Quench Issue 8 - 16 Feb 2004

Against type Amber Duval talks subtlety

OTP’s legend, tosser, and final thought

Debate argue the toss over The Matrix

Interviews catches up with Nick Leeson

Travel on the potential demise of cheap flights

Fashion sample a day of pampering

COVERSTORY: Gay- the problem with Darwin

Music enjoy an impressive NME tour

Books talk the merits of Bill Bryson

TheTimes writer Riath Al-Samarrai

DC Gates: a voice of rust in a world of tin

Executive editor Tristan Thomas Quench editor Alex Macpherson Arts Lizzie Brown,Rachel Pegum Blind Date Kerry-Lynne Doyle Books Maria Thomas Columnists Riath Al-Samarrai,DCGates Debate Jessica Webb Digital Gareth Lloyd,Simeon Rosser-Trokas Fashion Caroline Ellis, Bex Singleton Features Vicky Corbett,Rhys James Film Mat Croft Food Jane Eyre,Mari Ropstad Gay Ian Loynd Going Out Katy Davies,Jenny Duxbury,Lisa Walkley Interviews Rob Plastow,Louis Grover Music Jamie Fullerton,Anthony Lloyd One Trick Pony James Anthony Photography Gemma Griffiths,Anastasia Nylund Travel Tim Clark,Laura Tovey

Contributors Gary Andrews,Tim Alban,Big Al,Elizabeth Bodinger,Chewie,Sam Coare,Catherine Cornish,Sarah Cummins,Andrew Davidson,Jon Davies,David Ford,Adele Fox,Stephanie Fuller,Debbie Green,Chris Griffin,Charlotte Howells, Janine Jones,Perri Lewis,Kim Lyon,Andy Parsons,James Stock,James WalshHeron,Jason Draper Craig Driver,Barry Thompson,Rob Telford Photographers and illustrators Tim Alban,Simon Shoulders Assistant to the editor Elaine Morgan Cover design Mat Croft

Lex’s Law

Last week,French MPs voted by an overwhelming majority to preserve the spirit of secularism in schools. The banning of all overt religious symbols from a state institution covers large Christian crosses and the Jewish kippa,but it is the inclusion of the Muslim headscarf on the prohibition list which has ensured what is sure to be a long-running furore.

Of course,this is because headscarves,even disregarding the current global political climate,are much more than mere symbols of faith. They embody the patriarchal mindset which continues to dominate the three main monotheistic religions,and especially Islam: the rationale behind the wearing of the hijab is concerned not with the spirituality of the women it hides from view,but the men who cannot be trusted to see them. It bespeaks a fear of women as an alien other,and to condone the enforced wearing of it in the name of religion is an inherently anti-feminist and ultimately indefensible position. Most hypocritical are the self-proclaimed "Muslim feminists" who would coerce their sisters into a life underneath the veil in the name of liberty: the psychology behind the headscarf would deny them the freedom they enjoy to spout forth their incoherent opinions.

Yet it is equally offensive to notions of liberty - not to mention singularly unconducive to religious and ethnic harmony - to enforce a blanket ban on such garments. Secularism is a philosophy of liberty: its roots lie in a desire to protect citizens from the ravages of religion. Yet the (not entirely dissimilar) freedom to express one’s individuality is also a key one; the French government seems not to have realised that if it is to portray itself as a defender of liberty,it must defend all liberties equally. Its citizens must be free not only from religious coercion,but also intrusive state legislation; fundamentally,they must be trusted to do with their liberty what they wish - even if this means subjugating themselves to an oppressively patriarchal way of life.

One Trick Pony

IAmber Duval Amber Duval

Advice on the love that dare not speak it’s name...

would like to teach you a simple lesson that will help you create a good impression and get what you want. You need not relinquish your slutty lifestyle nor nymphomaniac desires,but remember ladies and gentlemen,the word of the week is ‘subtlety’.

Say,for instance you have a thing about a lecturer and there is the vaguest possibility that Prof. reciprocates. Pedagogues are cognitive beasts and you need to bear this in mind. Don’t distract them with tight tops but gently arouse their interest with a few well-placed words. Tantalise them with a demonstration of your most vital statistic,your IQ. In the midst of this discourse add a bit of verbal spice to get them hotI don’t mean dirty talk,I mean suggestion.

Imagine you have a meeting with said lecturer. Your vocabulary should speak volumes; make your point but be sure to sublimate. If an essay question is particularly difficult you say it is ‘hard’. If you are nervous before presentations say you have a

‘dry mouth’ because it implies a thought-process resulting in wet lips. Explain that your deadlines are keeping you up against a wall. Avoid vulgarities and cliches,instead search for sensuous,course-appropriate terminology (easier for students of linguistics than the sciences). Use the words ‘envelope’, ‘set-text’,‘languid’,‘taste’ and ‘effort’ wherever possible and say “mmm” instead of “yes”,understand the importance of the letters ‘x’ and ‘s’. You get the gist (‘gist’ is another one).

The British have at our disposal the greatest weapon known to flirting-kind: the double entendre. Be sure,though,never to draw attention to it,make sure a minimalist smile indicates your meaning.

Be ambiguous - your object should be left wondering whether you were actually trying to seduce them. They will doubtlessly be analysing your subtext for days,and therefore working up quite an appetite for the next occasion when they can feast their mind on you.

( O v e r r a t e d )

To the best of my knowledge,Cardiff has never had a Tower Records. I went into one in Brum once,and it was like HMV,only more expensive. Seeing as you need a second mortgage to buy CDs from HMV,the last thing we needed was its more expensive distant cousin. Once again, a multi-national music corporation blames file-sharing for its failure. Never mind high prices and corporate gluttony; blame those pesky kids with KaZaA! Now they’re going bankrupt. A wise man once said: “that’ll feckin learn ‘em”. I think it was Steptoe.

What empty lives we lead. Across the UK,people are mourning the end of Friends, Frasier,and Sluts in the City. They’re bandying about phrases like "it’s hard to imagine Friday nights without them". It’s hard to imagine Friday nights without pubs,lager,80p house doubles at Metro’s,and fights in Wetherspoon’s,not 25mins of inane American comedy. There’s still the mighty ER, Six Feet Under and the prospect of the Joey spin-off to keep you salivating. Rest assured: a TV gap is soon filled with crap.

Peeps keep coming up to me and saying "you’re not dead then" (see last week’s gair rhydd Letters Page). I don’t mind,but being accused of owning anal-intrusion devices is just plain strange. However,vile subject matter is probably something you’ve come to expect from the source of unalloyed filth that is the contemporary gair rhydd. A learned colleague of mine remarked the other day "it seems to have been taken over by a bunch of lunatics". Quite. Being Amber Duval’s neighbour is unsettling enough. Prudishness is not a trait that I’m readily accused of – if I had my way, these pages would be probably be full of Japanese pornography,but that grubby harlot raises even my eyebrows.

Frankly,I’m beginning to wish I was dead. And if I’m a Z-list Celebrity,Get Me Out Of Here had carried on any longer I’d be taking a dirt nap right now. I got sucked in,same as the rest of the knuckle draggers,but the whole thing just smacked of missed opportunities. It was high comedy,watching the fur fly between Jordan and Johnny Rotten. We should have a reprisal show,just the two of them,and hide some pointed objects,say,lumber,iron spikes,and... scalpels,in strategic places around the outback. Then William Hill could give odds on things like ‘injury location’,or ‘appendage loss’. Reality TV – brought to you by Dante’s Seventh Circle of Hell.

James Anthony

( U n d e r r a t e d )

The most searched for information on the internet this past month has been Ms Jackson’s tit. In typical satirical fashion, T Shirt Hell (www.tshirthell.com) have released a quality parody t-shirt: "for instant media coverage – tear here". The website has consistently produced great apparel for those of us with a primordial sense of humour,since 2001. They do shirts for men,women and babies,ranging from the mildly offensive to the utterly tasteless. Who could forget such classics as "I (plane) NY" or "Music In A Minor"? (I’ll let you figure that last one out for yourself). Go there. Buy things.

You can get some incredible pictures from the Hubble Telescope. NASA claims that the telescope is no longer viable,because it "presents a danger to astronauts". However,leaked NASA documents state that it’s no riskier for space monkeys to pay a service call to Hubble than it would be to build the proposed International Space Station. So why get rid of something that presents such rare opportunity to view the wonders and mysteries of space? Is NASA scared they might find something that finally proves the original moon landing was fake? You bet your ass.

( L e g e n d )

Sixty per cent of Americans get no exercise. 100 million of the tubby bastards are overweight. The US lives in the shadow of the Golden Arches,and one inhabitant, Morgan Spurlock,wondered what would happen if all you ate at McDonalds,three times a day,every day,for 30 days. And he decided to film the process. Genius.

Maccy D’s have been suffering lately; trying to champion the ‘healthy side’ of the silage they try to pass off as food,with phrases like,"It’s just meat, bread,and potatoes" – what could be

Morgan Spurlock

wrong with that? Well,quite a lot actually. Spurlock begins the film fit as a fiddle,weighing 185 pounds. Within days of cramming himself with supersize Big Macs,he’s regularly puking out of his car window. Spurlock’s body went through a general deterioration, not just weight gain; his liver became toxic,his cholesterol skyrocketed,his libido slumped,he got headaches,and suffered depression. He very nearly died making this film,and his veganchef girlfriend almost left him.

The Bowling For Columbine -style documentary has just finished a run at the Sundance Festival,and should be out on limited release soon. OTP salutes you Mr Spurlock,for truly,thy work is righteous.

( T o s s e r )

The following must be said in a South London accent... “British pop-throb,built like a brick shithouse he is,ugly fuck – Peter Andre! Yeah!...I couldn’t just shoot him first though mate,you’re having a laugh ain’t ya? Nah - oh no,that’d be like hoofing a cream cake whole,without it touching the sides,do you know what I mean? I believe it would be quite rude,not to torture him first…

“Thumbscrews instantly spring to mind,followed by an intense session of electrodes on the testicles.A wire coat hanger down the japseye… and finally,a bullet between the eyes,and it’s time to say hello to the old man you’ve been working on earth for all

this time,Pete! See ya later on Pete, noone gives a fuck about ya!"

Moff (Danny Dyer) in Human Traffic said it more eloquently than I ever could - remember the scene in the back of the taxi? If the rumours are true,we should all be running for cover right now,because Chris Moyles is campaigning to get Andre’s Mysterious Girl single a re-release. Moyles just won’t be content until everybody loathes him,will he?

Apparently,Andre’s nauseating, Jordan-hounding stint on I’m a Nonentity,Get Me Some Exposure has seen a 120% increase in his record sales. They’ve sold a massive three albums since the programme aired.

Hoofing a cream cake whole...

"Television is the literature of the illiterate,the culture of the lowbrow, the wealth of the poor,the privilege of the underprivileged,the exclusive club of the excluded masses"

-- Lee Loevinger (US Judge)

final thoughts ( . . .

)

Doner kebab with chili sauce,please.

"If human beings don't keep exercising their lips,he thought,their mouths probably seize up.After a few months' consideration and observation,he abandoned this theory in favour of a new one.If they don't keep on exercising their lips, he thought,their brains start working."

-- Douglas Adams

He’s lovin it.

The Matrix Debate 6

Does the thought of a kung fu film send shivers down your spine or do you tingle with excitement? Let the games begin!

Perri Lewis FOR Jessica Webb AGAINST

There are those who dislike The Matrix,those who totally loathe it and the rest who have the mental capacity to actually understand it. I guess some didn’t anticipate that they might have to engage their brain to appreciate the film. Most slated its complex storyline. I’m sorry,but this is a film made for people with more than an ounce of intelligence. The Matrix films aren’t pussy little movies,they are three hardcore-action-thriller-sci-fi masterpieces. Don’t watch them if you can’t hack it and don’t ever complain about the fight sequences being too long. Why on earth did you buy a ticket to a kung fu film if you don’t relish lengthy combats?

The most heavily criticised scene is probably the Cave Rave in Reloaded. Maybe if ignorant audiences looked beyond what they merely see,they would truly understand the Wachowski brothers’ intention. You see,this film is loaded with messages and connotations; you can interpret it in so many ways. It’s more than just simple, superficial entertainment like other Hollywood rubbish!

The Matrix isn’t a one-dimensional film; you really do have to work at it to really enjoy it. The ending may have been ambiguous,but it leaves room for audiences to use their own imagination to decode what it all represents. The depth of the film is mind-blowing! Once you see the immense number of intertextual references it’s extremely difficult to continue to slag off its creators.

If you can’t appreciate the trilogy for all this,at least credit it for its innovative filming style. The creation of “bullet time” was a very exciting development in the movie world. It has certainly made a mark in the history of film making.

If you don’t like it,it’s likely that you just don’t understand it. For those of you who remain critical,try watching it again and this time,try using your brain. If you still don’t get it,just go home and pick a film with an IQ to match your shoe size. The Sweetest Thing should do it.

Those in favour of stamp collecting,all things Star Trek and the Linux operating system (as opposed to the normalities of Windows 98) leapt for joy at the thought of not one,but a whole trilogy of Matrix films. This over-excitement is soon explained when the majority of its supporters can be found in internet chat-rooms after changing out of their school uniform.

