Gary Davison

No that’s not me, but I am in this month’s Writing Magazine. Worth buying just to hear my secrets on writing.

Or you could just ask me. You know I’d only say, ‘Sit down, write, enjoy, see what happens.’

Knowing me I’d get that wrong and probably say, ‘See, write down, enjoy, what happens?’

I’m always arguing with editors about word order. I think it’s called grammar. You’ve got to do it your way, haven’t you? If it sounds right to you, then run with it. Someone mentioned syntax and I had to look it up. ‘Studies of rules for forming admissible sentences.’

Sounds fun.

What a Monday morning. I’ve just been to Durham town centre where we’re doing a paving contract.

I rolls up at 6.30, plenty of time to see what the lads done on Friday and get a couple of new starters sorted out.

I turned around, and out of nowhere a badger comes running up the street. Petrified it was. It had that badger petrified look. It darted from doorway to doorway looking for a way out. I tried to get it to go down the bank towards the river (banging my hard hat on the ground????) but the noise of traffic had it going one way then the other.

Eventually it took refuge under a car.

I called the RSPCA and half an hour later I was holding the cage as she nabbed the poor thing with a net and we got it in the back of the van.

It had been hit by a car and may or may not survive.

I would just like to say a big thanks to the silly cow that works at the pub opposite for telling everyone that passed so the badger got plenty of attention. ‘Oh it might bite me!’ Would it fuck. It wouldn’t touch you, you useless article, it has more sense now naff off and smoke your tab and get a bath.

Good luck Mr Badger hope you make it.

And over to Paul:

Right then, Gary’s challenge this week is for us to identify our favourite film for each decade from the 1970s on.  He’s done a little private baiting, I’ll have you know, reckoning that Jaws would be on my list for the 80s, but I’ve got news for him: I’ve never seen a single one of the Jaws series.  Nup.  I have to confess to the bloody-minded truth that I do everything I can to resist the sort of hype that surrounds films like Jaws and Titanic.  Sometimes I get sucked in and sometimes, when I do, I don’t regret it.  For instance, I was well on the way to boycotting Avatar because the film’s Publicity Department were in hyper-drive, but when I finally succumbed and travelled to Melbourne to see it in 3D, I loved it.  It’s got a classic storyline that works superbly – a new interpretation of a traditional line – and the special effects were just stunning.  Trippy indeed.

Had to do the 300k trip to Melbourne because we were without a cinema in these here parts for a year, on account of the place burning down somewhat.  Damn those critics!  It opened up a couple of weeks ago and I trundled along to watch Inception which, again, I thought was fantastic, but it was a pretty safe bet that I’d be a fan of a film that explored layers of reality because I’m a sucker for such renderings in Matrix, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Donny Darko, Vanilla Sky, The Truman Show, Run Lola Run, Memento and so forth.  Love those movies.

Anyway, I digress.  Well, let’s just call that an introduction, shall we?

I started doing some serious movie-watching in the 70s, because the cinema was a good place to take a girlfriend when you still lived at home and there weren’t any parties to crash (and you’d got tired of sipping warm beer in the local pubs).  I reckon it was a good decade too with some edgy pieces like Straw Dogs, Apocalypse Now, The Night Porter, etc.  However, while I’ve got fond memories of Woody Allen’s whimsical Everything You Wanted To Know About Sex But Daren’t Ask (mainly because it told me a fair bit about sex that I daren’t ask), my trophy for the film of the 70s has to go to Last Tango in Paris. 

  Not just because it told me everything I’d never imagined doing with butter (and never thought to ask) but because the images from the film stayed with me for years afterwards and because when I watched it again, about five years ago, I thought it was still a stunning film.

The 80s are a different matter entirely.  There were some decent films released, but they were swamped by so much Hollywood dross.  To keep the choice simple and the length of this piece shorter than it might otherwise be, I’ll plump for the movie I’ve seen the most from that period and which still works as a wonderful retelling of Stephen King’s story The Body: Stand By Me.

Things improved in the 90s with the likes of American Beauty, Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels, Pulp Fiction and, on the lighter side, Pleasantville, Austin Powers and a film I have been known to watch on a continuous loop: Groundhog Day.  It’s certainly a harder choice, but Fight Club gets it – what a knockout movie.

