Review of episode 4 series 4 of 'The IT Crowd'

Beware! Here be spoilers for episode 4 series 4 of ‘The IT Crowd’.

A theme that runs through ‘The IT Crowd’ is the extraordinary yarns that the characters spin and the lengths they go to in order to maintain their little white lies. Usually, these porkies end up blowing into huge convoluted messes with unexpected consequences.

This week’s episode is no different. Jen’s blagging has now branched out from her knowledge of I.T. to her extensive linguistic skills. Over-worked and under-appreciated, Jen convinces Douglas and her senior colleagues that she can speak Italian. Her apparent skill makes her vital to Reynholm Industries' efforts to build a relationship with Silvio Bernatelli, the most successful business man of the year. As per usual Jen lands herself in trouble but sadly her fibbing has all too predictable results which are just not as funny as they could be.

While Jen is busy blagging for her life Roy has developed an obsession with the death of his girlfriend’s parents. It’s not as grim or as dark as it sounds. His new girlfriend, Julia, explains that her family were killed in a fire at Sea Parks, a water park like Sea World. However, after recounting the tragic tale of her parents’ demise she refuses to talk about it ever again, sparking Roy’s morbid curiosity.

Roy’s quest to discover “the truth” about Julia’s parents is hilarious, particularly when he re-creates a model of Sea Parks from mash potato and gravy. Also, Roy’s excuse for a late night internet session is explained away by masturbation in order to hide the real reason he is sitting in front of his laptop in his underwear. Even though his explanation is more than credible it couldn’t be further from the truth.

One final touch of genius worth mentioning is the iPhone worship. Douglas congratulates a female colleague not on the birth of her baby but the fact that she has an iPhone. The satire shows the unnecessary sycophancy and awe that surrounds Apple’s smart phone, something which has been happening in meeting rooms across the country.

‘Italian For Beginners’ is a memorable episode more for theme parks made out of mash potato than anything else. Although Moss takes more of a back seat in this episode it is still a cracker with Roy’s storyline trumping Jen’s Italian misadventure.

It is nice to see Roy has finally found a girlfriend after his crippling heartbreak at the start of the series. Now I am waiting for the episode where Moss gets a long-term girlfriend and I still have high hopes for a Roy-Jen relationship.

Quotes that will live in infamy:

“I so think of her as Julia the orphan.” – Moss

“Maybe they’re not really dead. Maybe she doesn’t know what the word ‘orphan’ means. Maybe she just thinks it means ‘house proud’.” – Moss

“First you make me want to go to the toilet, now you make me want to be a better person.” – Douglas

“All these lies Jen, this is exactly what happened with the Iraq war.” – Moss (in comparison to Jen’s fib about speaking Italian)

“It’s not that much of a lie because I have always wanted to speak Italian and I can sound like I’m speaking Italian, so it’s more or less the same thing.” – Jen

“If she said her parents had drowned I would be the happiest man in the world.” - Roy

“But it’s an iPhone Jen. I may be able to get an iPhone without giving any money to Apple.” – Moss

How hyperlocal could resuscitate town hall debate

A stint at the local newspaper is often seen as a mere stepping stone on the path to journalistic greatness. It is a mind-numbing chore of writing endlessly about saving pet rescue centres and village fêtes, or so I thought before I embarked on a journalism course. All of this changed after I completed a module in local government for my course. Far from a being tedious trawl, the whole experience made me realise the wealth of the material sitting outside my front door.

Given the decay of local newspapers, any aspiring journalist should consider it their duty to cover their local patch. Even if an individual does not work directly for their paper or undertake work experience there, a personal hyperlocal site or blog is still a form of journalism. The contribution is still beneficial and for those looking to build up a portfolio of work and hone their craft: it is perfect.

I know my local area inside out. It is where I grew up: it is my beat. Many local newspapers are understaffed and overstretched, to the detriment of the residents. There are so many stories out there that are just not being covered. These days there is very little reporting on court cases or council meetings.

My local paper has been in a spiralling cycle of decline for some time and whenever I get the opportunity, I try to report on local news. Each time I write something I feel a little better for supporting local news. I see my work, even if it doesn’t make it into the paper, as a way of creating important information on my local area. I am supporting my paper. I can still post a blog covering a local issue and publicise it on Twitter and Facebook.

Then there is the issue of David Cameron’s proposals to put the powers of accountability back into the hands of the people. Without a strong local press to process and deliver this information to the people, how can the electorate effectively hold local authorities to account? They can’t.

These days I follow my local papers on Twitter so I get their breaking stories as they happen. I follow my local authority, local charities, hyperlocal sites, I add councillors on Facebook. I try to keep eyes and ears open as I walk down my local high street. The camera on my phone is sufficient to capture any impromptu shots. I am by no means the ideal journalist but I am endeavouring to be.

This is my rallying call to all those who want to be journalists. There is nothing stopping us. The tools and technology to publish our work is all there. All that remains is to go out there and commit acts of journalism.

Review of episode 3 series 4 of 'The IT Crowd'

Beware! Here be spoilers for episode 3 series 4 of ‘The IT Crowd’.

Roy’s bottom seems to be getting a lot of action this series. In ‘Jen the Fredo’, he got his behind smacked following a pimp-prostitute-style pep-talk. This week Roy gets his arse kissed by a masseur and not metaphorically.

After the incident Roy naturally files a sexual harassment suit and prepares to make his case in court. While Moss and Roy are busy playing law and order, it seems that Jen’s time down in the basement of Reynholm Industries is having an effect on the type of men she goes out. She ends up dating Norman, a bespectacled keyboard player in a band, who is even more socially inept than her colleagues in the I.T. department.

Jen’s relationship with Norman turns her into a wannabe rock star and makes her sing endlessly in a shrill voice that could shatter wine glasses. However, and I may be alone in thinking this, but Katherine Parkinson’s high-pitched warbling is not too bad, and in fact, “there might be something there”, as Simon Cowell sometimes says.

Then there is a small subplot involving Douglas who has discovered Space Star Ordering, founded by Beth Gaga Shaggy, a relation neither to Lady Gaga nor Shaggy. The concept involves stars representing wishes and if a person wishes really hard then they might just get what they want, or something along those lines. It's all a bit wishy-washy. It would appear this is Linehan’s knock at Scientology, and he takes aim at the shaky authoritative scientific principles and spawning information centres.

It was always going to be tough to follow up on Moss’s foray into ‘Countdown’ with something just as comically brilliant. Although ‘Something Happened’ has some great lines, it is merely an average episode when compared to ‘The Final Countdown’ which is undoubtedly the best episode of series 4. I would go so far as to say that it is a contender for the best episode ever of the ‘The IT Crowd'.

There is far less action in this instalment and the parody of Scientology could be taken much further, possibly with a slight nod to BBC Panorama journalist John Sweeney losing his cool. Despite this, it is not at all a write-off and is still funny with quirky, surreal humour.

