Lord Mischon RIP

Continuing the Spencer theme, Lord Mischon, the late Princess of Wales's lawyer, has died.

How Ridiculous wonders what The Princess would have worn to his memorial service had she still been alive. She always looked especially beautiful in black.

Come to think of it, Her Majesty always looks stunning in mourning garb too, as does Lady Thatcher.

Sir Winston Churchill

Sir Winston Churchill once famously remarked that 'buggers can't be choosers', so it is perhaps fitting that on the fortieth anniversary of his funeral, something about him should come on the back of a posting about 'Brokeback Mountain'.

How Ridiculous once had the great honour to study Sir Winston's papers at Churchill College, Cambridge.

Much, of course, has been and always will be written about his life up to and during his Premierships both in war and peace.

Yet, for How Ridiculous, the greatness of the man was most visible in his years after 1955 and how he responded to his decline. Those years have been brilliantly recorded in 'Long Sunset', the memoirs of Sir Winston's last Private Secretary.

The other thing about WSC How Ridiculous always recalls is that he was descended from Spencer stock and that one of his distant relations came third in the Greatest Briton poll - and that one of his grandsons happened to be one of that person's archest critics.

Lady Bracknell beckons

Fearful as How Ridiculous is that a tendency to excessiveness is being displayed it must be confessed that HR went to see 'Brokeback Mountain' again yesterday - for the fourth time.

How fitting that as entry was made into the auditorium the dulcet tones of Dame Shirley Bassey could be heard singing 'Jesse'. HR jests not. This track was followed by a live version of 'Somewhere'.

The previous Sunday The Dame had sung 'Everytime we say goodbye', 'You'll never walk alone' and 'I get a kick out of you'.

Hidden

To the cinema this afternoon to see 'Cache', or 'Hidden' for those not gifted when it comes to French oral.

Perhaps 'Hidden' is the point of the film for it left How Ridiculous totally mystified, although enjoyably so, unlike one of the viewers. Having managed to moan and complain for the duration she left declaring: 'Of all the films I have seen this sucks more than any of the others.'

And?

Anyway, a couple of observations about the audience, equally applicable to all audiences.

Why is it:

a) people enter the auditorium and faff about in a state of some indecision for what seems an age before sitting down? There are plenty of seats, all of them with excellent views of the screen. JUST SIT DOWN!

b) people sit on the end seat of a row and then are so ungracious when other people ask to get by them so they can sit down

Transport requirements

Writing of cyclists reminds How Ridiculous of an exchange between one of our friends and her Father prior to the birth of HR's godson.

The conversation went something like this.

'I take coffee at work with a girl who, at eight months, has discovered she is with child; and she didn't know.'

Silence. Then: 'Well...what about...well...you know...her cycle?'

'Daddy! I will not discuss other people's motor transport requirements in mixed company.'

Peers for Pedestrians

How Ridiculous's slumber was disturbed this morning by the 'Today' programme's discussion about cyclists.

They are one of the banes of How Ridiculous's life; and it would seem not just HR's life for the radio discussion had been excited by a question in the House of Lords on Thursday.

Lord Quinton had risen to ask Her Majesty's Government 'Whether they will take steps to ensure that bicycle users abide by the Highway Code.'.

Lord Quinton proceeded to offer the nation the benefit of his experience:

'As an elderly resident much given to walking about central London, I constantly perceive riders on the pavement and persons popping through traffic lights that are against them and driving up one-way streets. Perhaps I should declare a kind of medical interest, in that my wife was bumped into by a cyclist going the wrong way up Bond Street—at least it was a good street—and as a result she suffered a fractured pelvis.' (How Ridiculous's emphasis.)

Anyway, the quality of streets aside cyclists excite bike rage in HR.

They have the roads to cycle on.

They have specially painted lanes devoted to them (and aren't the colours hideous?).

And where do hordes of them choose to pedal their machines? Yes, on the pavement.

It's just ridiculous.

Walking down The South Bank often seems like being on the set of the film Alfred Hitchcock might have made: 'The Cycles'.

Why do the wrong people travel?

For How Ridiculous one of the highlights of 'Elaine Stritch At Liberty' was her rendition of Sir Noel Coward's 'Why do the wrong people travel?' from the musical 'Sail Away' in which she starred in the early 1960s.

