roadkill

g'day

it is widely recognised that each and every one of us, look you see, harbours a dream of one day waking up and finding themselves in the apocalyptic adventure wastelands of Mad Max 2. well, not quite, for if you are American you for some reason know this as The Road Warrior. not a bad title, just the wrong one. perhaps this shall come to be, either via some splendid yet as limited as it can be nuclear skirmish with the Russians, perhaps, or by some unforeseen complexities with the spectacular success thus far that is Brexit.

the problem with this, and maybe i state the obvious here, is that everyone has visions of being the same person. many of course assume they will be Max. others would fancy themselves as Wez, or the Great Humungus, or even the Feral Kid or the Gyro Captain. alas, sadly, we cannot all be them. a few of us - the majority, perhaps - will be them what get symbolically crucified by the Great Humungus, or twatted off of the razor boomerang of the Feral Kid, or indeed bummed off of Wez. no, it will not all be the great utopia which the film tacitly promised.

one of the biggest challenges to some of us - me, certainly - in this brave and bold new world shall be how to obtain cigarettes. you would have to guess that every is going to be far too busy avoiding getting knacked or bummed to work in factories, and so the production of fags will inevitably cease. fear not for me, dear reader. for opportunity allowed me to get some practice in for how i will cope.

should the above strike you as looking like a rather battered pack of fags, resplendent in lame plain packaging, some sort of warning and the all important "Excessive UK Duty Paid" stamp, well good, for that is precisely what this is. during my travels i spotted it laid on the road somewhere, or if you want to be specific in a car park.

it is quite often that i see discarded fag packets on my travels, just as i see all sorts of rubbish and waste. no matter how much effort many of us put in to keep the country tidy we, apparently, have aspects of our society that believe litter is their right. yes, indeed, twats they are. this is, however, the first time i have noticed a quite nearly full, if somewhat squashed and worse for wear, packet being discarded.

oh, absolutely i picked them up. the cost of fags here in England, indeed the wider UK (although it would be no shock to learn that we subsidise much cheaper ones in Scotland), is unfair and astronomical. despite being a posh twat the former chancellor, Osborne something, at least kept the tax low(ish) and left plenty of loopholes allowing fag makers to sell them cheap. not so the incumbent, and hopefully soon to be gone chancellor. he taxes fags with gay abandon, presumably to make himself feel better about the ill-fitting and generally misguided suits he insists on wearing.

quite flattened, or more appropriately crushed, as you can see above. the evidence suggested that this packet of fags had been driven over, at least the once. what is of interest here, however, is that there were 19 of the standard 20 in the packet. this makes me suspect that they were deliberately discarded rather than accidentally dropped. it is, alas, the case that these fags are them horrible "crush ball" ones, the ones what start off as reasonably normal fags but needlessly transform into terrible menthol ones when you squeeze the mint ball in the filter. something of a paradox, or whatever the right posh and clever word is, then, for at once they are the worst fags in the world for they are menthol, and yet still the best, for they were "free".

am i looking forward to the wonders of the world of Mad Max 2 coming to be, something that would presumably see me have to obtain all future fags this way? partially. you would think that avoiding the Wez and Great Humungus type figures would be a priority, and stuff like food and water looks difficult to obtain. but, then again, these scavenged fags are free, so that's a win.

our friends in America are, of course, ahead of the game here. under the English way of doing things, as and when we see something of interest by the side of the road - a slain sheep, for example, or cash - we are expected to pretend we did not notice and just carry on as if nothing had happened. not so for our Yankee chums, who will pull over, make some smart "whooping" noises, wave their splendid cowboy hats in the air, and then strap that dead beast of the field to their car, driving home with it in triumph, firing off shotguns in celebration of their result. i would suggest that those who mock this are simply jealous of it.

do please take time to heed the warning presented on this packet above, even in the battered state of it i presume it remains valid. also valid is the proud declaration of how much tax one usually gets nailed with on these.

was i not concerned that someone had deliberately left these fags behind, which is to say that maybe someone, an anti-smoker of quasi vegan outlook, had tampered or somehow interfered with them? partially, yes, i suppose. but then you have to remember that some of the warnings claim that no less than 70 suspiciously unidentified chemicals are added anyway. what is it that someone could add which would make it worse, exactly?

how are, or were, they to smoke? the best of times, the worst of times. again, free, or scavenged, so great. but they are them menthol "crushball" ones. i have probably smoked worse, but seldom is it i have had the satisfaction of cheaper.

every now and then one hears, in celebratory terms, of someone getting bust on a plane, trying to smuggle drugs. whereas the authorities triumph this, everyone knows that really all they did was collar the obvious stooge put there to get caught. on that same flight you can guarantee four, five or more others had substantially more drugs, and they just sailed through thanks to the obvious distraction. this must be true of "illegal" cigarettes here in the UK. knowing the efficiency of certain bodies, whenever there is a report of "thousands" of tax free, sensibly priced fags being seized, you just know that means there are many millions of them which are not. yes, ideally, i would indeed appreciate doing business with some of these entrepreneurs.

am i hopeful of further finds such as this? kind of, i suppose. it is realistically unlikely that i will ever find a pack of, say, my beloved Marlboro Red discarded in such a way. one never knows, though, perhaps i shall get lucky.

well, anyway, we are done here. i would say "if you are reading this as the world has gone all Mad Max 2", but that would be pointless, for the internet is probably one of the first things to just stop working in those circumstances.



be excellent to each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

muted celebrations

heya


it was (fairly) recently so that my (considerably) better half, look you see, had reason for much merriment and celebration. no, not that, for if i am typing this then such could not be so. what i speak of is that instance of joy which most (unless they elect not to) would commemorate once a year, or if you like a birthday.

the coming of this event prompted many (several) actions of homage and adulation, with wishes both good and kind being forwarded. one such example of this is the lovely card my sister sent on. it was to be, however, a case of not judging a book by its cover. or, you know, whatever the saying is.

what was the issue? well, brace yourself, but have a look......

yes. in the clarity of Commodore 64 mode, you are seeing something of a horror. for some reason, again i know you can see this perfectly but for the sake of completeness, a Christmas themed stamp was used a number of months after the festive or if you will yuletide period had been traditionally considered at an end, or finished. compounding this is the fact that the stamp has been slapped on the envelope in a rather haphazard way, which is to say not straight.