A highlight was the courtroom scene where Roy is indicating exactly where on his posterior he was violated via a version of pin the tail on the donkey. I even learned that “the line that goes down the middle” is called the Cleftal Horizon, although after a quick Google search I am unsure as to whether it is an actual term. Also, the use of “Did you see that ludicrous display last night?” from ‘Are We Not Men?’ in series 3 fitted in perfectly. The phrase has become Moss and Roy’s filler when caught in awkward social situations involving other men and brings to mind so many embarrassing moments for the pair.

Even though ‘Something Happened’ does not hit the same heights as ‘The Final Countdown’ it has some golden nuggets.


Quotes that will live in infamy:

“You’re right, it’s not music I hate, it’s swimming.” - Moss

“Jen’s going out with a geek.” – Moss

“When did mosh pits become so unruly?” – Roy

“Did you see that ludicrous display last night?” – Roy after being sexually violated

“You’ve just got to ask yourself one thing: if you don’t take the stand, how many more unsolicited bum kisses will be administered by that lip-happy b*****d?” – Moss answering Roy’s question of whether he has to testify in court about getting a smacker planted on his behind

Review of Toy Story 3

Written in the style of Sky Movies Online.

Director: Lee Unkrich
Stars: Tom Hanks, Tim Allen, Joan Cusack, Ned Beatty, Michael Keaton
Year: 2010 Running
Time: 102 mins
Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
CERT: U

It’s been 10 years since Woody (Tom Hanks), Buzz (Tim Allen), Jesse (Joan Cusack) and the others were last played with but with Andy soon to leave for college the fate of his toys hangs in the air.

This is the third offering from the Toy Story franchise but a cash cow it is not. Unlike some Hollywood blockbusters that seek to milk off their previous success, this is the next logical step in the story. But more than that, it has a heart to it and will take audiences on a trip down memory lane.

After being described as “junk” and accidentally thrown out with the trash Andy’s dejected toys resign themselves to the box destined for day care, while Woody will be taken to college.

Upon arrival at Sunnyside day care nursery the toys are promised a life of playtime by Lots O’ Huggin’ Bear (Ned Beatty), a pink, strawberry-scented teddy.

However, the toys soon realise that the strawberries don’t smell as sweet as they first thought. Lotso has tricked them into the toddlers’ room where they literally end up in pieces and it is up to Woody to save them.

Pixar has outdone itself again as it hits all the right emotional buttons in its exploration of growing up, remaining accessible to adults and children alike.

Despite being the pioneer of CGI feature films Toy Story scripts have always been sharp without a sole reliance on graphics and this is movie is no exception.

Saying this, with the advent of high definition and 3D it is an aesthetic masterpiece and shows the developments in technology since the first film.

Toy Story 3 is a wonderful blend of comedy, drama and action that revisits a million golden childhoods, making this threequel the perfect finale to the series.

Review of Dom Joly's 'The Dark Tourist'

I will be finishing off my reviews for series 4 of 'The I.T. Crowd' once I have handed in my dissertation however, in the mean time I have written a review for 'The Dark Tourist' by Dom Joly. Here it is for your reading pleasure...

Whilst most travel writers would baulk at the thought of holidaying in the ‘Killing Fields’ of Cambodia or the exclusion zone around Chernobyl, comedian Dom Joly readily takes up the mantle of the morbidly fascinated in ‘The Dark Tourist’.

Better known for his antics on ‘Trigger Happy TV’ dressed as a giant squirrel or shouting into a giant mobile phone, Joly’s adventures are a clever mixture of macabre history and witty observations that weave in his own experiences of growing up in war-torn Lebanon.

The title refers to ‘dark tourism’ which involves travelling to destinations associated with death or suffering, and there is no shortage of assassinations and torture here. Each trip offers an insightful snapshot of places which are only glimpsed in news reports. During his visits to the ‘Axis of evil’ that are Iran and North Korea, Joly discovers how people live under these oppressed regimes and whether his preconceptions hold true.

At points his accounts prove to be surprisingly moving, particularly during one surreal episode where he is offered Pol Pot’s shoes for a half million dollars only to realise that the vendor is a war criminal.

There are of course the cultural gaffes when Joly decides to play the bumbling outsider who evades the local authorities, so as to lighten the mood, but really he is questioning his own desire to venture into these places of pain and misery.

Compared to the abundance of light travel literature littering the shelves of bookshops ‘The Dark Tourist’ is a refreshing antidote that delves into the complexities of the human psyche and explores our own heart of darkness.

Review of episode 2 series 4 of 'The IT Crowd'

Beware! Here be spoilers for episode 2 series 4 of ‘The IT Crowd’.

If episode 1 paid homage to RPG enthusiasts then ‘The Final Countdown’ (episode 2) was a tribute to ‘Countdown’ fans everywhere.

This was Moss’s episode and audiences saw him manage to make it onto ‘Countdown’. As you would expect, he was a natural and never came up with less than an eight-letter word.

Meanwhile Jen was trying to get into the mysterious heads of departments’ meetings and Roy was attempting to convince an old school friend that he wasn’t a window cleaner.

Yet it was all about Moss’s foray into ‘Countdown’ which led the episode. It was surreal in the best way possible and brought to our screens the phenomenon of Street’ Countdown’. (It’s basically like ‘Countdown’ but played outside and with more letters. It can get cold.)

With writer-director Graham Linehan it’s all about the finer details and this instalment was no exception. The group singing the countdown clock music was simply an act of genius. There was also a portrait of His holiness, the late Richard Whiteley, complete with angel wings and bathed in a saintly glow that made me laugh.

Saying this, I was slightly miffed as to why Negative One (David Crow), Moss’s ‘Countdown’ rival, appeared to be speaking in street slang. He was using ungrammatical sentences rounded off with an obligatory “you get me”. My only theory for this is that Linehan was looking to avoid the cliché of a geek-off and this deviance from convention proved comically refreshing.

Then there is Moss’s sex appeal which sounds like a paradox but not in the world of ‘Countdown’.

In the ‘normal’ world Moss's experience of the fairer sex doesn’t extend beyond his mother. He is like Norman Bates but with computers instead of stuffed birds and shower killings.

However, give him a red beret and a glass of milk, and Moss is sex on legs. This week he’s sleeping around with ‘Countdown’ groupies who are “the most sexually voracious and the most beautiful of groupies”.

I think Moss is the heart of the show. Richard Ayoade manages to exude all his innocence and geekery to fantastic effect. Moreover, there is something about the character’s British reserve that makes Moss’s awkwardness plausible which unfortunately didn’t work so well in the U.S. version.

On a final note, I loved the references to ‘The Matrix’ and ‘Fight Club’ because of the cult status they have as well as familiarity in popular culture, which will satisfy nerds and non-nerds alike.


Quotes that will live in infamy:

“I just totally want to re-invent myself. From this moment on everything is going to be different.” PHONE RINGS “Hello I.T., have you tried turning it off and on again?” – Roy

“Good morning, that’s a nice TNETENNBA.” - Moss
‎
"This is London, Jen. It's not someone with cake unless that cake is made of dog poo and knives." - Moss from 'The IT Crowd' explaining why he doesn't open the door.

“If you call that mindless, animalistic rutting ‘sex’, then yes…I suppose we did.” - Moss (answering Roy's question of whether he has slept with a groupie.)

