Good day to you, dearest bloggerisationism fiends and jolly welcome you all are to the latest From The North blog update direct from The Stately Telly Topping Manor; coming to you in celebration of the fact that, you know, the weather's turned a wee-bit-nicer of late (mostly, though not exclusively - see below for details of one day when it very definitely wasn't). Let us, therefore, begin this latest set of random and bizarres dribblings from yer actual Keith Telly Topping's diseased, fragmented and leaking brain with this rather lovely vintage photo of Stowell Street, long before it became this city's beloved Chinatown. This was taken, presumably, sometime during the early-1960s, given the cars parked, rather willy-nilly, at the far end of the street and the fact that Wellbar House on Gallowgate can be seen towering in the background. That was completed circa 1961.
This blogger should, in fact, have been visiting one of the several extremely excellent restaurants which now populate Stowell Street last week. Sadly however, the trip had to be postponed due to a sad death in a family of this blogger's intended luncheon colleague. Obviously, this blogger's thoughts and best wishes are with the chap in question and his family at this time of great loss and sorrow. Difficult as it is to believe sometimes, dearest blog fiends, there are a few (in fact, more than a few) things in life which are slightly more important and a tasty plate of King Prawn Curry with egg-fried rice and no veg. True story, believe it or not.
Anyway, dear blog reader it is, indeed, that time again, this blogger is able to confirm at this very juncture. What time, you may well ask? Why, this time, of course.
Therefore, with joy in our wallets, we start the latest bloggeriasationism update with a serious question occasioned by this blogger doing some local newspaper research - as he frequently does for a variety of reasons: Is this, Keith Telly Topping wonders, 'The Ultimate 1970s TV Clipping'? And, if not, then why not? How much more 1970s could this possibly be? None more 1970s, that's how much.
In fact, dear blog fiend, the only way in which that could have been any more 1970s would've been if the murderer featured on that particular episode of the popular 1970s ITV panel quiz Whodunnit? had turned out to be a member of Wizzard (a popular beat-combo of the 1970s, you might've heard of them). Oh, hang on ...
Anyway speaking, as he was back at the start of this bloggerisationism update, about this blogger's beloved Toon just a few months ago, this blogger found himself getting into quite a daft and pointless kerfuffle with the owner of a particular locally-based website which shall remain absolutely nameless. Due, exclusively, to this blogger's extensive knowledge of British horror movies, psychological-thrillers and other tales of mystery and suspense. This chap (or it may, in fact, have been a lady chap), had issued a challenge to his amd/or her own dearest blog readers to name as many films as they could which were filmed ('or partly filmed' and bear that last bit in mind because it's quite important to what follows) in Wor Geet Canny small-fishing-village-on-the-Tyne. So, this blogger, being up for a challenge at the best of times and also being a smart-arse of outrageous proportions, provided a list. Starting with the really obvious ones. The Likely Lads.
And, Get Carter.
And Payroll.
Then moving onto the slightly less obvious ones; Purely Belter (the film, incidentally, which allows anyone playing the 'Six Degrees Of Separation' game to get from Stan Laurel to Alan Shearer in but two moves - it's via The Blood Beast Terror if you wish to play-along at home!)
And, On The Night Of The Fire.
And, The Clouded Yellow.
And Stormy Monday.
To the downright ruddy obscure, The Ballad of Tam-Lin and Schizo. What this blogger received back was an unexpected right mouthful of impertinence over the latter two, with the website owner in question claiming the neither 'even exist.' To which this blogger, without further aggravating comment, provided Wikipedia links (here and here) - to prove that both most certainly do, indeed, exist - and screengrabs - to demonstrate that both feature some filming in Newcastle.
This blogger then received a further mouthful of crass impertinence over this blogger being 'a know-all' (and, various other naughty names which he won't bore you with). Yes. Guilty as charged sir (or madam). So, perhaps next time you don't want a question answered, it might be an idea not to ask it in a public forum in the first place. There are, incidentally, this blogger is sure several further films which feature location filming in-and-around Newcastle, Gatesheed, Waalsend, Whitley Bay, North Shields and various other parts of Tyneside (Billy Elliot, for one), but those listed were the ones that came most-readily to mind. Aren't some people simply strange?
