Tuesday, 9 December 2008
Wednesday, 5 November 2008
Here Comes The Future, And You Can't Run From It
"O wonder!
How many goodly creatures are there here!
How beauteous mankind is!
O brave new world
That hath such people in't!"
I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.
Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity.
But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languishing in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. So we have come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.
In a sense we have come to our nation's capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked "insufficient funds." But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we have come to cash this check — a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice. We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quick sands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's children.
It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.
But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.
We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. They have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.
As we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, "When will you be satisfied?" We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied, as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro's basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their selfhood and robbed of their dignity by signs stating "For Whites Only". We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.
I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive.
Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair.
I say to you today, my friends, so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.
I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal."
I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.
I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.
I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.
I have a dream today.
I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification; one day right there in Alabama, little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.
I have a dream today.
I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.
This is our hope. This is the faith that I go back to the South with. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.
This will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with a new meaning, "My country, 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim's pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring."
And if America is to be a great nation this must become true. So let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire.
Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York.
Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania!
Let freedom ring from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado!
Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California!
But not only that; let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia!
Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee!
Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi. From every mountainside, let freedom ring.
And when this happens, when we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, "Free at last! free at last! thank God Almighty, we are free at last!"
Martin Luther King Jnr
August 28th 1963
How many goodly creatures are there here!
How beauteous mankind is!
O brave new world
That hath such people in't!"
I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.
Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity.
But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languishing in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. So we have come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.
In a sense we have come to our nation's capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked "insufficient funds." But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we have come to cash this check — a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice. We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quick sands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's children.
It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.
But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.
We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. They have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.
As we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, "When will you be satisfied?" We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied, as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro's basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their selfhood and robbed of their dignity by signs stating "For Whites Only". We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.
I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive.
Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair.
I say to you today, my friends, so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.
I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal."
I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.
I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.
I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.
I have a dream today.
I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification; one day right there in Alabama, little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.
I have a dream today.
I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.
This is our hope. This is the faith that I go back to the South with. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.
This will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with a new meaning, "My country, 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim's pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring."
And if America is to be a great nation this must become true. So let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire.
Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York.
Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania!
Let freedom ring from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado!
Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California!
But not only that; let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia!
Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee!
Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi. From every mountainside, let freedom ring.
And when this happens, when we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, "Free at last! free at last! thank God Almighty, we are free at last!"
Martin Luther King Jnr
August 28th 1963
Wednesday, 29 October 2008
More News Just In...
Well. It's been fun, but tonight on the National Television Awards on ITV1, as we now call it, David Tennant announced that the 4 Specials in 2009 will be his last in the battered Converse Boots and Suit. It was fun though! Cheers Big Fella.http://www.bbc.co.uk/doctorwho/s4/misc/news/
Wednesday, 15 October 2008
News Just In...
BBC News are leading their main bulletin tonight with the increase in the Unemployment Figures.Sky News, however, seem to think that Madonna and Guy Ritchie's divorce is the single most important thing going on today.
Dennis Potter called his cancer "Rupert" after Rupert Murdoch.
Just thought I'd mention these things.
Saturday, 30 August 2008
And Now In Colour
Tim Firth, Tim de Jongh (aka Tim Scott), Michael Rutger (Michael Smith) and William Vandyck.
Oh. Not so catchy.
Back in the 80's and indeed early 90's, BBC Radio 4 produced many a Comedy Sketch Show.
Bodgers Banks and Sparkes, Dial M For Pizza, In One Ear, Live on Arrival, Saturday Night Fry, The Million Pound Radio Show and And Now In Colour.
Bodgers became Absolutely on Channel 4, Saturday Night Fry evolved into A Bit Of Fry and Laurie, Live on Arrival spawned Punt and Dennis. Andy Hamilton and Nick Revell grew out of The Million Pound Radio Show...oh you get the idea, but And Now In Colour remains one of the great missed opportunities in comedy.
Firthie, Tim, Mike and Will -- presented each show as if it was coming from some exterior location (fairground, space shuttle, top of the Post Office Tower and the spectacular French Special...), and spent most of the time squabbling about various recurring issues, notably Firthie's eating habits, Will's militarist upbringing and in particular the North-South divide, which usually became the North-South-Dutch divide as a result of Tim's interjections. Fish and Advocaat. And Mike's obsession with Stephen King. His surname of Rutger was his homage to Rutger Hauer.
It was in many ways a fairly traditional series for the period, with the weekly adventures being little set pieces linked by sketches and songs. I admit to being fairly obsessed with the programme, even wiring up my stereo to my old VCR one Saturday night because my girlfriend and I were going out that night, and I didn't want to miss it. Remember, this was a very long time before "Listen Again" Sky + or the lovely i-Player came into the world.
