One or t'other

Hakka / No-Hakka

Nope. Not a unreleased Frank Zappa album. The All Blacks' dance and shout thing they do before the game. BLISS does not agree (well she didn't last time we talked about at, but I think she's a closet New Zealand fan). In fact few agree. In fact, I'm nailing my colours right out on a limb here. This isn't any anti-Kiwi sentiment or sour grapes at how they dominate international rugby.

This is simply my anti-faffing about, let's get on with it approach. Changing room, pitch, kick off. Up to me? I'd dispense with the anthems (at least until we can come up with something better than the dirge we have, God save the Queen, she 'aint here, 'cos she don't care, on account of there 'aint any 'orses – our taxpayer-funded royals and politicians have broadly abandoned even giving the false perception that they're interested in sport unless it's the Olympics or your nag's strong favourite in the 3:45 at Wincanton.

If we have to have the anthems, there should be a time limit. The Sri Lanka one starts off OK, but it's an epic of Bohemian Rhapsody / Stairway to Heaven proportions. One verse, one chorus. Line up, kick off. Let's get going with the main event.

My point is: either the Hakka, or your national anthem. Not both. What's to stop (say) the Netherlands coming up with some pseudo Morris dancing rubbish going on for twenty-five minutes and, for a laugh, claiming it is a fundamental part of their national sporting heritage? By all means do some face pulling, chanting, stamping and finish it off with a jump and sticking out your tongue, but make that your anthem and ditch the other one. Too much rite and ritual. Oh, and not much use to you lot yesterday, was it? Heh.

Bit of a worry...

...the only telly series I've managed to watch in recent years are:

Hit and Miss: transgender hit-woman returns to family. Violence, complicated sexual themes. Bad language. Prosthetic penis.

Six Feet Under: Strong language, sex, drugs, death.

Generation Kill (mini-series): a Rolling Stones reporter goes in at the cutting edge with American marines. Violence and bad language.

The Sopranos: violence, drugs.

Breaking Bad: chemistry lecturer with terminal lung cancer has to make money fast for his family, so starts cooking the best-ever crystal meth. Yep. Drugs and the inevitable violence and bad language.

The Wire: dodgy cops chase drug dealers, bent dockers, so on. Drugs, violence, strong language.

Treme: New Orleans after Katrina. Food, music. Strong language, sex and violence, but not as much as seems customary.

Mrs Brown's boys: the exception to the rule, it appears.