A word about 141: In the UK (I don't know if they have such things in the US) you can call 1471 if you hear the phone and you somehow miss it, or if you get back and wonder if anyone phoned you while you were out. A recorded message or mechanised voice tells you what the number is and when they called, so that you can phone them back. Some people in the UK don't want people to know their phone number (for whatever reason) so if people can just ring up the operator and find out who called them last, naturally these shy people (don't laugh - my parents are "ex-directory") have to have a function in order to conceal their phone number. (It's also a magnet for burglars "casing the joint" - but that's like saying you can't sell kitchen knives because someone might just stab someone else with it rather than use it to cut up meat). So 141 (I haven't figured out when you dial it) means that you can tell the operator that you don't want your number to be recorded. But I'm sure that's what you meant anyway. As for Jarvis, sadly he has been ruined by success, and I'm not saying that in an elitist kind of way. That's why I don't fancy him anymore. That said, he's got every right to feel like that.... imagine if you got to make love to your dream guy and imagine how you would feel if you had to do that every single night - it would get so that you've got everything you wanted and you'd got nothing left to look forward to. (Like the feeling I always get on Boxing Day). It's the difference between having a dream and living it, sometimes you want to get back to normal. So I don't hate him for being that way, I just feel sorry for him. Also, Enoch Powell (yeah, I know, bastard, but hear me out) said that "all political careers end in failure". Jarvis is aware (unlike many other people) that he's got nowhere to go but down. I suppose. But it's good that he's doing stuff for the TV and using his fame to further his interest in art. As for here in London, because of the heat of the buildings and the river, it snowed in Soho last night (don't ask me what I was doing in Soho, please, it's too painful: I lost my wallet, keys, diary, everything; I was at a private function at a comedy club and someone got as pissed as a newt and wandered off with my handbag and I only noticed it had gone at the end of the evening when all the lights came on), but by the time we came out of the club at midnight most of it had melted and the stuff that hadn't was all on top of cars and motorbikes. One poor soul left his motorbike out in Lincoln's Inn overnight and he'll get a very cold rear end if he tries to sit on it! It's probably snowing at home in Bedford right now, and I'm missing it! We were in Moscow over New Year (a long story) and it was - can you believe this? - not snowing. I mean, that's like the middle of the greatest landmass on Earth, and it didn't f...ing snow!! Anyway, gotta go (hey I just got post! cool, I don't have to go and do my essay for another minute or so) Louise l.stanley@lse.ac.uk +----------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list please mail "sinister@majordomo.net". To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to "majordomo@majordomo.net". For list archives and searching, list rules, FAQ, poor jokes etc, see http://www.majordomo.net/sinister +---+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" +---+ +-+ "the cardie wearing biscuit nibbling belle & sebastian list" +-+ +----------------------------------------------------------------------+