The Laughing Buddha Looks On

F**k it's August already...

noreply@blogger.com (laughingbuddhalookson) — Fri, 05 Aug 2011 21:30:00 +0000

My creativity bottomed to absolute zero. Quite frustrating and I also seemed to have inherited a distinct feeling of apathy usually reserved for a Liberal Democrat voter. My British counterparts encourage it, along with cynicism, general moaning and prime time TV cop dramas. It's been almost a year since I returned to the UK and I've done no writing whatsoever apart from my New Year summary. Nadda. Not one ounce. Zip. It's disgraceful, I know. This blog has probably filed a missing persons report on me. Despite my apathy, I have been craving to be creative but not found the inspiration to sit myself down in front of the many 'Steve Jobs designed' items and just 'write'.

So this is me starting again. It might as well be the beginning as I think my previous blog entries were getting on the little self reflective side, so much so, the writers of 'Dawson's Creek' were probably chasing commission on them.

Watch this space.

This Year I...

noreply@blogger.com (laughingbuddhalookson) — Sun, 02 Jan 2011 19:17:00 +0000

watched two teenagers simulate sex by my feet ... worked for Cate Blanchett ... organised my first and last hen's do ... had a famous hobbit kick a bottle of my urine ... saw my sister so happy she cried ... gained a new brother ... got a third world disease ... said goodbye to Justin/said hello to Justin ... saw JFK's house and golf course ... cycled on the wrong side of the road ... finally saw Kristin Chenoweth and Angela Lansbury sing ... made some fab new New York friends ... trod the boards of a Broadway theatre ... went to the Tonys ... met Mr Schuster ... cried at a puppet horse ... flew with Jack Bauer ... revisited old friends ... took a 36 hour flight ... left Australia and returned home ... became a lady of leisure ... welcomed my singing teacher to London ... had the best year ever!

It's Taken Me Until November...

noreply@blogger.com (laughingbuddhalookson) — Tue, 02 Nov 2010 22:17:00 +0000

It seems breaking your hands and deciding to move one’s life 10,000 miles back to the UK has resulted in my blog being severely neglected over these past few months. Four entries this year and that is frankly unacceptable. To those of you who have logged on looking for the next gripping installment of ‘The Laughing Buddha’ only to find the same old entry loading up in your browser, I apologise profusely. It must be like flicking through the TV channels only to find the only thing worth watching is a rerun of ‘Friends’ on E4. Personally, it’s quite frustrating as I try and pride myself on being disciplined enough to keep this diary of musings going. I can only blame distraction, apathy and most of all lack of inspiration due to my head being full of half baked plans that I have been urging into realisation. Kicking my life into, well, something that resembles ‘a life’ I suppose.

I find myself in a state of flux (hardly anything new I hear you cry) which is not just a mental state for me but it seems to be materialising in several other aspects of my life like my career, my home and even some of my friendships. Being back in London is unfathomably easy and way too familiar for my liking. It is the mental equivalent of slipping on an old pair of slippers, yet this time I also have my eye on a shiny pair of new shoes (the shoes in question happen to be in a swanky New York department store, on sale and put on hold behind the counter with my name on them, making them especially alluring even though I am stuck on a different continent). My life has moved on so dramatically now, that certain parts of it that once fit in quite easily with my daily routine now seem to be totally defunct or inappropriate. You’d think living out of a suitcase since April and not working properly since July would throw me into further disarray but to be perfectly honest I have never been more happy in my life than right now. Attempting to carve out a new life back in London, not knowing if this next step is the right step forward, is the thing that fills me with the most unease and doubt.

The idea of sitting behind a desk and working for someone else fills me with so much dread I’d rather vomit onto a porcupine then lick it up. I have to be creative. I cannot and will not settle for anything less. Sounds dramatic and I suppose it is. For the first time in my life the thought of permanence and routine bores me - this used to be the safety net I would seek out and hold onto desperately to in order to give my life structure. I don’t know what the antidote is but I know I need to step out and embrace my creative side again. I need to be embrace the unknown and allow creativity to flow back into my bones. It scares me as I really don’t really know how to achieve this. I feel like a priest who’s been asked to become an atheist or a dog being ordered to meow. I know what’s involved, I’ve seen other people do it, I just don’t have the tools available to make it the transition. I read the fantastic book ‘The Creative Habit’ by the choreographer Twyla Tharp which has been a great starting block for me as it’s practical and full of sound advice. No airy fairy crap most self-help books insist on preaching. I realise it’s just inexperience and fear that holds me back mostly. Practicality is also an issue, I simply don’t have the funds to suddenly be a full time writer or performer. I went to a talk given by Stephen Sondheim, a musical theatre hero mine and to many other theatre fans. He spoke about his mentor Oscar Hammerstein II and it made me think how envious I was the had someone in his life who saw enough potential in him to be something greater than he was. I’d quite like a mentor. A guiding and enthusing force of good in my life. I can lend my talents towards many things but my concentration and impatience tends to let me down. I am reminded of this constantly with the random notebooks full of ideas stuffed in various bags and boxes of mine, the half finished documents and scripts on my computer or the songs yet to be memorised and technically mastered. I do wonder if it’s cynicism, perhaps indecisiveness or even age that stops me from committing or just a life long habit I have failed to keep in check. To be great at one thing when I have the urge to do a hundred million things all at once. ‘Focus’ is the big word I need to remind myself of over the next few months.