i knew of this before it arrived in the post. my sister was absolutely horrified at what the employee of the postal service in an unspecified nation (Gillian asked me not to slam the whole of the New Zealand post office so i have kept the country name out of it) (oh) did. she remonstrated with the staff member immediately, asking her what she thought she was playing at and demanding that it be peeled off, replaced with a proper stamp placed correctly.

with tears in her eyes, the employee gave a heartfelt apology, for they were aware of the folly they had committed. she further said sorry about not being able to fix it, for to remove the stamp would be to damage the envelope. fearing - perhaps rightly - that this faux pas might cause a family rift, Gillian wrote to me after the episode, explaining the above mostly word for word (mostly), and asking me to pass on my apologies to my (considerably) better half for the certainly not intended insult.

although i did do this, as you can see above when it landed through the letterbox she was not quite prepared for the true scale of the horror. my (considerably) better half gasped, did one of them shocked "shriek" things and then passed out. fear not on the latter, for i fetched the smelling salts and managed to more or less resuscitate her. but my sister is forgiven, for eventually i was able to convince my (considerably) better half that the sin was of another.

my (considerably) better half tells the above in a slightly different way. in her version she simply found the story mildly amusing, and mentioned that unless i, and my sister, had brought what had happened to her attention then in all probability she would not have noticed. how exceedingly brave and giving of her to conjure up such a whimsical cover story.

did any other intrusions on celebrations happen? yes. well, sort of. i had an idea to make some sort of merry, jolly video, celebrating both the birthday of my (considerably) better half and celebrating the fact that she is not that bad to have around. on the basis that it shall play ok here, well, here it is below.

hopefully that plays ok, and indeed i trust that you liked some of the pictures. possibly, too, that you enjoyed the most splendid music. i look forward with some small measure of significant interest to learning if you can actually hear it. well, hear it whilst you have the sound switched on.

the most natural place to showcase this video in the first instance was over on that "social media" business, or if you like facebook. mostly this went ok, right up until the point at which that i got this notification, or if you will warning, or if you like telling off......

oh. quite clever, them facebook lot, to identify the fact that no, i do not "own" You're My Best Friend off of Queen. to my mind i didn't really think Brian May of the hair, Roger Taylor (not the Duran Duran one), John of the Deacon or the memory of Freddie would have much of an issue with it, but it would seem that facebook did on their behalf. apologies, then, to friends in Andorra and Antigua, and in particular to the several revolutionary sisters united in the cause my (considerably) better half has in Afghanistan and the UAE, for not being able to hear this.

something of particular interest is the claim that something called Hot In Cleveland appears on the soundtrack. if it does, then i do not know how. this is a piece of music i have not heard of, never mind put anywhere. perhaps it sounds a bit like the song i actually used, or vice versa, depending on which one came first.

want another look at the unseasonal misplaced stamp? i cannot think of why one would wish to subject themselves to such profanity by choice, but not for me to stop you reaching for the dream.

anyway, as is customary for my musings here, the final image usually cues the fact that i have exhausted all possible words to use.

right then, probably best for me to sign off here, that being the case.



be excellent to each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

continuing commodore 64 car wash celebrations

hello


well, i am baffled. that's a pretty general statement, look you see, and one that i suppose is generally true of my regular state of mind in this brave new world i find myself in. but, to be specific, i am unsure as to why my presentations of the car wash experience in Commodore 64 mode are so popular. let me set aside my confusion and just merrily give you more of what you wish for.

indeed it was quite an overcast day on this visit to the car wash facility. rain was most decidedly in the offing, and soon came. my vehicle of choice, however, had become something of a magnet for dirt, filth and so forth. going through the car wash machine was a requirement rather than a lifestyle choice.

to be honest i am quite sure that i've taken more images and video (for there is a clip to follow in this post) of such adventures but have failed to put them here. sorry for that, i have them all saved somewhere but do not recall where. even if i did find them, i would find it difficult to recall which of the images i had already posted. under no circumstances do i read my own writing, so it's not like i can go back and work it out.

a selfie? why not. i have been meaning to post one or two, but again this is not something i have gotten around to.

no you are not mistaken, and yes that is why i have been meaning to do some. indeed i have a couple (two) new pairs of glasses ("spectacles") and shall show them off eventually. of the new sets these are my favourites, for that is worth.

whilst i never have any idea which of my post will prove to be popular, as said the enthusiasm you seem to have for a car wash in Commodore 64 mode is rather curious. the previous two on this very subject have had more reads, or "hits" than a couple of the random bowie posts what i have done for your pleasure. each to their own.

oh, yes, the "video" or "animated gif" i mentioned. do you call it an "animated gif", though? not sure what "gif" stands for but i believe the implication is movement.

yes, sure, as and when i next have reason to visit a car wash i will grab some images, and some more outrageous video / gif action like the above. even better, i suppose, would be remembering to post it here for all you enthusiasts of such stuff.




be excellent to each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

three films

hello there


so yeah, i have watched a couple more films. well, three, look you see, hence the title of this post. no, nothing "new" or fresh at the cinema. yes, some 66% of them were ones that i had seen before. but, if for some reason anyone is interested, i thought i would post some thoughts, comments and observations here.

a look, in a rare non-Commodore 64 mode, at what i watched, followed by the obligatory or if you like standard comments? sure, why not.

yes, indeed, i did knock up the above image - "collage" via the magic of the print screen button on my keyboard, and the most excellent of excellence in useful programs on a computer known affectionately, and accurately, as MS Paint.

if you are able to look at the above image and name all three films that i watched, what i would say is that is most smart, that is, to be sure. well done you, and nice one that for some reason someone else has my peculiar taste in how to spend some quality watching time.

to start with the some 33% what i had never ever seen before, that i could recall, would then be to commence all of this proper with a film called D.C. Cab, but that i shall call DC Cab just to make it easier on the typing.

it is a film also sometimes called Street Fleet, and i do not recall ever seeing it for rent down at a video store in the UK. truthfully, all information i have to hand says that this never got a release here. undoubtedly it did get a "direct to video" thing, though, as there are too many well known actors in it. probably just that none of my video stores of choice, which is to say within range of my bike, ever opted to have it on the shelf.