These pre-pubescent nerds are soon joined by the arrogant and even more annoying fans who simply pretend to understand what the hell is happening! The rest of us,or at least those who manage to retain consciousness after the first hour,are then left feeling cheated and dissatisfied as all attempts to disguise the weak storyline completely fail. At this point,the Matrix-lovers generally retaliate by drawing attention to the computer graphics and ‘outstanding’ fight scenes. I hate to be the one to shatter these naive allusions,but maybe they should rent out a copy of the 70s classic Enter The Dragon. The Wachowski brothers haven’t injected an ounce of originality into the combat scenes; they’ve only slowed down the action to cause the audience even more boredom and irritation. There is absolutely no aspect of the trilogy which is innovative. Films like Star Wars were pioneering,while Lord Of The Rings is revolutionary. The Matrix is simply not in the same class.

It wouldn’t be that bad if the makers had stopped production after the first film and quit while they were ahead. Instead,we have been subjected to even more wooden acting and trenchcoats,a choice of clothing which transforms the entire cast into figures of fun who cannot be taken seriously. Don’t you remember watching ‘Allo ‘Allo?

Once you overcome all of the pretentious crap about the film’s advanced graphics,originality and depth of plot,its true colours can be seen. Ultimately,its only saving grace is the lead actor. Us girls get to stare at Keanu Reeves for hours on end. Apart from that,your time is better spent elsewhere!

gair rhydd

gair rhydd and Quench magazine will now be distributed each Saturday. We have increased the number of pick up points to allow you to collect our publication more easily:

Aberconway Refectory

Atlantic Coffee (Albany Road)

Atlantic Coffee (City Centre)

Barfly Barker

Business School

Bute

Café Europa

Cartwright Court

Chapter Arts Centre Column Road 130

Gordon Road

Humanities Library

Humanities Refectory

Here’s News

Julian Hodge

Kappuchinos

Law

Main Building

Maths Building

Med Club

Music

Physiology Refectory

Psychology Refectory

Redwood

Roy World

Royal School of Music

Secretariat

Senghenydd Court

Sherman Theatre

Shot in the Dark café

Spillers

Students Union

Talybont North Laundry

Talybont Social

Talybont South Laundry

Trevithick foyer

UGC Cinema

University Hall foyer

WRC

Welsh Club

Dominos,Crwys Road

Pizza Hut,Crwys Road

Co-op Crwys Road

Subway Crwys Road

Tesco Extra

Tesco Metro,Albany Road

Sainsbury’s Central

Virgin,City Centre

SPAR,Woodville Road

SPAR,City Road

Chandra food stall

Julie’s newsagents

The man who broke the bank

Louis Grover finds out how Nick Leeson became the Rogue Trader

I’m good with money" were Nick Leeson’s witty words as a group of us sat down to a friendly game of poker on China Beach,25km from Vietnamese hot spot Hoi An. I was surprised to see that Leeson had passed on the opportunity to play, deciding to keep score of the games finances.

Leeson met my expectations from Ewan McGregor’s role in Rogue Trader of a man who still enjoyed a drink with mates three years after his release. Leeson himself admits the film is a little overstated but fairly accurate,adding,"nowhere near enough sex is portrayed in the movie!" But a relaxed and calm side to Leeson was also revealed despite

living a life of mental and physical extremes. Inviting the locals to join our table for drinks,Leeson seemed right at home handing out footballs and his books to the street kids as they crowded our table.

It did seem that one thing Rogue Trader had missed was Leeson’s passion for football. In south-east Asia I noticed he took any opportunity to kick a ball around in his Manchester City top. He certainly lived up to his "balls of steel" reputation in the film by challenging the local Thai beach football champions to a match for 5000 bat (£80). Leeson’s money worries in the mid 1990s had vanished, he regularly bought rounds of drinks and even went to the trouble of booking tickets to a Man City v Newcastle match for a Geordie couple he had recently met in Thailand. "I’m fortunate enough to know a few ex-players so I get tickets fairly easily,I was going virtually every week last year."

Unafraid to talk openly of his misfortunes five years after his release from Changi jail,Singapore,Nick Leeson reflects on his ‘rags to riches’ tale. Against all the odds Nick Leeson,the Watford council estate lad who failed his maths GCSE,secured the position of a clerk with the Royal bank Coutts in the early 1980s. These were his first steps on the ladder to his world famous career at Baring’s Bank. When appointed Baring’s manager of future markets on the Singapore Monetary Exchange, the ‘roaring trader’ was living the high

life.

With his £50,000 salary and bonuses of up to £150,000 a year, Leeson seemed to have it all: a smart apartment,exotic weekend breaks

“At the end of 1992 I would have got a slap on the wrists,at the end of 1993 I was going to lose my job and at the end of 1994 I was going to jail”

and continuous partying,all of which were enjoyed with his wife Lisa Leeson. Unfortunately for Baring’s Bank,their very own ‘money spinner’ fell to pieces as he took devastating risks on the stock exchange that have led him to describe these mistakes as the most embarrassing period of his life.

Leeson had made losses of £830 million,well over Baring’s capital and reserves,which he covered up in the error account 88888. "At the end of 1992 I would have got a slap on the wrists,at the end of 1993 I was going to lose my job,and at the end of 1994 I was going to jail.’’ On the run and the world’s most wanted man Leeson spent his last days of freedom in Lisa’s arms. "I hadn’t slept well for a long time so my physical and mental health was strained to the limit. Being arrested in Germany brought with it a perverse sense of release from that." The handcuffs went on and Leeson faced the nightmare scenario of six-and-a-half years in Changi prison. Leeson denies allegations that he "found God",stating that he "couldn’t think of anything worse".

"I was lucky to receive at least 10 letters a week for four-and-a-half years,looking forward to receiving them was what I used to focus on the move forward." After his early release for good behaviour,the now highly media profiled Nick Leeson spent the first week of his release being interviewed by the Daily Mail. "Friends and family came to a secret house in East Sussex and we ate and drank,interspersed with interviews. The first thing that I did when I got back to Watford was go out with the lads and get completely wasted,as you do."

Recently married for the second

time,Leeson has moved on and is enjoying his new life in Galway. "My wife is Irish,it was easier for me to move there than Leona here [England],and I quite enjoy living away from home. I now have two stepchildren so that is a whole new learning curve and experience."

"The only bit of advice that I give, which I never actually did,is to ask for help when you are confronted by something that you can’t cope with."

Students of Cardiff,if you begin to lose your loans on Leeson's new internet poker venture (www.celebpoker.com) make sure you get confirmation of an overdraft extension from your bank before it’s too late.

Despite making an alleged £250,000 from Rogue Trader,

“The first thing that I did when I got back to Watford was go out with the lads and get completely wasted, as you do”

Nick Leeson

£50,000 from his book and considerable sums for newspaper serialisation,Leeson still needs to work after paying legal fees totalling £2 million.

"I do a lot of after dinner and public speaking now,the reaction is usually positive. I think it is a fascinating but tragic story and most people enjoy it and love asking questions.” Nick has mesmerised me with his endless stories; whether it was sleeping on rough concrete for three-and-a-half years in Changi prison,the visits from Geri Halliwell while in jail or his rowdy nights out with Vinnie Jones.

After being cured of cancer of the colon,which had already taken his mother’s life,and with an injunction where half his earnings are paid to Baring’s liquidators soon to be dropped,Nick Leeson can finally look forward to his future. Since graduating

from Middlesex University in 2003 with a degree in psychology,Leeson has begun writing the follow up to his book How I Brought Down Baring’s Bank. "When I wrote the last book I was on my way back from Singapore and was conscious of not making things worse for myself."

For the son of a plasterer to successful trader,world’s most wanted criminal,cancer patient,author, celebrity,student,husband and now father figure,life for Nick has without doubt been a challenge. Twenty years on and steering clear of the trading world,Nick Leeson is a happy man.

"After the collapse of the bank, divorce,cancer and prison I have a second chance,I’m not going to waste it."

grfood@cf.ac.uk

Elisabeth Bodinger explores the connection between food and seduction and provides saucy suggestions for

Oysters and antlers for my Valentine

The day of lovers is upon us once again,or as my boyfriend described it “that contrived day where everyone is forced to be romantic”.

So as I smiled and pinched his cheek,marvelled at the warm glow that his dry wit and charm produces and imagined the wonderful romantic surprises that lay ahead for me, it suddenly occurred to me that others may not be as fortunate as myself,to have such a giving partner. It was decided therefore that I should dedicate some of my time to researching ways in which you could spice up your lives using the timehonoured way of the aphrodisiac.

There is no doubting the sexy connection between food and seduction. The classic one,the one that we could all name,is,perhaps,the oyster. An aphrodisiac no doubt, because of the expense and it being considered a delicacy,or maybe it is the invigorating smell of ozone, crashing waves,playing in the surf… wrong! It was in fact quite a common food stuff at one point and something the working classes ate in abundance in places like Whitstable. Did you see

Tipping The Velvet? The uncomfortable reason that it is a renowned aphrodisiac is its alleged resemblance to the female genitalia (not so sexy now,eh?). Perhaps someone who worked in the oyster industry came up with that one? They also possess high levels of zinc and research has shown that a low sperm count is connected to a lack of zinc,but I doubt that a high sperm count is likely to get you going in the bedroom department anyway.

things as rhinoceros horn,tiger’s penis,fat,bones and liver and the antlers from any such creature that possesses them; the ethical angle of these products is questionable, not to mention the efficacy. What’s sexy about powdered antlers? Please let me know if you think of anything.

Let’s move on to something more amusing: simple phallic shapes. Cucumbers,bananas and courgettes (hee hee). Research has shown that the smell of cucumbers actually stimulate women,so it isn’t just about the shape. Bananas also come into the category of the colourful and the exotic, while tropical fruits tend to be highly scented and coloured. Papayas,mangoes and pineapples are not traditionally known for their aphrodisiac powers,yet they are all a feast for the senses. Juicy,soft and sweet; need I say more?

There are many such aphrodisiacs said to have sexual power due to their remarkable similarity to genitalia,or simply for actually being genitalia or some other body part from another member of the animal kingdom. Chinese and Asian medicine advocates the use of such

One of the ultimate love foods, honey,is sweet and spreadable and perfect for dipping or slathering all over any object in question. The word honeymoon is derived from the ancient custom that for the first lunar month after marriage a newly married couple would drink mead (honey wine). Some cultures spread a little honey on the palms of the bride and groom and have them lick it off each other to ensure a sweet life together. I am not suggesting that honey is so potent that you’ll want to get hitched but if that is the end result,then I wish you a long and happy union.

The more traditional end of the aphrodisiac market,champagne, chocolates,ice cream,strawberries and caviar all have their well-earned place. Champagne,and alcohol gen-

erally,makes you feel like a sex god and everyone around you look like perfection personified,though too much can have the opposite affect and turn you into a grotesque,dribbling fool - so tread with care. Ice cream shares the spreadable and lickable qualities of honey,and frankly,who doesn’t like ice cream? Chocolate is universally coveted for its sensual qualities. When enjoyed it releases chemicals similar to those released during sex, though it does melt and spread too! Caviar is expensive and possibly an acquired taste but as with other egg related products is connected to fertility. Do you want to have fun or pro-

Most alleged aphrodisiac powers are based in folklore and myth and have no scientific basis. However there are those of us who would not be without our liquorice tea or rabbit’s livers (?),and personally I will always be drawn to the sweet,sticky, spreadable,bubbly,juicy end of the aphrodisiac market. As far as I can tell you can use anything as an aphrodisiac; the only rule of thumb seems to be sensuality. If it stimulates the senses,through colour, texture,smell or taste,if it possesses the ability to make you say “mmm” then you’re on to a winner. I think the words that best sum up this area of stimulation are “imagination” and “fun”. You don’t need to have a massive budget. A friend of mine had an “amazing time” once with a packet of Maltesers and a Mars bar,though her mum did mention the state of the sheets afterwards. Basically,if you can have fun with it then it’s an aphrodisiac.

Enjoy! 10 Food Quench 16 02 04

Grub for scrubs

These meal ideas are all based on five star ingredients which won’t get you into the red. The five star ingredients are peppers,rice,chicken breasts,onion,and Campbell’s condensed soup (tomato,chicken,and mushroom are the most versatile). If you are veggie or vegan,substitute the chicken with quorn,tofu or extra vegetables. Some of these recipes call for cooking oil,spices,and milk,which can easily be stolen off your housemates. All recipes serve four,and take about 10 minutes to prepare.

Mediterranean Chicken and Bacon

30ml (2 tbsp) vegetable oil

340g (12oz) chicken breast,sliced

1 onion,chopped

6 rashers bacon,derinded,chopped

125g (4oz) mushrooms,sliced

295g can Campbell’s Condensed Mediterranean Tomato Soup

200ml (7 fl.oz) water

150ml (5 fl.oz) cream (optional)

Heat a large pan,add the oil and stir-fry chicken for five minutes. Add onion,bacon and mushrooms and stir-fry another 5 minutes. Stir in soup and water. Simmer for 15 minutes or until chicken is tender, stirring occasionally. Just before serving gently stir in cream if using. Serve with pasta or rice and fresh vegetables.