Unfortunately, this worked very well, which lead to me recording many, many hours of radio. I think my attic is still full of old Danny Baker, Phill Jupitus and Kevin Greening shows from variuos radio stations over the years. But I digress.
And Now In Colour should've been much bigger than it ever was. For a start it was funny, yes some of the sketches didn't work, but for 2 series and 2 Christmas Specials it maintained a hit rate 99% of Radio 4 Comedy these days would kill for. Well, maybe not kill, or am I underestimating the jealous nature of comedians.
A sort of television pilot was made called It's a Mad World World World, but it didn't really work. Possibly as it only had 50% of the ANIC cast, possibly because it had a crap title, probably because it had Alastair McGowan in it, and plans for a series fell by the wayside.
I can't help thinking that in this day and age it would be picked up by BBC 3, allowed to grow and eventually make it onto a 9pm slot on a Friday night on BBC 1.
A whole generation would be quoting lines like "If it's in a basket, it's free" rather than claiming to be "The only gay in the village". Which would be a much better world if you ask me.
Oh, you didn't.
The cast are still out there in various guises.
Tim Firth is an award winning writer of stage and screen, responsible for BBC tv's The Preston Front, the stage play for the musical Our House as well as writing the scripts for Calender Girls and Kinky Boots.
Tim De Jongh has written several books, the sketch series "Dare To Believe" and won a BAFTA for his work on the children's series "Ripley and Scuff".
Michael Rutger has reverted to his real name of Michael Marshall Smith, writes Fantasy Novels, and very good ones at that. And again, award winning. There is a theme emerging here.
William VanDyck writes books for children, presented King Stupid" on Radio 4, and has won many cases in his guise as a barrister.
Thankfully, the good people at BBC 7 repeat the series on a fairly regular basis. And long may they do so.
Spread the word.
Oh. Not so catchy.
Back in the 80's and indeed early 90's, BBC Radio 4 produced many a Comedy Sketch Show.
Bodgers Banks and Sparkes, Dial M For Pizza, In One Ear, Live on Arrival, Saturday Night Fry, The Million Pound Radio Show and And Now In Colour.
Bodgers became Absolutely on Channel 4, Saturday Night Fry evolved into A Bit Of Fry and Laurie, Live on Arrival spawned Punt and Dennis. Andy Hamilton and Nick Revell grew out of The Million Pound Radio Show...oh you get the idea, but And Now In Colour remains one of the great missed opportunities in comedy.
Firthie, Tim, Mike and Will -- presented each show as if it was coming from some exterior location (fairground, space shuttle, top of the Post Office Tower and the spectacular French Special...), and spent most of the time squabbling about various recurring issues, notably Firthie's eating habits, Will's militarist upbringing and in particular the North-South divide, which usually became the North-South-Dutch divide as a result of Tim's interjections. Fish and Advocaat. And Mike's obsession with Stephen King. His surname of Rutger was his homage to Rutger Hauer.
It was in many ways a fairly traditional series for the period, with the weekly adventures being little set pieces linked by sketches and songs. I admit to being fairly obsessed with the programme, even wiring up my stereo to my old VCR one Saturday night because my girlfriend and I were going out that night, and I didn't want to miss it. Remember, this was a very long time before "Listen Again" Sky + or the lovely i-Player came into the world.
Unfortunately, this worked very well, which lead to me recording many, many hours of radio. I think my attic is still full of old Danny Baker, Phill Jupitus and Kevin Greening shows from variuos radio stations over the years. But I digress.
And Now In Colour should've been much bigger than it ever was. For a start it was funny, yes some of the sketches didn't work, but for 2 series and 2 Christmas Specials it maintained a hit rate 99% of Radio 4 Comedy these days would kill for. Well, maybe not kill, or am I underestimating the jealous nature of comedians.
A sort of television pilot was made called It's a Mad World World World, but it didn't really work. Possibly as it only had 50% of the ANIC cast, possibly because it had a crap title, probably because it had Alastair McGowan in it, and plans for a series fell by the wayside.
I can't help thinking that in this day and age it would be picked up by BBC 3, allowed to grow and eventually make it onto a 9pm slot on a Friday night on BBC 1.
A whole generation would be quoting lines like "If it's in a basket, it's free" rather than claiming to be "The only gay in the village". Which would be a much better world if you ask me.
Oh, you didn't.
The cast are still out there in various guises.
Tim Firth is an award winning writer of stage and screen, responsible for BBC tv's The Preston Front, the stage play for the musical Our House as well as writing the scripts for Calender Girls and Kinky Boots.