anyway, yes, there is "sort of" a plot. basically a mishmash of comedy vignettes featuring some rather poor cab drivers, sellotaped together with a basic plot of them trying to all get a taxi company to survive, and then a "kidnap and rescue" plot hastily thrown in at the end so as to give the film some sort of conclusion.

was it any good? Joel Schumacher went on to make better films, put it that way. not many of the cast did, with the possible exception being Adam Baldwin, who of course a mere four years after this played Animal Mother in Full Metal Jacket. anyway, the film starts off with a stack of nudies, presumably to lure the target market (me) in, but that soon fades away. you get left with a few hit and miss jokes, and some tasty racial jokes of a quasi Blazing Saddles nature.

if you are looking for motivation to find the film, there's stacks of Mr T without his trademark gold necklaces and with a decidedly ahead of its time gay pride march wardrobe. also, Gary Busey on one of the faster sections of his career slide, shouting a lot.

for some reason the film Starflight One came to my mind. not sure why, as i do not consider the works of Lee Majors as often as you might think. anyway, unsure of if i had ever seen it, i decided to watch it. soon in, yes, i discovered i had indeed seen it before, and had something of a total recall of memories of renting it.

we in the UK had to rent it, to be sure. from what i gather, or remember, it was a "made for TV" movie for the American audience, but such was the box office clout of Lee Majors internationally during the 80s (think prototype Tom Cruise), the motion picture was blessed with a full blown theatrical release and premium rate video rental fee.

plot? Lee Majors is the best pilot in the galaxy, so but of course he is chosen to captain (or whatever) the maiden flight of Starflight One, the first plane to "kind of" go into space, so as to make the trip from the USA to Australia only two hours long or something. no, no idea how long it normally would. but of course everything that could go wrong does go wrong. will the passengers and crew survive?

any good? it's one of those weird films that is decidedly underwhelming at practically every level (but with particular emphasis on the acting) yet proves to be strangely compelling viewing. yes, indeed, it echoes the great craze for the "disaster movies" of the 70s, and has proven to be peculiarly influential. more than a little, for instance, of Armageddon would appear to have been "borrowed" off of this film. except Bruce Willis is no Lee Majors. and neither is Ben Affleck. Steve Buschemi, maybe.

would i say it would be worth your time to find Starflight One for viewing pleasure, assuming you don't have a VHS, Beta or laserdisc of it kicking around? strangely, perhaps, yes. it seems the DVD is only out in Germany, and costs a fair bit. worth it, perhaps, for some simple, fuss free entertainment.

one that i was totes certain that i had seen before but wished to watch again was Night Patrol. an early to mid 80s "parody" film which is sort of like a Police Academy for grown ups. well, grown ups with a peculiar sense of humour.

plot? a mishap prone copper moonlights as a standup comedian, The Unknown Comic, to rave reviews and glowing adulation. things get complicated when someone steals the idea of the look of the unknown comic (a brown paper bag over the head) and starts doing robberies and all that sort of stuff.

the humour is lewd, crude, rude and at times "offensive". 12 or 13 or 14 year old me thought it was wondrously funny. north of 45 me cannot decide if i still found some of it funny, or if i was just fondly recalling how i found it funny at the time. undoubtedly, though, the midget, farting, ill tempered police chief is very funny indeed.

any value in you watching it? well, if you wish to see how absolutely any subject could be used for humour, off you go. also, it has Linda Blair in it, and for some reason her presence in a non Exorcist motion picture locks in a weirdly specific audience. further, Andrew "Dice" Clay appears, as Andy Clay. it may amuse one or two of you to see him before he briefly became well known (if not popular or successful) (but Adventures Of Ford Fairlane was smart) before drifting back into relative obscurity.

well, anyway, that's that. no idea if this is of any use to anyone. perhaps someone else out there got all nostalgic for one of these, and has stumbled on this by the magic of one of them search things. nice one, if so.



be excellent to each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

blues of the smuggler

hi


yes, i did indeed want to call this post smuggler's blues, look you see. this would have been in no small part as tribute to the halfway decent song what once featured on Miami Vice (proper tv version not rubbish film) (and i do mean rubbish). for the life of me, however, i did not know if it would be correct to say smugglers, smuggler's or even smugglers', so i just left it well alone. getting the spelling, the typing and all that is important to me. from time to time.

if i were to say that we all had a hobby, or indeed a vice, that would probably be wrong. some of us, however, do indeed have this. mine would be not so much the one as two or three. of these, the one which is perhaps the most curious is my disposition, my proclivity or my interest in wrapping up rather weirdly specific and precise toothpaste in cling film, and then posting it off on a journey just south of 12,200 miles, or if you like just north of 18,000 kilometers.

exactly how long have i had an interest in doing this? give or take a few weeks, about 7 years now. to be honest, ever since my Dad first asked (as in, insisted) i do this for him, as often as possible. so yes, then, this is all about the unavoidable fact that toothpaste what has for some reason had "lovebeads" shoved in it is once again back on the shelves for sale.

for a product that the manufacturer assured me, in writing, was in fact discontinued some four or five years ago it sure does seem to crop up on the shelves of retailers infrequently often. in this instance it was Poundland what had taken the mantle of seller of this most elegant and discerning forms of toothpaste. they had a few boxes in, and i have noticed that ever since i bought a whole stack at once they have restocked with plenty. as in, lots.

what's the appeal of this particular toothpaste, a toothpaste that has lovebeads rammed or otherwise thrust into it as a selling point? i have no idea. there has always been a temptation to try this stuff, but a sense of guilt has always thwarted this. every tube of lovebead toothpaste i were to use, to be sure, would be one that my Dad was not enjoying.

just what, other than lovebeads, would one find in this toothpaste? for those of you curious, or even interested in passing, here you go. this next image shows the three different of the four sides of the packaging, so you may inspect, disseminate and understand it all.

to be honest if - and i wish to make the if part there perfectly clear - i was going to start experimenting, or messing about, with lovebeads, then i suspect my first instinct would not be to shove them into some toothpaste. no, i have thought about it, and there is not much in the way of clarification i could give beyond that statement which would be suitable to be on this blog.

