a return to books

hello reader

well, blimey. it feels like a fair bit of time, look you see, since i gone done a post on some reading what i have done. november, i believe, was the last instance. hey ho, here we are now, so off we go. 

as (at least was) usual, then, i have not finished reading just one, or as many as three or even four novels since the last such post of this nature, but two. yes, i have taken unusually longer than normal; i have been busy with a few matters. 

to stick with the tradition of such things (if i may call it such), a glance at the covers of what i read, followed by a quick, as spoiler free as possible overview. indeed, if this was such a tradition or set thing, then no, probably, i would have no need to write this each time. oh. 

right, starting where i did (and from left to right), The Pretender's Gold is (yet) another Ben Hope adventure thing off of Scott Mariani. what number? up in the late teens, i believe. as for how it performs, not one of the greatest adventures, but certainly above average. quite a fun read. moving on and The Other People is the third novel off of CJ Tudor, and thus the 3rd of hers what i have read, and to be honest was excellent but also very f*****g scary and disturbing. not a novel for all eyes. 

ok, the above should be of some (if only marginal) use to those of you what are in a rush, and/or prefer to avoid spoilers (as careful as i try to tread with such). which can only mean that what follows is a look at each in some more detail, and depending on your sensitivity levels it might be of benefit to you to consider a *** SPOILER WARNING *** as being in place. 

so, as already mentioned (saying again in case your short term memory is as knacked as mine), the one i started off with, of these two at the least, was The Pretender's Gold off of Scott Marianai. highly likely that the only authors i have read more works of than this writer would be Anthony Burgess, John Grisham and i am not sure how many Michael Crichton wrote in the end. 

provenance of my copy? well, in truth, it was a father's day gift. it seems the Scott Mariani business model revolves around two being published a year, one in time for father's day gifts and then one in time for "oh that will do for dad" Christmas shopping. generally, the one off of father's day i hold off on reading until late autumn or early winter descends, as that just feels like the right time of year to read them. oh, yes, i do have the one published after this sat here, a Christmas gift. but indeed this shall be have been off of Tesco, for £3 or £3.50.

but what of the plot? does this novel, by any chance, find frequent protagonist Ben Hope by chance in a preposterous set of improbable circumstances, where his amazing skills are what allow him to triumph against all possible odds? yes, absolutely. which is smart, as that is what makes it all so much fun. especially how he smokes so much as he does so. 

in this instance, or episode (or adventure) the backdrop is kind of (in a quasi sense of way) that rather sensitive and delicate subject of Scottish nationalism. which is highly right wing in nature, and yet thanks to some inspired marketing gets passed off as being very left wing. but, anyway, this is just a backing track to a tale of greed, circulating on a mythical, legendary treasure which was attributed to Bonnie Prince Charlie, that turns up, and of course people want it and will kill for it. an old friend of Ben Hope (for a lonely man he sure has a lot of friends) gets inadvertently tangled up in it, which of course upsets Ben a great deal, and so off he goes (or here he comes) to rescue and twat away. 

enormous fun, it all is then. yes, sure, one could get picky and say all these stories are formulaic or some other term intended to be diplomatically unkind, but that's just for them what like to take absolutely everything seriously. people like being entertained, you know, and giving them what they like again and again in a slightly different way tends to do this. to this end, consider James Bond, and how virtually every decent Star Wars thing has essentially just jiggled the same plot a bit. sure, it is so that one or two Ben Hope books have been exceptionally stupid (the one where someone was going to cut the planet in half with a laser), but this is one that is "implausible, a trifle predictable but generally good fun reading". hesitate not in giving it a go. 

i picked up The Other People mostly as it will have been (note please, provenance fans) one of them Tesco "book of the week" things, being at the time £3 or £3.50. they now appear to have shoved it up to £4 for such, but will know to drop it when they observe they don't get so many coins off of me. another motivation, however, will have been how excellent CJ Tudor's first novel, Chalk Man, was. i can barely recall the name of her second, but for some reason seemed to think it was good, even though i cannot recall much of the plot, either. 

anyway, this one. it's a right belter of a cracker, too. you had a spoiler warning, but to be safe or to be sure, you may wish to just cease reading here and go get the book. unless you have already, which would make it feel rather strange that you are reading this anyhow. 

there is a chap who(m) has had great tragedy befall, in the form of his wife and child being brutally, and senselessly, murdered. except a chance sighting suggests to, or tells, him that somehow his daughter is alive, inexplicably "kidnapped". few who know him will believe him, and his past sins play a part in such. strangers, one in particular, seem to believe him with no question. as he searches, relentlessly, for his daughter, the phrase 'the other people' keeps recurring in what he finds......

more i could say, but i am very reluctant to. for some reason i tend to find that the better i find a novel then the less i have to say of it, except to repeat how excellent it was. what more can i say that this was genuinely engaging, often tense, quite spooky and frightening in places and, well, very good indeed.

well, that's about that, then. yes, i would have every intention of reading more novels and of course, in an almost obligatory way, making notes here. but, for the moment, i am on a brief hiatus off of reading. oh, i have plenty of novels, believe you me, say here, i am just temporarily busy with other stuffs of things. 

once more, as usual, if any of this has been of remote interest to anyone, nice one. many thanks indeed for stopping by and reading!

