tyring weekend

Oh oh oh. Can you imagine it? 19 middle-aged Essex women on a Greek Island for an extended (four day) Mama Mia themed party.

Yes, this is what The Cat's Mother abandoned me home alone with the teenagers for last week. I feel I got the better end of the bargain. Hopefully she feels that she got the better deal. Sometimes it's good to disagree.

I haven't posted my usual selection of photos this month. Not on First Friday, not Second Saturday, nor even Second Sunday. It wasn't that I forgot, it wasn't even that I couldn't be arsed. It's just that in August my ability abandoned me. I have a fine fine collection of snapshots which hold brilliant memories, but frankly and bluntly nothing worth posting up. Not even the man playing sax on the banks of the Seine, not even night time at Somerset House, nor the dozens of pieces of street art, or a boat trip on the River Lee. Hopefully, normal service will be resumed in September, although we're half way through and it's not looking good.

Saturday I had to get new tyres for the motorbike and at the same time watch The Boy play his debut match for the First team this season. I dropped him off at the ground at 8.45, drove home, picked up The Cat, dropped her for kick off at 10.00 ( how loyal, she volunteered to come and watch and cheer...I explained some of the rules) and watched the opening minutes of the game before rushing off to the garage. It may have been a wise move as the Firsts didn't manage a crushing victory, so came away deflated. The tyres on the bike were inflated, unlike my wallet which was some £316 lighter! I think these are more expensive than the car tyres which are four times the size. I came away a little flat.

After a four and a half hour long cycle ride street-art spotting on Saturday afternoon, it was perhaps a little rash of me to commit to cycling in with the The Muffin Dad on Monday morning. But I did. He's a decade younger than me, fitter and of a more sporting bent. Plus he leaves at between 6.30 and 7, and I leave at 8. So whilst he was pootling along admiring the scenery, I was huffing and puffing, wiping the sweat from my sleepy eyes as we battled the hurricane force headwind. He comes in on a route that I need to know as the canals are not a good idea during the mid winter. I'm amazed he's still alive as the route is a treacherous one on a very, very busy main road into London, and he does it every day. Even the new blue cycle highway is designed to kill you...peppered with bus stops as it is, so you have to swing out into the traffic which largely seems to consist of white van drivers....some of them actually driving white vans. Still we managed to avoid getting splattered...although every traffic light was against us. Anyway, he was very gracious (and sporting) about it all.

After we parted ways, I continued to hit a red light at every junction...so much so that the guy cycling next to me felt the need to pass comment in a heavy South African accent (or was it New Zealand?) "You're just bad luck mate". And indeed it was the case as a little way later, my back tyre went flat, still some 5 km shot of my destination. As I didn't have a repair kit and wasn't allowed on the tube or the bus, there was no choice to throw it on my back and walk the remaining distance. Nothing like a brisk walk in the morning is there? A Chinese tourist (actually he may have been Korean) felt the need to video me as I crossed Tower Bridge. That may well be my fifteen minutes of fame.

Silver linings

Last night on my cycle home, I bumped into a couple of policemen. I stopped to tell them that I'd seem a pile of credit cards...several hundred of them spilling out of a plastic bag beside the canal. Although we were just by the Olympic Stadium, they weren't familiar with the area. It turns out that they were from SOUTH Yorkshire (I was corrected when I just said Yorkshire) and were in London as part of a very large posse, including 160 police vans, brought to the capital to control any rioting following Mark Duggans funeral today. Very nice and friendly they were too. Clearly the forces of law and order are taking no chances.

In a period of reflection I realised how hypercritical it was that during the riots which briefly broke out in the brief heat of the summer that the government called for a ban on social media to prevent gangs of thugs from organising themselves to fight the forces of law and order. These are the same politicians that have praised the role of the self-same social media to promote dissent in Iran and encourage the Arab Spring. Now we all know that one man's terrorist is another man's freedom fighter, and that the video evidence suggests that our own unrest was a call for all hours footwear shopping, but are we really that well placed to decide between goodies and baddies in foreign countries. I somehow doubt it. I must admit that I've never been a great fan of democracy, as our own version spent centuries in a state of absolute corruption and then just as it evolved, the world has become so complex that it seems the real issues are beyond the understanding of most voters, who therefore fall back on uninformed prejudices. For many countries and cultures, democracy is so alien that attempts to impose it are bound to fail.

School has resumed, and it has come as a shock to realise that the sweet darlings we escorted to school just five minutes ago are now verging on the edge of adulthood. No longer for them school uniform, instead business suits which make them look smart, sassy and grown up. I may just decide to feel old and retire. The Cat will be able to follow her theatrical passion with a drama AS alongside her more traditional academic subjects. The Boy is starting with the First XV team on Saturday, which is a real achievement for him....and an interesting coincidence as the Rugby World Cup has just kicked off. A real, real shame I don't think I'll get to see him play as I have to get a new set of tyres on the motorbike at the same time...as I have a nail in one, I guess the urgency is reasonable?

