Not one of those groovy hippies, I’m more a wannabe hippy who tends to have an opinion on pretty much everything

I’ve just faced the outside world for the first time since Christmas Eve, and what a grey, miserable sight it is here in Greenwich at the moment. 90% of people seem to be walking around with faces like the proverbial slapped arse.

I blame it on the relentless “branding” and promotion of the credit crunch by the media. And, you know, lots of people being skint.

One good thing about keeping one’s head down over Christmas is that it isn’t too painful on the wallet once you’ve got the presents out of the way. I’ve holed up at home or made brief forays to friends for the last few days and haven’t spent a penny since Christmas Eve. w00t!

The always awesome Big Picture are releasing their best photographs of 2008. Two more sets to come before the end of this week. Huzzah for tBP!

The news is all in a tizzy today about the fact that a documentary featuring an assisted suicide is airing on Sky Real Lives tonight, and various anti-euthanasia pundits have been trotted out to do interviews during the course of the day. Many of their objections were ludicrous.

Dr Peter Saunders thought we might “start to believe in a story that there is such a thing as a life not worth living”, which sounds like nonsense to me. If I’m a 12 year old Tutsi girl with nothing to look forward to but my tits and feet being hacked off before I’m raped to death, well, I’m pretty sure I’d take a cyanide capsule if I had it. Sometimes there’s just no possibility of hope or joy left in life. Ask anyone who’s ever lived in Doncaster.

The worst was hearing the normally smart and compassionate Lady Ilora Finlay, who today, unfortunately, was merely compassionate. She said “This programme is broadcasting something which is very private, which is someone dying and which is illegal in this country”.

When I first heard Lady Finlay’s comments on The Today Show they were bracketed by recorded opinions from the suicide in question, Craig Ewert, and his wife Mary. Both were, if not enthusiastic, then stoic and sure about their desire to see the details of assisted suicide in the public domain. Lady Finlay seems to think she’s a better judge of what should remain private in their lives than they are.

She also objected on the grounds that the documentary was showing something “illegal in this country”. This in spite of the fact that documentaries featuring illegal activities (both in the UK and abroad) are ten a penny. I don’t recall hearing Lady Finlay sound off when “A Very British Gangster” was aired, or about the constant reruns of “Police, Camera, Action” and “America’s Drunkest Cops” for that matter.

All a bit of a storm in a teacup really, but I’m surprised the anti-euthanasia contingent couldn’t come up with anything better. The argument against could be pretty much summed up as “we don’t like it”, which is a shame because it’s a big enough subject to have a proper debate about.

I doubt that argument will happen in my lifetime though. It strikes me as being like the debate over decriminalisation of cannabis and other soft drugs: something 80% of people think makes sense but no politician could consider because 20% of the remaining 20% would start a fucking civil war.

Living in London I don’t have much need for a motor: between the congestion charge, city traffic and shitty state of our roads owning a car would make me even more grumpy than I am already. As such when I do need to get somewhere and public transport won’t do the job I’ll generally hire a car.

I’m off to see the folks this Christmas and just logged on to book a runabout to get me up there and around while I’m oop north. WTF?! The cost for a hatchback with most of the big firms has doubled since I last hired one a couple of weeks ago.

Price gouging winds me up no end but doing it at Christmas really takes the biscuit. I got a decent deal from a smaller firm via carrentals.co.uk in the end but Hertz, Avis and the rest can forget about seeing any of my business in future. Not as bad as the wankers who rob houses when people are away for Xmas, perhaps, but in the same ballpark as far as I’m concerned.

I just did all my christmas shopping. It took two hours from start to finish and I didn’t have to shoulder a single child or eledery shopper out of my way, nor did I spend three hours trying to park. Bless you, Internet.

Most of my purchases were CDs, DVDs and books so Amazon saw the majority of my money, along with a John Lewis (the bathrobe). I also bought two bongs for my sister (she’s just started university and seems to have amassed a collection already) from a place called Shiva Head Shop.

When I ordered the bongs I didn’t notice the online head shop had retail premises less than a mile from my flat, and being new to the area I didn’t know it was there. So it was a bit of a surprise when my order turned up 40 minutes later, presented in person by one of the owners of Shiva Head Shop. So much for online shopping being impersonal! He was passing anyway so saved himself the price of postage and got to deliver a bit of personal service too, which is always good. Thanks for the newbie tips on Greenwich mate

Hopefully Sis will be happy with the bongs and the rest will be happy with the obviously Amazon-sourced books and whatnot. Though I’m beginning to think that giving out presents which are almost all DVDs, Books & so on from Amazon makes some relatives who think you’re cheating. “I had to struggle through Bluewater at lunchtime on a Saturday, why didn’t you, you c*nt!”

TV on the Radio’s “Dear Science,” has only been around for six weeks but iTunes is telling me I’ve listened to it over a hundred times since its release date. Its that kind of album: accessible enough that you’re singing along from the second listen but complex enough that you’ll make at new discoveries every time you play it.

It won’t surprise many TVotR’s fans that their latest effort is a work of genius, but it will throw many, me included, that it’s this kind of genius.

Previous TVotR recordings were, to put it mildly, a little bit out there. There was almost always a strong tune and worthwhile lyrics but it was sometimes hard to find them amidst the layers of found and sampled noise, kaleidoscope mix of musical styles and Tunde & Kyp’s fuzzed up vocals. Until now TV on the Radio were pretty much what you might expect from the “Experimental New York art-rock” label they’ve so often been tagged with.

“Dear Science,” pulls that pigeon hole from the wall, smashes it with a hammer then proceeds to dance all night on the remains. It’s a big, blustering album with TVotR’s funk, jazz, hip-hop and rock influences being raided for their most entertaining rather than most esoteric qualities. There’s half a dozen tracks that would do the lads proud as singles, and the album as a whole is a gem that’ll bring them a lot of new fans.

Long term fans needn’t fear the band has lost their edge: dark lyrics and a sampling/instrumental style that make you feel like the combined contents of a music shop and a junk store are being thrown are both in evidence. This isn’t a band that have sold out, they’ve just taken to partying rather than playing with pocket calculators.

Barring a seriously good late upset in December I think “Dear Science,” is album of the year, and hopefully a lot of new fans will be receiving it in their Christmas stockings this year. Well done Tunde Adebimpe, David Sitekand Kyp Malone, with Sitek taking additional credit for being the man in the producer’s chair.