bill and ted face the music

heya

some of the more regular readers of this blog (and that there are such people suggests there is not all that much of interest on the internet as you would think) will have noted that i am very much advocate and acolyte of all things Bill and Ted. they are, well, excellent, look you see. bearing this in mind, i am uncertain there is any value at all in me offering any sort of review of anything pertaining to their most excellent excellence, for it is quite clear i shall be in favour of it. 

but, since i watched it, and grabbed a couple of images (two), well, i feel compelled to write of something or other here on a frequent basis, so my thoughts on Bill & Ted Face The Music are so presented for the consideration of anyone reading. no, i did not ever expect that when i hit the age what i am that i would write such comments, or think them, or make them public. 

the plot? once again (and this is the third documented instance of such) the future existence of the human race, if not planet earth entire, is at risk unless Wyld Stallyns compose a most boudacious and totally awesome rock and roll song. and so a messenger is sent from the future to try and assist, if not directly enable, William 'Bill' S Preston Esq and Ted 'Theodore' Logan achieve this so as to avoid the bogus. 

are they successful? is the plan a success? well, actually, you would presently know more of this than me. there is every chance (as in you will be) reading this in the very future with Bill and Ted are frequently (or at least three times that is know of) called upon to secure and save. one imagines that if they fail and the future is bogus then the internet shall not be, but if it is excellent then it will run as it presently does. 

leaving that aside, is Bill & Ted Face The Music any good as a film? yes it is. quite likely, with the way things have turned out, the best film of 2020, and certainly also in contention for the title of being the best, greatest and most important film of this rather unsettled century. 

mostly, this is achieved by the film not being a disgrace. there are many dangers in revisiting a much loved concept years later, and several examples of complete disasters coming from the efforts. it is so that the film manages reasonably well to balance being true to the original films whilst appreciating matters such as the passing of time and needing to be of some relevance to so-called modern audiences.  

quite a singular act of genius on behalf of the makers of the film was the introduction of the character Death at the point where they did. this was somewhere north of 50 minutes into the motion picture, when it all started to feel like it was lagging somewhat and getting a touch jaded. he immediately revitalises it all, and ensures entertainment for the entire duration of the motion picture is secured. well, that and the hope that Station turn up, but alas they do not. get a mention, though. 

if i were to nitpick, the only real foot placed wrong was the inevitable Dave Grohl cameo. this i took as being bowing to the convention of the time we are in, where he is regarded as the nicest man in rock, if not the world. yes, he is a man who has made some great, wonderful gestures and that, but also he is someone what David Bowie once told to "f*** off". i have every confidence that David Bowie would not do such a thing without good reason, so let's just reign in those praise pushes. 

well, anyway, time spent reading this is time spent not watching Bill & Ted documentaries. i would encourage you to watch any of them instead of reading further here, with particular emphasis on the first two films but this one is not so bad. 

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

no hard shoulder left to cry on

hello there

a post dedicated to, once more, unravelling and revelling the mysteries and myths of nature, look you see. well, maybe a mystery and possibly a myth. maybe, but certainly in the singular. 

something highly sought after (and the existence of which has often been contentious) in the wilds of nature is, or has been, the four leaf clover. this, for the sake of clarity, would be a clover growing that has four leafs (leaves?) on it, rather than the conventional three. at least i think it is so that they traditionally just have the three. i am not horticulturalist or marine biologist, no matter how tempting it is to pursue the lifestyle of the latter. 

quite by chance it was so that, one afternoon, as i sat outside smoking (sorry), i spotted one of these presumed to be mythical four leaf clover things. well, at the very least, i think i did. no, as shall be explored later (if your read on) i did not "pick" it as such, but yes of course i did take a picture or two. 

it seemed quite (and most) appropriate to take a picture of what i suspected to be a four leaf clover in the greater glory of Commodore 64 mode. this, i can appreciate, might not be what some of you would consider as appropriate, so yes, down below, is a clearer "regular" sort of image. but open yourself up to the wonders of seeing things in Commodore 64 mode, it is better. 

why, exactly, is it that many would consider the (ostensibly) rare four leaf clover (if it is even a real thing) to be lucky? i am unsure, and i have little interest to do one of them google things to explore the concept further. for some reason i suspect it (the idea that such would bring luck or good fortune) is all of some irish provenance, or it may well be romany, or indeed gypsy should one still be allowed to use that word free from fear of arrest. 

does the luck thing work? i am not sure. first, it is not confirmed that i actually did find one. should it be so that i did, then it was that i was rather flustered, and had no idea of what ceremonial activities needed to be done to extract the luck and good fortune from the find. instinct told me to pluck it from the ground would be to defy the nature of things, so i did not. all i can confirm is that this approach brought no immediate luck in respect of any lottery jackpots. 

purely for your consideration it is so that the above picture exists. that is indeed a batch, or if you will crop, of regular (conventional, maybe) clover, in something of their natural habitat. note the shape, position, size and what have you of each leaf. and, indeed, how many leafs (leaves?) there are. if. you know, you wish to. 

there was the one afternoon of the one day of one summer in my youth (rather than, say, at some stage in my future) where i, and i believe my brother and sister too, scoured a field for a four leaf clover. we searched in vain; we searched in awe. sadly, no, we did not find what we were looking for. i can recall, to my shame, doing what no doubt others did and have done, which was to try and "split" one singular leaf, or petal, off of a clover so as to craft an unconvincing illusion of a four leaf being found. 

so, anyway, a look at what i think (or thought) or suspect (or suspected) was a four leaf clover is in order. and, at that, a look in non-Commodore 64 mode. 

now that i look at it here, closer (so to speak) in this picture, i am not convinced or otherwise "sold" on it being so that this was (or is) a four leaf clover. the top part was what had my suspect it was so, but perhaps this is just a distorted, or if you will elongated third leaf, rather than leaf three and four trying to by symmetrical with leaf one and two. 

but that said, who are we to stand judgemental in the face of the dreams and aspirations of plant life? should this clover wish to be a four leaf one, then it is so, for it (they) have achieved such as convincingly and realistically as possible. 

yes, indeed, more of this sort of thing to follow, should i see similar, and of course be fortunate enough to make it that far. 