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

kettle

hello there

indeed, it is (most decidedly so) that here we are, at what is (at least) the second post of this month which by chance relates to what one may call domestic appliances, look you see. we are, however, removed from the glory of the industrious washing machine, though. perhaps you have picked up on this from the title, but if not, a new kettle has been obtained, and so it should be celebrated here. 

no harm, i must stress, befell or visited the previous kettle. motivations and reasons for the acquisition, or if you will purchase, of another cannot, regrettably, be disclosed at this stage. fear not a lack of such knowledge, rather just appreciate that what is known. 

many of you get unduly but not unreasonably distracted by a thirst for specific information regarding any new purchase i make, with particular (but by no means exclusive) focus on the provenance. very well. this is, as you can presumably tell from the greater glory and good of Commodore 64 mode image above, a jet black branded kettle, purchased off of Tesco for an agreeable price which was centrally north of £20 yet south of £30. 

with regards to costing, in terms of United Kingdom price index stuff, the £25 price (which i am confident you worked out was the actual, real term cost) places this kettle in the central middle class, borderline bourgeois range of such appliances. to this end, those who are in a respectable way classed as being of the working class, such as coal miners or low level civil servants, may purchase a rudimentary similar device for less than half the cost. on, or at, the other end of the class structure of our nature, the elite, the landed gentry and lottery winners may indeed spend two, three or indeed several times more coins of money on a kettle which would essentially do the same job, just with a higher cost for no immediately obvious reason. 

do, or would, i consider (classify) myself as "middle class", then? or in some way bourgeois? it is not really the place of one to declare their status, in truth. rather let others attribute your class status, so that they may let some time from any given day pass in an agreeable way, drawing satisfaction by means of casually judging others. but, that said, i do indeed own at least one (1) Dire Straits album on compact disc format. back in the 80s this was enough for one to be declared a "class traitor" and pegged you as a member of the middle class. should such measurements still be used today, and i suspect that this is not the case, well, there you have it. 

yes, truly, above you are indeed seeing one of them "animated" gif things, in the greater good and glory of Commodore 64 mode, of the kettle in action. that is indeed my finger switching it on; please refrain from copying my fingerprint off of it for fraudulent or any such naughty activities. as you can see, when activated the kettle has a "business end red" light, which differs from the subtle, gentle blue light what has been on most (or at least the one we had) kettles available in the UK for the last couple of decades or so. more on this aspect later on. 

since we are in the realm of colour, however, let us ride with it. this would be partially non non-linear in terms of how i would normally (or usually) write, but once again, here we are. no immediate clarity on why this kettle is named, or described (actually both) as "jet black". an obvious answer is that this is where the black used on it falls in the shade chart on official colour guides. the rather more speculative of us may well instead ponder as to if it is in fact named such as a tribute to Jet Black out of The Stranglers, who you would imagine has used a kettle at some stage (probably not when drumming, though) to make a cup of tea, or similar. or maybe the naming of this kettle is a well intended but controversial effort to associate itself with the celebrated, most famous geology rock thing off of Whitby. all i can say with certainty is that, from what i can see, the colour of the kettle is indeed black. 

how does it perform? as in, does it do what one would reasonably expect a kettle to do? if we assume, even if just for the moment, that your expectation, or should you be more brash demand, of a kettle is that it should boil water, the answer is an unequivocal yes. so, or thus, far, it has been that on a couple of occasions i have filled this kettle with water (out of a tap, but if you have the budget for it by all means go right ahead and use a posh bottle variation of this), boiled it and made myself a cup of tea or coffee (pronounced "coyfie" in certain areas of America). each instance has been agreeable and, if i may say so, satisfactory. 

up to now, no, i have not used the produce of this kettle (boiled water) to do any of the other things what one might use boiled water for. my imagination stretches as far as thinking this would be to make some pot noodles, perhaps, or one of them "cup a soup" things. or gravy, i suppose. anything really which commences in a quite predominantly powder state and requires the addition (or blending, if you are keen on marketing trends) of boiling water to mix or otherwise transform it. 

right, time to address the aspects of this kettle some may consider to be controversial. yet, also, the elements of it which many would say are progressive and good. it is not for me to judge or in any way determine who you are from the basis of what you say to this. a glimpse of the new future for the UK is held within this kettle, as it embraces the fact that it is sold to a nation no longer bound by EU restrictions, requirements and (importantly) limitations. 

one would not, i suspect, need me to tell you or anyone that the UK is no longer part of the EU. this was a change widely agreed upon, and the transition went really, really smoothly and all is good. well, if you say it on the internet then it must be true. many say, or scream (in particular on social media) that they fail to see any benefits of this "Brexit" business, and yet here they are in this kettle. 

