This is important

Chatsworth Road Neighbourhood Plan from Peter Dickinson on Vimeo.

A wishlist

Anyone who wants to buy me these, feel free.

Lambo £138950
A shiny red turntable  £325
NAD T765  £1300
Villa Polo £17
Kaiser Waltzer  £5
Fledermaus £5
More music incl liebestod £12
Chase Vodka £30
anCnoc or any other single malt £30
A bunch of Amazon Stuff
A Corsair SSD £79.92
White Blinds 1x181 and 1x83 £25 & £14
Knock box £23.99
Spare Gaggia pump £25.99

Wakey wakey

So Aston Villa have just paid lots of money for a striker in his prime.  The footballing world, including not least many Villa fans, have been completely blindsided by this move.  In the mainstream media people are saying, "What, Villa?" Villa have bid £24m for Darren Bent?  VILLA? Villa buy bargains. Villa take punts on lower league players. Villa sell their best players and look for value.

The fans don't know what to make of it either: Is it too much? Should the money have been given to MON to spend? We could have bought X for that. Obviously this means we must be selling Y and Z.

Here's my take. Villa have woken up to what was missing. No fucking about with 'value for money'. No 'sounding out'. This is a very aggressive move and if there's one word that has not been associated with Villa for at least 50 years it's 'aggressive'. Not on the pitch, not in the transfer market and not in the boardroom. Villa have been too nice, to sensible for too long. Think of how it will affect the players. The expectation has finally been set that the players are there to win, and if they don't win then they have failed in their duty.

So, the impact that Darren Bent will come in the goals that he scores, but more imperceptibly on the other players that the time for talk and being nice is over; you are now playing for a team that EXPECTS you to win.

August Break

What have I done?  I've joined a thing where I have to do stuff EVERY DAY.  It's only taking one picture per day for a month, but for me that's a huge commitment.  Additionally I have no photography skills whatsoever.  Actually, not true.  I think you're not supposed to shoot into the sun.  So there you go, I do have some knowledge.

Wish me luck...

Does anyone like John Terry?

A man, a footballer, the Chelsea and England captain no less.  He is respected for his footballing and feared for his attitude on the pitch.  He is clearly a leader: the various coaches under whom he has worked have recognised this and consistently given him the captain's armband.  At Chelsea he is known, and likes to be known, as a fixer:  any problems you have, go to JT and he'll sort it.  He has the respect of his work colleagues.  A role model certainly.  A good role model?  Doubtful.

What I'm wondering here is...  Does anybody actually like him?  He comes across a man utterly without humility.  Tales in the press and from people I know who've met him in various situations lead me to feel nothing but revulsion towards him.  He parks in a disabled bay in his Bentley and when asked to move it comes out with the immortal line of, "Don't you know who I am?"  A friend walking past a nightclub in London manages to be in the right place to catch a drunken girl falling into the road, but then gets accosted by one of her party for 'trying it on'.  Terry again.  Caught by a newspaper sting selling access to Chelsea Football Club's training facilities, without the club's knowledge and against their rules.  Our role model and team captain John Terry.

And today the latest allegation, about a situation where 'a married player' had an affair with a team-mate's partner, with said team mate ending up eventually leaving the club.  I say 'a married player' because the situation is the subject of a super injunction preventing any reporting not only of the situation, but also of the existence of the injunction.  Just to clear things up, it's John Terry.  Sue me.  Please.  I have no money and own absolutely nothing.  Please sue me.  So obviously the woman in question liked him, to engage in an extra marital affair with one of the country's highest profile footballers?  You know, I'm not so sure.  Flattered by the attention from someone so powerful?  Absolutely.  Seduced by the excitement of the affair?  I suspect so, with it being John Terry that would ramp up the risk/consequences of being found out and therefore the excitement.  I really do wonder if she actually liked him though?  Now, in the cold light of day looking back I wonder how she feels about him.

So John, do you have any friends or only acquaintances?  How many of these people around you actually like you?  How many will still be with you when you're found out in public I wonder?

Gullible - adjective

I wandered in to a cafe type place a couple of weeks ago looking for some lunch. It was one of those organic places (very white and middle class) that will do "ethically sourced herb encrusted tofu, with organic chilli and lemon marinaded sunblushed peppers on organic stone ground sesame and pumpkin seeded wholemeal unbleached sourdough ciabatta" For 8 quid. Incidentally, the menu was artfully handwritten on a blackboard behind the counter in 'mood board' style, rather than in rows or any kind of order to ease readability. Nowhere did it mention the word 'sandwich'. Anyway, I looked around me at the (white middle class) clientele: they all looked like they'd stepped straight off a T-Mobile advert, the guys with their facial hair manicured to look scruffy, skinny jeans and plaid shirts, the girls with their... Need I go on? I'm sure you get the picture. Some were 'working' on their laptops with their overpriced sandwich and their skinny fucking latte next to them. Every single one of these fuckers had some kind of Apple Mac. It seems to me that these people exist to show others the meaning of gullible: they are SO easy to market to and they have more money than sense.

Disclaimer: There are many lovely, well adjusted people who own Apple Macs and use them in their work; arty types in the main, people who create loveliness all around us. If you're one of these people, please understand that I'm not talking about you. You get a big thumbs up from me. Unfortunately, for every one of you there are ten more cretins around to give you a bad name.

The hat made me do it.

Well, I guess I've always wondered how a restaurant critic would view his life. I mean, say, compared to a doctor or a conservationist, or a teacher; how can one go on from day to day pretending your life is in any way meaningful, when your job is to nitpick food preparation and presentation, in the full knowledge that half the world would be grateful for just SOMETHING to eat, anything. Yet here he is complaining that his fois gras was a little too mealy, or the mix of fresh ingredients in his compote au bollocks had slightly too much cardamom. Perhaps his Chablis was slightly too acidic. If that was me I don't think I'd wait for the revolution. I'd be hanging around on the streets of Hackney at 3am insulting the crack dealers, just to get it over with quickly. In many ways my life is pretty meaningless at the moment, but at least I do nothing at all during the day. Gill's job renders his life even more meaningless than mine: to put that much time and effort into something so steeped in hubris, so detached from reality... How does he do it and have a heart and a healthy moral compass?

Today we have our answer. He has no heart. He has no moral compass. He proudly writes about shooting a baboon, Yeah, why not? To shoot a baboon or not to shoot a baboon? Well, that's a discussion I'll leave to others. Incidentally, he thought it was because he was wearing a hunter's hat that he wanted to do it. What strikes me really though, is not his attempt to shift the blame to the milliner, but really, how far divorced from reality do you have to be to think that writing about it in your restaurant review column is a good idea? Writing, and writing proudly. He would have run it past his moral compass, but, of course, not having one he fell back on the old "Gilly knows best" routine. Why didn't he blow up a few aid trucks whilst he was at it and blame it on high jinks? Maybe order the most expensive food he could find in Africa, walk past all the slums and then pour it into the sea, all because a fuzzy wuzzy didn't show him due deference? Then he could tell us all about it in his column. Come on Gilly, that would be BRILLIANT.