No winners at the races. Pleasant enough two hours of teaching down the youth centre. Then back home to watch Max Carlish's Doherty documentary. What an annoying man, totally lacking in charisma, talent and the ability to manually focus a camera (Carlish, that is), a little bit slow on the uptake and an obsessed freak. Whatever type of documentary he was planning on making before he felt the weight of Pete's fist was clear from the shoddy footage screened: a fucking bad one. A typical effort from a media lecturer. Well done Pete for hitting him. There was only one waster on display and it wasn't the gent with the tin foil. Nick Broomfield has a lot to answer for. This post modern 'filmmaker as central character who makes film but struggles to catch up with his subject matter' might have been clever once upon a time. But now it's just sooo tired, irritating and very, very boring...
"Do you know me? I don't think so! Do you know me? I don't think so! You romanticize the dark and gloomy past, Trying to escape from the underclass, You darkened the bright and beautiful day, You're breaking my heart in every way, And tell me everything is dandy and fine, You're no friend of mine."
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