Dear Readers,
Good afternoon and welcome back to Off The Fence, a newsletter that believes brightness is returning to the firmament. We hope you’re handling the heat and we are certain you are chomping at the bit for some high-flying newsletter wrastlin’. You’re in the right place.
Issue 27 is, miraculously, nearly ready for its close-up at Studio Mathias Clottu. We are really excited for this one and, although it’s a bit like your mum telling you how smart and handsome you are, we do genuinely think this will be the best one yet. It has the longest and most ambitious investigation we have ever run and a ‘Facts’ section almost strong enough to return meaning to the word in a post-truth society.
It makes it a truly ideal time to take that leap and subscribe to the mag here. At just £31.99 for a whole year of print magazines (£36.99 for print and digital) it really is an absolute steal.
And wouldn’t you know it the photo contest among those subbed up is nearing its run in phase and the entries are remaining strong. The mag has been spotted in England’s Switzerland and living the lush life in the gardens at Chatsworth before doing a Paddington and running off to Peru. It’s also been on the ferry over to Ireland, taking in the sunshine and visiting a scene of rural destruction. By the time it got home it had just enough presence and decorum left to blush correctly at this wonderful praise from the legendary Miranda Sawyer.
Elsewhere, this newsletter’s smarter and more decent sister Capital Letter is being got ready for you all this Thursday. We’ve got a notes on an illegal rave, a conversation with Jeremy King and advice on where to find the best gigs and theatre in the capital this fortnight. If you live in London you will be lost without it.
So, time for the meat and drink. We’ve got some great news about our investigations correspondent, updates on Tony Morris and Chinese state visits. Wagons roll.
The People’s Republic of the Hundred Acre Wood
China has been going hard on the state visits of late. The year kicked off with Starmer and more recent months have seen Putin, Trump and the world’s most enigmatic leader bar none Serbia’s Aleksandar Vučić. It’s a sign of China’s increasingly assertive role as the U.S. Ouroboros seems to have lost its tail and has begun tying itself in knots. Much of the work done in front of the cameras was a succession of leaders doing their best Basil Fawlty and not mentioning Taiwan, but if you’re craving a deeper read, Sam Chetwin George’s analysis of China’s position for Foreign Affairs was an insightful one.
As is natural for us however, all these swirling questions of international diplomacy remind us of three things only. First, the incredible work done by many in China to portray their leader as Winnie the Pooh thus making the character a proscribed symbol in the country. Second, this truly brilliant comic triple take Mao Zedong did when meeting Henry Kissinger’s rather tall wife. Third, the legendary and truly bizarre opera Nixon in China which we link below. Presuming you don’t have an hour to watch its first act to hand, we jumped you in at the moment Air Force One lands in the Middle Kingdom.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cqKZIzZPLgg
In Vino Veritas
The debate about parliamentarians getting pissed continues to drizzle its way in the nation’s conversations. It goes without saying that we think it’s great that MPs can get drunk at work – it’s one of the things that makes this country great, and looking through the drinks menu at Stranger’s Bar has encouraged us to undertake a singular mission: to find the cheapest house wine in the capital, and also the nation.
In the lead so far is the house red at the Chelsea Arts Club, which is £20 only. We dread to think how many bottles they go through a week. Just think of all those plum-lipped ‘painters’ sozzled on Portuguese plonk. But we reckon there must be places in the country that are cheaper still. Send all entries to editorial@the-fence.com and we’ll report our findings next week.
For the Love of the Game
We do recommend olde worlde documentaries on this newsletter and we’re going to segue from that and recommend a book that was published a few decades back. If you’re involved in the publishing or magazine world then you will devour Emma Tennant’s Burnt Diaries, in which she records her life as editor of Bananas, a literary mag that featured original work from Ian McEwan, ‘Jimmy’ Ballard and Angela Carter. It’s a wonderful portrait of 1970s London (particularly Notting Hill) and is loaded with top-tier gossip, such as when Emma goes to her brother’s stately home to steal a photo of a topless Princess Margaret, which she plans to sell to the tabloids to fund her magazine. You can get a feel for her wit and insight in this interview here. If anyone has any memories of Bananas (named, quite unbelievably, after a Woody Allen film), then we would love to hear from you via the usual channels.