Sick of couplyValentine’s Day celebrations? Kim Lyon shows you how to cook a lovely meal for your mates instead of smooching on the sofa TikkaChickenMasala

Chicken Wraps

1tbsp vegetable oil

1 sliced onion

4 sliced chicken fillets

1 sliced pepper

Pinch chilli powder

1 tin Campbell’s Condensed Chicken Soup

100ml water

8 flour tortillas

150g cheddar cheese

Heat oil in large frying pan,then stir fry chicken,onion and peppers for 10 minutes. Stir in chilli powder,soup,and water,and let simmer for five minutes,stirring regularly. Divide the mixture evenly between the tortillas and roll up. Place the tortillas in a shallow flameproof dish,sprinkle with cheese and grill until cheese melts.

Quick

Chicken in Red Wine

15ml (1 tbsp) vegetable oil

4 chicken breasts,cubed 1 onion,chopped

100g (3 1/2oz) mushrooms, sliced

Chicken in SpicySauceTomato

15ml (1 tbsp) vegetable oil

4 chicken breasts,cubed 1 10mlonion,chopped (2 tsp) each ground cumin and ground coriander 295g can Campbell’s Condensed Tomato Rice Soup

200ml (7 fl.oz) water

15ml (1 tbsp) mango chutney

Heat a large pan,add the oil and stir-fry chicken and onion for five minutes. Add spices and stir-fry for one minute. Stir in remaining ingredients and simmer for 15 minutes or until chicken is ten- der,stirring occasionally. Serve with rice.

295g can Campbell’s Condensed Hearty Vegetable Soup

150ml (1/4pt) red wine or water

Heat a large frying pan,add the oil and stir-fry chicken for five minutes. Add vegetables and stir-fry another five minutes. Stir in soup and wine or water and simmer for 15 minutes,stirring occasionally. Sprinkle with parsley. Serve with new potatoes,rice or pasta.

4 chicken breasts,cubed

15ml (1tbsp) vegetable oil

30ml (2tbsp) tikka paste

295g can Campbell’s Condensed Cream of Tomato Soup

200ml (7 fl.oz) milk

Heat a frying pan,add the oil and stir-fry chicken for five minutes. Stir in remaining ingredients and simmer for 20 minutes, stirring occasionally. Serve with rice. Try this recipe with fresh turkey too,or use 500g (1lb) cooked chicken or turkey. Add a little double cream at the end of cooking for an extra rich sauce.

No more cheap flights?

Students like cheap things, it’s a well known fact. We’re especially good at travelling on the cheap. There are hundreds of student deals and discounts available and students (or students-in-waiting) form a big part of the back-packing community. We sleep in hostels,on trains and in bus-stations,all in the name of saving our pennies. Another trick is the use of budget airlines and cheap flights. But one of the leading low-cost airlines, Ryanair,is now predicting the end of cheap flights as we know them.

This comes in response to a ruling by the European commission that some of the deals Ryanair has with regional airlines are illegal,following a two year investigation.

The argument centres on Charleroi airport,outside Brussels where the local government struck a deal involving cash incentives,discounts and assistance with training and staff accomodation. In return, Ryanair would use Charleroi instead of Brussels’ main city airport,Zaventem. But as Charleroi is a public airport,these subsidies are effectively public funds. The commission ruled that this constitutes illegal state subsidies and unfair competition. Loyola de Palacio,the EU transport commissioner has ordered Ryanair to return £3 million that it has received in the deal.

Ryanair’s spokesman,Michael O’Leary has responded by branding the commission "the evil empire", saying,"it will reduce flights. In some cases there will be no flights." He also claims the ruling will affect the whole of the low-cost airline industry, not just the struggling Ryanair: "This is not just an attack on Ryanair - it's an attack on all low fares everywhere," O’Leary claimed. But other budget airlines disagree,with EasyJet confident that they will be unaffected, claiming: "We welcome this week's decision by the European commission clarifying the relationship between airlines and publicly-owned airports and see it as supportive of the low-cost airline industry." But while the airlines are squabbling between themselves, how will the ruling affect ticket prices

for us? The comission estimated that airfares would be increased by six to eight Euros per ticket but O’Leary said,"I think you can double or treble that." Ryanair has vowed to appeal and asked for a stay on the ruling until a full economic evaluation has been conducted.

But some industry players are downplaying the economic effects. For one thing,flights to countries such as Germany and within Britain, where airports are privatised,will not be affected. Furthermore,in the long run the ruling could lead to cheaper flights across the board,as more airports become privatised and main city airports reduce costs for all airlines to compete

airfares should more accurately reflect the true cost of doing so."

The ruling against Ryanair probably won’t affect most of us too much: there are so many cheap deals available to students and prices are falling all the time as major players such as British Airways get involved with the cut-price flight market. Many budget airlines,including Ryanair, bmibaby and Air Wales fly from Cardiff airport,bringing most of Europe within easy reach or the average student who has a couple of hundred pounds to spare for a cheap break.

And if you don’t have much cash to spare,there is another way. Charles McKinley recently shut himself in a

Association said,"The commercial reality is that all the industry must evolve to a new and lower cost structure. Reduced airport costs reflecting greater efficiency is a demand of all airlines."

Not everyone welcomes the thought of cheaper air travel,however. The aviation industry is a major contributor to carbon dioxide pollution and environmentalists criticise the assistance,such as tax-free fuel,that governments give to the industry. Richard Dyer of Friends of the Earth argues that public funds should be spent on developing more environmentally friendly methods of transport such as rail travel,saying, "People will still be able to fly,but it is not unreasonable to expect that

the airfare. He travelled by lorry,aeroplane and delivery van with a mobile phone that did not work but no food or water. Yes it was stupid,and yes he could easily have died on the way (now that would be a nice surprise for his parents,who opened the box),but if it hadn’t been for the $1,500 fine he received,he would have saved himself a lot of money. If you like dicing with death,it’s a win-win situation: if you don’t get caught,you get free transport. If you are caught,try to convince the authorities that you pose a terrorist threat and you could get free accommodation in jail.

Laura Tovey

By Adele Fox, Travel Reporter.

Indian train journeys are something of a mixed bag. You might happily find yourself on a 36 hour journey with a family that chats to you,feeds you,and sometimes even puts you up for a night or two. Or you might spend six hours hanging out of the door watching the sun go down. Or you might find yourself on a 27 hour ride from Bombay on an overcrowded carriage full of angry men where you don’t really feel that safe anymore. I had them all last summer but the latter was a little more unexpected. My two friends and I started our journey. Realising we were on the wrong train and getting off as soon as we could,we ran from platform to platform frantically trying to decide who was telling the truth about where we could get the right train from. Finally we spent a relieved 12 hours playing magnetic chess,reading my addictive Steinbeck paperback and enjoying the countryside and the breeze. The train was so booked up that

were on the waiting list managing to get one bunk between the three of us. As time went on the train steadily filled up and people started to claim their bunks. Our carriage was mainly filled with non-uniformed,well-built Sikh soldiers who were merrily drinking rum by the bottle and inviting Oliver to share bunks with them,lying face to face,legs overlapping his, telling him they were very happy. While this provided excellent entertainment for us,we weren’t so happy when fights started breaking out at either end of the carriage. Jenny had been in the toilet in between carriages when the fighting started and had to battle her way back through the mob where some guy took advantage of her situation by grabbing her crotch. She,in return,smacked him round the head. A guy in the top bunk opposite us was being punched by a group of men trying to pull him off. All we could do was sit there and watch as there was nowhere to move to,and we were told that people had been stealing other people’s bunks which

windows we were told to pull our metal shutters down which didn’t do any favours for the hot and already tense atmosphere. As the rocks hit the metal,along with angry fists,the shutter opposite us refused to shut properly so the rocks carried on coming and we were pulled into the crowd to avoid their path. When I finally managed to sleep for half an hour,I woke up to find a man draped across me with his hand steadily rising from my waist. In my slightly delirious state I wasn’t entirely sure what was going on but after he apologised as if it was an accident,and then continued to do it,I put a stop to it!

Feeling irritated,tired and slightly violated,that was not one of my fondest memories of the Indian railways. After treating men suspiciously for a couple of hours,I soon resumed my love for the loud,dirty,unpredictable, wonderful country that it is.

Going to India: what you need to know

India seems to be a must for many travellers Not only trains,but heat,curries,‘Delhi belly’ and Bollywood are waiting for you as soon as you arrive.

It is probably best to travel with a friend especially for the first time,you are likely to get ill. Also be aware that Kashmir is a dangerous province for a westerner.

For more information go to STA,roughuides or the indian tourist office at www.tourismindia.com

A history of St Valentine’s Day

With the most romantic day of the year approaching James Snook gives us a brief history of where it all began

It’s that time of year again,when everything starts turning pink fluffy and heart shaped,and no I’m not talking about the new gay fashion accoutrement,I’m talking about Valentine’s Day.

Oh l’amour,a day of love and slush and a fun excuse to forget social boundaries and to bite the proverbial bullet and tell somebody how you feel about them. (I’m obviously talking in the romantic sense,and will not be held responsible for any verbal onslaught that ensues.)

Now before the commercial present day,where companies will quite happily sell their own grandmother as a gimmick to gain more profits (fleeting image of a well-known card shop... Clinton’s trying to wrap an old dear up,lovely red ribbon with a colostomy bag dangling out),Valentine’s had a more romantic noble meaning.

Over the next few paragraphs I will try and restore some of this lost history,which is not very well known.

Back in days,almost before the wheel,before Rubber Duck for all those newbies out there,in fact back in the fourth century BC when Johnny Rotten was a snippet of a lad, Romans participated in an annual tradition of playing the sexual lottery, whereby young maidens names were placed in a box and drawn at random by an adolescent man. That maiden would then be assigned to that man for the duration of the following year until the next lottery was cast. This was the practice for 800 years! But eventually the early church fathers in their infinite wisdom put a stop to

“Valentine, being a Bishop of virtue,would hold secret meetings joining people in the sacrament of matrimony”

these wild yearly wife swaps. Deciding that it was incorrect practice,they sought answers in history and decided to use the story of Valentine,a Bishop from 270 AD.

Back in 270 AD there was a Darth Vader-esque Roman emperor named Claudius II who decided to outlaw marriage in attempt to create an army of sex-starved,angry,vicious soldiers. He believed that emotionally attached men were weak and thus would make bad soldiers. Valentine,being a bishop of virtue,could see the trauma of these young lovers,and began holding secret meetings joining people in the sacrament of matrimony. This is where the plot thickens and becomes dark. Claudius learned of this fellowship of love and had Valentine arrested.

St Valentine baptising St Lucilla

Claudius,seeing the dignity and conviction in Valentine, generously gave him two options. He could either convert to the Roman gods and renounce Christianity or could face the ultimate punishmentdeath.

Valentine,a stoic, strong-willed type told Claudius where he could stick his Roman gods,and was sentenced to death.

Before his execution as he lay contemplating his fate,his life and his views on love,a beautiful young girl brought him some bread. It was the guards daughter; though blind, she possessed such beauty all were enchanted. Valentine was no exception; he was so besotted that he set about curing her blindness with his faith. The power of his love for life and his belief in God cured her.

suspicion that they didn’t pull for a while.

Fun Valentine’s Day facts:

Some people used to believe that if a woman saw a robin flying overhead on Valentine's Day, it meant she would marry a sailor.If she saw a sparrow,she would marry a poor man and be very happy.If she saw a goldfinch,she would marry a millionaire.

As her eyes began to perceive light and shadows and the image of Valentine’s face becoming clearer,the guards came to drag Valentine to his death. Just before he died he managed to scribble on a piece of paper the words "from your Valentine",the immortal phrase which has stuck to this very day,and can now be seen plastered over cards and fluffy novelty items. Valentine himself is still one of the most popular saints in both England and France.

This is clearly a very romantic tale which chills single folks to the bone; it’s enough to make even the saccharine Kerry McFadden sick.

But if you are left alone on Valentine’s night,and you’re sat there with your 1kg bar of Galaxy, your Chinese meal for one and a rather large bottle of Pinot Grigio listening to Joni Mitchell or the Carpenters and living a parody of Bridget Jones’s Diary - get your arse off that sofa,wipe the choccie from your gob and get your arse out,it’s the perfect night to pull!

Just think: there is always someone worse than you, like the 3% of pet owners this year who will send Valentine’s cards to their pets,or the 17th century maidens who would eat a hard boiled egg and pin five bay leaves to

Whatever you get up to on Valentine’s night,have a great and safe night. Good luck to the single people out there (including moi) and a very big “get a room” to the rest of you loving couples out there.

"Love is the delightful interval between meeting a girl and discovering that she looks like a haddock" – John Barrymore

"Love is a reciprocal torture" – Marcel Proust

In some countries,a young woman may receive a gift of clothing from a young man.If she keeps the gift,it means she will marry him.