a first, practically obvious difference with this kettle and one which is made to comply with the millions of rules and regulations what the EU come up with, often for no apparent reason, is the capacity. it is enormous, or if you like massive. after much (expensive) deliberation, the EU (probably) placed strict limits on the amount of water one may boil at one instance, so as to save some energy and ultimately costs, enabling the funding of perpetual bail outs for member states what are not as clever with coins of money as very nearly as many as two of the current nation states involved in it all are. since the UK is no longer obliged to follow such commandments, and is also perfectly capable of both producing energy and managing finances (kind of), we are free to jolly well boil as much water as we blooming well like, any time we want. 

further, boil fast, too. it is so that this post-EU kettle has a strong, powerful and loud boiling mechanism, or engine, or element, whatever is the correct one to say. under EU regulations, and i believe or assume this was down to the French, harsh limitations were placed on how powerful any domestic appliance should be. the benchmark was a top end (if such a thing exists) citoren car, and nothing one would use in the house could be more powerful that that. which is why for the last few years we have suffered inept vacuum cleaners woefully lacking in power, and quiet, middling kettles which get there eventually. now we can have the beauty of armed and fully operational proper British engineering and power in these devices. splendid. 

lights, too, to reflect back on an earlier point. infamously, the EU (and once again probably the French) decided that lightbulbs could not be too bright, for being so would use too much energy, and also allow people to see just how dire (France) some places really were. once more, presumably, that restriction is gone, which is how come this kettle is allowed to have such an ace bright red light on it to show that it is functioning. 

the light being red is, in itself, also another important aspect of departure from the EU which many may have not noticed or noted. as mentioned earlier, we have had to contend with softer, smoother shades of light on appliances, usually a relaxing blue. one would be find it difficult to doubt that this is yet another instance of French influence, for they probably consider red to be too aggressive or scary. well, we don't, and so now we can have any colour we like for the light on a kettle, thanks. 

quite a lot of this kettle, then, is symbolic of how we may now live in a way what is free of EU rules and regulations, or to be honest about it without worrying so much about what might upset or cause distress for the French. lovely. sure, there is a partial temptation to call them "French tw@ts", but that is rather harsh. besides, it would be a bit like saying "reflective mirror", would it not? by definition a mirror reflects, ergo the idea of suggesting the French are some descriptive word mentioned earlier. 

would i say that i am satisfied, or pleased, with this kettle, in terms of relevant value for money and it doing all that it was purchased to do? yes. i think that is the view which comes across the most in all of the above writing on the subject. sure, there was some subtle moments of departure to say things like, or akin, to "f*** off Frenchie", but do not be distracted by such. this is a lovely kettle which, on my experiences so far, one could buy with confidence.

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

ripples two years (or so) later

howdy pop pickers

blimey, how time flies. here we are again, then. yet another anniversary of the album Ripples by Ian Brown, look you see. well, ok, in the purest sense this is "only" the second anniversary, but still. no, i am not sure that i shall celebrate the third or any further. it wasn't really a plan to celebrate the first or second, in truth, but done now.

on consulting the calendar recently i noticed (and this echoes much of the above) it was about two years since my disastrous efforts to get hold of the then somewhat taking us by surprise new solo album off of Ian Brown. for those interested, more on the plight of obtaining it here. then i also recalled how i gone done a first year anniversary comment, which can be seen by clicking here if you so wish. my thinking was along the lines of well, why not play it again, see how it all sounds now. 

it would be unusual, or unexpected, for me to all of a sudden say anything negative or untoward concerning the vibes of Ian Brown. no such unusual thing shall happen here. the album (or record, if you like calling things such) does indeed hold up rather well, and i confess to playing it more than once when it was in the stereo. 

much of the sorry state of the world in which we now live in is perfectly reflected in how it is that now so very few of us wonder what, exactly, happened (this time) to see The Stone Roses (once more) come to an end, and Ian Brown return to his solo career. a career, we must note, he did warn was only temporarily "parked" whilst The Stone Roses did their thing. so far the only word on what might have happened came from John Squire. when quizzed, he said that the band had taken a decision not to discuss it, and it was most certainly not going to be him what broke that pledge. 

well, yes, all we have is that comment from John Squire, and this album from Ian Brown, which now all the more sounds like one gigantic statement of displeasure concerning what might have caused the wheels to all fall off once more. or yet again. 

lyrically, it is at every turn one feels as though they are hearing a carefully constructed comment by Brown on the subject of his (presumably now and forever) former band. even the choice of a cover song on the album, Black Roses, does this. none of these comments give any hope, at all, that we may one day hear the band together again. so much, then, for my dream of them being kind to themselves and their bank accounts by finally doing Christmas With The Stone Roses by The Stone Roses. would have been boss, that, but no matter. 

