Musings on the byways of popular culture
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Well, that’s progress! Yay! Blinding logic from HM Gov. Up to 15 of us can swap viral loads without fear of fines – it’s an £800 wallop for everyone if a 16th person gets past the front door, so we’ll need someone scary to stay in the hallway and look mean. I’ve got some lights for the front room, and a load of mixtapes that will keep us hyperventilating till dawn. Bangin’ choons, breathin’ germs, sharin’ the Covid load.
What planet is she from?
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Apols if this has been linked here before – if it has, I missed it, and just stumbled across it on ver Tube. It’s a nice half hour of Robert Fripp talking intelligently about his career to date.
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I just blew what may well be my last Prime purchase – I’m binning the service from tomorrow as I never use anything except the free delivery, and that’s no longer really worth the 80 sovs – by pre-ordering the hotly anticipated (by me anyway) new album from Del Amitri.
To my delight I noticed that if you pre-order it there are a limited number of signed copies on offer. I expect that @Dave-amitri already has his order in, but if you don’t, now is the time to place one.
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Farewell Gerry, and thanks so much for the tunes. Recording in Abbey road, working with Brian Epstein and George Martin, you were one of the first wave of the Mersey artists who broke free and gave us all your scouse magic. RIP
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What is wrong with this place? Nescape Navigator just can’t make head or tail of it. I’ll have to complain to the European Commission unless something can be done about it.
What’s the going rate for sub-editing contracts at Number 10? They must be paying peanuts if they are getting out-of-date monkeys.
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Those bloody elves, hoppin’ around on the rooftops, comin’ over ‘ere thinking they can deliver presents down the bloody chimney. They should bugger off back to the North Pole and read up on central heating technology before they come over ‘ere shovin’ parcel down my flue. And that bloody Santa Claus, wot is he, ruddy European geezer innit? Don’t get me started. Dressed up in a red coat, comin’ over ‘ere… (shut it, Nigel, back in your box. Ed.)
This just in (my inbox) from the marvellous fellow that is Pete Jones the singist.
Something to put on the stereo when your bubble coalesces for Christmas Day. Play loud!!
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The Channel is closed, as are all destination airports that would otherwise be receiving inbound flights from the UK. All flights inbound to the UK cease, from all originating countries, with no exceptions. Internet links to the UK are turned off, as everyone has heard enough bumbling, incoherent entitlement. The rest of the world gets on with recovering from the pandemic.
No-one else anywhere in the populated world gives a flying toss about the UK, and just carrys on as if we did not exist. The EU prospers, America ignores us, the Commonwealth shakes its head in disbelief and shrugs.
Back ‘ome, riots break out, HM Govt. opens ‘isolation camps’ dotted around the country, ringed with razor wire and a few desultory squadies who have to do what they are told. The camps are filled with ‘infection risks’ (Trade Unionists, Do-Gooders, Lefty Lawyers; that sort of scum).
Early in 2022, a drone crosses from France taking low-level high-res photos of the streets and fields to see if anyone is still alive over here…
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“The Ministry of Defence (MoD) said four Royal Navy patrol boats are ready to protect UK fishing waters.”
This country is now officially, and irrevocably, COMEDY GOLD.
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Laphroaig 10 Year Old Malt Whisky 70cl bottle – on offer at £26 quid (£12 off) at Sainsbury at the mo’.
Sorry if you’re not in the UK or if you can only bring yourself to shop at Waitrose. When Harrods and Harvey Nicks are both shut.
Add your own Crimble bargains in the comments.
/please resume normal service
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Jonny Trunk’s mailout today shares the link below, which will lead you into a fabulous and massive black hole of lost time as you peruse the TV graphics in Auntie’s Archive from the 1950s onwards. I’ve already let one cup of coffee go stone cold while gazing at the opening titles for Fred Hoyle’s superb ‘A For Andromeda’ and countless other marvels of ancient broadcasting.
Cast your eyes and ears across these little gems of creativity before HM Gov flog them all off. Or something. Relect upon the outstanding value your TV Licence delivers. You don’t even need to pay for a subscription to explore this treasure trove, which is complete with creator’s notes and comments in many cases.
I started with the diggidee bum diggidee bum Doctor Who sequence, which is accompanied by an explanation of its genesis from Bernard Lodge, who was the genius behind the title sequence…. but there’s so much more in here. So much more. Dive in!
Where’s that coffee? Damn, gone cold again.
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nnng
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Here’s a cracker from the Beeb News website today.
In Nottinghamshire, the Prince of Darkness and some undead mates have been on the rob, it seems. This screen grab may have been slightly edited.
Any more suitably careless headlines you’ve seen?
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Newly recognised sport: Communication with Plebs
New Medal Category: WPB (Waffle, Prevarication and Bullshitting)
Category Gold Medal winner (absolutely guaranteed this): Boris Johnson
FFS what an embarassing display this evening. The man’s a cretin.