Tim De Jongh has written several books, the sketch series "Dare To Believe" and won a BAFTA for his work on the children's series "Ripley and Scuff".
Michael Rutger has reverted to his real name of Michael Marshall Smith, writes Fantasy Novels, and very good ones at that. And again, award winning. There is a theme emerging here.
William VanDyck writes books for children, presented King Stupid" on Radio 4, and has won many cases in his guise as a barrister.
Thankfully, the good people at BBC 7 repeat the series on a fairly regular basis. And long may they do so.
Spread the word.
Sunday, 20 July 2008
Series 4
My pc blew up a fortnight ago. Literally. One minute I was downloading the Collins and Herring podcast, next thing, acrid smell, unusual grinding noise and the whisp of smoke and my connection with the developed world was gone.
Which is my excuse for not having bored you all rigid with my opinion about this series of Doctor Who.
Which is my excuse for not having bored you all rigid with my opinion about this series of Doctor Who.
However, gentle reader, thanks to a very reliable courier service and my shiny new laptop, say goodbye to that hollow feeling of Lack of Half Arsed TV Review misery.
I would be lying if I said there wasn't a point near the beginning of the series I was ever so slightly concerned where the show was heading.
Maybe it was me, my high expectations after so many high points, maybe I was all too ready to be disappointed in Catherine Tate, the fear of another Bonnie Langford, I don't know.
What I do know is that on initial viewing I felt a flatness to the series.
But I have to be honest, I have since gone back and started watching them all again and have found them to be fresh and highly enjoyable. For the most part.
First things first. The incidental music was a bit loud in the early episodes. As it was in the 2007 Christmas Special. And some of the very minor supporting actors were a bit rubbish, and some of the scenes featuring them can only be described as hammy and twee. But then again, I'm looking at it from the perspective of a, let's be blunt, middle aged man. And the show is aimed squarely not at me, but is part of BBC Ones's Saturday night Family entertainment package. So has to appeal to a rather broad audience.
So after a bumpy, and slightly noisy start, the series settled down, David Tennant and Catherine Tate formed a great double act. There was a good chemistry there, and it's sad to think that it will never be seen again. Incidentally, there is an episode of Radio 4's Chain Reaction out there with Catherine Tate interviewing David Tennant which is highly entertaining, and quite at odds with much of the comedy on Radio 4 these days, in that it's actually funny. God I miss And Now In Colour. And Bodgers Banks and Sparkes.
Sorry distracted again, I think it's the fact that the Spell Check on Safari seems to think that I want everything in American English.
And can I just say, Bernard Cribbens, how lovely was he? He was just wonderful as Wilf. Like a proper Grandad. Bless him and his wooly hat. Mind you, Donna's mum...what a bitch!
The monsters/aliens were pretty good too. Glad to see the Sontarans and The Ood back. And for once, the Daleks didn't get on my nerves, I suspect this had a lot to do with Julian Bleach's Davros. Dark, brooding, ever so bonkers, a pitch perfect portrayal. Maybe that's the problem with the minor actors. The series was filled with terrific actors. If they'd employed less talented "proper" actors, maybe the hammy ones wouldn't have been so obvious.
Oh, and I didn't think the Adipose were cute. I thought they were shit. And I'm not 100% convinced about the Beetle on Donna's back either. I take it that the props department were watching their Planet of the Spiders DVDs when they made that.
But these are minor quibbles. The Wasp was good. It was nice to see Martha back, and Mickey. Now that's one character who has been allowed to develop nicely. Way back in 2005, in Rose, he was just bobbins. Comedy Crap Boyfriend. I'm hoping there's a place for him in Torchwood now.
But one thing I did enjoy about this series was the fact that so much of it remained under wraps. Looking back, very few spoilers made it out. We had Rose's cameo in the first episode, the "Regeneration" and I watched the climax convinced that James Nesbitt or David Morrissey would be donning the Converse boots before the end of the 13th episode. But Tennant remains. For the time being, anyway. I quite like the idea of David Morrissey though. Maybe later.
Highlight, again, was the Steven Moffat episodes. In fact, the real highlight was the Episode Commentary Podcast with Moffat, Tennant and RTD. If it's not still on i-Tunes, I think you can still get it from the BBC Website, and it'll definitely be on the Boxset. But this series did have a higher percentage of good stories than in previous years. My other favourites included The Fires of Pompeii, the Sontaran double header and for just trying something different, The Unicorn and The Wasp and the slightly creepy Midnight.