“I came here to drink milk and kick ass and I’ve just finished my milk.” – Moss

Review of episode 1 series 4 of 'The IT Crowd'

This post is about three weeks late due to academic commitments but here is my review of episode 1, series 4 of ‘The IT Crowd’.

After the third series I did worry whether the show had run its course but episode 1 soon put those thoughts to bed.

This instalment revolved around Jen (Katherine Parkinson) becoming Reynholm Industries’ resident pimp to visiting businessmen. But it was also about Roy (Chris O'Dowd) dealing with heartbreak and Moss (Richard Ayaode) helping his friend via a 20-sided dice and the medium of RPG (role-playing games for the uninitiated).

For the first time the audience was shown Roy’s sensitive side. He could barely make it through a sentence without breaking down which was hilarious to watch probably because it cut close to the bone.

As a recent casualty of heartache myself, I was welling up during the “goodbye” scene between Roy and Moss as Queen Eliza Eldridge of the Elves. I found it genuinely touching and was slightly frustrated by the canned laughter. Saying this, the scene worked well because of the swings between comedy and tragedy and I did find myself caught on a see-saw of laughter and tears.

I think O’Dowd’s performance in that scene just goes to shows his versatility as an actor and it is probably the best audition for any straight roles he may want to pursue in the future.

The idea that Jen is a pimp was used cleverly during her pep talk with Roy. The key is in the reversal of the gender roles. Roy is vulnerable while Jen is the one with the power. The scene was played out brilliantly by Parkinson who flits between affection and aggression: it is all wonderfully sinister. One moment she is whispering to him and in the next she is grabbing his face, and in another she is stroking his head before sending him to face the Johns.

Keeping on the subject of role-playing, the innuendo surrounding RPG was another good touch. In my mind it reinforced the notion that ‘The IT Crowd’ is a tribute to nerds everywhere and that geek is chic.

I have no doubt that following this episode there will be a resurgence of popularity in ‘Dungeons and Dragons’ and RPG, the likes of which hasn’t been since ‘The Lord of the Rings’.

After watching ‘Jen the Fredo’ I have high hopes for the rest of series 4. It appears that the characters have developed and will continue to do so. Moss and Roy in particular have moved away from the stereotypical anti-socialites we first met. All in all, a great start to series 4.

On a side note, was it just me or did John 2 (Ed Weeks) look suspiciously like Steve Mangan from ‘Green Wing’? I had to do a double take just to make sure it wasn’t him.

Quotes that will live in infamy:

“It’s like someone broke up with Stalin” – Moss referring Roy photo-shopping his ex-girlfriend out of his pictures of them. The photos end up looking like Roy is by himself.

“Oh shut up Dumpo, the elephant that got dumped!” - Moss

“Eiffel Tower!” – Phil, John 1, John 2

“Goodbye.” – Moss as Queen Eliza Eldridge of the Elves

“No...there were rumours that there was a rumour but that was bull****.” – Douglas Reynholm

Haunted by "coconuts"

This week I heard a racist term that hadn’t violated my ears for a very long time.

It was the word “coconut” and it was used by Lib Dem councillor Shirley Brown to criticise her Conservative counterpart Jay Jethwa during a debate at Bristol City Council.

Last February Cllr Jethwa proposed cuts of £750,000 to funding for the city’s Legacy Commission which seeks to educate people about the history of slave trade. The derogatory remark was made by Cllr Brown in her response to the plans.

The story has re-surfaced because Cllr Brown is planning to appeal after she was convicted of racial harassment this week.

Despite my personal opposition to the cuts, Cllr Jethwa is simply doing what Conservatives do. There is nothing unusual or shocking about her suggestion given her political stance.

The term “coconut” refers to a person who has lost their culture and to put it crassly is brown on the outside and white on the inside.

It is generally used between those of the same race so Cllr Brown as an Afro-Caribbean insulting an Indian has caused confusion in some quarters.

I was also a recipient of this racist slight at secondary school. The snide little comment was as precise and as painful as a paper cut.

I had never heard it before but the crudity of the imagery left me in no doubt to its meaning and I felt inexplicably ashamed.

It is said that by naming something you can control it. In that moment my fragile teenage identity was stripped away and I was re-defined.

I will always wonder what my persecutor’s definition of “white” was. What was the reason that I wasn’t a true Asian?

Was it the fact that I was a second generation Bengali girl who spoke an (albeit) flawed version of her parents’ mother tongue? Or maybe it was because I went to Durga puja and Kali puja every year instead of celebrating Diwali. Or possibly it was because I never judged others by the colour of their skin but by the content of their character.

The word is a slur upon “being white”. I don’t understand what the social construct of “whiteness” is based on. How do you define a whole race? Like all racism it seems to be born out of ignorance.

As to Cllr Brown’s statement, yes a conviction may have been too harsh but it was racial harassment.

I am just glad to see that this remark has evoked a strong response because it is unacceptable to use such racist words.

This sort of name-calling is not the language of politics and has no place at the debating table.

Review of 'Secret Diary of a Call Girl' - Series 3

Another piece of coursework, this time written in the style of The Times 2. I didn't pitch this one.

Secret Diary of a Call Girl – ITV2 (one star out of five)

Last night’s finale of series 3 for Secret Diary of a Call Girl brought an end to what has been a dismal run for everyone’s favourite escort.

The episode revolved around the wedding of fellow working girl Bambi (Ashley Madekwe) and Belle’s (Billie Piper) discovery that her perfect publisher-boyfriend, Duncan (James D’Arcy) has been seeing other women.

Yet any attempt to expose Belle’s vulnerability fell short as her heartbreak was fleeting and she was soon jetting off to see her next client.

In fact, as series 3 has progressed both the plot and characters have remained static and it has been a tedious repetition of the same motions.

Belle is still as narcissistic as ever and oblivious to anything beyond the next appointment. While Ben (Iddo Goldberg), Belle’s ex-boyfriend and best friend, has become all the more frustrated and lovelorn as his unrequited feelings linger on.

He spends most of the series apologising for drunkenly insulting her new beau. Then there is doe-eyed Bambi whose naivety is matched by her equally clueless and eccentric aristocratic fiancé Byron (David Dawson).

The only new element on the latest outing with Belle is the relationship with her publisher but even this seems stale given her previous attempts to find love which have proved to be disastrous.

At the end of the last series Belle’s book was published anonymously and for the follow-up novel Duncan pushes her to seek out clients with all manner of kinks. But apart from some Sploshing (sex involving food), role play and a bit of cross-dressing thrown in for good measure only the most superficial of glances is given to sexual fetishes.

Unlike its predecessors, series 3 fails to delve further into the little-known world of high-class prostitution instead much of the charm and intrigue have been replaced with soap opera storylines.

Fundraising can improve your life and career prospects

A piece I wrote as part of coursework earlier this year. It's written in the style of 'Take A Break' magazine. Unfortunately, they decided they didn't want to publish it. Maybe next time.

