Russell Brand vs. The Sun

I wouldn't say I was Russell Brand's biggest fan but he really shone at Amnesty International's The Secret Policeman's Ball. He and The Mighty Boosh were by far the best acts I thought (and Eddie was there, so that's saying something!) I would've posted a clip of TMB's dramatic piece of theatre, "Pies", but I couldn't find one so here is Brand for you. Check out that hair! Hope he manages to make it fashionable, I could dispense with the straighteners then and look de rigeur first thing in the morning!

My admiration for this bit of stand up may also have something to do with the fact that I also fucking hate the sorry excuse for journalism that is The Sun. Justice for the 96.

Kennedy: Ich bin ein Berliner...

Translation: "I am a doughnut." (Apparently rather spurious but I still like it.)



Having been inspired by Wondy - and not for the first time! - I have uploaded some of my old Berlin pics to Flickr. Not that they'll actually give you much of an insight to the city, because they're mainly of us gurning at the camera like idiots and generally looking quite rough. We were burning the candle at both ends, staying out late and having to get up at ungodly hours in pitch dark to be dragged around on orientation trips by our tutors. It was a uni trip. I was nineteen. And looking at the pictures has made me feel all nostalgic and old. But glad that I'm not still looking quite so rough. Seriously, I know I'm pale but I don't usually look like I've just been dug up. Or at least I hope not...

You'll be glad to know we did lots of cultural things too and didn't just spend our time in American diners posing for dodgy photographs - it was an educational trip after all. We had an amazing time and I would love to go back. We stayed in Schoneberg in this completely bizarre hotel. It was luck of the draw whether you got bathroom facilities or not - some people had en suites, some people (me!) had to use the communal bathrooms and others had free-standing shower units in the middle of their rooms with glass sides, so that while one person showered, the others all had to avert their eyes. (Crazy Germans.)

We went to the dodgiest nightclub, Eden, and unbeknownst to us it was a singles night. We were all walking around with these big heart stickers with numbers on them like we were at a cattle market. Then, without much ado, a male stripper cleared the dance floor and tried to make some poor innocent girl lick cream off his todger. Funnily enough I'm not in a particular rush to go back there...

We spent a lot of time around Oranienburgerstrasse and took a trip to Wannsee, which sits rather disjointedly at the edge of a housing estate. And we really got into zipping about on the subway, visiting Checkpoint Charlie - dwarfed by big shopping centres on either side - and The New Jewish Museum, which was awesome. As well as the main exhibition, which celebrates two thousand years of Jewish history, the museum has a lower floor comprised of three different axis which cut through each other. The walls of the Axis of Exile are dotted with the names of cities around the world to which Jewish people fled the Nazi regime, whilst the Axis of Holocaust depicts the names of concentration camps.

The exhibition displays all sorts of personal objects, like tea sets, hand towels and letters, and tells you what happened to the people who owned or wrote them. It was a more human treatment of the subject and made you really see the people behind all the facts and figures you're told in class - like a personal history as well as a brutal historical event. The building also has three specifically designed spaces to represent their experiences and they try to make you interact with the history as well as observing it.

One of these spaces is called The Memory Void. Israeli artist Menashe Kadishman’s (born Tel Aviv 1932) Fallen Leaves is contained within the Memory Void. Faces which seem to shriek in horror or pain, cut from metal in different shapes and sizes, form a ghastly carpet across the void’s floor. You are encouraged to walk across the faces but when we went there was just the two of us and we couldn't bring ourselves to do it.

I'd wanted to visit there since I saw a news item about its opening and I was really pleased that I got to see it. I would've liked to have spent more time in the main exhibition than we did but we were kind of having to stick to the subject matter our project was on. But I'd recommend it to anyone because it's really powerful stuff.

Oh, and we met some nutters on the subway, too. There were these two punk kids who just shouted "Fuck you, fuck you," at us, until Rach shouted "Zwanzig Euros," back in her best German accent, and there was some barmy Irish guy ranting and raving and asking for money. He stood right among our group for ages swearing his head off and then finally got off at one of the stops. My friend breathed a huge sigh of relief and this really dignified German man leaned forward and said with a wicked smile, "A friend of yours?"

Meh, I really want to go back now. The Boyf would freakin' love it.

"I've never even drank ethanol."

I'm trying to write something about The Royle Family. I watched The Queen of Sheba episode the other night and it was just brilliant. I can't praise the show enough as I absolutely love it and just think it's pure genius. I was trying to list the things I love about it but I sound so gushing and can't capture what's so wonderful about it anyway. It has to be seen to be appreciated. I'm a massive fan of Ricky Tomlinson because he's so talented, but also because he's so grounded. I love his humour and the way he can deliver a line. And I love the writing and the setting and the brilliantly realised characters. It's the antidote to most other sitcoms where too much happens and it's all a bit stagey and the plots become more and more ridiculous as time and seasons go by. It's almost entirely set in their front room and they just watch telly and talk about what they had for their tea and what's going on down The Feathers. I was disappointed there was no Darren in the special though as I think he's my favourite. I tried desperately not to cry while I was watching it, but let's face it I cried during Click (an Adam Sandler movie!) the other day so there was no hope for me during the scene when Nana is thanking Barb for looking after her. But it was of course hilarious and a real triumph. I hope Liz Smith is recognised for her performance in some way.

LOVE it!

Peace in the Valleys

Shocked as I am to report it, Big Brother's Welsh beauty Imogen actually managed to really entertain me yesterday. Between her cringeworthy "hot topics" radio jingle, which signalled a generous round of embarrassed body language among the other housemates, and her request for wine in the diary room, I think she enjoyed her most scintillating air time since the show began a hundred and thirty weeks ago.

"One bottle of wine," she scoffed, as if to say what's the problem? "Two pound fifty in Co-op."

Big Brother has really started to bore me since I missed a big chunk in the middle. And this new returning housemates thing seems to be in a bit of a shambles. What is it all for? It was quite interesting watching the ex-housemates talk about all the footage they've watched since leaving, as you never usually get to find out what they think about each other once they've left. And although I can see why uber bitch Grace was voted back in, I can't help wanting to slap her smug face for being so cocky about it.

It's not anywhere near as good a catchphrase as "I like blinking I do," but I wonder if Imogen's solitary moment of accidental humour will make it into Dawn French's fabulous Catherine Zeta Jones sketch?