What I Did On My Creative Writing Course - Part Two

...part one is here...

Dan was someone who could not stand to miss mealtimes, partcularly lunch, and it he could ill conceal his joy at Aunt Carmen's suggestion that they go and get something to eat. Various images of indian food, chinese, fish and chips and doner kebabs all vied for his attention, causing him to almost start salivating like a dog. That was the problem with Britain, there was so much choice when it came to junk food. He managed to steer the decision towards the chippie, his stomach almost howling in anticipation, which was only round the corner and did a mean plaice in batter.

Feeling unusually bloated afterwards, he'd had to help Aunt Carmen with the bulk of her chips and the batter, much of which she'd scraped off the fish, he was happy to spin out the lunch break a while, as they perched on two chairs in the otherwise empty space that had been his living room.

"so do you think you'll stay in Croatia then?" asked Aunt Carmen.

"Estonia. I live in Estonia".

"oh ok, yes Peter and I were looking for it on a map the other day, that's Riga, yes?"

"Tallinn".

"oh. We'll have to come over some time, when it's not too cold – what's it like in October?"

"nice, autumn's a nice time of year to come"

"but isn't it too cold? When does the winter start?"

"Well look, people live there year round and everything continues to function. We're not on the arctic circle or something"

Dan was starting to get a bit frustrated at this commonly held view that people seemed to have of Estonia being a slavic speaking country lying somewhere between Armenia and Greenland, perhaps forgetting that he too once had only the vaguest notions of where his adoptive homeland was.

"have you got a girlfriend yet?"

"No, too busy."

That old chestnut, you'd have thought he'd have a better rebuttal prepared.

"oh. Just playing the field then".

"not at all".

Dan was always anxious to dispel the image that many of the older generation seemed to have of him as being some kind of lothario who went round with a couple of blondes in traditional clothing, over each shoulder. Not that he didn't want to do that, he just didn't want to be that.

"How's work there, the salaries must be awfully low".

Aunt Carmen wasn't going to give up, though she'd pushed yet another one of his buttons, that kind of mawkish sentiment that accompanied westerners incredulity at statistics they'd heard of people surviving on 27p per year. Also it was too close to the truth, he'd initially taken something like a 90 per cent pay cut when he'd moved to the baltics.

"I keep busy".

"what is it you do again, you're an English teacher".

"well, some of the time." 

Actually Dan always felt inadequate at being 'just another English teacher' and thus had half jacked it in and started doing other things. Proofreading, well, that still evoked soft shoes and cable knit sweaters. Real estate investing, now that sounded a killer, although it wasn't quite true. He was selling the flat in part to use the equity to get started in that area, but he knew in reality he was never going to be the Donald Trump of Tallinn, rents were too low and banks too stingy to make much of an income for the foreseeable future. 

"I'm setting up a company too".

"Right, right. Are you sure you are hard headed enough for that? I mean, I always had you down as a reasearcher or something, you always had your head in a book when the other boys were playing football".

"Yeah, well I can learn. I'm reselling Alex's car product and that's been really successful here, so I'm just leveraging that to sell in Estonia. There's bound to be people who want it".

Dan felt that he'd done enough for this to pass as a conversation and, whilst he still had that feeling that he could do so much better, he'd ticked enough boxes to not feel too guilty on the flight home.

The vinyl actually went to a charity shop- in Leamington, dodging the traffic on the Parade, the evening rush hour was now under way, Dan ran into the first place they could find -the British Heart foundation, clutching a big plastic box of treausred LPs. He hoped they had customers with tastes broad enough to encompass the Cult, John Coltrane and Huey Lewis and the News. A few had received a stay of execution it was true, most of the U2 albums, and the duelling banjos from Deliverance, but since these were going back to Aunt Jemima's for a later postage over to Tallinn at a later date, and Dan didn't have anything to play them on anyway, it hardly seemed relevant.

Suddenly, the task was almost done, ancient looking spiders quite literally stretched their many legs in their new-found space. He stooped to sweep up a pile of cigar like dried leaves, which ruslted and gave off a not unpleasant nutty smell. How these had got into the locked garage was a mystery. Just down to the neutral items, a coffee flask or some rusty old paint tins, which were hardly going to tug at Dan's emotions now. There was one terrible moment when Aunt Carmen pulled out some long-forgotten glossy magazines from a padded envelope. Nothing was said, she simply put them back in and continued.

"...As I say, you're welcome to anything you want".

He kept his equilibrium in check externally at least.

Dan was feeling humbled. Humbled that his Aunt had sacrificed a day to help him, completely without merit. Humbled that his life really wasn't so complex, that he wasn't such a big shot after all, that it was all done with in the space of a few hours. Humbled by the passing of time; it was five years since he'd been back to the flat and the surrounding area was no longer his. The Kia showroom was closed. The internet cafe was now a pizza place. Years of smoking had taken their toll on the girl that worked at the library. He didn't even flinch at the two drunk russians waring England football shirts, half hanging off each other as they remonstrated in the street – he forgot he wasn't in Tallinn. He felt liberated too. He had got by for five years without this stuff so did he really need it anyway? Now his life was becoming more manageable.

"So, thanks for everything" was his parthian shot

"give my regards to uncle Peter"

"I will, remember to send us your address in Finland in time for Christmas" well she was getting closer. Dan was not one for goodbyes, a quick peck on the cheek, then slowly following the car out of the drive and watching it as far as the turnoff at the end of the street with one arm limply raised in an Italian fascist salute then he was free to be Dan again.