Sorry, what was that?

A Couple of Screws...

noreply@blogger.com (laughingbuddhalookson) — Tue, 10 Aug 2010 01:26:00 +0000

Those who know me know that last year I had an accident. Quite a big one. I broke my hands. Yes, that's right - in the plural sense. In fact, I broke eight bones in total - both wrists that now have what are affectionately known as 'Herbert Screws', some other small bones in my left hand and most significantly my left arm, which needed a 'Wolverine' style plate bolted into place. I only realised today, I never wrote in detail about how this happened but to cut a long story short: I was on a date.

You'd think this would have been quite an ordeal for me, well it was and quite hideously painful too (strange how I curiously never imagined broken bones to be that painful until then) This aside, the episode wasn't that surprising given my track record with dating; just ask my friends. So much so, when news of my injury reached my best friend back home in London, it didn't illicit a sympathetic and frantically worried call, no quite the opposite really. As I lay in the hospital bed with my arms bound in plaster and bandages, with my iPhone on speaker mode balanced precariously on my chest, I could hear the faint unimpressed voice of my friend Dan say "Richard, it's time to write that book now."

I've toyed with the idea of writing about my dating escapades every now and then, I've even posted a few of them on here - but a whole book? Too self indulgent and self deprecating perhaps? It sounded like a crazy idea before and too 'Bridget Jones' for my liking but now I'm thinking it might not be such an idiotic idea after all. Gay fiction in general makes me want to hurl into a cheap plastic carrier bag in front a room full of strangers and the only gay biographical authors I do admire are David Sedaris and Augusten Burroughs. I'd have to have some message beyond "Hey look at the crazy dating antics of this guy, ain't he hysterical?!" Writing something bigger than a few paragraphs is what this blog has been leading up to I suppose; the trick is for me is to stop thinking and actually do more and just sit down and write goddamn it. Am I capable of doing it? I just have to let go of being such a perfectionist and allowing myself to be distracted by, let's face it, everything.

Where to start?

Here's the wonderful David Sedaris reading and extract from his last book "When You Are Engulfed In Flames":

Move On...

noreply@blogger.com (laughingbuddhalookson) — Sat, 24 Jul 2010 00:40:00 +0000

"Stop worrying where you're going - move on. If you can know where you're going, you've gone. Just keep moving on." Dot professes to the confused artist George in the Sondheim musical, 'Sunday in the Park with George'.

Over two years ago I moved to Australia. Two years of radical change. Two years of self-discovery. Two years of rest and recuperation. Two years of growth. Two years that needed to happen. If my life was a movie, this would be the penultimate scene right before the end, where phrases like "Well, it's certainly been an adventure!" would be uttered and people would starting hugging each other goodbye as they march off into the sunset. This isn't the kind of adventure I've had at all really. I've still not seen Uluru or been to Western Australia, I've done a few touristy things but certainly not conquered the country or anything - I doubt I ever will either. I'm quite happy for the multitudes of backpackers to continue sampling Australia's sights and sounds I've missed. My adventure here was about prioritising my life, which I admit sounds as thrilling as a tax return party organised by Accountants of Dagenham, but honestly it's probably the best thing I've done with my life.

Not many people get to dissect their life and personality under the cold light of day but "snow globing my life" as I like to call it, has allowed me to do just that. Routine, fear of insecurity and delusion cloud most people from ever having to face this head on and is usually only reserved for for teenagers or 40 year olds going through a midlife crisis. For example, I realise I will always be more comfortable knowing I am doing the exact opposite to everyone else. I loathe it when something I love becomes popular with the masses so I prefer to move on - do something different. I also know I am my most happiest when I'm performing, working within the theatre, understanding 'an audience' and this is something I intend to rectify when I get back to city life.

I get annoyed when people assume I hate Sydney because I want to leave. Why would I want to abandon such a great lifestyle to return to noisy, expensive, economically unstable city they ask? I still think Sydney is a great place to live and fulfills a purpose with it's sun-drenched, hedonistic, carefree lifestyle which the city's inhabitants relish daily. This city has given me a tremendous amount and shown me I'm capable of achieving anything, that spontaneity has it's own unique rewards. You can get drunk on culture in London and thrive off the buzz of New York and a few years ago too much of this 'city life' became overwhelming but I now sorely miss this, I really do.

So, next steps? Well, they're partly out of my control. The one thing I'm sure of is that I have to move on.