Sir Noel's lyrics came to mind yesterday as How Ridiculous travelled to and from Durham- and before you pass the obvious comment, HR was travelling on a professional matter.

If only some of the other travellers had stayed way back home, as the right people do.

There was the knitting lesbian - her wool a distinctly beefy shade.

There was the loud American (is there any other kind?) taking call after call on his mobile - all of them from the USA. Imagine the rapture of the carriage upon discovering that some workmen moving a pole through his yard had knocked over a wall and damaged his avocado tree.

There was the young man patting his lips throughout his entire sandwich whilst his girlfriend read 'Goodbye, Dearest Holly'.

There was the Asian gentleman shouting 'Hello' down his 'phone from York to Stevenage.

There was drunken Kiwi (this makes a change for usually on a GNER service the drunks are of Scotch origin) who came into the coach declaiming 'This is a quiet carriage.' Could the others possibly be any louder, thought HR? Said Kiwi directed his attention at a female by the name of 'Bronwyn'. 'Do you want a beer?...'Do you play cricket?'...'I'm from New Zealand.'...'I play cricket.' Bronwyn seemed impressed - or at least had had an impression made upon her.

It all became too much for How Ridiculous. Book went down, ear phones went in and to Brokeback Mountain we were transported.

Another MP outed...

...but happily this time out of a house rather than a closet.

Beardless

So Simone Hughes announces he has had hetrosexual relationships and that his marriage proposals have not been 'as successful as [he] would have liked'.

Perchance his homosexual relationships offer an explanation for that lack of success.

1 of 8 people found the following review helpful

According to our dear friends at Amazon.com, 1 out of 8 people found the following review helpful:

'Yuck, a soundtrack to sodomy: I'd hate to see some of the sterotypical freaks and weirdos that buy this soundtrack to practice their dirty deeds. It's movies like this that are ruining America. I'm in no way a conservative but I do have morals and the message being portrayed to our children makes me want to throw up. You can say I'm a jerk which I gladly admit to, but it burns you because you know that I'm right, and just like you, liberal, I am entitled to my opinion. I will never embrace a movie about -homo-erotic cowboys nor will I listen to it's equally vomit worthy soundtrack.'

How Ridiculous guesses the reviewer won't be rushing to the cinema to see Brokeback Mountain then.

DEUS CARITAS EST

How Ridiculous is not sure whether The Holy Father will have a view on the Sven story but let us at least hope that in this picture he is not asking: 'What's that?', as The Queen Mother is reported to have done when she saw an ironing board.

Anyway, The Pope's first encyclical has just been published. Its 42 paragraphs are On Christian Love and it concludes with the saints and with the most outstanding of them all, Mary.

No doubt Marys throughout the world will be hailing that.

So farewell then Sven

So it is goodbye to Sven. Such a shame, not least because we may see less of Miss Dell'Olio. After all, public life is not overflowing with Nancys who have such good ball control.

A Testino treat

How Ridiculous's last Christmas present was taken possession of today: the book to accompany the exhibition of Mario Testino photographs of the late (as opposed to the current) Princess of Wales.

Like the subject matter, the book is beautiful. How Ridiculous is much looking forward to visiting the exhibition at Kensington Palace.

HR remembers well Mr Testino's exhibition at the National Portrait Gallery and his imaginative 'blonde room' with pictures of Diana, Princess of Wales and Madonna facing one another - The Pop Princess and The Pop Tart; but that's enough advertising for Mr Kellogg.

Writing in the book, Meredith Etherington-Smith comments that The Princess had said the day of the photo shoot had been one of the happiest of her life.

It shows.

The photographs radiate joy and are a joy to see.

Motherdear

How Ridiculous's Mother had been sent a copy of HR's previous blog postings.

During a telephone conversation How Ridiculous asked if she had received them.

'Yes.'

'Have you read them?'

'No.'

'I'm shocked.'

'What time do you think I've had to read anything?'

'Well, you'll probably just think they are ridiculous anyway.'

'I know. Why do you think I'm not rushing to read them?'