On the plane back to Tallinn, no, home, Dan knew he was going to sleep soundly that night in spite of the unusual heat and humidity that had been squatting on the city for some time. He'd decided that Aunt Carmen wasn't someone to be apprehensive of, not some kind of superhuman but just his Auntie, that's all. She had insecurities, aspirations and mediocrity, just like him. He was glad he'd shared that catharsis with her rather than done it alone, and vowed to come and help clear out her garage in five years time..or sooner.

What I Did On My Creative Writing Course

..Part one of an effort to convey moving away...

Dan left his flat quickly and easily, but it took him nearly five years to realize it. Hurriedly moving to the baltic states with just a rucksack had meant that he'd had to leave the bulk of his effects behind, in the flat, or more accurately the garage, in Stratford upon Avon. 

At least he'd thought to keep things up off the floor, thus avoiding the flood damage from the terrible rainstorms of 2000 and whenever. 

Through all this time he'd kept the flat, let out to tenants, and little by little it ceased to be his. But now he needed to sell, and the new owners were unreceptive to keeping on oily toolboxes, worn leather sofas and ikea tables.

He wasn't going to be able to do this clearing out task alone. Returning on a flight from Tallinn, midweek and at short notice, he could hardly ask the few people he still knew who lived and worked in the area to down tools and come and help. 

Fortunately for Dan, his Aunt Carmen lived in nearby Leamington Spa and hadn't seen him since he moved away – yes, she'd be delighted to help him, came the email. 

Childless herself, Aunt Carmen was fond of Dan ever since, as a little boy, he'd announced that she was his 'other mother'. His own mother had moved to the Northeast of England which made visiting from Tallinn even more difficult, and this time they only managed a phone conversation.

"I had SUCH a bad journey over here".. Aunt Carmen arrived, as she neatly slotted her bulky Subaru into the one parking space Dan had reserved by standing in it for 45 minutes, smoking. She was driving an automatic now, he noticed.. She'd only come about 5 miles.

"Ohhh you're smoking – don't tell your mother about that, she'll be upset". The guilt trip had hit the ground running.

"But I can see you've made a start on the clearing out already". 

Actually, although Dan was in his smelly work clothes he had done nothing at all since he arrived apart from sleep, eat and reminisce.

He was a natural idler who was expert at finding excuses instead of acting, but who strangely found himself warming up to a task once he'd actually started it.

He had, the evening before, thrown open the garage door; a small lock up affair too awkwardly placed for actual parking use – cars had grown quite a bit in the 40 years since it was built on the site of an old people's home. The stale air smelt like a crypt, and his eyes soon became accustomed enough to the dark to see that the looming, tumbled mountain of junk which had accumulated was much bigger in reality than he had anticipated. Feeling a bit nauseated, he shut the door again and went up to the flat to relax.

"Anything you want, you're welcome to" he announced, a phrase he was going to have to repeat many times throughout the day, as Aunt Carmen spied yet another item that would look good on her mantelpiece or would replace Uncle Peter's broken one.

"what about this?" she said, picking up a hole puncher "I think the Simmonds still have ours".

"Yes, anything you want, you're welcome to".

Dan was amazed how much they managed to accomplish in so short a time, contrasting with his earlier depression. He really did start to find it enjoyable and, whilst not bursting into song, he did have one particularly catchy tune in his head for a good twenty minutes.

It was time to make a trip to the local authority garbage tip. Aunt Carmen's car was practically filled with various strata of different stages of Dan's adult life – university days and some arcane books about Whigs and Tories; the first paycheck and his beloved hi fi separates, gorgeous vinyl originals from his serious record store days, photos of trips to Lisbon, Hamburg and Dublin marked the arrival of the budget flight. A colletion of nonsense as well, horrible brass looking lamps stands, inexplicable china dishes and old printers that had never worked, this combination of the sacred and the hated being Dan's whole life laid out like an archaeologists' dig.

"can I see your permit?" asked the refuse tip worker.

"You need a permit now?" asked Aunt Carmen.

"Yeah, all the residents were sent one last year. Godda have a permit to come in".

"But he's a ratepayer, he's got a flat here, it's just that he lives in Estonia."

Dan was burning up with embarrassment, not for the last time that day, at the horror of having his sixty something year old Aunt batting for him in the face of the crippling bureaucracy of Warwickshire County Council and its lumbering enforcers.

"Well you need a permit".

"He has to have a permit? He's a ratepayer here"

"Ok, mum's the word, you can go in" the attendant relented.

"Ok thanks – he's a ratepayer, we can bring proof of that".

"Ok no worries, go on".

"It's just that he lives in Estonia, he's got a flat here".

"ok".

The tip was a little world unto itself; drop off points for all manner of different things with helpful attendants buzzing around ensuring that something glass didn't go in with something metallic. Chatter in a variety of languages added to this sense of transitoriness. It was nice to see that some things weren't going to be merely crushed; there was much that could be recycled or restored or given to charity. They'd done electrical and other bulky items first, the job was going to necessitate at least one return to this bustling little yard.

"Can we come in again later?"

"Sorry?"
"Will you let us in a second time?" asked Aunt Carmen, this time leaning across Dan to yell out of the half opened window.

"yeah of course I will love" the harrassed attendant replied.