going back a little, why is it that the manufacturer wrote to me to try and claim this most peculiar form of dental care was no longer available? because i wrote to them, begging them to sell this stuff in Australia or New Zealand. not that i mind sending it on to Dad; far from it. my concern was just with it so infrequently appearing on the shelves here he might have had to settle for a lesser, other, presumably inferior form of lovebead free toothpaste from time to time.

how much does it cost to post lovebead loaded toothpaste to the other side of the world? in the grand scheme of things not too expensive. to send three tubes costs south of £10 but north of £9.50. sending four tubes makes slightly more economical (fiscal, perhaps) sense, for if i recall correctly that costs north of £12 but also south of £13. spending so much to send something that costs so little might seem peculiar, but then you have to consider how priceless the toothpaste is thought of at its point of arrival.

i suppose if the shipping and costing was an issue i could just pretend not to see it as and when it is up for sale. to do so would be morally wrong, though. besides, in all truth, i quite like wrapping this stuff up and sending it halfway around the world. or, you know, all the way around the world, for how the hell would i know what sort of route the postal systems of the world would deem fit to use.

do i actually feel like i am doing something mischievous or illicit? well, that would explain the title of this post, if i was or if i did. no, not really, but it is a lovely title. although yes, i do get some funny looks off of the post office when, for "security reasons" (as in they are being nosey) they ask what i am sending, and then i explain what and why.

for those particularly interested, i can indeed confirm that yes, the consignment of lovebead loaded toothpaste pictured here did indeed arrive safely in New Zealand, and there was much merriment when it did. some further packages have and shall be sent, so far as a balance between stock and affordability permit.




be excellent to each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

it is accomplished

hello there


there is a temptation, look you see, to say that this is one of them "nothing, really" sort of posts. except it very much is something. a very big thank you very much indeed to all of you.

for what? well, it has taken some 15 years (blimey), but one of those milestone numbers has been reached.

undoubtedly many other websites out there hit one million people visiting a lot sooner that this blog has reached that figure. the difference, i would speculate, is that they all probably set out to achieve such. i didn't really. my thinking was maybe a few friends and family members would have a gander, and then i would get bored with it and not do it after a few weeks. didn't quite go that way.

anyway, many thanks to all of you who have come and had a look here, you see!



be excellent to each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

my room

hi


it had been previously thought, look you see, that less (fewer?) than 20 pictures which featured me (moi) during the 1990s existed. the actual figure may have even been south of 10. realistically, though, the answer is possibly that somewhere well north of 30, maybe even hundreds of them, happen to exist, i just do not have them.

with this partially in mind, there is some degree of interest as and when i happen to chance across any such pictures. as i have very little else to do with such excitement beyond "post" the odd one or two on that social media thing and then "share" them here, well, here we are.

many of you, i know, get quite excited about date accuracy. i can feel your pressure to be specific on the where and when details. no such information exists for these pictures, alas. the best i can do is narrow it down some, and say that they come from mid to late 1993, possibly more towards the mid section. revelations of how and why i come to that narrowed down assumption (guess) shall flow as we go.

right now, as point of fact. with me sat at my desk there one cannot see a big Olivetti typewriter. you can however almost make out my sleek, black, slimline Casio electric typewriter, one that used either very expensive ink cartridges or "printed" (burned?) text onto that classy "thermal" paper like what some fax machines used. so that places this all prior to 1994. that i am resplendent in a rudimentary jumper and am (actually) south of the equator means that this is the colder, winter months of the southern hemisphere, so surely mid-1993 is accurate. more evidence to follow.

what can i realistically tell you of the above? well, i am at something of a loss on what would appear to be either a Diana Ross picture or calendar. she's most smart, like, but i have no recollection of this at all. best guess is that it was a calendar. the piles of paper and envelopes on the corner of the desk suggest University stuff (i am quite clever, as and when i try or otherwise apply myself) (no, not as often as you might think), which again says 1993.

on the wall facing me above is, i imagine, an image of The Rolling Stones. can't be The Who, no way does Daltrey jump that high and you couldn't see Townsend playing the guitar in such a basic, conformist manner. Mick and Keith, to be sure. by my side on the wall, then, is my absolutely massive, block mounted Italian version of the poster for Taxi Driver. yes, i still have it, but no, not on display, all nicely wrapped up and stored safely. next to it is a page from Empire magazine, they used to have a "classic scene" on the last page of each edition and presumably i thought it was a very good idea indeed to frame that one and place it (juxtaposition)? near the poster.

i did indeed have one of them "en suite" bathroom things, thank you for asking. and here i am, apparently showing whoever is taking this picture the doorway to it.

two of the things which dominate this picture are mine no more. i speak of the really smart posters at either side. most recently, a few years ago, the Wild At Heart one went to a nice sounding lady in one of then "northern Europe" nations (possibly Norway, i might have remembered if Finland), simply as she asked for it. offered to pay, true, but as i was happy for it to go on display somewhere all i would accept was the cost of shipping. as for the other, my most beloved Blade Runner one, well, when the time came for me to come home it seemed most appropriate for me to leave it with a very dear, special friend, someone who has always been there for me and continues to be as and when they can.

did i, and my bedroom, attract a lot of what you might (assuming either you are not American or are American but now understand the correct definition of the word) call "a lot of fanny"? certainly, but i would not use such a crude and crass term. ladies, thank you. in retrospect, looking at the above picture, in doing so i am not entirely sure the correct signals were being sent out there, what with my shrine to De Niro's stellar performance as Max Cady out of Cape Fear, or having photographs of some very dear friends who happened to be ladies on the wall.

one for the ladies, then, or indeed for members of the gentry who may for some peculiar reason find me their sort of thing, in the form of me apparently getting dressed. you would have to think that the presence of the Reservoir Dogs poster on the wall also pretty much lands this in 1993. i do appreciate the film was made/released what have you in 1992 (i think), but it didn't really take off or catch on until a bit after.

the red curtains are indeed, i would like to think, a tribute to the "red room" off of or out of (whichever is correct) Twin Peaks, but if so then they are a homage off of me Mum, who set up such things for me. over on the bookcase are a few books, yes, but for the most part it seemed more important to me to have a few video tapes and audio cassettes on display. what was on them? can't rightly recall, but i would trust all quality. tapes of the music variety will be Bowie, Frankie, Stones, Stone Roses, Who, etc. you know, the best of the best.

