The head of the TV archive Kaleidoscope has suggested that missing episodes of Doctor Who are 'known' to still exist, but remain in private collections. Out of two hundred and fifty three episodes from the show's first six series (1963 to 1969), ninety seven remain missing from the BBC archives in their original form, due to the BBC's policy of junking archive programming between 1967 and 1978 (you knew all that, right? And, if you didn't, then you must be new to this very blog because we've covered this subject before. Several times. Many many times). Speaking to Radio Times (if not anyone slightly more reliable), Chris Perry - the CEO of the TV archive Kaleidoscope, whom this blogger knew back in the day and has always regarded as a very knowledgeable chap - said that it is 'very likely' more lost episodes will be recovered in the future. 'We know there is missing Doctor Who out there but the owners won't return it at the moment,' he revealed. 'Every year we find fifty to seventy lost programmes, some famous titles and internationally known names and others not, but significant examples of regional television output, for example.' Kaleidoscope was founded in 1987 and since 1995 has worked in partnership with the BFI on its Missing Believed Wiped initiative to recover, restore and return British television to the archives. And more power to their elbow for the excellent work they do.
Russell Davies has warned Doctor Who fans they 'won't be laughing' at a pivotal moment in the third of this year's Doctor Who sixtieth anniversary episodes. They once laughed at this blogger when he suggested he wanted to be a stand-up comedian when he grew up. Well, they're not laughing now. Anyway, the BBC's popular, long-running family SF drama revealed (via Instagram) that the final episode in the three-parter is titled The Giggle, with a short trailer showing David Tennant's Doctor expressing his disgust at a formidable new villain. 'He's here. Driving you mad. Laughing at the human race,' says The Doctor, seemingly referring to Neil Patrick Harris's as-yet-unidentified villain (but we all know he's going to be The Celestial Toymaker, really). Despite its title, Davies wrote in the comments section, assuring fans that the episode won't simply be a barrel of laughs, adding: 'Oh you won't be laughing when ...', followed by a sad-faced emoji. And, all of this was reported by the Radio Times (which used to be run by adults).
Are you the person in your family, dear blog reader, who gets text messages from your nephew asking you to ring your brother and, when you do, perhaps expecting bad news (even if the text did include a smiley-face emoji) it is simply so that they can 'la-la-la' a tune to you down the phone and ask you to identify it? To satisfy a bet, or something. This blogger only asks this because, in his family, Keith Telly Topping is that very man. Incidentally, the la-la-la'd tune in question was this as it happens. And this blogger recognised and identified it without even pausing to think. God, dear blog reader, Keith Telly Topping is good!
As it happens identifying this particular John Barry tune had long been the subject of a, seemingly impossible, quest for this blogger during the 1980s and 1990s. This blogger knew the tune, well, from the Australian Broadcast Corporation's highlights programmes of The Ashes from the 1970s which used to get shown on BBC2 late at night in Britain. For years this blogger tried to find out what this tune was; Keith Telly Topping wrote to the BBC asking if they could identify it (they were nice enough to reply but were, ultimately, no help since it wasn't their programme); this blogger wrote to ABC (airmail) and, sadly, didn't even get a reply from them; he tried a couple of cricket message boards during the early days of his Interweb usage in the mid-1990s (several people tried to convince this blogger that he was thinking of 'Soul Limbo' by Booker T & The MGs. Barely keeping his temper in check, this blogger replied - several times - 'no! That's Test Match Special here in the UK, this is the Australian version!'); this blogger even wrote to couple of relatives in Australia but no one knew or could provide a convincing argument for what it might be. Keith Telly Topping had even started to believe that it might have been a piece of original music. Perhaps made up by some guy in the Aussie equivalent of the Radiophonics Workshop in a basement studio in Sydney with a minimoog and a budget of four pee. And, that in such circumstances, it almost certainly had never been commercially released. Then, one night in the late 1990s, this blogger was watching a TV showing of Midnight Cowboy (a film which this blogger was already quite familiar with having seen it several times, so Christ only knows how it hadn't registered previously). And, suddenly, during the scene in which Ratso Rizzo imagines a fantasy of himself and Joe Buck living the high-life in Flordia surrounded by women they can sponge from, this blogger realised 'Ohmigod, that's it!' That what he now knew was called 'Florida Fantasy' was, in fact, something written and recorded by one of Keith Telly Topping's musical heroes on a million-selling soundtrack LP that had won a sodding Grammy! Oooo, this blogger was pure vexed (but, also, happy to have finally got a long-running monkey off his back).