Back at the garage, after stopping to check that the twisted piece of plastic netting that they'd driven over leaving the refuse tip indeed hadn't got tangled somewhere in the car's undertray, the next layer of Dan's life, now everything was separated into the 'keep' pile and the far bigger 'chuck' pile, was to be removed.

"What about this electric sander, I think Peter's one is on its last legs" said Aunt Carmen, having exhumed the oversized plastic box and dusted off the cobwebs.

"Just help yourself - anything you want, you're welcome to".

But now the most painful part, the books and records. There was in fact a charity box for the books, so Dan was feeling much brighter than earlier.

"Don't forget to bring your council tax statement as proof"..

The green overalled attendant waved us through without a look.

"Here's the council tax statement, for proof" Aunt Carmen waved the fluttering piece of paper whilst passing, which must have looked like any old piece of A4.

..to be continued..

Food For Thought

..some statistics I read recently:

No. of Allied (i.e. US, British and others) Divisions in France and the Low countries in late 1944:   91
No. of German divisions facing them:  65   (the numbers in a division varied hugely depending on what type of division, e.g. infantry or armoured, and whether it was at full strength, a lot of the German ones in particular wouldn't have been by this time, but we're talking thousands of men).
Length of front:   c. 400 km

compared with..



No. of Soviet divisions on the Eastern front at the same time:  560
No. of German divisions facing them:  235
Length of front:   c.  3200 km


or, earlier than that, in August 1944 not long after D Day, 38 Allied divisions encircled 20 German divisions on a 120 km front and took c 90,000 prisoners in 27 days
.
..compare that with the three Soviet offensives happening concurrently:

1) 92 Soviet divisions and 6 tank/mechanised corps (a corps was/is made up of multiple divisions) attacked 47 German and Romanian divisions on a 700 km front in South Eastern Europe, encircling 18 divisions and taking 100,000 prisoners in a week.
2) 86 Soviet divisions and 10 tank/mechanised corps attacked in Southern Poland, destroying 40 German divisions.
3) the biggest of all, launched on 22 June 1944 in Belarus and Eastern Poland, the third anniversary of the German invasion and named 'Bagration' after a general from Napoleonic times, comprised, according to the figures I have, saw 172 Soviet divisions and 12 tank/mechanised corps advancing 600 km in about two months, on a 1000 km front, defeating 67 German divisions in the process (17 of which disappeared altogether).

...now, I don't know about you but that seems a huge disparity. I had to chuckle to myself the other day when I saw a youtube poster, unfortunately I've lost the link, but I assume an American, thanking the Russians for 'watching our backs' during the war. Hmm, we must have had a hell of a big back.

The fact remains that, galling though it may be from a Western perspective, it probably wouldn't have made any difference at all if the Western theatre hadn't been opened. What would've happened if there had been no Western alliance at all, or if they'd been knocked out earlier by the Germans, is more speculative still, but presumably all of Germany would have fallen to the Soviets, not just the East, and if Germany why not France and...

Thought For The Day No. 29 - With The Rabbi Anders Weiss

...psychologist, spiritual guru and arbiter of good taste..

Scholarly life, education, and science can turn into leaves on the tree of your life, and still not bring any fruit.

George C. Lichtenberg

Always Baikalade...

..this is the drink for me ... 'Baikal', I call it Baikalade, tee hee hee...

According to wikipedia it's been produced for the last 40 years or so in Russia and was re-branded (or whatever they had instead of rebranding in the USSR) in 1973 when Pepsi arrived there.

Named after the lake, which is often cited as being the lake with the largest volume of freshwater in the world; if the appearance of lake Baikal on a map were a scar you wouldn't bother with corrective surgery, but the key to all that water is the depth, apparently it extends more or less to the centre of the earth).

I like to think it's actually made from water direct from the lake, which may account for its muddy hue, but it also contains such healthy sounding ingredients as essential oil of eucalyptus and essential oil of bay laurel. Not sure if pepsi has that. It's doing wonders for the raging cold I incongrously seem to have contracted in the summer heat, and I should imagine it would be good for a hangover too..

Western palates might find it a little odd at first, its taste is rather subtle for those of us who are used to the corn syrup that sweetens coke and the others (corn syrup is a lot less sweet than cane sugar, which explains the confusion I've always had about how much sugar they say goes into coke; after all I couldn't imagine eating a whole cupful of cane sugar, but that's 'cos it isn't actualy cane sugar that goes into the drink. They have to put so much corn syrup to make it sweet). But I swear by it now.

Available in comfortingly old-style 0.33l glass bottles (remember when coke came in those?!) and a bigger 2 litre plastic bottle, I hope this guy that I posted about all those months ago stocks it too..

Baikalade - Enjoy.

Thought For The Day No. 28 - With The Rabbi Anders Weiss

...psychologist, spiritual guru and arbiter of good taste..

I have now reigned above fifty years in victory or peace; beloved by my subjects, dreaded by my enemies, and respected by my allies. Riches and honors, power and pleasure, have waited on my call, nor does any earthly blessing appear to have been wanting to my felicity. In this situation, I have diligently numbered the days of pure and genuine happiness which have fallen to my lot: they amount to Fourteen: - O man! place not thy confidence in this present world!

Abd Ar Rahman III, Caliph of Cordoba 912-961

Off-White Nights of St Petersburg

...reusing material which was originally a course assignment (written this morning!) but passes the PMC quality control (i.e. has it been run through spellchecker?) on more or less all counts..describes day one of a recent trip to St Petersburg.