As for the noughties, choosing gets harder and harder.  Having mentioned that whole raft of alternative reality movies above, I could go for any of them quite comfortably.  Or select from some of the films that have me creased up like Hot Fuzz, Shaun of the Dead, Black Sheep.  Or something a little Art House like Amelie, Perfume or The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford.  However, I’ll have to bypass all these and more for one of my all-time favourites: the two volumes of Kill Bill.  Quentin Tarentino is a wonderfully innovative storyteller and film-maker and not only does he unashamedly draw on a whole range of old (retro) tricks for this movie but he invents a few new tricks too.

So there you go, four decades in 700 words… and not a monster shark or piranha in sight.

Great films, Paul, my favourite out of those has to be Stand By Me.

Have a great weekend all.

Tomorrow will see my pal Paul Burman back on here and I’ll be over his place having a giggle about films. This was my guest blog on his site a couple of weeks ago,

                                         TECHNOLOGY

Ebooks, emails, iphones, smart phones, not-so-smart phones, YouTube, blogs, bogs, ipads, video-phones…. Throw them all at me and I want to run a mile. Grab a newspaper or book, turn my back on all and everything and kick back on a park bench reading. Chilled out. Nice and easy. Leave the world and its gadgets behind and ride off into the sunset and be done with it all.

            But I run this blog, so I can’t be against all technology. Then I have that iphone, the one I said I would never get because I’m a dinosaur when it comes to technology, but… it’s… so… good. I love it. I can’t get enough of the iphone. I check work emails, private emails, check on the books and websites I like, all so easily and the speed of it is amazing. Much better than that laptop t-mobile blagged me into buying at Christmas. You can nip down and stick the veg on and prepare the dessert while that’s getting into gear.

            When e-books were first announced, or when they came to my attention, I was adamant, that me, and possibly my generation, my type of people, would not entertain them at all. How can a screen take the place of a nice book you can hold, bend the cover, shove in the beach bag?

I don’t think e-books will because ‘we’ the people before ipad and over thirty will always want to read the conventional way with a book in our hands. I know I will when I go on holiday and I’m chilling out on the beach. That’s when I like to have a book handy. That aside, I think there is room for e-books in my life along with the many other things that an ipad, or similar device, can give you.

Take the newspapers. The Times is nine quid a month as an app, or you can get it in paper form for thirty-five a month. Weather, golf gps – which is fantastic, by the way – dictionary, app to teach your kids how to tell the time, drawing app, it goes on and on, and the more I get into it, the more I like it.

If I buy an ipad, there’s a fair chance I’ll be seduced into e-books. If I buy an ipad. A year ago I would have burst out laughing. Now, I’m convincing myself, that despite not needing an ipad, because no one needs one, it just looks so much fun, I’m close to weighing over for one.

If I can be pulled up to speed with all this igear and find it fun, anyone can. And the reason being is that it is all so easy to use. And I can’t be the only one feeling like this as e-books, since the release of the ipad, have overtaken sales of normal books for the first time.

Verdict – If you enjoy doing something, do it. I’m in on this particular way of technology.

I’ve bought an ipad now and they’re nifty as hell. I’ll fill you in next week on what I’m up to with it.

As you can see from a few comments landing last night, another disaster has struck. We’d had a whisper. From a man who knows a man who knows a horse. the whisper headed north and was so secret I was frightened to tell myself about it.

When the floodgates opened we were all on the nose big time. This morning we’re all waking up in a cold sweat having blown a right few quid.

There is only one way to look at things like this. Positively. Especially you Banker (what time did you leave the bar last night??). The blog crashed, the horse was obviously under the weather, that’s two down, we’re only one away from some serious good luck.

Let’s get back blogging. Pissing about over for at least a week.

Soooooooo, where was we? What subjects was floating around these here parts?

Paul Burman and me are going to post our favourite films of the last few decades on Friday. I’ve got at least one comedy in there.

 We were getting all techno, although I never stuck my techno post up on here, so I’ll be doing that tomorrow. With a little addition as I’ve just bought an ipad.

The ipad debate. I can’t see what the fuss is about. Get an iphone, if you use loads of apps and wish it were bigger, get an ipad.