In the Middle Ages, young men and women drew names from a bowl to see who their valentines would be.They would wear these names on their sleeves for one week.To wear your heart on your sleeve now means that it is easy for other people to know how you are feeling.

In Wales wooden love spoons were carved and given as gifts on February 14.Hearts,keys and keyholes were favourite decorations on the spoons.The decoration meant,"You unlock my heart!"

Back to nature

By Caroline Ellis and Bex Singleton Fashion Editors

On a cold Febuary morning I woke up and looked at my tiered,pale face and felt I was in needed of some well deserved TLC after a hectic exam season and a busy start to the new term.

I felt the only solution that could help rejuvenate myself was either by getting the first plane to the Carribean (although a little out of my price range),or try and find a place in Cardiff where I could relax and get pampered to my heart’s content. Much to my surprise I have found such a haven in the middle of town on the street of St Mary. The trendy and calming Aveda Bauhaus not only offers a wide range of beauty and hair treatments but also body treatments such

as nature massages,back treatment, waxing,facials and eyebrow waxing and tinting. Newly opened in August,it boasts upstairs and downstairs salons with two treatment rooms. There are excellent hair and beauty facilities on site but also an extensive range of beauty products and make up - and they even have a coffee bar which sells Welsh organic foods and juices. What better reason to have the excuse

to spend an afternoon or even a day there looking after number one?

Manager Bethan Williams told the Quench fashion team how popular male beauty treatments have become, and how men are now nearly the biggest clientele of the Bauhaus.

Bethan remarked that the market for male beauty care has rocketed and this is readily apparent at the Aveda Bauhaus as they have an extensive range of men’s treatments,including lip or chin wax,chest wax and a plethora of male grooming products. The most popular men’s treatment is currently the ‘Aveda Maintenance Manicure’.

At Aveda a trend seems to be occurring wherein more men and women are concerned about their image and the products they use on their body.

As Aveda products focus on using natural plant materials and plant pigments,these products have become popular because of their natural goodness. Aveda treatments have a sensuous but very subtle fragrance which make you smell like a natural goddess. By the year 2005 80% of Aveda beauty ingredients used in the products will be organic.

Immaculate complexion

Match your 50s frills with a flawless feminine face

By Charlotte Howells and Perri Lewis Fashion Correspondents

As the new season approaches the quest for a faultless and immaculate face continues; blemish-less skin is the perfect base for the pretty and feminine 50sinspired clothing appearing in the shops now. To achieve this look you don’t need to break the bank with hundreds of potions and creams,nor should you cake on the contents of your make-up bag in an attempt to create a dull mono-shade look. The key to glowing flawlessness is enhancing,not covering,your features. Choose refiners,highlighters and concealers to reveal your new

Toget a flavour of what’s going to be hitting the hig street this year, Quench took a look at the offerings for Spring/Summer 2004 from the couture houses’ Parisian shows.

It seems that Valentino are going very Charlotte à la Sex And The City this season. Knee-length skirts and day dresses were teamed with tiny cardigans; they’re obviously opting for simple formulas. No frills,just the addition of red and olive to classic monochrome outfits.

Chanel chose to cut their skirts a little shorter. They experiment with frills and flamenco elegance in a similar black and white theme. With fairytale full length dresses in neutral colours,their collection is predominantly feminine but reminiscent of previous utility chic.

Whilst much of this has been inspired by Spanish style,outfits by Jean-Paul Gaultier have been influ-

skin!

Creating your immaculate complexion doesn’t have to push you into the red. Pick and mix between luxury and ludicrously cheap products.

For facial perfection,smooth on a skin refiner before make-up:

Spend: Benefit Dr Feelgood (£19) This luxurious balm refines skin and banishes oil,leaving it feeling like velvet.

Save: Tesco Skin Wisdom Ideal Skin Refiner (£5) Contains soothing liquorice,it evens your complexion and moistures thirsty skin.

Cover your alcohol-induced eyebags and blemishes with some hide-all concealer:

Spend: Still in my opinion the queen of cover ups - YSL Touche Eclat,

enced by tradition Chinese and Arabian dress. Unlike other houses, this one oozes eccentricity and their creations are astoundingly innovative.

The most peculiar show was held by Christian Dior. They overwhelmed audiences with models clad in Egyptian headwear dripping with gold and bold yellows and blues. Other metallic colours were added,creating an Egyptian/spaceman theme; Tudor extravagance also filled their catwalk in a range of rich reds,pinks and purples.

Just as dramatic,but far more wearable was Versace’s offering. Although the colour theme was lighter,with little dresses in whites, creams and pastel yellows,the collection was still as glamorous. Extravagant satin dresses boasted full skirts which exposed a great deal of flesh while a much shorter cut was chosen for their other pieces.

Radiant Touch (£19)

Save: The Body Shop’s Lightening Touch (around £7) has a similar effect without the price tag.

Highlight the areas that catch the light, cheekbones and browbones:

Spend: A little of Benefit’s High Beam (£15) goes a long way.

Save: Try Revlon Skin Lights (£9.95) for a subtle sheen.

Finish your polished base with a smudge of pink lips and a slick of mascara,aim for the pretty 50s starlet look featured on the catwalk for this season. Select your pink from a petal pink hue to a shocking shimmering pink! Try Maybelline’s subtle fruity jelly (£4) in strawberry or L’Oréal’s Glam Shine (£6.99) in Magic Crystal for a bright shimmer.

R o u g h s c i e n c e

Did Darwin get it wrong? Quench investigates

By Ian Loynd

There is nothing unnatural about homosexuality. I must believe this as a gay man. To believe anything else is to suggest that being gay is in some way a defect, an unexplained anomaly.

For biologists,homosexuality remains just this. An inexplicable mishap in the evolutionary chain which contradicts Darwin’s theory of sexual selection. But did Darwin get it wrong? Dr Joan Roughgarden says he did.

Dr Roughgarden’s interest in gender and sexuality began during a 1997 gay pride march. A theory that does not allow for the existence of homosexuals was seemingly flawed as tens of thousands took to the streets to cement their place in the world. And so her work began – if this number of people were not wrong,then perhaps the theory was.

Dr Roughgarden describes the theory of sexual selection as that of ‘horny handsome warriors’ and ‘discreetly discerning damsels’. She not only claims that it is flawed but goes further to suggest that it is categori-

cally wrong. If gay people are ‘defective’ then we will not be around for long. A genetic mutation gives a lower Darwinian ‘fitness’ and thus,by natural selection,the mutation will be filtered out. However,the concepts of gender and sexuality are not unambiguously classified as male or

“Horny handsome warriors and discreetly discerning damsels”

Dr Joan Roughgarden’s description of Darwin’s theory of sexual selection

female,heterosexual or homosexual in most species. Indeed,our preconceptions of the role of the male and female are in no way the norm. Most species,claims Dr Roughgarden,will take on both sexes at some point in their life cycle. Such animals are known as simultaneous hermaphrodites. Thus,the basic idea of gender becomes confused. Can an animal be neither male nor female but

somewhere in between? Her research has shown that this can be the case.

The idea of sexuality is further explored in her book, Evolution’s Rainbow: Diversity,gender and sexuality. It addresses the fact that sexual contact in mammals and birds has little to do with the transfer of sperm. Consider a human couple, who have sex once a week for 50 years. They have two children but have had intercourse 2,500 times. This seems most ineffective. Sexual contact is clearly more important in managing successful relationships than it is to producing offspring,an important concept in Roughgarden’s argument.

It has been demonstrated that same-sex genital contact occurs regularly in over 300 vertebrate species. It is reasonable to infer, therefore,that homosexuality has a purpose. Dr Roughgarden’s studies show that one such purpose involves social inclusion.

Apeacock’s tail or a stag’s horns are,she claims,as much for the attention of other males as they are for the ladies. They are “badges of membership to power holding cliques.” Social inclusionary techniques are also employed by female hyenas. To be accepted in their ‘clique’ – to be allowed to share in their food and the protection of the group – a female must erect her clitoris for genital contact with others.

The existence of homosexuality is further validated as it leads,according to Roughgarden’s research,to no decrease in Darwinian fitness. A gay man still attracts females. He is capable of breeding and producing healthy offspring. Whereas a heterosexual man may be less effective at finding a mate. He may choose not to reproduce. Homoeroticism can also solidify relationships and prolong life. Two men,who form a close relationship, may take extra lengths in protecting one another in war,for example.

The research into sexuality is complex and addressed only briefly here. Yet it is clear that many unanswered questions remain. Most importantly, however,Dr Roughgarden believes that homosexuality plays an important role. It “bonds relationships that are crucial for a successful life.”

Her research has attracted mixed responses from professional peers. She is considered to be a world class scientist yet some feel her political agenda mars the scientific validity of her work. Shortly after her part in that 1997 gay pride march,Dr Joan Roughgarden came out as a transgendered woman. It was the alleviation from administrative duties at Stanford University upon disclosing this that gave her the time to conduct her research. But how far does a personal agenda discolour scientific research? Not at all,according to Dr Roughgarden. She claims that her personal views simply provide the drive that commits her to her work.

The implications of such discoveries have unparalleled importance to gay men and women. If it is agreed that sexuality is naturally diverse –that the existence of homosexuals is as nature intended – we should expect to see huge political reform. Arguments of the “importance of natural heterosexual relations” for the “well-being of our children” would be ungrounded. In fact,they would be scientifically inaccurate. The acknowledgement of such research would pave the way for not only the tolerance,but acceptance,of homosexuals in society.

Dr Joan Roughgarden

America’s Sweetheart

Virgin

It’s been a bit of wait for this album - six years in fact and it hasn’t been the easiest of times for the Hole-ly one. There’ve been legal wranglings,changing record labels and court cases; Courtney has hardly seeked artistic solitude in the writing of this album despite the intense two-year build up to its release.

America’s Sweetheart is nothing unexpected either. Mono is as predictable as any Hole single. It’s an old formula,three chords strummed in a disjointed rhythym with Courtney’s gravelly spoken vocals over the top,but it works. Musically,there’s not much else which is new. Sunset Strip is the slow, melodic power-ballad with added sparkle and shine from Kim Deal (Breeders) and Brody Dalle (Distillers); then of course

there’s All The Drugs which is,surprisingly, the one about drugs with the brilliant line “I have played with fire/And the matches are still burning in my hand.” It’s the lyrics which save this album from being a carbon copy of Celebrity Skin and it’s the only aspect that she didn’t get any help with (the music was co-written with six other people).

So Courtney’s not exactly solo,and the album isn’t really new,but who cares? Noel Gallagher’s been re-writing Oasis songs and getting away with it for years and he doesn’t even have nice tits.

Anthony Lloyd

Locket Full Of Moonlight Fundamental

Locket Full Of Moonlight isn’t the most inspiring title for a frankly uninspiring album. Sadly,people stopped listening to this bland country pap when the last tumbleweed blew through the wild west. Collee's (supposedly) trademark slurring whine is guaranteed to suck the life out of you quicker than you can turn this off before the close of the opening title track. If you ever wish excruciating pain on someone,buy them this for their birthday. Sam Coare

Waiting Fundamental

Hoekstra's self-recorded fifth album is accomplished Nashville Americana featuring mostly guitar,vocals, and keyboards. It has one great song in Sunday Blues, and two very good,lyrically moving songs in Theresa and Crawling Out From Under,all sounding like a mellow Jim White. Unfortunately the rest of the album consists of samey,poorer versions of these. Relaxing background music,but it begins to try the patience somewhat. David Ford

They Died For Beauty Virgin

New Bristol band Ilya produce a brooding,foreboding set of smooth Mediterranean influenced vignettes. Admittedly,they could soundtrack nine Galaxy ads,but the perverseness of the track Heavenly being as dark as Michael Howard juxtaposed with the jolliness of plucked banjo strings elsewhere

COURTNEY LOVE

DOUG HOEKSTRA

provides enough variation to awaken the interest of jazz,folk and easy listening fans alike. With so much unsophisticated,throwaway music out there,Ilya deserve our ears. RobTelford

PRESTON SCHOOL OF INDUSTRY

Monsoon

Domino

Monsoon is the second album from former Pavement guitarist Scott Kannberg and with it he has finally been able to escape the legend of his former band. From the beginning of The Furnace Sun you can hear how he is much more comfortable with his own voice,while Caught In The Rain is a country-pop song which shows a more relaxed attitude compared to the tension of debut All This Sounds Gas. It’s not all country though,as Get Your Crayons Out! retains the some of the strange guitar noise that was always his signature. Anthony Lloyd

Calling Out Of Context

Rough Trade

Hugely influential,but commercially overlooked Arthur Russell - cellist,Buddhist and New York musical genius - crafted some of the finest post-punk dance tracks in the mid-80s. Calling Out Of Context compiles 12 of his unreleased solo works,dreamlike and abstract yet filled with catchy hooks and melodies. Capturing the early 80s sparse electronics of Joy Division and adding the folksy songwriting of Nick Drake tracks like You And

Me Both and Arm Around You are both alien and warming at the same time. While not as immediately accessible as the recent World Of Arthur Russell best of compilation, Calling Out Of Context is a fascinating document of a true innovator. Highly recommended. Andy Parsons

SPIRITUALIZED

The Complete Works: Volume II Dedicated

Complete Works chronologically presents all Spiritualized’s non-LP tracks. This idea is fine in theory,but makes for a frustrating listen. A dreamy EP from 1995 apart,CD1 exclusively comprises versions of songs from their masterpiece, Ladies And Gentlemen... All great stuff, but who wants to actually listen to three versions of the beautiful,but emotionally draining, Broken Heart? More a service to the fans

THE STILLS

Albums 21

The Stills: Obviously ecstatic to be the “best sounding band recently to be signed”

get your foot tapping,it is actually hard to criticise anything about this album; The Stills are the best sounding band recently to be signed. The music is simply great,I strongly recommend you get this.