It's hard to apprehend the fact that I've arrived in the biggest country, by land area, in the world. By far the biggest; Russia is twice the size of Canada and yet the arrival here couldn't be more underwhelming. It starts gradually, and sullenly, like the people. The main road from the border to Petersburg has the consistency of a flapjack left in a rusty tin for nine months, I discover much later that corruption is such that all the backhanders at each stage of production make it such that it would quite literally be more cost effective to build a road surfaced with caviar, or a canal flowing with cognac. So noone invests in roads. The tangle of forest that begins where a pavement or verge would be in other countries is quite different from Estonian forests. This is Tolkienian bad forest, not a place to wander romantically yearning to bump into dryads, satyrs or Herne the Hunter.

Petersburg starts gradually too; I was expecting it to rear up suddenly like the concrete wall of Manhattan, for no particular reason, but it doesn't. Indeed I still thought I was in yet another small town for several kilometres, before I saw the light – of the sun bursting off the golden cupolas, real gold, of the signature Orthodox sobor, plonked down, not incongruously, but only as Russians could, in an area which at an uninterested glance could be mistaken for the west midlands. Except there would be a mosque there not a cathedral. Slava bogoo. But it seems Petersburg is a big village too, not only Moscow.

The hotel is megalithic, which suits me because I'm only small, and perfectly spruce and businesslike inside, but not a place to spend a lot of time in, Alan Partridge-like. We head out, in spite of the fatigue which makes one feel cheated for having spent so much time and effort to travel such an insignificant distance on the map, and all is gloriously chaotic after the calm and order of the Finnic lands.

Claustrophobic shopping arcades, minus the familiar chains of banks or pharmacies, the smoking ban in cafes has yet to reach Russia, but oh how zealously it might be enforced if it ever does (unlikely think). This gives eateries a shiftless feel that evokes to me the boarding house landscape of London in the 1950s, fortunately for me I'm neither black nor Irish, nor a dog; this phenomenon is however offset by a rather more verdant and healthy menu – soups with sour cream to mix in (I never do). Chopped dill, melted cheese, potatoes potatoes...

The canals and cobbles – when will they film a Bond movie here?! A kid screams past on a jet ski, under bridges, to hammer the point home. The Saviour on Spilled blood church, an ill fitting piece of muscovy in this most European looking of cities, as if small boy, being one action man short for the skirmish he has in mind, substitutes one of his sister's barbies..

The long evenings; the white nights proper haven't begun yet but these off-white nights can be deceptive too. It's late already. Trying to get a meal at 9pm; everything is shut. One old Russian woman addresses us, unsolicited in the street. The Russians are much friendlier and more open than in Tallinn. 'Eto doroga?' - I ask if it is expensive – it isn't, it turns out, but it IS shut when we arrive. Settle on a place full of young people. Two boys dressed as sailors walk by. Actually they ARE sailors. Survivors of the Kursk? Of course not. I wonder what their lives are worth to their superiors. More than the borsch which I'm slurping down? Not much I fear. As Leningrad more people died here during the siege of world war two than currently populate Estonia. Eating rats and soup made from the glue scraped from cheap furniture. I shudder.

Deep, choppy, guiness-coloured water, the skeletons of the cities builders are getting restless, and surreally bronze sunlight. The spire of the church of the Peter and Paul fortress fulfills the role of the ubiquitous TV tower in the Baltic capitals. Stranded in the centre because the swing bridges are up. That never happens at Tower Bridge in London, as if cabbies need any excuses not to go south of the river. But we can't get back to the Vasilevsky island, in the absence of a boat. How long will we be stranded here, could be hours. Espresso from a kiosk to stay awake. Empty beer bottles everywhere, the detritus of what had been a huge crowd not half an hour ago, watching the party ships coming up the Neva, now dispersed like so many pigeons or starlings. A friendly drunk accosts us. Two Lamborghinis, no Ferraris. An unstable toilet truck behind the Winter palace. Haggling with a taxi driver to take us back to the hotel (for the bridges are coming down!) He is very pious, not only an icon on the dashboard of the virgin with child but another of Sai Baba. So I guess we'll be safe, despite his kamikaze hurtle towards the impending roadblock (the bridges are coming up again already). Back at the hotel. It's deserted. I think Petersburg was like this on the night of 25^th October 1917, despite what that film depicts. I have my my three revolutions walking tour, 1905, February and October 1917, planned, but I think that has to go out of the window. Petersburg is still Russia. I don't want to blaspheme by planning anything..

60 Years Of The PMC - A New Contributor

2010 marks the 60th anniversary of the launch of the PMC. Yes, it's impossible to believe, but that's because it is impossible. To mark this auspicious occasion the PMC will be taking a retrospective of some of the outstanding posts of the past six decades. From Cold War to Coldplay and from Ban the Bomb to Ban the Burka, every decade will be represented, and includes highlights from some of the most talked about of contributors...Bertrand Russell, Hunter S. Thompson, Roman Polanski, Roald Dahl and Limahl from Kajagoogoo, to name but a few - none of them contributed to the PMC's pages (oh, hold on a second, Limahl had a regular section in the early 80s). 1973 saw the addition of a new member to the PMC bureau. Andrew Whyte was a youth just out of hospital, who was initially set to the tasks that noone else had thought of doing, and, in the face of overwhelming criticism from the old school (Benedict Francis Kentigern in particular) stuck it out through thick and thin (mosly thick) and still tenuously holds his post today.. First posted on 11 December 1973.
 

