‘A transferable tax allowance for all married couples (costing £3.2bn and giving £20 a week to those making use of it)’
– Conservative Party, Social Justice Policy Group

It’s nice to know that in the unlikely event of the Tories winning the next election, married people like me will get £20 a week in compensation, money my unmarried friends with children will not get. And knowing them the way I do, I doubt £20 a week will be enough to force them to conform to the conservative lifestyle failed ex-Tory leader Iain Duncan Smith seeks to impose upon them… and I wonder to what kind of person £20 a week would be an inducement to marry. It would be the nanny state gone mad.

Duncan Smith’s Social Justice Policy Group suggests people like me use the money to ‘volunteer in the community’, but £20 buys very little of my time. I think I’ll spend it down the pub offsetting the required rise in taxes.

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‘If you want to eat well in England, eat three breakfasts.’
– W. Somerset Maugham

A big fan of all-day vegetarian breakfasts, it was hard to resist Café North’s value of money offer of two quorn burgers, two veggie sausages, two eggs et cetera at a reasonable price I can’t remember (a career as a professional reviewer clearly isn’t on the cards for me).

And it did the job… when it finally arrived 35 minutes after it was ordered and with Katharine fretting that her lunch break was almost over. She ended up leaving half of her very nice veggie bangers and mash.

There’s little more infuriating than seeing people who arrived after you getting their food orders… settling their bills… while you sit there nursing a coffee you planned to make last into the meal itself. And when we did catch someone’s eye she took another order or two before checking with the kitchen, who had (judging from the state of my broken fried egg and the speed of her return) been sitting around a while, possibly under a hot lamp. Being a Reservoir Dogs fan, I tipped even though the waitress who dropped the bill ran away before I could respond to her: ‘everything okay?’

Still, I reckon Café North is a pleasant enough place to breakfast if you have some time on your hands and I plan to try out their nut roast one Sunday lunchtime. But if you need to play safe pop just a few doors down to the most excellent Abergeldie Café where the service is always remarkably prompt and efficient and they serve what may be the best double egg and chips in Manchester.

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Shot in a way that makes Manchester looks like a flimsy cardboard film set and relying on a script improvised by actors with no feel for their characters, Kapital is excruciatingly pretentious. The vacuous cry in the shadow of the Beetham Tower, but there is no pathos.
(Kapital is Manchester International Festival Commission commission.)
A walk-out worthy 0 out of 10.
Writer & Director: Greg Hall
Shrek the Third……Michael Clayton

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Take a walk down Manchester’s Liverpool Street past the Museum of Science & Industry, where the railways began and there in the window is Doctor Who’s TARDIS. Wow!

And it really is quite small… on the outside.

This posted via mobile via Flickr. Click the pic to see it large (there’s an ‘all-sizes’ tab for really large).

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I am not the censorious type, but I was surprised, even shocked, to come across this cartoon portraying Tony Blair as a bomber… it’s a bit near the mark don’t you think?

Had the Glasgow Airport incident been more serious, I think there would be more than a few red faces at the Lib Dem’s Cowley Street HQ, for it is from there that the offending image originates.

Perhaps it was inspired by conspiracy theorist Norman Baker MP. Who not only believes Dr David Kelly’s death was murder, but has hinted that the spooks may have done for Robin Cook too and is careful to leave the door open to those who belive: ‘A great deal of evidence… suggests that individuals in the US government colluded with or engineered the [9/11] attacks’.

See this and more Liberal Democrat ePostcards.

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MPs were laughing at comrade Digby Jones this afternoon, but I suspect that he’ll defect to Tories, before the next election and at a time calculated to maximise any damage to the government. And I’m willing to take modest wagers to that effect.

Sir Digby Jones’s views on trade unionism are well known; he thinks them outdated because adaptable, well trained workers need never worry about being mistreated or laid-off by their employer. More important than Sir Digby’s apparent naïvety is that to assault trades union rights is to assault the basic human right to join forces with others who share common goals and interests. Arguments that trade unions distort the internal markets that exist within each employer are flawed because they fail to acknowledge that an employer speaks with one voice and inevitably uses that power to buy labour at the best price; unions can only aspire to level the playing field.