This album is amazing. The Stills are a new group from the States,and should be known here soon. Full of all kinds of gentle rock; with each song catchy enough to

Barry Thompson

VARIOUS

Fabriclive mixed by DJ Spinbad Fabric

New York DJ Spinbad mixes 27 hip-hop classics into one lengthy mix. Think Soulwax's As Heard on Radio Soulwax Vol 2 but with more beats. Featuring tracks by MOP,Ol' Dirty Bastard,The Sugarhill Gang and Run DMC,these are essentially the best and dirtiest hip-hop tracks of the last 20 years. Though not particularly original this is nonetheless enough to keep your ass jigging if hiphop is your tipple of choice.

Craig Driver

THE VEILS

The Runaway Found RoughTrade

Libertines fans approach with caution; yes they’re on Rough Trade,and some of their songs are produced by Bernard Butler,but that is where the similarities end. Mellow indie-rock fans however,rejoice! The Veils are here to soundtrack the next disastrous event in your life. Ta-ra,Damien Rice.

Jon Davies

Spiritualized’s Jason Pierce: In full drag

than a primer for newbies.

Chris Griffin

Logic WillBreak Your Heart Vice

ARTHUR RUSSELL

Live 22

NME AWARDS TOUR 2004: FUNERAL FOR A FRIEND THE RAPTURE THE VON BONDIES FRANZ FERDINAND

Great Hall,Cardiff

Sunday 8 February

February isn’t known for being much of a party month. But as the moshers and indie kids queue for this gig, expectation is morphing into palpable excitement. Jesus,even the NME could report this atmosphere straight up; no need for their usual blend of breathless hype and bullshit: this is really happening.

And it’s not surprising really. This line-up comprises four of the most discussed bands of recent months. Everyone Quench knows just loves Franz Ferdinand,and secretly wants them to upstage the others. They meld Gang Of Four and Blondie to thrilling effect,with clanging guitar lines appearing from nowhere and needling around art-disco beats. When Take Me Out begins everyone wets their pants in anticipation. It’s not often that an audience will get excited about a song slowing down,but then it’s

not often that an indie tune mutates into a pounding monster of funk-rock fun.

The battered,blood-splattered face of Jason from The Von Bondies has been ubiquitous recently. Will he slag off his attacker,Jack White? Instead, Jason hollers at us soullessly,while an unbroken wall of guitar noise rages in the background,utterly obscuring any melodies,harmonies,or,er,anything really. C’mon C’mon bounces along with zeal,but the kids are miffed.

The blazing and colourful sound of The Rapture blows away all the dust and darkness,and when we recover from the shock,we find ourselves transported to a 1989 warehouse party in Detroit. This is guitar-cowbellrave,and it’s amazing; as the band build on their kinetic, hypnotic groove it real-

spell,but all is forgotten as Sister Saviour segues euphorically into House Of Jealous Lovers. It’s a moment Primal Scream would have been proud of.

As the indie kids scarper to Barfly, millions of teeny moshers appear to Funeral For A Friend. Tonight the band have the conviction,and the sheer visceral power,to demonstrate exactly why they are so revered. They’re explosive and dynamic,and it’s suddenly clear what a great idea it was to mix up the yearning melancholy of emo with the drama and chugging riffs of old-metal. As the mighty Juneau roars to a close,everyone is on their side,fists aloft,screaming for Chewie

Photos:Tim Alban

Know your NMEs (clockwise from below): The Rapture’s Luke Jenner; Franz’s Alex on and backstage; a Von Bondies/Rapture keyboard love-in; Jase Von Bondie and his (intact) face

Photos: Tim Alban

The CoalExchange,Cardiff

Friday 6 February

The Keys offer pleasant background music for an audience ready to get psychedelicised. Unfortunately,they fail to overcome the sum of their Byrds-and-others influences. It is a shame when Pink Floyd’s Lucifer Samâ is the highlight from a band that should aim to stand on its own merits.

Arthur Lee is a living embodiment of 60s garage psychedelia. Convinced he would die before the age of 26,he

felt forced to write Forever Changes, his definitive statement. It is a great relief,then,to see this West Coast icon approaching 60 and still capable of hitting the right notes.

He once claimed that Jagger stole everything from him; and while the Stone has everlasting agility these days,Lee commands more awe from his UK fanbase.

Eschewing last year’s orchestra, Lee’s band are a basic five-piece, proving that punk does have roots: Nuggets-era garage rock. Every song (hits arbitrarily picked from a list) blisters with energy. The Red Telephone is perfectly executed,while Seven And

Seven Is arrives as a Coral’s fantasy. Even the new Rainbow In The Storm is fine,and not the bagpipe-led horror unveiled last year.

Not all is bliss. Lee’s famous arrogance shows when a fan likens him to “the Hand Of God”. Graciously,this awestruck kid is allowed to touch the hand before we are told this is true. Awkward,yet Lee believes his best is still to come. Until proven,he can continue touring,cashing in on past glories. Hell,the Stones have been doing it for years. Jason Draper

SPIRITUALIZED + ROCKET GOLDSTAR

Great Hall,Cardiff

Saturday 31 January

Tonight draws a surprisingly small crowd,positively tiny when Rocket Goldstar take the stage. They appear to enjoy themselves nonetheless, entertaining the crowd with a selection of big poppy rock songs,psychedelically marrying The Auteurs and The Darkness.

At 21:00 the lights dim,and an eerie noise pervades the room. Four minutes later out walk Spiritualized, who stand still for another minute before the strobes flash brightly and the familiar chords of Electricity ring out. This,like the rest of their set,is done in their latter day style: garage rock with an orchestral slant. A varied selection is played,highlights including Come Together and Lord Let It Rain. Sat stage left,Jason Pierce utters not a word,instead playing continuously for two hours,climaxing in a combination of blinding strobe lighting and loud distortion which feels like Stanley Kubrick directing the apocalypse. Not the truly amazing spectacle you feel they should be,but damn fine nonetheless. David Ford

ALFIE

Barfly,Cardiff

Friday 30 January

The usual clamour of a Friday evening at Barfly threatened to upstage the third night of Alfie’s tour: the band provide excellent background music to a gathering that no doubt talks over the album at home as well. This is because that is what Alfie are best at, inoffensive,melodious indie rock that is best described as the on-stage setup of a 1970s front room of brown

he’s a genius Photo:Tim Alban

and orange curtains,floral patterns and a lampshade,all of which gives a warm glow that does to the eye what Alfie do to the ears. With the addition to the ensemble of a cello,trumpet and harmonica,the set is broadened enough to keep the attention of most of the crowd. Protracted sees the band in comfortable time,a better suited rhythm,which is useful for their next single,but the standout performance was Hey Mole which contributed the only successfully cathartic chorus of the set to challenge the resonance of a boisterous Cardiff collective.

Rob Plastow

Thursday 5 February

Even without Craig Macintosh’s Dexy’s-shaped yelping,the spectre of the 1980s hangs over Dogs Die In Hot Cars’ set. Their pitfalls are clear: the shockingly bad name doesn’t get any better with time and the rest of the band lack any presence. But they always seem on the verge of writing a Come On Eileen or Train In Vain,and for that they’re definitely ones to watch.

The Zutons’ sax player takes off her shoes before starting to play – it’s an indication of the bohemian,looselimbed 40 minutes ahead. Rocking gloriously Scouse tunes over arrangements that Captain Beefheart would doff his hat to,The Zutons scare off Coral comparisons with blasts of dissonant soul and howling,funky pop. Unpredictable instrumentation,sweat, dirty sax and solid songwriting – The Zutons have it all. Mat C

staples like Ms Moriarty and I Can’t Believe You’re Gone suddenly sound so much more than mere indie pogo soundtracks,standing tall when stripped down to the very Y-fronts. Truly,these boys have got soul.

Jamie Fullerton

JARCREW

Clwb Ifor Bach

Saturday 31 January

Jarcrew look like every snot-caked nerd you ever stole dinner money from. Drummer Rod could be Frodo’s runt cousin; guitarist Tom is basically a hunchback; and bassist/guitarist Rich is ginger. And wears glasses. Then there’s front ‘man’ Kellson; think Iggy Pop with an onion shaped head, slap bang in the middle of a national Gillette shortage.

Soon enough the band crackle into Paris And The New Math,which sounds like a Harrier jump jet taking off. Rod’s snare drum gunfire shoots it down,and Kellson bellows a chorus: "Green light…. SATELLITE!" Who

Live 25

knows what the hell it means,but Onion Head yells it with such raucous conviction that we know it’s something bloody important.

Sliding like Jagger,he snakes through the crowd like a human slinky; pounding chests and dripping sweat on the minions like some sort of geek-Christ.

Not for Jarcrew a substance free rock assault though: each song is a speedball of rampant Pixies guitars, clever Martian keyboards and heavy, heavy bass-gloom,with kick-drum knockouts that each sound like an obese corpse hitting the deck. And just to throw us off track,halfway through the set the ‘Crew churn up a hazy disco funk high that sounds as natural as the bellow-led battle cries.

The future of rock? Why not? But fuck tomorrow: Jarcrew are right here, right now. And they want their dinner money back. Jamie Fullerton

Monday 2 February

Chicagoans The Webb Brothers seem to have found a second home in Cardiff. Here there are floors to kip on, rehearsal rooms to muscle in on,and the Orangeboom flows as freely as the putrid soft water.

Tonight they begin a three-bro tour (fewer plane tickets,y’see) showcasing the mellow moments of their career so far. It’s the newer stuff that really massages the heart; I’ve Been Waiting’s bliss tinged humming; Just As Sweet’s sombre guitar swoon brilliance. But the Webbs aren’t afraid of showing off their depth – former trucker cap pop

Clwb Ifor Bach

Clwb Ifor Bach

Scouse party: The Zutons funk up the Clwb Photo: Simon Shoulders

It’s time to step into the exciting world of contemporary literature with this week’s book reviews

TEXT MESSAGES

Andrew Wilson Smith/Doorstop Books

It was inevitable, wasn’t itthat texting mania should seep into the arts?

Andrew Wilson’s collection,oh so originally entitled Text Messages, comprises “poems”, each with 160 characters or less. Credit to Wilson for attempting to freshen up an interest poetry when,for many of us,the desperation to understand the technicalities of stanzas and enjambement and assonance and... leads us to overlook what a poem is actually saying. Post-GCSE poetry is often

“We write our names: in traces on the dark; on flat,wet sand; in breath on windowpanes.”

While there is a warm nostalgic feel to this,the connection between it and a text message is obscure. The format of these do not promote a new genre of poetry,but trespasses on other short genres such as haiku. None of the lines struck me as memorable or particularly humourous. So,sve the fver ths bk csts & spnd it on yr fone bll. Kim Lyon

of arresting images,recognisable literary fragments,and flowing phrases that reads like a cynical old man turning out the light after his youth,after the bedtime story has finished,waiting for the monsters to climb out from beneath the bed and yank him back to childhood.

Catherine Cornish

Irene Rawnsley Smith/Doorstop Books

This is the stuff of kids’ stories. Dragons,nightmares,wolves,and mud pies litter Catherine Fisher’s collection of poetry, Folklore. As a novelist for children she employs the horror that grownups forget lies at the edges of children’s books. She injects the morphine-like terror

intended to be serious,or fun; lines such as “I count my breaths,like sheep” exemplify what I read as one of several poor attempts at poignancy. Or just randomness. That said,some of the visual imagery is splendid. Take the opening poem, Sparklers:

bed into the veins

adds to the cocktail an extra twist of adult cynicism and irony. Fisher draws the reader in with the accusatory ‘you’ of her second person narrative and her soothing and subtle half rhymes.

The themes are conventional; love,death and time,yet they are conveyed through Fisher’s skilfully loaded imagery of toads,towers and treasure. She is consciously postmodern with fragments of stories,folklore and fairytales. A parallel could be drawn with the work of the award-winning Angela Carter,particularly Carter’s collection of short stories The Bloody Chamber. Fisher’s collection of poetry is a carefully constructed patchwork

Rawnsley resembles Philip Larkin inasmuch as her poetry is extremely easy to interpret: she is probably one of the most accessible poets to read. Her terminology is simple and her concepts easily recognisable. However,this does not detract from the emotion that some of her poems voice is almost colloquial,highly intimate

The content is heartfelt and easy to relate to,such as the death of her father who is no longer there to lift her out of her sandpit.

most human beings: deep regret,passing time and the loss of love. Her cultural reference points range from Radio One to Ulysses. Her voice is believable because it is simple and unpretentious. However,in places this leads to monotony,where the tone of her poetry lacks a spark to differentiate it from the reams of modern day free verse. Yet Rawnsley compensates with a particularly subtle wit. Close your eyes for just a second and you will miss it.