There are hundreds of people across the country who go that extra mile for charity. You probably know some who’s training for a sponsored run, bike ride or walk. It might be a friend, a colleague, your sister or even your mum. They are ordinary folk who really want to make a difference and their small contributions make a big difference to others. But did you know that fundraising can also be good for your career and general wellbeing?

Managing Director of recruitment consultants Office Angels, David Clubb, says: ‘Being involved in fundraising is a great way of raising your awareness of social responsibility – something which many businesses take very seriously.’

‘It’s important to remember that being involved in fundraising work goes much further than standing outside shops with a coin collector. Being involved in fundraising work is often a real eye-opener for many people.’

‘For those currently between jobs fundraising work is great way to gain experience in a number of sectors and job roles. It also shows future employers that you are proactive and keen to be working and assisting others.’

Fundraising can not only boost your career prospects, it can also be a source of personal growth. Life Coach Carole Ann Rice has worked with individuals from all walks of life and says: ‘Helping other people either through fundraising or working in a voluntary capacity removes you from your problems and your world. It’s almost like a natural Prozac to help other people.’

‘At least if you’re doing something like raising money for a good cause you feel you have achieved something and I think there’s a great deal of personal satisfaction and confidence and self-esteem that can be raised through that sense of achievement on behalf of other people.’

She adds: ‘I think it certainly ups your chances of having a sense of focus, satisfaction and fulfilment in your life.’

Daniel Barnes, 31, of Brockley, Southeast London is running 500 miles this year for Josie’s Dragonfly. The charity gives cash donations to children with cancer not considered curable. Josie Madeline Grove was Daniel’s cousin who died from leukaemia in 2007. Daniel has just broken the 100 mile mark and is still going.

‘Last year I lost my job and spent a month or so sitting around the house feeling glum and eating cakes.’

‘Over Christmas, the idea of running 500 miles over the year came to me as a way of motivating me to get out. I am not very athletic, so I thought I would try something difficult. The other side is that it is a good excuse to raise money for a good cause.’

‘Running 500 miles was on my CV and I was asked and talked about it in a couple of interviews.’

‘I think it did add something unique to the CV, which probably helped a little.
For all the interviews I had, I always checked where I might run, or if I could run home.’

‘Knowing I have done this for charity is a bonus. I try to act nonchalant about it, that I was running anyway so it made sense to just raise money too, but in fact it does make me proud that I can make a difference. Maybe I'll aim for 1000 km in 2011.’

Lindsay Topham, 24, from Twickenham, Southwest London, is another fundraising superhero. She is gearing up for the London Marathon in April to raise money for Oxfam.

Lindsay says: ‘They’re just a charity that I really believe in and believe in the work that they do. I find them quite effective as a charity. I was really keen to run the London Marathon anyway so when Oxfam had some places it felt like it was the right thing to do.’

‘I wrote to Oxfam and said I would really like to do a charity place and they rung me and asked a few questions and then gave me a place.’

‘I think it’s important to push yourself and challenge yourself. It’s the nerves and having to promote yourself. And it’s all about personal growth.’

‘You sign up to something like the marathon because it’s only you that can get through it. You are the only competition.’

She adds: ‘It’s a real sense of achievement to know that you’ve put your body through all that and it’s not just that one day, it’s the nine months leading up to it. I’m looking forward to the whole day: the excitement, the getting there.’

“I think in a year or so after running the marathon I would like to climb Mount Kilimanjaro or some sort of mountain.”
JustGiving is a website which helps people who want raise money for charity. More information can be found at: www.justgiving.com

Re-evaluating pensions

The link between the BP oil spill and British pension funds has got me thinking that maybe it’s time to reflect on where our retirement funds come from, and whether we should look at re-investing.

A couple of years ago I wrote a story about Aberdeen Asset Management launching a series of socially responsible investing funds in the Netherlands.

SRI funds, as the name suggests, look to make returns through investing ethically or socially consciously.

For example, they would not be invested in munitions factories or companies with poor human rights records. Instead they focus on areas such as green energy and social justice.

I was told that SRI funds had gained popularity in the Netherlands following a documentary entitled ‘The Clusterbomb Feeling’, which aired in March 2007.

The programme revealed that several Dutch pension funds had been investing in cluster bombs, land mines and companies that were guilty of child labour.

The revelations shocked the Dutch public and put pressure on pension funds to re-assess their investments.

I think perhaps Britain needs to have its own cluster bomb moment. Most people do not know where their retirement money is coming from and if they did, then they maybe put off from following a specific plan.

Also, as this environmental disaster unfolds and BP faces increasing pressure to halt dividend payments to shareholders, it now seems like the right time to look to greener companies.

British pensions are heavily invested in BP which poses a problem for people if dividend payments are frozen because they will not receive retirement contributions from the company.

If dividends are stopped, it could have a detrimental effect on individuals getting ready to retire amid concerns of a double dip recession and tax rises.

Add to this the fear of oil running out and fossil fuels in short supply, makes the step towards SRI seem more logical.

Retirement funds are about the long term, stable investments rather than the short term therefore, it would make more sense to invest in sustainable sectors.

However, oil, gas and other such industries make massive returns therefore, it is unlikely that retirement funds will stop investing in them anytime soon.

But the question is: what will it take for pension funds to change their ways? And will it require a spill bigger than BP for us to look at where our retirement is coming from?

Harrow Observer Article

TWO charities have raised around £5,000 from a quiz hosted by Matt Lucas from ‘Little Britain’.

Harrow hospital radio station, Radio Northwick Park and the Alan Senitt Memorial Trust joined forces to organise the fundraiser held two weeks ago.

Proceeds from the event were made through tickets sales, a raffle and an auction with a framed ‘Alice in Wonderland’ film poster signed by Matt Lucas up for grabs. The total amount will be split equally between the two trusts.

Half will go towards the £25,000 studio refurbishment for Radio Northwick Park and the other half will go on the £150,000 Alan Senitt Hillel Student Centre.

Comedian Matt Lucas who is also a patron of the Alan Senitt Memorial Trust said: “I grew up in Stanmore so Northwick Park is a hospital I have visited relatives in, so it’s a hospital I know. So it’s nice to be able to help these two charities.”

He added: “It’s really nice in these difficult times that people are still able to come and support charities and so we’re really heartened by the fact that over 300 people turned up.”

Chairperson of the Alan Senitt Memorial Trust, Emma Senitt said: “The event has gone really well and been very successful.

The quiz consisted of 10 rounds with general knowledge questions on food and drink, currents affairs, and film and television.

There were 30 teams made up of 10 people on each. The wining team was Quiz Team Aguilera who won a trophy.

One of the members of the winning team and Radio Northwick Park volunteer, Malcolm Clarke, 54, Warden Avenue, Rayners Lane said: “We won because the team really gelled together to account of our strengths and weaknesses.”

Radio Northwick Park provides entertainment for patients at Northwick Park Hospital, Watford Road. The Alan Senitt Memorial Trust promotes interfaith dialogue and the education of Israel.

Matt Lucas and the ethical dilemma

As an aspiring journalist I am learning to manoeuvre through the minefield that can be interviews.

