My name isn't Michael Caine

It's not easy is it? I have a vague recollection of choosing to adopt the Michael Caine approach; write often enough and every once in a while something good will happen. The trouble is you need to have focus and sustain it beyond a few paragraphs. Speaking (writing?) of which, did anyone see 'The Quiet American' on BBC 1 last week? What a cracking film; and perhaps proof that the 'Caine' approach is superior to the 'Brando' method.

Has Brando actually been in that many good films? Anyone mentioning 'Last Tango in Paris' will be asked to leave the room… I've never really appreciated 'Apocalypse Now 'and 'On The Waterfront' suffered from a hazy observation that Brando appeared to be wearing too much make-up. God only knows what I was drinking that night.

So you have to think of a topic to write about; for example, film actors. Then develop what might at first appear a controversial thesis; why Caine is "better" than Brando. But even as you write this your mind begins to wander. It's not as if it matters - you'd rather have both than just the one and what does "better" mean anyway? Then you remember (how could you forget) that Brando was in The Godfather, start to think about the cheesecake you have waiting in the fridge and how you'd quite like to watch "The Caine Mutiny" again…

And still I wait

I waited long for my true love
In hope that she would come
But time's tattered transport travels on
To fears I am alone

I waited, cried in desperation
I've frittered years in troubled thought
To contemplate a soul's starvation
Imagine life with passion wrought

I wait, I move, I step away
Avert my gaze as you pass by
Postpone my life another day
And when you're gone I wonder why

So now I wait upon tomorrow
Another chance to face you missed
Tonight again from dreams I'll borrow
A warm embrace, a softer kiss

And hope to die

I remember a new boy in a small town trying to make friends. There was a bag of marbles at the beginning, the contents of which roll down some cobbled streets at the end. In between there was a fantastical tale of gangs, robbery and the use of a fire engine ladder to crawl from one high rise building to the next. I have a vague recollection of an American actor in this French film, a love triangle and, like so many good stories, a little sadness at its end.

However I couldn't remember what it was called. I was only around ten years old at the time but for some reason those images have stayed with me for the last 30 years. A few months ago, after having previously searched for the title several times, I found the answer by accident.

La Course du lièvre à travers les champs or, to give it it's English title, And Hope To Die, was made in 1972 and features a screenplay written by Sébastien Japrisot. I note this as he later wrote the novel A Very Long Engagement, subsequently made into a French film that also happened to cameo a well known American actress, Jodie Foster. Two films made 30 years apart, with the same writer (albeit in a different role), each featuring a well known American actor... and I like them both.

At least I think I do. For whilst I saw A Very Long Engagement only a year ago, the memories I have of it's counterpart are fragmented, perhaps even warped over the course of time. And Hope To Die is available on DVD but not, it would appear, with English subtitles. Perhaps this is just as well, though it does sound like the kind of movie I would love to see. I know in my heart if this film was more generally available I would snap it up. Revisiting the past is always a risky venture, and often ends in disappointment, but even a remote chance of re-capturing that childhood magic, if only for a short time, has got to be worth it.

Tom is hot

Breaking news... Tom is hot. I indirectly gleaned this valuable information from the daughter of my next door neighbour who, in the absence of her Mother, had invited a gaggle of her female friends around for the night. I don't think teenagers have the greatest sense of time and I imagine this is the reason they decided to have a chat in the back garden at gone midnight... for an hour or so... there was even a sing-a-long too. Just after being woken up one of the guests asked "What about your neighbours?" which I thought considerate, until my teenage neighbour replied "Oh no, they're O.K." which was more like it.

I'm knackered, but at least I learnt something positive about Tom.

Tom, it turns out, is to be much admired due to something about his arms, though I didn't catch what it was that made them so special. Perhaps they're unfeasibly large? Perhaps he can tie his shoelaces without bending down? Perhaps one is longer than the other? Perhaps I should ask? I'd really like to know!

Also in the conversation that I wasn't listening to:

• Somebody's favourite film is City of Angels.

• Somebody's favourite song is something that goes along the lines of "dumph... dumph...". You know the one.

• Everyone agreed that Mark was "sweet". I'm guessing that Mark's arms are perfectly normal.

What Phil did next

Two weeks ago, after a month (maybe more?) of prototyping, we started the technical design phase of our latest project. Last week (maybe before?) the rest of the development team were given an introduction and we held workshops, where we talked, divided up the team, held breakout meetings, I talked, estimated some timescales, had more meetings, talked some more, doubled my estimates...

...and I'm actually managing to bore myself writing this. What it must be like to read I dread to think. But then you've only yourself to blame; any sensible person would have stopped at the word "prototyping". Go and watch TV like a normal person.

This week we started the discovery, design and in some case development and I am already tired. My throat is beginning to get sore and I'm under a fair bit of stress. I'm loving it.

Sad to say I enjoy my work, despite the overwhelming evidence to the contrary, I actually find it quite creative. Admittedly like many software developers I've watched Star Wars far too often for someone of my age, but in many other respects I'm quite a rounded individual. Just don't ask me for any examples; I haven't got the time, some idiot estimated we'd be finished by November.

42 days – The politics of fear

The saddest thing about tonight's vote on extending the time a person can be detained, without charge, is that it appeared to have the support of much of the British public. These are presumably the same people who believe if you have nothing to hide, then you have nothing to worry about; people who naively believe that a government always acts in the best interests of the people.

This is not a vote that will enhance our security, more a propaganda victory for extremist groups who have now managed to curtail our liberties by proxy. It is based on specious evidence and didn't even command the support of the Scottish Lord Advocate, Elish Angiolini, who shares the view of the Director of Public Prosecutions and the former Attorney General Lord Goldsmith "that the requirement for an extension to the current 28 days is not supported by prosecution experience to date."

This vote is not an act of strength but of fear.

Tower of song

Perhaps it wasn't a perfect day but it was still rather good. Lauren had her swimming lesson this morning; if she could just remember to put her head above water and breath occasionally she could be… well she already is amazing so why wish for anything else? I got to exercise early in the day rather than guiltily trying to fit it in late in the evening. No trip to the garden centre. No trip to The (dreaded) Mall. Lauren and I went to the park for an hour or so, played on the swings, we even had an ice cream. The weather was great so I didn't mind stopping off at Tesco before walking home.

Walking... imagine that! Lauren behaved herself. Imagine that!! There was football in the evening. Doctor Who was great (about time). There was more football. I'm listening to Leonard Cohen with a smile on my face. What's going on?