Going Home...

noreply@blogger.com (laughingbuddhalookson) — Sun, 20 Jun 2010 07:10:00 +0000

At the end of "The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe" the Pevensie children grow up to be great Kings and Queens after their adventures with Aslan, only to find themselves back in the real world after stumbling across the old lamp post that once brought them to the magical land of Narnia. Even though they have lived a lifetime, nothing has changed since Lucy first stepped through the wardrobe. Australia it seems is my Narnia. I've done a million and one things, grown personally and then some but back in London things haven't changed. I almost felt as though I was bragging unnecessarily when I told friends what I was doing with my life now, as if I was Edmund describing to a row of confused faces, how I slayed a White Witch and befriended a talking Lion.

It's only been two days and I can't quite process how I feel to be back yet, it's been ridiculously familiar but strangely divorced at the same time. Certain elements of my life here have either changed or feel redundant, whether it be my old bedroom or favourite cafe, banter between particular friends and so forth. There's certainly a small amount of personal grieving that comes with the fact nostalgia is the only thing that has kept certain experiences alive.

Thankfully, certain friends have never waivered, their faces beam like giant lighthouses guiding me back safely to what was so great about my life here. These are the people I have longed to spend even just five meager minutes with while I was in Australia. Their news - comforting, their friendship - easy.

So here I am, back in London after two and half years. Right now, and without sounding too new age, I feel as though 'my journey' isn't complete yet. I'm not ready to come home, if I can help it. New York is the definitely the next destination, I just need to secure that opportunity and it will happen. I'm ready for it. If I did have to return to the UK, it wouldn't be so terrible, it would just be harder as I'd have to make a conscious effort to move myself on and not slip back into routine. I've achieved so much since breaking away from my old life, so it would frustrating if I let it take over once more.

Like Edmund and Lucy, I'd like to ensure I have a few more trips back before I have to grow up and settle back home once more.

This Year I...

noreply@blogger.com (laughingbuddhalookson) — Thu, 31 Dec 2009 04:43:00 +0000

... became permanent ... created a laughing buddha ... began looking after Glinda and Elphaba ... moved to the most famous beach in the world ... broke both my hands on a date ... got osteoporosis ... had my mum fly 10,000 miles to nurse me ... caught up with some old friends of Jerry ... hit a top C ... watched John Bucchino tinkle the ivories ... got a lawyer ... had physio ... made friends with Brazil and Adelaide ... saw Patti coming up roses ... chipped a tooth on a creme brulee ... was moved to tears by a singing bipolar grieving mother ... saw old friends in the Big Apple ... celebrated my first Thanksgiving ... experienced 30 mins of New York ice hockey ... hung out at Hollywood star's home in LA ... flew with Jack Bauer ... met a boy.

Stephen Fry's Best Bits...

noreply@blogger.com (laughingbuddhalookson) — Sun, 08 Nov 2009 12:00:00 +0000

ON HIS COMEDY PARTNER HUGH LAURIE IN "HOUSE"
One of the hardest things to do is act smart. But you actually believe that he is intelligent (2006)

ASKED BY HIS SCHOOL CAREERS OFFICER WHAT JOB HE ENVISAGED FOR HIMSELF
School Careers Officer (1973)

ON TECHNOLOGY
I have never had fewer than 10 working Macs on the go since the late 80s (2007)

TO AN INTERVIEWER ON TV-AM
Not wishing – in any way – to correct you, but it is pronounced Worcester, not Wooster… in the same way that it's Woodhouse not Wodehouse (1992)

ON LIVING IN SWAFFHAM IN NORFOLK
You see it all. You see your hoody pikey chavvies, you see your happy-slapping. But it's leavened by a bit of fluffy Englishness and damp tweed. It's just what it should be (2007)

ON CONVERSATION AT CRICKET MATCHES
You don't get people going round saying: "Did it work for you?" and "It seems to me there's a sense in which…", like those awful scum on late-night BBC2 shows (1999)

ON TECHNICAL PROBLEMS
My life is a shattered bowl of arse (2009)

HOSTING A CHARITY EVENT
As the Archbishop of Canterbury likes to say: "That's enough tedious wank. Let's party!" (1991)

ON PHYSICAL CONGRESS
Sex does not enrich or deepen a relationship – it permanently cheapens and destabilises it (1985)

15 YEARS BEFORE "STEPHEN FRY ON AMERICA"
I get terribly depressed with the English obsession with America. These wasted little people with their baseball hats, who usually live in Newport Pagnell, who say: "Did you watch the Bears game yesterday?" Oh go away, go and live there, for God's sake (1992)

ON HIS DEMEANOUR
I have a smug air that I've done everything short of cutting my face open to try and get rid of (2009)

ON WEIGHT GAIN
I am currently developing myself for digital widescreen (1999)

AFTER BEING TOLD, BY ONE OF ALMOST ONE MILLION FOLLOWERS, THAT HIS TWEETS WERE "A BIT BORING"
You've convinced me. I'm obviously not good enough. I retire from Twitter. Bye everyone (2009)

HOSTING "QI"
Welcome to QI, the show that rhymes with Stephen Fry (2006)

