Welcome you all are, to another weekly From The North bloggerisationism update, dear blog readers. You may have noticed. It's quite a short one this time though, mainly because there hasn't really been a great deal of noteworthy news to report on over these last few days. Dunno if any of you lot spotted anything which this blogger may have missed?
Well, except for one bit of breaking news; due to the sad passing of the late Queen, it has been announced that the world is to shut down with immediate effect. An entirely sensible decision, this blogger feels.
In all seriousness, this blogger was jolly glad that From The North's last bloggerisationism update went live exactly when it did, mid-afternoon last Thursday. As, due to circumstances beyond any of our control which kicked-off big-style about an hour afterwards, From The North at least gave all dear blog readers something to do if they wished to get away from the TV for the rest of that evening. And, as it happens, some people did want to do that, whilst others didn't. That's democracy in action for you.
Certainly, on Saturday for example this - entirely unintended - strategy appeared to have worked splendidly with From The North receiving almost ten thousand page hits, more than double the usual daily average. No football on, y'see, dear blog reader. Lots of chaps (and, ladygirls) with nothing to do but read the Interweb, it would seem.
Interesting side point concerning the BBC's reporting on major news stories in general; usually - and certainly when this blogger was working there - any major breaking story had to be confirmed by at least two separate sources before they would broadcast it. Which meant that the corporation - infamously - missed out on a few big scoops over the years, most notably Michael Jackson's death. They supposedly had that story a few minutes before most other media outlets but only from one source (the TMZ website). They were waiting for a second confirmation when Sky News, which also had TMZ as a sole source decided to run the story anyway. On the other hand, Sky doing that sort of thing can lead to gross mistakes such as the time they grandly announced the death of Norman Wisdom because someone had posted this on Twitter only to, subsequently, discover that he was still alive and would be for another four years. With the death of the Queen, the Beeb seem to have run their story just on the one source; though the fact that source was Buckingham Palace probably makes sense in this particular regard. Of course, it's worth remembering that the last time something comparable occurred, the BBC was the only alternative to breaking the story as even ITV was, at that stage, merely a gleam in the milkman's eye.
Everybody, of course, had an opinion on the subject of the death of, as the Gruniad noted in a fine piece by Sam Knight from a couple of years ago concerning Operation London Bridge, 'the only monarch that most of us have ever known.' There were many fine tributes, some from very unexpected quarters (this blogger found Billy Bragg's thoughtful and, seemingly, sincere piece on Facebook extremely moving), to a long life, broadly speaking, well lived. This blogger's Facebook fiend Christian noted that the Queen 'had very much become part of the fabric of the UK. Most of us have never known anything else and it's the end of an era.' For what it's worth, this blogger has never had too many problems with most of the royal family; Keith Telly Topping admits that he is, nominally, slightly more inclined towards gentle republicanism (small r) if that was an option but only slightly. He is, he confesses, sometimes rather bewildered by the regard with which our royals are viewed in other countries where they do not have a similar system of monarchy (particularly America which, let us remember, once fought a revolution to get rid of them and now, seemingly, wants them back!) Nevertheless, the late Queen was all right ('Her Majesty's a pretty nice girl but she doesn't have a lot to say', indeed). Charles is quite an interesting bloke, who has some interesting ideas (and, a few batty ones, which is allowed) and was vocally 'green' years before it became fashionable to be so. And, William is a rock star. Most of the rest, this blogger has less regard for but if we are going to have a monarchy (and, from all polls carried out there still seems to be a decent-sized majority in favour of keeping them) then this blogger would sooner it was this sort of constitutional monarchy rather than an absolutist one. But, ultimately, apart from having their faces on the money this blogger spends, royalty in general and the monarch in particular doesn't really impact too much on his daily life. And, as a consequence, he bears them no ill will, whatsoever. Except for Prince Andrew, obviously. He's a fucker.
The last comment, incidentally (made partly - but only partly - in jest) can, apparently, now be considered a crime in the UK (see below for further details on this). If, therefore, around this time next week when the weekly From The North bloggerisationism update is due and there is only silence coming from The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House, there's probably a good reason. That this blogger has been banged up like a Toffer, at His Majesty's pleasure in The Tower and is awaiting the arrival of Toby Gruntsplatter chief High Executioner to the court of King Edward The Optical Illusion. This blogger, to be fair, probably deserves it and will ask Toby to take two thousand four hundred and forty eight further bloggerisationism offences into consideration before swinging the chopper.
This blogger doesn't normally indulge in the following sort of criticism, particularly as he fully realises that doing live TV is an art form all of its own. But, on Friday afternoon he heard the BBC's Home Editor Mark Easton (whom Keith Telly Topping has always rather admired), twice in about thirty seconds refer to us finding out in the coming weeks and months how King Chas 'is going to rule.' Note to Mark: He isn't going to rule any one or any thing, he's going to 'reign' which is quite a different thing altogether; this is a constitutional monarchy, not an absolutist one. And, just to prove that Friday's gaff wasn't a one-off, a day later here's an article Mark wrote for the BBC News website in which he says: 'The King, it seems, wanted nothing to get between him and the people he now rules.' That sound you hear, dear blog reader, is this blogger grinding his teeth again. Nor is one, strictly speaking, required to kiss the King's ring any more. Although, apparently, this lady seemingly thought that was still The Law.