One should never let their emotions or personal feelings get in the way of an interview.

Although Adam Boulton showed that this is not always possible earlier this week in his live cat fight with Alistair Campbell.

As part of a piece that was rejected by my local paper I recently interviewed Matt Lucas of ‘Little Britain’ fame.

The interview was minimal to the story which was about a charity fundraiser organised by two community-based charities near me.

Matt was hosting the event and I wanted to get a couple of quotes about the evening.

Before the event I had mentioned to a lecturer that I was trying to interview Matt. It was suggested that I should try to find out his thoughts about the loss of his ex-husband, Kevin McGee back in October last year.

If I did so, I might have an exclusive on my hands that could set me on the path to tabloid stardom and beyond.

But when it came down to it would I be able to summon up a Paxman-like aura?

On the evening I flagged Matt down. He told me to “walk with him” in ‘West Wing’ style as he nipped out during the interval for a moment’s respite.

I followed him eagerly: unwittingly looking more puppy dog than news hound. I wasn’t fazed by the fame I just wanted to make sure I didn’t miss a thing.

I asked him the typical questions: Why he had decided to take part? How he was finding the evening? How long he had been involved with the charity?

Despite keeping my dictaphone steady, at the forefront of my mind was the encyclopaedic knowledge of his personal life.

Most of us retain our right to grieve in private but here was someone who had very publicly lost his partner.

It’s funny how the paparazzi descend like flies at the first scent of a dead body. Yet when my moment came to rip off the mourning veil, I just couldn’t do it.

He was calm and softly spoken: a complete contrast to the loud, rude, energetic personas of George Doors or Vicky Pollard.

Our interview was over in a matter of minutes and I left. I would never have asked him about how he felt. Yet there was a part of me, the human instinct that sought to comfort him.

In the end I managed to muster a “take care”, trying to exert my sympathy through pursed lips which I forced into a smile and lingering eye contact. I wonder if my expression translated.

I suppose this was my lesson in impartiality.

The limited roles of Asian actors

Everybody was talking about it or so the adverts would have you believe. It was supposedly “the best episode in the history of the series” according to one avid viewer. It even made a feature on BBC Breakfast.

I am referring to ‘Eastenders’, in particular the episode where devout Muslim, Syed Masood’s (Marc Elliott) gay relationship with Christian Clarke (John Partridge) is revealed.

It’s mostly a shock to Syed’s wife Amira (Preeya Kalidas) and Amira’s father Qadim Shah (Ramon Tikaram) who promptly beats his son-in-law several shades of blue.

However, the biggest surprise for me was seeing Ferdy (Tikaram) from ‘This Life’; Monica (Kalidas) (aka girl no.1# that gets called a slut) in ‘Bend it like Beckham’; the deplorable Mr. Kholi (Nitin Ganatra) from ‘Bride and Prejudice’; and Nina Wadia from ‘Goodness Gracious Me”. I felt like I was playing a game of “Where have I seen them before?”

There may be more Asian roles in film and television than ten years ago but only a stock set of Asian actors are getting them.

If you want a generic Asian guy why not call in Jimi Mistry? For the strict auntie Meera Syal is perfect, or for some light comic relief there is always Sanjeev Bhaskar.

All these actors are fantastically talented but surely their appearance in British entertainment would have opened up the door to other young hopefuls? Apparently not.

But it is not their fault instead it is the limited vision with which roles are cast. Why can’t an Asian person be a goth or a drug dealer or a footballer or even a prostitute? There is no logical reason, it may be more unusual but not impossible.

Unfortunately, all these roles are falling foul of racial bias. Asians are doctors, corner shop owners, terrorists or caught in arranged marriages which explains why I suffer from déjà vu whenever I watch any Anglo-Asian productions. I had one such case while watching “It’s a Wonderful Afterlife”.

I have clearly overestimated the Asian revolution in the British media. I was so hopeful that “Goodness Gracious Me” and “Bend it like Beckham” would signal the beginning of a new era for Asians on television and film but it just hasn’t happened.

The so-called “Goodness Gracious Me” trickle down effect which was believed to increase Asian prominence in British media has dried up.

It doesn’t help the BBC Asian Network is shutting up shop. Not even “Slumdog Millionaire” has really helped the cause but then again it was always more the offspring of India than Britain.

All I can say is that I hope to one day see an Asian actor as the lead in an action film or a romantic comedy or a horror flick which has nothing to do with their ethnicity. For now, if you want a suicide bomber then Riz Ahmed is your man.

The interview from Hell - Part 2

The last part of the elimination process was a face-off with one of the lecturers.

Armed with my portfolio of cuttings I was all set to impress the hierarchy of journalism academia with my experience and knowledge.

Instead it was the final nail in the coffin for any chance of getting on to the course.

I was asked who my favourite newspaper journalists were. A plethora of television correspondents flooded my mind but any broadsheet reporters had temporarily left the internal newsroom.

I was probably expected to say Woodward or Bernstein or maybe even David Leigh or Nick Davies or Truman Capote.

I managed to stumble out: “Erm…Charlie Brooker…Hadley Freeman…”

I had Catherine Townsend (ex-sex columnist for the Independent) on the tip of my tongue but I held back.

I could hear the gates to the journalist’s Mecca slamming shut as I uttered those two names.

But it just got worse. My experience was picked apart. Student journalism didn’t “count” as experience.

Clearly, my three years of writing, editing, proofreading, commissioning articles, laying out pages using InDesign, liaising with PR companies, attending film screenings and interviewing people all counted for nothing.

My explanation for how I managed to get five months experience on a regional magazine* through sheer initiative was rewarded with a sceptical, glassy-eyed look.

Despite the magazine being published by an upmarket newspaper it appears my two days of flicking through the newspaper itself were prized more highly.

Nor did it matter that I was working as a news aggregator at a financial newswire at the time.

My job entailed finding existing stories which I summarised for readers in a daily news round up. But I wanted to report and break news instead of re-hashing copy.

(During the introductory talk I was told that graduates from the course went on to work at the company I was then employed at. I did mention this to the eliminator but it was of no consequence.)

To add further insult to injury, I was smacked with a wave of condescension when I told that I was “very enthusiastic” and that maybe I should apply for the magazine journalism course.

In my head I yelled “but I want to be a newspaper reporter”. I wonder if my face betrayed my seething frustration.

The battle was soon over and the lecturer had vetted out another wannabe. You are the Weakest Link, good bye.

As I left the interview room and collected my things for the journey home I felt incredibly hollow.

All hope of getting into journalism seemed to be extinguished.

I realised then that I may have to take the most obstacle-ridden path to reach my destination. Maybe that’s what makes the satisfaction of reaching a goal all the more sweet.


*I had ended up on the editorial team of the magazine while initially carrying out two weeks work experience at a national newspaper.

The first two days at the national I was sat at a desk and advised to read the paper. I was gruffly rebuffed when I asked a reporter if I could attend a press conference with them.

It was only after pestering my minders that I was elevated to the fifth floor to work on an under-staffed, under-funded magazine set for re-launch at the end of the week.