Taken from The Observer article by John Hind, 8 November 2009

Nobel Gestures...

noreply@blogger.com (laughingbuddhalookson) — Sun, 11 Oct 2009 00:23:00 +0000

Lest we forget, 10 months ago one man gave America and the rest of the world included, the hope it needed to convince themselves that 'hope' was possible in times of a global crisis. A global crisis we are still enduring and fighting to overcome. For a period of time, we acknowledged this significant moment in history for what it was and gave it the attention it rightly deserved, attention usually reserved for Angelina Jolie's children or Lindsay Lohan's rehab exploits. America recognised to move on. The nation needed to change its future, its attitude and President Elect Obama was to be this symbol of inspiration. In a frank and anticipated moment before Election Day, people were worried this time in their bruised and battered history would never happen, that another inept, uncharismatic Republican would be elected again and all hopes would be dashed in finally electing someone of true revolutionary value. But the totally unthinkable actually came true. Obama was finally voted into office. A "Goddam black man" as a bemused Texan plantation owner would say, became the most powerful man in the western world.

America needed this to happen. Hell, the whole world needed Obama. So we looked up too. That's right, we took noticed of American politics in a way we never had before and he engaged us with his eloquence and promised with staid humility he would do his best to make his country great again and give his nation the respect from the rest of the world once more. For the first time, cynics were subdued for a little while as we allowed ourselves to be carried by the swell.

But only for a little while.

What is interesting about this week's announcement that President Obama is to be this year's recipient of the Nobel Peace Prize, is the fact he himself has been first up to the block to express his complete surprise of being nominated and recognise he has yet to fulfill such a legacy worthy of such a distinguished prize. Despite Obama's seemingly lack of credentials, I congratulate him on receiving the Nobel Peace Prize. No, he has not created schools in desolate areas of a third world country or championed civil rights in a part of the world with an oppressive regime. He has yet to fulfill his legacy and like the rest of the world, I hope he lives up to his promise. Obama has done what anyone in his position would do, he has taken the accolade with humility and vowed to do his best to live up to it. Yes, we should be questioning the decisions of Nobel jury, bestowing a prize of this nature puts enormous pressure on him to succeed and is somewhat preemptive. I imagine Republicans are smacking their hands together in glee and anticipation to see "the Great Obama" being set up once again for an even greater fall from grace. It gives the opposition the opportunity to attack and pour criticism over Obama's lack of achievements since he entered the White House. To me, this makes as much sense as attacking Sean Pean for winning Best Actor last year and not the Academy who voted for him.

I worry about the danger of, dare I use the word 'mankind's pessimism'. For us to be united and overcome issues like the global recession or nuclear weapons development, we have to change our mindset and we have to work together. I realise this is an idealistic notion to demand from the cynical selfish world we live in, but past history shows us we are capable of achieving great things in times of crisis if forces work in unison. Is it necessary we have to endure another 9/11 or plunge into further economic crisis for us to be able to do this? Do we really have to perpetuate politician's skepticism so they can prove a point and live up to the reputation of being all rhetoric and no substance or do we allow ourselves to give into something greater? Unfortunately, I have no grand answers to this but I do feel it's important to at least, in some small way, stand up and say "I'm with you, I support what you're doing". I am grateful and have huge admiration for the one man who has managed to get me more politicised and more interested in government than any other politician I've known in my lifetime. I'm probably not the only one who has been influenced by President Obama in this small but important way either. We live in an apathetic world. Where more people vote for the X Factor than in their local elections. We have either been jaded by far too much rhetoric in the past or have grown up simply not caring anymore. But now we have a potential new generation who are inspired again by politics. Now to be able to do that especially for Gen Y, well, that does needs rewarding.

Who Are These People Bill?...

noreply@blogger.com (laughingbuddhalookson) — Mon, 28 Sep 2009 13:58:00 +0000

Watch this video for the launch of Windows 7. Actually, you won't watch all of it as you will be left dumbstruck within the first minute.

Who are these people? Are they actually suggesting I host a party to launch a Windows programme? Are they that desperate for people to use this new system they have to hire actors to pretend this is normal behaviour? I'd like to remind Microsoft of the Apple advertising campaigns. Did they honestly think these ads would surpass them somehow? As you can see by the number of question marks used in my first paragraph alone, it has baffled me completely how an ad campaign like this could ever be approved. Actually, scrub that thought, having worked in the industry for far too long, I should know better. There is probably more to write about this hilarious travesty but I will leave you to absorb its great banality for now.

Consumer Advice...

noreply@blogger.com (laughingbuddhalookson) — Sun, 09 Aug 2009 13:38:00 +0000

Fantastic. Charlie Brooker has just described Transformers 2 as:

"being pinned to the ground while an angry dishwasher shat in your face for two hours."

I never tire of this man's adept use of words. Genius in a pent up ball of journalistic frustration. More from the "miserable writerist" can be found here.

