Clive Davis

MANNERS

A typically thoughtful post by Reihan Salam on the difficulties of blogging and being thin-skinned: "I'm just so convinced (wrongly, perhaps) that I'm a decent guy that I'm genuinely bummed when people electronically conclude that I should be stabbed."

Another etiquette story: a few days before she left for India, my wife rode her usual commuter train from Paddington. In one of the carriages, two heavily-built young black guys were playing a single hip-hop track over and over at deafening volume. People could hear it at the far end of the train. The noise droned on for around half-an-hour until the two amateur DJs got off at their stop. No one intervened or complained. Heads were buried in newspapers. My wife, who arrived home with a mini-migraine, thinks it would have been crazy to have tried anything, knowing the risks. I think I would have got a group of men together to ask for the music to be turned down. Then again, I wasn't travelling home, weary, on a train service that's maddeningly unreliable, with no conductor on board.

THE QUR'AN GOES COUNTRY

An American Muslim with a taste for Nashville... I'm not familiar with his music, but this interview makes me want to find out more:

There's some kind of a soul in country music - I don't want to compare it to the Qur'an at all - but the melody... I sang a song a capella to somebody and then I recited the Qur'an to a non-Muslim and they said there's something similar there. They're different in that the Qur'an is not sung, but there's something that comes from deeper down...

LESS THAN EPIC

The new Tolkien, condensed:

"Forsooth," he swore. "Henceforth shall I remain a derivative Wagnerian hero and wander mindlessly through the realms of Middle-Earth on a quasi-symbolic quest and, Children of the Eldar, resolve only to talk in sentences of unspeakable leadenness, punctuated by manifold parentheses."

[Via Bookslut]

DIFFERENT TYPES OF PARENTING

Having been raised in a single-parent family, back in the days when it was a rare phenomenon, I've never needed much convincing that having both parents around is, generally, a much better option. A week of playing Mum and Dad has reminded me of that. I can't remember the last time I've felt so tired. My working day has shrunk yet more, and by the time I sit down after cooking, cleaning and policing it's gone nine o'clock and I can barely keep my eyes open during a re-run of Seinfeld. (Or Lost. After announcing I'd kicked the habit, I've slipped back into watching it.) Ah well, only eleven days to go.  And it's good to be reminded that there are other, trickier domestic permutations:

Half of the time we are four. But when we are four, we are sometimes two and two. Occasionally we are two and one. Sometimes we are just two.

Confessions of a Psychotherapist, a site I discovered via Dave Hill, has lots more to say on the art of being a step-mother.

NOTEBOOK

I have often, particularly on a Sunday, met groups of negroes, elegantly dressed; and have been sometimes been amused by observing the very superior air of gallantry assumed by the men, when in attendance on their "belles", to that of the whites in similar circumstances. On one occasion we met in Broadway a young negress in the extreme of the fashion, and accompanied by a black beau, whose toilet was equally studied; eye-glass, guard-chain, nothing was omitted; he walked beside his sable goddess uncovered, and with an air of the most tender devotion. At the window of a handsome house which they were passing, stood a very pretty white girl, with two gentlemen beside here; but alas! both of them had their hats on, and one was smoking!

Fanny Trollope, Domestic Manners of the Americans.

CULTURE CLASH

The difference between trendy Brighton and staid Hove, as defined by PooterGeek... Brilliant.

SPEAK SOFTLY AND CARRY A BIG MICROPHONE

Alex Massie has some useful advice for American politicians:

Voters and interested parties around the globe hear everything the President or the leading contenders to succeed Bush say. You can no longer say one thing for domestic consumption and another for a foreign audience... Now for a spot of special pleading! Candidates for the Presidency might want to rethink how they deal with the foreign press. No-one expects McCain or Clinton or whoever to grant the same level of access to the foreign press they reserve for the NYT or WaPo, but a little more consideration and tact would go a long way.

HITS, MISSES

One of the more dubious aspects of West End theatre-going - apart from the overpriced tickets, cramped seats, crowded bars and interruptions from mobile phones - is the time-honoured tradition of quoting critics' reviews out of context in publicity material. By wrenching the words around, producers regularly make a silk purse out of a pig's ear. But, as Stage blogger Mark Shenton reports, an EU directive is winging its way towards Shaftesbury Avenue. Max Bialystock, your days are numbered.

NOT THE USUAL SUSPECTS

Are my ears deceiving me? An even-handed and nuanced programme about anti-Americanism? I missed the first instalment of Justin Webb's R4 series, Death to America, but just caught up with the second, an examination of what people in Latin America - and especially Venezuela -  think about Uncle Sam. Sharp intakes of breath from the radicals as our man with the microphone asks awkward questions about whether hostility to yanqui power is sometimes a smokescreen for local failures. Excellent, thought-provoking radio.

Webb has spoken up on this subject before, as you may recall. He'll be reporting from Cairo next week. As soon as I have a free moment, I'll listen to the first programme as well.

WORK IN PROGRESS

I meant to post this on St George's Day, but as I've already explained, things have been hectic around here. That quintessentially English artist, Stanley Spencer is the subject of an affectionate tribute in the arts festival on my home patch, with dozens of local painters creating a gigantic, open-air reproduction of one of his late works, Dinner on the Hotel Lawn. I think he would have liked it.

You can see the original - held at the Tate - if you click this link.