Catherine Cornish

Catherine Fisher Smith/Doorstop Books

FOLKLORE

Books 27 Legends of the page!

It’s back by popular demand.This fortnight, Perri Lewis takes a trip with Bill Bryson

Born in Des Moines,Iowa in 1951, Bryson has lived both sides of the Atlantic. His education at Drake University was brought to a halt when he dropped out to take a job in a mental asylum during a vacation to Britain. During the two decades he lived here he wrote for The Times and The Independent; he also produced some exceptional travel material. His time here inspired one of his most popular books, Notes From A Small Island

An autobiographical piece,it documents his many experiences of Britain where he mostly condemns the aesthetics of our architecture and our incapability to design high streets in keeping with the local style. While this description may not cause a stir,you really do have to read his work to believe how remarkable it actually is. An especially invigorating aspect of Bryson’s writing is the fact he isn’t a

typical “oh-my-god-I-simply-lurve-thiscountry” type of American. He doesn’t gush sycophantic spiels about our

country: he likes what he likes and he says what he means.

His return to the US in 1995 lead him to published Notes From A Big Country (sold in America as I’m A

Stranger Here Myself: Notes On Returning To America After 20 Years Away) and he now lives in Hanover, New Hampshire with his family where he continues to write.

Witty anecdotes and dry humour characterise Bryson’s travel novels; he recounts personal experience with biting drollery and at times it is difficult to swallow a giggle. His other work includes A Walk In The Woods,and Neither Here Nor There: Travels in Europe. More recently he has turned his hand to writing other genres and A Short History Of Everything is a scientific compendium which is actually able to engage its readers. Like all of Bryson's work it is a pleasure to read.

Stephanie Fuller rails against children’s literature

In today’s money-grabbing society every man,woman,and publisher is out for all the money they can lay their hands on. It is not surprising then,to see the lengths some publishers will go to sell more books. Huge marketing campaigns are arranged,authors go on tour like the proverbial pop stars they wish they were attractive enough to be,and some publishing houses even release some of their children’s books twice under two different covers,just in an attempt to make more dough! And no,they don’t expect to fool kids into thinking they’re going to buy two dif-

ferent books of the same title. The publishers expect adults - yes,rational upstanding members of the community like our very selves - to see the title of a book that they recognise as obviously having being written for 12-year-olds and buy it just because it’s been repackaged in a fancy threecolour-minimalist ‘grown-up’ style paperback edition. I’d like to think that nobody would be so foolish as to fall for this ludicrous piece of capitalist trickery,but sadly the book-reading public has disappointed me once again.

I have avoided naming and shaming so far,but the most obvious example is that most lucrative of nonliterary literature: the Harry Potter series. If children want to escape the drudgery of their young lives by imagining they’re wizards,fair enough,but for a grown man or woman to read this tripe and vote it as one of the 100 best books ever is absurd. Far worse,many of the Potter-reading population like to boast about how quickly they can read: “Oh,it only took me three days to read all 700 pages!” Well,what do you expect when the intended reading age is

10? But credit has to go to good old JK; she has managed to keep on churning out story after story,and is still raking it in from kids and grownups alike. And no one seems to care that adults are reading books from the carpeted play-area section of their local library – if you saw a businessperson reading an episode from The Famous Five,you’d think s/he had some sort of problem. If only Enid had had the foresight to release a classy grown-up cover for all of her books,maybe we could all sit around and read about Fanny and Dick and that oh-so-deconstructed cross-dresser George without feeling like idiots. What the public needs (aside from someone to tell them what exactly it is that they need) is to read something of substance,something which gives back the reader a sense of achievement and hence satisfaction after having worked their way through a few of the English language’s complexities. This article would make a good start – as for my excessive use of alliteration and other such literary devices,I can give only the excuse that it’s for your own good,you readers of rubbish kids’ books!

So it’s another fortnight of theatre and culture in the Welsh capital and eclectic is definitely the word.Whatever floats your boat,from gangsters to circus acts,from Hayley Mills to a gritty show from our very own Act One,there’s something in these pages for your fancy...

Not such a humble show

New Theatre

What do bumble bees and string theory have in common? No, not an obscure physicists’ joke,but a genuine question raised by Humble Boy. Things go from bad to worse for Felix Humble (Hugh Sachs), who has returned to his mother Flora’s (Hayley Mills) house for his fathers’ funeral. Flora has got rid of his father’s beloved bees (yet the buzzing still plagues him). She has also been having an affair with his exgirlfriend Rosie’s father. Rosie (Carla Lang) then pops up complete with unsuspected daughter. And the frus-

trated neighbour Mercy (Brigit Forsyth) has done something unspeakable to the soup. It sounds a bit like a soap opera plot,but all the poor man wants to do is have a landmark breakthrough on the notion of string theory, in order to unite quantum mechanics and Einstein’s general theory of relativity. The writers of EastEnders would have a hard time working that into the plot.

Humble Boy is a strong play with an excellent cast. Hayley Mills is billed as the star,and she carries the main role of Flora well,but the best performance is from John Burgess (of Brookside fame) as Jim. His understated performance was perfect,and his gentle character the ideal foil for the brashness of George Pye (Paul

Hecht) and the selfishness of Flora. The intriguing plot develops amid a very lush set as relationships crumble and tentatively rebuild themselves. The superb cast portray the diverse and often eccentric characters beautifully,without descending into pantomime. The dialogue packs a lot into the span of the play. Some of the humour is black to say the least, some might say tasteless,but it is carried off well. A few plot twists later and some resolution is achieved,but only enough to be realistic: no forced happy endings here. And yet it is very satisfying to watch as the not-entirelylikeable characters undergo many convolutions to arrive at a degree of selfrealisation. A subtle and thought-provoking production. Laura Tovey

Royal Welsh College of Music and Drama

Silver Johnny is the latest singing sensation to come out of Ezra’s Atlantic,a seedy bar in 1950s Soho. His success could provide two of the bar’s workers,Potts and Sweets,with the big break they’ve

Mojo only succeeded on the basis of the energy and commitment that went into staging the performance

always been looking for. However, when a deal between Ezra,the bar’s owner,and a local “businessman” falls through,Silver Johnny goes missing and the boss turns up dead. Each of the characters in this play was brought to life by a set of actors whose sense of comic timing was both accurate and astute. Tom Swire and Harry Long made an effective double act as the small-time gangsters Potts and Sweets. Swire and Long’s performances showed a great range of ability, their double act providing much of the comedy in the first act. Swire and Long are later joined by Reuben Henry Biggs’s Skinny,the club’s snivelling cleaner. Henry Biggs’s character was a testament to sycophancy,his body language complementing his servile dialogue. Sion Iorweth Pritchard’s performance as Ezra’s son,Baby,was one of the strongest in the play. Shifting

rapidly from moments of lucidity to extreme madness,the actor mixed comedy with a dark and disturbing take on a what was clearly a very complicated character.

Mojo is an all too familiar tale of treachery in gangster land; it’s not particularly original,and is often incredibly difficult to understand. Such is the nature of the plot that it gives a lot of attention to some characters whilst often neglecting others. Michael Anders did his best to bring some individuality to the part of assistant manager Mickey,but was ultimately given little room to manoeuvre by an inflexible and confusing script. Mojo only succeeded on the basis of the energy and commitment that went in to staging the performance. As with a lot of gangster films and plays,it was a typical case of ‘nice performance,shame about the script’. James Walsh-Heron Same

An eclectic mix of the grittiness of poverty and an attempt to shock us with men wearing PVC suits has also been gracing our stages this fortnight

It’s a wonderful life

Act One

Sherman Theatre

ActOne’s production of Jim Cartwright’s Road made for entertaining,if somewhat unsettling viewing. Set on a non-specific British road in the middle of a poverty,riddled housing estate,the play tells a number of separate yet interconnecting stories. All of the action took place against the same stark backdrop of rubbish and discarded furniture,with very minimal need for props or scenery. Many of the encounters between the Road’s rowdy inhabitants were brilliantly enacted. Ceri Murphy delivered a touching and accomplished performance as bemused social chronicler the Professor,while Amy Schroeter perfectly expressed the disorientation and confusion felt by the youth of Road. Many of the individual monologues in Cartwright’s script seemed over long,with the actors often struggling to hold the audience’s attention. The decision to update the play seemed a somewhat peculiar one,as 80s and

present day cultural references mixed a little uncomfortably. However,the dark,uncomfortable humour that punctuated the play perfectly reflected the desperation felt by the characters living below the poverty line. Road’s gritty rollercoaster ride of violence,sex, alcohol and vomit was by no means easy viewing. However,Act One put on an accomplished and formidable show which saw the audience leave impressed,but with a nasty taste in their mouths.

Maria Thomas

Not such a scary circus

CIRCUS OF HORRORS

Since its successful debut at Glastonbury ‘95,the Circus of Horrors has been touring the UK with promises of “rock’n’roll”,an “Alice in Horrorland” story and “daring and bizarre circus acts”. Sounds good,doesn’t it? However,in reality, the promised “rock’n’roll” in fact turned out to comprise the most horrific versions of classics such as The Monster Mash that I have ever heard; in fact,some small screechy child yelling out I Will Survive was almost preferable to listening to the protagonist of the production. As for the story itself,it was virtually nonexistent.

However,efforts were redeemed by the stunts. There were a few entertaining oddities: a man with stretchy skin,a contortionist,a sword swallower,acrobats,and a woman who was actually suspended

by her hair. (Thank god she wasn’t having a bad hair day.)

Unfortunately,these interesting acts were undermined by the way in which the show was padded out with old,traditionally boring tricks such as sawing a person in a box in half. The production attempted to be controversal and included many crude jokes. For example,a woman who could hang jugs from her ‘jugs’ and welders with sparking dicks.

This all sounds very amusing,but by the second half,the jokes had become repetitive,making the show as tacky as ‘Miss Electra’ and her PVC nurse outfit. In fact,seeing the overjoyed teenage boy in front of me using his binoculars as Miss Electra used her nipple as a lighter was more amusing than the show itself. What’s more,while there was more than enough eye candy on display for the blokes,it was somewhat limited for the girls - somehow a lanky guy in a PVC nurse dress just isn’t attractive!

Overall,the Circus of Horrors

Somehow a lanky guy in a PVC nurse dress just isn’t attractive

doesn’t live up to the opening song of being ‘the greatest show on earth.’ If you do decide to ignore my advice and go,expect a cheap laugh and please don’t take your mother!

Debbie Green

New Theatre

Lights, cameo, action!

talk of “Hot lesbian witches! Think about it; it’s genius!” And it is,

The rest of the film is total ball cribbage but the opening scene is one of the funniest in recent memory. Starting out like Mission: Impossible, all slick credits and pounding music, we soon discover that… wait a minute that’s Tom Cruise! And that’s Gwyneth Paltrow! And that’s Kevin Spacey! And Danny Devito! And… !

Scene

stealer: Charlie Sheen

Sheen appears playing ‘himself’ as a sex addicted party animal and Malkovich’s best friend in Spike Jonze’s mentalist debut. Greeting each other with the names ‘Malcatraz’ and ‘Machine’ is funny enough,but the clincher is Sheen’s

Dir:Gus Van Sant

Cast:Alex Frost,Eric Deulen,Elias McConnell

GusVan Sant is a strange kinda director. One minute he’s breaking your heart with My Own Private Idaho,the next he’s shooting for the conservative mainstream with pap like Finding Forrester or remaking Psycho. But in a career littered with troughs, Elephant is a peak.

The story is almost non-existent for much of the film; instead,we follow the students of a typical US high school on an average day. The actors playing the students,mostly using their real names,give honest,naturalistic and semi-improvised performances. The camerawork is intrusive

The Coens’ funniest film also contains their funniest and most memorable minor character; John Turturro’s bowling pederast Jesus. Set to a fla-

menco version of Hotel California, Jesus’ entry into the movie is one of the funniest in cinema. Plus he gets the best line: “You pull any of your crazy shit with us,you flash your piece out on the lanes… I’ll take it away from you and stick it up your ass and pull the fucking trigger till it goes ‘click’.”

Scene stealers: Bruce Campbell and the Macho Man,Randy Savage

Any film which manages to squeeze in cameo appearances from both Evil Dead’s Bruce Campbell and WWF wrestling ‘legend’ Macho Man Randy Savage in the same scene deserves some credit. In the bit where Spidey enters a wrestling match to earn some extra cash to buy a flash motor to impress Mary Jane,Campbell appears as the ring announcer (“The Human Spider? Man,that sucks”) while the Macho Man appears as his opponent,the wrestler Bonesaw.

to a degree we haven’t seen since Kubrick,a comparison enforced by the way the camera stalks the actors from a few feet behind. Van Sant’s technical skills are impressive too; the use of ambient noise,subtle camera effects and shots which go on just a little too long all amount to a disorientating experience.