Watching The Proclamation Of The King broadcast on BBC1 on Saturday (top gig by The Royal Horn Section there, by the way), this blogger recalled something said shortly after Mrs Thatcher's funeral took place at Westminster Abbey. A lot of people - this blogger very much included - were being very arch, cynical and sneering about all of the rather Over-The-Top pomp and ceremony involved in that event. But, on that week's episode of Have I Got News For You, the King of the Cynics, Ian Hislop, said something which really struck Keith Telly Topping at the time and which this blogger recalled this week. Ian noted that 'ceremony' and 'tradition' are both things that we actually do really well in Britain. We've got all these beautiful buildings and people with spectacular uniforms and daft titles (Gold Stick In Waiting, et cetera) and, it's stupid not to use them once in a while. So, this blogger was, he has to confess, rather moved by the whole proclamation thing - something which he did not expect. The archaic language actually helped to make clear this was part of a tradition which goes back centuries. This blogger was, he admits, somewhat surprised that 'Defender Of The Faith' is a still a part of the monarch's official title. No reason why it shouldn't be, of course, the King (or Queen) remains head of The Church Of England. But, right there, is a tradition that goes back to Henry VIII in, what, the 1530s or something. The confirmation of The Church Of Scotland as a separate entity, that was a part of The Act Of Union (Queen Anne, 1707). The language used ('our sole and true Liege-Lord') recalled ... well Game Of Thrones, mainly, but also Coronations going right back to the Twelfth Century (maybe, earlier). So, oddly, this blogger found himself with old Hislop on this score. Tradition can be good. Ceremony can be good. Pomp (though, there wasn't much of that on display beside The Royal Horn Section giving it some serious blow) can be good. In the right place. At the right time.
Take, for instance, the famous and long-established traditional 'Marching Along Slowly Next To A Car Holding A Pointy Stick' ceremony. The tourists all flock to see that one.
We also learned from The Proclamation Show that the new Prince Of Wales is left-handed (how had we never spotted that before?) And clearly, therefore, is part of the leftish agenda and to be viewed with suspicion by everyone; the Daily Scum Mail in particular.
A lot of this is, of course, profoundly irrational, as this blogger's old fiend Nick noted on Facebook. But 'it is steeped in history. As David Olusoga (whose presence among the commentators I hope pissed off as many twats as possible) said, what we have been seeing has been based on centuries of tradition, but we can now see them happening in a way our forebears couldn't, not least because there has been a conscious decision to televise as much of it as possible.' In centuries past, the proclamation(s) occurred because that was the only way to disseminate the news. Now, of course, news is instantaneous, but carrying on the old traditions still allows those who wish to and are able to experience them in person. Nick also added that the televising of Charles's Coronation (presumably next year) will be interesting. 'It can't possibly match 1953 in scale, but modern media will enable it to be seen in real time across the globe (not having to fly film cans of BBC telerecordings abroad), [to] a greater percentage of the world's population. I expect The Anointing will again remain unseen, because there still has to be some element of mystery.' This blogger added that the televising of the 1953 Coronation, of course, was a whole series of stories in and of themselves. This blogger is aware that the late Duke Of Edinburgh became something of a figure of ridicule later in his life (and not, entirely, without justification at times especially in regard to some rather racially-insensitive comments he developed a habit of making). But, we often forget that back in the 1950s he was very much seen as something of a moderniser. And that he, among others, was one of the driving forces behind getting his wife's Coronation on telly in the first place when much of the - older - establishment were aghast at such a prospect and dead-set against it. You can imagine the conversations: 'think of all the dreadful common people that will see our centuries old traditions', et cetera. There was a terrific documentary - The Coronation Of Queen Elizabeth II - which this blogger thinks was originally made by either BBC2 or possibly BBC4 but which Keith Telly Topping saw in last year on the Yesterday channel, that was about the background to Coronation day. And about how the BBC's cameras had to be as 'unobtrusive' as possible. How Peter Dymock was hidden away up in the rafters of Westminster Abbey and instructed to pretty much whisper his commentary of the proceedings (which, actually worked really well because it gave it a gravitas it may, otherwise, not have had).
Another thing that this blogger remembered recently was that during the late 1970s, when the then-Bonnie Prince Charlie was on a royal tour to - this blogger believes - Papua New Guinea, from the Nine O'Clock News, the country learned that Charles's name, in Pidgin English, was (and, presumably still is), 'Number One Piccaninny, Him Belong Mrs Queen.' True story. And now, he's The King. So, you know, it shows all of us that we can dream. Dreaming, as Blondie once noted, is free.
Not only that, but this blogger turned over from BBC1 to Sky Sports Cricket to check out how the test match was going only to discover that England had South Africa five wickets down for thirty odd runs and, went on to win the match in less than three days. Truly, it would seem, we are living in The Golden Age Of Good King Charlie (the artist formerly known as Prince).
Of course, the new King, in addition to his very public commitment to issues which were perhaps, once, considered rather fringe (and, indeed, somewhat 'hippy') but are now in the mainstream of public consciousness, also has a pretty decent sense of humour. He was a vocal fan of The Goon Show since childhood and a close fiend of he late Spike Milligan (despite a notorious moment of Spike's wicked, barbed humour), Michael Bentine and Stephen Fry (who once had to explain to Chas what a 'Prince Albert' was). And, he was also a fan of both Monty Python's Flying Circus and The Goodies (the late, a much-missed Tim Brooke-Taylor once claimed that Charles has offered to play himself in the Goodies Scatty Safari episode. The schedules, sadly, didn't work out so stock footage was used instead). So, all that augers well for his future meetings with Lis Truss, one supposes.