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A bullying minister, who broke the rules designed to ensure that civil servants are not harangued and bullied by jumped up here-today, gone-tomorrow politicians. Expected by an unwritten code of honour to resign when found guilty.
But lo! From Number 10 here is a personal Get-Out-Of-Jail-Free card, signed “Love, your chum Boris”.
How much more of this Leave campaign pay-back will the British Public tolerate? Everyone bar the nutters seems to hate her guts so why is he prepared to carry on with this mockery of due process? Does she know where (some of) the bodies are buried, or what?
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Back in March, when the brown stuff reached the aircon, the M4 motorway, which is just visible on the horizon from Foxy Towers, relaxed from its normal frenzy to a bare trickle of traffic. So little was it used that it attracted viewers, fascinated by the sight of kilometre distances between vehicles, almost all of which were commercial traffic. This manifestation of mellowness was miraculously accompanied by skys clear of contrails, by birdsong audible for the first time in living memory within half a mile of the baleful tarmac, and a general relaxation of the otherwise palpable manically driven southern English madness.
This time? The skies remain calmer than they had been, but as for carbon spewing motorised transport, there’s no such effect. The motorway has remained at its normal levels of activity, and the roar can be heard from a field or two away, yea unto sunset and beyond. Why is this?
Are folks just ignoring the reality of what’s supposed to be happening? Certainly, our neighbours seem to be paying little attention to their obligations as pedestrians. The Chelsea Tractor drivers are still meeting for a lengthy undistanced chin-wag twice a day outside the Primary School opposite the » Continue Reading.
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500g Sainsburys puff pastry.
Halve the pastry, roll out into two circles, one slightly – say 2cm – wider than the other.
Put the slightly bigger circle into a pie dish and blind bake it for 20 mins (in total) at 180C. You’ll need to have some clay baking beans to put onto baking paper to weigh down the pastry circle while it gets partly cooked. Whip the beans and paper off after 10 mins and bake it naked* for another 10 mins. If you ain’t got beans, sacrifice a couple of hundred grammes of dried pulses like chick-peas or kidney beans instead. After 10 mins at 180 they will be like full metal jacket bullets, so just bin them afterwards. After the 20 minute blind bake (i.e. sans contents) it should look like this:
https://imgur.com/82eo03y
(Sorry folks, but I’ve been trying to get the images to actually appear in this post for about 12 minutes now, and a) I’ve lost the will to live, and b) my 15 minutes are nearly up, so hey, just select ’em and open ’em in another tab OK?)
OK, that’s built the basic container. Now for the scrummy filling. You can use any » Continue Reading.
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Look, the guy plays a mean guitar, ok? He wears a stylish beret rather well, and has interesting things to say from a Sufi perspective. His ex has a magnificent voice, and he always seems to be surrounded by stellar musicians whenever he commits a choon to wax.
Sadly, right now he’s busy sorting out all those dodgy CD copies of the “Hard Luck Stories” retrospective that’s recently come out. It seems the title of the boxed set is all too apt for many purchasers. So he’s now engaged full-time in opening up boxes of boxed sets and boxing the ears of those who boxed them up in the first place, before re-boxing the replacements which have been ordered in by the boxload. I hope. Any news from Richard’s “people” on this? Not holding my breath.
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Well, why not see if we can get all ten “Recently Updated” titles to be RT related, however tangentially.
Which is of course a reference to the critical angle between the beret and the RT bonce.
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Fry that rice guys, and pass me a cold Bintang!
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My Rega Planet has slowly developed a reluctance to play certain CDs. It barfs over the first track on The Best Of Van Morrison, for example, and refuses to cope with the last track on Legend by Bob Marley; these are both mass produced commercial discs that should play fine in any old machine. Feed the Rega a home made CD-R or a commercial disc stuffed with almost 80 minutes of music on board, and you’ll be lucky to hear it all. All of these discs play perfectly on the decent TEAC CD deck in my office, I might add.
So I sent it off to Rega for a ‘service’, via a local well-respected hi-fi shop. They charged me £106, which apparently is the cost for Rega to “clean and lubricate” the mechanism that allows the laser to track the disc surface. I picked it back up yesterday.
It still behaves in exactly the same way as described above. I am devastate. I am £106 poorer. I am NOT F*CKING IMPRESSED. I am pissed off to the max.
On the phone, the hi-fi shop unhesitatingly said, “bring it back, that’s not good enough, we’ll send it back to Rega » Continue Reading.
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Holy dipsticks Batman, will you just listen to these idiots objecting to ‘communist dictatorship’ infection control measures. How did they all get to and from the Dorset coast last week?
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It occurs to me (after a couple of decent bottles) that you could make up crossword clues for which the solution would be the name of a beer.
I’ve put one in the comments.
Any more compilers out there?
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Remember when pop music was FUN?