It may have been a pretty miserable summer weather wise, but I don't know if you've been lucky enough to see the amazing sunsets this year. I can't remember when I've seen glorious sunsets so often..practically every night I would say. Dramatic clouds and amazing red and orange light. Truly spectacular, and more than enough to lift everyone's spirits. The odd thing though is that they've really given a lie to the old saying 'Red sky at night, shepherd's delight' - but we can't have everything.

Le monsieur croque

With the teen urchins off to the Black Mountains for a four day hike as part of their DofE Silver, The Cat's mother and I took the opportunity to grab a few days away. We both really needed it being more than a little bit frazzled over the summer - frustrated that commitments had prevented us from getting a proper break giving us the rest and relaxation we needed.

As we only had a few days it didn't seem sensible to be flying off into the sunset, so instead we took the train to Paris, managing to secure a room in the George V hotel. So what to say about Paris in the balmy, sunny late summer days? I've been there dozens of times, for both work and pleasure, and love going there...the Cat's Mother has been there less, but was very excited about a few days in Paris.

An interesting coincidence for us was that we were there at the same time as Cameron's cohorts and Sarkozy's servants were in conference with the Libyans, planning for a non-Gadaffi future. It did feel a bit like the colonial conferences of the past with the imperialists just carving up their share of the booty. The nearest we came to it was that our hotel filled with men who may well have traveled from Saudi Arabia or there abouts.

The Cat's Mother was adamant she didn't want to ascend the Eiffel Tower (in case it fell over or blew down!), so we stayed nearer the ground. Under it in fact, as we descended to the catacombs where some six million Parisians are piled up. That's quite a few isn't it? Anyway, the kingdom of the dead is the strangest of places to enter, and hear about its creation due to (literally) overflowing cemeteries which would mean decaying bodies appearing in people's cellars, and an atmosphere bad enough to curdle milk in an hour. Cheerful place eh?! But the bones are beautifully laid out. Obviously death was on our mind as we discovered that we were staying just a short chase by the papparazzi from where Diana Spencer died.

We did art...a lot of it really - suffice to say the French don't really do modern art, but the Musee D'Orsay is just absolutely spectacular and just the perfect size. The Louvre was great too....but really just too big for its own good. And anyway, who wants to stand in a gigantic crowd to see some dappy woman smiling from the canvas? But we loved it anyway.

Our culinary experience included a restaurant that was so hip it hurt, and patrons who clearly loved themselves. Fortunately the waitresses wore the shortest skirts imaginable, and the food wasn't half bad. Even if one dish came complete with rubber band that they didn't know from it had emanated. We went in one brasserie, sat down ready to order when the waitress came over and demanded to know how we wanted our meal cooked. It took a moment to realise all they served was steak frites. And delicious it was too...no wonder that evening we saw a queue for it snaking down the road. I'm not going to mention staggering down the Champs Elyssee after a couple of very fine Martinis...that would be just too embarrassing.

And that was it really. All very, very nice. Apart from when we ascended from the catacombs, I acquired a stiff back pain which lingered for most of the day until it suddenly turned nasty in the Louvre gift shop and spread to my chest as well...I got very hot and sweaty and began to pass out. Thoughts of my brother's heart attacks added to the panic, but eventually it passed, I recovered, and after a good massage that evening I was as fit as a fiddle.


A good wave off

Should this boat have stopped here?

That's me!

We may have had a wine or two

Smiling woman, and another with a picture of her child

The only queue in Paris, and the man in front had the same sandals as me

Alas poor Jeanne Pierre

Of course we went shopping

That car really would go in the river...designed and built in Britain

Notre Dame

Flowers in our hotel...more than in all of the Netherlands

Going underground

Japing Ape

We have been away. It has nothing do with the fact that the Japing Ape appears to have moved in next door I'm sure he'll make a fine neighbour.

Stars in their eyes

I can't let the day go by without recording the verdict of the GCSE Examination board. A*s across the board, bar a couple of A grades. So unqualified success for the pair of them. They're being treated to a celebration supper tonight, and no doubt the champagne will flow, to add to the one vodka they were allowed this morning.

They're very bright sparks, so The Cat's Mother and I are grinning like a pair of Cheshire Cats, as proud as Punch.

Picture this

This week's gallery is on the theme of world photography day. So over the weekend I took a picture of this house. Its not a brilliant picture but it's very important to me and somewhere that I will always remember. For me that's what photography is all about - creating and preserving the memores that would otherwise fade or blur. I wonder if Grandma in Cyprus recognises it?