So pretty much a big thumbs up of Uma Thurman/Even Cowgirls Get The Blues proportions all round. I may repost all of this in a couple of weeks once I've watched it all again. Re-writing history again as I change my mind. And rediscover favourite bits.
I'm just glad the series has remained so popular. The series climax attracted over 10 million viewers, which made it the most watched programme that week, and just goes to show that even with several hundred different channels out there, there is still an audience for good,high quality family entertainment on a Saturday night. Even if Last Choir Standing might make you think otherwise.
Still, it'll soon be Christmas.
David Tennant, David Morrissey, Cybermen and Victorian funerals. Hurrah!!!!
Saturday, 12 July 2008
Friday, 13 June 2008
Life, an update
Ahoy hoy.
I'm no good at this blogging thing. I'm easily distracted. Mind you I always have been, in fact some years back, my ability to be distracted hastened the end of a fairly bumpy relationship. Looking back I suppose it wasn't the brightest move on my part to try to phone in to a competition on Kevin Greening's Radio 1 show slap bang in the middle of a blazing row with my then girlfriend, but I did... Mind you, at the time 95% of our time was taken up with fighting, so whenever i phoned it would have been a bad time.
And in truth, I'd probably still do it. Apart from the fact that I'm unlikely to listen to Radio One again in a hurry, and of course Mr Greening has long since ceased from doing phone in competitions. Among other things.
Sorry I digress. See, easily distracted, told you.
Thinking back now, the prize was the complete back catalogue of the Pet Shop Boys on cd. Which at the time I already owned. Twice over. Still, it seemed like a good idea at the time. Although I'm pretty sure that "It Seemed A good Idea At The Time" may become my motto in life.
I went out a couple of weeks ago with some "young people" these dyas they are all into skiffle, hanging round milk bars, listening to the popular beat combos of the day, and we went out for a couple of drinks, and suddenly after a while I found myself thinking, "Hold on, it's daylight again...how did that happen?" Now I'm nearly 40, I work in a popular High Street bank, well, I work in a bank anyway, and my life has calmed down a lot since the 90's. I got home at 5am, and I finally recovered about 10 days later. 10 days. They want to do it again next week. This time dressed as PIRATES!
I can't do it.
There was a time when I could go out till 5, and indeed later, and still make it into work for 9. And there was a time when I would have been happy to go out as a Pirate. But not now. I'm old enough to be their dad. I take 10 days to recover. They want to hit the town, and all I can think about is, "But I'm going to miss Casualty".
So, now, here on this patchy blog, I shall admit it. Say it loud, say it proud...
I am middle aged.
There, I've said it. I don't want to be up at 5am anymore.
Oh shit, I've just realised my life has become a Janis Ian lyric. Again. Only this time I'm not depressed about being 17 anymore...
Tea and Sympathy
I don't want to ride the milk train anymore
I'll go to bed at nine and waken with the dawn
And lunch at half past noon and dinner prompt at five
The comfort of a few old friends long past their prime
Pass the tea and sympathy for the good old days long gone
We'll drink a toast to those who most believe in what they've won
It's a long, long time 'til morning plays wasted on the dawn
And I'll not write another line, for my true love is gone
When the guests have gone, I'll tidy up the rooms
And turn the covers down, and gazing at the moon
Will pray to go quite mad and live in long ago
When you and I were one, so very long ago
Pass the tea and sympathy for the good old days long gone
We'll drink a toast to those who most believe in what they've won
It's a long, long time 'til morning plays wasted on the dawn
And I'll not write another line, for my true love is gone
When I have no dreams to give you anymore
I'll light a blazing fire and wait within the door
And throw my life away, "I wonder why?" they all will say
And now I lay me down to sleep, forever and a day
Pass the tea and sympathy, for the good old days are dead
Let's drink a toast to those who best survived the life they've led
It's a long, long time 'til morning, so build your fires high
Now I lay me down to sleep, forever by your side
See. Easily distracted.
Right, I suggest that if you haven't already, get yourself a copy of Between The Lines by Janis Ian. Forgive my ramblings today, this isn't the post I was going to do. But you know how it is.
Oh, and count the shadows.
I'm no good at this blogging thing. I'm easily distracted. Mind you I always have been, in fact some years back, my ability to be distracted hastened the end of a fairly bumpy relationship. Looking back I suppose it wasn't the brightest move on my part to try to phone in to a competition on Kevin Greening's Radio 1 show slap bang in the middle of a blazing row with my then girlfriend, but I did... Mind you, at the time 95% of our time was taken up with fighting, so whenever i phoned it would have been a bad time.
And in truth, I'd probably still do it. Apart from the fact that I'm unlikely to listen to Radio One again in a hurry, and of course Mr Greening has long since ceased from doing phone in competitions. Among other things.