Facebook, as with most forms of social media, included numerous examples of people pointedly not feeling any sorrow or sympathy over the death of the Queen. Or so much as a modicum of interest in the accession of her son to the throne. Mostly for dogmatic ideological reasons. Or for more selfish ones. Because, for instance, a TV show that they'd been looking forward to had been moved aside by the - wholly understandable - rolling news coverage of what is, whether one likes it or not, the biggest news story not just of the week or even the year but, quite possibly, the century so far (certainly since 9/11). Or else, as in the case of more-than-a-few social media users, simply because they fancied a right good whinge about stuff in general. Something which this blogger is the first to admit can be entirely valid and some of these whinges did make legitimate points. Others were just mean and, more often than not, nasty in their anger, hitting out wildly in many directions and at many hapless targets (the BBC, in particular got it in the neck just for doing their job). This blogger is not sure why everyone seems so angry these days over what is, more often than not, trivia. But we do seem, as a society, to have lost what little tolerance for that which does not please us that we once possessed. Case in point, one Facebook posting, in particular, made this blogger properly aghast. It featured someone complaining that a film project they were involved in now would not get the publicity it may have done if the Queen hadn't died. This blogger did, briefly, consider sending this individual a private reply noting that 'yes, it's all about you, isn't it?' And, adding that, no doubt the Queen died, deliberately, when she did just in order to screw up this person's carefully laid plans. In the end, this blogger thought better of it. There's far too much conflict in the world to add to it for no good reason.
That said, this blogger must confess he did very much enjoy a posting from one of his American Facebook fiends asking - seemingly in all seriousness - if the Queen's death would impact on the broadcast of next month's Doctor Who BBC centenary special. 'Yes,' this blogger lied. 'It's been cancelled.' Ah, God bless our gracious fandom. Because we all know that everything in life revolves around Doctor Who, does it not?
Here, for example, is an image of the new King and his Queen Consort accompanying two members of the Privy Council to receive The Order Of The Garter. Honi soit qui mal y pense.
Meanwhile, given all the changes to the Line Of Succession of late, does anyone know where The Dummy Princess Margaret now stands? This blogger is guessing she's no longer in the Top Twenty.
One of the things that many people have been complaining about was the fact that, in the wake of the Queen's death, not only was TV affected (certainly on the day and then, on several channels, for some days afterwards) but, also, sporting events were cancelled. Lots of them, often at very short notice. One curiosity was that the UK's football authorities took the decision to suspend all matches in England, Scotland, Northern Ireland and Wales on the Friday for the entire weekend, whilst, at the same time, the test match, various rugby games and Sunday's The Great North Run were all taking place. Leading to a strong feeling among many football supporters that, once again, their sport - The People's Game, remember - was being shafted (as it was when Diana died in 1997) whereas more, perceived, Middle Class sports suffered far less disruption. Is it really too strong a claim to make that the reason the football authorities acted so quickly was that they knew if they didn't they would be heavily criticised by the Daily Scum Mail and the Torygraph whilst the MCC and the rugby establishment would not be? That was something which even the Torygraph itself alluded to. You decide, dear blog reader. Of course, whilst several newspapers were claiming that the Queen's attendance at major sporting events was 'a thread that ran through her entire reign' that's more true of certain sports than others, usually those involving horse as the AP wrote. The Queen did attend the odd football match every now and then, most notably the 1966 World Cup Final. Ah, the Queen, the 'gleaming' Jules Rimet trophy and the late Bobby Moore (indelible image, isn't it, hmm?)
There is, however, a story told by Jimmy Tarbuck which may, or may not, be apocryphal that one year at The Royal Variety Performance Her Maj was asked, specifically, for her views on football. That particular event included an appearance by the late Tommy Cooper, whom the Queen was said to be a big fan of (which, if nothing else, proves that she had as much good taste in comedy as her son does). The protocol for the after-show meeting with royalty was then (and, one imagines, still is) that the Royal Personage would walk down the line meeting the performers, would offer her hand to be taken and that she may ask a question. The performers were all instructed to respond to the Queen if she acknowledged them (calling her 'maam' to rhyme with 'jam' rather than 'harm') but that, otherwise, they should keep their hands behind their backs and their mouths closed and only speak when or if they were spoken to. Tarby was, he claimed, standing next to Tommy; when the Queen reached the great comedy magician she is reported to have said 'oh Tommy, you were funny tonight.' Tommy thanked her and then, because he was someone for whom protocol was someone else's problem, broke it completely by saying 'can I you a question, maam?' The Queen said yes, of course and Tommy asked 'do you like football?' 'Not really' replied the Queen to which Tommy said 'in that case, can I have your ticket for the Cup Final!' Just, if you will, like that. Whether it's true or not is somewhat debatable.
The Queen, in fact, attended far less Cup Finals than is generally supposed, usually handing that onerous task off to one of the other, less important, royals. One of the few occasions that she did was in 1955, the sixth and (to date) last time that this blogger's beloved (and now, thankfully sold) Magpies won the trophy. Whether she jumped up, punched the air and shouted 'get in the bastard net' when Jackie Milburn scored for Th' Toon after forty five seconds - as all of Tyneside did - is, similarly, unknown. One imagines probably not. But if she did, that would be another example of her exquisite taste.