The fact that this blogger subsequently discovered the same music had been used as the theme tune for the long-running BBC teatime wildlife programme Wildtrack was an additional reason for wax to explode in this blogger's ears. His only excuse for not recalling this being that it was broadcast at a time when this blogger would've been out at work earning his living at the Department of Employment. Tony Soper, where were you when this blogger needed you?
As long-term dear blog readers will be aware, via Keith Telly Topping's essays on British post-war B-movies, The Corpse, The Yellow Teddy Bears, Saturday Night Out and The Black Torment, The Pleasure Girls, Hell Is A City, Cup Fever, Face Of A Stranger and Yield To The Night, Hell Drivers, The Day The Earth Caught Fire and Game For Three Losers, Hammer Films, Blood Of The Vampire and Good-Time Girl, Beat Girl, The Earth Dies Screaming, Radio-Cab Murder, Seven Days Till Noon, Murder In Reverse, The Gelignite Gang and Dead Man's Chest, Danger By My Side, Night Of The Prowler, Impact, Smokescreen, Girl In The Headlines and The Narrowing Circle and Local Hero, From The North has sometimes seemed more like a film blog which, sometimes, discusses TV. Rather than the other way around which is, in theory, this blog's raison d'être. Mai oui. C'est la vie, chers lecteurs du blog. And, there still seems no reason to stop such movie-related malarkey any time soon.
Anyway, dear blog reader, on Wednesday of last week, this blogger joined his fiend, Young Malcolm, in attending the local, in administration but still open for business, CineWorld there to watch a film of our choice. And, you'd better believe him when this blogger says it was certainly a blast.
You may have noticed that the reviews of Oppenheimer have, largely, been of the ecstatic-verging-on-'oh-I've-just-cum' variety. Cos, you know, this is Christopher Nolan we're talking about and he's a bit good, that lad. Take for instance this. And this. And this. And this. And this. And this (from a chap who, actually, knows what he's talking about when it comes to quantum physics!) Although, of course, inevitably there's always some cheb-end smear who has to be different. Do you want a medal, mate?
The plot (and, do try to keep up because this goes on for a long time. As, indeed, does the film). In 1926, twenty two-year-old J Robert Oppenheimer (From The North favourite Cillian Murphy) suffers from homesickness and anxiety while studying under experimental physicist Patrick Blackett (James D'Arcy) at Cambridge. Upset with Blackett once too often, Oppenheimer retaliates by leaving him a poisoned apple, then narrowly prevents his hero, Niels Bohr (From The North favourite Kenneth Branagh) from eating it. Oppenheimer completes his PhD in Germany and, later, meets theoretical physicist Werner Heisenberg (Matthias Schweighöfer). Who, surprisingly, appears a lot more certain about life than history has thus far suggested. Oppenheimer returns to America, hoping to expand quantum physics research and begins teaching at Berkeley, forming a friendship with nuclear physicist Ernest Lawrence (Josh Hartnell) and gaining his own first disciple, Giovanni Lomanitz (Josh Zuckerman). He meets his future wife, Kitty (Emily Blunt), a biologist and ex-Communist and also has an intermittent affair with Jean Tatlock (From The North favourite Florence Pugh whose extremely nice tits utterly dominate the scenes in which they feature), a member of the Communist Party, until her - somewhat suspicious - suicide a few years later.
In 1942, with World War II in horribly full-swing, Colonel Leslie Groves (a terrific Matt Damon) recruits Oppenheimer to lead The Manhattan Project, America's newly-formed effort to develop an atomic bomb after Oppenheimer gives Groves assurances that he no longer has any Communist sympathies. Oppenheimer, who is Jewish, is particularly driven by the Nazis' potentially completing their nuclear weapons programme (headed by Heisenberg) first. Oppenheimer assembles a crack team including Edward Teller (Benny Safdle), Isidor Isaac Rabi (David Krumholtz) and Vannevar Bush (Matthew Modine) in Los Alamos, New Mexico to secretly create the bomb. Oppenheimer also collaborates with the scientists Enrico Fermi (Danny Deferrari), Kenneth Bainbridge (Josh Peck), David L Hill (Remi Malik), Lilli Hornig (Olivia Thirlby) and Richard Feynman (Jack Quaid) among many others - including, much to his later discomfort, even though Oppenheimer wasn't responsible for picking him - Klaus Fuchs (Christopher Denham). Oppenheimer and Albert Einstein (From The North favourite Tom Conti) discuss how an atomic bomb risks triggering an unstoppable chain-reaction which could, potentially, set fire to the atmosphere and destroy the world.
