The Submission
Amy Waldman had written one of those
'what if...' novels. What if there was an anonymous competition for
architects to design the 9/11 memorial to be constructed on the site
of the Twin Towers, and a Muslim architect won.
About a third of the way through, the
jury are squirming, wriggling, backpeddling and looking for
loopholes. Press leaks are surfacing. The architect is non-practising
(in religious, not architectural terms) almost to the point of
atheism, but he's won the competition after all and feels he should
have what's his by right, as an American. The Muslim political
lobbyists are part-supporting, part-using him. The local politicians
are desperately looking for the same loopholes as the jury, looking
over their shoulders at the voters, and looking at what they should
be saying according to their party lines.
It's a gripping and intense what if?
The New Statesman...
...has published
(one of those gallery of pictures with a brief note for each one,
that take an age to get through on line) the ten worst UK pop bands.
Pleasingly, I've neither heard of, or had to endure hearing most* of
them:
At 10: 5ive*. A
boy band. Therefore, of no interest to blokes.
At 9: Liberty
X*. The losers on a pre-X-Factor load of rubbish called Popstars. Not
seen or heard either.
At 8: Hear'Say*:
They were the winners on Popstars. Apparently.
At 7: Wet Wet
Wet. First ones I knew anything about. They were actually taken quite
seriously for some reason. I feel less alone now. I always thought
there were two 'Wets' too many in the name for an accurate
description and for the trading standards to be met.
At 6: Busted*:
Think one of the kids might've had a dabble, at a very early age.
At 5: PJ and
Duncan: Now known as Ant and Dec. Swindlers and cheats they're still
an overpaid slime oozing from the TV set. As with Wet Wet Wet, it's
good to have someone else slate them to assuage feelings of
loneliness. They're rapidly heading for that national treasure, as
revered as the Queen Mum corner, when they should be in the corner of
a dumpster somewhere. Bodies disposed of.
At 4 all the way
to 1: Dolly Rockers*, H & Claire*, One True Voice*, and Fast Food
Rockers*.
In the world of
rock 'n' roll, how did anyone go with One True Voice for a name
without seeing the One True Vice as the must have alternative? I bet,
while claiming some legendary superlad status, that fat fraud Moyles
played most of those above because they were on the playlist. He's about
as laddish as the South Surrey Women's Institute Sewing Circle.
Will Self on food
Also in the NS
Will Self describes the chicken in his smoked chicken salad as
tasking like petrol station ham. As with the bands above, I'm happy
not to have had to endure that experience. It sounds memorable, and
disgusting. The bit I had difficulty with was a chain charging £15.81
for a chicken salad. I'm back to my local pub, how can they justify
£8 for a burger and chips riff here, but, really, there's
restaurants will serve you properly cooked liver and bacon, with
creamed spinach, new potatoes and perfectly cooked French beans for
half that. During a recession, while more restaurants go to the wall,
it really should be easier than ever before to eat good food,
properly cooked, at reasonable cost. I'd need some all-singing
all-dancing smoked chicken salad to make me feel happy handing over
sixteen quid.
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