Man Bust Case
We are delighted to confirm that our investigative correspondent Cormac Kehoe has prevailed. The defamation case brought against him by the Italian businessman Claudio Di Giovanni was, happily, thrown out this week. This is a great relief to us all and not least Cormac, who was sued personally for £250,000 in libel damages alongside publisher Mill Media Ltd over his excellent – and, crucially, not libellous – reporting for The Londoner on Di Giovanni’s property arbitrage scheme. Wonderful news and well done to everyone involved.
We are especially thrilled that Cormac is no longer short a quarter of a million pounds. If you want to take him out to lunch or for some pints or even buy him a herd of bison, his email is ck@the-fence.com.
Seething with Jealousy
Cannes is now coming to an end, which means that the producers of the world are wrapping up and returning home from a brief spell on the artificial beaches of the South of France. For the hopefuls who wish to join their ranks next year, perhaps they might consult our insider’s guide to getting a film made from Issue 19. ‘Could I – a two-time feature film producer and 20-year veteran of the industry – offer you any advice, perhaps?’ You are in luck. But, be warned that the silver screen is not always a pretty picture: ‘When I was starting out, I nearly got the support of Sheffield-based Warp Films (credits include Submarine, This Is England and Four Lions) for my debut feature, but was subtly warned off the deal by their production executive Mary Burke (subsequently a commissioner at the BFI) who, without explicitly saying so, suggested that I might soon find myself forced off my own film. Not everyone in the business is as considerate of newcomers.’
My Typical Sunday
Okay, here is something big. This week we learned that Alain de Botton is on the apps and seeking dates in London. Love is a skill, not a feeling.
Broomhill in Berghain
‘I am a lone drinker, a serious lone drinker. I use alcohol to loosen up the inner connections between my unconscious and conscious mind and thence concoct an audiovisual piece; so a pub crawl is completely out of the question. I hope that doesn’t stymie the whole idea. All the best. Tony’
Congratulations to the inimitable Tony Morris, who at the age of 73 has just played a set at Berghain. Here’s some excellent footage of his song ‘I have a strong streak of the bourgeois in me’ as part of that set.
Morris was a character who fascinated us ages ago, when we put him in the final section of this very newsletter. When Rory MacNeish offered to interview and profile the man for us, we couldn’t have been more pleased and made it the rather wonderful opening salvo of this issue just gone. It’s now up on the website for all to read.
Five or Six or Seven or Eight Under Lime Street
For Issue 27, TF alumna Lotte Brundle got back in touch with an old flame to get to grips with the last unreformed industry in London. ‘I wasn’t exactly expecting a reply to my out-of-the-blue request to catch up with an underwriter, except perhaps a “who?” or a “please fuck off”, so I was pleasantly surprised when a message from Ben popped up on my phone. “I don’t work as one anymore, does that still make the cut?” It did.’ Over £9 pints Lotte found out about the liquid lunches that oil the business of insurance underwriting. Happily, the piece is now online and available to be drunk down in full.
Ex-Girlfriend FC
It is likely that you are currently experiencing a comedown from the events of Sunday night, which is only natural, of course. However, if you would like to keep rinsing the glory, options are available. You could go back to Chris Milton’s piece in Issue 12, asking why football fans sing such a strange array of songs. ‘Unlike the ‘smarter’ music of Bach, Wagner, Miles Davis, Brian Wilson or Lady Gaga, which use increasingly elaborate additions and extensions to ‘sex up’ the basic elements of the Pythagorean monochord, these anthemic sporting numbers pare it back to its first principles and thus find a perfect synergy with the primitivism of sport.’ Anne Hathaway’s choral interpretation of the gooner chant captures this musical perfection well.