due to the tone of the record, the overall ambience and mood, maybe it would all work out best were this to be the final solo album off of Ian Brown. make no mistake, for yes, anything he releases i shall of course buy on autopilot. but, that said, this, his apparent lament of the end of the band, would make a lovely bookend, mindful of how his solo debut, Unfinished Monkey Business was, for the most part, him being quite cross with John Squire for ending the band (kind of) the first time around. 

should it be that for some reason you do not presently own a copy of Ripples by Ian Brown, then my advice would be yes, now is the time to get one. current market forces indicate that it is somewhat back in demand. just over a year ago the CD was trading hands (new) for pennies north or south of £3. a quick gander at listings now suggest one will have to pay north of £5, yet south if £6, to get it. well worth it. 

right, well, that's that. whereas i shall no doubt play the record (album) (disc) again from time to time, i am not certain it will be mentioned here. maybe, i suppose, if i cannot think of anything different to compose stuff about. 

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

with great expectations i change all my clothes

hey there

just one of them kind of (partially) opportunistic posts to showcase my washing machine, look you see, taking the chance of doing so whilst remaining being able to do so. my exploits and adventures in this genre, loosely defined as washing machines in the plural, tends to generate some interest, so why not. admittedly, the more popular ones have been when one is busted and i have failed miserably to mend it, but here we are. 

recently, then, and in the recent past rather than the imminent future (at the least, at time of composition), i went ahead and did one of them "deep clean / service" things on the washing machine. these are what one calls "off the shelf" items, what clean your machine and make sure it runs as it should. broadly speaking, or if you like accurately, there are two types of such, a powder one and a liquid one. my experience suggests that it is the former, if that is the right way of identifying the power one, which works best. 

it is so that running one of these kits, or sets, gives a rare instance of my washing machine generating more visible bubbles than usual. normally the exceptional efficiency of the device prevents too much of this, but when free of actual clothing, off it goes. 

certainly, it is absolutely true that all here (except the text, because i have not worked out how to do that here) will be presented in the greater good and glory of Commodore 64 mode. and why not. 

the advice, or guidance, is to run one of these "deep clean" or "service" things once every 30 washes. do i do so? yes. well, maybe. perhaps. no. every intention i have is certainly, or most decidedly, to do so. but a requirement of such is for me to remember to pick up one of the sets. yes, preferably the power variation. also, i have a habit, or proclivity, to wait until such a purchase opportunity is presented at a most agreeable, reduced commanded fee. or i buy them on special offer, if you like. knocking 50p or even as far north as £1 off of the price is a good way to secure my business. 

how about a nice bit of animated gif thing stuff (in Commodore 64 mode, as per the above) of the machine in action? sure. i think this may well be the first instance of such on my relatively new phone. up to now it appears to make these things a lot faster, with a somewhat higher framerate, or whatever the right term is. probably due to loads more ram, microchips or what have you shoved into it. 

perhaps the bubbles i promised, or at the very least suggested, are not quite so visible as my introduction to all of this suggested, but they are there. kind of. look at the sloshing, anyway. or don't, this is a matter really for you to determine.

generally i am not inclined to give free product promotions (except of course Marlboro, and David Bowie recordings), but still. the most comprehensive and complete way in which i can describe this washing machine is as it being the best f*****g washing machine what i have ever f*****g had in the entire sorry f*****g history of my existence. i am no sure the manufacturer of this device, being lg, would care to use that as a direct quote of endorsement, but they are welcome to if so. 

maybe i should give the specific details of this machine, but to do so strikes me as being likely a redundant matter. although my memory sways towards being best defined as an unreliable narrator, i am quite sure this washing machine is now well north of ten years old. rather like me, then, it is likely to be obsolete, and potentially more effort than it is worth to obtain. 

a quite remarkable aspect of this machine, or if you will device, is that it has proven to be a loyal, reliable servant on both sides of the equator, despite water quality and detergent availability variations. not many things in this world can make such a claim. actually they probably can, but i am unable to think of them momentarily. lots, probably. issues only come with trying to use anything electrical at first within the United States and then anywhere else, what with their infamous lower voltage capabilities. 

on being asked, coerced or in some way forced to name a favourite aspect of the washing machine, then it would be the lovely different tones it makes as one selects different functions. very early on i was able to work out that one could play a distinct and perfectly serviceable version of Cavatina off of The Deer Hunter on it. just the first part, true, and not so much the complex parts later on in this piece of music, but still. 

for the more semantic or pedantic, or just those wanting a significantly less music based response to the question of the qualities of a washing machine, indeed. yes, this machine has always provided a superb, arguably superior, level of service in washing any garment (or towel) that i have cared to challenge it with. in essence, the machine has done all which has ever been asked of it, and met all real or imagined contractual obligations in doing what it is supposed to. 