Sorry I digress. See, easily distracted, told you.
Thinking back now, the prize was the complete back catalogue of the Pet Shop Boys on cd. Which at the time I already owned. Twice over. Still, it seemed like a good idea at the time. Although I'm pretty sure that "It Seemed A good Idea At The Time" may become my motto in life.
I went out a couple of weeks ago with some "young people" these dyas they are all into skiffle, hanging round milk bars, listening to the popular beat combos of the day, and we went out for a couple of drinks, and suddenly after a while I found myself thinking, "Hold on, it's daylight again...how did that happen?" Now I'm nearly 40, I work in a popular High Street bank, well, I work in a bank anyway, and my life has calmed down a lot since the 90's. I got home at 5am, and I finally recovered about 10 days later. 10 days. They want to do it again next week. This time dressed as PIRATES!
I can't do it.
There was a time when I could go out till 5, and indeed later, and still make it into work for 9. And there was a time when I would have been happy to go out as a Pirate. But not now. I'm old enough to be their dad. I take 10 days to recover. They want to hit the town, and all I can think about is, "But I'm going to miss Casualty".
So, now, here on this patchy blog, I shall admit it. Say it loud, say it proud...
I am middle aged.
There, I've said it. I don't want to be up at 5am anymore.
Oh shit, I've just realised my life has become a Janis Ian lyric. Again. Only this time I'm not depressed about being 17 anymore...
Tea and Sympathy
I don't want to ride the milk train anymore
I'll go to bed at nine and waken with the dawn
And lunch at half past noon and dinner prompt at five
The comfort of a few old friends long past their prime
Pass the tea and sympathy for the good old days long gone
We'll drink a toast to those who most believe in what they've won
It's a long, long time 'til morning plays wasted on the dawn
And I'll not write another line, for my true love is gone
When the guests have gone, I'll tidy up the rooms
And turn the covers down, and gazing at the moon
Will pray to go quite mad and live in long ago
When you and I were one, so very long ago
Pass the tea and sympathy for the good old days long gone
We'll drink a toast to those who most believe in what they've won
It's a long, long time 'til morning plays wasted on the dawn
And I'll not write another line, for my true love is gone
When I have no dreams to give you anymore
I'll light a blazing fire and wait within the door
And throw my life away, "I wonder why?" they all will say
And now I lay me down to sleep, forever and a day
Pass the tea and sympathy, for the good old days are dead
Let's drink a toast to those who best survived the life they've led
It's a long, long time 'til morning, so build your fires high
Now I lay me down to sleep, forever by your side
See. Easily distracted.
Right, I suggest that if you haven't already, get yourself a copy of Between The Lines by Janis Ian. Forgive my ramblings today, this isn't the post I was going to do. But you know how it is.
Oh, and count the shadows.
Sunday, 4 May 2008
Friday, 2 May 2008
Saturday, 26 April 2008
Humph
Humphrey Lyttelton 1921 - 2008Samantha tells me she has to go now as she's off to the country residence of her new gentleman friend, who has some interesting birds in the thicket. He keeps a young chicken, but Samantha says there are also wild breeds there, and she can't wait to see his Woodcock, Pullet and Swallow."
"Samantha is something of a keen horse woman, and she tells me that she's off to see a trainer who's offered her the chance of a couple of races he wants her to contest. She's quite excited, as he's prepared to drop his jockeys to enter her at Newmarket."
"Samantha is a qualified croupier and often works at an exclusive Soho club where gamblers pay top money to play roulette all day and poker all night."
"Samantha is off on a dinner date with a gentleman friend from Moscow who's brought over a variety of caviares and an array of vodka-based aperitifs. She says he's going to offer her delicious food in his hotel room and then liquor out on the balcony."
Wednesday, 26 March 2008
Time Crash
Just in case anyone missed it, clicking on the Time Crash link over to your right, will take you to a point just after The Last of The TimeLords, and just before The Voyage of The Damned. Well, it will, until the Copyright Police find out anyway. Share and Enjoy.
Sunday, 23 March 2008
Quick post
I've been even more lax in my posts recently, nearly 3 months since my last one. In that time I have been suspended by, and re-instated by my employers. Been through 6 weeks of Hell and had to fight for my reputation, health and sanity, without any support from my employers or union, I have much to tell you my young friends, however, I must check out the libel laws first.Although, without giving too much away, I won.
In the meantime, have this further proof that my Sky+ is more mental than Heather Mills. And a quick reminder that there's only 2 weeks to go before what will probably be David Tennant's final series of Doctor Who. 