Funny Guy...

noreply@blogger.com (laughingbuddhalookson) — Sun, 26 Jul 2009 01:32:00 +0000

This man goes on my BFM list. A list I've not talked about in a while actually, in fact I think I skipped a whole year as I compiled my list back in 2007. Probably because my enthusiasm for the male variety of the species has waned over the years. Someone really has to 'knock my socks off' you know, they really do.

Sorry, I digress. This is Seth MacFarlane.

You'd probably recognise his voice more than his face. As he is the creator of Family Guy. Also the writer, producer and the voice of Peter, Stewie, Brian and Quagmire . He is also the creator of American Dad, The Cleveland Show and is the highest paid producer in television. He's at that level of ridiculously, talented, rich, smart and funny that makes your arsehole quiver with jealousy.

So Seth qualifies. And if I lived in LA, I'd be trying to casually brush past him in Starbucks or something. I can hear the school girl mutterings and the suppressed laughter of those who are thinking "Fancying a multi-millionaire now that's an original one". Work with me here people. It's my online fantasy list who else am I meant to be putting on here?

So what does my 2009 BFM LIST look like now?

DANIEL BOYS - ACTOR.
Musical Theatre performer and current star of Avenue Q in the West End. An incredibly successful career since losing 'Any Dream Will Do' and has even done a duet with John Barrowman singing 'I Know Him So Well'. He's also the only one on my list I've actually met. Three times. All occasions slightly awkward. And of which all portrayed me as slightly weird.

STEPHEN OREMUS - MUSICAL ARRANGER / DIRECTOR.
Another Theatre Type. A highly respected man who has worked on Wicked, Avenue Q and most recently 9 to 5: The Musical. Has also worked with the likes of Rufus Wainwright on his Judy Garland tribute at the London Palladium. Looks great from behind holding a baton too.

STEVE GROVE - HEAD OF NEWS & POLITICS FOR YOUTUBE.
Came to my attention during the 2008/2009 Election Campaign in America with his insights and commentary on Citizentube. Even took the time to reply to my Facebook message. Also has eyes you could drown in and gives me hope brains and beauty is actually possible in a man. I have an odd feeling though he probably has a girlfriend called something irritatingly cliched like 'Mandy' or 'Cassie'.

MARK RUFFALO - ACTOR.
First noticed him in 'Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind' then really fell for the bearded one in 'We Don't Live Here Anymore'. Tends to be cast as the long suffering boyfriend type in his more mainstream movies when he's not doing the more interesting stuff like 'In the Cut' and 'Zodiac'. Which is more than fine by me.

AARON SORKIN - SCREENWRITER.
The man behind 'The West Wing'. Need I say more. He is a genius amongst men. I would have his babies if I could learn how to write just a fraction of what he's capable of. Plus he once dated Kristen Chenoweth, so he obviously likes short people who sing loudly.

SETH MACFARLANE - TV PRODUCER/WRITER/ACTOR.
Creator of 'Family Guy' and all round creative genius with the same twisted warped, controversial sense of humour as myself. A man who can make me laugh goes a long way. Well enough about Seth. I've dedicated this entry to him which is far too much fawning for one day.

If I think of anymore I'll just update this entry. Still musing if Hugh Jackman should go on there or not again. Right, back to the real world and the plethora of men who wait at my door. Why do I suddenly feel like Mr Banks about to interview nannies in Mary Poppins just then?

Temporary...

noreply@blogger.com (laughingbuddhalookson) — Sat, 20 Jun 2009 13:55:00 +0000

I watched John Bucchino tonight. Yes, you know John Bucchino? John? Okay I admit, I didn't know who he was either until about a month ago. I was first introduced to his music when Jeremy picked one of his songs for me to sing. I did a bit of digging and downloading and discovered a whole wealth of staggeringly beautiful songs. Many of which have been sung by Broadway greats such as Liza Minnelli, Kristen Chenoweth, Patti Lupone etc. He's also penned a lesser known musical called 'A Catered Affair'. I've fallen in love with his music a bit as it's the right combination of wry humour and the bittersweet that I love to sing about. He's friends with Stephen Sondheim and Stephen Schwartz apparently. I don't know if they've had any direct influence with his writing but I wouldn't be surprised if they have. He performed a amazing little number tonight about simply chatting up a good-looking bar man and fantasizing about taking him home. It was both awkward, candid and hilariously real. I'm currently learning his song 'Not A Cloud In The Sky' about an obsessive, control freak who is trying not to flip out about the fact his lover is actually dying of AIDS. I know it doesn't sound like a bundle of laughs but check his songs out, I dare you not to be moved by them.

Here is a video of a very talent lady called Patti Loach singing 'Temporary', a song of he wrote involving how a mother explains to her young son why his father who is off fighting in some war, might not come home. I love this song, it's so tender and loving and heartbreaking at the same time. The camera work is dodgy at the start but the sound quality is pretty good for a self recorded video.