I spent the three months of my summer holidays from university there and a further two months after I finished my degree. It was the best experience I ever had. That was my summer of education and where I made life-long friends.

The interview from Hell - Part 1

I was told that it would last a whole day and that lunch would be provided. Little did I know what I had let myself in for.

I had been invited to an interview for a coveted place on the newspaper course of an institution considered to be journalism’s equivalent of Oxbridge.

A place on this course can lead to a job at the Guardian or the BBC.

Its name on your CV is like a password into the journalists' brotherhood and you will be welcomed in with open arms. I am sure they even have secret handshake.

The interview was like a one-day reporting boot camp: only the fittest would survive and the rest would have their dreams trounced under foot.

Following an introductory talk they thrust us onto the streets to test our nous for news.

We had to find and write up a story. Our deadline was the end of the day. It was then that I wished I had worn flats.

I was suspiciously scanning around for fellow recruits who might poach a potential story when I came across two women tidying up what seemed to be a unfinished adventure playground.

I had found my story. It turns out they were working on a new recreation zone for disadvantaged kids in the area.

I wrote down the Who, What, Where, Why, When and How (okay, maybe I wasn’t quite at that stage just yet but I answered most of them) and some other details before returning to base camp.

After lunch came the current affairs test. I managed to answer the one about the Daily Express apologising for suggesting friends of Gerry and Kate McCann may have misled authorities who were investigating the disappearance of their daughter Madeleine McCann.

I was also given a list of names and asked to write down which newspapers they edited.

Thanks to Wikpedia I can now say:

Alan Rusbridger – The Guardian
John Mulholland – The Observer
Roger Alton – The Independent
John Mullin – The Independent on Sunday
Will Lewis – The Daily Telegraph
Ian MacGregor – The Sunday Telegraph
Lionel Barber – The FT
James Harding – The Times
John Witherow – The Sunday Times
Peter Hill – Daily Express
Martin Townsend – Sunday Express
Paul Dacre – Daily Mail
Peter Wright - Mail on Sunday
Dominic Mohan – The Sun
Richard Wallace – Daily Mirror
Richard Wallace – Sunday Mirror
Dawn Neesom – Daily Star
Pam McVitie – Daily Sport
Bill Benfield – The Morning Star
Lloyd Embley – The People
Nick Appleyard – Sunday Sport
Colin Myler – News of the World

Intrepid video reporter extraordinaire

This week I have been running around campus with a video camera strapped to my hand as I attempt to be a television reporter.

The good news is that I have finally found an idea for my three-minute package. The bad news is that I have as much technological wizardry as a potato.

That may be a slight exaggeration but my prowess with a video camera leaves a lot to be desired.

My more technologically-advanced friend showed me how to extend the legs on the tripod otherwise I would have been hoisting it up above my head with camera on top trying to get a better angle.

I have also discovered that there is a certain skill to being able to assemble the tripod and camera fixed on top at a moment’s notice.

I have as yet to be able to do this either gracefully or inconspicuously. On the plus side I haven’t accidentally whacked anyone with it.

Once I learnt where the on/off and record/stop buttons were I began my journey as an intrepid reporter extraordinaire.

My brilliant idea was to report on One World Week which is a week-long series of events to enhance multiculturalism.

Since Brunel University has around 120 different nationalities with sixty per cent of students being an ethnic minority I had myself covered for camera fodder.

With tripod legs akimbo and electrical eye open I captured footage of a literature event, international food and some Sikh martial arts.

Not bad for a last minute idea that only really came together on Tuesday.

The fun bit is trying to figure out how to edit it all together. I am slowly getting to grips with Final Cut Pro after having another session on it the other day.

I have another two video assignments to complete so I think I may need to go out and do some more filming.

By the end of this term I will submit: a three-minute video/audio/online package; a news story via one of those mediums; and three vox pops totalling 45 seconds also using one of the three media options on offer.

I have decided to use video as my medium of choice for each assignment. Hopefully, I will be able to master it. I shall monitor my progress and report back the results: disastrous or otherwise.

I may be no Michael Moore but I will give it my best shot (no pun intended).

I'll cry you a river

We all cry now and again don’t we? I mean, everybody has a little cry sometimes, right? But I think you can end up crying too much, or at least I do.

After getting my heart broken in the first year of university I proceeded to spend the next two years bawling my eyes out.

I would go to sleep with a face wet with tears and wake up puffy-eyed with a blocked nose. After realising I was still alive I would start wailing again.

I’ve got over that part of my life. But as a lingering consequence of those depressing days I seem to blub at the slightest thing either happy or sad.

Before first year it would take me a lot to shed a tear. I would have to either be incredibly emotionally distressed or in severe pain.

Now though the slightest thing can set me off. It’s ridiculous.

I will be watching the advert for Channel 4’s Secret Millionaire and I start sniffing at the kindness of humanity. It’s difficult to even sit through an episode without a packet of tissues.

I cried when a guy and a girl get back together. She walked out on him after getting fed up of his constant lateness but then he sends her text and they fall back in love. This was a 40 second advert for Blackberry. It’s pathetic.

While watching another Channel 4 favourite How To Look Good Naked, I get horribly emotional.

It’s at the bit where the person sees themselves in the mirror post-make over and realises that they were always beautiful. I weep along with them during their moment of self-discovery.

I also mourn with them in the pre-make over mirror sequence when they are stripped down to their underwear. I can feel their low self-esteem.

Saying this, I would probably cry if I had to display my unclothed body on national television.

My mum says that you become more empathetic after you have kids. I am still a childless twenty-something so I don’t know where all this crying has come from. Maybe it’s the years of crying I denied myself. Who knows.

I dread to think what sort of state I will be in when I do eventually become a mother.

I will probably be dabbing my eyes with baby wipes while changing my offspring’s nappies. Or I will have a roll of kitchen towel in one hand, to mop my tear-streaked cheeks, while feeding my gurgling tot carrot puree with the other.

Work experience

Day 3 in the humble life of a workie at the Harrow Observer and I had my first unpleasant experience.

I answered the phone to an enraged woman who became further infuriated as soon as I uttered the words “work experience”.

She lambasted me for not being a proper journalist because I wasn’t part of the National Union of Journalists. (I just haven’t got around to it yet.)

Clearly, in her world if you don’t belong to the NUJ then you’re not actually a journalist.

She then grilled me on why the NUJ didn’t train reporters properly and how people like us were allowed to man the phones.

She was about to say something about media law to which I could have responded curtly with the fact that I do have Part 1 which the NCTJ not the NUJ requires. But I thought it was best to leave it.

I swiftly passed her over to a real journalist who got an interrogation about whether his shorthand was up to scratch.

There was also something about the NUJ needing to train reporters in the Mental Health Act and unfair dismissal. (We do learn about the latter.)

When the reporter I had foisted her onto realised that she was on a pay phone, he kept her talking until the change ran out and the phone cut off.

I might hasten to add that the woman was calling to air her grievances about being illegally sectioned in a mental hospital.

So that is just another day in the life of a workie. I hate saying that I am on work experience because of the connotations that go with it.

As soon as I say that I’m on work experience I can feel the warmth fade from the voice on the other end of the line.