After Germany surrenders, several project scientists question the bomb's continued importance, though Oppenheimer agrees with the Secretary of War, Henry Stimson (James Remer) and stresses that dropping the bomb will hasten the end of the war in the Pacific and, actually, save lives. The Trinity test is successfully conducted and President Truman From The North favourite Gary Oldman) orders that Hiroshima and Nagasaki be bombed (a lot), forcing Japan's surrender. Oppenheimer is thrust into the public eye as 'the father of the atomic bomb' and becomes something of a celebrity in the immediate post-war years, but the immense destruction and massive fatalities haunt him. Feeling that he has blood on his hands, he urges Truman to restrict further nuclear weapon development, but the president coldly rejects Oppenheimer's advice, considering it 'cry-baby' weakness. As an advisor to the US Atomic Energy Commission, Oppenheimer advocates against further nuclear research, especially against the development of the even more powerful hydrogen bomb proposed by Teller. His stance becomes a point of contention amid the tension of the developing Cold War. AEC Chairman Lewis Strauss (From The North favourite Robert Downey Jnr) resents Oppenheimer for publicly dismissing his concerns regarding the export of radioisotopes and for recommending arms reduction talks with the Soviet Union. He also believes that Oppenheimer turned Einstein against him.
At a hearing intended to eliminate his political influence, Oppenheimer is betrayed by Teller and other colleagues. Strauss - without getting his own hands dirty and aided by the likes of Boris Pash (Casey Afleck), Kenneth Nichols (Dane DeHaan) and, especially, hearsay evidence given by William Borden (David Dastmalchian) - exploits Oppenheimer's associations with Communists such as Tatlock, his friend Haakon Chevalier (Jefferson Hall) and Oppenheimer's own brother, Frank (Dylan Arnold). And, the discovery that Fuchs was a Soviet spy is also used against him. The persecuting counsel, Roger Robb (Jason Clarke) gives Oppenheimer a vicious cross-examination (though, curiously, when he tries to also implicate Kitty, she makes mincemeat of him). Despite Rabi and several other scientific allies testifying in Oppenheimer's defence, Oppenheimer's security clearance is, ultimately, revoked damaging his public image and neutralising his influence on nuclear policy. During his hearing, Oppenheimer had testified on the left-wing activities of some of his colleagues. Had his clearance not been stripped, it has been suggested that he may have been remembered as someone who 'named names' to save his own reputation. But as it happened, most in the scientific community saw him as a martyr to McCarthyism, an eclectic liberal unjustly attacked by warmongering enemies and symbolic of the shift of scientific work from academia into the military. Wernher Von Braun, for instance, told a Congressional committee: 'In England, Oppenheimer would have been knighted.' Mind you, in England, Von Braun himself would have been hanged as a war criminal. So, you know, swings and roundabouts, innit?
Four years later, Strauss has a Senate confirmation hearing after being President Eisenhower's nominee for Secretary of Commerce. Several Democrat members - including Gale McGee (From The North favourite Harry Groener) and John Pastore (Tim DeKay) - grill Strauss on his role in Oppenheimer's treatment. Hill testifies about Strauss's personal agenda in engineering Oppenheimer's downfall and the US Senate votes against Strauss's nomination by three votes (one of them being then Senator John Kennedy). In 1963, President Johnson presents Oppenheimer with the Enrico Fermi Award as a public gesture of political rehabilitation. Teller, a previous recipient, had suggested Oppenheimer for the award and Oppenheimer appears to bear no ill-will towards his previous adversary (although Kitty remains visibly hostile). It is suggested that Oppenheimer and Einstein's earlier conversation was not regarding Strauss at all but, rather, something far more important; the far-reaching implications of nuclear weapons. Oppenheimer says that he believes he has started a chain reaction which will, ultimately, destroy the world.