quite a few things to get through in the next image, to be sure. last image too, for those of you who are getting bored but for some reason remain reading. final, conclusive proof for those wondering that this is mid (ish) 1993 would be the smart Brett Anderson out of Suede poster on the back of my door (courtesy NME), and indeed the Black Tie White Noise off of David Bowie promotional poster put wherever it would fit.

no, i am unsure what fate befell the Bowie promo poster. for some reason i think i had two. it is possible that i have them still, rolled up, but maybe they are gone. bit lost on the second Blade Runner poster i appear to have there, do not recall it at all. for the keen eyed, oh yes, that is my framed Tin Machine concert ticket, and yes i still have it framed.

over on the door there is something of a celebration of Denis Leary going on, in particular his "debut album" No Cure For Cancer. i can recall an NME (or similar) review, saying it was "mostly funny but will date quickly". let me assure you that, 25%+ of a century later, i still find it funny. there's also some postcards from another dear friend on display. one is off a series of cards called "lost consonants", featuring plays on phrases with one non-vowel dropped. best of them was "the fog has turned into a prince", which shows a masked lady with a fog machine conjuring up Prince (that one) from the fog generated by her device. over the light switch is a very much treasured card, and advertising one saying When things are dim give them Vim.

so then, that's that. an unexpected but on the whole very pleasant discovery by me of some images of me. it is quite difficult for me to grasp just how many, if any, shall be interested in all of this, but there you go, i have written it and put it "out there" now, what is done is done. for whatever reason you read and had a gander, thanks very much indeed for taking the time to do so!




be excellent to each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

and i've never seen anything quite like you before

hey there


just one of them rather materialistic curiosities, look you see. not necessarily a lavish indulgence or act of bourgeois opulence, but also far from a trivial waste of time. well, perhaps.  all i can do is show, discuss and hope that it is all, at the worst, no more and no less of a waste of time than my usual ramblings here.

for two different layers of friends i have around the world, and on either side of that mythical equator our society places such video on, i suppose the abiding image people have of me is video. not just any video, really, but them splendid vhs tapes which revolutionised our lives, making it possible to watch films (and related) whenever we so wished, so long as we were at home or at a place with a video machine. and a tape.

much of my association with video tape comes from one notorious, infamous perhaps, edition of News At Ten. yes, i was one of those peculiar children who for some reason followed the news. anyway, on one episode, they did a "shocking expose" on how easy it was to do something called "pirate". it showed how easy it was to connect two cassette (tape) decks to pirate computer games, it showed how simple it was to connect two video machines to pirate videos off of the video shop. they presented this as a shocking and very, very bad thing; i saw it as excellent and a very, very good thing.

the point here, moving away from anything too incriminating, would be that in my life i have encountered a good many video cassettes. loads indeed, as point of fact. but in all of my time, and in all of my adventures, i had not previously seen anything like the above video tape, presented for your pleasure in the highly pleasurable and pleasant Commodore 64 mode.

at a glance you may well say "what is he on about, that is just a Beta cassette". you would be forgiven for this, for that is all i saw when i first saw it. the truth, though, is that this happens to be a most curious and interesting looking VHS tape. stick with this, you shall see. well, if you are interested in this sort of thing. no, not that sort of thing, so to speak, but as it happens that does feature.

it was never really the case that "gimmicks" came in to the world or realm of VHS, or home video. little changed about the design and appearance. oh, sure, you may think that when they changed the colour of the cassettes, or had a different "bail bar" at the top protecting the tape, that was some sort of gimmick or marketing strategy. alas, no, it was a simple way of trying to thwart piracy, to easily identify when rental shops or stores what sold tapes were dealing with bootleg copies.

above, then, is a view of the rear of the video tape. you are most welcome to take a tape measure or similar to the above, but for the trained or familiar eye it is clear that this is very much a VHS cassette, despite the quasi Beta appearance of the front or top part.

what are the most interesting elements about the back of this video tape? perhaps it is best for you to decide that, internally if you like but vocalise if you will. for me it is the octagon shaped holes for the spools, as opposed to the standard round ones. go big or go home seems to have been the idea of the people who made this cassette.

indeed, as for those who did make it, you should be able to make out there that it was, as point of fact, made in Ireland, to be sure. for all i know, then, whilst this tape might be quite common and was once the norm in Ireland. i simply do not know. other than not having made it to Ireland in my travels, the only person i know off of Ireland that reads this blog from time to time is Bono out of U2. when he does comment, video tapes just don't come into it.

something that makes this tape even more excellent than the appearance is that which is on it. yes, oh yes indeed, there is some of that sort of thing housed on it. i do indeed mean filth. mucky pictures, obscenities, that sort of thing. no i am not going to share any images here, and yes, honest, i only bought it for the appearance, really. sure.

most who i have shown this video cassette to, which would pretty much be my (considerably) better half until i wrote this, are most impressed with the "pac man" transparent casing. should that be the element, or indeed aspect, you like the most, then that's no problem.

right, that would be that. my most earnest and greatest thanks to the person who provided me with the tape, for an exceptionally reasonable cost. worth the coins alone just to showcase it here; the material on the tape itself very much a bonus.



be excellent to each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

helicopters

hello there


just another one of those nostalgia inspired, sentimental hygiene exercises, look you see. no, i have no idea if these ones get written purely for myself, or if they connect to (or in some way resonate with) anyone else out there. with no particular reason to find an answer to that, i have no particular reason to stop, then.

every now and then i, and surely many others, spot an entirely random thing quite unexpectedly. it's something that will bring back distinct memories, and in so doing brings about a most satisfactory introspective smile, perhaps causing the streams of blood to skip with merriment as they circulate the heart, or whatever it is they all do.

such pleasure was mine when i was on, about and around the grounds of a place i had good reason to visit, and my head was cast downwards for no particular reason other than this would seem to be a normal, natural stance.

helicopter leaves, ladies and gentlemen. as in the plural of leaf, which i believe to be leaves, since leafs strikes me as what you would do when reading, as in one leafs through the pages of a book. should you disagree, and believe that i have this wrong, then that's fine. it doesn't really matter.

