Superbowl weekend this weekend

Superbowl XLXII

Brotherbowl: the opposing head coaches are brothers. A first and that will crank up the emotion.

The half time show is always a big deal. I remember U2 playing while the names of the 9/11 victims scrolled on the screen behind them. Being New Orleans, I was hoping for Dr John, Kermit Ruffins and the Dirty Dozen Brass Band. I think it's Beyonce, fresh from the 'singing along with a pre-recording' (how miming is now described?) controversy surrounding her singing the anthem at the president's swearing in shindig, with Jay-Z guesting.

I had a Superbowl ritual: I sat in front of the telly at very late o'clock surrounded by supplies of beer and crisps (there was always beer left over, I always ran out of crisps) and watched the spectacle as Sunday melted into Monday.

Then I started missing the end.

Now I give in to the inevitable and set the recorder (if I remember) and try to watch it later. The problem is that watching sport live is enthralling and absorbing. Watching later is a chore spent with the finger n the FF button, knowing the outcome.

The Mardi Gras programme is being changed to accommodate the build up and the game, but what a fantastic time visiting fans will have. The Superdome stadium (as it then was) provided shelter to many after hurricane Katrina struck.

Small Brain

That's what I'm equipped with. I can't cope with the written word if there's simultaneous words coming in the ears. Some sort of malfunction occurs. I love listening to music while reading or writing. Reading an article about Robert Wyatt, I scribbled 'Max Richter' on a notepad. Anyone who has Wyatt reading short extracts from Haruki Murakami books has to be worth a listen.

William Gibson and Murakami are the two authors whose books I pick up as they're published. Same with Wyatt. Hopping from foot to foot for the cd through the door.

I've listened to Richter's 'Songs from Before' and Herbert's (Matthew Herbert's) 'Bodily Functions' today, both first listens, and they're both pretty damn good.

I'd have to call any business venture that: Small Brain Publishing. Small Brain Records. The Small Brain Corporation.

Rights does not equal right

Since Thatcher's reign, I suppose, we've had that 'what abut my rights?' cry. From the right to a huge bonus and to whatever of the planet's resources you want right here, right now. A character in The Submission, speaking at a public meeting, says rights don't equal right. Reminded me of a difficult meeting with a twisted individual, who kept claiming that he was acting within the law and doing nothing wrong. I remember suggesting that there was nothing illegal about selling his house to the first passer by for a penny, that while he was within his rights wandering across the recreation ground during a cricket match, as it was public land, it was neither sensible, advisable, nor right to do so.

He mistakenly thought someone else had made these outrageous and aggressive and ridiculous statements questioning his right to do whatever he wanted, a started issuing long, ramblings-of-a-lunatic letters and slashing tyres and smashing windscreens. Sadly, I wasn't surprised or dismayed, it was all too predictable.

As the reporter in the book records:

QL (quotable line): RIGHTS ≠ RIGHT