Three hours long (as usual, this blogger's bum went horribly numb after the first ninety minutes) and featuring a complex, non-linear juggling of a story around about four or five different time frames, Oppenheimer is a critical summation of Christopher Nolan's approach to movie-making. It is, for the most part, historically accurate and the few inaccuracies which have been suggested are, mostly, down to the source material - Kai Bird and Martin Sherwin's American Prometheus: The Triumph & Tragedy of J Robert Oppenheimer. Oppenheimer's grandson, Charles, said he had enjoyed the film but did have a problem with the apple poisoning subplot (although he absolved Nolan of blame, noting that this came from the source biography). Oppenheimer himself did describe the incident with Blackett's apple on a couple of occasions later in life, though it is unclear whether aspects of the poisoning story may have been exaggerated. The other point that has been picked up on by some eagle-eyed viewers is that in what is, perhaps, one of the movie's best scenes - Oppenheimer addressing his fellow scientists in the aftermath of Hiroshima and feeling the first stirrings of his horror at, as he later said, becoming 'death, the destroyer of worlds' - the flags on display have fifty stars rather than forty eight as they would have had in 1945. It's a tiny sidebar to a great movie but, as Abe Simpson once noted, 'I'll be deep in the cold, cold ground before I recognise Missouri!'
For this blogger, the only slight problem he had - and, again, it's a small, aesthetic thing - is that if you ever see a photograph of the real-life Oppenheimer and the real-life Leslie Groves, you'll note that Groves is about six inches the taller of the two men. Matt Damon is many things and his Groves is one of the best thing about the movie, but tall, isn't one of them! As this blogger's fiend and fellow movie-goer Young Malcolm noted, if this film had been made in the 1950s, that part would've been played by a really tall actor like John Wayne or Robert Mitchum whilst, in all likelihood, Oppenheimer would've been a role made for Jimmy Stewart. In an alternate universe somewhere, John Ford or Anthony Mann directed it and it won about eight Oscars in 1957. Interestingly, of course, approximately the same story has previously been told on a couple of occasions, notably in the BBC's fine seven-part 1980 series Oppenheimer (starring Sam Waterston, David Suchet and Edward Hardwicke) which the BBC, rather opportunistically, though not unwelcomely, have just stuck up on iPlayer so those who enjoyed the film can check that out too. And, also, in Roland Joffe's 1989 film Fat Man & Little Boy (released in the UK as Shadow Makers), starring Paul Newman as Groves and Dwight Schultz as Oppenheimer. Neither are as good as Oppenheimer but both are more than decent and well worth a visit if you get the chance.
Cillian Murphy is, of course, superb in the title role and has an Oscar nomination, surely, his for the taking. In an outstanding ensemble cast, the other standout performance is Downey Jnr who spends the first two thirds of the film portraying Strauss as rather misunderstood; if not a wholly sympathetic man then certainly no cartoon black and white villain. However, he's shown to be an unreliable narrator of his own story and, in the movie's final act, frankly, he deserves everything he gets.
Costing one hundred million dollars to make, it was widely reported - in view of the recent catastrophic financial failure of the fifth Indiana Jones movie - that Oppenheimer was considered to be a risk and that it would need to take somewhere in the region of four hundred million bucks to break even. As at the time of writing, it is already past that figure after a mere three weeks of release and is well on the way to making a shitload more. It and Barbie - released on the same day - have, not to put too fine a point of it, 'saved cinema' (the jury is still out on whether another blockbuster, Mission: Impossible - Dead Reckoning Part One will also make a big enough profit to fully justify its existence). Described as 'a towering achievement' by the Gruniad Morning Star and 'the best film of the century so far' by Paul Schrader, Oppenheimer hasn't been to everyone's tastes; take this prick of no importance at Forbes, for example. All you really need to know is this blogger thought it was great. Here endeth the lesson.
So dear blog reader, is it completely bloody illogical to say that this blogger really enjoyed the Strange New Worlds musical episode - Subspace Rhapsody - except for the music? Not the singing, that was very good (and, there was even a reasonably coherent rationale behind the episode's existence which this blogger wasn't sure whether to expect or not). No, rather it was swelling strings of massive orchestration which accompanied all the songs that quickly got right on this blogger's tit-end! They really missed a trick by, when the entire bridge was bursting into song, not having the lift doors open to reveal a string octet in there playing away! That would've been funny. This blogger simply couldn't get past the stumbling block of 'where's that music coming from? I know where the singing's coming from but shouldn't it be acapella unless there's a small orchestra somewhere in Engineering?' But, that apart, this blogger enjoyed the episode greatly and Keith Telly Topping is glad that the episode seems to have gone down so well in terms of the reviews. And, that it's annoyed a number of very serious strokey-beard fandom types who probably deserve a bit of annoying every so often. This blogger specifically loved the Once More With Feeling allusions (about as subtle as a flying brick, admittedly, but still funny). Given Big Rusty's freely acknowledged love of musical theatre, this blogger is pretty willing to place a tenner at Ladbrokes now that we'll get a Doctor Who musical episode with the next couple of series. It's gonna happen, dear blog reader. Plus, 'no one needs signing Klingons' might, just, be this blogger's favourite Star Trek line ever.