And, speaking of strange people ...
For that nonsense, to this nonsense. Awoo. Next ...
Now, it's time for a, necessary, advert break and for a word from one of our sponsors. Particularly as it's washing day at The Stately Telly Topping Manor so this seems entirely appropriate.
Saturday 8 March, as you may well be aware, was International Women's Day. As this blogger has often noted in the past, his sister is not his enemy and, therefore, in celebration of that particular day dedicated to all women, here are six of the best of them.
This blogger mentioned previously that, whilst the weather, by-and-large, has started to show signs this too-long-a-winter is drawing, thankfully if rather more slowly than one would like, to a close, this hasn't always been the case. Example: Last Friday seemed quite a nice, if somewhat overcast, day when this blogger decided, on something of a whim, to pop down to the local Aldi for a few items which he could've easily left until the following day but, you know, didn't. Half-an-hour there and back, no sweat. This was what this blogger trudged back in.
And, this was how he spent the rest of that day.
Snivel. Cough. Splutter. Wheeze.
Still, it could've been worse. Just.
Meanwhile, dear bloggerisationism fiends, this little lot arrived over the course of a couple of days in Percy The Stately Telly Topping Manor postal-flap to keep yer actual Keith Telly Topping more-or-less entertained. For, at least, the next few days whilst he recovers from his rainy exertions to the shop. Several of these will also, hopefully, come in handy at some stage in the future when this blogger decides exactly what his next literary endeavour will likely be.
Of course, that's once this blogger sees the recently-completed Island of Terror published and available for purchase (later in 2025, apparently). This blogger will say one thing about That There Mister David Howe, he's a sound-bloke, an outstanding publisher and a world-class lover. Except, that's actually three things. Okay, Keith Telly Topping will say three things about That There Mister David Howe then ... Remember, both Return to the Vault of Horror and A Vault of Horror are still extremely available if you haven't already bought one, several or lots. You might even get one or two of these super-sexy bookmarks with any copies which are ordered. Plug ends.
So, 'what's on The Stately Telly Topping Manor Blu-ray today then, Keith Telly Topping?' this blogger hears you all, as one, ask with a mighty voice. Why, this, dearest bloggerisationism fiends. This is what's on The Stately Telly Topping Manor Blu-ray today. Which is also, interestingly, an anagram of the title. Or, at least, it should be.
In the most recent From The North bloggerisationism update this blogger mentioned that, for a brief moment at the end of February, every planet was due to appear in the night sky simultaneously in a rare celestial spectacle. This so-called 'planetary parade', occurred shortly after sunset on 28 February and it will be the last time the phenomenon occurs until 2040 (by which time, presumably, this blogger will be long dead and gone). The full planetary alignment saw Mars, Jupiter, Uranus, Venus, Neptune, Mercury and Saturn all lined-up just like that song by Sheikback. And, indeed, they did. Someone even managed to capture it on film.
Albeit, this blogger doesn't want to ruin anybody's viewing of the planetary alignment, but he's pretty sure that Jupitar, Saturn, Uranus and Neptune are all quite a bit bigger than Mercury, Venus and Mars, not the same size as this here illustration suggested. Just sayin'.
Perspective. It's quite difficult to get through life without it, dear blog fiends. 'Small ... far away.'
Now, a heartfelt From The North Thought For The Day, dearest bloggerisationism fiends. Keith Telly Topping reckons that those who claim mixed-marriages don't work should go and funk themselves. Hard. And, ideally, painfully.
This blogger has received more than a few requests from one dearest blog fiend for 'more pictures of ladies with big jugs.' So, especially for you (and you know who you are), whom is this blogger but to comply with your desires. Satisfied?
Does anyone else, this blogger wonders, ever have one of them days - you know, them days - where one goes rooting through a large box of DVDs that one recorded off-the-telly between fifteen and twenty years ago looking for something specific, find something completely different that you'd forgotten you owned and then spent the next hour-and-a-half watching it whilst still not, actually, finding the thing you went looking for in the first place? Just this blogger then? That figures ...
This blogger has been having lots of 'those' sort of days of late, he must confess. As previously noted, one of his days quite recently was this sort of day.
Another was one of these sort of days.