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

deluxe double disc delivered day of release (delayed)

howdy pop pickers

so yes, then, another look back on a day of release what was delivered but is only being written of now. as opposed to speculative writing on one which has yet to come, look you see. in this instance, it is the deluxe, double disc edition of Goats Head Soup by The Rolling Stones, which was indeed posted to me in such a manner (or fashion) that it arrived (in the post) on the intended day of (re)release. this is unlike the single (as in one track disc) Living In A Ghost Town, which they only posted out on the intended day of release. 

credit, indeed, to whoever (or whomever) it was that went full tilt in pressing the improbability infinity drive button for the year 2020. no, as this somewhat complex year commenced, i did not suspect or expect that two (not just one, or thus far as many as three) releases off of the Stones would magnetically attract my coins of money. 

many of  you, i appreciate, shall be in a rush to just establish whether or not (or if) this release is any good, and further if it is worth getting. there shall be some considerable waffle written around the pictures what i have taken and added, so to cut to the chase, yes, this deluxe version (or edition) of the album Goats Head Soup is absolutely worth getting. for a band (brand, perhaps) somewhat noted (to say notorious feels wrong) for not giving too much away as "extras", this is a generous and stunning release. 

immediate further questions you may have may well concern two factors here. one would be about if this edition includes the "uncensored" version of Star Star, whilst the other would be are the three songs which have not officially been released before worthwhile. yes and yes. to be honest i do not recall ever hearing the 'censored' version of Star Star (and a clue to the censorship at hand would be that i believe the song was originally titled Star F****r), but what here has Sir Mick saying as many profanities as you may wish to hear across three or so minutes. as for the three previously unreleased songs, well, with their track record for digging out and using older compositions for albums (as many artists do), it is most surprising that none of these ever turned up as album tracks proper over the course of the last four or five decades. 

quite a wonderful thing to do, if like me you are prepared to spend an inordinate amount of time giving consideration to such, is to assess the current status of any petty squabbles within the inner circle of the Stones. this is a carefully guarded place, of course, so hints and who thinks what of who are always rather interesting. interesting in a way (indeed) that no present day band, and few since the dawn of the Stones era, have ever come close to being near to inspiring. 

to this end (or effect), it would seem that, close on 30 years later, it is almost the case that Bill Wyman has very nearly been forgiven for having the temerity to be only the second person to dare quit the Stones and remain alive. one establishes this by virtue of the fact that a number of pictures in the booklet feature Bill Wyman in a clearly visible way. yes sure, one of the pictures seems to see him in a state of subordination to Sir Mick, apparently looking towards him in the hope that he is not causing either distress or displeasure. 

alas, despite indications of (some) forgiveness and healing during all that 50th anniversary stuff, it seems that Mick Taylor is once again out of favour. this conclusion is drawn from the fact that the above image (outside of the original artwork) is just about the only one which shows him, as a then full member of The Stones, in a way he can easily be identified. he famously initially caused some distress by being the first ever person to quit The Stones alive, and then disgraced himself somewhat by having the (by Stones logic) unusual idea of expecting to be paid for work that he did and the band went on to use for profit. refer, mostly, to Tattoo You for this. 

still, lots of images of Keith, as per the above (which i think looks most excellent in Commodore 64 mode). he looks quite tired and emotional in a few of them, probably due to his selfless sacrifice to the altar of rock indulgence. quite a few pictures of Sir Mick, too, including a class one of him in flares. no, not too many images of Charlie Watts, but that would probably be because Charlie Watts instructed them not to use images of Charlie Watts. with his formidable track record for instilling discipline and understanding in various band members by punching them square in the face, i would have every reason to suspect that he just simply "asks" (as in tells them) such things these days and they are most agreeably compliant. 

oh, the music? yes, i suppose i should mention some of it here. best, probably, to start with what one would call the "album proper" before delving into the extras. 

coming to the album (ostensibly) again, i confess that i was only immediately familiar with three songs. they are Angie, which at times the band have confirmed and denied pertains to a former (not that she mentions it much) Mrs Bowie, Heartbreaker, in which the band discover the wah-wah pedal for guitars, and (somewhat obviously) Star Star, the partial nod to groupies which caused a little bit of a stir. also, of course, the originally intended quite more literal artwork for the record, and the subsequent image(s) used, which give a mock suffocation look but are simply the band behind a think pink veil. 

if i were to say those three remain the strongest songs on the album (which i am saying) that's not to say the remaining (or other) seven are poorer or weaker. far from it. this is as solid, indeed as exceptional, a set of ten songs as you would find on any Rolling Stones album. in terms of being an album which comprises consistently excellent songs, this ranks right up there (for me, in my opinion, etc) with Let It Bleed and Tattoo You. 

but great songs alone do not a classic album make. to somewhat depart in conversation here, let me throw out something which might be "controversial" and may cause someone somewhere to argue with me. my sense is that at no point (yet) in their illustrious career is it so that The Rolling Stones have released what has come to be referred to as a "classic" album. 

please don't misinterpret that. in terms of recognition, or iconic status, the only peer they have (in terms of percentages, etc) comes in the form of The Beatles. further, they have been responsible for some of the greatest, most gifted and genius pieces of rock and pop music, ever. as the (officially) unreleased songs on Goats Head Soup emphasise, they have discarded songs which if released would have been greater than what many bands have managed to release in the last (north of) 50 years. this is The Rolling Stones we are speaking of (or i am writing about and you are reading). as Keith Richards once pointed out, there are a couple of generations to have only had three constants in their entire existence - The Sun (star, not solar system), Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II and The Rolling Stones. do not be so sure you know which one shall cease to be a constant first. 

rather hear me out, then. a "classic album" by my understanding is one that comprises more that the sum of its parts, no matter how superb the parts in isolation may be. this doesn't necessarily mean a classic album needs to be as overt as a concept album (or rock opera), but still, a thematic thread (or threads) weave through the album entire to give one singular experience, rather than hearing a sequence of songs in themselves. if that makes sense. probably not. 

still with me? good. examples of what i am talking about which come to mind are The Joshua Tree, Automatic For The People and of course, arguably (except there is not much debate) the greatest of them all, Rumours. there are many, many 'great' albums (such as, for instance, Goats Head Soup) which just lack that extra step. the closest, i suppose, the Stones came to this was Let It Bleed, bookended as it is with Gimme Shelter and You Can't Always Get What You Want. a case exists for the sellotaped together outtake album that is Tattoo You, but then you would have to credit the lad who went through all the stored tapes to find the songs for putting that together, rather than the band themselves. 