Half

Evidently, the near end of the Libyan conflict has brought a degree of stability to the markets. Which is odd as Libya supplies at most 2% of the world's oil...which is really just a drop in the ocean. And it's even odder that until this week we have been told that it is the instability in the Eurozone which is at the heart of all our problems, excepting the plodding nature of the American recovery as well. Really, its all a load of old bollocks that the press and the markets talk isn't it?

The countdown is well underway, with just two days until the GCSE results are announced. Here's my dilemma, when I was a lad, they just used to pop through the door with the rest of the post, and when you opened them your mum and dad patted you on the head and said "Well done". These days, the tikes have to make their way to the school to receive their results in person and then celebrate or commiserate with their class mates as appropriate. The parents sit and wait with baited breath. I'm supposed to be in a meeting at THE TIME. Should I cancel the meeting, or should I stay as I am? I'm torn.

The Cat's Mother is a bright, sunny positive person, whereas I'm not. I thought the differences between us were well summed up by my journey home yesterday. I was cycling the 18 miles home, and yesterday was no different to any other in that I regularly get passed by other people. Not club-race fit men in their twenties, but usually fat old ladies pootling along on their bone shakers. Once upon a time it depressed me, but now I just take it in my stride. I know my place and it's not at the Olympic velodrome.

As I passed through Woodford and into Buckhurst Hill, I pulled up at a junction and another cyclist went flying by me. This muscular male on two wheels disappeared into the distance whilst I continued to pootle along the high road and down the hill which takes me into Loughton along the high street before beginning a long, steep climb home. It was at this point I realised that I had just caught up with and then actually overtook the cyclist. I was a little surprised, but I was going quite a bit faster than him. Then I forgot him again until nearing the brow of the hill, behind me I could hear a lot of clanking of changing gears and huffing and puffing, until just near the brow, he went past again.

At home I relayed the tale, and added how ridiculous it was as this guy just hadn't wanted someone going more quickly than him; to me it wasn't a race.

The Cat's Mother, however, pointed out how marvelous it was that I had inspired him.

Now would you mind filling up my glass, it appears half empty

Summer's done

Over here, it's nearly the end of the summer, and over there it's nearly the end of the Arab Spring. Libya is close to being the former country of Colonel Gadaffi, or the country of the former Colonel Gadaffi. Syria might be condemned by "World Leaders" (actually the leaders of Western Democracies) but doesn't show any real signs of change. It seems likely that the additional level of instability which has been added by the events of the last few months may yet come to bit us all...the battling between Israel and Hamas over the recent days has been facilitated at least in part by the lack of iron grip by the Egyptian Authorities.

The Boy has finished his work experience, and has come away with a hoard of new fans. Like us all at his age he stated that he doesn't want to do a 9-5 job...I'm still saying that so I hope he finds a solution to the dilemma of whether to pay the bills or relax and enjoy. He spent Saturday at V Festival, getting drenched to the skin. It made me remember rather wistfully when he and I went off to camp at V Festival three or four years ago, and what a great time we had together. How times have changed...that's the process of growing up I guess.

The Cat is disappointed as her summer is nearly over, but as it's been so action packed I don't think she has too much to complain of. Of course, I remember those long summers that used to go on for ever, and the disappointment that comes with them drawing to a close as September nears. Oh that I could have a long, long summer break now.

The Cat and The Cat's Mother have returned from their French jaunt in Carcasonne. It seemed peaceful and restful, but not full of the ghosts and ghouls of Kate Mosse's books which are set in that region. How disappointing!

The two teens have a week of peace and quiet before they embark on their Silver D of E venture, and it may, finally, give The Cat's Mother and I some well deserved time away together...we deserve and need it.

This weekend, she and I took time out on Sunday afternoon to go for a little trip on a boat on the River Lea...a simple pleasure much enjoyed.

It's what you know

There are some things The Cat's Mother knows and there are some things that I know.

She knows that, in her absence, the house has gone to rack and ruin, the kitchen is a disaster area, the dishes are still dirty, have become mouldy and are walking around the house by themselves, the rubbish lies scattered around the garden, and there are mountains of unwashed clothes beckoning for her domestic hand.

I know that, in her absence, the house has been quiet, the kitchen is as tidy now as when she left, the dishes are neatly stacked in the dishwasher, the rubbish has been taken out and collected by the bin men, and we've washed the clothes we've worn.

I wonder who's right? We'll find out tomorrow.

Two events have dominated my newspaper reading over the last 48 hours, and caused me to reflect on destiny.

Yesterday the Autonomy Corporation was bought by US technology giant Hewlett Packard for a whopping 10.3 billion dollars. That's a lot of dosh. You may not know Autonomy...and why should you? I only know it because the founder, Mike Lynch attended the same school as me, and as The Boy does now. He's four years younger than me and was always a bright spark, getting there on a scholarship (as indeed did I). Not much more to say other than well done...always good to read about someone you know (of) doing well...and as I understand it, he deserved. I'm not sure what he learnt at school that I didn't, but whatever it was, it's served him well.