'Do Jasper Carrott want to play Scunthorpe Baths?' 'They might. How much?' 'Oi, Carrott, d'you wanna play Scunthorpe Baths for three hundred quid?' 'I'll drink Scunthorpe Baths for three hundred quid!'
Memorably Daft Lines From British Horror & SF Movies Of The 1950s and 1960s. Number Fifteen: Dracula. Peter Cushing: I'm sorry, Mister Holmwood, but I really cannot tell you anything more about how he died.' Michael Gough: 'Cannot or will not?' Peter Cushing: 'Whichever you wish.'
Memorably Daft Lines From British Horror & SF Movies Of The 1950s and 1960s. Number Sixteen: Captain Clegg. Patrick Allen: 'How did he die, man?' Michael Ripper: 'Doctor Pepper signed the certificate Natural Causes. But, I should have thought from the look of the poor fellow, he died for fright!'
Memorably Daft Lines From British Horror & SF Movies Of The 1950s and 1960s. Number Seventeen: The Day The Earth Caught Fire. Edward Judd: 'Listen, your job is to pass messages on, when you're asked!' Janet Munro: 'My job is to do what I'm told by the people who gave me the job and anyway, this isn't my job; I'm from the Pool.' Edward Judd: 'Well, then why don't you dive back in and drown?'
Memorably Daft Lines From British Horror & SF Movies Of The 1950s and 1960s. Number Eighteen: The Snorkel. Mandy Miller: 'You think I'm mad, don't you? They all thought I was mad when I said he killed my daddy!'
Memorably Daft Lines From British Horror & SF Movies Of The 1950s and 1960s. Number Nineteen: Peeping Tom. Moira Shearer: 'What paper are you from?' Karlheinz Böhm: 'The Observer.'
Memorably Daft Lines From British Horror & SF Movies Of The 1950s and 1960s. Number Twenty: The Mummy. Michael Ripper: 'I've seen the likes tonight that mortal eyes shouldn't look at.' Gerald Lawson: 'You've been around to Molly Grady's again?!'
Which, as this blogger's fine fiend Tim noted, sounds like the set-up for a Pete and Dud routine. 'The worst job I ever had was ramming a pointy stick into a mummy's cleavage.' Et cetera.
Memorably Daft Lines From British Horror & SF Movies Of The 1950s and 1960s. Number Twenty One: X - The Unknown. Dean Jagger: 'It's a particle of mud, but by virtue of its atomic structure it emits radiation. That's all it is, just mud. How do you kill mud?'
Memorably Daft Lines From British Horror & SF Movies Of The 1950s and 1960s. Number Twenty Two: The Man Who Could Cheat Death. Hazel Court: 'But George, you just can't stand there and tell me that you're going away and never coming back without giving me an explanation.' Anton Diffring: 'My work makes it necessary.' Hazel Court: 'Because you're a doctor?' Anton Diffring: "Yes. Partly!'
Memorably Daft Lines From British Horror & SF Movies Of The 1950s and 1960s. Number Twenty Three: The Trollenberg Terror. Warren Mitchell: 'Well, Alan, for the first time in weeks The Trollenberg is free from clouds.' Forrest Tucker: 'Let's hope it stays that way!'
Memorably Daft Lines From British Horror & SF Movies Of The 1950s and 1960s. Number Twenty Four: Daleks - Invasion Earth: 2150 AD. Peter Cushing: 'We'll have to bypass Watford. The place is full of Daleks!'
Now, dear blog reader, 'if The Kidz are United, we will never be de - click ...'