Oaten out...of the leadership election

How Ridiculous was going to post some weekend reflections on the Lib Dem leadership election. The provisional title had been 'Oaten out of the leadership election'; but in the circs, perhaps the last four words are superfluous.

The Thames whale - the people mourn

How Ridiculous wonders how long it will be before we have a statement from The Prime Minister on the passing of what he might call 'the people's whale'.

Simultaneously, the Union Flag will be lowered to half-mast at Buckingham Palace.

Members of the Royal Family will be despatched to thank the emergency services for their endeavours.

A Minister for Whale Grieving will be appointed to coordinate a central response to the outpouring of grief.

An announcement will come from Conservative Central Office that all Shadow Cabinet members have purchased copies of 'Whale Rider'.

The two-minutes' silence will ensue, with those in London requested to line The Thames.

The culmination will be a National Service of Remembrance and Thanksgiving at St Paul's Cathedral. Sea shanties will be sung and an extract from an especially reinterprered 'Moby Dick' will be read. Sensitised scenes from Pinocchio will be shown on the screens erected around the Cathedral for those hundreds of thousands not able to get a seat inside.

That said, it is terribly sad news. How Ridiculous watched lots of the coverage yesterday and has received regular text and voice mail updates during the day.

Memoirs of a Geisha

To the cinema after swimming for less romantic drama than the ones which had been witnessed earlier, frankly.

'Memoirs of a Geisha' suffered in HR's view from 'Brokeback Mountain' having blazed all before it.

Additionally, the film would have been more authentic had it been spoken in Japanese and subtitled.

Nevertheless, it was worth seeing and hearing for the music was divine. Indeed, the score won a Golden Globe.

Whilst on the subject of score, why has the one for 'Untold Scandal' never been released? That, in itself, is an untold scandal.

Does Whitney Houston swim?

Does Whitney Houston swim? How Ridiculous only asks because if she does she would surely agree that swimming is not a contact sport. If only others agreed and acted accordingly.

To the local swimming pool for How Ridiculous this afternoon. It soon dawned that HR was in what we might call 'Lovers' Lane'. In addition to How Ridiculous said lane included four other persons: two men and two women They were couples - hetrosexual couples; there's nothing brightly coloured about this pool.

Each couple were clearly together and one of them was often physically together, both orally and, on one occasion, with their costumes entwined. HR jests not; but at least now it is understood for what purpose goggles have an anti-mist coating.

Why do people go swimming only to faff about at the edge of pool and prevent dedicated swimmers being able to execute a perfect turn and indeed on some occasions prevent any turn at all being made? It's just ridiculous.

Anyhow, in the next lane swam a gentleman with all sorts of contraptions attached to his person one of which looked like an IPOD. How Ridiculous imagined the joy of being able to swim whilst listening to Madonna's 'Drowned World' and the even deeper joy of having it piped into (if not acted out in) 'Lovers' Lane'.

Hello Kitty

How Ridiculous continues perusal of 'Chunky'. How wonderful to have to hand those pearls of wisdom from the funky Kitty of Cheadle.

'Good evening. My name's Kitty. I've had a boob off and I can't stomach whelks, so that's me for you.'

'I'm not a fan of the modern railway system. I strongly object to paying twenty seven pounds fifty to walk the length and breadth of the train carriage with a sausage in a plastic box.'

'Time and again I'm poked in the street by complete acquaintances - Kitty, they say to me, how do you keep so young, do you perhaps inject yourself with a solution deriving from the placenta of the female gibbon? Well no, I say, I don't as a matter of fact. I'm blessed with a robust constitution - my Father's Mother ran her own abattoir, and I've only had the need of hospitalisation once - that's when I was concussed by an electric potato peeler at the Ideal Home Exhibition.'

'No, the secret of my youthful appearance is simply - mashed swede. As a face-mask, as a night cap, and in an emergency as a draught-excluder. I do have to be careful about my health, because I have a grumbling ovary which once flared up in the middle of The Gondoliers. My three rules for a long life are regular exercise, hobbies and a complete avoidance of midget gems.'

'I'm not one for dance classes, feeling if God had wanted us to wear leotards he would have painted us purple.'

What a good woman

Readers, to pluralise Charlotte Bronte, may recall a previous posting entitled 'Trannies for Maggie'. As the picture left (happily Lady T is on the right of it) demonstrates Kitten did indeed model him/herself on the Prime Minister.

