I personally believe (and such as)

Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha

Should Art Have A Price Tag?

It's interesting that, in a month where Damien Hirst (and his management) achieve a historic sales record, Banksy is refusing to authenticate his work for an auction house. Banksy 1, Hirst 0.

Sadly, the reality is that the scoreboard actually reads Hirst €150million to Banksy's much lower earnings. That's because these days much art is valued not so much on its individual merit or success but on the commercial value that we place on it. Of course, "merit" and "success" are relative terms but at least by thinking in those terms we keep art in the emotional/intellectual sphere and not in the financial.

Otherwise, buy a factory and build an assemblyline and get a grant from Fás!

You think we'll love you anyway?

Boyzone appeared on The Late Late Show tonight. I was channel hopping and when I saw "the lads" on the show I had to linger. I was hoping for a repeat of their first ever appearance and it was a bit disappointing. It was just as disturbing and just as desperate. In particular, watching a group of thirty-something men in a boyband and their interaction with Pat Kenny smacked of desperation! Although that just might have been desperation to leave.

Later on the show, Pat interviewed the two sons of a lesbian couple. The young men were so nice and spoke so intelligently about the normal relationship they have with their parents. The sons were articulate and didn't stoop to Pat Kenny's moronic interview style. They had a point to make and they made it. Sadly Pat Kenny was trying to present a divided society and kept pressing them for the negatives.

Pat took the show to new levels of idiocy when he prodded the lesbians for details of the children's conception. Displaying a remarkable lack of understanding of fertility and procreation, Pat seemed fixation on the hows rather than the whys. The ladies were clearly uncomfortable giving the details on live television so Pat pushed more.

"What's this I hear about a Turkey Baster?", asks Pat. " Ah, Pat!", the lesbian replies in dismay. Pat then goes on to make the rather stunning assertion that maybe couples having difficulty conceiving might benefit from this lesbian trick.

Pat clearly doesn't get it. And I don't get Pat.

Ayre today... gone tomorrow

A recent conversation (yeah, it was drunken!) reminded me of Eighties comedy poet Pam Ayres. I don't think we have comedy poets anymore. Or maybe there hasn't been a suitably fabulous one worthy of our attention. Check out Pam's, ahem, talent here:

Oh, I wish I'd looked after me teeth,
And spotted the perils beneath,
All the toffees I chewed,
And the sweet sticky food,
Oh, I wish I'd looked after me teeth.

I wish I'd been that much more willin'
When I had more tooth there than fillin'
To pass up gobstoppers,
From respect to me choppers
And to buy something else with me shillin'.

When I think of the lollies I licked,
And the liquorice allsorts I picked,
Sherbet dabs, big and little,
All that hard peanut brittle,
My conscience gets horribly pricked.

My Mother, she told me no end,
"If you got a tooth, you got a friend"
I was young then, and careless,
My toothbrush was hairless,
I never had much time to spend.

Oh I showed them the toothpaste all right,
I flashed it about late at night,
But up-and-down brushin'
And pokin' and fussin'
Didn't seem worth the time... I could bite!

If I'd known I was paving the way,
To cavities, caps and decay,
The murder of fiIlin's
Injections and drillin's
I'd have thrown all me sherbet away.

So I lay in the old dentist's chair,
And I gaze up his nose in despair,
And his drill it do whine,
In these molars of mine,
"Two amalgum," he'll say, "for in there."

How I laughed at my Mother's false teeth,
As they foamed in the waters beneath,
But now comes the reckonin'
It's me they are beckonin'
Oh, I wish I'd looked after me teeth.

Okay, maybe it's not quite as "genius" as it seemed in the those days. Maybe we had less money then. Or maybe we have more vocabulary now. Either way, you might need to hear her in all her Westcountry glory to get how wonderfully weird she was.

Gawd, we miss you Pam. I think.

It's the news... before it even happens!

Those Republicans think that they have God on their side so it's probably no surprise that McCain has claimed victory in a debate that hasn't even happened yet. I'd love to think that Sarah Palin's witchdoctor cast some spells and they're feeling confident. Or that it's just McCain's dementia kicking in. (Poor guy probably can't remember if the debate happened but he just knows he won; after all, he's a goddamn war hero!). And since this is an paid-for ad, this is no editorial error like the famous "Dewey Defeats Truman" headline in 1948.

Sadly, it is more likely part of the spin-machine that attempts to convince the American people that the truth is a lie and that a lie is the truth. Of course, I don't know whether McCain will do well in tonight's debate but, after he tried to weasel out of it, I'd doubt it. The fact is his ads (which may just have run early "by accident" ha! ha!) have quotes that are clearly fictitious. How can people have opinions on how well he did, if it hasn't already happened?