So we arrive at the part of From The North dedicated to this blogger's on-going medical malarkey. Or, strictly speaking, malarkeys as there are several of them. For those dear blog readers who haven't been following this on-going fiasco which appears to have been on-going longer than the half-life of plutonium, it goes like this: Keith Telly Topping spent some weeks around Christmas 2021 into New Year 2022 feeling rotten; experienced five days in hospital; was discharged; received B12 injections; then more injections; somewhat recovered his missing appetite; got an initial 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 B-12 injections; had an echocardiogram; received more blood extractions; made another hospital visit; saw the unwelcome insomnia and torpor continue; received yet more blood tests; had a rearranged appointment for his sick note; suffered his worst period yet with the fatigue. Until the following week. And, then the week after that. Oh, the fatigue, dear blog reader. The depressing, ceaseless fatigue. He had a go on the Blood-Letting Machine; got another sickie; had an assessment; was given his fourth COVID jab; got some surprising news about his assessment; had the results of his annual diabetes check-up; had another really bad week with the fatigue; followed by one with the sciatica; then one with the chronic insomnia; and, one with a plethora of general cold-related grottiness. Which continued over the Christmas period and into New Year. There was that 'slipping in The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House bath and putting his knee through the side' thing; the night-time leg cramps; getting some new spectacles and this blogger's return to the East End pool. Only to discover he remains as weak of a kitten in the water. Or, indeed, out of it. Feeling genuinely wretched. Experiencing a particularly nasty bout of gastroenteritis. Visited by an occupational therapist. The 'accidentally going out in my slippers' malarkey. The dreaded return of the dreaded insomnia and the dreaded return of the dreaded fatigue.
Last week saw the latest of this blogger's tri-monthly prickage in The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House arm. And, it did knack like buggery, dear blog reader. As usual. Afterwards, the delightful Nurse Ami and Keith Telly Topping talked films as a way of taking this blogger's mind of the searing pain of the fresh B12 spearing. Oppenheimer (which Nurse Ami hasn't seen yet and wasn't sure that she wanted to but which her husband really wants to), Barbie (which she has seen but this blogger hasn't, yet) and Mission: Impossible - Dead Reckoning (Part One) (which neither of us have seen but we both want to though it might have to wait till it comes on a streaming platform).
As previously mentioned, this blogger has been suffering from some really weird and often disturbing dreams of late; last week he experienced another one which, quite literally, dragged him from The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House pit and forced him to turn on the PC on and tell the world (or, at least, his four hundred odd Facebook fiends) about it. This blogger was at Gallifrey (the convention that is, not the planet) but, it was very different from how Keith Telly Topping remembered the convention from the last time he was there in 2014. It was being held in a massive sports stadium, for one and this blogger found himself on-stage because he was doing the last interview of the convention. It was with Colin Baker. Keith Telly Topping introduced Baker in a way that, actually, this blogger probably would introduce Colin Baker if this blogger were to be interviewing him in front of eighty thousand punters ('he has been described, by me, as "The Doctor who, during anniversary specials, all the other Doctors tell to piss off, stand at the back and say nothing!"') This blogger thence proceeded to go through all of the - many - things that are so manifestly wrong with Mister Baker's era and he was, mostly, agreeing with this blogger and, surprisingly, not kicking Keith Telly Topping's heed in (which was more-or-less the point that this blogger knew this was going to be one of those sort of dreams). It was all very convivial and pleasant and the - massive - audience seemed to be enjoying it as much as we were. Then this blogger received a message in his ear that he should wind up the interview, quickly, because something special was going to happen. And then, all of the Doctors (including the four dead ones) came out on stage and started doing a song and dance routine - singing 'Vindaloo' by Fat Les. National heartthrob David Tennant was doing the main Keith Allen vocals and the rest were joining in on the shouty bits of the chorus. This blogger recalls thinking 'David, when you sing "We're from England", you do realise that you're not and neither are three of your bandmates?' And then, they all conga'd down off the stage and through the audience still doing the 'Nah-nah-nah/nah-nah-nah/nah-na-na-na-na-na-nah' bit and out of the gaff with the audience dancing and singing after them just like in the video. This blogger was left, alone on the stage with a sweeping brush and was told he had best get to work cos the place had to be ready for the next convention in half-an-hour; it was going to be the Stargate crowd and they're very picky about rubbish being left over from the previous convention. So, there you go Gally organisers, there is a top idea for next February. Of course, you'll have to hire the Pasadena Rose Bowl and hold some sort of witchcraft ceremony to get Mssrs Hartnell, Troughton, Pertwee and Hurt along. But, it has potential. This blogger is going to have to stop eating cheese before he goes to bed.
'Tennant could totally carry that, though I'd prefer Tom for the "me & me mum & me dad & me gran" bit' noted this blogger's most excellent fiend Carrie. This blogger concurs.
'Can you help me? I've erred.' 'Well, we've all 'eared, ducky!'
'My name? Why yes, it's SW Ryder ... Gonna lie down beside ya, fill ya full of junk.'