Politics and Love...

noreply@blogger.com (laughingbuddhalookson) — Sat, 30 May 2009 01:59:00 +0000

It still mystifies me how allowing two people to 'marry' regardless of who they are, somehow denigrates another person's ideology regarding the definition of marriage. I see a couple recognising their partnership being based on love, commitment, being able to express this to each other and with family and loved ones. This is only thing that matters when it comes down to the proverbial brass tacks. The framework to how this 'partnership' or 'marriage' is founded upon varies throughout so many different countries, cultures, religions and beliefs. Marriage by definition cannot be defined by one sect.

I must mention now, I am not talking about the legal definition of marriage, as this has a different agenda and meaning when it comes to law and politics. Government, taxes and your bank manager don't care who you are unless there's an economic advantage to it. Political equality is never seemingly about social equality these days unless for an election rally. Hence politicians and their reluctance to lobby for it and frequently clouding the issue when there is no due cause fight for it. It is usually up those personally driven to lead the way and stir up social discussion. Matt Alber, a LA based gay singer songwriter wrote in his blog about moving away from the traditional campaigning for gay rights and focusing on taking a different approach and building it up from a grassroots level: in the home, at school, in the workplace. Only then will people realise we lead quite average, everyday lives just like our straight counterparts.

The definition of the word 'marriage' has been the key issue that has got Americans in California to uphold Proposition 8 this week. It is the only reason why many people voted against it. Many who upheld Prop 8, saw it as an infringement against their own belief system or 'way of life'. How Greg and Alex's marriage plans in San Francisco affects Helen the devout Catholic and her family in San Diego is beyond me. But this is how it has been fed to the masses and I feel for people like Matt who have had to suffer directly because of this awful politically driven, ill-informed decision making.

How does one protect 'marriage' in a world where there are increasing divorce rates amongst hetrosexual couples who are allowed to marry in the first place? Statistics show in countries where gay marriage is legalised, the divorce rate is significantly lower with gay couples than their straight counterparts. This belief system of protecting marriage is only ever weakened by those whose abuse the meaning and by those whose use a doctrine of faith to irrationally argue against the issue in question, having to resort to quoting scripture and using blanket condemnation. It's hard enough to say 'I love you' and really mean it, so it's awful to be denied the chance to say it when opportunity does come along. Stirring more intolerance and division in a world that is becoming increasingly smaller and more homogenized, saddens my heart a great deal. I have no answers to this issue, as we are all different. We should learn to just let the other side live but that will never realistically happen. There is much unhappiness in the world, if two people find love whether gay, Nazis or a pair of Fresian cows, it seems an awful waste of misguided energy and bitterness to fight against it. We should be celebrating the one part of human nature that makes us wonderful and unique after all.

As corny as it sounds we should be letting love hold hands with whoever it likes.

Poor Susan...

noreply@blogger.com (laughingbuddhalookson) — Tue, 26 May 2009 09:58:00 +0000

Oh dear. Ms Boyle fucked up on live television.

Yet the public continue to clap wildly as if the Emperor truly was wearing garments made from the finest silks in all the land.

She sang off key and for a moment became the incredibly average spinster who is a tad mental but who could carry the odd tune, the woman she always has been basically. Not the 'National Treasure' we've been told to clutch to our cynical bosom.

Oh how hearts must have sunk yesterday. Yet the media has already sold us the idea of 'Susan Boyle' so we can't go back on our word now surely? She's still an inspiration to us all. A "beacon of light in our dark tunnels" as Princess Diana herself once admitted in her own televised meltdown. Of course back then, the phrase the media embraced was the 'Queen of People's Hearts' and not the previous more revealing line that, well, made her also sound a tad mental.

I posted on my Facebook status that I had more talent in my left ball sack than Susan Boyle and have been immediately harangued and accused of being jealous and incredibly unsupportive.

How amusing. Of what exactly?

So, Do, La, Fa, Mi, Do, Re....

noreply@blogger.com (laughingbuddhalookson) — Fri, 01 May 2009 07:04:00 +0000

Just watching this makes me feel so happy I could cry. Which I realise is quite possibly the soppiest thing ever for me to do. Must be the inner 'Julie Andrews' trilling inside me. If only the world was this spontaneous and well choreographed.

Pure Genuis! Great ad campaign for the Belgiums too.

Politics Did Get Sexier...

noreply@blogger.com (laughingbuddhalookson) — Mon, 20 Apr 2009 05:36:00 +0000

I forgot to tell you I actually got a message from Steve Grove, Head of News & Politics for YouTube after the U.S. Elections. It's short but made me giddy like a school girl for a mere life enhancing five minutes. You have to love Facebook for just being able to let this communication even happen!