It has also been claimed that the Queen loved Twin Peaks so much that she once turned down a private performance by Paul McCartney (former member of The Be-Atles, a popular beat combo of the 1960s, you might've heard of them) to, instead, catch the latest episode of the David Lynch drama. Still, she knighted Macca a few years later to go with his MBE so, ultimately, he probably came out of the one on top. Following the death of Her Maj, an old interview resurfaced in which Twin Peaks composer Angelo Badalamenti recalled the incident. 'Back when Twin Peaks was kicking-off around the world, I flew by Concorde to London, to work with Paul McCartney at Abbey Road,' Badalamenti explained in an interview included on one of the Twin Peaks DVD box-sets. '[Paul] said, "I was asked by the Queen's office to perform thirty five minutes of my music to celebrate her birthday at Buckingham Palace. I'm very excited about it and here comes the night and I'm about to go on and the Queen kind of walks by me and says, "Oh Mister McCartney, it was just so lovely to see you tonight." And he says, "Well, your Highness, I am so delighted that you invited me to help celebrate your birthday and I'm now going to perform for you."' Badalamenti added: 'She said, "Oh Mister McCartney, I'm sorry, but I can't stay. You see, it's five minutes off eight, I must go upstairs and watch Twin Peaks."' Again, whether this is true or apocryphal is not known but it does, rather restore ones faith in the monarchy that Her Maj may have been, just like the rest of the country, desperate to find out who killed Laura Palmer. (It was her father, Leland, your majesty. He was a rotter.)
In addition, the Queen's favourite TV shows are also said to have included Pointless, The Kumars At Number Forty Two, Strictly Come Dancing, Antiques Roadshow and Downton Abbey. Other reports have claimed that she once asked for a Doctor Who box-set to be sent to Balmoral (of course she did, she was only human) and that she told the actor Peter Sallis she 'loved' Last Of The Summer Wine. Dad's Army was also, for many years, claimed to be the Queen's favourite comedy although the Duke Of Edinburgh once told Warren Mitchell that his wife was 'a great fan' of Till Death Us Do Part. A piece in the Metro (so, not a real newspaper, then), confirms a few of these and adds one or two more.
Speaking of Twin Peaks, those luscious, pouting people at ATB Publishing have just produced Outside In Walks With Fire: Fifty Five New Perspectives On Fifty Five Twin Peaks Stories by Fifty Five Writers a book that, no doubt, the late Queen would have loved to have on her bedside table at Balmoral. It is now available for purchase, from here. To quote from the back cover blurb, 'celebrating over thirty years of Twin Peaks, Outside In Walks With Fire is a collection of fifty five reviews, one for every story. Featuring contributions from David R George III, Joseph Bongiorno, Keith Topping, Rachel Stewart, Sam Watts, and fifty more!' Yes, dear blog reader, this blogger is, indeed, featured with his own (rather wordy) essay on The Stars Turn & A Time Presents Itself. He can't tell you what the other contributions are like as he is yet to receive his contributors copy across The Mighty Blue Ocean but, there will be a full From The North review just as soon as it arrives at The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House. One is sure that, had the publishers known the Queen was such a fan of the series they would have asked Her Maj to do a foreword (for a free copy, obviously). That, as they say, could be considered an opportunity missed.
Strictly Come Dancing will move from its original launch date as television schedules continue to change in the wake of the Queen's demise. The twentieth series of the BBC's popular light entertainment show was due to premiere on Saturday coming with a pre-recorded launch show, but that episode will now screen on Friday 23 September. The first live show will be on the following day. This years competition features ... lots of people you've never heard of. Strictly was not the only programme to be shuffled in the schedules. The final of Celebrity MasterChef will now be shown on Thursday 22 September, a week later than planned. Episodes of EastEnders are also premiering first on the BBC iPlayer, as its regular slot on BBC1 has been and remains 'subject to last-minute changes.' The BBC has also announced it will broadcast the first Paddington movie - which this blogger really enjoyed - on Saturday 17 September as 'a tribute to the Queen.' Paddington 2 - which this blogger also really enjoyed - will then be shown on Monday 19 September, following coverage of the Queen's funeral. Presumably to cheer everyone up on what is, after all, a public holiday. Other broadcasters have also had to adjust their schedules, with topical comedy programmes like The Last Leg put on pause for a week and filming on the Netflix series The Crown suspended, that dreaded phrase again, 'as a mark of respect.' However, Channel Four has confirmed that the latest series of The Great British Bake Off will return to the airwaves as planned on Tuesday night.
Two protesters who allegedly expressed 'republican sentiments' have reportedly been arrested at events proclaiming the accession of King Charles. (It is important to stress at this point that neither were arrested because they expressed republican sentiments, otherwise about a third of the country would be banged up with all the murderers and the rapists and the people who shoplift stuff from Lidl. Rather, they were arrested for 'a potential public order offence' Whatever that means.) The man said that he was arrested for shouting, 'Who elected him?' when the proclamation was read out in Oxford. An Anarcho-Syndicalist Commune? Just guessing.
Mind you, if TMZ is to be believed (and, they did get Jacko's death right atfer all), one guy was arrested for telling the truth. To the fury of libertarians everywhere. Getting all stroppy and discombobulated so they were. Still, it is nice to know that, apparently, being mildly rude about a minor member of royalty can be considered a crime in this country but, taking predatory sexual advantage of a teenage girl (allegedly) is not. That was, admittedly, a bit of an eye-opener.