there is probably a proper name for this sort of leaf - two, no doubt, with a latin "original" and then an english language one. mostly proper names are important, kind of, but not to me in this instance. i shall forever remember these as helicopter leaves, for when i was a child that was how we saw these and how we played with them.

i am not sure if it was our imagination which stretched to such or if it was wisdom passed down from others. when we found this form of leaf, or these leaves, we picked them up via the "stem" but, held them slightly aloft between the tips of two fingers and rolled them off, into the air. arguably the movement after that was more "parachute", but they span around and "flew", so we felt natural and comfortable calling them helicopters.

did i, somewhere in the vast realms of Durham, pick one of these up and try to "do a helicopter"? yes, of course, there was no question. alas, the skill has gone. either my touch was too heavy, or some 30(+) years of not doing this means my technique has gone. no, not some sort of metaphor or other such nonsense about "loss of youth" and "forgetting childhood", etc, but just how it is. being unable to do it any more does not detract from the fondness of memory.

with all the tools and sources of knowledge available to me - an "internet", for a start - i suppose i could go ahead a look for the proper name for this kind of leaf, or these leaves. but, why on on earth would i do such? to do that would really be to if not eradicate then make a botched, clumsy effort to erase fond memories.

yes, as you can see in the above, i did indeed elect to try and take a picture of these helicopter leaves (leafs, if you are adamant) in Commodore 64 mode. whilst i am perfectly happy with how it looks, i suspected that you might have appreciated the above, non-Commodore 64 mode (i didn't say clearer) images to see what i was going on about.

anyway, that would be that for this. my thanks as ever for reading, absolute nice one if this has triggered some similar memories for someone out there somewhere.



be excellent to each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

i'll take on anyone, ain't scared of a bloody nose

howdy pop pickers


so yes, then, look you see. for the second month in a row after "finishing" doing a monthly post on Bowie, here's one on Bowie. or just a strange incident or episode, i suppose. perhaps it is one that has never really had as much attention as it should placed on it, or indeed has benefited from far more consideration than was really required.

the specific incident is the song Loving The Alien. no, that is not quite right. about 3, maybe 5, perhaps 7 but probably no more than 10 seconds of the original video for the song. some of this was likely to be referenced in the post i did on the Tonight album, but you would have to check on that, no way do i read what i write. surprised that anyone does, in truth. if they do......

even those who do dismiss the entirety of the Tonight album as "rubbish" do not actually dismiss the album entire. in fact, those who do expect the Spanish Inquisition, etc. beyond the poetic pop perfection and charm of Blue Jean, there is Loving The Alien. a song, even in its outrageously overproduced 1984 original release state, which is hard to argue with the vaguely impenetrable genius of.

in terms of the song itself, what is unknown and what is known are intriguing. for certain, there was absolutely nothing at all like it in 1984, certainly not in "mainstream" music or even on the edges. somewhere close to two decades before Dan Brown made such footnotes of history his retirement fund, here's Bowie referencing the Knights Templar and all associated with it.

this was a rare instance of Bowie talking in detail about one of his songs, but as you would expect he revealed quite little. other than he considered it "deeply personal", perhaps one of his most personal songs ever (ahem, certainly pre Blackstar). whilst some see it as a very linear critique (attack, perhaps) on organized religion (it was known that Bowie wrestled with faith, the opponent to his belief being the frustrations, the corruption and the hypocrisy of organized religion), i am not sure. other comments note that mostly it plunges into how our ideas, notions, understanding or common assumptions of history can, and often are, be radically altered by the next find.

Bowie was a prolific reader. knowing this, considering this song and noting that Holy Blood & Holy Grail was published just two years prior seems to make a connection. whilst i am not sure how much i wish to delve into the actual song itself, what has fascinated me for quite some time is the "self censorship" Bowie introduced to the lavish, very expensive, quite difficult to work out exactly what is going on video.

above is a still from the scene which "caused all the trouble". yes, below is a brief clip from the original video, showing it all. depicted is, indeed, David Bowie having an unexplained nose bleed as he sings the song.

this special effect, showing a swelling nose rather than just blood trickling down, would have been both difficult and expensive with 1984 technology. compliments to the team that pulled it off. then. leaving that aside, i don't rightly know why such an expensive scene would be in the video in the first instance, why out of all the imagery and lyrical content of Loving The Alien the BBC and several other broadcasters objected to it, or why Bowie felt that the edited version would be the only one ever to be made available again.

indeed i did promise you a video, and here it is. of course i would suggest you rather watch the whole video somewhere online, and certainly play the song entire on a decent stereo, but since you are here, this is the offending bit. but, be warned, when it was briefly available on video (the Day In Day Out "video EP"), it carried an "18" certificate, presumably purely for this scene alone.

with regards to the "edit", makes kind of sense from Bowie's perspective with the threat of a ban off the BBC, and also presumably things like ITV's The Chart Show. sure, it was 1984, and it was known that a banned video usually led to an increase in sales. consider, if you will, Relax, or even Girls On Film. but those bans came about because of that thing which must never ever be spoken of in England, or shown on screen, you know, thingy (sex for readers in countries where the government trusts them more than they do us). a ban for a bloody nose would be unlikely to send sales soaring, and as much as he was on a commercial pressure drive at the time, it genuinely seemed Bowie's wish was for this particular song to be heard by as wide an audience as possible.

but why this scene? sure, the "out of the blue", unexplained nature of it can be considered "unsettling" if you think of it for long enough. there are, however, no implications of violence or harm to it, a cause-effect thing which one would reasonably consider fair concern.

the thing is, right, if Loving The Alien were to come out today, then it is probable that the last thing anyone would be worried or concerned about is this now ever so slightly infamous "nosebleed" scene. daring to depict any sort of religion is ill advised as someone will kick off somewhere. the not so much implication as direct showing of an english gentleman marrying a muslim lady would undoubtedly cause some distress somewhere. why, i know not, i just live in this world.

also, if you made a video today where you reasonably in the context of the song projected an image of you as a Knight, possibly Knight Templar, carrying the shield of Richard The Lionheart, apparently engaged in the crusades, and had a muslim lady stood in support of you, it's probably not going to get heavy rotation on whatever shows have music videos on them these days. yes, would take a "you tube ban" as a given, i suppose.