How A Dream Is Seen...

noreply@blogger.com (laughingbuddhalookson) — Sun, 19 Apr 2009 01:37:00 +0000

As much as I am overjoyed for Susan Boyle from Blackburn being propelled into the limelight for singing 'I Dreamed A Dream' on the reality TV Show 'Britain's Got Talent', I can't help getting angry once again at the media's thrust and moral lecturing they've inflicted on the general public because she is old, frumpy but exceptionally talented and has now captured the nation's hearts so to speak. As if we weren't aware that these people existed until now. Like these individuals such as Ms Boyle and Paul Potts are kept in a box marked 'Average Overly Talented People: Do Not Open - In Case of Media Shut Down Emergencies Only'. There are articles everywhere now, I believe the Daily Mail in it's usual derivative style described her as a 'hairy angel', Entertainment Weekly in the States is prime example of a publication assuming we are as fickle and uneducated as they are. Lisa Schwarzbaum enlightens us by saying:

"She pierced my defenses. She reordered the measure of beauty. And I had no idea until tears sprang how desperately I need that corrective from time to time."

The Times says she offers "redemption for the sin of superficiality"

My instant reaction to these epiphanies and serious introspection to what is essentially, lest we all forget, a talented 47 year old singing a showtune on ITV who are desperate for any publicity to increase their ratings, was to exclaimed the words "Oh For Fuck Sake" very loudly.

Hopefully, I am making up for my lack of eloquence now. Again, I feel saddened that the general public do not speak up and demand a more educated insight from its media. Maybe I should be more accepting of the fact most of the general public are plain simple and demand very little to be swayed in a certain direction by such expert manipulators. How I sometimes wish working in the media hadn't also turned me into such a cynical bastard, just so I could just 'enjoy the ride' like the rest of the hoi polloi. But I can't help thinking most of the time, our relationship with the media is as if we're in the passenger seat of a Ferrari being driven by a 17 year old whose just got his licence - we're loving the journey and feel of it all but forgetting the experience of the person behind the wheel. Perhaps I have an affinity towards an abused underdog and will always be maddened at people's miraculous discovery that none of us should be judged on our appearance. Still the PR treadmill churns full steam ahead without my opinion or grimace. I'm even writing about it on my blog when I should be telling you all about my broken limbs. So the programmers publicity team will be pleased.

Whatever happens to Susan Boyle, I hope she manages to work on her lower register, As if I was being completely honest here, it was a little shaky and Elaine Paige will no doubt notice it if they do a duet together. More importantly, I hope she manages to find someone to look after her cat Pebbles while she is whisked off to another world called Fame.

And onto Sydney to seek a gentlemen of worth and value...

noreply@blogger.com (laughingbuddhalookson) — Mon, 13 Apr 2009 05:28:00 +0000

Dearest Elinor,

It has been many months since my last correspondence with you and I must immediately apologise for my tardiness and the long and overdue period of silence that has left you bereft of information regarding my new situation here in Sydney.

Ever since my ship has set sail to the Colonies in the Pacific, my journey has been one of ardor and enlightenment. Certainly, the degree of which I have embraced my new life has been dictated by the necessary arrangements to feel at home in my new surroundings, but I am pleased to inform you I feel very settled indeed in my new home.

Now, I hear you inquire, about these men of the New World? I believe you must be quite eager to hear my stories of social and coital engagements with the surly gentlemen of this fine coutry, whom may I add, know no nothing of high tea or of grand balls in Meryton. Be patient no more dearest Elinor and I shall reveal all.

The search for love and a suitable single man in command of good fortune continues still, I am afraid to report. There have been two or three significant encounters during my travels of the 'Wilderness' they call Sydney. Traversing through the lanes of the Eastern Suburbs I have met a number of significant gentlemen who were fair of face and of good breeding. I use the word 'significant' to emphasise the fact there were others who caught my eye. But alas, unfortunately this is all they did. For certainty, I might as well have caught a head cold and experienced greater joy and pleasure from the experience of meeting them.

The men of this country are a predictable breed I have deduced. Many of the maturer gentlemen pride themselves in their appearance and groom themselves quite intensely and 'work out' a great deal. This gives many the illusion of youth and vigor but does nothing to improve their seemingly apparent lack of personality and individualism. The more younger of the men who parade down Sydney's Oxford St are also bereft of any individuality, due to the fact they are hypnotised by the latest fashions from the city and seem to have the desire to leave their hair unkempt, as if dragged through a thoroughfare. They also have no skills in punctuation, spelling or grammar when it comes to correspondence through telephonic or 'on the line' devices. The ghastly over use of 'LOL', 'dat', 'wud' and 'kewl' are abundant and quite frankly leaves conversation incomprehensible.

Everything is not at a complete lost however, for I have also encountered some genuine and rather chivalrous men indeed in my travels. One who has redeemed a fair amount of faith I had previously lost in the process of courtship by behaving as an utmost gentlemen towards me, even though our own courtship together tragically was not to last. Others have been spontaneous and dare I say it wild and would cause any fine lady to blush if spoken openly even in a letter. I am wicked woman for allowing my petticoat to slip even an inch below the knee, let alone shoot past the ankle and onto the parlor floor. I do hope you do not judge me so dear Elinor, for you should know I am not a woman who sits comfortably with the label of 'easy virtue'. Truly I am. But in confidence my dear friend, I have to admit, it has been quite pleasurable indeed.

