SYMPATHY FOR THE OLD DEVILS

I am something of a film buff and Martin Scorsese is one of my favourite directors, so as a birthday treat to myself (it was last Thursday if you must know) I went to see the new Martin Scorsese film "Shine a Light" starring the Rolling Stones.

It was trademark Scorsese stuff, opening with a long zoom into New York from the sky, the camera swooping right into the Beacon Theatre. The big mob boss, played by Bill Clinton, turns up at the beginning, kissing hands and introducing his new Polish associate, played by former President Kwasniewski. The "made men" retire to the balcony seats while the new wiseguys act out the story, in an interesting interpretation of "Hamlet" set in the milieu of the New York underworld.

The Rolling Stones

Taciturn "Charlie Drumsticks"/Claudius is the retiring elderly capo, not saying much and sitting down all the time. "Micky Tight Butt"/Hamlet (also known as "Jumpin' Jack Flash") is the arrogant strutting dandy who starts a gang war to take over control of New York. His song "Sympathy for the Devil" is typical of Scorsese's obsession with Catholicism and redemption. "Who killed the Kennedys?" was a line that must have made "No Cigar" Clinton/Fortinbras shift uncomfortably in his seat and move a little closer to his bodyguard. "Woody Six Strings"/ Rosencrantz-Guildenstern is an eager young pup who runs messages and delivers dubious packages, and "Pirate King" Richards/Horatio is the staunch lieutenant who tries to keep Micky's excesses under control, never touches drugs, and will whack anyone who tries to harm his buddy. These loveable rogues live in an extended family group including backing vocalists and a horn section. There were cameos from Christina Aguilera as "The Blonde"/Ophelia, Jack White as "The Kid"/Laertes, and veteran bluesman Buddy Guy as himself/Polonius. At the end, Scorsese's camera zooms out in his trademark final shot of New York City by night. A seminal meisterwerk.

Goodfellas

I can't wait for the sequel, with Joe Pesci on vibes and Harvey Keitel on maracas.

PARLEZ-VOUS EUROBABBLE?

The Eurovision Song Contest final takes place this evening, and here in fully-cabled Belgium I can zap between British, Belgian, Dutch, French, German, Italian, Spanish, Polish, Turkish and Greek simultaneous coverage of the competition, although nothing can match the sardonic comments of an increasingly inebriated Terry Wogan with his trenchant observations, especially when it comes to the voting. Look out for "the old Balkan two-step" when any of the former Yugoslavian countries are being judged, Belarus and Ukraine will cravenly vote for Russia or risk losing their oil supplies again, and Cyprus may finally give douze points to Turkey as well as to Greece this year. From a cursory glance at some of the entries, I see that tonight's line-up in Belgrade will feature the usual smattering of fancy dress (Latvia) and novelty acts (Dustin the Turkey from Ireland, in a blatant attempt to throw the competition, which has cost them a fortune over the years).

Belgium is putting up an song in a made-up language, no doubt a symbolic gesture to its warring Flemish and Walloon communities. The language barrier has always been a sticky wicket in the history of Eurovision. To get around it many countries have resorted to gibberish along the lines of "La la la" or "Boom bang-a-bang". Check out the winners over the years - I think "Diggi-Loo Diggi-Ley" (Sweden, 1984) takes the biscuit. I do hope that this attempt to bridge the language divide isn't taken up by the Commission and used for the basis of a Directive. Otherwise, Eurobabble could become the official language of Europe, or the Boomshakalaka Confederation as it may come to be known.

I always thought this number from "Hair" would have been a Eurovision winner.

1968 AND ALL THAT

Today is the 40th anniversary of the day the student revolution in Paris collapsed. I remember it as if it were yesterday, listening to it all on crackly Radio Luxembourg in my back garden in south London, wishing I were old enough to pack a rucksack and head off on the night train to Paris. The stars of the the revolting student movement were Daniel Cohn-Bendit, Rudi Dutschke, Tariq Ali. Many years later I saw Tariq Ali speak at my university debating chamber, and was rather smitten. He was a bit like Omar Sharif with added politics.

Tariq Ali in 1968 with radical stunner Vanessa Redgrave

May 1968 was a defining moment for many of my generation. Against a soundtrack of the Stones "Gimme Shelter", images of French students rising up and taking on the mighty CRS riot police with paving stones ripped up from the street pushed me and many of my generation towards the left. Lefties just had more fun! It only lasted a fortnight (3-17 May), but it spawned a whole generation.

Franco-German redhead firebrand Daniel (Dany le Rouge) Cohn-Bendit was the poster boy of the moment. The iconic photograph at the top, which was taken from many angles and featured on the front cover of Paris Match, summed up the whole May-68 ethos: Dany is saying "We're young, we're not scared of you, and we're winning". He coined the slogan "We are all German Jews" - not as trite as it might appear, since his father was German and his mother French and Jewish. (Actually his parents were both German Jews, but Daniel was born during the war in southern (i.e. non-occupied) France where they had escaped just before hostilities had broken out. Check your facts in future. -- Ed.)