The other story is the death and repatriation of Lt Dan Clack in Afghanistan. He was just 24, and a very well liked and respected officer. A man of great potential. He's the first Old Bancroftian to have been killed in action since the second world war, and had been at the school between 1998 and 2005. Lieutenant Clack was killed while leading a ten-man patrol into the village of Dactran to speak to the local nationals and discuss a shura due to take place the next day. Approximately 150 metres from the front gate his patrol was struck by an improvised explosive device, killing him and injuring five other members of his patrol. What a terrible tragedy for him, his family and those close to him. I remember when I was at school one of the things I learnt was that Afghanistan was an unconquerable country that was little more than a waste land. It has a tribal system which suits the place; democracy is not a natural fit. So the other part of the tragedy is that he was fighting an unwinnable war trying to impose an alien political system which has been imposed by western political leaders. If only they'd been in the same history lesson as me.

It's all in black and white

When I was younger I thought in black and white. Things were right or wrong, good or bad, left or right. But age and experience has proved otherwise...there was never one moment when The Boy crawled and then walked, when he gurgled and then talked, it would even be difficult to pinpoint the exact moment when his mother moved from life to death.

In our day to day lives, things are rarely just one thing or another. Take the police response to the riots. Evidently their response was too soft. This not long after they were criticised for being too hard at the G20 riots. During the height of the riots there were public calls for the rioters to be hung drawn and quartered, but now the sentences are being handed down, they're being criticised as too harsh. It's not a very black and white issue is it?

Over in north Africa, it seems to have finally registered that the motley band of rebels fighting Gadaffi may not be all that we want them to be. So after millions of £s has been spent supporting a liquorice allsort army the diplomats are now talking about a 'catastrophic victory' which might lead to civil war, or a takeover by islamic extremists. Well I hate to say it (I don't really) but that was bloody obvious months ago. The choice has always been choosing between the lesser of two evils. It's never been a black and white issue.

Now talking of black and white, that's the theme of this week's gallery, so here's a picture I took of St Paul's Cathedral...The Boy and I used to go past it every night when we walked home from my office over The Wobbly Bridge and I loved it. I took it with my mobile phone



This picture though isn't black and white...it's a view of the cranes on the St Petersburg sky line when we were there last year. It's just an illusion as it was taken in full colour on my big Olympus camera.



As I said, things are rarely black and white.

Just ignore Mrs Worthington

The problem with using the name Nota Bene is that when I open up my Hotamil account, the 'system' thinks I'm Italian and offers to translate the whole page for me. It was funny for the first five hundred times, but now the jokes beginning to wear a bit thin. Mama Mia! On the other hand, its probably better than the e-mails that I get from PRs addressing me as Dear Brad presumably because the email address is bradstockboys. If ever I want to change my name to Brad Stockboys, I'll let them know. Or maybe they've seen a passing resemblance to the other famous Brad....its an easy mistake to make.

The Cat's Mother and The Cat are away sunning themselves in France this week, so the mice are out to play. Well, when I say out to play I mean we're eating deep fried frozen pizzas all week, leaving the wrappers all over the sitting room floor whilst slobbing around watching DVDs full of sex and violence. Well, when I say 'we', I mean 'me'. No doubt The Boy will shame me with his goody-two-shoes behaviour. Youth isn't what it used to be.

The Cat's Mother has taken it on herself to make me relive the misery of my (and UP's) 'O' level years by taking us to all the plays we studied for English all those years ago. Shakespeare's Winters Tale is already crossed off the list, as is MacBeth. We've seen an operatic version of Turn of the Screw previously. The Playboy of the Western world is a future 'must see'. This weekend we saw Marlowe's Dr Faustus at The Globe theatre on the South Bank. It was absolutely fantastic...oh that it had been on when I was studying, I may yet improve on my Grade A. If you've never been, and get the chance do go, but make sure you bring a cushion. The afternoon was capped by The Cat bumping into and getting the autograph of Dr Who's assistant. Haven't got a clue about her name, but she's very pleasant, happy to sign away and have her picture taken with hoards of adoring fans...lovely.



This weekend was the finale of The Cat's two weeks course at the National Youth Theatre. She did amazingly well to get a place...the competition was remarkably stiff, but she shone at the auditions. The last two weeks have been a roller coaster of emotions for her, as they built up to this and on Saturday they gave their performance at the National. It was a fabulous thing to see her participate and hopefully this is just the start of a path which will see her dreams come true. If you can spot her in the video, you're doing well...better than I did for half the performance!



Wow, I've reached the end and not a political comment. But I do like Warren Buffet's recent comments which I'm sure apply over here as well as over there.