Although, the good news is... Takin' Over The Asylum is due out on DVD very soon.
Now, if you missed this series when it was first shown on BBC2, I urge you to buy a copy. One of the most beautiful, funny dramas ever produced by the good folk at BBC Scotland. Starring not only the aforementioned Mr Tennant, but the superb Ken Stott. Anyway, I'm getting ahead of myself. I will post a full review when the DVD comes out. Anyway, that Sky + box thing....
Wednesday, 2 January 2008
2007 and all that
So, how was it for you?
In common with every newspaper and blogger in the world, with a few notable exceptions, I thought I'd have a wee look back on my highs and lows of the past year and maybe look ahead to whatever 2008 may throw at us.
Musically, the juggernaut of shite vomited (is this medically possible?)up by the likes of X Factor rumbles on. Ruining the once quite exciting prospect of waiting to discover what would be the Christmas No.1, something which has long since been over taken by whatever Simon Cowell says it is. The last time I was really excited about the Christmas Chart-Topper was back in the days of The Mike Flowers Pops. Sadly that year it was popular children's entertainer Michael Jackson who took the crown. Of course, it was the lovely Kevin Greening who championed Mr Flowers all those years ago. Of whom I will write at a later date. For now, Cheers Kevley.
Other lows in the world of music came in the relentless dumbing down of BBC6Music. Once an oasis of quality, now just a pale imitation of it's earlier self. That plays Oasis. What was once innovative and experimental, is now a rest home for former Xfm presenters and at times a playlist not out of place at Radio One. It is possible that I'm a bit miffed that Andrew Collins has gone and Gideon Coe has been shunted. And Phill Jupitus has also gone from Breakfast. Is nothing sacred.
Still on the plus side, Radiohead released their most accessible and upbeat album in a long time. Initially only via their website, but now on retro-compatible formats such as cd and vinyl. Go on, treat yourself. For myself, my musical year seems to have been taken over by digging out old favourites, and now my i-Pod is jam packed with Ultravox, Everything But the Girl (before they discovered dance music) Prefab Sprout, The Cure and The Smiths.
Book wise, I seem to have fallen out of love with novels. Either that or I've been reading some old tut. I do still enjoy reading, but these days I'm happy to spend my time with autobiographies and some of the post-"Round Ireland with a Fridge" type of books are still worth a look. Although, strangely, I've been quite impressed with Jimmy Carr and Lucy Greeves book on comedy and jokes. I posted earlier about Gordon Brown and his book on Courage, I still recommend it, but you might want to give Alastair Campbell's Diaries a bit of a body swerve. They could, and indeed should have been more exciting. But there was too much self censorship in those pages. I'll bet Malcolm Tucker wouldn't have wimped out in a similar way.
Television has had it's moments too. I won't go on again about it, much, but Doctor Who managed to produced some truly outstanding drama in the episodes Blink, Family of Blood and Human Nature. The "scandal" surrounding competition phone-ins never went away, with the upshot being...well pretty much as you were really. The BBC self flagellated, but re-introduced phone in competitions, ITV and Channels 4 and five looked a bit shamefaced for a couple of days but soon got back to whoring their soul, and the newspapers, with their own agendas, lapped it up. 2008 will be pretty much the same.
The sublime Life on Mars finished, but will be back, Back, BACK ish as Ashes to Ashes later this year. BBC Sunday nights were enlivened by Cranford and Stephen Fry did the business over on ITV as a slightly darker "Doc Martin" type. Doc Martin on the other hand, although a ratings hit, looked tired and past it's prime. Panorama gave us the extraordinary sight of a Scientologist not being the most flaky person in a room, thanks to incredible Shouty Man. John Sweeney. However, in his defence, if it had been me, given the circumstances, I'd have decked the Scientologist chap many hours earlier and then proceeded to dance on his twitching bones. It is possible I have some issues when smug and bullying representatives of religious cults are involved. UKtvG2 suddenly became "Dave", although as yet, no-one called Dave has changed his name to UKtvG2. Unless of course, you know better...Cyril.
Politically it was a year of change. Scotland now has, nominally, a Nationalist Government, run by Alex the Moon faced Gimp. This probably came about, not just by the mistrust in Labour but by the local difficulties experienced by The Scottish Socialists, who managed to tear themselves to shreds, lose any seats, and goodwill they may have had and had a wee bit of bother with the News of the World too. Round 2 of Sheridan versus News International is looming, and I'm not sure if my favoured outcome is possible. Surely both sides can't lose?