a recent interview, given in furtherance of promotion of Goats Head Soup and pertaining to the previously (not officially) unreleased songs on the deluxe edition, Sir Mick gave some incidental insight into the construction of a Stones album. this was something of an accidental confession, i suppose, or if you wish to view as such. basically, it would seem that as soon as eight to ten songs were done, dusted and polished, that was it, album done, and anything not quite ready was just left to one side. by their own admission, then, no great consideration went into the composure or construction of an album as such; the focus was just to bang out x amount of songs which reached a satisfactory standard and get on with it. considering the estimated, assumed and known wealth of all bar one member who has a penchant for messy (costly) divorces and a somewhat ambivalent understanding of what is and what is not a good investment, financially this approach appears to have worked out all fine for them. 

yes that is the (presumably) originally intended album artwork for Goats Head Soup. presented, of course, in the greater glory of Commodore 64 mode. this was the second time they got knacked for album art, the time before being that Sticky Fingers caused some distress in some nations. rather than stand their ground, though, the Stones have always been flexible to change so as to ensure the flow of money comes from what they do. quite right, too - there is little point making a record and then making it so that no one can buy it. like, for instance, how the Bowie Estate has just done with ChangesNowBowie, making it an artificial limited edition and i forgot to order it so i guess that one shall remain missing off my collection. 

it would be rather difficult not to infer some sort of satanic, pagan or similar connotation to both the album name (which i have not found a reasonable explanation of the provenance of) and the artwork. songs such as Dancing With Mr D appearing on the record indicate similar. undoubtedly such references find a happy home with Mr Richards and his perpetual blues / Robert Johnson / Crossroads deal with the devil kick, and it is unlikely that Sir Mick would rally too much against anything which provided good marketing. 

how about the ostensible selling point of this re-release, which would be the three "rare" tracks? the band have wisely avoided using the term "previously unreleased", as they seem aware that rather rampant bootlegging of some of the stuff has happened. how that happened i know not, maybe an error or such from the time when that one lad had access to all the tapes to construct Tattoo You. 

whereas it would be misleading to suggest that the three "new" songs here - Scarlet, Criss Cross and All The Rage - are in any way forms of lost or forgotten classics, they are three really, really good songs. knowing their penchant for grabbing and finishing off previous songs, it is rather incredible that none of these ever surfaced on any of the albums they did in the 70s, 80s, 90s or 00s. or, maybe not. it is known that Sir Mick has a fondness for Stones records to "sound relevant" to their time, so the waca waca ooompah jazz fusion odyssey wah wah delights of Criss Cross and to an extent All The Rage would have sounded rather dated if released as anything but the way they are here; reflecting a time rather than being passed off as "new". with regards to Scarlet, that thing in 1981 where Mick Taylor sought (and got) royalties for the songs they used on Tattoo You probably put paid to it ever getting used, since, as has widely been celebrated, this song features one Jimmy Page on guitar. 

ostensibly, Scarlet is exactly what it says on the box. which is the fruits of a jam session between some unquestionably talented musicians. one may assume something like "wow, Richards (or Richard if American, i have never understood that) and Page on the same record, this will be the greatest thing ever", but it isn't, as both have done considerably better. it's a solid enough rock song, but also nothing about it says we have been denied the chance to (legally and approved release wise) hear a great moment in rock history all these years. 

for me it is easily the case that the best aspect of Scarlet is the provenance. going on what is known, and this is radio interviews by Sir Mick and the unlikely to ever be knighted Jimmy Page, the tune was recorded in the basement (or cellar) of wherever it was that a certain Ronnie Wood resided at the time. this was prior to him (Ronnie) being taken on by the Stones as the work experience kid; an era when he was still the great lead guitarist with Faces. what causes me inexplicable (and irrational) humour is that Ronnie does not feature on the record. one has to assume that he was present when they did it, what with it being his house, but for some reason he wasn't permitted to "jam" or play along. maybe he was getting cups of tea (or similar) for his guests as they knocked this out, or perhaps h was just told to sit in a corner and let the grown ups do their thing. 

the other seven (7) tracks on the "bonus" disc two (2) of the deluxe Goats Head Soup set are variations of stuff on the album. i am absolutely not qualified to pick up on differences, but the "Glyn Johns" and "Alternative" mixes listed don't really sound all that different to my ears than what is on the album proper. bonus points, however, for the Heartbreaker casually listed as an "instrumental". as it turns out, this is a predominantly acoustic take of the track, presumably from early on in the composure stage and well before anyone thought to drown it in maxed out amps and dozens of wah wah pedals. the finished song itself is a masterpiece, but to hear how the basics of the groove were laid down is if not a revelation then certainly interesting. 

ultimately, this is a Stones record which i shall (from time to time) pick up and play from start to finish. the only others of theirs i am inclined to do similar with would be Let It Bleed and Tattoo You. other than that, playing some Stones would usually mean a greatest hits or best of thing, or one of the better set out live albums they have done. take that as you will, really. 

swathes of the record industry (perhaps correctly) see little value in any "new" music, for it is dire, for the most part streamed, unprofitable and decidedly disposable. maybe this deluxe Goats Head Soup is how things will work, then. after years of having repeated re-issues of known classic albums, it may well be time to revisit a record like this - one that isn't immediately named by anyone as an all time great, but that the years have been kind to and is full worth discovery or rediscovery. 

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

of south east trolley experience

hi there

of life, society, civilisations, culture and what have you, it has been said before that there is far more that we have in common than differences, look you see. we just for some reason always tend to dwell (focus, perhaps) on the different parts, and let them divide us. 

no, i am not going to kick off on one of them (most tiresome and very transient) social media so-called knee jerk reaction to whatever perceived offending thing has caused momentary, end of the world like outrage on twitter or similar. instead, let me look at a longer lingering example, the age old "north south" divide here in ostensibly the UK, but mostly England, since our friends in Scotland would like a general word about what we call "north". 

yes, it is true. guilty as charged. my understanding of anyone of the south, and that means from anywhere below the great Yorkshire (except Tipton, that sounds quite class), is that they are a shandy drinking southern softie, or even twat. and yet my (relatively) recent adventures, accidental or incidental, down in the area of the south east, has caused me to doubt that this is so. whilst it may well be that they drink shandy, and are a lot softer than we are, well, we have much in common. yes, also, twats exist in the north too. some might say you are reading the words of one of them, but no matter. 

it was particularly pleasing, an in many respects life affirming, to see that they, too, in the south east are gratified by the random generosity of some shops in providing free trolleys (trollies) for patrons to take home and do what they will with. should i have thought in advance, my assumption would be that them down in the south would have been far too posh, or all prim and proper, to indulge in the assumed charity of providing rudimentary metal devices for free. gladly i see so that this not. 