Moving on to various recent Us Dinner(s) At The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House, last week saw another appearance of Chicken, Mushroom and Sweetcorn Fricassee (with parsley, cumin, oregano and garlic) on the menu.
The other evening, this blogger really fancied curry, rice and chips, dear blog reader. Sadly, the local takeaway wasn't open for another two hours. That said, whilst this blogger definitely wouldn't wish to hang by his neck for that long, ultimately, in the great scheme of things, two hours isn't that long to wait. Even if you are Hank Marvin.
The following Thought For The Day appeared on this blogger's Facebook page recently.
An interesting suggestion as it happens. Though, this blogger found it necessary to point out one minor flaw in the original poster's, otherwise flawless, plan. 'If we stop Facebooking then we won't see this message,' this blogger advised. 'So, shouldn't we also, equally, be thanking God for Facebook? And, you know, the ability of sight. And the ability of speech. Where's it all going to end? " ... And, thank you God, for the garlic pizza bread I had for lunch today"?'
Also, from Facebook, this blogger noted the following link to an article entitled The Hyper-Regional Chippy Traditions Of Britain & Ireland. The first item caused this blogger to post the following: '[This blogger] has lived in Newcastle for fifty nine of the last fifty nine years and [this blogger] has never, not ever, not even once ever heard of Bolognese Chips being 'a thing' as claimed by the lass who is, seemingly, happy to be pictured flashing her knickers off in this piece of (alleged) journalism. Curry and chips? Yes. Gravy and chips? Yes. Garlic mayonnaise and chips? Yes (even though those who eat such a thing are the spawn of Satan and will spend eternity frying in their own juices). Spam fritter and chips. Yes, but, you know spam. This! Will! Not! Stand!
Media regulator Ofcom (a government appointed quango, elected by no one) has launched four new investigations into hateful right-wing louse-scum GB News after complaints that the channel broke impartiality rules. Three episodes of shows hosted by Conservative MPs (people who actually were elected to represent their constituents ... and then chose, instead, to get paid for talking scummish bollocks on TV) are being investigated in relation to a rule that politicians can't normally act as news presenters. Programmes hosted by wretched horrorshow (and drag) Sir Jacob Rees-Mogg, worthless nobody Philip Davies and that vile and odious McVey Woman are among those being examined. It takes the number of active Ofcom investigations into GB News to seven. The UK media watchdog has a rule which prevents politicians from acting as newsreaders, interviewers or reporters in news programmes 'unless, exceptionally, it is editorially justified.' However, some news networks have argued that their programmes hosted by politicians do not break these rules because they should be classed as 'current affairs' rather than news. Which is a bit like The Club Formerly Known As Moscow Chelski FC spending nearly half-a-billion quid in the January transfer window but managing not to break Financial Fair Play rules by some slippery malarkey involving spreading the payments out over lengthy contract periods. In other words, it might be legal, but it still stinks. In June, Ofcom commissioned research into public attitudes towards such programmes to decide whether the rules should change. On Monday, Ofcom said that it was looking into three editions of GB News programmes in relation to the restrictions on politicians acting as news presenters. They include the 13 June episode of the slappable Mogg's show State Of The Nation, which covered a stabbing in Nottingham. The regulator is also investigating the 12 May episode of Friday Morning With Ester & Phil, which featured issues including a teenager who was being sentenced for terrorism offences. The following day's Saturday Morning With Esther & Phil is also being investigated under the 'politicians as presenters' rule, as well as another rule which states that news must be presented 'with due impartiality.' That episode featured an interview with Howard Cox - the Reform UK Party's candidate for the London mayoral election - who was speaking live from an anti-Ultra Low Emission Zone demonstration. Finally, Ofcom is investigating an episode of that risible loony Laurence Fox's programme from 16 June, when it was being guest-presented by Martin Daubney (no, me neither). That show featured an interview with Reform UK leader Richard Tice and included a discussion about immigration and asylum policy. The regulator said that it was looking into whether the programme broke rules requiring due impartiality to be 'preserved on matters of major political or industrial controversy, or those relating to current public policy and that an appropriately wide range of significant views are included and given due weight.' A spokesman for GB News declined to comment on the investigations. There are three other Ofcom investigations into the channel - relating to Mogg's disgusting excuse for a show, Davies and McVey's disgraceful programme and the channel's Don't Kill Cash campaign.