The evil that is David Cameron continues to weave it's malodorous spell on the country, and there seems to be no sign of his career being de-railed anytime soon. What is the power he has over the media? And indeed in voters in general. John Sweeney and myself should go round and shout at him. Isn't it time the rumours about Carlton, and their former employees were substantiated? It's not that I genuinely believe David Cameron is a Satan worshipping, bestialitist horse botherer with a vociferous appetite for cocaine, I just want to hear him deny it on Andrew Marr's Sunday Morning programme on BBC1.
Labour on the other hand quite brilliantly managed to eradicate any good will left to them. Even after the long goodbye from "Tone". Crisis after crisis, sloppy handling of PMQs and dithering of the highest order-again-from Gordon Brown has more than helped the Tories get back into the forefront of British politics. There appears to be no way back for Labour at the moment. And given the betrayal of trust demonstrated by the Party since 1997, it's hardly surprising.
The Lib-Dems finally got round to knifing their leader, again, and as I know very little of Nick Clegg, I'm going to say very little about them. It's what they're used to really. All I will say is that I still think they would be in a better position had they not dumped Charlie Kennedy. It is possible he had a drink problem, but only if judged by UK standards. He's from Fort William. By those standards he's a big girly lightweight.
On a more personal note, 2007 was the year I stopped buying a regular newspaper. I realised that all the bits from The Guardian I actually read were available for free on the GU website, and the bits I didn't read contributed to a large pile of waste paper. I've started to take a closer look at my health following my visit to hospital. With luck, the only thing about me jaundiced in 2008 will be my view of world. Sadly, thanks to spending too many weeks in hotels, followed by Christmas and New Year, my diet has left a lot to be desired in recent weeks, but I'll be back on track soon. Really must stop eating so much butter. And sugar.
I've changed jobs, but much as I'm enjoying my new work, I don't think it'll last, I want, indeed need some adventures this year. Maybe this'll be the year I step off into the void with my eyes shut. It's been a long time since I last did that. The Tories were in power then. It's good to step out of the comfort zone.
So what do I hope 2008 will bring?
I'd like to get my life back on track really. I've been bumbling about far too much recently. I've become weary of my own company. I'm tired of going on holiday on my own, and I'm tired of waking up at 3am on my own too. There is a section, Parenthesis, in Julian Barnes 1989 work "A History of the World in 10 and a half Chapters" I always seem to come back to, which sums up most of those late night insecurities and feelings. It's not the lightest bit of reading in the world but... Sorry, I digress.
I hope things are different this year. I hope I'm different this year.
Maybe it's time to say "Yes" a bit more.
Actually, there's no maybe about it.
Anyhoo, enough looking back at 2007, let's see what 2008 has to offer.
Soupy Twist.
In common with every newspaper and blogger in the world, with a few notable exceptions, I thought I'd have a wee look back on my highs and lows of the past year and maybe look ahead to whatever 2008 may throw at us.
Musically, the juggernaut of shite vomited (is this medically possible?)up by the likes of X Factor rumbles on. Ruining the once quite exciting prospect of waiting to discover what would be the Christmas No.1, something which has long since been over taken by whatever Simon Cowell says it is. The last time I was really excited about the Christmas Chart-Topper was back in the days of The Mike Flowers Pops. Sadly that year it was popular children's entertainer Michael Jackson who took the crown. Of course, it was the lovely Kevin Greening who championed Mr Flowers all those years ago. Of whom I will write at a later date. For now, Cheers Kevley.
Other lows in the world of music came in the relentless dumbing down of BBC6Music. Once an oasis of quality, now just a pale imitation of it's earlier self. That plays Oasis. What was once innovative and experimental, is now a rest home for former Xfm presenters and at times a playlist not out of place at Radio One. It is possible that I'm a bit miffed that Andrew Collins has gone and Gideon Coe has been shunted. And Phill Jupitus has also gone from Breakfast. Is nothing sacred.
Still on the plus side, Radiohead released their most accessible and upbeat album in a long time. Initially only via their website, but now on retro-compatible formats such as cd and vinyl. Go on, treat yourself. For myself, my musical year seems to have been taken over by digging out old favourites, and now my i-Pod is jam packed with Ultravox, Everything But the Girl (before they discovered dance music) Prefab Sprout, The Cure and The Smiths.
Book wise, I seem to have fallen out of love with novels. Either that or I've been reading some old tut. I do still enjoy reading, but these days I'm happy to spend my time with autobiographies and some of the post-"Round Ireland with a Fridge" type of books are still worth a look. Although, strangely, I've been quite impressed with Jimmy Carr and Lucy Greeves book on comedy and jokes. I posted earlier about Gordon Brown and his book on Courage, I still recommend it, but you might want to give Alastair Campbell's Diaries a bit of a body swerve. They could, and indeed should have been more exciting. But there was too much self censorship in those pages. I'll bet Malcolm Tucker wouldn't have wimped out in a similar way.