to be honest (as ever), the main revelation at seeing a couple of shopping trollies (trolleys) parked up at someone's house was that they had actual, proper shops down there. our (as in the north) understanding of shop requirements for people in the south is based on the news. we had been led to believe that everyone in "that London" basically lived on a diet of cocaine and ludicrously named forms of coffee, or dined on expensive nibbles from something called 'Pret'. also, breakfast was taken at things called gentrified cereal bistros, whatever the hell they are. not so, as it seems they also have normal shops like what normal people would use. 

chance permitted such, so i did indeed go into one or two of the shops that were familiar from home. whilst i braced for the worst, when i went in i found all was pretty much the same in them, even the pricing. you can, for example, get a decent pack of own brand custard creams from two of the leading supermarkets (Tesco and Morrisons) for south of 50p, meeting all known dietary requirements without in any way risking exposure to whatever this "gentrified" business is. 

sigh, i hear some of you say, for yes, the above is me (moi) doing one of those selfie things, spoiling an otherwise lovely view. no significance to the location or place, it just seemed really lovely. besides, for every one thousand (give or take) of you who would prefer not to see me, surely by accident at least one or two people looking at this don't object to seeing me or how i am getting on. 

not all with the trolleys (trollies) i saw was quite the same as up home in the north. whereas we have strong, industrial strength, workmanlike, hard as f*** ones, down in the south they did seem to be a bit more aesthetic and design fixated. these would probably not last long at home, but do seem sturdy enough for purpose in the much more tranquil approach to life in the self declared "garden of england". 

but what of economic activity with the free trolleys? or trollies, if that is the correct spelling. well, no, on my travels i did not see any great number of scrapyards. not one, as it happens, but then i was not looking for them. my guess would be that yes, they will, somewhere, in the south east have scrap metal merchants, and i am sure they will operate on the same principal of cash in hand, cash is tax free, no questions asked, nothing look suspicious when handing over coins of money in exchange for as many of these shopping trolley devices as anyone would care to bring to their lavish, often bespoke places of business. 

perhaps this is to state the obvious, but no, on first passing this arrangement i did not immediately notice the shopping trolley. something niggled the back of my mind, so i walked back, and looked on in astonishment at the subtle placing of it. truly, an inspirational (and of course impressive) way to make a trolley look as though it is a perfectly natural part of the environment. 

a persistent view i was presented with was that i would not care for the south east if i went. this blatantly turned out not to be the case at all, as i have commented in a few places now. just about all of it that i experienced was excellent, and we do indeed have much in common with our unknown friends down there. yes, i would very much like to go and experience all the more of it. who knows, if i do then maybe i shall fetch one of these southern versions of the shopping trolley back with me, so people can look at it and note the differences. 

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

keep coming up with love but it's so slashed and torn

g'day

and so a bit more from my accidental travels to the south east, look you see. to a place which, i suppose, came to be the south east by an accidental quirk of geography and all that. well, this is kind of about them travels. more so the travel of an item to a place what is even more south than the south east of England, and believe me yes, such does (indeed) exist. 

being one for tradition or indeed, i yield to the accusation, doing things that i have always done out of a sense of old fashioned but still makes sense, invariably on my travels i shall seek out and send postcards. a particularly distressing episode of my life came in the form of Dudley, where i could not find a single postcard of the place. when i expressed my torment at such to one shop proprietor, they explained that Dudley "wasn't really a tourist destination". that shall teach me not to go to Tipton instead, which i should have considering how fondly The Viz speaks of the place.  

moving back to places which do have postcards then, and i am (genuinely) delighted to say that there are an abundance of them available across the south east. well, the places of the south east where i went, which according to my google maps tracker thing (that i cannot recall switching on but anyway) is quite a few. not just the beach or coast bits, either, but also Canterbury. or, at least, Canterbury Cathedral. 

that there above is a postcard of Canterbury Cathedral what i tried to send to my sister, and indeed her whole family. well, did send, i suppose, and with some success. if only partial. as you can see, it certainly landed, in a way which was repackaged by New Zealand mail, or whatever it is the postal service down there calls itself. oh, it says in big letters New Zealand Post, now that i look, so my guess is that is what they call themselves. 

note, with interest, the non-traditional way in which the postcard arrived. this i take it as an effort by NZP (initials for New Zealand Post, so as to save some time) to make amends for their disgrace. oh yes, i do mean their disgrace. the postcard most certainly did not look like that when i sent it. also, Mum & Dad got theirs in a way that was undamaged.

what i like most about the extra packaging added to (presumably) protect the postcard from any further damage is the reason why such was necessary. they have, as i think you can see, a list of reasons as to why an item may be damaged. it is the rather non-committal nature of the red tick they have put on it, not being clear as to which reason they cite, which impresses me the most. mostly it looks like they are trying to suggest there was "insufficient packaging" in place. well, what packaging is normal for a postcard, exactly?

yes, the above image (a selfie, no less) exists purely to confirm the provenance of the postcard. if you for some reason were wondering where, exactly, it was that i obtained a postcard of Canterbury Cathedral from, then i am happy to state that i did indeed acquire such from within the grounds of Canterbury Cathedral. this i would have thought would be obvious, but no matter, happy to set the record straight. 

of course also, yes, it was by complete accident that i ended up in the grounds of Canterbury Cathedral. well, that or someone engineered it for me to be so, and for what reason they would do this i would not care to speculate about. but yes, i did attend under escort of some security types. this - being escorted in, around, about and out of premises by security staff - has indeed become something of a regular trend for me in the middle to business end parts of 2020. no, not by choice. 

do i have any thoughts, reflections or comments on Canterbury Cathedral? well, the aspects i saw were truly magnificent, and yes i would endorse any trip one could make to see. unfortunately i was not given quite so much time as perhaps one may have liked to consider the structure, what with me needing to do other things, and indeed the security i mentioned earlier being particularly keen, if not eager, for me to leave. 

in the above image you can get a greater sense of the damage done to the postcard. from what i can tell, some 15% - 20% of the card was quite nearly torn off. as point of fact on the reverse of that part, i think, was where i had attached an address sticker, all typed, so as to save the postal staff from a (presumably most ardent) wrestling match with my handwriting. maybe it is the sticker, as a quasi form of divine intervention, which held the card all together. 

presumably this card got knacked in one of their extravagant, sophisticated mail sorting machines. or, maybe, an easily provoked staff member of NZP (which is New Zealand Post) was quite angry with god for some reason or other, and believed that they were making an ill advised strike back at him by damaging this card. for what reason they would have been so angry is something i could not possibly speculate about, but i would rather have wished they left me, my sister, her family and (specifically) this postcard out of the quarrel, thank you.

well, anyway, i am off to go and find some people who(m) i disagree with on certain subjects and accuse them of being French (or similar). 