McDonald's is to close all of its UK restaurants on Monday 19 September, 'as a mark of respect' to the Queen on the day of her funeral. Because, the Queen just loved a Big Mac once a week. The fast food chain, which has around thirteen hundred outlets in the UK, said they would all be shut until 5pm on the day. So, if you're looking for some McNuggets with a Barbecue Dip around lunchtime next Monday, dear blog reader, you're going to be out of luck. A bank holiday across the UK was approved by King Charles for the day of his mother's funeral. John Lewis, Waitrose, ASDA, Primark and a host of other businesses have already said they will be shut on Monday to mark the proceedings.
And now, dear blog reader, it's From The North review time. Featuring, this week, a double bill of House Of The Dragon - Second Of His Name and King Of The Narrow Sea: 'I came here to hunt, not to suffer any more of this fucking politicking!' So, stuff occurs. Lots of it. Paddy has an, if you will, total eclipse of the hart. Rhys schemes, broodily. Smudger takes on the entirety of The Fish People on his own. And wins. Captain Fish Face gets extremely deaded. Smudger becomes a King, gets a haircut and longs for a bit of slap and tickle wqith his niece. Milly Whatsherface spectacularly fails to get married to anyone, finds a secret passage, does a bit of cross-dressing and ends up in a knocking shop. As you do. Some sexy (non-incestuous) 'coupling' happens. Rhys snitches Milly Whatsherface up, big-style, to her dad. Paddy gets considerably irked. With everyone. Including the bloke what done the snitching. Plots continue apace. It all gets a bit complicated. Followed by Hands down and Tea's up. To sum up, then: It's still not quite gelling for this blogger yet despite the truly great performances being put in by most of the cast. The fourth episode, especially, was a case of far too much talking and not enough doing. But, as previously noted, it remains early days yet, they've got time to get proactive with the craziness.
And, speaking of yer man Smudger, there's a very good piece by Den Of Geek's Chris Farnell, Why Matt Smith & The Other Doctor Who Actors Make The Best On-Screen Baddies which you can find here, dear blog reader. And, which is well worth a few moments of your time.
Unlike this piece of rank, space-filling arse from someone of no importance at the Radio Times (which used to be run by adults). Let's put it this way, dear blog reader, if you actually need this article to tell you that Colin Baker's outfit was the worst of all the Doctors (as, indeed, was Colin Baker himself), you will probably have difficulty in reading it because you may not have reached the level of finger-painting yet.
That bastion of always truthful and accurate reportage, the Sun reports that the Queen lookalike who once 'starred' in Doctor Who is giving up her job after thirty four years 'out of respect' for the late Monarch. Mary Reynolds has been dressing as Her Majesty since 1988 but was first told she looked like the Royal when she was seventeen. Her 'starring' appearance in Doctor Who, incidentally, came in a quite literal 'blink-and-you'll-miss-it' walk-on part in 1989's Silver Nemesis, filmed in the grounds of Windsor Castle. Although she did quite a few publicity shots for the episode, admittedly.
Still the world waits, anxiously, to find out whether Netflix have confirmed a second series of The Sandman or bailed out due to the huge cost of the show. A piece in TV Line is entitled The Sandman Tops Nielsen Streaming Chart As It Awaits Word On Renewal but doesn't tell readers anything that they didn't already know. Listen, guys, either it'll happen or it won't, there's no use getting all stroppy and discombobulated about it. We managed to wait thirty years for eleven episodes, we can probably afford to wait a little longer to find out if there are going to be any more.
Meanwhile this week's 'something in the middle of this is likely to be the truth' compare and contrast articles on The Sandman include one from Kayla Cotter of Thirty Fourth Street (no, me neither) who, like that wanker at the Wired mentioned in a recent bloggerisationism update chides the series for being too faithful to the source material. And, also, Joe Sutliff at The Conversation who loved the series but reckoned it wasn't faithful enough to the source material. Come on, you two, work it out between you. It's either one or the other but it can't be both. This blogger, incidentally, though it was great. He's mentioned that a few times previously, yes?
There's a really fine piece at one of this blogger's favourite websites, the always excellent We Are Cult on the recent DVD release of one of this blogger's favourite Telefatnasy dramas as a youngling, The Owl Service. Check it out, here.
And, whilst you're there, you're probably also going to want to have a right good gander at Groovy F❉ckers: Forty Years Of The Tube. Filmed less than a mile from The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House, as it happens. True story.
And, just to confirm dear blog reader that this blogger was, indeed, joshing and that The Power Of The Doctor definitely hasn't been extremely cancelled because of the Queen. Not yet, anyway. The establishment have, therefore, until 23 October to find another reason to call the whole thing off. Give it your best shot, guys.
The revelation that yer actual Keith Telly Topping was being rather naughty with his fake news-type cancellation claim on Facebook was, obviously a huge relief to everyone that thought such an occurrence was even a vague possibility. All one of them.
Meanwhile, in completely unrelated news, a brand new line-up for The Supremes has been unveiled. Skill.
The BBC has confirmed that the much-anticipated drama serial Inside Man will launch on Monday 26 September with the second episode being shown the following evening. National heartthrob David Tennant plays a vicar in the four-part series created and written by The Lord Thy God Steven Moffat (OBE), with a star-studded cast that also includes Stanley Tucci, Lydia West and Dolly Wells.