Of course all it took was for General de Gaulle to make a well-publicised visit to a French army base and everyone went back to work. But at least they had a go. Although I don't totally support the anti-globalisation movement, I can't help but cheer them on, as they're at least doing what young people are supposed to do, i.e. try (vainly) to change the world.

Today's youngsters are overly realistic, they seem to have decided they don't have a snowball's chance in hell of changing the world and therefore are not going to knock themselves out trying. Shame on them! They might lose all their illusions in the struggle, but they'll go down fighting with their Doc Martens on and learn all about self respect and police brutality.

- What do we want?
- Civil disobedience!
- When do we want it?
- After my Saturday job if possible ....


Today Daniel Cohn-Bendit is an MEP for the German Greens, and although the famous flaming red hair is now greying, and the blue twinkling eyes are wreathed in lines, he would still get my vote in a sexiest MEP competition. His own personal website would win a prize on its own.





Technology makes protest easier these days. The trade unions have launched Union Island on Second Life, the virtual world where you can go on a demo whilst lying on your sofa with your laptop. This may sound something of a cop-out, but the Italian employees of IBM actually managed to force the resignation of their CEO through action on Second Life.

Students of the world, unite. You have nothing to lose but your Saturday job.

LIVES OF THE SAINTS 5: ST SCHUMAN

Yesterday was Europe Day, commemorating the date of the 1950 declaration presented by Robert Schuman, the French foreign minister, generally credited as the founding father of what is now the European Union. He has lent his name to the Schuman district of Brussels, where most of the European Institutions are to be found. If you want to listen to the voice of the great man reading his declaration, clickez-vous here.

Robert Schuman was born a German in Luxembourg, but became French at the age of 33 when his father's native Alsace was returned to France after the end of the first world war. He thus had the dubious honour of being on active service for Germany during World War 1 (although in a civilian capacity) and with the French resistance (after imprisonment by the Nazis) in World War 2. His idea of reconciliation and unity in Europe was based on a passionate conviction that member countries should and could never wage war against each other again. He was a sort of European Nelson Mandela, without the jazzy shirts.

Educated by the Jesuits, Robert Schuman was an intensely religious man and a Bible scholar, who remained single and celibate all his life. His possible beatification is actually under consideration by the Vatican, but for Euro civil servants who benefit from an extra days' holiday on 9th May on top of their huge salaries, he has been "Saint Schuman" for many years already, and every payday they offer a silent prayer to their patron saint.

Stanley Kubrick illustrated Schuman's philosophy to interesting effect in his seminal work "A Clockwork Orange". Jump to about four and a half minutes into the clip to get an inkling of UKIP's idea of Europe.

BLUE

Not these two South American strongmen

And quite a big push it was. Especially the sofa-bed, which weighs about two tons and had to be manually lifted up over a first-floor balcony, through the kitchen window, and then carefully manoeuvred through a very narrow opening into the living room. One of the removal men, a South American strong man with lovely green eyes, stood up on the balcony ledge like a colossus heaving it up by a strap, while McChe, the other South American and myself pushed from below. It must have been quite a comical sight. It was the only solution, as they had already gouged holes in the walls trying unsuccessfully to get it up a spiral staircase. The removal guys were quite businesslike and efficient, and put more than their backs into the job:

"No pasa, hombre."
"Si, si, venga, pasara."
"No, no, mira, mira, no va."
"Si si si, venga, venga,"
"No no no, no pasa, no pasa, NO PASA, AIIIIIII MI COJONES !!!"

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While all this was going on, Londoners were turning out in record numbers to vote Red Ken out of office, and similarly all over England and Wales. The return of the stalwart British upper middle classes to their rightful place, i.e. in charge, is long overdue and will act as a bulwark of patrician values against the tide of oleaginous parvenus who are grabbing the reins of power on the continent. Regular readers will remember that I backed Boris from the start, and he obviously reads my blog, as he followed my advice to tone down the clowning. I for one shall be raising a glass of Pimms to the new Mayor and look forward to an improved public transport service, which as I understand may involve making better use of the Thames.



The victory of the "blues" has even spread to football, with Chelsea qualifying for the Champions League final in Moscow, against the barbarian hordes of the north. It is well known that the hooligan element of both teams' supporters hate each other with a vengeance. The Muscovite riot police are likely to be the real winners on 21st May, and are probably already polishing their rubber bullets with glee. As a Londoner by birth, I must support Chelsea, and their victory is a foregone conclusion with Peter Bonnetti in goal.