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

berry

hello there

something of a universal truth is that every generation (or more frequently than such) going through every level of school has that one kid. that kid. one who will do the peculiar, the odd, the strange; that one thing which resonates as a tale to be spoken of as legend. in earnest, it is so that one, look you see, can only hope that they do not become so, or witness their offspring become such. 

this thought came to mind (for where else would a thought reside) as i made one of several observations, perhaps tacitly (except for the part that i am now writing it), during my travels through this life. once more, then, at least, i have noted something seen and probably spent far too long considering it. 

yes. i was indeed in one of those desolate, discarded, decaying and long since abandoned industrial estates; the form of which the north east is profligate in (or with), and yet does not cease to construct more of them. full long it had been since this, like so many others, had seen the promise of prosperity give way to the treachery of time. 

what struck me of this one (somewhat) was that whole nature finds a way thing, the sense that life cannot ever truly be void, no matter how much we strive and seek to do so. here, as you can see in the greater glory of Commodore 64 mode above, and even clearer below i suppose, some forms of berries have grown within the weeds which seek to imprison the folly of these fabled factory lands. 

alas, i am no botanist or similar, so can tell you nothing further of these berries beyond they seemed to be of the red and of the black kind. further, also no, as i had no wish to experiment, i cannot advise whether these were of an edible cultivation or not. everything of circumstance and environment said probably not, but that primordial instinct each of us carries in a latent way did mean the question crossed my mind. 

every school generation, then, would have been blessed with (at least) that one kid whose curiosity would have won the day and, on seeing these, no doubt would have taken the direct approach to gaining an understanding of whether or not they were edible. legend has it that, once, Bez, on a school trip, saw some wild mushrooms and sought to see if they could be eaten safely. the rest of how that went is exceptionally well known. 

not a great deal here for me to add, really. just rather striking to see something insisting on growing despite the place being abandoned. nature, life, finds a way, there is always hope, etc. 

oh, for clarity, disclaimer, warning or what have you, if you find anything like the above, my advice is that you do not test them to see if they are edible. rather leave them for the birds, or other forms of wildlife, or for that kid. 

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

quite comfortable reading

hello reader

for those of you who for some reason read these posts of mine in a chronological fashion, yes indeed this is quite late. normally i would, look you see, reflect on books that i have read towards the end of any given month. not so for August, for a number of reasons. well, two - i was doing a lot of stuff, in particular travelling, which did not allow for much time to read, and the second of the two books i read was somewhat longer than the average 400 page ones i tend to pick up. 

but, we are here now. and (as usual) it is two books i have read since i last did a post of this nature. not just one, and not as many as three, or even five. just the two then. ones which had a familiarity which led to easy, most agreeable reading, but more on that later. 

in furtherance of sticking with tradition (or just how i do these things), yes, an image of the two books i read, complemented by some as spoiler free as possible comments. as for the actual, possibly containing spoiler comments, this is the first time i shall be trying a post of this nature with the brand new blogger interface. i am simply unsure as to if i will still be able to lay it all out as i once did. 

actually, to "mix things up" a bit, so as to try and keep it interesting, the provenance (which for some reason seems important to some of you) for both of these novels is Tesco, and they were, at the time of purchase, their "book of the week" thing. which means each cost me £3.50 a go. well, i think, actually one of them (the second) might have been just £3. anyway, great value. 

it was so that The Liar by Steve Cavanagh wasn't quite so twisty and turny as the previous two novels i had read by him, but remained very good indeed. as for The Institute, this was superb, vintage, grade a Stephen King stuff - a, as someone already else said on the cover, masterpiece. 

right, i am going to have to fiddle about with the formatting a touch, see if i can't work out how to have the text align (or wrap around) the images of each novel, how i used to like doing things, but the new, more better, improved blogger seems reluctant to let me do. for you, in the interim, both novels are excellent and worth reading, and a *** SPOILER WARNING *** for safety now kicks in. well, no, now, or at least in the next bit of writing. 

oh, lovely, it looks like, at last, it shall let me do it. the last time i tried it did not, and i can only hope this looks decent on your side of all of this. 

having dispensed with matters of provenance (see above), we can move straight on to plot. once again the ostensible protagonist is Eddie Flynn, hustler turned lawyer. you don't really have to have read all the stories in sequence before getting to any of them, but somewhat obviously each successive contains details of previous ones. it is very much to my regret that i did not start at the beginning.

for this one, The Liar, Eddie is called upon for assistance by an old friend. he needs someone who can both be a lawyer and a hustler, which is often exactly when Eddie Flynn gets called in on a job. in this instance, there is a rather complex and mostly messy kidnapping, with Eddie (or Flynn, if you like calling people by their surname) required to pull off some variations of blags, sleights of hand and similar to make sure it all works. it does not, alas, all go quite so well as anyone had hoped. at the same time, Eddie is served with a subpoena, or one of them things where you have to be in court, in relation to a charge against another friend of his, with the charge being wilful neglect and not providing a decent defence for a client. the two matters do not seem to be particularly connected, but..........

to be blunt, this was not as good as Thirteen. no surprise there, for that was one of the best, most clever and ingenious novels i have read. mostly it is almost as good as the one by the same author i read after that, Twisted. either it is so that i am now somewhat cleverer than i was or (and this is where my money lands in a wager) the writer got a little of the fatigue with creating stuff, for the twists and turns here were pretty easy to both see coming and successfully work out before they landed. kind of. 

and yet despite that, or maybe even consequentially, this was rather comfortable reading. not comfortable in the sense of content, for again this was quite dark, sometimes scary and remained very much suspenseful. the notion of comfort comes from an immediate familiarity with the central character, or if you like protagonist, and the immensely enjoyable writing style. sometimes one reads a book that is tough work but you wish to pursue it, sometimes one reads a novel from a sense of, well, i bought it and started it so here we are. sheer pleasure is the reason to keep reading this. 

so, on to the one which partially caused the delay with my updates on reading here. that would be the most recent work by (somewhat) legendary author Stephen King to be made available in paperback, The Institute. 