lately i have found myself singing and humming Loving The Alien as i potter around. that is probably, in all likelihood, what brought back memories of the fuss around this scene, and the apparent fuss free resolution to it. no one, so far as i am aware is demanding the full video be made available again. although yes, i dare say there were expressions of disappointment when DVD releases of Bowie's videos came out, all featuring the edited (censored) version.

will we ever know what Bowie truly meant with Loving The Alien, or why he was so keen for all of us to hear it? probably not, no. but we can surely play the song and appreciate the magnificence of it.




be excellent to each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

no crib for a bed

heya


on my travels through this world i do get to see some things, look you see. these things, or if you like formatting tricks and techniques things, can be curious, striking, interesting or to some extent noteworthy. i am not sure that what i have seen in this instance falls into any of the above groupings of definitions, but we carry on anyway.

the things i see on my ways around the world that i consider to be of interest are those things which have, with wanton recklessness, been abandoned. no, actually, you, dear reader, seem to be the ones what consider them of interest, going on the reading figures for such incidents.

for those of you who have an interest, even if i am just addressing that to myself, here you go.

yes, indeed. in the greater glory of Commodore 64 mode, there you are. a rather, or indeed quite, battered mattress, along with a bottle which is one that unmistakably housed super strength and astonishingly cheap cider, that has been emptied and i suspect the bottle "recycled" in use, to put not too fine a point on it, for the cider must flow once more after consumption. 

it is at times like these that i question the decision, the bending, the acceptance and the commitment i have apparently intrinsically made to a life of responsibility. whilst under no circumstance making light of those who have genuinely fallen through no want and certainly no wish of their own, there are those of our society who have quite deliberately dropped out of it. 

my own sin, my corruption, my addiction, is of course cigarettes. due to the draconian taxation here, the price i pay for this - other, of course, than the presumably quite painful eventual demise, going on what the warnings promise awaits me - is roughly just south of nine pounds (cash) a day. on my travels i have seen gentlemen of ill fitting and seldom washed wardrobes enter shops just after they have opened, immediately purchasing a massive bottle of super strength cider and a loaf of bread. this costs them south of three pounds cash, and has them set for the day. 

the above, now that i think of it, probably shows off the world weariness of the mattress and the nature of the bottle far better than what the Commodore 64 mode picture did. see, again, i am trapped by the walls of responsibility.

could i ever do it? without being pushed or falling due to reasons beyond my control, just give it all up? head off, saying "oh, f*** it, i am off to get sh!tfaced on cider every day". no, probably not. far too materialistic for my own good, and yes, i would miss the people in my life. i don't even particularly like cider to be honest, but in our heavy handed taxation ways i am amazed at how remarkably cheap the lethal strength variations in massive bottles are. it is almost as if some in government would encourage those who follow this path to reach the end of the road as quickly as possible.

but, you know, good luck to those that chose such, and may hope bring brighter days for those who did not.




be excellent to each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

some more further reading

hello reader


and so it is time for one of those regular book review sort of things, but with added responsibility, look you see. in the northern hemisphere we are theoretically into the summer period, and as such you, the people, are looking for what to read whilst sat by the pool or on the beach whilst enjoying a holiday.

in my entirely unsolicited status as some sort of social media "influencer" i must be both responsible and mindful of what reading i endorse. or, you know, maybe not. more than likely the ladies who read on holiday will take to this new EL James novel that has rather conveniently landed in paperback. for the men, well, for the most part chaps on holiday will either swan or indeed mince around in speedos, trying to attract the eye of the ladies or similar minded gents, whilst all the time humming Macho Man by the Village People. of the men that read instead. it will probably be that James Patterson and Bill Clinton one what they read, the one that i reviewed earlier in the year and is now also out in paperback.

yes, i would appear to have got someone sidetracked in the above. happens more than you think to us social media "influencers"; i have a whole new level of respect for that Kanye Kardassian and that Kylie Jenkins now i know what stresses they have. anyway, a look at what i read, followed by a spoiler free overview.

Twisted by Steve Cavanagh was a "must purchase" owing to how rather good Thirteen, or if you like Thir13en, was. no, not "as good", not really kind of the same thing, but a rather decent read all the same. The Secrets You Hide by Kate Helm sounded fairly interesting, and then proved to be mildly interesting. not bad, as such.

as was, is, and always shall be, to be as fair as i can i will do all possible to avoid spoilers and such. but, to be safe, from here on out please note that a magnificent *** SPOILER WARNING *** is declared. seriously, if either have seemed or sounded interesting, then yes give them a go, worthwhile reads.

to start where i did would be to start with Twisted, then. yes, i bumped down a couple of other books i bought to get to this one as soon as i can, for i enjoyed the previous one and also Aunty (no, the other one) did and so i wished to pass it on as soon as possible.

provenance of my copy? i am almost certain it was £3 at Tesco, but it might have been £3.50. on the strength of just how good Thirteen, or if you will Thir13en was, this was something of an autopilot purchase, to be sure. although i am saving money by refusing to have anything to do with their 2 for £8 deal, so quite cross i remain at them increasing that deal by a quid.

the plot? well, it turns out not to be another Eddie Flynn adventure. also, not really a "legal thriller" as such, but a twisty turny mystery thriller all the same. basically, the world's most successful novelist is one that has hidden their identity from the entire world. when this identity comes very close to being exposed, the question is perhaps not so much what are they prepared to do to ensure it remains secret but maybe what exactly is it that they have previously done to ensure that anonymity remained very much a thing.......

it was all rather unusual and unexpected, this. what i really wanted was more of the same, but i suppose one cannot blame a writer for wishing to mix things up, do different stuff, etc. unless you are Dan Brown, i guess, but who is?

as measures of success, enough twists and turns to keep me interested and reading, with very few of them being too predictable or groan inducing. more than once, however, and i will word as carefully as i can, as i read i thought, "hang on, if x is so y then surely z", with the z invariably happening on the next page or the one after. oh.

ultimately the shortcomings are generously generally outweighed by the rather decent nature of the read. so, if you go right ahead and select this one for your reading pleasure, i have every confidence that you will enjoy. especially if you quite liked Thirteen, but so long as you have picked up on the subtle hints here that it is quite different.

