The conference is in full swing in Brighton though I was disappointed when I set off to what I thought was a BUBB binge meeting last night expecting an all-paid for buffet and blow out to find out it was in fact a fringe meeting. Very fringe. It was in Bournemouth.
The one this morning was a bit better and Hector gave an OK I grudgingly concede kind of speech though the croissants were a perfect metaphor for New Labour. They looked good at first from a distance but turned out to be flaky, crumbling and stale.
I am hoping to catch Peter Mandelson's speech later at 666 o'clock. It will fascinating to hear what new evil and use of the dark arts he has planned as the election approaches. I had a bit of fun with him yesterday when I pick pocketed his security pass when we were playing in the arcades before the conference started, which meant he couldn't get in. Hilarious hearing him rasp "don't you know who I am?" at bemused security guards.
After that it will be more networking and then perhaps a club.
Monday, 28 September 2009
Sunday, 27 September 2009
Still not back in the office
It is now roughly 1 year, 7 months, 14 days, 3 hours, 2 minutes and 45 seconds since I was at my desk, such has been my extensive travelling. I must qualify for special gypsy privileges and Romany caravan miles after all this roaming. All in the interests of umbrellas of course.
I got back from the States in time for a quick visit to Blacbury to see Barkles and put my sprouts on for Xmas dinner and am now down in Brighton for a week at the seaside and sucking up to the Labour hierarchy at its conference. Soon I will be so networked that I will be in danger of strangling myself with connections and introductions. And I have put my back out carrying business cards around.
The last couple of days in NYC went well. I maanged to have a chat with Bill Clinton. I was a bit worried about this as we have a bit of previous but he didn't seem to remember me. He told me we had the best organised umbrella sector in the world. Well, what he actually said was "it's just as well Britain has a half decent brolly membership body as it's always pissing it down, you slimy limey bastard".
Also saw Brad Pitt (loved the beard) give a stirring speech about how he and Angelina were going to try and adopt an umbrella from every poor country in the world to make them look saintly and gain free positive publicity for their films.
Amusingly, Cherie Blair spotted me while I was blogging and bounded over and smiled at me. Luckily, I managed to avoid falling in.
I will leave it there as if I drop any more big famous names I will break the floor. All in all it was a great event though all the false bonhomie and cheeriness got a bit wearing. But it was refreshing to hear not a single whinge all week, probably because all of the people there are minted and don't have to live in the real world they are claiming to help.
I got back from the States in time for a quick visit to Blacbury to see Barkles and put my sprouts on for Xmas dinner and am now down in Brighton for a week at the seaside and sucking up to the Labour hierarchy at its conference. Soon I will be so networked that I will be in danger of strangling myself with connections and introductions. And I have put my back out carrying business cards around.
The last couple of days in NYC went well. I maanged to have a chat with Bill Clinton. I was a bit worried about this as we have a bit of previous but he didn't seem to remember me. He told me we had the best organised umbrella sector in the world. Well, what he actually said was "it's just as well Britain has a half decent brolly membership body as it's always pissing it down, you slimy limey bastard".
Also saw Brad Pitt (loved the beard) give a stirring speech about how he and Angelina were going to try and adopt an umbrella from every poor country in the world to make them look saintly and gain free positive publicity for their films.
Amusingly, Cherie Blair spotted me while I was blogging and bounded over and smiled at me. Luckily, I managed to avoid falling in.
I will leave it there as if I drop any more big famous names I will break the floor. All in all it was a great event though all the false bonhomie and cheeriness got a bit wearing. But it was refreshing to hear not a single whinge all week, probably because all of the people there are minted and don't have to live in the real world they are claiming to help.
Friday, 25 September 2009
Recovering Gore costs
Al Gore may be a failed politican but he has certainly found a role as a prophet for climate change. Or more accurately making a profit out of climate change as he has a new book out soon, just in time for Xmas. How many rainforests were felled to meet the expected demand I wonder?
Networking like crazy
By golly it has been a busy week here in NYC and I have lost track of all of the famous people I have glimpsed from the back of a packed room. I have chatted, mostly about the Brolly Investment Business, with failed politicians, scriptwriters, journalists, media moguls, 16th Century Spanish Infantas, jugglers, knife-grinders and binmen. I have dandered up schizoid sidewalks, mental motorways and bonkers B-roads in pursuit of knowledge and learning.