since issues of provenance have been addressed. limitations on discussing plot are now gone. predominantly, then, the plot concerns a young lad called Luke, who is remarkably intelligent and appears blessed with gifts some would consider supernatural. certain authoritarian figures are quite aware of the latter and so, as they have done with many children over many years, abduct him, so as to place him in a place known as the institute, where he is to carry out unspecified work. at the same time as this as quasi drifting chap called Tim, a former copper, ends up in a small town and stays for a while. it would seem unlikely that their paths would cross.......

let us be honest here (as i would like to think is always so), there is nothing new being offered up. much, if not all, of the plot, and for that matter elements of the story, borrows liberally from things seen, read or heard before - often previously from Stephen King. but, in words most commonly attributed to Bono, it's not what you steal, it's what you do with it. and what gets done here is that a wonderful, dark, absorbing, compelling story is created. this really was brilliant. 

yes, indeed, so children are once again at the centre of the horror threads woven by the author. a good friend recently reminded me of something, how (once) Stephen King was asked why he hated children. his response was along the lines of "but, i love them? i have three myself. in my study, in jars, perfectly preserved". leaving aside the linear logic of that, i am confident that you do not need me to draw attention to the metaphorical value of horror placing children in harm. aside (if one can) from the fear parents naturally have, wise, philosophical words are that when children are harmed, it is us wrecking our own future. and so much of The Institute takes this concept as a point of departure.

no, let me not speak (too much) further of it, for fear of "spoiling" what awaits anyone who elects to read this magnificent novel. i really should pick up more Stephen King books. the last one i read, prior to this, was, if memory serves, Doctor Sleep. all too well i can recall considering how brilliant it was, and that i should make the effort to read more of his. that was some 7 or 8 years ago, so if i remain on form and i last that long, roll on 2027 or 2028, then. 

as ever i can truly have no clear idea if any of this has been of some form of interest or value to any of you. from what i can work out there is indeed a kind of comments section, but so few of you use it, and seldom so. maybe it is just them "bot" things looking at all of this, or people here merely to pilfer the pictures. hey ho, writing it gives me something to do, so here we are. 

my fingers remain steadfast and resolute in being crossed with the hope that such a gesture of wishing for luck delivers the formatting i hoped for in the above. but, if not, well, i did my best. 

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

gonna get the faculty together

howdy pop pickers

indeed, this is another valiant (or vague) attempt to honour that commitment i made to not write of something pertaining to David Bowie once a month for a while. or, in some instances, twice a month, look you see. but, you never know, this - even if by accident - might be useful or interesting in a way which goes further than simply indulging my passion and obsession. although yes, in fairness, it would be moi writing this, so what else is it i must write of. 

some time ago (as in the past, rather than the future, this has happened) i made a purchase. nothing particularly new or out of the ordinary there. also, not even that it was a tape what i bought is all that surprising, truly, what with most new releases once again being made (legally) available in this much cherished format. well, cherished by some of us; them of us what can remember how tape gave us the new experience of the freedom to listen to quality vibes on the go, or anywhere. 

my interest in, and purchase of, this tape was not really for reasons to do with the tape itself. whilst it seemed to be a splendid, if unspecified, tape (more on that in a bit), it was that which came with the cassette, or on it (on the box) which took my fancy, grabbed my interest and (very easily, admittedly) persuaded me to purchase. 

yes, for something of a change, more tin machine stuff from me. no, it is not november, or the fifth of november, yet (at least not at time of writing, i have no control over when you read this), so not my regular tin machine musings. although the one in place for later this year does indeed echo some of what this is all about. 

to be specific, and there is nothing negatively pedantic about wishing for such, it is (ostensibly) a cassette single of the second single released in furtherance of promoting the Tin Machine II album, with that particular recording (or "cut") being Baby Universal. interestingly enough, it is paired, as a sort of quasi b-side, with You Belong In Rock N Roll, the first single released ahead of the album. 

both of these are mighty fine songs, and quite a few would argue the case for them being the two finest on the album. i wouldn't immediately disagree, but i shall forever have a soft spot for One Shot, since that's what the band opened the concert what i (and a friend, and some other people) saw. to be honest, it is so that this recently (at long last) made available again album features several songs which do not bear Hunt Sales as the lead vocalist, and so selecting the "best" of them is a bit academic, if not moot. 

on purchasing this cassette i was not sure which versions, exactly, of either of the two songs listed i was to get. for fans of provenance, a more correct expression may be that i won the auction rather than engaged in a straightforward transaction, so that should tell you where i found it. with regards to a comprehensive provenance statement, off hand i do not recall the final fee paid. my thinking is that i would have considered this very nice to have, but the nice level was finite in terms of amount prepared to pay. more than likely that finite level would be £10, so no doubt i paid somewhere south of that figure, if not too much south. 

it is so that you can sort of (kind of) see the song information on the inlay picture above, assuming that you do not simply get distracted, understandably so, by the picture of the boys in the band. or rather, a slight lack of information. yes, the songs are listed, but no, it does not indicate which versions of them. as it turned out, neither are the "album" versions of the song. the a-side is the 7" edit of Baby Universal, with the what is technically the b-side being the "special long" or "extended" mix of You Belong In Rock N Roll. quite a nice plus, that latter one, as it is relatively rare, featuring on only one of the CD singles and, so far as i am aware, the 12" single released. 

however lovely, wonderful or interesting (to some) the above may very well be, precisely none of it was the motivation for purchase. no, instead, that was for something on the case, or box, of the cassette. very much an instance of my magpie eyes are hungry for the prize, or otherwise a natural proclivity to be drawn to shiny things. shiny things which are tricky to capture in an image without some sort of reflection, but i have tried my best. 

presumably as a "play on name" marketing thing, so as best to promote a band called tin machine they went ahead and made a tin, or metal, plaque or plate to attach to the cassette single. and a quite decent one too, not that i am an expert on such materials (or elements). mindful of this tape, and box, now being, at time of writing, some 29 (twenty nine) years old (!!), it has remained in very good, perhaps even excellent, condition. sure, that could come down to it being well looked after over the years, but then it has to have been of a quality that it was possible to preserve in the first instance 

why did i not purchase this at the time? because i had no idea it existed. nor did any such knowledge of it existing ever come to be mine, or in my possession, until i did a random, infrequent search on the subject of bowie, or in this instance tin machine, to see if there was anything which caught my eye. and this of course very much did. 