What's truly frightening is how contrived the US electoral system is. The whole thing is based on image, spin and soundbites. And the electorate is left to uncover the truth for themselves. McCain and the Republicans obviously don't have respect for the truth. They most certainly don't have respect for the intelligence of the American people.

The scary thing is that they may have a point.

Yeah but no but yeah (but slower)

Little Britain USA looks like it's going to introduce a range of great new characters (like these freakish body builders) and no doubt a pile of new catchphrases. I can't wait to see it. But I heard that the American version of Vicki Pollard has to speak a lot more slowly so Americans get it (*yawn). Half the point of her was that she had those crazy streams of consciousness where she ended up saying outrageous things that you barely caught. I hope the whole thing doesn't get lost in translation or dumbed down altogether!Having said that The Office survived the transatlantic shift pretty well. Walliams and Lucas are also calling in a slew of celebrities to help out, like Sting who apparently makes out with Walliams in one scene. I'm not really sure how I feel about that... but apparently Sting really liked it. (Poor Trudy Styler!)

The Danger of Sarah Palin

Sam Harris (author of Letter to A Christian Nation and The End of Faith) has an interesting article in Newsweek about the danger of Sarah Palin. While it bugs me that Newsweek position it as an atheist argument*, it's a good, if not terrifying, read. My favourite part is how Harris mocks Palin's claim that she is "ready to take command" simply because she would not hesitate to do so. While Americans lapped up Palin's "when faced with a challenge, you cannot blink" line, Harris proves how stupid it is by changing the context.

"Governor Palin, are you ready at this moment to perform surgery on this child's brain?"
"Of course. I have several boys of my own, and I'm an avid hunter."
"But governor, this is neurosurgery, and you have no training as a surgeon of any kind."
"That's just the point. The American people want change in how we make medical decisions in this country. And when faced with a challenge, you cannot blink.

Well, in that case, Sarah, scalpel away!

(*you don't need to be an atheist to be scared of religious extremism)

Feel the fear and do it anyway

I remember as a school kid, studying a poem called Death Be Not Proud. It had a strong impact on me. Mainly because my grand mother had recently died and I had never faced the mortality of those I loved before. It was the only poem I actually "learned" for class: we were meant to learn them all! I still remember most of it.

DEATH be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadful, for,
thou art not so,
For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow, Die not, poor death,
nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be, Much pleasure, then from
thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and souls delivery.
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men, And dost with
poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy, or charms can make us sleep as well,
And better then thy stroke; why swell'st thou then;
One short sleep past, wee wake eternally, And death shall be no more;
death, thou shalt die.

John Donne's poem talks about death's power over us being a fallacy. We can "overcome" death. Of course, what he really means it that once we die we go to Heaven and death "thou shalt die". It's a very religious way of looking at things.

Over the years, I have learned more about death and I've learned more about life. I've learned that we most definitely cannot overcome death. But most of all, I've learned that aspiring to reach heaven values death over life. It devalues our short and mysterious existence in favour of "life everlasting".

As an atheist, the most difficult concept to broach is that when we die, that's it! Within the context of the several billion year old Universe, our short visit is frightening. It is this fear that religions feed upon. Or rather, it is the smug notion that we can somehow cheat death that drives religion.

On that point, I can never understand how Christians position themselves as pro-life when, by their very faith, they are pro-death. As indeed is Islam (hence the endless procession of Islamic fundamentalists willing to die for their place in this so-called heaven). Both religions await the coming of the end of the world and the rewards that will come to the faithful. Getting there quicker is almost a good thing!

We all face the fear of death but why this fear has to be channelled in to "cults of death" is beyond me. Maybe we should face the fear, rather than pretend it doesn't exist. Admit there is a problem, as a therapist might say. And then we can get on with living. (As Phillip Larkin said, "Death is no different whined at than withstood".)

Maybe it's time we realised that we are powerless to do something about death. And that this somehow makes life even more precious. And life thou shalt live! It might actually make life better (than the Bible, Koran or Talmud ever did).

This is a special way of being afraid. No trick dispels.
Religion used to try, That vast moth-eaten musical brocade
Created to pretend we never die,
And specious stuff that says No rational being
Can fear a thing it will not feel, not seeing
That this is what we fear—no sight, no sound,
No touch or taste or smell, nothing to think with,
Nothing to love or link with,
The anaesthetic from which none come round.