Say No To Internet Chopin

I'm currently in my 41st year on this mortal coil. Time to get into classical music then.

Many moons ago the lovely Bev Lee Harling lay me down on a couch and asked me to run through what instruments, styles and moods I appreciate. Afterwards she wrote out a list of pieces I'd possibly enjoy and handed it over to me like some kind of prescription.

Today I took said prescription to the modern music-purchasing chemist - the internet. However, buying classical MP3s feels dirty. If we went Bach in time and told the great classical composers their work was now compressed into poor quality invisible bits of data going for 79p a pop I bet they wouldn't Handel it very well. Their music is fine art and deserves a better medium to be expressed through. MP3s should be reserved for the likes of Kasabian and Lady Gu Gu.

Unfortunately my gramophone is at the cleaners so I'll have to default to buying the music on CD. At least it's a bit better and I'll offset any more guilt by regularly lording up the classical masters on this highly popular and influential blog. My first recommendation therefore is for 'Gnossiennes' by Eric Satie. Unless of course you still haven't hit 40. In this case, as you were with Kasabian and Lady Gu Gu. 

Will The Real Man Friday Stand Up?

You know the dilemma. You're on a quiet train and your phone rings. What to do? Well, today I was on a quiet train, my phone rang and I answered it. Why did I do that? Cue 'train voice'. In my case a monotone, self-conscious drone devoid of gags and playfulness. Just details: "I'm on the train. I get in at six. Yes. No. Yes. Fish fingers are fine. Bye."

Of course there are others on the train who don't give a damn and talk freely and loudly about their lives and don't care about offending, annoying or being judged: "Yeah, Dave. Yeah I did her Dave. Yeah, Doggy style Dave, that's right. Shit though Dave. The bloody condom came off didn't it Dave. I know Dave. Dun't matter, reckon I'm a jaffa anyway Dave. Yeah Dave. Anyway Dave. It's Spurs tonight. Should be a cracker Dave. COME ON YOU REDS!"

Of course I don't want to be as socially inept as that but I do want to overcome this self-consciousness to some extent. I vow to make it a new year resolution. I'm just going to be myself on the phone in public. Be it on the train, bus, the Co-op or down the GUM clinic with Dave's mate.

Watch out human beings in public places - the real Adrian Lancini is 'coming out'.

Healthy Body V Healthy Mind

Spent some time in a health food shop today. As I filled my basket with spinach fungus tea and gluten-free bisexual yogurt I asked myself a question, "What is point?"

I've been doing a lot of drinking lately. And some smoking. What is point of coming here and buying all this healthy shit when I constantly infiltrate my body with poisonous shit? Well, I'll tell thee what is point - balance. It's all about the B word.

To be totally healthy one would have to give up guilty pleasures. No booze, no fags, no drugs and no watching The Apprentice. If I did give up these and just drank tea and ate bisexual yogurt my body would no doubt benefit but what about my mind? My mind needs these things.

Spiritual gurus would call this a sickness. Society's sickness. I drink because my friend drinks. I smoke because my friend smokes. I watch The Apprentice because my friend watches The Apprentice. The spiritual gurus have a point but maybe risking a shorter life of joyful extremes (I feel good when drinking booze AND when drinking spinach fungus tea) and baffling inconsistencies (happily smoking one minute and cursing it the next) is just as valid as a longer life of sober and steady monotony? They should just make fags out of tofu and we'd all be happy.

NOTE TO MOTHER:
Don't worry. I'm not smoking a lot. Just after three pints or at bar mitzvahs.

The Case Against Fireworks

"Whoopie-woo, it's Fireworks Night!"

You'll notice I've refrained from calling it Bonfire Night. And you'll notice the 'whoopie woo' has a sarcastic inflection. That's because I have issues with fireworks. They have gradually replaced the bonfire as the showpiece. Bastards.

Yes, fireworks are bastards. And here's why:

1) They kill and mame people, sometimes badly

2) They pollute the atmosphere with incredibly harmful toxins which destroy tomato plants

3) They cause stress and depression to cats and monkeys

4) They create ephemeral 'thrills' that mask the true beauty of stars in an evening's sky

5) They only truly entertain people under 10 years old. If you're over 10 years old and are still entertained by them, then please for the love of God, stop it

6) Their sales are controlled by anti-Christmas extremist who use profits to buy weapons of midnight mass destruction.

That all said I do quite enjoy Catherine Wheels