Monday, October 22, 2007

Muddied oafs

No, I didn't watch England losing pluckily in the rugby, or Lewis Hamilton arsing up, but maybe still winning because someone else used the wrong flavour petrol. As far as I'm concerned, rugby and Formula 1 are only of any interest when stuff goes wrong: a match that descends into a blood-and-mud-bath (the Swamp Thing at the top is ex-England prop Fran Cotton, surely the hardest man ever to have a girl's name apart from maybe Shirley Crabtree); or a race that features a massive pile-up, preferably involving innocent spectators. And neither of those things happens any more, it seems. So I'll stick to croquet, ta.

In any case, while all those manly men were driving nowhere in Brazil, I was at the Joe Louis Theatre at the Suan Lum night bazaar here in Bangkok, watching a traditional puppet show about Hanuman the monkey god. Who's a friendlier bloke than the monkeys of Delhi, it seems.

The reason we lurched into such a self-evident tourist trap is the presence of my old buddy and self-evident tourist Emma, who came laden with the sort of stuff you can't get in Thailand, like decent peanut butter and the latest edition of Plan B magazine. Perusal of which seems to suggest that I'm not really that into new music any more, but I still like reading about it. And without reopening the wounds of the Paul Morley skirmish from last week, beginning a review of a subversive Ethiopian funk compilation with a quotation from Roland Barthes is always going to be a sound move in my book.

7 comments:

Rimshot said...

No review of the monkey god revue?

What does constitue 'new music' these days, anyway?

You're quite the lucky man, living on foreign sands, eating exotic delicasies like this butter made from legumes...

dh said...

Funny that. I did watch the Rugby. and I was struck by how trim and 'good-looking' the players were. Very dashing. And not so massive as I remember either. I seem to remember at school the rugger chaps had a certain neanderthal quality.

Robert Swipe said...

Would the Ethiopian funk compilation be a part of the Ethiopiques series, Timster? If so, I thoroughly recommend no. 6 which features the work of Mahmoud Ahmed...

Nice piece by your goalie in the Obs on Sunday too. David James was bemoaning the bad reputation of the England football squad in relation to their counterparts in the game they play with the wrong shaped ball and other so-called sports like creekeet etc. I didn't know this, but apparently ever since the recent friendly with Spain, the England football boys have been giving their match fees to charity; win, lose or draw.

I don't usually find that much to cheer me in the current England squad, but that did.

Bob

Billy said...

Monkey gods are generally a good thing. And I enjoy doing all the tourist stuff when I have visitors.

Tim Footman said...

Read the Ramayana, Rimshot. It's all in there.

DH: Maybe telly rugby is a different game from ugly adolescent rugby. Like union and league.

I've always liked Calamity, Bob, even since before he discovered the righteous path. And the charidee thing is a little glimmer of hope in a horrid universe.

Billy: but the worst thing is that they expect you to know all the stuff, like a tourist guide. "What do you mean you don't know when the British Museum was built? You live in London!"

Pashmina said...

You don't rate Marion Morrison then? Or is that just too obvious?

Tim Footman said...

Ah, but the Duke wasn't that hard really, Pashmina. He was scared of horses, you know.

And Bob, meant to say, it was the Very Best of Ethiopiques. Sounds fantastic.