due to an act of folly, or simple miscalculation if you were to be kind, the above animated gif thing is indeed presented the wrong way round, rotated as it is some 90 degrees (if i have that right, it has been a while since i gone done maths) anticlockwise, or left. those of you wishing to view it the right way around can, i am sure, work it out. my guess was that if i filmed it the wrong way around i could rotate it later; as it turns out no. 

it might well be (and this is highly likely) that my days of using this washing machine are numbered. that would be a different tale for another day. but, on the basis of this being so, all the more reason to celebrate it now, as and when i am able to. 

no, there is not a great deal particularly more for me to add. but i have taken another picture and already added it here, so i might as well just waffle on some more. 

could it be said that i am enthusiastic and passionate about washing machines? if asked i would say no, probably not, and yet should one take as evidence all what is written above, the answer seems to be yes. maybe it would be best to say that i have a healthy appreciation for the benefits these devices bring to everyday life. 

right, well, anyway, thanks for taking the time to read all of this (or most of it) and observe whatever images took your fancy. 

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

Elvis is English and climbs the hills

hello there

a bit of an indulgence post, then, look you see, because why not. this is, or was, my blog, after all. 

for fun, then, or to show off, an incomplete look at what i think is a complete set of the variations of the single release of the song The Buddha Of Suburbia by, and yes it is (or was) quite rare for me to write stuff about him, David Bowie. this single was taken from the album of the same name, and in ostensible terms only was intended as the theme for the (brilliant) television series of the same name. 

except, no, it is not complete. i don't, or didn't, have the 7" vinyl single variation. call me, or accuse me of being, not a proper fan if you wish, but as partial defence i think that the 2 CD singles and cassette single versions mean that at the least i have a passing interest. 

so far as i am aware this particular single "peaked at" (or reached) 35 in the UK singles chart. which means it counts as top forty single by Bowie, should the subject ever come up on Pointless again, despite the fact that the album it comes from is bewilderingly not classified (officially) as a Bowie album. quite strange. it is a brilliant song, and perhaps the lack of success in the charts comes to not heavily marketing it, or just that the Bowie renaissance was not yet in full swing. 

controversy also dogged the single, and made it a bit difficult to get it on the radio, or the video aired. the single features a wonderful line, "can't tell the bullsh!t from the lies", which alas is not radio friendly. also, this was the time (early 90s) of the great purge of media in the USA, and so the video could not be shown there (unedited at least) because Bowie is seen (whisper it) smoking a cigarette in some scenes. 

yes, by the way, i did eventually get around to watching the series for which this song, and the album entire, were produced. even if not all that much of the music got used. and what a brilliant show it is too, well worth tracking down. something of an odyssey, if you like. for fans or enthusiasts of such, it is episode three (of the four) which was laced, should i recall right, with nudies. 

what took me rather by surprise on the cassette version of the single is the font used for the much loved name of David Bowie. it is, as some of you will not require me to point out, not the font used for the album or single, but rather the one (and styling) from Black Tie White Noise. yes, that album came out in the same year (and is classified as a "proper" Bowie album), but no, so far as i am aware, no other connection. in fact i thought the records were released by two different labels. 

tracklistings for the singles? well, probably rather look at the wikipedia page for it, as the various variations in the "mixes" of the titular track are just too much of a headache for me to try and rewrite. but know that all variations and versions are most splendid. 

each variation of the single includes, as a b-side, Dead Against It very much in the version that is on the album. well, it sounds so to me, but i am no expert in nuances and slight differences. and what a stunning song that is, too. well, it was always good on the album, but here, in a sort of quasi or partial state of isolation, it is allowed to stand and flow as a song in its own right. i can only tell you so often, this is an album you should hear if you have not already. 

of course an image of Bowie (himself) appears on the single, on the reverse cover or inside booklet, or whatever the correct term is. this is the same image from the back of the album, to be sure. and i really do love the picture. everything about it suggests something pensive, or patience, like he is sat there waiting for everyone to work out this album. 

not that it really needs much working out. if his cue was to produce music for a television adaptation of a book it is known that he admired, what evolved was something that i remain fairly confident in saying was a heavily "autobiographical" work, as in it is an album which he exposes more of his thoughts and frame of mind in an overt manner. essentially all art is autobiographical to a degree, i suppose (i never was all that clever), but how much is layered and how much is in your face ch-ch-ch-changes. well, yes, also, the album to be most this until, of course, Blackstar. 

alas, or sadly, my inept photography skills prevent me from providing you with a decent, clear image of the "special edition" version of the CD single. one that has just two tracks rather than four, but is resplendent with some fine holographic hologram stuff on the disc surface. i can promise or assure you that it does look quite class. 

is it worth your time hunting down any or all of the variations of the single of The Buddha Of Suburbia? well, yes, no, maybe. should you get worried about people not believing you are a "proper fan" then sure. but, in truth, getting just the album makes more sense. going on the general prices on the great car boot sale site of the internet, usually one (1) version of the single costs north of 50% of the cost of just getting the album. and it is pretty much the same music. 

my thanks, always and forever, for reading. or just looking at the pictures.