The final three examples of From The North's bafflingly popular on-going series Memorably Daft Lines From British Horror Movies Of The 1970s all, for vastly different reasons, loom large in Keith Telly Topping's legend. Starting with Memorably Daft Lines From British Horror Movies Of, Ahem, 1999: Number Ninety Nine (see, this blogger doesn't just throw these things together, you know?): Marc Pickering: 'Is he dead?' Johnny Depp: 'That's the problem. He was dead to begin with.' Sleepy Hollow. Without any shadow of a doubt - with the possible exception of Carry On Screaming - the greatest Hammer movie that Hammer never made! Tim Burton's homage to the films he (and this blogger) loved so much as a child. And, included here for stylistic rather than chronological reasons and, well, because Keith Telly Topping thought it was great.
Memorably Daft Lines From British Horror Movies Of The 1970s (Or, In This Case, The Late 1960s): Number One Hundred: Christopher Lee: 'There is a girl.' Barbara Ewing: 'What girl?' Christopher Lee: 'The niece of the Monsignor.' Barbara Ewing: 'Maria?' Christopher Lee: 'Bring her to me.' Barbara Ewing: 'But what do you want her for? You've got me!' Dracula Has Risen From The Grave.
As mentioned in A Vault Of Horror, this was the first horror movie that Keith Telly Topping ever saw, as a twelve year old youngling late one Friday night on Tyne-Tees in their Appointment With Fear strand. And, as a consequence, it is one that still, to this day, looms large in his legend. (Also, let us, please, have a major round of applause for Ms Ewing's heaving bosoms. Just the sort of thing to give yer average twelve year old The Horn and warp him for life with notions ensuring that he will, undoubtedly, come to a bad end. Certainly has with this blogger and no mistake.)
And, lastly, Memorably Daft Lines From British Horror Movies Of, The 1970s: Number One Hundred & One: Britt Ekland: 'I must say, you are a gallant fellow, Sergeant.' Edward Woodward: 'It's nothing personal. Just that I don't believe in it ... before marriage.' Britt Ekland: 'Suit yourself.' The Wicker Man. Well, if you're going to do a series mainly concerned with any aspect of British horror movies of the 1970s, you might as well finish with the best one.
And so we reach the end of a long and winding road, well-travelled and say goodbye to all of the nudity, violence and sadomasochism inherent therein. Next, we shall be starting a new semi-regular on-going feature. The nature of which will, this blogger is sure, be having many of you asking 'what is it good for?'
So, dear blog fiends, a new on-going From The North series. Memorably Daft Lines from Blockbuster War & Espionage Movies of the 1960s and 70s: Number One: Patrick McGoohan: 'The Russians put our camera made by our German scientists and your film made by your German scientists into their satellite. Made by their German scientists!' Ice Station Zebra. Greatest! Daft! Line! Ever! And, one of this blogger's favourite movies precisely because of its sheer epic daftness. (This blogger's father, conversely, always preferred Alistair MacLean's novel. Because the ending was subtly different. This blogger subsequently read the novel, but he still preferred the movie. A child of a different age, y'see.)
Of course, as this blogger's excellent fiend Nick noted it is a (memorably) daft line, 'but it [also] highlights how daft things were in the early years of the Cold War.' This blogger noted that via Operation Paperclip (and the Soviet equivalent) it was, indeed, a fairly accurate statement about a world gone really daft. 'Ah, SS-Sturmbannführer Von Braun. We have need of many intercontinental ballistic missiles and we've heard you're just the chap to talk to after the state you left London in. Don't worry about the British, we'll deal with them.'
Memorably Daft Lines from Blockbuster War & Espionage Movies of the 1960s and 70s: Number Two: Richard Burton: 'No mistake, Lieutenant. This the headquarters of the Wehrmacht Alpenkorps.' Clint Eastwood: 'Oh, swell. Do you have any other surprises I should know about?' Where Eagles Dare. In which we learn that the main reason the Damned Nazis didn't win the war was because the useless fascist sods couldn't shoot a barn door at ten feet, let alone Clint and Dick.
As a fiend of this blogger once pointed out one of the most ironic things about Where Eagles Dare is that the three main Nazi villains in the movie were all the sort of people that the Nazis themselves would have, in all likelihood, stuck in camps; Derren Nesbitt (Jewish), Ferdy Mayne (Jewish) and Anton Diffring (gay).
Memorably Daft Lines from Blockbuster War & Espionage Movies of the 1960s and 70s: Number Three: Romy Schneider: 'Facing fourteen years further imprisonment? That interests me. For what we have in mind, I think he has possibilities.' Christopher Plummer: 'And, for what I have in mind, you have possibilities...' Triple Cross. A rather underrated little corker, this one.
Memorably Daft Lines from Blockbuster War & Espionage Movies of the 1960s and 70s: Number Four: Frank Sinatra: 'Lieutenant, if he wiggles, put a hole in him!' Von Ryan's Express.
Of course, every time this blogger watches this, yer man Frankie seems to get closer and closer to that train at the end. One day he's going to catch it, Keith Telly Topping is certain ...
Also, it's a movie which features three actors who had at least one UK top ten hit; first there's Frank his very self, obviously and Johnny Remember Me Leyton is the second. But, who's the third? If you said Eurovision's very own Raffaella Carrà, dear blog reader, congratulations. Award yourselves a pat on the back and then, ahem, do it, do it again. Look, this blogger apologises, but he's working with limited material here.
Memorably Daft Lines from Blockbuster War & Espionage Movies of the 1960s and 70s: Number Five: Donald Sutherland: 'Has it occurred to you that piece of paper you keep waving about could just be a clever forgery?' Michael Caine: 'Why don't you fly to Berchestgarden and ask him yourself?' Donald Sutherland: 'Oh, let's not bother the man!' The Eagle Has Landed.