Right. What am I going to write about, can't find anything in my book of quotations for the day to purloin. Hmm, did anyone insult me today. No. Is there a TV show I've just remembered which I can nostalgically place a youtube clip about? No, not that either. Hmm, and I'm not going to resort to sarcasm, that's just something I wouldn't ever do. Well, let's just resort to the default approach of ridiculing people in the public eye...ok, anyone notice how that Martin McGuiness from the IRA looks like a kind of bucolic Art Garfunkel? Ha ha, maybe they should cover one of their songs, not Bridge Over Troubled Water, that's for sure, Homeward Bound, for the day they get out of prison..or maybe 'semtex, mace armalite and lime' to the tune of Parsley, Sage etc. Ha ha..

Whyte went into hiding for 21 years following this post, following a threat of a 'panel beating', not from the IRA but from the rest of the PMC staff.

Ym etiruovaf Dab Srennam gnos

Yadot sah neeb etiuq a ysub yad dna os tsuj a yrev trohs tsop siht emit, tub ton na ynnufnu plic ot ynapmocca ti, ecnis s'ti yadirf gnineve...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FVIXraaqXPU

..World News Continued...

..because the globe just won't stop turning..

USA
Vandals on the outskirts of Washington DC have caused damage to two bus shelters. Glass panes which made up part of the advertising hoardings were smashed, and graffiti, some of which included obscenities, was daubed on the walls. A Washington DC police spokesman said in a statement "it defies all comprehension how people could do such a thing. These bus shelters are used all the time, and there's a school less than two miles away". (Associated Press)

Afghanistan
A 98 year old man tragically died at the weekend after choking on scampi. Ibrahim Khan had been attending a birthday party on the outskirts of Kabul when the tragedy happened. He was rushed to nearby Kabul hospital where he was declared dead at the scene. President Hamed Karzai was said to be 'saddened' by the news. (BBC).

Ireland
The building of the new Dublin bypass has caused some consternation amongst local residents. The three lane highway, which will pass around the outskirts of the city, will, some protestors say, create an eyesore and will not alleviate traffic congestion in the centre. "It's a feckin' joke" said local housewife Mhaire McCann. "We're trying to get away from the image of 'Paddy the drunken road builder' in this country and now the authorities go and do this." she blasted.
Mayor of Dublin Gerry Breen disagreed however. " I disagree with that type of thing" he said. "The new bypass will generate jobs for local businesses and will breathe much-needed new life into the outskirts of Dublin, not to mention the city as a whole, when it is finished." he continued.

Norway
Oslo schoolboy Thor Bjaaland had an unexpected trip into family history at the weekend.
Thor, 12, had been looking for some paints in the attic of his home on the outskirts of the city, when he found some of his fathers school textbooks, buried underneath a load of junk.
"I couldn't believe my eyes" he said. "I was just looking through some old boxes which didn't contain anything interesting, just a load of old newspapers and some magazines with pictures of bare ladies. But underneath, I realised that there were some really valuable old books".
The books, which had weathered the years well and were in quite good condition, seemed to be written in modern Norwegian, a germanic language spoken in Norway at the time and closely related to Danish and Swedish. The books dealt with a variety of contemporary topics including trigonometry, titration experiments, and what I did on my holiday in France.
Local experts were called in and the books were safely removed and taken to the nearby Oslo museum. "Some of the books dated back as far as 1982" said a museum spokesman. "It really is a part of living history, and Thor must be proud to see that his father did very well in maths and science, though not so well in creative writing" she continued.
Thor's father, Oskar, was completely killed in 2003 in an incident involving a threshing machine and some loose-fitting clothing.

Ghana
A 'glamorous granny' event was held at the weekend in the outskirts of Acora, all in aid of charity.
In the closely fought contest, 67 year old Joyce Akkembaye emerged the winner, and claimed the prize of restaurant tokens worth 100 Ghanaian Cedis ( a little under 50 pounds) and apron with 'glamorous granny' printed on it.
"I didn't think I would win, because some of the other grannies were very glamorous" said a delighted Joyce. "My grandchildren are very proud".
Local church of Mount Zion had a different view, however. "These people will burn for all eternity in the lake of fire" explained a spokesman. (Reuters)




..and that's all the world news for now!

Either Believe In What You're Doing Or Don't Do It

As quoted from Tallinn University's summer school's homepage, a 'Fun Fact' : "The Estonian language is a nightmare to learn"...hmmm, that sure is a lot of fun, and is going to inspire prospective students on the Estonian language courses!

In actuality, I doubt that it's any more or less of a 'nightmare' than any other foreign language, but the point is, any kind of stress engendered by that kind of mind set is likely to hinder the learning process, thus becoming a self-fulfilling prophecy. For an organization which is charging people money in order to learn Estonian to espouse such an attitude  is outrageous...

World News...continued.

As promised..


Syria
Mr. and Mrs. Jaleel of Damascus have given birth to a healthy baby boy. Little Ahmed was born just after midnight on Saturday, the proud parents were delighted to announce, weighing in at 6 and a half pounds, at the Royal Hospital on the outskirts of the city. Quipped Mrs Jaleel, 'if he eats anything like his father, that weight is set to double and double!'. Mother and baby are both doing fine.