I even bumped into someone I know from Blacbury, which was a bit embarrassing as I still haven't returned the hedge trimmers I borrowed off him three years ago.
I have asked some pretty searching questions of speakers, on one occasion during the allotted Q&A slot rather than shouted out as a heckle. I have mastered the art of disruptive interruption and ruined a perfectly pleasant dinner with an off the cuff speech about it.
Oh, and I have sorted out the Middle East. It was certainly a lot easier than trying to broker peace between Hubert and myself.
The only disappointment has been Obama. His speech was frankly shite. He seemed more bothered about electrifying the room. While it is impressive that a President can change a plug and rewire an auditorium the crowd were hoping for some wise words rather than a practical demonstration of electrical wizardry.
I was pleased I got some press coverage in the UK for my comments urging the government to stop fannying about with consultation on the Umbrella Bank and just get on with it.I have said it before but it bears repeating that if the government stops to consult and seek public approval for everything it does we run the dangerous risk of becoming like a democracy.
It's funny really that I have such a strong desire to enter banking given my loathing of bankers. Indeed such is my deep distrust of them that I refused recently to entrust my precious Anglo-Saxon family heirlooms to them for safe-keeping. Instead I have buried them in a field in Staffordshire. I won't say which one in case someone goes digging around but they'll be a lot safer there than in a bank.
I even bumped into someone I know from Blacbury, which was a bit embarrassing as I still haven't returned the hedge trimmers I borrowed off him three years ago.
I have asked some pretty searching questions of speakers, on one occasion during the allotted Q&A slot rather than shouted out as a heckle. I have mastered the art of disruptive interruption and ruined a perfectly pleasant dinner with an off the cuff speech about it.
Oh, and I have sorted out the Middle East. It was certainly a lot easier than trying to broker peace between Hubert and myself.
The only disappointment has been Obama. His speech was frankly shite. He seemed more bothered about electrifying the room. While it is impressive that a President can change a plug and rewire an auditorium the crowd were hoping for some wise words rather than a practical demonstration of electrical wizardry.
I was pleased I got some press coverage in the UK for my comments urging the government to stop fannying about with consultation on the Umbrella Bank and just get on with it.I have said it before but it bears repeating that if the government stops to consult and seek public approval for everything it does we run the dangerous risk of becoming like a democracy.
It's funny really that I have such a strong desire to enter banking given my loathing of bankers. Indeed such is my deep distrust of them that I refused recently to entrust my precious Anglo-Saxon family heirlooms to them for safe-keeping. Instead I have buried them in a field in Staffordshire. I won't say which one in case someone goes digging around but they'll be a lot safer there than in a bank.
Monday, 21 September 2009
Clinton hot air initiative
I am in NYC at the minute for the Clinton Foundation's annual shite-spouting shindig. Since Clinton set up his Foundation five years ago as a vanity project to keep the Clinton brand high profile in his attempt to establish the family as a sort of latter-day Kennedy dynasty (without the deaths and that), this waffle-fest has paid lip service to addressing global problems that his eight year administration as President didn't give a shit about and in many cases created or exacerbated.
It is a mark of how respected BUBB is in umbrella circles that I am invited (what were you up to this weekend Hubert?), indeed I am the only umbrella leader here from Europe so God knows who I will chat to. The UK delegation includes Tony and Cherie and I hope I don't catch TB while I am here.
This flannel forum lasts about 14 years and I have been assigned a minder to ensure I don't get into any mischief. Her name, Dr Terry Babcock-Lumish, is beyond parody but if it weren't it would be Gerry Spatchcock-Burnish or something.
Yesterday morning I hauled my hungover ass to church but the service was fair ruined by some ruddy Australian singing rude words along with the hymns. I get chatting with him afterwards, well, strictly speaking I backed him into a corner, and shouted at him about Umbrellabuilders. This is toppermost in my mind following our extraordinarily successful relaunch last week. 8 million people packed into Wembley Stadium to hear me give the same old speech about investing in gamps, unclaimed brollies and setting up an umbrella bank. We also officially announced our new name - BIB - the Brolly Investment Business (as in Heston Mayday, mind your own). We were scuppered in our original plans to name ourselves Umbrella Bank because apparently only banks can be called banks, (though this rule doesn't seem to apply to world cup winning goalkeepers when you write to them asking for the loan of a few bob and they refuse on the grounds that "I am not a bloody bank" despite being regarded as a sound custodian and good at saving things).