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

gaga ooh la la unga unga cookie cookie

hello

i do indeed "get" the pressures our (so-called) pop stars are under these days. first the internet made them bereft of record sales, for so few of us still actually buy music. and then all this new, fancy plague came along, look you see, meaning that they cannot earn coins of money off of gigs and that. 

making cash where you can, then, is where it's at. i really don't have a problem with artists licensing their vibes for adverts, for being "cool" and not a "sell out" to "the man" does not pay whatever bills pop stars might have, such as mortgages and of course [text obscured on legal advice] which isn't tax deductible as normally that's a cash only business. also, of course, selling the rights to use music to them computer space invader game things. famously it is so that Aerosmith were reported to have made more money off of their songs by letting them be used in games than they ever did from actual record sales. which is nice, and sidesteps the fact that most (but certainly not all) of Aerosmith albums were complete sh!t that you would only buy if it was that or a Sammy Hagar one instead. 

not all forms of pop stars bringing home the bucks, or bacon, make immediate sense, though. by all means crack on with what works, but every now and then, an endorsement or commercial venture fails to register anything at all when considering how it might have come to be. 

such as, since you were so kind to ask (in a tacit way), the above, and the below. which are Lady Gaga endorsed, or inspire, Oreo "cookies", with cookies i believe being that word what Americans use when they actually mean biscuits, for them have some other culinary dish which they call biscuits by mistake. 

make no mistake, i quite like Lady Gaga. a frequent frustration of mine is just how one of her tunes in particular, Bad Romance, could and should be one of the greatest pop songs of all time, if only it were not for the ludicrous over-production, exemplified by the unnecessary and distracting "gaa gaaa ooooh la la" dubbed all over it for no apparent reason. nothing much of Ms (or Lady) Gaga said that she had a natural affinity for any sort of biscuits ("cookies"), though. but we do live in a world where any number of sporting teams (or franchises) feel obliged to have "official mortgage broker partners" and similar. whatever pays the gig. 

did Lady Gaga endorsing, or "inspiring", these cookies compel me to purchase them? goodness me, no, in no way or form, leaving aside shape. partially it was an impulse purchase, but mostly (and this is not entirely separate) it was due to or down to them being on "special". 

yes, i am trying to work out which aspect of the cookies (since that seems to be the word) were inspired or endorsed by Lady Gaga. or both. my eyes may well be untrained, or simply failing me, but they do all seem appear to be just standard, regular Oreo things, if somewhat smaller than usual. although this is probably down to that "shrinkonomics" thing. where they sell you less for the same price, or however that all works. many things i am, an economist is not one. 

pretty much taste like regular Oreo biscuits or cookies (whatever) do, at least i think so. in truth it had been a fair while since i last had some, and i don't rightly know what i recall of such. bland, certainly, of course. growing up in the 80s, and seeing all these exotic brands in American shows and films, really set us up for a fall when we finally got to try them. in no way was i expecting, or prepared for, American sweets ("candy") or biscuits ("cookies") to be so banal and bland as they turned out to be. 

will i be purchasing any more of these? no. so far as i am aware the "special" on them is now at an end, or otherwise has ceased, and besides there are only so many Oreo things what i need. 

oh, there you go. on the packet it says "this is a design inspired by" and then a word you cannot read, due to the hideous font selected. i suspect it might be Chromosome X  or whatever she called her most recent album. that one what has a really good song on it, Rain, with her off of the tele, Ariana Grande i think. bangin' pop tune, that. no, i did not buy it. oh, just done a google thing and it is called Chromatica, if that is what that is supposed to say in the above. price has dropped too, maybe i shall pick it up.

quite like one of the songs off of the new McCartney (Paul) album too. but not to the tune of the £13 they are asking for the disc. also, they appear to have released 24 different versions of the record, so i am unsure what one to get to get the one song. no, so far as i am aware, McCartney (Paul) has not endorsed or inspired a biscuit, but he is obviously a Rich Tea man. i would speculate that if you called in at John it would have been hobnobs, and a cup of tea at George's would have come with custard creams. undoubtedly Ringo is into something continental, like Nice or other such sh!t infused with coconut and other ingredients most people do not like. 

there we have it, then. the future of pop music appears to be biscuits. and why not. role on the day that Ed Sheridan (or whatever) endorses biscuits, so i know what type to never, ever buy again. he will probably go for the same ones what Ringo does, anyhow. 

