Observations from a Hill

So, the World Cup is over for another four years: there you go. Last night's Final was a bit of a curate's egg to be honest, with one side making an effort to win the game by actually advancing into their opponent's half and - shock, horror! - trying to score goals. Meanwhile, the opposition fannied about in their own half, rarely venturing out of its confines, and for ninety minutes doing bugger all than try to draw fouls and the occasional corner, as if the only chances they fancied were set-pieces. Spain played damned well to little reward until extra time. Argentina played the kind of negative football that gives this game such bad odour to us fans of rugby union: diving and play-acting for the officials [thankfully in this case to little avail] rather than actually indulging in playing the game. It really was a noisome spectacle at times. In the end, it panned out as it always should have, with a very well deserved trophy for Spain. At the match's conclusion, when ...

Ah, the idyll that is the bottom of our garden on a fine summer's eve, cooking cheeseburger on the barbie. Two things immediately spring to mind with a third thought in tow: firstly, the charcoal I'm using, which I sourced locally [blog posts passim] from Parc Y Moch via Spar. When I bought it, I paid what I thought was a rather premium price to support a local micro-business; but it has turned out to be quite the economical purchase, as this is now the fifth or sixth fire I've made from the bag. Compared to the apparently cheaper, garage-bought easy-light stuff, it pans out to be a much cheaper option and makes a rather more superior barbecue fire to boot. Secondly, tonight's burgers have proved a considerably better repast than the very meagre luncheon-of-which-we-partook at The Bull in Biwmares this afternoon. Granted, my pint of Bass ale was at its best, but alas, the food was not. Given that the new summer Sunday menu is so - ordinarily I would hazard, creditably -...

Jane brought my attention to a piece on the front of today's Guardian newspaper regarding the intended funding of very-right-leaning 'think'-tanks across Europe, including some in the UK, by the US government. One principal beneficiary in the UK would be the 878 group, which includes such luminaries of the UK far-right as Jacob Rees-Mogg and Toby Young; having amongst its advisors Dr. Radomir Tylecoat, former Rees-Mogg special advisor. The central tenet of this 'non-partisan' group of 'thinkers' seems to be more of the usual right-wing fare: '"...focus[ed] on advancing fundamental freedoms."'. Exactly what are these 'fundamental freedoms' supposed to be, one may ask? On past reckoning the kind of people involved in this kind of organisation would seem to espouse a very partial and partisan idea of 'freedom'; that of the freedom to exploit privilege, contacts and insider information to pecuniary gain. That of the freedom to t...

It's very much a time of Hello, Goodbye, to echo the Beatles' song from 1967's Magical Mystery Tour EP and film; in particular, hello to the incoming Prime Minister in the person of Andy Burnham, which feels positive indeed, as he represents the kind of values that I hold to be true: a balanced world-view that sees further than pure state socialism and into the real world of small business and the High Street, whilst maintaining the core values of socialism itself. There have been many goodbyes to well-known public figures of late, but today's news of the death of Sir Garfield Sobers is the one of note for me. A true cricketing legend and personal hero of mine from the sixties and seventies, he elevated the role of the all-rounder to almost mythical status; along with Kallis, et al, he was one of the very best cricketers of all time, and formed part of the backbone, the very sinew, as captain, of the greatest West Indies test side of all time during the golden era of th...

As I said last night, I'm keeping posts short and sweet due to my current optical challenges - wearing two pairs of stacked spectacles to replace my knackered readers is not exactly conducive to writing much more than a shopping list at best. Just finished watching 1979's 'Zulu Dawn', one of those Cinemascope epics featuring a - literal - cast of thousands in the making. It's interesting to note that we now don't tend to step outside of the narrative bubble whilst considering films of this nature and wonder just how these cinematic scenes of mass hand-to-hand human conflict or whatever else is being depicted were created. We simply now automatically assume the intervention of CGI and don't trouble to marvel at the epic played out before us. It strikes me that our blasé acceptance of this layer of technological fictivity has somehow numbed the wonder that we naturally had when we knew for sure that, despite the fact we were watching a fictional narrative, a l...

Well, it's a glorious evening here in Fairview Heights: I've cooked Sheesh Kebabs on the barbie, welcomed some new guests to the cottage and discovered the delights of Radio 3 Unwind: the perfect accompaniment to an early evening in the garden. However, the footie beckoned at eight o' clock, despite it being England - the country of my birth, not of my heart - playing Argentina for a place in the final of the World Cup. A physical, hard-bastard kind of game thus far, it's pretty evenly pitched and could go either way. Anyhow, I'm currently optically challenged - my optician's appointment is ten days away, and I'm on improvised reading tackle for a while, so I'm keeping these posts as short as possible to save my eyes. O, the joys of old age! Whatever, pictured is a scene taken from my BBQ at the bottom of the garden this evening. Keep you posted on domestic stuff: the football will look after itself...