All experiences for the soul to grow my friend, I have decided. I find myself happily embracing the 'single life', a phrase much more preferential than the term 'spinster' I can tell you. I move on, clutching the hem of my dress and marching towards the Australian sunset and the rest of my future in a new world full of potential.

Until pen meets parchment once more, my love as always.

Yours, Emily.

Things you notice when you're arms are in casts...

noreply@blogger.com (laughingbuddhalookson) — Tue, 31 Mar 2009 07:24:00 +0000

• You hear "Got yourself into a bit of trouble I see" and "Been in the wars?" a lot.

• You can justify wearing all your loose baggy, shapeless clothes.

• There is no dignified way of wiping your own arse unless you do the more undignified act of letting someone else do it for you.

• Mere buttons and pistachios become Zen like puzzles to overcome.

• There are amazing uses for other body parts, for example your heel can be used to clean the buttocks.

• You get hit on.

• Strangers give you the sympathetic head tilt.

• Some strangers will still walk straight into you on purpose.

• Shoelaces aren't worth thinking about.

• Googling similar bone surgery operations to your own is not a good idea.

• Door handles and keys inside locks are the enemy.

• Sleep deprivation is something you have to get used to.

• Pink puss is not good.

• TV Box Sets save you from insanity.

• You tire of having to explain your injury to yet another shop assistant.

• You begin concocting new stories of how you got your injury - 'a Ferris Wheel accident' is one and 'saving Brazilian orphans from a house fire' is another.

• 'Bath Time' is an experience as thrilling as a five hour German opera.

• You can't go shopping. A packet of crisps becomes a three course evening meal.

• Your social life diminishes to the level of a 5 year old's.

• You are continually amazed who offers you their seat on the bus and more surprisingly at those who don't.

• The whole thing becomes incredibly tedious. So very, very tedious.

On the go...

noreply@blogger.com (laughingbuddhalookson) — Mon, 23 Feb 2009 21:49:00 +0000

Apparently, now I succumbed to the world of new technology and bought myself an iPhone, I can now post entries to my blog whilst I'm on the go! This is quite a thrilling concept as I'm hoping it will encourage me write more.
-- Post From My iPhone

At work today I...

noreply@blogger.com (laughingbuddhalookson) — Sun, 15 Feb 2009 10:41:00 +0000

I happened to be in a client meeting today, where halfway through as I sat on my synthetic county council chair, my sinuses were triggered by the distinctive smell of talcum powder and hard boiled sweets. I realised then, I was the only one under 45 years old. To thwart the manacles of advertising and be free I'm probably going to have to put up with these flaccid moments of realisation for a little while longer. Dear God.

365 days in Oz...

noreply@blogger.com (laughingbuddhalookson) — Thu, 29 Jan 2009 07:15:00 +0000

"Fine, if you don't ask for details" was Katharine Hepburn's response to anyone who asked her how she was. I have been exerting a similar response to any enquiries about how my visa application was progressing. I seem to have applied for it in the most traumatic way possible; my application being delivered at the eleventh hour, my boss handling the employer side of the application resigning from our company and checking himself into a clinic for bipolar disorder and suicide watch, down to minor irritating issues, such as my passport photo in the envelope of my police check submission in the UK having an ink smudge all over it thus rendering it unusuable. It has been a 'barrel of laughs' and I have been lucky to get through it and not have the nightmarish concept of having to return home to the blistering cold weather of England. I must have spent over $3,000 (£1600) on this entire process. Yet through all the complications I am here. I am staying or should I say, I have the choice to stay.

It will be exactly a year since I arrived on these fair shores next Thursday (5th Feb). Australia Day being the day I unwittingly had my leaving do in my local pub in Herne Hill. I have the opportunity and the flexibilty to do whatever I desire now without a ticking clock buzzing inside my cranium.

Freedom of choice, no matter how inconsequential it is, is worth going out on a limb for.

Every Little Step...

noreply@blogger.com (laughingbuddhalookson) — Fri, 02 Jan 2009 22:43:00 +0000

Oh. My. God. (Richard flaps his arms and screams like a little girl)

EVERY LITTLE STEP: Movie Trailer - For more funny movies, click here

This Year I...

noreply@blogger.com (laughingbuddhalookson) — Wed, 31 Dec 2008 00:57:00 +0000

... said goodbye to the best friends anyone could ever have ... moved over 10,000 from home and set up my new life ... listened to ABBA non-stop for 6 months ... made some new friends Down Under ... learned to love mushrooms ... saw 'Wicked' for the 4th time ... almost worked for Cate Blanchett ... laughed so much in Melbourne I cried ... cried so much in Sydney I laughed ... found a few old friends ... learned how to read music ... discovered one of my best friends is pregnant ... freaked out at Australia's capital city ... reached a high C ... swam in the ocean on Christmas Day ... had a private pool party on NYE ...

Happy New Year! And so on we go into 2009.