Suddenly, they are ten thousand levels above you and you are just amoeba to them: a barely sentient being with the IQ of minus one.

They assume you are incompetent, a liability. With PR people their schmoozy and sycophantic veneer cracks and the cynical flak emerges.

Today’s incident was mildly amusing to say the least. She was a little less rude than the agent of a now Q-list celebrity who used to host an adventure game show in the nineties. The agent’s charisma might also be the reason why this celebrity has faded into obscurity.

It’s taken a while but I’ve learnt not to take it personally. As my friend from the Indy said yesterday, you need a thick skin to survive in this industry…and a hard nose as I was told by someone before being jabbed on the nose.

A decade under the journalistic influence

Ten years later and I am back at the place I first started.

I am doing a week’s work experience at the Harrow Observer but due to the shrinking budgets of local newspapers, the paper has relocated to Uxbridge.

I trudge up the two flights of stairs my 15-year-old self did a decade earlier with a strange and knowing sense of déjà vu. I am going over old ground and it all feels slightly depressing.

I remember the excitement of my teenage self. My first break into the exciting world of journalism: in a news room and learning the ropes from the hacks themselves.

I have gone so far and yet ended back up at the same place. I feel wiser than before in the years that have passed but simultaneously like I haven’t moved at all.

Maybe I shouldn’t have gone back but I need 10 days of work experience to meet the course criteria. If I get the placement I will take it.

I have already had three days over Christmas where I worked remotely from home while the snow fell silently outside.

But now here I am, physically present. Nothing seems to have changed except that there are far fewer people and the news room has become the territory of the sales staff.

The reporters have been relegated to a section near the training room. The carpet it still the same shade of faded brown, like a tea stain that refuses to leave.

There are people the same age as me who are fully-fledged reporters and there I am. I feel a childish helplessness.

It feels like all those times when I was a teenager in room full of twenty-somethings desperately trying to attain a sense of self-worth and validation, that I had a right to be there.

There are times when I have to hold my tongue in case I come across as arrogant or ungrateful or just plain rude.

I want to convey intelligence with all my years of knowledge and experience but it doesn’t seem to translate.

Then again what have I really learnt since the last time I was here?

I used to think I wanted to be a reporter on a local rag but I seem to be making the simplest mistakes.

My terrible habit of needing to call a person back repeatedly still follows me around like a piece of chewing gum stuck on the bottom of my shoe.

Sometimes I wonder what I am doing wrong, why I haven’t made it yet. Sometimes I wonder if I am cut out for all of this but then I remind myself that I love it.

I love the interaction with people, the thrill of chasing a story and the careful construction of words. It is the satisfaction of seeing the words I have written: black upon white. My name printed on the page.

Perhaps tomorrow will be better and I will have had time to reflect upon my mistakes.

Creative thinking: there is no box

My final lesson of the week was about how to think creatively when coming up with feature ideas.

Along with the three-minute video project, I have to write a human-interest feature due at the beginning of March. It is one of the seven projects that will partly induce my foreseeable nervous breakdown. It’s inevitable given the amount of pressure and lack of time I feel I have to do the best job I can.

To help the class think outside the box our incredibly sweet and endearingly geeky lecturer talked us through several different creative thought processes.

It all started with how many different uses we could think up for a paperclip. From our lists, there are more than a couple of things this small piece of stationery is useful for (apart from holding sheets of paper together). A paperclip cluster bomb was one and a sparrow’s ice skate was another.

I liked my idea that a paperclip could be a friend. If you don’t have Facebook and you’re as imaginative as a tube of toothpaste, then why not have paper clip for a friend? It could work. It’s cheap, easy-to-use not to mention environmentally-friendly.

Anyway, it’s interesting how just the idea of uses for a paper clip can spark creativity. I guess it’s all about thinking outside the box and looking at things in a different way. Also, it is about not restricting yourself and just seeing where that train of thought takes you, although preferably not off a cliff and into the abyss of despair.

But I digress. Semantics and word play is another method to get those creative juices flowing. Think of words that are similar to the topic you are looking at: synonyms, connotations, metaphors, clichés, puns, association, etc. Don't forget antonyms.

Then there’s mind-mapping.
The who, what, where, why, when, how of a topic.
The political, economical, social, technological aspects of an issue.

It’s just different ways of thinking around a topic. It’s all useful.

Although my inspiration seems to come from random thoughts I might think or things I see. Then there is feasibility. For example, for this human interest piece I am planning on interviewing someone who went on the Obama campaign trail. I know it’s hardly breaking those journalistic boundaries but it’s good for now.

Who knows, in six months I might be putting together a feature about the socio-cultural effects paperclips have had on social networking.

Shorthand Blues

At the moment Teeline shorthand is the bane of my existence. As part of my NCTJ qualification I am required to be able to write at 100 words per minute in shorthand. When reporting on legal proceedings it is essential because no recording devices are permitted in court. Needless to say I am not even hitting 80wpm yet.

My dad reached 100wpm in Pitman shorthand, which I have been told is harder than Teeline, with English as a second language. So, in theory if my dad was a shorthand genius I can master it.

For me it’s one of those things you just have to keep working away at, like learning to play an instrument or training for a sporting event. The more you practice, the better you will get. Unfortunately, I am terrible at playing the piano and I don’t think Wimbledon is missing a tennis starlet.

Each day when I get back from university I spend an hour practicing outlines and speed building by listening to the ancient NCTJ recordings my teachers used to pass their exams.

The “dictation pieces” (as they are called) are four minutes long with a 30 second interval in the middle.

The subject matter of the passages is thrilling. From cat rescue centres to re-building church roofs, it’s the stuff wannabe journalists dream of. Forget about exposing major companies illegally dumping toxic waste or corrupt bankers stealing billions from investors, it’s all about saving the annual village fair.

They also attempt to spice things up with some gore. There is one piece about a car crash where a vehicle slips off the road and into the bushes. Weeks later the driver’s body is found along with the car. Apparently, from the colour of the corpse the police can tell it’s been there a long time. I guess that’s as exciting as it gets for now.

So there you have it, another snippet into the bizarre world of the NCTJ.

I am still at a loss with this video package but I have about six other assessments to worry about as well.

For those considering undertaking a course in Teeline shorthand here is a list of some of the dangerous side effects:

- blisters
- dented fingers
- deterioration of handwriting
- deterioration of spelling
- frustration/anger
- could cause crying
- long periods of isolation
- dreaming in outlines*

(I have suffered from most of these.)

* Outlines are the signs/symbols used in shorthand. In Teeline they correspond with letters in the alphabet. A lot of other shorthand systems are based on phonetics.

Confessions of an aspiring journalist

As my “About Me” section says, I am an aspiring writer and journalist. Like most people aspiring to something there are often periods of self-doubt, self-loathing and general misery. Instead of keeping it all to myself I thought I should attempt to channel it into something positive-ish.

So here is my attempt to blog, if somewhat sporadically, about my misadventures in journalism. There will be other random thoughts along the way and maybe some anecdotes recounting tales of a tenuously-linked journalistic nature.