However, throughout the hugely enjoyable 'Breakfast on Pluto', How Ridiculous was struck by how much Kitten reminded HR of Scarlett Johansson's character in 'A Good Woman'.

Back to Brokeback Mountain

Wednesday evening saw How Ridiculous visit a local cinema to see 'Brokeback Mountain' again. HR was accompanied by friends, well we say friends, probably more accurate to describe them as professional associates, well we say professional and come to think of it we say associates...

Anyway, back at the ranch, all were deeply moved by the film. One personage passed the entire movie with tears rolling down her face which, of course, is preferable to her having raindrops falling on her head.

Post-film imbibing at a nearby hostelry where we were served by a rather unfortunately mannered girl by the name of Lauren - more a Miss Take than a Miss Bacall. As Daddy might say, she was neither use nor ornament.

Much discussion of the film and about how sad it is. Indeed it is; but it is also very, very beautiful. More intense discussion as to whether Ennis or Jack were the preferred characters. For How Ridiculous, the honours go to Mr Del Mar. And an especial mention must be made of Mrs Twist, Jack's Mother, who displayed a heartbreaking degree of understanding, acknowledgement and acceptance.

Discussion on all filmatic matters continued during the course of Thursday and encouraged How Ridiculous to purchase the movie's soundtrack and the book. All HR needs now is the blood stained shirt and the collection will be complete.

It's just ridiculous...

Lib Dem latest

Lib Dem leadership candidate Simon Hughes declares the contest is 'no beauty parade'. Indeed.

Whilst on Mr Hughes (if you'll forgive the expression), is it just How Ridiculous who thinks that with every passing day he sounds and looks more like Tony Benn?

Right audience, wrong job

Interviewed on Friday's Newsnight, President Clinton was asked if The Prime Minister should run for the post of UN Secretary-General when he leaves Downing Street. Mr Clinton responded: "That would suit me. He would be a good one."

The former President has hit upon something. Mr Blair's universal talents would be ideal for a global audience. But perhaps a more fitting job for him would be The Papacy. If the evidence is anything to go by he seems to have mastered the gestures necessary to fulfil the role of Holy Father.

No, no, no

Good to hear Sir John Major (Prime Minister between 7 BB and 0) on this morning's 'Today' programme. Most interesting to hear him utter 'no, no, no' on more than one occasion. Has he been reading his predecessor's speeches?

Golden Girls

Speaking of daughters and mothers, today's post brought Series Three of 'The Golden Girls'. Hurrah! And what an apt shade of box for most fans.

Only four more series and 'Golden Palace' to go for the How Ridiculous collection to be complete.

HR is often asked - usually by HR to be honest - which of the GGs is HR's favourite. Whichever is the first over the finishing line frankly. Seriously, 'who is your favourite Golden Girl?' is like asking 'which is your favourite part of The Holy Trinity?'. That said How Ridiculous must confess to a certain regard for Sophia.

Isn't she just the best mother?

Marie Antoinette

Marie Antoinette is one of How Ridiculous's favourite Queens, so tonight's 'Marie Antoinette: An Intimate Profile' was an especial treat.

Thankfully, the initimacy was not overdone. HR recalls some comments uttered once by Dame Barbara Cartland: 'Sex, sex, sex, it's so bad for the children.' The fact that the sex probably created the children, so might not have been that bad for them, seemed lost on the great Dame; but this is another story.

Tonight's story included contributions from Antonia Fraser (whose 'Marie Antoinette : The Journey' was much enjoyed) and Evelyne Lever (author of the yet to be read 'Marie Antoinette: The Last Queen of France').

Sadly, there was no contribution from Munro Price, whose 'The Fall of The French Monarchy' gripped How Ridiculous during the summer of 2004. It is perhaps the best single book HR has read on the French Revolution.