Estonia
Temperatures soared as the long hot summer continued at the weekend, the mercury reaching record levels of some 34 degrees on the outskirts of Tallinn. Locals sunbathed, sprayed each other with water or bought ice lollies in the searing  heat. Local resident Mr. Kalev said "it's very hot. What we need is a good thunderstorm to clear the air". Tallinn borough council advised people to use high factor sunscreen whilst sunbathing, and for mothers with babies and senior citizens to stay indoors in the middle of the day.

China
The travellers' encampment on the outskirts of Shanghai, which had for some time marred local residents' lives, now appears to have moved on. It is thought that the travellers' next destination will be Beijing. "I'm just glad to see the back of them"', said housewife Mrs. Chang "they have been nothing but trouble since they arrived".  Hong Wong from the Shanghai Local Authority  stated in a press release that "we are not opposed in principle to travelling people and those with alternative ways of life, but we are seeking a compromise solution which will benefit all parties". (Reuters).

Romania
A 64 year old Belgian tourist was pickpocketed on the metro in the outskirts of Bucharest on Sunday, losing his mobile phone in the process. Mr. Pierre van Aadendorff, of Brussels, said "the last time I saw it was about twenty minutes beforehand, when I received an SMS from my daughter in Brussels saying that she had been given the all-clear following her cervical smear. The next thing I knew, it was gone."
Mr. Aadendorff reported the incident to the central police station in Bucharest; police issued a warning to tourists to 'watch out'. "I was able to contact the company to block the number and, since I have insurance, I will be able to get a new phone once I return to Belgium" continued Mr. Aadendorff. "We used my wife's phone for the rest of the holiday, so all's well that ends well. I just feel sorry that people think that they can get away with it" he said.
The Aadendorffs had been enjoying a sightseeing tour of Romania.

Algeria
Mrs. Bouhadienne's cat made a welcome return on Tuesday night, following a three day absence from his home in the outskirts of Algiers. "I'd given up all hope" she said."'I thought he must have been poisoned or fallen down a hole, because you never know these days".
The cat, whose name is Aladdin, appeared at the door late on Tuesday "somewhat bedraggled and hungry, but otherwise ok" said Mrs. Bouhadienne. When questioned if she would be letting Aladdin out again in future, she retorted "no way, not after this ordeal, he's staying under lock and key - I've already bought a litter tray!". (Associated Press).

World News...

...in brief...

Uruguay
Revellers didn't let the rain spoil the annual 'bake fest', held at the weekend at a park in the outskirts of Montevideo. The fair was opened by local celebrity Rula Lenska and raised just over thirty thousand Uruguyan Pesos (about a thousand pounds) for Help The Aged. Top prize went to Mrs. Menenzes' black forest gateau.

Somalia
125,000 Somali Shillings' (about fifty pounds) worth of gardening equipment was stolen from a lock up garage on the outskirts of Mogadishu last Thursday. Police are looking for two men.


Cambodia
The price of margarine is set to see an unpopular rise in shops in and around the outskirts of Phnom Penh. A 250g tub of margarine, previously retailing at 3,299 Riel (about 50 pence)  will cost 4,299 Riel  from Wednesday at midnight. Local housewife Vera Shivanouk described the news as 'typical'.

Ukraine
Mrs. Fillipova of Kiev had a nasty surprise when she woke up on Friday morning. Two huge 'for sale' signs had been erected outside her small wooden house on the outskirts of the city. It transpired that contractors had placed these in error - her neighbours, the Korsakovskis, had in fact put their house up for sale just the day before and the workmen had got the wrong address by accident. 'It's a simple mistake to make and there are no hard feelings since the agents immediately re-located the signs after I'd pointed it out. I'm just glad to have things ironed out and want to say that I am most definitely staying here' said Mrs. Fillipova to local newspaper the Kiev Enquirer. (Associated Press).

Canada
A wedding reception on the outskirts of Toronto on Satruday evening was marred when a fight broke out between rival groups of men. The scuffle spilled out on to the streets outside the 'Toronto Diner', and the police were eventually called. Local traders reported reduced takings. The bride was said to be 'shaken'.

..more news from around the globe tomorrow..

Thought For The Day No. 27 - With The Rabbi Anders Weiss

...psychologist, spiritual guru and arbiter of good taste..

No silly notion of playing the hero - what have creatures like us to do with heroism who are not yet barely honest?

George MacDonald

The Beatles Tours Of Estonia

Today we remember the Beatles' visits to Estonia during their touring days. Please note that this isn't part of the '60 Years of the Puumaja Crew' series of articles that seems to have died on its arse lately anyway.

February 1964, Tallinn, Estonia, and something happened that meant the whole place was never going to be exactly the same (though it remained pretty much the same) again. People switched on their TVs to be shocked by four young men who'd just touched down at the Lennujaam, with their short hair and relatively normal accents, playing music that the like of which hadn't been heard before on these shores for at least a couple of months.

Promoters were unsure about how the band would go down and so only booked them a one off show at the Estonian Drama Theatre on Pärnu Maantee, staying at the Skane hotel behind the Balti Jaam. They played just eight numbers, three of which were broadcast on ETV later that night, on the popular pop music show of the time 'üks, kaks, kolm...valmis!', hosted by a very young Ivo Linna, which still holds the record for the highest viewing figures of any Estonian TV show ( 87 million people).  Interestingly, Paul McCartney was seriously hungover on the day and can be seen just about to vomit during the closing of 'I Wanna Hold Your Hand'.