Memorably Daft Lines from Blockbuster War & Espionage Movies of the 1960s and 70s: Number Six: Wolfgang Preiss: 'For you, ze var ist over!' Oliver Reed: 'Oh, thank God for that!' Not only one of the best movies that Oliver Reed was ever in but one of the best movies that Oliver Reed was ever in directed by Michael Winner!
The above line, incidentally, narrowly beats another of Ollie's classics in Hannibal Brooks, his impression of Michael J Pollard's guerilla character 'you can't kill me, cos I'm a tank!' and also the entire running 'what do you call an elephant in English?', 'Ah, we are here' gag.
Memorably Daft Lines from Blockbuster War & Espionage Movies of the 1960s and 70s: Number Seven: Donald Pleasence: 'Tea without milk is so uncivilised!' The Great Escape.
See, here's the thing, dear blog reader - it was all that bloody idiot Nigel Stock's fault, tripping over his own feet like that. If only they'd left that daft plank back in the camp, William Russell would've got out, Steve McQueen could've easily jumped his bike over that barbed-wire fence to Switzerland, Jim Rockford would've flown the plane (and Don) to safety and Dickie, Gordon Jackson, David McCallum and the rest wouldn't have been caught by the Gestapo and shot. You've got a lot to answer for, Stock!
Which brings us, of course, to this ...
Maniac (Michael Carreras, 1963). One from the latest from The Cellar Club. Careful with that blowtorch, bonny lad, you could have someone's eye out with that thing.
Echo Of Diana (Ernest Morris, 1963).
The Man Who Was Nobody (Montgomery Tully, 1960). One of the earlier of the Edgar Wallace Mysteries features which included a whole plethora of From The North favourites (Hazel Court, Paul Eddington, Kevin Stoney and Lisa Daniely to mention but four).
The Silent Enemy (William Fairchild, 1958).
Danger By My Side (Charles Saunders, 1963).
Night Was Our Friend (Michael Anderson, 1951). A particularly fine deranged performance by From The North favourite Michael Gough in this one.
Beyond The Curtain (Compton Bennett, 1960). A rather good little Cold War thriller set in East Berlin and with Eva Bartok in one of her best roles.
Crosstrap (Robert Hartford-Davis, 1962). A long-time From The North favourite, Hartford-Davis's directorial debut, starring Laurence Payne and Jill Adams. Unusually graphic for its time in its on-screen depiction of violence, one contemporary reviewer describing a 'climactic blood-bath where corpses bite the dust as freely as Indians in a John Ford Western.'
The Party's Over (Guy Hamilton, 1965). Filmed in 1963, it was censored in the UK over scenes of implied necrophilia, which delayed its release for two years. John Trevelyan, the Secretary of BBFC, called it 'unpleasant, tasteless and rather offensive.' It's actually none of those things though it does feature a rather stuffy, Middle Aged, Middle Class view of contemporary youth culture (and one that was, actually, five years behind the times anyway featuring, as it does, a group of 'beatniks').
Shadow Of A Man (Michael McCarthy, 1955).
Stop Press Girl (Michael Barry, 1949). A rather smart comedy with SF overtones featuring Sally Anne Howes and with early roles for the likes of Gordon Jackson, Kenneth More and Julia Lang.
And so, with the terrible inevitability of the terribly inevitable, we come to that part of From The North wholly dedicated to this blogger's on-going medical skulduggery. For those dear blog readers who haven't been following this on-going fiasco which appears to have been on-going longer than the reign of the late Queen, it goes like this: Keith Telly Topping spent some weeks around Christmas and New Year feeling rotten; experienced five days in hospital; was discharged; received B12 injections; then more injections; somewhat recovered his missing appetite; got a diagnosis; had a consultant's meeting; continued to suffer fatigue and insomnia; endured a second endoscopy; had another consultation; got (unrelated) toothache; had an extraction; which took ages to heal; had another consultation; spent a week where nothing remotely health-related occurred; was given further - painful - B-12 injections; had an echocardiogram; received more blood extractions; did another hospital visit; saw the insomnia and torpor continue; returned to the hospital for more blood-letting; had a rearranged appointment to get his latest sick note from his doctor; suffered probably his worst period yet in terms of the fatigue. Until the following week. The fatigue. The depressing fatigue. The never-ending fatigue.
The second of this blogger's medical appointments last week - following the visit to the hospital's blood-letting machine mentioned in the most recent From The North update - was on Friday with the always lovely and cheerful Doctor Nasir. Who gave this blogger a further 'Keith Telly Topping remains not very well' note covering the next two months.
We chatted - as men do - about, you know, stuff. The fatigue, mainly. And, the insomnia and occasional bouts of irritation and forgetfulness that this blogger has been prone to of late. Doctor Nasir was sympathetic and, overall, not too worried. 'Anaemia is something that can take a long time to fully overcome,' he said. And, he suggested a couple of things which may help with the insomnia which were practical and which this blogger intends to try at his earliest convenience. Keith Telly Topping stopped off at ALDI on the way home for a few essential supplies (including netty roll) and then got caught in an almighty sodden downpour whilst getting from the bus stop back to The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House. So, he told his Facebook fiends upon his arrival at the gaff, 'if anybody wants me I'll be spending the rest of the day drying off.'