as you can (and this may be optimistic of me) hopefully make out, the metal plaque on the cassette does indeed feature the same image from the Tin Machine II album cover, which caused some perhaps needless controversy. it is the (relatively) famous kroisos kouros statue of greek provenance. more can be read of the statue here, and the controversy surrounding use here. 

now that i think on, or simply have paused for thought to reflect on the matter, i did indeed get knacked for arriving at college wearing a concert t-shirt featuring this statue. it was obscene, apparently. hey ho. i am assuming that if the band (but let us be honest, Bowie) had elected to use a similar statute but of a lady it would not have raised quite so many eyebrows or caused quite so much distress. 

to try and keep all of my usual comments on the subject of tin machine as and when it crops up in one convenient paragraph, no, the band were not "rubbish" or similar, that's just lazy journalists. generally, a view held is that tin machine's demise, much like how it came into being, was the whim of Bowie, who was reported as being disappointed with poor sales, or just bored. those in the know, however, have always indicated that it was Tony and Hunt sales who walked, apparently frustrated with the "softer" pop songs (such as Baby Universal and You Belong In Rock N Roll) they were doing, and somewhat disappointed with their royalties kick. of the latter, well, they were not exactly the first musicians to part ways with Bowie with a similar sense. 

what's the sound quality like of the tape itself? very, very good indeed. much like the box and the case (and the plaque thing), it had clearly been looked after. but, also, it's a high quality tape recording to start off with. 

for some reason there's always been an idea floated, or circulated, that the sound (audio) quality of a tape is considerably lower than, say, a compact disc or vinyl record. well, yes, there are a lot of poor, cheaply made tapes out there, and not so good cassette decks. get your hands on a well made tape and a decent player (note, not always the most expensive), and quality vibes are yours. 

but also no, i am uncertain or unsure as to why tape has experienced a revival. it is a revival i have funded, purchasing certain albums in this presumed to be obsolete format as and when they come up, and are of an attractive price. as in, Rolling Stones please note, north of £8 is not getting bought. no matter how nostalgic or fond i may for the days of tape, it remains so that the best "personal stereo", being defined as a small easy to carry device with headphones, i have ever used is the iPod. so of course Apple went right ahead and stopped making them. 

i am quite sure, confident indeed, that the above image represents the entirety of my tin machine singles collection. so far as i can recall there are none missing. yes, just the two singles off of the second album, with only one being in any sort of conventional packaging. the tape is kind of conventional, but the metal (tin) plaque thing on the front is certainly not flat or "streamlined", so it is a bit tricky to store in a standard way. 

none of the singles from the first, self titled (titular) tin machine album? only one of the three they released for that record, the song Tin Machine from the album of the same name by the band of the same name, was one i liked, and it being on the album struck me as being totes sufficient. perhaps one day i will pick up that single, just because, but presently it tends to exchange hands for north of £20, so that day is not likely to be soon. 

unsure as to who(m) any of this might have been of interest (passing or specific) to, but if that's you, well then nice one, and thank you for having a gander and a read. 

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

laptop for scale

07734

yes, indeed, look you see. the above is no error, or typo, or sign of a new numbering system for these posts. no. for a generation (or two or three) of us, it was so that the above number on a calculator with the display turned upside down made it look like you had written "hello". except a 4 on this internet thing is not the variation which looks like an upside down "h" as you would get on a calculator, so it perhaps was foolish of me to try and recreate it here.

for many people the specific, dedicated, that is all it does calculator is now obsolete. anyone wishing to do any sort of actual calculation would probably do so on the calculator function on their so-called smart phone, or on a computer, or get the result off of an internet. increasingly, though, it is so that we don't really use specific calculations for precise answers, as everyone is far more interested in feelings and opinions being accepted instead of facts. such is the world we made. 

it was particularly wonderful, then, when i came to learn that young William had, in his wisdom, elected to persuade his mother, my (presently the last time i looked) (considerably) better half, to purchase him a traditional calculator. but then no, not just any calculator. whereas i cannot say it is the biggest calculator in the world, it is certainly the largest i can recall ever seeing. or encountering, if you will excuse the quasi play on words. 

maybe not many, but several of you may well have spotted the familiar, much cherished Sports Direct branding on the calculator. that is indeed the answer to any questions of provenance you may have. but, to go further, i do believe i saw a £7 price sticker on it. 

the proprietor of Sports Direct is, but of course, renowned philanthropist and respected humanitarian Mike Ashley. should for some reason (and i cannot think why this would be so) you find yourself looking for the fastest way possible to get your head kicked in, then it would be to go to Newcastle and speak ill of the man. he is known there, with affection, as "wor Mike" or "our Ashley", and the only reason they have not built a statue of him to honour all he has done is because short sighted municipality administrators refuse to let them build one what is bigger than the Angel of the North. that is how much he, and his entire cockney mafia, are treasured.

but we are not here, as tempting as it is to do precisely that, to celebrate the man behind the calculator. rather, we are here to assess the calculator itself. doing so requires some speculative looks at aspects of it, to see if one gets any practical benefit from ownership, as well, indeed as a consideration of whether or not it offers value for money. 

a major, significant plus (again, please excuse the rather poor pun) is how many units you can have on display. many of the conventionally sized calculators on the market have a limitation, allowing one to type in numbers of only eight or nine units. above, shadowed by the glory of the Sports Direct logo, you can indeed see that twelve units are deftly handled by the larger than usual display section of this particular calculator. 

many of you will, i suspect, be keen to interject about this. whereas yes, true, that gives this massive calculator a significant edge over the more traditional sized ones, that unit count is an insignificant limitation which one does not need to trouble themselves with if they use a phone or a computer to do whatever calculation it is they are doing what needs such a massive number to be part of it. and indeed you would be correct to make such an interjection. if i am using interject and variations of the word in the correct context here. 

hopefully the above "screenshot" thing of the calculator what my phone has on it sates, or settles, the thirst some of you shall have to proclaim that the functionality on a "smart" phone allows for more characters than the massive Sports Direct one. indeed, i could have carried on typing a presumably infinite (or close enough) number of, well, numbers, but the above was the maximum which could be displayed on screen at any given time. 

so as to provide some balance, though, as you can see the phone calculator does not have the upside down "h" looking variation of the number 4. in terms of being able to write "hello" or, and this is really going old school i suppose, "shelloil" (71077345) on the calculator display screen, the big massive calculator off of Sports Direct has the triumph. 