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

a message to love

heya

right, so, lovely. today, being the date of publication (and not necessarily the day on which you read it, look you see), is the one called Valentine's Day. a day set aside, or demarcated, for celebrations or other such declarations of love, affection and what have you. make what you will of such a date being placed as central to the middle of a month what the Romans created to simply place all unlucky things in life in. 

this strikes me as an ideal time to look at one of the more dominant, if not major, news stories of the year so far, with the year of course being the year 2021. which was supposed to be so much better than 2020. no, i am not speaking (or rather writing) of the great plague which threatens to kill us all, the fallout from all of that "Brexit" business, the surge in armed insurrection by Scottish nationalists, the continued devaluation of the singles chart, attempts at another counter-revolutionary war in America or any other such matter. rather, the more pressing concern of how a group of people wish to wander around London, culling (which is to say killing) parakeets. 

before addressing the complex question of whether or not we should allow armed bird haters to wander around London sporadically killing anything they consider to be a parakeet (answer = no), it is important to establish how, when, and for what reason so many parakeets embraced London as their home. it is so that this is, really, the only aspect of the story which interested me. 

of the various theories put forward, easily the best is that Jimi Hendrix, in the late 60s (he would have had a hard time doing it in the 70s), released a mating pair of parakeets in London. this was some sort of symbolic gesture, a message to love, if you will, the type of which he was a renowned exponent of. all parakeets in London can in some way trace their provenance (or heritage) back to this pair. except, of course, that their numbers were swelled when, in the 80s, a robbery at the home of George Michael went wrong, his (apparently massive) private aviary was left open, and further parakeets spread their love across London. 

it is the world i wish to live in, truly and really, where these aspects of rock mythology exist. sadly, or alas, there are many who seek to simply debunk this theory, such as this article right here. whilst not denying the two incidents happened, there is a keenness to deny it is this alone which is responsible. well, ignore such. just because the world of music is boring and dull now, in the present day, does not mean it was always so. let the proliferation of parakeets in London be yet more reasons we remember the legacy of Jimi and George. 

yet still this question remains. it is a question which one would naturally presume was considered yet never spoken of, but it has been vocalised. that question is, as mentioned earlier, of whether or not we should let those upset or "offended" by the presence of parakeets go around and "cull" them, which of course is a polite and sensibility safe way of saying kill them. 

no, of course we should not. whereas i am no crusader or champion of the planet (nothing lasts forever), even i, a relic from a time gone by, has learned from our folly. humans remain the only known species to have roamed this planet that kill for reasons other than necessity. despite the well documented chaos, disruption and damage caused by this - eliminating species, eroding ecosystems - for some reason we remain inclined to seek ways to do it still. 

presumably a lot of the will to seek to "cull" parakeets stems from the fact that it is a predominantly London (innit) issue, affecting Londoners. they do appear to exist in an isolationist way from the remainder of the nation, a nation they can often scant accept being part of. had it been people in Burnley, or Cardiff, or Uttoxeter or similar wishing to "cull" parakeets, they would have been up in arms down there in London, doing them fancy marches they are keen on, declaring it barbaric. and yet, because it affects London, it is somehow "different", and we "don't understand", and so they should be allowed to do as they please. 

may parakeets fly free, or whatever they do, for many years to come. people who for some reason do not like them need to learn, and hopefully accept, that not everything in life always goes how you want it to, and such is not always cause for drama or distress. 

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

posh trolley

hello there

fans of images of trolleys (trollies) in places where they are not usually intended to be can be merry, then, as that is precisely what this post concerns. it may well be that this is the first such post of this nature for the year (2021), look you see, but also sorry if this is the second. 

whereas i get to see a good many trollies (trolleys), and for that matter singular shoes, haplessly abandoned on my travels, now not so much. my suspicion is that the great and good invisible war on the new plague is being taken a bit more seriously now, and so people are not wandering around as much as they once would have. also, as scrap yards are presumably momentarily closed, bewilderingly seen as a form of non-essential business, one really would have no need to collect a free trolley (or two) from a retailer, as one would not have anywhere to exchange it for (no questions asked) cash. 

but, happily, luckily or even fortuitously (presuming you like such things) i did indeed spot a trolley or two (as in two) in a less standard than you would expect setting of late. and yes, of course, pictures.

two of them, then. quite interestingly, and i appreciate that you can ascertain this from the crystal like clarity of the greater good of the Commodore 64 mode image, from two different retailers. yes, there is a non-Commodore 64 mode image below, but no the names are not too much clearer. from what i can recall, one was off of Tesco and one was off of some shop called Wilko, that i think i have passed a branch or chapter or two of but have not as such as yet been a patron. 

anyway, locale for these trolleys (trollies). a limited space car park adjacent to a rather posh, fancy looking, clearly intended for the affluent and the aspiration driven market set of apartments, converted from some large form of building originally purposed for some economic concern or other. nothing at all of the (splendid looking) living quarters suggested that they were designed for the kind of person who would usually spend their time acquiring vast numbers of shopping trollies (trolleys), only to store them at home for no apparent reason. 

location for all of this? of course i cannot give too many specifics. but a sort of overtly southern south aspect of the northern regions of Yorkshire, i suppose. one of those sorts of provincial, rural villages in Yorkshire (and there are many) where the residents give every sense of not liking "outsiders", looking upon such with disdain from their position of superiority. and why not. 

