Monthly Archives: September 2005

Review Of A New Spork

Inspired by¬†this post, guest drivel-merchant Katy hereby reviews a spork…

I’m actually road testing a spork right now! It’s what Marks & Spencers have switched to instead of the razor sharp fork they previously offered. And here is my review (used with Chicken & Mushroom Risotto)…

Admittedly it looks really cool, and would do well on the forth plinth in Trafalgar square, but as a utensil, it’s frankly rubbish.

Ok, so it picks up rice ok, but it’s too bowl shaped to get your mouth around it enough to eat it all. You end up talking the spork out of your mouth again with lots still on it (or in it) like you get when you feed a reluctant baby with baby food. Nobody wants to see that with someone my age. I suppose you could lick it off with your tongue like a lolly, but despite sounding fun, is again not pretty.

It also does that weird thing with your mouth like when you eat cereal with a soup spoon because you can’t be bothered to wash up and it’s all you have left. And as for picking up chunks of chicken – forget it. The prongs are too stubby. You can poke at it but you can’t pick it up. Instead you are forced to balance it on the lip of the spork ‘bowl’ and attempt to hold it there as it makes the journey to your mouth. You can imagine the calamity that frequently ensues.

So I’m sorry Sporky, much as I am not against mutant utensils, indeed I find the cork screw / bottle openers (or scrootle opener perhaps) most pleasing, I don’t think I’ll be consigning Spoony or Forky to the museum just yet.

Maybe spoons and forks are a metaphor for life after all – Be an individual – you work better that way.

So there you have it. Marks and Spencer are continuing to follow their own self-destructive course, emulating the BBC in their ideology, “If it ain’t broke, let’s break it”.

Back Again, Meh

Well, I guess it’s about time I let both of you know what I’ve been up to. First off, I’ve been busy in my Dad’s house, sorting out his possessions, sending stuff to the dump, to charity shops, and bringing loads home with me.

As you can imagine, it’s a task by turns sad, funny, stressful, depressing, uplifting, nostalgic and dusty. My mother died in 2000, so it’s a case of clearing out the family home. I wasn’t actually born there, I was born when my parents lived across the road (actually I was born in a hospital, but you know what I mean), but the house was the family home for 30 years. A lot of stuff accrues in that time. So I guess I’d better report back with a progress report when I know more. It’s gonna be a heck of a process.

Sporks

While clearing out my Dad’s cutlery drawer, I found these two metal sporks. I always remember them from our myriad caravan holidays. I’ve seen lots of Spork worship around the web, but that’s been mainly aimed at the plastic variety. I think these could be the ultimate…

I wonder if these people would be interested: The Slightly Less Than Official Spork Homepage, Wikipedia: Spork, Ahh, jeez.

Lambs To The Slaughter

My pals Kristen and Ian have started blogs today, so head on over and take a look.

First up, Wannabe Scriptwriter is all about the pain and the passion that is being a wannabe scriptwriter and actual movie extra. Expect discussions on when it is appropriate to eat Rich Tea, and when HobNobs are in order. From post number 1, it’s looking like a heck of a ride.

Then there’s StuffWhatIHaveWroted, the discordant ramblings of a true original. Expect nothing less than total submission. Again, first post looking splendid.

I bid you welcome, guys. Welcome to a world of checking your rankings, trying to figure out trackbacks, and of course, hurt.

My Theatre CV Database Fixed

I finally got around to fixing the database problem with my Theatre CV. So head on over and take a look. You can see what I’ve been in through the years, which groups I’ve done stuff with, and where they are. It also features links to all the groups (where possible) and to the various venues.

You can search by group, or sort them all by year, or look for a particular show. Enjoy yourself! If you should feel the need to congratulate me (or correct me), by all means drop me a line.

p.s. Other Theatrical stuff here

Collage – The Serial Killer’s Artform of Choice

Watched Red Dragon on DVD from Lovefilm.com the other day. Not as good as the book by a long stretch, but OK in it’s way. I was shocked at how Anthony Hopkins’ Southern US accent was even worse than Brian Cox’s in Manhunter (“You’re a killer, Wolvereeeeen, always have beeeeen” – OK that was from X-Men 2 but you get the idea).

Sorely missed was the killer playing In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida really loudly while stalking a blind woman round his flat – as seen in Manhunter. Also the wall of his flat was covered by a huge blow-up of the surface of Mars – really cool. Must visit Prontaprint with some downloaded NASA snaps.

Then more recently I watched the end of Messiah IV – The Harrowing* with the super Ken Stott looking perturbed, and Helen McCrory doing what she does best – collapsing in great snotty tears, like she did in Anna Karenina. She slid down the wall in that one, so snotty were her tears.

Anyway, Ken gets hold of the killer’s journal, and surprise surprise, it’s a bloomin’ great book with pasted-in photos, newspaper clippings, and loony scribblings. Just like Frances Dolarhyde’s book in Red Dragon/Manhunter.

And Kevin Spacey’s journals in Se7en. And many many more. It’s clear – the movie serial killer’s artform of choice is Collage.

Every time the detective (usually with marital and/or drink problems) gets into the killer’s lair, they find a big book filled with newspaper snippets, reviews, photos of people with the eyes cut out with nail scissors, scrawled judgments on the world, a picture of the detective’s wife, bus tickets, a receipt for a hedgetrimmer from Homebase, and of course some really bad pastel art featuring lots of the colour red, and heavy-handed symbology.

What are we to read from this? They’re frustrated artists? Obsessive collectors? Egotists? What worries me at the moment, is that along with the Lakeland Kitchen catalogue through the post, which is cool, I also receive (unrequested) the Lakeland Hobbies catalogue, with lots of handy gadgets and materials for making collages and scrapbooks. They are feeding the filmatic crimewave with their unholy glitter and paste. And with those prices, murder could be said to be justified.

What alternatives are there? Scrapbooking and Collage are rather solitary pursuits. I can’t help thinking fewer bodies would be found with just the kidneys missing, and fewer walls scrawled with, “Oops I did it again” in victim-blood, if these people found another hobby. Walking perhaps. Get out in the fresh air. And I don’t mean stalk the dark urban alleyways, hammer in hand. No. Tooting Bec Common on a Sunday afternoon.

Or how about modern dance? Performance Art? Actually, no – a lot of the performance art I witness seems to come from the fevered imaginings of your screw-loose set anyway, come to think of it.

But when all’s said and done, I hesitate to recommend theatre. Too risky.

* Not to be confused with Highlander II – The Quickening, or Watership Down II – The Burrowing.