“Olympic Pollution Watch” Watch

As an avowed Olympic hater, the talk of the polluted smog over Beijing is amusing me. Not because I think pollution is in any way funny, but clearly because the sulphurous cloud strikes me as a whole new way of talking about the “Yellow Peril”. And I am not sure what the fuss is. As far as I remember my A-Level chemistry, all the competitors will be breathing broadly the same air, so it won’t really disadvantage any of them above the rest (unless they are used to sucking in polluted gases as they train). Even better, the pollution obscures the view of the events themselves and even potentially adds a very realistic hazard to the poshboy yachting events.

No the most interesting thing about the pollution is the rabid way that the news outlets are reporting it. Here’s is the BBC’s not very scientific pollution-o-meter - a daily photo and a measurement with the astounding error margin of 20%. … read on …

Does The Pope Shit In The Woods?

The Pope’s Toilet (El Bãno Del Papa) is set up to be a droll satirical comedy about the supposed effect the Pope’s visit to a small Uruguayan town had. Based on true events, there is some humour in the small town folks dreaming of this one day windfall of pilgrims visiting their town – strategically placed near the Brazilian border (the Pope did not visit Brazil on that visit). And yet there really aren’t any jokes except at the expense of the simple folk of the town. And whilst there may be a degree of venal cunning displayed in the townsfolk’s opportunism, this has to be balanced against their abject poverty. Bearing in mind that our lead regularly cycles 60 km a day via the countryside to smuggle goods from Brazil, you can’t begrudge them a day of dreams. I don’t think the film does. But then where is the humour in someone risking their entire standing and livelihood to smuggle a toilet over the border to try and make a little bit of money out of hordes of tourists? … read on …

THE COMMODORES - “Three Times A Lady”

Lionel Richie pens a heartfelt tribute to the Celtic triple Goddess - maiden, mother and crone.  Well, I assume that’s what it’s about. Before I got into soul music, this is pretty much what I assumed all soul music sounded like: insipid gloop for grown-ups, to be drowsed through in the hope something better might show up. Now, of course, not only do I know that soul is a broader church than I once imagined, I also know that a lot of the stuff that does sound like “Three Times A Lady” is terrific. The great soul ballads deliver a double payload - the comfort that comes from letting a thick wave of sentiment carry you up, and the pleasure of listening more closely to hear the nuance and twist in the singer’s delivery.

“Three Times” also holds these attractions to some degree - Richie is a fine singer and commendably restrained here, and there’s some attractive swells and surges in the arrangement towards the end. But I still can’t enjoy it. Maybe I’ve just heard it too often, maybe I like my balladry more situationally grounded and “Three Times” is too abstract. Maybe I’m just cold-hearted.