We may not be called Umbrella Bank but make no mistake, whatever our label, our clear aim is become one. Our only decision now is whether we become a wholemeal bank or not. Personally, as we'll be giving out bread to promote goodness, I like the term.
But I digress. I can assure you - the blogs this week from this blather gathering will be vital reading and an orgy of name dropping and attempts by me to shoot the breeze about brollies with important people who couldn't care less, interspersed with musings on what we are given to chow on.
It is a mark of how respected BUBB is in umbrella circles that I am invited (what were you up to this weekend Hubert?), indeed I am the only umbrella leader here from Europe so God knows who I will chat to. The UK delegation includes Tony and Cherie and I hope I don't catch TB while I am here.
This flannel forum lasts about 14 years and I have been assigned a minder to ensure I don't get into any mischief. Her name, Dr Terry Babcock-Lumish, is beyond parody but if it weren't it would be Gerry Spatchcock-Burnish or something.
Yesterday morning I hauled my hungover ass to church but the service was fair ruined by some ruddy Australian singing rude words along with the hymns. I get chatting with him afterwards, well, strictly speaking I backed him into a corner, and shouted at him about Umbrellabuilders. This is toppermost in my mind following our extraordinarily successful relaunch last week. 8 million people packed into Wembley Stadium to hear me give the same old speech about investing in gamps, unclaimed brollies and setting up an umbrella bank. We also officially announced our new name - BIB - the Brolly Investment Business (as in Heston Mayday, mind your own). We were scuppered in our original plans to name ourselves Umbrella Bank because apparently only banks can be called banks, (though this rule doesn't seem to apply to world cup winning goalkeepers when you write to them asking for the loan of a few bob and they refuse on the grounds that "I am not a bloody bank" despite being regarded as a sound custodian and good at saving things).
We may not be called Umbrella Bank but make no mistake, whatever our label, our clear aim is become one. Our only decision now is whether we become a wholemeal bank or not. Personally, as we'll be giving out bread to promote goodness, I like the term.
But I digress. I can assure you - the blogs this week from this blather gathering will be vital reading and an orgy of name dropping and attempts by me to shoot the breeze about brollies with important people who couldn't care less, interspersed with musings on what we are given to chow on.
Saturday, 19 September 2009
Derren! Derren! Can you let me go please?
Derren Brown you myserious sod. Can you please release me from the armchair? I have been stuck here all night and really need the toilet. And my Saturday morning croissant won't collect itself from the bakers.
Thursday, 17 September 2009
Whining and dining
It was back to work with, if not a vengeance, certainly a minor retribution. Myself and some favoured members had our annual away day with the Umbrella Office. Basically this is our chance to badger government. We spent most of the day discussing whether our discussions should be Chatham House or not. In the end we decided they should, which means I have now broken the rules.
It is a bit worrying to see the unions rolling back the years and dusting off the placards saying "no cuts" in public spending. This approach didn't work in the 70s when there were loads of cuts. And I've still got the scars to prove it. We need a more constructive approach. Such as begging for more cash.
Thankfully one area where there hasn't been any cutbacks is troughing at the corporate table. We had a dinner for our greediest 100 members last night. The splendid lawyers, Boats Bells & Makeweight, laid on a superb meal and fine wine which was greatly enjoyed by the assembled throng. Without a shred of irony I then spoke on the future of capacity-building for the umbrella sector. I said that with spending cuts inevitable, the sector could not demand the same level of investment in infrastructure that had taken place over the past decade, but quaffing expensive plonk was fine. Everyone raised their glasses and cheered and we then got stuck into the cheeseboard.
It is a bit worrying to see the unions rolling back the years and dusting off the placards saying "no cuts" in public spending. This approach didn't work in the 70s when there were loads of cuts. And I've still got the scars to prove it. We need a more constructive approach. Such as begging for more cash.
Thankfully one area where there hasn't been any cutbacks is troughing at the corporate table. We had a dinner for our greediest 100 members last night. The splendid lawyers, Boats Bells & Makeweight, laid on a superb meal and fine wine which was greatly enjoyed by the assembled throng. Without a shred of irony I then spoke on the future of capacity-building for the umbrella sector. I said that with spending cuts inevitable, the sector could not demand the same level of investment in infrastructure that had taken place over the past decade, but quaffing expensive plonk was fine. Everyone raised their glasses and cheered and we then got stuck into the cheeseboard.
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