Of course you can’t justify having one, they’re an unnecessary luxury - and sweet as nut.

Christ, what a carry on. One little press of the button and we’ve been stuck with that fringe bloke for almost a week. Techno-disaster. I feel like ripping his syrup off and slapping is bald head I’m so tired of looking at him.

Poor soul hasn’t done anything except sit there, but still.

Anyways, we’re not back yet. This is temporary until I suss out what’s happening with the new theme.

Apologies in advance!

Karen and me travelled by plane, train and tube and landed in Leicester Square at about half one on Friday. Room wasn’t ready so we went across the road to the nearest bar. Six hours later we made the long 400 yard trip to the casino. Stock taking a.m suggested we won fifty quid, and the meat down my top was an indication a large donner was involved, all of which I took no enjoyment from as I can ne remember.

It was great catching up with the paperbooks team and we planned plenty for the future, which I’ll tell you about soon. I’m so pleased they met us earlier rather than later. Long way to go not to remember talking to folk.

Despite the pair of us struggling with a hangover we went in search of the London Dudgeons on Saturday. It was underground (no shit), hot, dark, extremely frightening, but well worth the effort and after two hours, which included being in Sweeny Todd’s chair, we were taken to the gallows and dropped to the floor in one of those mad rides. How the breakfast stayed down was a miracle.

I managed to read another couple of short stories from Bobby Boyd and was impressed. I could become a Bobby groupie and try a full length novel of his soon.

Returning back from London I checked in to see what they were up to and both Fat Tuesday and Streakers were in the top 10 000 again this weekend, with Streakers reaching 5000th. Fat Tuesday has been holding its own around about this chart position for a couple or three months. Cushty. That’s London talk, my son.

 Karen and me are flying down to London tomorrow for a meet with the paperbooks team.

As usual we make a weekend of it and after a bite to eat we hit the bars around Leicester Square and wherever else take our fancy.

Not wanting to appear completely without culture, we’re going to have a look in the London dungeons.

Short stories are not for me. Don’t like them and they seem pointless, which is why this chap here, Bobby Boyd, has got my attention and goes with me tomorrow.

A friend of mine bought me a few books a couple of weeks back, I think I mentioned it at the time. This was one of them so I didn’t want to appear rude and so it went in my bag and I’ve had it with me ever since. Last week, while being all broody and creative supping coffee and soup in Preta Manger, I decided to give this a shot, and it also completed the image of old student slash creative slash, well just slash. No scarf, though, I’m not a complete…. That has just reminded me of a joke off Cemetery Junction that had everyone rolling. Why does Noddy have a bell on his hat? (now imagine a room full of 60+ year olds at a cocktail bash) answer: because he’s a C**T! (cunt).

Where was I? Yip, the book. So, short stories being a no-no, I wasn’t expecting much and was blown away by the first story, Adult Video. Told, like a video plays ie rewind, play, pause etc.  Fantastic.

 With me giving up the old woodbines, 17 days and counting thanks to this here book, I’m reading more than normal.

I’ll not go into this book yet, but it works and has sold over 9million copies.

Word is the author died of lung cancer, but that’s just pure gossip. Could be perfectly okay for all I know.

Well, I’m off, have a good weekend and read that to give up, and pick the other up to fill ya time in.

 …Paul Burman and my good self are still having an inter-blog carry on this week. This week -slash- this month. It’s the summer, kids are off, everything takes that bit longer.

Our next subject, after the techno blogs, is films. Movies as they say over there.

We’re going to pick our favourite films from the last four decades, one from each, then a few wild cards thrown in at the death.

Today I had a quick look at the 70s and there are some great films out in the 70s. Even though I was only just born, I remember watching these when I was early teens, I think.

Here’s a sample of some of the 70s films that are floating around: Taxi Driver, The God Father, Star Wars, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, Superman. Tasty selection or what?

But would one of those be my choice for the 70s? What about…

 It’s going to be violent, just a matter of nutter, gangland or rubber.

I’ll give Paul a tug, se how he’s getting on. i know he’s been busy with a new website, which is looking rather nifty. Have a look, go to paulburman.net, or just click HERE.