From The North's recommended 'think-piece you might want to consider reading' in this latest bloggerisationism update is Robert Reich's Will Donald Trump Be Jailed Before His Trial? in the Gruniad Morning Star. To which the most probable answer is, almost certainly, 'no, but it'd be pure dead funny if he was.'
Nominations for this week's From The North Headline Of The Week award include the BBC News website's Boris Johnson's Swimming Pool Plans Threatened By Newts. Which is strange, because this blogger always believed invertebrates were amongst Bashing Boris's biggest fans.
Or, from the same source, Joe Pasquale Impaled In Freak Moose Antler Incident In Skegness.
The Shropshire Star's Band With Unfortunate Name Responds To 'Awful Coincidence' Over Cancelled Crooked House Gig isn't that remarkable, in and of itself. But the accompanying story, about Sally Rae Morris and Stephen Marks, who perform as Gasoline & Matches, 'addressing the public' over their 'unfortunate band name' after a poster 'went viral in the hours following the destruction of the much-loved pub' is worth its weight in comedy gold.
There's also the Seattle Times' Seattle Psychic Startup Hit By Copyright Lawsuit It Never Saw Coming. 'Unforseen circumstances', no doubt.
And, if only for the sake of further supreme irony, the Bournemouth Echo's story about a church having to raise fifty thousand knicker to fix its storm-damaged roof because their insurers don't believe this was 'an act of God' takes some beating.
A story which is, let us be clear about this, pretty much exactly what the acronym ROTFL&KMLITALOOTROTFMGSA was made for.
Early last week, dear blog readers, it was reported that NASA had picked up a 'heartbeat' signal from Voyager 2 after it had, previously, lost contact with the probe billions of miles away from Earth. Last month, the spacecraft - exploring the universe, along with its twin Voyager I, since 1977 - tilted its antenna to point two degrees away from Earth after a wrong command was sent by some plank who, one assumes, has since been sacked. As a result, the probe stopped receiving commands or sending data. But on Tuesday, NASA said that a signal from Voyager 2 was picked up during a regular scan of the sky. And then, just a couple of days later, the terrific news was received that contact had been fully re-established. NASA had originally pinned hopes on the spacecraft resetting itself in October. It took thirty seven hours for mission controllers to figure out if the interstellar command had worked as Voyager 2 is so distant from Earth. Staff used the 'highest-power transmitter' to send a message to the spacecraft and timed it to be sent during 'the best conditions' so the antenna lined up with the command, Voyager project manager Suzanne Dodd told AFP. After communications were lost, the probe had been unable to receive commands or send back data to NASA's Deep Space Network - an array of giant radio antennas across the world. But the space agency confirmed on 4 August that data had been received from the spacecraft and it was operating normally.
Of course, Voyager II and Voyager I are the spacecraft which contain NASA's famous 'golden record' which will introduce aliens to the sights, the sounds and the smells of Earth. The record contains music including extracts from Mozart's 'The Magic Flute', Beethoven's Fifth Symphony, Stravinsky's 'The Rite Of Spring' and Bach's Brandenburg Concerto - the latter despite Carl Sagan reportedly reacting to the suggestion it be included with 'no, that would just be showing off!' As a particularly memorable episode of The West Wing - The Warfare Of Genghis Khan - noted, the record also includes 'Dark Was The Night, Cold Was The Ground' by bluesman Blind Willie Johnson who died, penniless, in his forties but whose music has now left the solar system. According to Sagan's book they wanted to include a song by the Be-Atles (a popular beat combo of the 1960s, you might've heard of them) but thought they'd have trouble licencing anything by Lennon and McCartney given that Northern Songs was owned by Lew Grade at the time. (Sir Lew, subsequently, heard the story and said he'd've been delighted to give them anything they wanted since he knew the value of good publicity better than most). Instead, they chose 'Here Comes The Sun' but when they went to EMI to licence the song they were quoted a price of fifty thousand quid. When Harrison later learned of this, he is said to have sought out Sagan and told he next time, come directly to me. Most famously, the record includes 'Johnny B Goode'. A year after the launch, in 1978 Steve Martin was hosting an episode of the American comedy show Saturday Night Live and announced, in great excitement, that NASA had just received its first message from an alien lifeform; he then held up a mock cover of Time magazine which simply said 'send more Chuck Berry!'
And finally, dear blog reader. 'Old lady, why the hairnets?' 'Oh, The Hair Thieves! Come in the night and steal yer hair, so they do. Sell it into slavery. In Azerbaijan!'