The country was hooked and the band hit the town to celebrate that evening, with manager Brian Epstein taking the boys to the Valli Baar and buying them rounds of 'millimallikas', a concoction of sambuca, tequila and tabasco sauce, which was becoming a Beatle drink even then. Indeed, the closing song  from the Sergeant Pepper's album, 'A day in the life', was inspired by the drink. Unfortunately they all got mugged on the way back from the tram to the Skane hotel, Epstein losing his wallet in the process.


The Beatles' success was such that they were invited back that August, staying at the swanky Viru Hotel this time. for the first 'christmas in the summer', with the same huge screaming crowds of girls and homosexuals waiting for them at the airport as there had come to be every place they played (except the Phillipines), playing a packed-out Lauluvaljak in spite of the rain.  The sound was that good that some of the tracks ended up on the near-mythical 'Live in Estonia' album, released on bootleg some years later before finally being officially released on the Beatles Anthology.  The tour was such a success that one Finnish man named his dog 'Rinko', for a week or two before changing it back. Another TV show appearance ('Singalong With Valdo Pant')  followed and that was it for another year.

1965, sporting their newly-awarded MBEs, the hair was a bit longer, the songs a bit better, but still the same drummer, and still the sold out Lauluvaljak with the screaming fans, introduced by Urmas Ott . They got away with charging a slightly higher ticket price (2 Kroons) than before, and a second date in Tartu was added to the itinerary at the last minute. Some of the tracks from this concert also appeared on the live bootleg album mentioned above.

1966 and a torrid year this time; a different venue, the Linnahall, which they boys didn't like, and a much poorer sound where the singing just couldn't be heard above the screams. The tour was really doomed from the start when John Lennon was reported as saying that the newly-released Revolver album was 'way better than the Kalevipoeg', provoking protests and a backlash in the media. The hotel staff at the Viru Hotel were rude and curt with the lads at breakfast, saying that since they hadn't paid for an all inclusive deal they were inelligible for the executive breakfast, which provoked a food fight ending in Ringo Starr being held in a headlock for some minutes by security staff. The concert sadly ended, amid chants of 'we want the Stones' with McCartney blasting at the audience in his scouse accent to  ' ..just foockk off, okay?'.

Popular wisdom had it that this was the last time the Beatles ever set foot on Estonian soil again (as the Beatles -in fact George Harrison came to Tallinn on a stag do in 2001). However this is not so. Intriguingly, the demos for some of the Abbey Road tracks, namely 'She's so heavy' and 'Maxwell's silver hammer', along with an unreleased track 'You bastard', which as of today remain unreleased, were recorded at an anonymous address in Nõmme. Perhaps one of the greatest chapters in the history of the second greatest band of the last 45 years or so is still waiting to be written?

Thought For The Day No. 26 - With The Rabbi Anders Weiss

...psychologist, spiritual guru and arbiter of good taste..

Whenever you're yearning for material goods and more of the best of everything, remember that ivory, pederasts and shrunken human heads have all been must-have items in different times, places and cultures..

A. Whyte - but what does he know..

Cheap Papers Give Rise To Cheap Opinions

It appears I am far from alone (I didn't suspect I was) in the one or two posts I had written viewing England and the English in not always glowing terms. It's nearly five years since I voted with my feet in leaving and it appears little changes.

A Canadian travel writer, Rory MacLean, based in Berlin looked at this in the light of the recent world cup, in this post . He does so with reference to some of the heinous tabloid headlines (these are the ones he could show you) that accompanied the team's glorious draws with a country for which 'soccer' is a kid's game, another country racked by long term internecine strife and a cruel colonial legacy, unconvincing defeat versus another country with a somewhat chequered past, with a population as he puts it of less than Greater Manchester (although since there are 11 a side in a team regardless of the pool of potentials to choose from I often find this particular argument a bit moribund) before finally crumpling as soon as they had to play against anybody any good.

So much for the problem, but what does MacLean think is a possible solution to this malaise (apart from curbing press freedoms after all, which, something tells me, he won't go for)? It's hard to say. However, I will be able to at least try to get some ideas from the source itself in a week or so - I am going on a creative writing course at Tallinn University taken by...Rory MacLean! Will post any relevant feedback...

Where Does America Fit Into All O' This? - Walt Gleeson

Canfield, Proctor, Nightingale, Zagler, Hill, Robbins, Tracy, Winfrey... step aside please..there's a new success guru in town! Walt Gleeson is a highly successful, internationally renowned author of motivational books and CDs and other products. With a career spanning over half a decade, he has enthralled readers all over the world, from Alaska to Florida and from Hawaii to Rhode Island, with such titles as You Can Do It!, You Can Do It! Too, Literally Make Your House Work For You and Become a Billionaire Whilst On The Toilet, Walt is the Puumaja Crew's personal realization and fulfilment coach, whatever that is.   Today, Walt helps us truly understand the truth behind time management and spreads a little of his South Dakota charm along the way.

Hi all - Walt here again, and it was interesting, but I was reading a very informative article the other day about the Emperor Constantine - you know, the fellow who got an arrow in his eye or something, and founded the city of St Petersburg. Then it struck me - this is all very fine, but where does America fit into all of this? Sure, Constantine lived some twelve centuries before the early settlers, but didn't they have soothsayers in those days?

