I don't want to watch World Cup
I don't understand the point of it all
I don't want to watch football
I don't understand the thrill of sitting in an armchair
Screaming at the television
Cursing other human beings
Just because they're from a different place
Sugar, I'd rather watch a different sort of game
Sugar, where men don't kick what used to be a cow
That's what I was going to say, but since I've just sat through the whole of
the Ireland-Saudi Arabia match, screaming support and abuse, all oOOH! and
aAAHHH! in harmony with the rest of my office, the point is rather moot. I *do*
live here, though, and it would surely be a crime *not* to show a little
emotion, no? And it *was* a crucial match. Am I convincing anyone with all
these *emphatic* *excuses*?
It is different, though, the world cup. For a start it's about the countries
and the game, whereas the year-in, year-out nonsense is nothing but politics.
And the WC (?) is finite; three weeks and that's it for four years. I can
relate to that, even if it is sometimes just an excuse for legalised xenophobia
and grunting tribalism.
Still, that Saudi 'keeper. How much shit is *he* in when he goes home? I can
hear that axe being sharpened even as I type...
I think I'll have to rent Solondz's Storytelling after all. I read the reviews
at the time and wasn't moved to make the effort of going to the one cinema in
this little country (Northern Ireland) that was showing it. I did enjoy
Happiness, but I knew I'd only be going to hear four minutes of a soundtrack I
knew I'd buy the week it was released. Ho hum.
I think I'm gaining a little perspective on this band after all. In previous
years, when people criticised their work, I remained blind to any
imperfections, utterly incapable of appreciating any opinion that conflicted
with my own. And even though I was aware of that, it made no difference. But
after a weekend's listening I can appreciate why people like Miss McNeil have
difficulties. First or second time through I was thinking that it was an EP
with delusions of grandeur, but it's a slow-burner, I believe. Some of the
dialogue is a little unnecessary, but perhaps seeing the film will add a little
extra context.
And that I am now able to accept the criticisms, I can't decide whether it
means that this is a partically flawed, pseudo-album, or that my taste is
maturing. Nevertheless, and to paraphrase someone else, the Belles at their
most mediocre would still tower over many of their peers.
Enough waffle, I have a thesis to finish.
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