In much the same spirit as the rather excellent www.thisismyjam.com, what tune is rattling your cage this morning, Massive?

Mine's this: Marina & The Diamonds, and "Mowgli's Road", off her often superb but as a whole rather patchy first album.

What about you lot?

My life is complete. Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace.

Someone's dressed a dog up as two pirates carrying a treasure chest.

(Thanks to Steven C for this)

She's never been so much as late with a library book, and this whole thing is a storm in a teacup, and deeply unjust. Bless her. Scapegoated, I tell you. Scapegoated.

So, I've been doing a little project. For the last few years, when I've remembered, I've been noting down when my daughters have expressed particular approval of a song that's been on at home or in the car. They're nuts for music, my girls, and sometimes their tastes have really surprised me.

As it's Boblet 1's sixth birthday coming up next week, I've bought her an iPod Shuffle (they're £39! Bargain!) and a pair of not-terribly-good-but-better-than-the-iPod-buds over-ear headphones. The iPod holds 2Gb of music, which is clearly massive overkill for a six-year-old, even a six-year-old as music-crazy as this one.

So anyway. Using my list, compiled lovingly over however long, I've finally compiled a playlist of everything she's boogied, laughed, sat wistfully listening and run around to. It's going on her Shuffle ready for her to listen to on her birthday.

Plenty of us have asked before, on this blog, what is good music for kids. I'm pasting the playlist in comments. Maybe it'll give someone some ideas. (And yeah, They Might Be Giants are there, but I think that's the only "kid" music on the list.)

Joe R and I were just talking about this song on Twitter. I just don't have any words for how majestically beautiful it is. I can't even start to describe how it makes me feel. You know that swelling ache you get when something is too sad and beautiful and romantic for words? That starts to get there. Is this what the Portuguese mean by saudade? Or what the Germans mean by weltschmerz? Except there's hope. It's not just longing, or sadness: there's hope. But so much else besides.

Oh, it's no good, try as I might, there are no words.

Here's "No More Affairs", by Tindersticks.

I really shouldn't listen to this band when Mrs B and the Boblets are away.

These days in Northern Ireland it seems that you are never more than a week away from a Festival. Titanic-Fest, or whatever it was called, recently departed leaving a very expensive Visitors Centre behind, and last week’s Festival of Fools is packing up its tents and whoopee cushions even as I type. This week it’s the Cathedral Quarter Arts Festival – a consistently entertaining annual, boutique event with concerts spread around several city centre venues. The centerpiece of which is always a concert in a grand marquee in the centre of the city beside the river, and tonight featuring John Cale.

Contd.

...last night was a belter. I came back (in real life) from KatyG of this parish's house after a very good band practice and was fast asleep in no time. Whereupon I dreamt that my mother was sitting in on our practice, and that Katy kept - KEPT - snorting cocaine. My mum tried her level best to be blasé about it, or to pretend she didn't understand what Katy was up to, but she eventually left in a huff, with me in pursuit explaining that Katy is very nice really and that the coke was not typical of her behaviour (which, let me be very clear, it isn't).

Later in the dream, Katy's lovely husband broke my Les Paul (I don't own a Les Paul) and I spent the remainder of the dream trying to glue it back together unsuccessfully - searching Katy's house (which was strangely altered: not her house at all, but identified as such in my mind, as happens in dreams) from top to bottom looking for PVA and clamps. I think at one point I pressed a table sauce into service as an adhesive.

Any corkingly odd dreams lately, Massive? (Keep it clean, you dirty buggers.)

If we know one thing, we know that the culture isn't what it used to be, right? The music industry's on its knees, everyone's glued to asinine TV or their laptops, no-one reads books any more, everything's bad and bad and BAD. We know this much.

Except, not. Ever since the forties, Gallup have surveyed - well - more or less everything. And one of their survey questions that's been asked consistently since then is this: "Do you happen to be reading any books or novels at the moment?"

There's a good article about this at The Atlantic, but as a headline, it's pretty great, isn't it? And here's the actual survey results from the horse's mouth, Gallup.

Doubtless, someone will say that the books being read today are of lower quality than they were in the fifties, but piss off: there's no evidence for that. This is one of those nice things that pushes back against that Old Git tendency to say that Things Aren't As Good As They Used To Be.

I know nothing about this clip but I would have liked to have been there ... despite Billy's erm, workout routine.

So, for reasons I can only guess at, this tune popped into my head today. I probably haven't heard it for ten years, but I suddenly thought of it and had to listen to it.

I imagine this happens to most of us. Any blasts from the past suddenly reared their heads lately, Massive?

(Busta Rhymes - Fire It Up - song starts in earnest around 1:02)

My goodness, I'm bored. It's like the Risen Lord™ is punishing me for my atheistic ways by not allowing Waitrose and Gap to open. Or Maplins. What's a hellbound infidel to do?

The Resurrection: officially In My Bad Books.

Last night I took a taxi to The Empire. A dark-panelled, former church in the University area of Belfast, it attracts the arty student set. And me.

(Contd.)

Inconsequential blogvent ahoy.

Ordered new broadband and phone from BT. Mrs B takes a day's holiday, a week ago, to wait in for confirmed engineer visit. No show. Now a week without broadband. They just left me a message to say they'll install it in two weeks' time. I have just got very cross with them.

So, yeah, if you're reading this, BT Infinity team, you're shit and you know you are. On current showing, I'd advise the Massive to stay well away.

Grrr.

(Sorry about that. It was either blog it or break something.)

Oh, and natch - my view is my own and nothing to do with The Word magazine or Development Hell Ltd. etc etc.

Patient - I think I'm going deaf.
Doctor - What are the symptoms?
Patient - A cartoon family from America.

That (if I may quote the master, Beezer) would appear to be it.