The characters are slight yet well drawn,but the film is more concerned with the atmosphere of the school itself. We get to know its corridors,classrooms and canteen so that when the terrible event occursif you don’t know what it is,I won’t spoil it - the chaos of these locations is all the more shocking.

Long after the shocks of the third act are over, Elephant will leave you feeling numb,shocked and confused. In a good way.

Scene stealers: Everyone,ever.

Scene stealer: John Turturro

Dir:Richard Linklater

SCHOOL OF ROCK Film

Cast:Jack Black,Joan Cusack,Mike White

Rus his latest venture: featuring Tenacious D frontman Jack Black. Black plays guitarist Dewey Finn whose failed stage-diving antics and “20-minute face-melting guitar solos” get him thrown out of his band. He ends up teaching a talented group of school kids to,as he says,“drink from the goblet of rock”.

A volcanic performance by Black ensures the laughs keep coming, and an excellent rock soundtrack featuring The Who,Led Zeppelin and The Ramones among others, will have you blowing the dust off your old air guitar and tapping your feet like a crack-smoking Fred Astaire.

There are other strong performances from Joan Cusack and the rock star students: a surprise since they are classically trained musicians and not

Share and share alike

Filesharing software is great.Y’know, only for downloading stuff you already own. Gareth Lloyd investigates

Something for nothing; why,it’s the American dream,isn’t it? Not if you work for the Recording Industry Association of America or Microsoft,it

BitTorrent

http://bitconjurer.org/BitTorrent http://www.suprnova.org

This newest addition to the filesharing family works a little differently to its contemporaries. Browse the net to find a ‘pointer’ to the file you want,and let the application organize the download from there. It’s an efficient system, but you’ve got to nab the files before they disappear forever. It’s also an ideal system for sharing episodes of TV shows; you can even get the latest EastEnders

Best for: Large files,new TV shows and movies

Soulseek

http://www.slsknet.org/

Areal

gem for music fans,this one: a clunky interface belies a vast range of music,both popular and underground,and mostly sorted by artist and album. Very reliable,too; a $5 fee secures faster download speeds.

Best for: Music,music and more music. No contest.

IRC

http://www.mirc.com/

isn’t. We’ve braved the hordes of rabid attack lawyers to bring you our guide to the very best filesharing software. And,before we forget,NO ILLE-

GAL ACTIVITES WERE PERFORMED IN THE MAKING OF THIS ARTICLE. Capisce? We’re clean,Daddy-o.

`Kazaa

This is your typical filesharing setup; you search the network and download files directly from other people’s hard drives. There are plenty of users and masses of content available,from software to music to movies. However. the whole process can be very unreliable; although a search might turn up a bundle of results, only a handful will actually work. Even fewer of those will actually transmit at a respectable speed. Also be wary of the official version,which is full of adverts and spyware. Look for a hacked version known as K-Lite Resurrection.

Best for: individual/specific songs and files.

The seedy underbelly of the ‘net, IRC is used mostly for chat‘n’ cybersex,but it’s also full of users sharing files. Using it is a minefield of frustration and geek bait. However,the download speeds are among the fastest possible.

Best for: Hardcore users.

The use of any of these applications,is,of course,entirely at your own risk. Besides the dubious legal and ethical issues involved,there’s also the chance that you might end up with a virus for your troubles. And Quench does not in any way endorse or recommend the use of these appli-

cations to download stuff you don’t own. Step out of line,and the RIAA will hang you and your laundry out to dry...

Sonic heroes

Oncethere was a little blue spinning hedgehog called Sonic. He came,he saw,and he pretty much conquered the hearts and twiddling thumbs of gaming fans throughout the globe. Then came the evil bigwigs of computer land with their 3D environments and multi-layered tactics. Try as he might Sonic could not survive in such a land and was cast aside to the shadowy doldrums with his animal friends Donkey Kong and Chucky Egg. For years he lay dormant: a faint memory of simpler times. Well now that cheeky speedster is back in the guise of Sonic Heroes. It's always a little worrying when an icon such as Sonic has to be resold as collective package of characters rather than the

astute individual he once was. Nevertheless the game attempts to revive Sonic from his slumber with some neat and well-designed graphics. The make-up of the game adheres to the original platform concept and as such is fast,colourful,and simplistic. You can choose from a variety of different teams: team Sonic,team Dark, and team Chaotix. As you run around like a schizophrenic whirlwind you must rotate your team members in order to overcome particular challenges. You still have to collect rings and you still have to bash the evil Dr Robotnik. The only serious flaw the game has is that at times you don’t really feel in control. You only really need to move in one direction,for-

Digital snippets

So,there’s a new Nintendo handheld thing on the way, apparently. Uncryptically monikered the DS,it’s got,like Dual Screens,man. Because, erm,two screens are always better than one,aren’t they? We’ve got our fingers crossed that the Big N has some rather natty ideas in store for use with this setup,because on paper it just doesn’t sound like the most mind blowing innovation,does it? Still: give me Tetris on one screen and some hardcore bondage porn on the other and I’m a happy man.

PS3:

R@RE! Wow! Last week, some entrepreneurial Ebayer managed to get hold of the very latest in black market technology: a

pre-release PlayStation3! And was letting it go for the bargain price of 800 bucks. It sort of restores our faith in humanity in a way,though,because no sod was dumb enough to bid on the damned thing. Man,we’d have loved to have heard about the poor idiot who ordered this piece of advanced futuretech,only to receive a C64,or perhaps a box of paperclips.

Halo 2 and Half-Life 2 have both been officially delayed until the summer,with rumours abound that neither may surface until this autumn. It’s probably for the best,isn’t it? This way perhaps I can spend July and August getting some

Wow! A new brand of sweets based around a blue hedgehog? Craig Driver’s childhood memories are shattered by this PS2 title

wards,and when moving at breakneck speeds it sometimes removes personal involvement and becomes no more than a colourful kaleidoscope of scenery. This is a game ultimately orientated towards young teenagers and as such deserves to be successful. For me though,an old admirer of Sonic and his little rings,they should have allowed Sonic to rest in peace. His time has gone and we should all learn to accept his demise.

Remember him fondly with love and affection. His influence lives on today in countless games and for that alone we should be thankful. If only we could all be 12 again and worry about nothing more than bouncing our way to a hundred rings. If only we could all be young, innocent and sober once more. It seems times have changed and regrettably so must we… damn, damn, damn!

sun on my pasty white flesh,rather than ensconced in my darkened hovel, twitching feverishly in front of a flickering screen.

Going out

We’ve all got our regular haunts,but this week why not make the effort to try somewhere different? Those places you always walk past but have never ventured into - well,we’ve explored them.

Millennium Plaza

Most of you Risa and Jumpin’ Jaks fans will probably have shunned Surfers many a time as you stumble into your regular Wednesday night haunts but don’t be fooled into thinking there’s nothing to please you inside. The bouncers will try to tempt you in by offering free entry and a promise of very,very cheap drinks! Surfers is one of the cheapest places to go on a Friday night,house spirits are £1 and most bottles are £1.50. Grab hold of a flyer and you’ll get in free!

So why not give in to them and give it a try,even if it’s only for a rest while the queues to Risa die down. Drinks are cheap and there’s a huge dance floor with plenty of space to shake your thang! There’s not much to be disappointed about with Surfers - it’s a cheap,fun club but for some reason isn’t often talked about. It seems that it’s outshined by its neighbours Risa and Jaks but why not have a look anyway - you might find you’ve been missing something all this time.

Katy Davies

could almost been somebody’s front room. But this cosy atmosphere is in keeping with the feel of the eaterie that does its best to make you feel at home. The décor is similarly pleasant with white fairy lights strung around the room giving the whole place a warm glow. Posh it most certainly is not,although it could never be called a greasy spoon.

But no matter how nicely attired the dining area is,the proof of the pudding is in the eating, and the Greenhouse certainly doesn’t disappoint in this area. Anybody hoping for a large steak has come to the wrong place,as the food is mainly vegetarian with a few fish dishes thrown in (presumably for that strange breed who have decided that fish doesn’t constitute meat). The menu,while limited,had the sort of class you’d expect to pay double for. The main course offered a choice between grilled salmon,peppers stuffed with olives and courgettes and Pad Thai noodles,all of which were heartedly consumed by our group and succeeded in filling us up while offering delicious taste sensations.

ed us with a few bargain bevvies. Guzzle away the £1 flavoured shots, or if you’re a less hardcore drinker mix them with lemonade for your own cocktail. Ask the helpful bar staff what’s on offer each night; Silver Wkd is only a quid on Thursdays and makes a change from Smirnoff Ice or Java (Solus’s poor excuse for an alcopop!).

The first noticeable thing about this unpretentious restaurant is how small it is. Looking through the greenhouselike windows at the front,this place

It was difficult not to be tempted by the tomato and olive oil bruschetta or banoffee pie; the main reason was the price,which starts at £9.95 for a single dish and increases up to £16.95 for the full three. But before you all start nervously fingering your wallets,I can assure you the food more than justifies the price. With the menu changing weekly and all produce brought in locally,and a good lunchtime menu too,this is an excellent place for a slightly different night out,a casual meal or even to impress loved ones or relatives. Gary Andrews

OZ BAR

112 St Mary Street

If you need a stop on your way to Jaks or Risa then you might want to pop into Oz Bar for one. It may not be the busiest or most student-packed of the St Mary Street bars but it provid-

However for those music junkies who aren’t just interested in a cheap piss-up,Oz Bar offers two floors of eclectic music and the odd gig upstairs. Think The Toucan but take away the relaxing candlelit atmosphere.

We wouldn’t recommend Oz Bar for a long stay but it breaks up the walk into town for you girlies in killer heels and men too macho to take coats in this icy weather. There’s not much else you can in fact say about Oz Bar; it’s not new or trendy but hey,it’s cheap - ‘nuff said.

Lisa Walkley and Jenny Duxbury

Does anyone read this bit? If you do a review for us you can blag discounted meals and free entry to clubs! Go on...

Email: grmagazine@cf.ac.uk

38 Woodville Road

SURFERS @ walkabout

THE GREENHOUSE

Photo: Lisa Walkley

Respect in retrospect

BOB DYLAN

Blonde On Blonde (1966)

Columbia

Bob Dylan’s switch from lone guitarist to what is best described as a musical alchemist harnessing electric guitars and a band amid a swirl of amphetamine-fuelled imagery and layers of noise divided fans. By this album’s release,he came closest to achieving that famed “wild mercury sound” in his head.

What makes this sound so perfect is the untamed rawness of the session musicians around him from whom,unrehearsed,he extracts the best. Nobody sings Dylan like himself,nor has such urgency and diction. The Salvation Army-style cacophony which accompanies the immortal “everybody must get stoned!” refrain only adds to the emphatic warning that we all get our dues. Visions Of Johanna is possibly the most beautiful song Dylan recorded,with the spectral image of Johanna merely haunting the periphery. Equally, Sad Eyed Lady Of The Lowlands ,a hymn to wife Sara,is an understated epic in music. Only someone with Dylan’s genius could sustain its 11 minutes.

Just Like A Woman is,along with Positively 4th Street,one of Dylan’s greatest put-downs. Annoyed by one, he chastises all in a vitriolic outburst. Conversely, I Want You is a wonderfully romantic yearning.

Yes,this album will change your life. Eight years from my first hearing,it is still exhilarating,each song timeless. Regardless of how many knocked-out Loaded s he may release, Blonde On Blonde will forever mark him the genius of music. Reissued on SACD,if you have it, buy it again. If not - yes,this album will change your life.

Jason Draper

RED DWARF OMNIBUS DAZED AND CONFUSED

Grant Naylor (1992) Penguin Books

Described by producers Rob Grant and Doug Naylor as “Steptoe & Son in space,on acid”, Red Dwarf has been a classic TV sitcom for over a decade. Many fans have,however,missed out on a major piece of the Red Dwarf phenomenon. Written by the same producers, Red Dwarf and Better Than Life are two smegging fantastic novels which follow the escapades of Lister et al.

Dir:Richard Linklater (1993)

Cast:Parker Posey,Jason London, Matthew McConaughey,Milla Jovovich

Dazed And Confused is a film about high school kids on the last day of term in 1976 trying to find a way for the day not to suck too much.

The seniors’ aim for the day is to initiate the freshmen into the high school they’ll be attending in September. The freshmen’s aim is to to escape and exact their revenge.

You may have watched every episode and know exactly what lines are coming next,but it’s not until you read these books that you get the full story. They may be based on the contents of the first few series,but it becomes quite clear that the chronicle of Red Dwarf runs much deeper than a couple of hours of tape. Better Than Life,for instance,is transformed from a halfhour show to 236 stomach-ripping pages of comic genius which follows the crew living out their fantasies with hilarious results. The writers also reveal a lot of the history of the sitcom; for example,the philosophical and evolutionary processes which created the Cat are explained in great detail. For many fans who have not seen the earlier series,it offers a much comprehensive idea of what the hell is going on.