And now, a new, hopefully extremely semi-regular From The North feature, Keith Telly Topping Is Furious. Part Une and Deux. On Monday, for the second time in two days, this blogger was required to travel halfway across Newcastle for an appointment which was missed (in the case of Sunday) and cancelled (on the second occasion). The one on Sunday was no one's fault and was simply down to transport chaos and this blogger got over his general tetchiness pretty quickly (a nice takeaway picked up on the way back to The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House helped, admittedly). Monday's malarkey was caused by some utter numbskull arranging an appointment, then cancelling it but neglecting to actually tell this blogger that he had done so. This blogger was, needless to say, extremely vexed. Pure dead cross, so he was. Really irked and in a damned sorry fettle and a right paddy. Shuffling around The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House shouting 'Damn! Bugger! Blast!' at the top of his, not-inconsiderable, voice. Keith Telly Topping, dear blog reader, had his mad right up. Et cetera.
Asking the public to name things is, usually, a truly terrible idea. Just ask any sailor who nearly served on the good ship Boaty McBoatface. But here we are again after an unofficial Twitter account appealed to the Internet to name a probe which will shortly explore, of course, Uranus. The Uranus Orbiter and Probe is a project which NASA hopes will be launched in the early 2030s. The mission would spend several years orbiting Uranus and its rings and moons, possibly sending a probe down through its atmosphere to the Ice Giant's surface (if, indeed, it has one). It could tell us a lot about the make-up of the planet, which is why such an important mission's name should not be left to the public. However, the Ice Giant Missions Twitter account asked its followers what the mission should be called. Bad move.
With an official-looking poster image, a number of people took the question to mean that NASA itself was asking the question, but no trace of such a scheme is to be found on any official NASA sites and given the mission is not yet greenlit, it is unlikely that they would ask people to come up with the inevitable bottom jokes just yet. Some of the publishable name suggestions received have been shared by Ice Giant Missions. To be scrupulously fair, some of them were quite creative and made good use of NASA's love of acronyms (or, if you will, backronyms): A.N.U.S (Advanced New Uranus Space mission), for example. Also R.E.C.T.U.M (Research Education Charging Towards Uranus Mission).
Thankfully for the poor Uranus probe just begging to be taken seriously, there were actual suggestions that are more befitting of the Uranus explorer. Including Odin, the Norse god that led Asgard to defeat the Frost Giants and Boreas, the Greek god of the North wind and bringer of winter. If you really want to name an official space object something silly, you can enter to name one of the exoplanets that JWST will explore this year. One simply can't wait to meet Exoplanet McExoplanetface. Some of the more obvious names to appear included: Operation Butt Plug, Pegassus [sic] and Suppository. Proby McProbeface, of course, also made an appearance on the list.
Northern Irish schoolboy Christopher Atherton became the youngest senior footballer in the United Kingdom at thirteen years and three hundred and twenty nine days old when he played for Glenavon on Tuesday. The teenage forward came on as a second-half substitute in their six-nil win over Dollingstown in the League Cup. And he made a quick impact, providing an assist for Glenavon's sixth goal. Christopher breaks the record set by Jordan Allan, who played for Airdrie aged fourteen years and one hundred and ninety one days against Livingston in April 2013. After making his debut, Christopher missed out on becoming the youngest senior player in the world by just ten days. The record is currently held by Souleymane Mamam, who played for Togo in a World Cup qualifier against Zambia in May 2001 at thirteen years and three hundred and nineteen days.
George Lazenby has grovellingly apologised after being accused of making 'creepy' and 'disgusting' comments in an on-stage interview. The actor, who played 007 in the 1969 film On Her Majesty's Secret Service (you knew that, right?), was appearing as part of an Australian tour called The Music Of James Bond. Audience members in Perth took offence at what they described as 'homophobic' comments and 'explicit' anecdotes. Lazenby said he was 'saddened to hear' that his stories had offended fans. 'It was never my intention to make hurtful or homophobic comments and I am truly sorry if my stories that I have shared many times were taken that way,' he wrote in a statement. The eighty three-year-old actor has been removed from all future performances on the tour.
This week's nominees for the From The North Headline Of The Week award include the Metro (so, not a real newspaper) and their Iceland Back In Court With Iceland Over Use Of The Name Iceland. 'Iceland the British supermarket has taken Iceland the country to court again. Iceland Foods, founded in 1970, has fought for years to trademark the name of the Nordic island first settled by humans in 874.' This blogger's money's on the country, frankly. Not only do they have an eleven hundred year claim on the name but they've also got, you know, an army. With guns and everything.
Then there's this from the Brisbane Courier Mail. They just do things on a bigger scale, down under, don't you think?
The good old reliably daft Plymouth Herald has another strong entry with 'Aggressive' Sheep Barges Into Airbnb Bedroom Before Leaving 'Present' For Friends In Town For Wedding.
The Facebook page for the Lythmn St Ann's News alleges: 'A dismayed Lytham local on Warton Street had a rude awakening this morning to discover human excrement in his sandal.' They also have a picture. We are not running it. The local exclusively told Lytham St Annes News 'I believe this has been done on purpose as my son is in the middle of a feud with his classmates at St Bedes.' The police say they have nothing to go on. And, it's a well known fact that you can't dust for faeces.
And, on a somewhat related theme, from the Express & Star, there's Dudley Residents Plagued By 'Thick Green Slime' From Twenty Five-Year-Old Leak. One would have thought someone would have cleaned it up by now.
Sometimes, let it be noted, even the best of intentions can have decidedly unexpected consequences.
And finally, dear blog reader, what do you reckon? This blogger thinks she's definitely faking it.
