Saturday, 3 April 2010
Guardian All Ears 3rd April
I always used to love walking round Fresh & Wild dodging the 'status baby buggies' & surreptitiously planting boxes of mechanically retrieved chicken shapes on the shelves
(thanks to everyone for their suggestions for faddy overpriced super foods this week too - I love you all x)
See the original article here...
http://www.guardian.co.uk/culture/2010/apr/03/michael-holden-all-ears-organic#
(Article by Michael Holden)
I tend to steer clear of the organic grocer. Not for reasons of taste or judgment, but of finance. Sometimes, though, it's the only place open that has what I need. So I wound up in the holistic and meditative mood space that passes for a queue, watching a woman pass parcels of unfeasible origin and expense to a cashier whose demeanour hovered between complete spiritual enlightenment and imminent rectal prolapse.
Cashier (holding up one of her boxes) "This stuff is amazing."
Woman "I'm kind of having a detox."
Cashier (nodding sagely) "Well, that should do the trick."
Woman "I'm not into fasting, you know?"
Cashier (noticing the woman's hand – which was tattooed with various forms of writing) "That's such a beautiful script."
Woman (thrilled) "You know it?"
Cashier "Uh-huh. I mean, I'm very impressed by all that culture – the whole mindset. I read as much as I can. I hope to go over there and study."
Woman (pointing out more writing on her arm) "Each moment decays as soon as it's born."
Cashier "That's one of the core beliefs, for me."
Woman "I love it – it's just so true."
All the more reason to get a move on, you might think. But this went on for some time, until I was charged £7 for five onions, a small bag of wheat and some pine nuts (never let it be said that I don't know how to have a good time). When I got home and began cooking, the onions turned out to be in a state of decay that paralleled our own, which cheered me up no end. I would have gone back and complained, but the moment was already collapsing.
Labels:
All Ears,
illustration,
Michael Holden,
organic,
placebo,
tattoo,
the Guardian
Friday, 2 April 2010
today's creatures...
These critturs were from a book I illustrated a while back - I just saw them again & liked 'em - that's all - over & out!
Labels:
children's books,
crittur,
illustration,
monster,
steve may
Thursday, 1 April 2010
Saturday, 27 March 2010
Guardian All Ears 27th March
What sort of man has a name like 'Bear' for god's sake? Read on for clarity...
http://www.guardian.co.uk/culture/2010/mar/27/michael-holden-all-ears
(Article by Michael Holden)
I like it when I know what people are talking about and was thus elated and frustrated in equal measure when the conversation at the next table in the pub moved from familiar to puzzling terrain.
Woman “Bear Grylls is a dick.”
Man 1 “Bruce Parry’s the one.”
Woman “Bear Grylls kills spiders. Spiders that he’s already upset.”
Man 1 “He’s no Ray Mears, that’s for sure.”
Man 2 “He pissed in his turban.”
Man 1 “Who?”
Man 2 “Bear Grylls.”
Man 1 (as confused as I was by this revelation) “Pissed in who’s turban?”
Man 2 “He pissed in his own turban.”
Man 1 (as though that made sense) “Oh, okay.”
I went outside to consider where, if anywhere, the truth might lie in this allegation, only to find two men smoking in the midst of an equally odd dialogue.
Smoker 1 “Your days as a narcissist are numbered.”
Smoker 2 “There’s a puritan backlash”
Smoker 2 “Definitely. And it’s only going to get worse.”
Back inside the backlash had already begun.
Woman “I don’t see how he can get away with it-pissing in a turban.”
Man 1 (hoping he would be saying this for the last time) “IT WAS HIS OWN TURBAN!”
Woman (after a considered delay) “That doesn’t make it alright.”
Labels:
All Ears,
Bear Grylls,
Michael Holden,
puritan,
the Guardian,
turban
Saturday, 20 March 2010
Guardian All Ears 20th March
(Article by Michael Holden)
The baggage carousel was once the final circle of holiday hell, a last chance to consort with you fellow travellers before normality resumed and all the strange vacation liaisons faded. Nowadays, people who meet on holiday have the option to haunt one another across the Internet for the rest of time. Good luck to them. The carousel though, especially an empty one that isn’t rotating, remains an arena for strange conversation. While a plane load of people muttered and found ways to blame New Labour for their lack of luggage, two men in their sixties recalled the previous night’s entertainment.
Man 1 “Some of the dancing was quite impressive.”
Man 2 (setting him up) “Yeah, but you’ve seen one whirling dervish…”
Man 1 (accepting gladly) “You’ve seen them all!”
Man 2 “That said, the second was much better than the first. He got up to full speed right away. There was no build up. Impressive rate of rotation-relative to the others.”
Man 1 “That belly dancer…”
Man 2 (lapsing into a florid-end of the pier-grin) “Big girl!”
Man 1 “Did you stay for the singer?”
Man 2 “No-she cleared most of the room-including me. At six pounds for a gin and tonic I need more incentive than that.”
Man 1 (poking at the bags that had started dribbling onto the carousel)“It wasn’t like she couldn’t sing.”
Man 2 (channelling the spirit of Cowell) “Quite. It was the wrong choice of song. Why come out with a soppy ballad? Better to have gone up tempo.”
Man 1 “Quite.”
Man 2 “That’s my bag!”
Man 1 (forlorn) “Good for you.”
Man 2 “I’ve got another one.”
Man (visibly cheered) “Oh, okay.”
Friday, 19 March 2010
Thursday, 18 March 2010
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