Since you’ve got this far, maybe I should tell you a little bit about myself first. From the age of five I wanted to be a writer and by the time I was 14 I decided I wanted to be journalist.

I have been doing a masters degree with the National Council for the Training of Journalists' (NCTJ) accreditation since September. For those unfamiliar with the NCTJ, it’s a nationally recognised journalistic qualification.

It can be a helpful first step onto the media ladder but it isn’t essential. Some of the best journalists I know haven’t needed it but formal training can be useful.

Apart from this degree I have worked for two local papers, my university paper, a now-defunct magazine, a mid-brow film web site, niche financial market newsletters and a hospital radio station. But that’s history.

Today I learnt the basics of Final Cut Pro. It’s a programme which allows people to edit video footage. Easy to use and non-destructive, i.e. your original copy is left untouched.

I am supposed to be putting together a three-minute package to hand in at the end of term. I know it isn’t exactly a feature-length motion picture but following my disastrous relationship with an Edirol voice recorder last term I have my doubts.

As I recall my friend and I were carrying out audio vox pops across campus. We were quizzing various people about Fairtrade products. Lots of quotes about spending that little bit extra to help the third world and helping through trade not aid.

It all sounded great until we got into the editing suite and found we only had a couple of crackles followed by silence. Luckily, she had taken notes and we were able to submit something.

So this video project will be a steep learning curve to say the least. Now all I have to do is find a story.

Why the Boosh is Mighty

Over the past two and a half weeks I have been binging on 'The Mighty Boosh'. I have now seen all the adventures of Howard TJ Moon and Vince Noir from Zoouniverse to Nabootique and everything in between.

After hearing so much about it and seeing Noel Fielding's (one half of the Boosh) stints on 'Nevermind the Buzzcocks' it seemed worth casting an eye over at the very least.

For people who have never seen the show I can only describe it as is a surreal comic concoction with some pretty funky music. But it is difficult to describe the phenomenon that is The Mighty Boosh. In each episode the main characters Vince and Howard embark on a strange adventure be it ending up on a desert island and being abused by coconuts or defeating a demon dressed as a sweet old lady. It all sounds very bizarre, I know.

You may be wondering why I would watch the series so obsessively. Apart from the fact that the internet is a wonderful thing and gives immediate access to shows no longer being broadcasted, the Boosh makes for compulsive viewing. If I was still a student I would have probably had a 10 hour Boosh-a-thon. Sadly, since those have long since gone and I rationed myself to a couple of half hour episodes a night.

Unlike most comedy shows, the programme doesn't even pretend that it is set in our world. There is black magic, beige magic, a man made of cheese, shamans, talking gorillas, and so much more. The different places Vince and Howard visit and the quirky characters they meet in each episode provide perfect escapist fantasy. Nothing in the Boosh realm is questioned it is just accepted and rightly so. We do not need to know why a creature made of Shammy cloths has disco balls for balls or why the Hitcher has polo over one eye (he has minty vision). And to try to figure out why the humour works would unravel it. It works because it does.

Which brings me unseamlessly to the visual and musical elements of the show.

All the episodes are richly textured and each time you watch an episode you are likely to spot something new. The costumes, sets and props are intentionally Blue Peter style-sticky back plastic-toilet roll creations, made with the same love and attention as a papier-mâché Tracy Island. You know the sandpaper man who just can't find love is just Julian Barratt with scraps of sandpaper stuck on him but it doesn't matter. All that matters is accepting the characters as they are.

The use of animation and music reminded me of Monty Python, which the Boosh have cited as an influence of theirs. In some ways I feel that the Boosh is the new Python. Both share a similar fan appeal and to some small extent style. (You would be just as likely to see Vince slapping Howard around the face with a fish as you did Michael Palin to John Cleese in 'Monty Python's Flying Circus'). However, the Boosh seems to have penetrated the national consciousness even further than Python did with a diverse fan base including adults and children, emo and chavs alike.

I love the music for its mish mash and the way in which it crosses-genres. In my humble opinion Julian Barratt is genius, his songs are wonderfully catchy. He does not restrict himself one genre and succeeds in whichever kind of music he decides to write a song in. 'Future Sailors' is a personal favourite.

Then there is crimping which has been described by some as 'the new poetic form'. I can only explain it is as bizarre singing rhymes with corresponding moves – it is one of those things you have to see. Crimps are just as catchy as the songs and part of the originality of the show. According to Fielding once you remember a crimp you never forget it, so much so that Sugar Puffs decided a crimp would be a lucrative advertising tool. Surely, if a big food company wanted to steal the crimp there must be something to it and these are not completely the rantings of Boosh fan?

Watching the Boosh for me is like walking into a sweet shop for your eyes and your ears and being allowed to try a little bit of everything. The humour is simple and surreal. The collision of a multitude of genres keeps it fresh and may be one of the reasons that I think the show could go on and on without getting stale.

So go with Vince and Howard on a journey through time and space to the world The Mighty Boosh…

A Charlotte Lucas for our times

One of my childhood friend recently got an arranged marriage and for some reason I was horrified. I suddenly felt sick and I went through a negative rainbow of emotions: fear, sadness, anger, pity.

A part of me kept thinking: “How could she go through with it? She didn’t even love him.” I thought it was something that our parents did but we as the next generation wouldn’t. Then again although she may have born been here she spent her formative years in India so that probably had a big part to play.

I have met her husband and he is lovely. I know that she is very happy and that they get on well. Of course I am pleased for her but the thought of marrying someone I didn’t love just fills me with dread.

Clearly, I have been psychologically scarred by all those Disney films I saw as child. For example, in ‘Aladdin’ Princess Jasmine ends up with Aladdin even though in his pre-genie days, he didn’t even have two pence to rub together let alone a lamp.

The West dictates that you marry for love. If you don’t marry someone who you love and have a blissful existence together then somehow you’re not “normal” - whatever normal is. But what happens when the dream ends and you wake up?

You get divorced and try to re-create that ideal with someone else?

Maybe I should let go of my Western sentimentality and idealism that marriage is based on love and instead try to embrace the practicalities. After all marriage is a legally and financially-binding contract with another person.

With an arranged marriage, you are walking into an agreement with your eyes open. There are no delusions or expectations. You both know what you’re getting and what you want out of it. There is no emotion to cloud your judgement. You will be financially secure. You know they will support you come what may. You will get on with your partner even though they may not be your soul mate.

Maybe the East has got it right with their tea and lentils and the importance of education. Could it be that arranged marriages (which are consensual on both sides) are the way forward?

Although they are financial arrangements, there is more to it than that. Your parents play a part in deciding your future partner. They want the best for you, so they will try to find someone who will make you happy. It’s sort of like a dating agency’s filtering process. Surely, your parents know you better than yourself?

Unfortunately, my parents’ idea of what makes a good husband does not correspond to mine in the slightest. But it does seem tempting given that my romantic decisions have thus far ended in emotional turmoil.

In the very, very distant future, if push comes to shove and I am surrounded by married couples, maybe I will take the plunge instead of waiting for Mr. Darcy to never come.