Anyway. Gordon Brown’s appointments from within Lib Dem ranks are far cleverer. Many Labour voters switched to the Lib Dems because they’d like to see them in a coalition with Labour, pulling troops out of Iraq and taking a more corporatist, anti-private sector approach to public services. They’re already on their way back, but surprisingly the Tories don’t appear to be benefiting from ex-Conservative Lib Dem’s returning for fear the third party will prop up Labour in a hung parliament.

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A break from the high art wonders of the Manchester International Festival – Monkey, The Ground Beneath Her Feet – to wonder at the art of Kylie Minogue, which mainly takes the form of her dresses displayed on mannequins that cannot be seen naked as they are made to Kylie’s exact proportions. She really is very small.

I’ve always thought of Kylie Minogue as the poor person’s Madonna. They share a nasal whine and make disposable pop that’s sometimes quite good and often quite bad.

Much of her later outfits are impressive in a Las Vegas showgirl style, which is what she’s after. But the white hooded dress (described as ‘provocatively modest’ despite the heavy reliance on tit-tape) for Can’t Get You Out of My Head is really cheap looking and it’s clear that in the early days – I Should Be So Lucky – nobody was spending any money on her and her career’s longevity has surprised us all. Neighbours character Charlene’s dungarees are here and we’re reminded that she was one of the best loved characters to come out of Australia… not an accolade for which there is much competition. You also get to see Brit Awards, MTV Awards and the like which, like the cheaper outfits, are exposed as television props that are more than ghastly in the flesh.

Yet while it is inevitably easy on the intellect, Kylie: The Exhibition is a fine way to waste away a lazy Sunday afternoon. And there’s even a room where you can try stuff on and share Kylie’s style.

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Alan Hulme of the Manchester Evening News has been very kind to The Ground Beneath Her Feet, a Manchester International Festival commission inspired by Sir Salmon Rushdie’s novel, but people we bumped into there and have met since left with mixed feelings.

Not having read the novel, which I’m told is a little long, I wonder if it simply hasn’t survived this ninety minute treatment; Katharine thought the story was ‘pants’. It is rather juvenile and clichéd.

But the narration was superb (even if you sometimes felt sorry for Alan Rickman, having to read some silly lines: ‘I was her spare prick’) as was the music. The Hallé swept the audience off its feet and carried us on a wave for the duration. Mike Figgis’s short films were a bit rubbish, adding nothing to proceedings.

Nevertheless it’s exciting to see such adventurous, high profile arts events (like this and the more successful Monkey) happening in Manchester, the world’s original modern city. We’ve not finished yet, but we’re already looking forward to 2009.

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Perhaps inevitably, Shrek the Third lacks the novelty and wow factor of the ogre’s first two outings. But what lets this otherwise great fun movie down is poor editing and direction; set pieces that should be the jewels in the film’s crown feel rushed and the confident swagger is gone.
A worth seeing anyway, if only for Puss in Boots, 6.5 out of 10.
Director: Chris Miller……Starring: Mike Myers……Eddie Murphy……Cameron Diaz……Antonio Banderas
My Best Friend (Mon meilleur ami)……Kapital (Manchester International Festival)

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The car exhaust has rusted through after just four years at a join the RAC man called weak.

‘A design fault?’ He couldn’t say, prefering ‘anomaly’.

So the day has been spent being bounced by two Kwik-Fit garages before ending up at the dealer, wondering if driving without an exhaust (and making a noise a teenager would pay good money for) carries a risk of CO2 poisoning.

Cafe Nero put two shots of espresso in their coffee which might be good value, but hasn’t helped my head.

I realise I’ve never ridden Manchester’s FREE Metroshuttle Bus and I’m now kicking myself for not spending the last hour or so riding in circles while reading my book.

This posted via mobile via Flickr. Click the pic to see it large (there’s an ‘all-sizes’ tab for really large).

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