Television has had it's moments too. I won't go on again about it, much, but Doctor Who managed to produced some truly outstanding drama in the episodes Blink, Family of Blood and Human Nature. The "scandal" surrounding competition phone-ins never went away, with the upshot being...well pretty much as you were really. The BBC self flagellated, but re-introduced phone in competitions, ITV and Channels 4 and five looked a bit shamefaced for a couple of days but soon got back to whoring their soul, and the newspapers, with their own agendas, lapped it up. 2008 will be pretty much the same.
The sublime Life on Mars finished, but will be back, Back, BACK ish as Ashes to Ashes later this year. BBC Sunday nights were enlivened by Cranford and Stephen Fry did the business over on ITV as a slightly darker "Doc Martin" type. Doc Martin on the other hand, although a ratings hit, looked tired and past it's prime. Panorama gave us the extraordinary sight of a Scientologist not being the most flaky person in a room, thanks to incredible Shouty Man. John Sweeney. However, in his defence, if it had been me, given the circumstances, I'd have decked the Scientologist chap many hours earlier and then proceeded to dance on his twitching bones. It is possible I have some issues when smug and bullying representatives of religious cults are involved. UKtvG2 suddenly became "Dave", although as yet, no-one called Dave has changed his name to UKtvG2. Unless of course, you know better...Cyril.
Politically it was a year of change. Scotland now has, nominally, a Nationalist Government, run by Alex the Moon faced Gimp. This probably came about, not just by the mistrust in Labour but by the local difficulties experienced by The Scottish Socialists, who managed to tear themselves to shreds, lose any seats, and goodwill they may have had and had a wee bit of bother with the News of the World too. Round 2 of Sheridan versus News International is looming, and I'm not sure if my favoured outcome is possible. Surely both sides can't lose?
The evil that is David Cameron continues to weave it's malodorous spell on the country, and there seems to be no sign of his career being de-railed anytime soon. What is the power he has over the media? And indeed in voters in general. John Sweeney and myself should go round and shout at him. Isn't it time the rumours about Carlton, and their former employees were substantiated? It's not that I genuinely believe David Cameron is a Satan worshipping, bestialitist horse botherer with a vociferous appetite for cocaine, I just want to hear him deny it on Andrew Marr's Sunday Morning programme on BBC1.
Labour on the other hand quite brilliantly managed to eradicate any good will left to them. Even after the long goodbye from "Tone". Crisis after crisis, sloppy handling of PMQs and dithering of the highest order-again-from Gordon Brown has more than helped the Tories get back into the forefront of British politics. There appears to be no way back for Labour at the moment. And given the betrayal of trust demonstrated by the Party since 1997, it's hardly surprising.
The Lib-Dems finally got round to knifing their leader, again, and as I know very little of Nick Clegg, I'm going to say very little about them. It's what they're used to really. All I will say is that I still think they would be in a better position had they not dumped Charlie Kennedy. It is possible he had a drink problem, but only if judged by UK standards. He's from Fort William. By those standards he's a big girly lightweight.
On a more personal note, 2007 was the year I stopped buying a regular newspaper. I realised that all the bits from The Guardian I actually read were available for free on the GU website, and the bits I didn't read contributed to a large pile of waste paper. I've started to take a closer look at my health following my visit to hospital. With luck, the only thing about me jaundiced in 2008 will be my view of world. Sadly, thanks to spending too many weeks in hotels, followed by Christmas and New Year, my diet has left a lot to be desired in recent weeks, but I'll be back on track soon. Really must stop eating so much butter. And sugar.
I've changed jobs, but much as I'm enjoying my new work, I don't think it'll last, I want, indeed need some adventures this year. Maybe this'll be the year I step off into the void with my eyes shut. It's been a long time since I last did that. The Tories were in power then. It's good to step out of the comfort zone.
So what do I hope 2008 will bring?
I'd like to get my life back on track really. I've been bumbling about far too much recently. I've become weary of my own company. I'm tired of going on holiday on my own, and I'm tired of waking up at 3am on my own too. There is a section, Parenthesis, in Julian Barnes 1989 work "A History of the World in 10 and a half Chapters" I always seem to come back to, which sums up most of those late night insecurities and feelings. It's not the lightest bit of reading in the world but... Sorry, I digress.
I hope things are different this year. I hope I'm different this year.
Maybe it's time to say "Yes" a bit more.
Actually, there's no maybe about it.
Anyhoo, enough looking back at 2007, let's see what 2008 has to offer.
Soupy Twist.
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