Now I hear that a 12 part historical drama covering the fortunes of the Medici family in renaissance Italy is being covered, and the only part America plays in it is a brief reference to Columbuses discovery. I mean, talk about disrespect.

I was chatting with Dennis L. Johnson the other day- he's the guy that edited the black edition of my book, You Can Do It - A Black Approach (by the way there are African-American versions of all of my books available, something that the Emperor Constantine evidently overlooked when overseeing the first Council of Nicea - the racialist) and he reminded me of how great our country is - can you imagine a person of colour making it had the United States not provided them with a home and employment in the South, and later the North?

It's important to remember that the whole world is so greatly indebted to us; just take a look around you, it's almost impossible to buy American any more, since all those other folks learned from us how to make things and then started doing it themselves.

So remember, whenever somebody from outside of America is talking, just stop and ask them that one same question: "Where does American fit into all of this?" - and if the answer is, it doesn't, you can be sure that this is all evil lies which will prevent you from being successful and cause you to die on the welfare without electricity or water.

Auntie Bashing

This good article on the Economist website discusses the BBC and how the new Government in the UK seems to be putting pressure on it to change - whereas I had previously thought that was the preserve of the Blair/Brown administration.

The BBC does annoy me it has to be said: it seems to think it's the senior broadcasting service in the world (probably because it is) and has a habit I've never been able to get my head round of seemingly suddenly and unilaterally aribrtating on how, for example, place names should be rendered (yes, I remember when Beijing was Peking) which people assume must be correct 'cos, well, hey it's the BBC. Not that this really matters of course, but they could at least explain these things.

But this article puts forward the fairly convincing case that, insofar as it goes, the BBC is a good thing, its journalism is largely honest and comparatively balanced (Fox News anyone?!) and it doesn't need much in the way of tinkering with, particularly by governments.

I'd still pay a licence fee if I lived in the UK...

Thought For The Day No. 25 - With The Rabbi Anders Weiss

...psychologist, spiritual guru and arbiter of good taste..

You can have no greater sign of confirmed pride than when you think you are humble enough.

William Law

Heatwave Dancing in the Streets..

Here at the PMC we've broken a fire hydrant, stripped off almost completely and are now rioting, since the temperature has risen above the critical level of 24C.

Noone is taking the slightest bit of notice, however..A

Thought For The Day No. 24 - With The Rabbi Anders Weiss

..psychologist, spiritual guru and arbiter of good taste.

It is true that Muhammad started from the east and came to the west, as the sun travels from east to west. Nevertheless he came with war, knives, pillaging, forced enslavement, murders, and acts that are not from the good God but instigated by the chief manslayer, the devil

Gregory Palamas

I think they need a Gregory Palamas in England right now!...

60 Years Of The PMC - Finger On The Pulse Of Culture

2010 marks the 60th anniversary of the launch of the PMC. Yes, it's impossible to believe, but that's because it is impossible.

To mark this auspicious occasion the PMC will be taking a retrospective of some of the outstanding posts of the past six decades. From Cold War to Coldplay and from Ban the Bomb to Ban the Burka, every decade will be represented, and includes highlights from some of the most talked about of contributors...Bertrand Russell, Hunter S. Thompson, Roman Polanski, Roald Dahl and Limahl from Kajagoogoo,  to name but a few - none of them contributed to the PMC's pages (oh, hold on a second, Limahl had a regular section in the early 80s).

It's 1972 and a new, young film reviewer joined the PMC. Not long out of journalist school, and having been a contributor to the infamous 'Piss Off' comic, he was raring to go with some serious journalism and getting to see various films for free. Oh, his name was Wayne Shooter, for goodness sake.

First posted  30th January 1972

Went to see a great movie last night at Theatre One. It's called 'Cannibalised Day of Blood Reckoning' -  you HAVE to go and see it.

Filmed on 8mm cinemascope gives it a graniness which I can only forsee will, on its own, give it the very meaningful title of 'cult' in about 20 or 30 years time.


The maker, still in film school, assembled an excellent cast of his girlfriend, her friend, and some other friends plus one of their dad's to play the policeman, who gets massacred.

One by one, the cast members get massacred, having run out of gas in the middle of the Louisian Bayous. The bit where the guy gets his head completely smashed in is excellent - you can see his brains! Then a cannibal eats it!!

It's not at all depressing and shows just how far we've come in the field of filmmaking since such soft soapy rubbish of 'Wonderful Life', or such unrealistic, bloodless tripe such as Hitchcock's 'Rope' or bourgeoisie-pleasing offerings like 'the Godfather'  (the Studen's Union Class War rep told me to say that, just before he popped up to his parents' house near Henley on Thames).

Indeed, I feel that this new found ability accurately to present blood on-screen will lead to some vastly superior movies than what has been churned out recently, changing the face of the film industry forever.

Thought For The Day No. 23 - With The Rabbi Anders Weiss

...spiritual guru, psychologist and arbiter of good taste...

...suspicion often creates what it suspects.

CS Lewis

Doing Things The Hard Way..

An article by the inimitable Anne Applebaum (well I don't try to imitate her anyway; I can't even pronounce the hell her strange anglo-german fusion of a second name) concerning the recent spy scandal...good stuff; in short, the attitude seem to be, why bother getting freely available information from Wall Street, academics, broadsheet newspapers and journals etc when you can waste years of time and heaps of money running 'spies' to try and get the same stuff, and then f*cking up...THE COLD WAR'S OVER, GET OVER IT!!