And yet another was, spectacularly, one of these sort of days.
Time for another advert, perhaps?
'Dig the music, kids!'
'Listen, there was no reference to strangling a bare-breasted prostitute for the European Version when I read the original cheque ...'
'This is a very interesting old house.' 'I don't know, it gets a bit creepy sometimes. It's a bit like one of those houses in horror films.' 'I know what you mean. You think Boris Karloff's gonna pop up at any moment.' And, five minutes later, he does. Crap!
The point in Doctor Blood's Coffin in which one realises, for certain, that Peter Blood is a total bad'un (we'll leave aside the title just for the moment), occurs during the car drive back from the mines to the village in which Kieron Moore completely ignores everything that Hazel Court says because he's got evil-doings on his damaged brain. No sane man could possibly do that when sitting next to The Divine Goddess and (first) Queen of Horror. It's just not right. He must, therefore, be evil.
This blogger is, of course, a renowned and published expert on horror movies (if not, necessarily, a renowned and published 'world' expert then at least within the confines of The Stately Telly Topping Manor). Therefore, can someone please explain to this blogger why, exactly, he's never checked out this clear masterpiece previously? Answer me that and stay fashionable.
'Fancy trying it this way tonight, dear?'
And now, today's 'no shit?' social media posting of the week.
Obviously, that needs to be followed by this.
So many questions. And now, here is an important public service announcement.
The latest From The North Headline of The Week nominees include this one from the Daily Record.
Kent Online proving that they've really got their finger on the pulse of the issues that matter to the general populous.
The Manchester Evening News, whose alleged 'Real Life' writer, one Paige Oldfield, got paid for writing this 'not-even-remotely-real-life' piece of abject horseshit. Well done, Paige, we're all sure your parents are really proud of you.
Somerset Live with possibly the finest example of a 'someone got paid to write this?' nonsense since ... well, since Paige Oldfield wrote that thing in the Manchester Evening News. Phil Norris, seemingly, is the person responsible for the latest 'you get yer money fer nowt' exclusive.
An international flavour is provided by the News Republic. And yes, this does, indeed, seem to be uncannily like that Simpsons episode. Or, indeed, several Simpsons episodes. And yes, this blogger is aware the story is four years old ... but it's still funny!
It's nice to see that writing utter risible crap and getting paid for it isn't merely the province of the local media, the BBC News website is also at it. Frequently. Congratulations go to Eleanor Maslin and Jake Zuckerman for, seemingly, believing that this tripe constitutes 'news'. Does anyone else remember when the BBC used to be run by adults?
You have to hand it to Sky News, however. Anything the BBC can do, they can do ... worse. This, also it would seem, constitutes 'news'. It almost makes one long for the days when Uncle Rupert and his attack dog Kay Burley were still in charge. Almost, but not quite. Actually, not even 'almost' if we're honest about this.
Congratulations are definitely due to the Daily Torygraph for doing what seemed to be the impossible and managing to make Alexander Armstrong into an even more annoying, self-entitled Tory twat than he already was. Jolly well done, there, guys - that's a public service and no mistake.
The Cumberland and Westmorland Herald, meanwhile, have the only story that matters, the four-hour closure of the Penrith branch of Greggs.
And, in the Cumberland and Westmorland Herald newsroom ...
But the winner, by a clear margin, goes to the Ballymena Gazette.
From The North's daily bloggerisationism traffic (in terms of page-hits) continues its recent upward trend, it would appear.
This, it seems, is the blog that reaches the parts plenty of other blogs also reach. But we do it, with style!
From The North's latest news story concerning The Be-Atles (a popular beat-combo of the 1960s, you mightv'e heard of them). And, it's good news, everyone.
Forty six years ago this very week, on 9 March 1979, The Jam released their seventh single 'Strange Town' b/w 'The Butterfly Collector' on Polydor Records. This blogger will just repeat the really important part of that sentence. Forty Six Funking Years Ago. Where the Hell has my life gone?
Meanwhile, here's a picture of The Punk and The Godfather. Or, should that be, The Modfather and The Mod Grandfather? Meet the new boss, same as the old boss.
Sometimes, dearest bloggerisationism fiends, only but one word is necessary to convey what needs to be said. Y'feel me?