does the above mean to imply, or overtly state, that i am an advocate of this particular calculator? not really, not really no. i mean, yes, there is a practical market for such an item i suppose, but it is one which is quite niche and limited rather than exclusive. should you wish to have only a basic, rudimentary calculator but be quite taken with the aesthetics and shape of a laptop, well, then, this calculator is ideal for you, both in terms of costs and, thanks (in part) to the bespoke solar panel on it, battery longevity. 

in order for you to make a fair and reasonable comparison, for scale, then, above is the calculator sat on top of a quite conventional, rudimentary 17" display laptop. when i speak of it being a big massive calculator, there it is illustrated for you, and i am sure there can be little argument of how it is indeed much larger than a regular calculator. 

overall, what are my thoughts and feelings on having such a calculator available and within access in the house? there is a degree of indifference. some mild amusement was drawn at the first sight of it. moving on from that, i showed William how to write the basics on it, being hello, shelloil and lee. now it is my earnest view that any future (or further) touching of the device shall be less centred on solving mathematically dilemmas, more on simply moving it out of the way. the calculator is essentially a refreshing change from them absolutely enormous mugs what Sports Direct sell, and would appear likely to be used just as frequently as one of them.

with the festive season ebbing ever closer, the fee commanded by Sports Direct for this calculator, and once again that is (at time of publication) £7 (i think), a major attraction for this is as a workplace gift idea for anyone who does all that "Secret Santa" business. normally the price cap for such random presents is £10, so you could come in £3 south of budget with this. 

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

some variation of benson

 heya

yes, indeed, this is one of them posts, look you see. a disclaimer, then, since it seems (and no doubt is) the right thing to do. smoking is a quite silly thing to do, and one should not do it, if they are able to avoid it. please, then, do not see this post as any effort or attempt to influence or endorse anyone to do such.

on my (fairly) recent adventure to the south east of our nation it was so that, from time to time, i felt compelled, or indeed obliged, to reflect on life for a moment. to do so, i did indeed find it most agreeable to have a cigarette (they are bad for you do not do it) at the same time, bringing all sorts of efficiency and good time management to it all. not that there is all that much to consider of my life, but still, anyway, you get the point. 

most frequently, as is the case with much of my life, i did so alone. there are not all that many of us smokers left, to be sure. but, actually, i have noted (observed, even) it being so that the further south you travel in (down) our nation, the more smokers you find. and, indeed, how much greater the habit is tolerated. 

this would be quite (as in very) boring if the tale was just of me, sat alone, wondering where it all went wrong, smoking. it is not such a tale at all, for one episode of such proved to be provided with some unexpected, and quite generous, company. 

as i sat, generally (or casually) considering how very welcome it was that an evening breeze was clearing some of the humidity i found to be a very real thing in the south east, a car pulled up. not uncommon for a hotel, i think you may find. three late teen, maybe early twenties (i am terrible at guessing such, which shall be of relevance) lads got out, whereas a forth parked the car up. on passing me they noted i was smoking, and commented that this was good. they asked me if i would wish to have another cigarette. i said that was very kind, but as presently i was smoking one such an offer would presently be declined. 

it was so that this response saddened them. not quite my intention or wish, of course, but all the same they looked, well, upset. to ease this, they then insisted that i take some cigarettes for later on. being versed in the customs and laws of the English way of doing things, i assented to this offer. for this, i was presented with variations of benson and hedges blue cigarettes. well, variations in respect of some regular king size ones, and some "super king" size ones. 

when considering the extravagant cost of cigarettes, mostly due to the obscene tax placed on them, and that tax has recently increased so i can guess who it is that Rishi and Boris have decided is now going to be paying for the invisible war on the new plague, this was most generous. and very greatly appreciated indeed, nice one lads. 

just what business did these lads have at the hotel? that would be a matter not of my concern. but, as it happens, the subject arose in conversation. apparently, and this level of responsibility is to be applauded, when it is so that they went to town on the lash, they checked into a hotel for the evening, using taxis to get to and from where it was they went to, if this term is still used, "party". doing it this way, they found, meant no concerns over driving, and no distress caused at home when they returned rather late and potentially rowdy, or with other guests. 

presumably this is rather a formality, but yes, then, this did indeed enhance my view that the place of England called the south east is simply fabulous. generally the south has a reputation for being mean, nasty and unfriendly. my suspicion is that when people say this, by "south" they actually mean London (innit), which does have a reputation for being a city full of people who do not speak to each other, except in instances that they feel compelled to shout at one or another for some indiscretion. 

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

nothing is planned by the sea and the sand

hey there

it is an (almost) universal truth (mostly) accepted that all forms of change get greeted with resistance. this comes from belligerence, sure, and an instinct to rebel, but for the most part it is simply that we, the people, don't like change. consistency is a comfort. 

one instance of this which came to mind is, or was, that of these wind turbine things. sorry, i have a decided sense of deja vu, and may well have covered this before. hey ho, i took some pictures and a video (which i think new, improved blogger has once again tilted sideways), so here we are again. 

full well it is i remember that time (the 80s, no less) when the idea of placing wind turbines, in furtherance of supplying electricity or what have you (with the what have you there being understood as electricity) to our great and proud nation. oh no, people said, loudly, although not on "social media" for we didn't have it. these wind turbines would be an eyesore, a veritable blight on the landscape and ruin the way our world looks. 

jump to be here now, and the general consensus (well, Dad thinks so) is that they are things of beauty, aesthetically pleasing, valuable to the preservation of our world and a quite remarkable engineering achievement. it is not so that something which was at first resisted has now been embraced. the Angel Of The North, for instance, was greeted with derision and cries of "what a waste of money" at the time. 

yes, the above picture, and the below video, were all taken on a quite overcast and exceptionally windy day, at an unspecified point of the north east coast. and when i say unspecified, yes, Redcar. i was there for reasons i am unable to disclose, but there i was.

once again, as has (sadly) been the case for posts recently, my apologies if that video is sideways, or rotated all wrong. this fancy new la-de-dah blogger "interface" means i can't upload the pictures as i want, and it knacks the videos. wonderful improvement, cheers. 

there was that thing they used to do on Top Gear (the proper one, with them three twats before one of them punched someone or other) where they would visit an area of natural beauty and then blow up a petrol tanker (or similar) to see what happened. inspired by this, and presuming to have a similar effect, yes, a selfie. 

should i recall correctly, as well as being "ugly", these wind turbines were never ever going to be able to produce enough energy, and the cost would always outweigh their value. going on what limited understanding i have of things i see on the news, i believe it is the case that those claims have proven to be incorrect. good. 

well, anyway, that's that. 

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