What befell Louis XVI's consort (as indeed what befell Louis XVI) has always filled How Ridiculous with a deep sense of outrage. Yet The Queen met her end with courage. As Munro Price wrote:

'Throughout her life Marie Antoinette had striven to emulate her redoubtable mother, who in 1740 had saved her empire by mounting a horse and rallying her people. In the last years of her life she often invoked the memory of the dead empress....In February 1792 she had reminded Kaunitz of his past services to the empress, and assured him that 'come what may, her daughter will show the same mettle as her mother'. Marie Antoinette kept her promise. In her last moments, as the tumbril turned into the Place de la Revolution and she mounted the scaffold, she showed herself worthy of Maria Theresa.'

Perhaps, after all, Oscar Wilde was wrong about daughters and mothers.

Meaty story

Happily, the following headline was in today's Sun rather than the Sport:

‘Macca’s veggie dog Ollie sick after scoffing Fatboy’s sausage’

Strange, How Ridiculous thought Macca's dog went by another name...

Saint Joan

The 1993 'at worst...the best of Boy George and Culture Club' CD closed with some memorable words uttered by Quentin Crisp: 'London hasn't seen a performance like this since Sybil Thorndike appeared in St Joan.'

Well, this evening How Ridiculous is able to paraphrase the words of the great man: 'HR hasn't seen a performance like this since Joan Rivers appeared on the stage of the Palladium.'

Yes, the DVD of 'Joan Rivers (still a)Live at the London Palladium' arrived this morning. How Ridiculous was lucky enough to be present at the show when it was being recorded. What happy memories have been stirred of that October night!

Sadly, there has been some editing - including Kit and the Widow's warm up slot, the highlight of which, for HR, was a moving remix of 'Mandy' - a devoted tribute to Peter Mandelson, European Commissioner, serial resigner but never quitter.

Additonally, Miss Rivers's extended comments about Michael Jackson have been cut which HR won't go into here or indeed anywhere.

Perhaps most sadly the entire Q and A session after the completion of the main show has been cut. Miss Rivers absolutely sparkled as she responded to questions from the audience. How Ridiculous will always regret not asking the greatest comedienne of them all if she had any fashion tips for Cherie Blair....

Speedos save the day

Many swimmers, including those of a royal bent (see left), have been known to don speedos. How Ridiculous is no exception.

Sadly, before Christmas all HR's pairs reached a state of near indecency. Sports stores the length of breadth of the high street were scoured for replacements. Could speedos be found? Could they buffalo, to quote a non-natural conker.

With some degree of trepidation How Ridiculous resorted to a make of swimming garb with an elasticated waist rather than the tie waist which is the joy of speedo donners pools over.

As feared, an elasticated waist turned out to be not a wise move. Hitting the water things headed South which impeded swimming vigour but not half-mooning. Ok, a smaller size would be the answer thought HR. Unfortunately, this, too, failed to do the trick although things did not go as free range as they had with the larger size.

Then upon a visitation to the North of England over the Yuletide season, How Ridiculous managed to source some speedos. Hurrah!

So 2006 begins happily with HR able to swim with whatever degree of vigour is desired. No longer is swimming cursed by the fear of those lyrics being heard which The Seekers didn't quite record: 'Kuverbarearse, my Lord, kuverbarearse'.

Respect encore

By some spooky coincidence Respect Day sees How Ridiculous complete 'The Likes of Us', Michael Collins's brilliant biography of the white working class.

How Ridiculous wonders if the respect espousers have read this 'masterpiece' (Julie Burchill's word)? If so, they would know that the plastic window and satellite dish class know all about respect - and the lack of it.

If you have not read the book: do so. It is far from ridiculous which is more than can be said for some of the opinions and actions directed at the likes of us.

Respect

The email from Downing Street declares 'Today was Respect day'. Mr Cameron has also spoken on the theme. How Ridiculous is all for a bit of Respect - especially if it leads to a revival for Adeva.

Trannies for Maggie

An interview with Neil Jordan on contactmusic.com about 'Breakfast on Pluto'. It is headlined: 'Thatcher's style inspired transvestite film'. Mr J comments that he dressed Cillian Murphy in a 'Maggie' inspired power suit. (Does this mean CM's character 'Kitten' has been named after Theresa May's heels?)

According to Mr J: 'I wanted Cillian to basically look like Margaret Thatcher...(she) was beloved of English transvestites for many years and I think she did like it.'