on then, to The Secrets You Hide by Kate Helm. i know you are all for the most part really only interested in the provenance, so yes, Tesco again. only this time i am fairly sure this was either one of their £3 flat books of the week, or even maybe 50p below that.

plot? a courtroom artists with a deeply troubled past is invited to revisit one of her most famous works for an art project. not long after she starts to be "haunted" by visions of people from the past, associated with both the court case she is revisiting and her own darkly troubled upbringing. are these visions trying to warn her of something, or is something else going on.......

that really only covers some of it, sorry, best i could do to give a rundown without revealing too much. also, in a way, that and the apology highlights the single biggest problem or possible letdown with the novel; there is simply far, far too much going on in this all at once. plot twists and turns are wonderful, in particular within a thriller that is as psychological as it is "physical". but too many of them and you get a sense of them either being far too contrived, or simply being misled by conveniently not even hinted at developments that were "there all along".

whereas i really rather quite liked the novel, and would have little hesitation in recommending it, at no stage did i find myself as immensely immersed as i had expected (hoped), and no, didn't really "love" it as such. perhaps this is one of those books i shall think back on and recall it better later than i do right now.

so, then, that would be that for another two books. yes, if i am given time, there will indeed be a look at a further two novels, as and when i have read them.

well, anyway, time you would spend reading more here would be time not used in reading either of these, or whatever you are reading at present. best, then, to leave it there, with the usual thanks for reading this, and the obligatory modest hope that this has been of use to someone out there somewhere.



be excellent to each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

lynx frozen mint and lemon under review

hello


you would have thought i may have learned some form of lesson by now. them what do the lynx (axe in some corners of the world) deodorant have a habit, look you see, of misleading me into experimental purchases. it has very much happened again.

this time it is another of their "collision" or blend ones. apparently, or presumably, they have reached some zenith, zeitgeist or other such saturation point with simple, regular scents, and so now mix and match as to further exploit the market. in this instance, they have brought together mint - sorry, frozen mint - and lemon.

yes, the latter element was enough to secure my purchase. as i have documented several times in the past, lemon in personal hygiene products is quite class, for Jason "Jase" Donovan used to have it in his shampoo, and so it must be good. by means of an aside, my comments on this in the past would appeared to have made me quite the authority, for my words rank quite highly on the google for a search on the subject.

i approached this deodorant with sheer, perhaps innocent, optimism. everything about the description prompted most positive thoughts. aside from my passion for zesty lemon, how could it fail when there was the presence of what sounded like cool, refreshing, crisp (hello, Faye) frozen mint?

well, where it could fail - and does - is the part where it is left to lynx to determine or decipher what the scent of these is. apparently for them "frozen mint" has a damp, musky smell, the sort of which you might associate with certain kind of gentlemen who have been detained in a Turkish prison and have, for want of a better description, "made the most" of their time there. when it comes to lemon, apparently what lynx smell is a very sweaty, muscular, musky scent, the type of which you may well (again) associate with a gentleman who has made any number of friends whilst residing in a Turkish prison.

the standard purpose of lynx, or if you like axe, deodorants was to alert and allow feral teenagers to be drawn to each other for breeding purposes, either in bus shelters or down the sides of alleys near pubs and clubs. it would be quite far, i believe, to see that they are now looking at an entirely different demographic as a target market.

and why not, you would have to say. why not indeed. it is my understanding that the youth, the feral teenagers of today, do not seek to get completely smashed on very large bottles of exceptionally cheap cider and then engage in carnal proclivities. no, instead they just stare at them phone screen things and what have you. perhaps they are losing out, but should it be that they are happy with how life goes then there is no argument.

except, of course, for lynx, who must then find a new market for their wares. but i am rather lost at the approach they have taken to this new market. it may be worth exploring, yes, but for the life of me i cannot think of any gent who would willingly pay to smell like they have been rather intimate with a gentleman inside a Turkish prison when they could simply get themselves incarcerated and have that for free, with one or two "bonuses", depending on how you are with that sort of thing.

will i be buying any further tins or cans of this? no. i have no ambitions to be approached by gentlemen with (admittedly magnificent) big bushy mustaches, bearing names such as Ahmet, Mustafa and Berat, with them having the assumption that i very much wish for their attentions.

right, there you go. nice one if this has been of some peculiar use to anyone.



be excellent to each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

jap habit

ご挨拶

one of my few regrets, or if you like laments, with this blog is that i do not attract nearly as many Japanese based readers as i had thought. increasingly i am coming to suspect that this is down to the fact that Japan simply doesn't have an internet.

yes, before you ask, if you have not seen such posts before, i have indeed attempted to write 日本語のみ, but that does not seem to help and it just makes it tricky for everyone else to read.

this has come up again as Spiros has been in Japan recently. yes, that Japan. he was most pleased with his experience there, and asked me to publish this guest post. below, in italics, is his post, along with some images. it is only some very minor editing and censorship i have felt obliged to apply.

Spiros Guest Post On Japanese Taxis 

Stevie and other [expletive removed, no suitable replacement available], especially Cameron, f’off. Look you see, I have had the pleasure of spending an extended time in Japan. I thought my time was ruined when i heard ‘take a cab’ on day one.

In London that means listening to a white guy, who smells of p!ss, and who hates black people (pull the f’n lever meself!), whilst he navigates the shortest possible route between Heathrow and Kew Gardens via Canary Wharf, Your f’n “knowledge”, I can read Google maps just as easily as the next Bulgarian.

I would be ashamed to do a spew in a Japanese taxi. These guys wear top hats, white gloves, bow and call me Spiros-san. Black people are fascinating, the ride is in silence, without the cabbie screaming in time to the next moronic comment on LBC, and amazingly, they prefer card payments!

WTF is wrong with Brexit Britain? I was treated properly by men who look like Rees-Mogg earning a wage, everything is clean, they actually make and export things, etc. Plus I got to wear a kimono for three days and do karate training every day.

the only other thing Spiros added as an aside was that Uber does not operate in Japan. he said this is because, unlike his experiences in London, there is absolutely no need or call for it as the taxi drivers you find there are honest.

anyway, i would hope and trust that this has been of some interest to some of you.



otagai ni yūshūdearu!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



or, indeed,



お互いに優秀である!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!