Call it a cliché,but if you like the TV series,you’ll love the books. The material Grant and Naylor produce is real laugh-out-loud stuff. The key to its success is that it has been written with the expectation that the reader is familiar with the characters; there is little character building involved. So when an incident involving a disguised Rimmer entering an android brothel is covered, the reader finds it much more entertaining because the episode is so Rimmeresque.

Because the series was never aimed at a highly cultured audience,it’s unlikely that many fans will want to turn to the medium of the novel to get their comical kicks. Nevertheless,I plead with any fan of Red Dwarf who hasn’t read these books to buy,beg or borrow a copy; they will find them so much funnier than they would ever have imagined.

Perri Lewis

The senior boys fashion paddles for themselves and chase the freshman boys around town all night trying to spank the crap out of them. One senior in particular,played by one Ben Affleck, deliberately fails to graduate solely in order to do this again. The girls’ method of initiation,meanwhile,is ritual humiliation. Led by a psychotic Parker Posey (later seen in Best In Show),they order the freshman girls to “fry like bacon, you little freshman piggies!” having been doused with eggs,flour and ketchup,dragged around on dog leads and made to propose to senior boys. Adam (Eddie in Friends) Goldberg’s running commentary in which he questions why the community turns a blind eye on this behaviour is particularly incisive. However,once one realises that writer/director Linklater is actually drawing on his own experiences one begins to worry about middle America’s crazy sadists.

Happily,the action moves on and we meet the gorgeous Matthew McConaughey looking bloody awful in 70s gear,playing a mid-twenties slacker who hangs with high schoolers and seems to be a kindred spirit to the Fonz. He also has the best line in the whole film: “This is why I love highschool girls - I get older,they stay the same age.” Great stuff.

This is a bunch of teenagers doing pretty much what we do now,but with better music and tighter trousers. They get drunk and stoned,try to score with the opposite sex,and complain that the 70s are so much crapper than the 60s, and so the 80s surely must rock. Oh, how little they realised. Gwenllian Thomas

Postcards from France

By Andrew Davidson,Grenoble

Insofar as cars are concerned,the French may as well be American.

When looking to park,it would appear that some sort of three-minute rule is applied: they have to park within three minutes’ strolling dis- tance of their destination. So what? Well,imagine a driving population kerb-crawling the streets of a given radius looking for a parking space. Forever.

Town centres are permanently jammed with people touring a select few streets searching for a vacant space. Similarly,purpose-built car parks rest unused if not located within the given three- minute sphere.

Analogous logic applies to evening adventures. If the likelihood is that a person might have to wait more than three minutes for a tram or bus, then en voiture it is. No matter what the destina- tion in question might be,it’s pretty sure some- body is probably going to be driving. Once a suit- able parking space has been found (allow 15 min- utes,thus the amount of time it would have taken to walk or wait for a tram) decisions have to be

taken.

Up until recently drinking and driving was very much de rigueur, but since November there has been a significant crackdown. So: do you play it cool,have two drinks then get on the coke,or do you play it old school stylee and consume comme d’habitude regardless of your Des(ignated) driver status?

My response if asked whether I’ll drive is a resounding and unfailing "on yer bike mate".

Postcards from Sicily

By Sarah Cummins,Catania

Men might be from Mars and women from Venus,but Italian women seem to be from Pluto. While Italian men are warm, sometimes overly,Italian women can come across as the other extreme. In the six months we have been here, other than our flatmates we have only two close female Italian friends,as they appear much more reserved. While the men are keen to show off their country and be your friend,Italian women take much longer to let you into their circle - but once there you have a good friend.

Italian women do seem to have an obsession with the way we dress though. Before moving to Catania we were told not to dress overly ‘fleshy’ but I never thought they were referring to our feet. In true British style as soon as the sun comes out so do our toes. The neck aches the Italians must get from double taking is unbelievable! On seeing Harnoop’s exposed feet one woman even crossed the road to ask her if she felt cold!

It is guaranteed that if you wear open-toed shoes somebody will make a comment,and this is heightened by the attention we draw as an all female group (a rare sight in Sicily). So when the English girls go out ‘on the town’ with open-toed shoes all hell breaks loose and Sicilian streets come to a standstill as everyone watches our

So,if it’s the attention of an Italian you’re after my advice is invest in a pair

“He talks a good game”

On November 2,2003,Colin Charvis led his defeated Welsh rugby side off the pitch in Sydney to deserved applause. For over an hour Wales had harried, hustled and chased the World Cup favourites New Zealand around the pitch,threatening one of the biggest upsets in the competition’s history,and at the final whistle left the field with heads held high.

For years,pride,passion and dignity have been the saving grace of Welsh sport,defiantly fending off the blushes from countless defeats,and giving the people of Wales an ethic to admire.

But now national football coach Mark Hughes,flanked by the FAW, is threatening to destroy these virtues and leave Wales looking like a bad loser.

Last November,Welsh heartbreak was clear for all to see as tears flooded the Principality after defeat over two legs against Russia ended their hopes of playing in a major championship for the first time since 1958.

But Welsh efforts to see their conquerors Russia – whose midfielder Egor Titov failed a drug test - ejected from the Championships

Dry your eyes Sparky

in Portugal this summer is disgusting.

And this last,desperate throw of the dice is damaging the credibility Wales’ impressive qualifying campaign did so well to restore after years of anonymity on the international scene.

Wales have petulantly branded the under-fire governors of the European game – UEFA – as immoral,and are accusing them of acting “improperly” and favouring the Russians because of ticket sales. Not even ITV’s reality TV department could conjure up that much rubbish.

“Integrity is a prized asset this side of the bridge,but using Titov as a scapegoat for their unspectacular exit from the competition is misinformed even by Comical Ali’s standards”

The case is clear-cut: UEFA rules dictate that if a player is found to have used an illegal substance then only the individual will be penalised and not the national side,yet Wales’ failure to grasp this simple concept is both desperate and frustrating for the supporters.

Integrity is a prized asset this side of the bridge,but using Titov as a scapegoat for their unspectacular exit from the competition is misinformed even by Comical Ali’s standards.

They were outplayed in Moscow and embarrassed in Cardiff,and are doing little beyond casting shame over the nation by crudely trying to shunt aside Russia and sneak in through the back-door to the European Championships.

Sports writer of the year Riath Al-Samarrai calls for Wales to stop whinging

Graceful in defeat they certainly are not.

Football is played on a pitch,not in a courtroom,and the Welsh decision to take this matter to the European sports arbitration body is simply kicking a wounded sport when it’s down.

It has been declared open season for attacks on the game’s ruling bodies,who,in light of their calamitous handling of the Rio Ferdinand drugs affair,have justifiably taken flak. But on this rare occasion,UEFA cannot be criticised because they have acted in accordance with their rules.

A team can not be accountable for the actions of one ill-advised player.

Even amidst the turmoil and various forums on Ferdinand’s fate,not one person sought after the collective blood of Manchester United to pay for one man’s error of judgement,and in this case UEFA have acted correctly by not punishing the entire Russian squad for Titov’s stupidity.

Furthermore,how could Wales demonstrate pride and dignity at a championship they did not qualify to play in? The answer; they couldn’t. Moreover,do they propose a change in legislation that would see the likes of England and Italy –both whom selected players subsequently suspended for drug offences – thrown out of the competition? You suspect not.

UEFA and FIFA already have a monumental task sifting out the inefficient rules and regulations clouding the game,and shouldn’t have to worry about the accurate laws being called into question. It is time Wales stopped making excuses and concentrated on the positives of their European qualification experience.

Righto,please permit me to begin on a personal note. To the person in Clwb who called me a fake Fall fan (and not to my face, either): FUCK OFF,YOU WITHERED, ANAL CUNT! Just because we have slightly different opinions on which are our favourite albums doesn’t give you the right to feel superior and slag me off in front of your friend,who at least had the decency to apologise for your nerdish behaviour. And hey, because I had marginally more important things to do than follow The Fall on tour in a mate’s car – like attending primary school – does not make me some kind of glory supporter. Is there some sort of secret initiation ceremony before you become a proper Fall fan-uh? Do you get paddled and blindfolded while reciting the sacred text The North Will Rise Again? Jesus wept. Why can’t you just be pleased that someone else likes the music that you love? Well,sorry about that,dear readers. Just had to get it off my chest. There’ll be no more mention of The Fall again,ever. Honest.

Now that February is here,and it has become clear that it’s going to be

no different than January in terms of soul-crushing ennui,you may be considering one or more of the diet/detox/cry-for-help features that make up a good deal of copy in these lean times. You might also be wearing a sign reading ‘idiot’ and a dunce’s hat. Don’t be taken in by these charlatans. Is it really possible that their advice will have a universal application,despite the fact that a person’s health and lifestyle is basically dependent on their occupation and environment? Might the rising levels of obesity have something to do with unhealthy food being the cheapest and most convenient? How many people,after finishing their shift,can face preparing a healthy and filling meal when an oven-ready pizza is on hand? Yeah,OK: in theory, but despite what a million lifestyle experts and TV chefs say,this just isn’t a viable option for most people. When you have your own TV series,a cookbook and a syndicated column, it’s very easy to preach the virtues of preparing a decent meal,just as one of those insufferable bores,hopped up on their own ‘psychic energy’ and ‘physical wellbeing’ tells you to think positive. If just one of these fuckers

would acknowledge that our human existence is a vale of suffering,or that pessimism has its occasional virtues… well,I’d still consider them as a bunch of smug,cliché-ridden vermin,bastards of the highest order and a waste of good oxygen. Except Nigel Slater. He buys chips – from the chip shop and everything.

Well,that was a load of shite,wasn’t it,eh readers? Still,at least I know I’m talking rot,unlike some people. Robert Kilroy-Silk “a man brave enough to put his head above the parapet”? WHAT? The man is a pathetic racist buffoon with a shit-eating grin and a total lack of moral fibre and any sort of principles. He is not a hero of free speech and/or liberty. He is not a legend. He is a fuckwit. There we are,problem solved!

After the ‘controversy’ over John Lydon’s “fucking cunts” outburst (77 complaints? Fuck that!),I make it my mission to increase the amount of swearing,blasphemy and profanity in the noble pages of Quench and gair rhydd. Bad language is clever and makes you look hard,and should be encouraged,especially in print. See

Your Horoscopes with Madame Cynthia

Aquarius (Jan 21 - Feb 18)

Sausages,sausages,sausages…wil you talk of nothing else? For God’s sake,change the record! No wonder your house ‘mysteriously’ burned down and dear old dad was committed.

Pisces (Feb19 - Mar 20) Next week,be prepared to participate in a greatleap forward for the scientific world as you are granted the honour of finding out whether a human being can live immersed in 30 tonnes ofconcrete.

Aries (Mar 21 - Apr 20) Finally,your prayers will be answered. Unfortunately,the answer is “no” –and that’s final.

Taurus (Apr 21 - May 21)

Communication between you and your spouse will reach an all-time low in the coming weeks,as the ouija board needs a new coat of varnish and will only summon the shades of 1940s folk singers.

Gemini (May 22 - June 22) How did you ever get so sweaty? I don’t like to mention it,but it’s becoming a

distraction. I mean,it must be some sort of medical abnormality,to judge from the condition of the seats.

Cancer (June 22 - July 22) Like a bottle of rum left out to entice passing sailors,your sign seems to be attracting a lot of attention from the other constellations. You’re the social event of the season,darling, and everyone ’s invited!

Leo (July 23 - Aug 23) Your lucky symbol is a black sun. Your lucky animal is whatever it is that’s living in your partner’s pubes. Your lucky songs are Snooker Loopy by Chas‘n’Dave and The Burning Shadows Of Silence by Emperor. Lucky foodstuff: gravy,and lots of it. Never mind the quality,feel the length!

Virgo (Aug 24 - Sep 22) Don’t you ever take time to pause your everhectic lifestyle and graze awhile in life’s lush pastures? No? Me neither. Don’t you think contemplation and reflection are,like, soooo 90s? I mean,gag me with a spoon!

Libra (Sep 23 - Oct 23) Not all of us got up front in the queue when it

came to looks and grace,but no matter – the Good Lord has seen fit to gift us in different ways. Well,not you,actually. No,God doesn’t like you at all. Maybe this has something to do with the three tattoos on your forehead – you know,the ones of the numerals…

Scorpio (Oct 23 - Nov 22) Yaarr! Don’t be puttin’ out ashore in the next seven days,me hearties! That scurvy yeller-bellied dog Benboe be plannin’ for to ambush ye and strike off yer head. Stay afloat on the briney. Yaarr!

Sagittarius (Nov 23 - Dec 21) You may well be endowed with an awesome intellect,miraculous insight into the lives of all creation,and the charisma of a minor god,but there’s still something missing in your life. A little bird tells me that you’re still not getting any – not so wise now, eh,big shot!

Capricorn (Dec 22 - Jan 20) Boys, boys,boys – are looking for a good time! Except,of course,in your case,due to an unfortunate (if temporary,we hope) outbreak of vile, stinking,pus-dribbling boils.