How Ridiculous is not sure if Lady Thatcher will have ever met any transvestites, or whether she liked being their beloved, but at least she is no stranger to the company of queens, as demonstrated by picture left.

2 March it is then...

We live in exciting times.

The Lib Dems have announced that the result of the leadership election will be revealed on 2 March. As yet, Sir Menzies is the only declared candidate. Will Simon Hughes stand? How Ridiculous met him once. Well, not met him exactly; but HR was stood behind the great man in a queue at a tube station so it was as good as.

How shall we all cope with the suspense of the (possible) contest? To mind comes Dennis Pennis' observation to Pierce Brosnan: "When I went to see Goldeneye, I was glued to my seat.......otherwise I would have left."

And now to something completely different

An interesting interview with Neil Jordan in today's Sunday Times magazine. It is to promote 'Breakfast on Pluto', his latest film, which opens this week. How Ridiculous is much looking forward to it having only on Friday seen 'The Crying Game'. Somewhat shockingly it was the first time although, of course, the single of the title track has long been part of the How Ridiculous collection. There is also 'The End of the Affair' to watch. Perusal of the novel was completed on a Sunday last September on the banks of Lake Windermere.

There is also a fascinating article about John Prescott in the same magazine. If ever this country becomes a republic he should run for President. Imagine the campaign slogan: 'Prezza for Pressa'. Come to think of it 'Prezza for Prezza' sort of sums up the article.

Tony Banks RIP

News has just broken that Tony Banks has died. Warm tributes have been paid. All have mentioned his passion for sport, especially football, and his commitment to animal rights. How Ridiculous remembers his question to John Major in 1995:

'Mr. Banks: Does the Prime Minister agree with the words of the Minister of State for the Armed Forces, the hon. Member for Crawley (Mr. Soames), that Princess Diana is in an advanced state of paranoia?

The Prime Minister: I have no intention of being drawn into making any comments in the aftermath of last Monday. '

Sir John was also never drawn into commenting on Tony Banks' description of Nicholas Soames as a 'one man food mountain'.

He will be greatly missed.

It has not been a good start to 2006 for the Labour Party with the loss of Philip Whitehead, Lord Merlyn-Rees, Rachel Squire and now Lord Stratford.

Happy Birthday Dame Shirley

Something of a Dame Shirley Bassey weekend for it is THE diva's 69th birthday today. Or, as she might prefer to see it, the 40th anniversary of her 29th birthday. 2006 is also her 50th year as a recording artist (and her 53rd in showbusiness). It is also the tenth anniversary of the release of what is for How Ridiculous one of her best studio albums to date: 'The Show Must Go On'. As the pretty picture left shows, she is playing Wembley Arena in June. She is also appearing in Glasgow, Manchester, Cardiff and Birmingham. A new album is due and the broadcast of 'Another Audience With Shirley Bassey', so much for DSB's fans to look forward to.

First post

What a day to initiate a blog: Charles Kennedy resigns; news breaks that Tony Banks is gravely ill; and my copy of 'Chunky' arrives after much searching of online second hand book sites. So I suppose every cloud has a silver lining or in this case a gold lining for that is what 'Chunky' is: pure gold.

This afternoon I went to see 'Brokeback Mountain'. Having once worked in a record and video store and having had to set up...let's just call it...the 'adult' section, the highlight of which was that well known remake 'Forest Hump', I imagine it won't be long before 'BM' is remade and appropriately retitled. Anyway, the film was indeed magnificent and lived up to all the reviews I seemed to spend my spare time yesterday reading. If Mr Ledger doesn't win an Oscar, I'll go to the foot of our stairs.

I don't know if the cinema's management were being ironic but before and after the feature the auditorium was filled with the dulcet tones of Dame Shirley Bassey. Fitting really given the subject of the film - and the makeup of the audience. 'The Party's Over', 'Let there be love', 'Gone', 'Killing me softly with his song', all of them tying in with BM.

Ah, cinema audiences - how ridiculous are they? They come in clutching their produce and it seems the larger they are the larger the produce they clutch. They sit quietly through all the adverts and the trailers. Then the main feature commences and, hey presto, so does the can opening, the packet ripping, the munching and crunching, the bag rustling, the coughing, the toilet dashes etc, etc, etc...

Ridiculous!