It is also possible that you guiltily and slightly unduly indulged in a bit too much in that aforementioned primitivism in recent days, and are in need of a counter tempo. In which case, we might recommend Rosie Hewitson’s account of scintillating dyke drama undergirding the entirety of women’s football from Issue 18. As part of her findings, she plays against a club called ‘Ex-Girlfriend FC’, which is ‘so named because it was founded by two erstwhile partners. Their main shirt sponsor is a lube brand.’
Or, if you are in more of a watching mood, all the footy talk couldn’t help but remind us of a rather interesting and strange documentary called Battlecentre. Leo Regan made the film about a group of evangelical Christians in London. One of its more interesting vignettes is with some hyper-religious Millwall fans, caught between their desire to be righteous before the Lord and their desire for a bust up on a Saturday afternoon.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LeBFXMSmIyk
In case you missed it
What is the meaning of Zack Polanski?
The stunt pilot hunting Ukrainian drones.
Steve Rosenberg’s diary from April 1986.
The British scaffolders’ support group.
Animated Russian advice on how to release your inner rat.
James Roscoe has abruptly left his role after filling in for Peter Mandelson last year for reasons that are not yet clear.
The most relaxing clip you’ll see all week.
Granta’s elliptical musings about AI.
The Martha Graham technique.
And Finally
‘It’s Christmas,’ reasons the man in the video. He is muscling into a fight on an estate in London between a flasher and a resident telling him to fuck off and to put his clothes on. The pair stare, dazed, at the mediator and then start again: ‘Okay, hear what I’m saying, cos I was having my fucking breakfast, cos I’ve gone downstairs, the guy’s in the corner, yeah–’ Suddenly, the man intervening is telling them to calm down because his dad has just died, at which the titular character of W*NKER sympathetically smiles and puts a kindly hand to the other’s shoulder. The resident is outraged. What seemed a straightforward case of telling someone to fuck off has devolved into a negotiation with a clueless onlooker. When the resident says that he was getting involved because the man was flashing, the intervener says, ‘My dad used to do the same thing’. He then repeats, ‘it’s Christmas!’ No one is wearing clothes to suggest that the scene is set in December and, in fact, the W*NKER is wearing hi-vis.
This is one of the more recent videos by burnermunde, an account that has been filming and putting out circular and apparently staged conversations in east London over the past year. They are filmed from a zoomed-in vantage point and placed beneath dreamy music, which together give a kind of gently disengaged quality that belies the wry and funny tone. Shot on the street, in parks and on estates, the videos capture pleasingly incomprehensible discussions punctuated by gemeralds of outstanding dialogue.
The most viral example so far is a discussion about vaping opened by someone who keeps a photo of Rishi Sunak as the background of their burner phone. He squares up to one man: ‘Are you a vape virgin?’ The group discusses the possibilities and virtues of the different vapes available. Peter Paneer, the man antagonising, shows off the various features available of the vapes that he seems to be selling, although not everyone is impressed. ‘My cousin from Calgary has that in Canada,’ shrugs the accused vape virgin. Peter is not dissuaded, demonstrating the maths that justify the product. He pulls out the burner phone again and opens the app. ‘You like calculators?’
The reason these videos are so enjoyable is that they are done well. It is an old-fashioned sort of YouTube offering; it’s a video that has been carefully made and intended as intelligible only to particular segments of viewers. There’s a quality that is somehow reminiscent of those early clips from in 2005, and it’s this that people seem to get from the videos that have been appearing every few weeks of late. Burnermunde will probably get a slot on Channel 4 soon. In the meantime, here are a few more to enjoy, and pretend were made for you and you alone.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c16s1Nl2n-A
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cQC8AN2W_6A
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And now, the end is here, and so you face, a week of waiting. But don’t you worry, that next Tuesday will come round swiftly and, as we may have mentioned, there’s another fine newsletter that will be available to all in just two days time. And if you like these newsletters so much, do think of buying an issue, or even better a subscription, at this link here.
Until then, all messenger pigeons should be directed to editorial@the-fence.com and all small street urchins with urgent requests for help should scamper rapidly to support@the-fence.com. Otherwise, we’ll see you in a week’s time.
All Best,
TF