surely, yes, it is a little discomforting and unsettling to innocently visit a place and have the residents immediately take a dislike to you. but, that is human nature. or, maybe, that is how we have crafted human nature to be. invariably that is how it must be. take, for instance, the "smart phone" you may well have. an incredible device, giving anyone who owns one access to virtually all known knowledge, providing the means to access absolutely any form of art ever created or see any part of the world. mostly, though, we use them just to send images of cats to people, or to announce that we shall sh!t in the face of anyone who disagrees with our views, no matter how outlandish they are. 

do i keep a stock (or store) of trolleys (trollies), either at home or at some other location? not really. yes, i think i have taken part custodianship of one or two in the past, but probably returned them. i have just never felt qualified to be a full part of the economic cycle which sees many take the trollies (trolleys) generously offered for free by retailers and proceed to sell them to scrap merchants. thus far this business model appears to have worked without my presence, and long may it continue to do so. 

just as soon as the invisible war on the new plague has been won, i believe, is the answer to when we can expect to see an impressive proliferation of shopping trolleys (trollies) being sporadically abandoned around our green and (mostly) pleasant land. if that is not enough motivation to keep fighting the fight until victory is secured, well then i am at a loss to speculate as what might be. 

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

my republic for a horse

barr na maidine duit, le bheith cinnte

today (being the date of publication) is, more or less (provisionally, so to speak) the 38th anniversary of a presumed crime which continues to baffle. was it a crime actually done, and if so, to what end, and how did it fail so spectacularly. yes, oh yes. indeed, this is about, or concerns, Shergar, look you see, and the kidnapping of this horse. 

i very much doubt that anyone what does a google to learn of Shergar would get my simple blog returned as a result. but, on the off chance this is so, or you are randomly here and curious, i can give a brief history. well, first i would suggest you read a proper article, but since we are here now, fine. 

whilst appreciating that different people can (and do) apply different criteria and come to a very different answer, and also that i am no expert, there is general, if not profligate, consensus that Shergar was the greatest racecourse ever to grace the planet. erudite, fast, sleek, beautiful and a winner. a horse that made a substantial amount of money for everyone but turf accountants (bookies), and this was very much worth a lot of money. 

one can, then, at a very superficial level, understand why the idea of "kidnapping" Shergar and demanding an awful lot of money in ransom for safe return would seem like a good one. it patently isn't, of course, after one has taken a moment to consider the immediate complexities of doing so. but, so the reports and stories go, this did not stop persons who remain officially unknown from doing so. 

just what, exactly (more or less), happened? no one is entirely sure. if like me you read a lot then you are aware of the concept of an "unreliable narrator". this is what the story of Shergar has, in abundance. if we remove the one theory of it all being an elaborate insurance scam (the horse was worth more alive than dead, even across all thirty five owners), and further disregard the more fanciful,the  one compelling and generally accepted as what happened story is that the horse was kidnapped by the IRA. 

for what reason would the IRA do such a thing? well, pretty much has been laid out above, not really to rally people to their cause of Irish unification, or even to get people to hate the British, but rather it was all done in furtherance of seeking coins of money. 

how do i put this all so very sensitively and delicately, so as not to seek to upset the sensibilities or moral fibre of anyone all that fragile they get upset at the mention of virtually anything which deviates from their blinkered view? tricky. a common trend across independently armed, quasi military groups enthusiastic about attaining ideals not generally voted for (whether you see them as terrorists or freedom fighters is up to you) is that they do not think to add a financial management section to their merry gang of devout believers. which is to say that usually they are not too good with fiscal control.

around the time of the Shergar kidnapping, the IRA were running up costs of around £5 million a year. this was in the days before it became trendy for Americans to remember their Irish ancestry and throw money at them, so sources of income were tight. with very few legitimate means of bringing in money available, and only so much to be made off of smuggling dodgy fags, other avenues were explored. like kidnapping. some attempts at kidnapping actual people didn't go too well, which is presumably when they thought that nothing could go wrong with kidnapping a horse. a thoroughbred, strong, big, heavy, not easy to keep calm horse. 

being fair, it's not like the IRA just gave up because of a lack of funding. other organisations certainly did. the end of apartheid in South Africa, for instance, had less to do with Bono, Sting, Jim Kerr and whoever "demanding" it, more to do with the white minority government running out of money. on a bigger scale, the Soviet Union collapsed financially, and not via America "winning" the Cold War. also, the HR department of the IRA is to be credited with not allowing any cost cutting measures which would affect, for want of a better word, staff. groups such as al-qaeda and isis have, to a degree, clocked that you can keep the weekly wage bill very low down if you use suicide bombers rather than blowing up cars and churches and what have you. 

presumably it was meant to all go down along the lines of IRA snatch the horse, IRA call the owners, IRA demand money, owners immediately pay, horse back. except, it didn't. Shergar had (technically has) 35 different owners, all with a (relatively) equal share. there was no one person to speak to with a demand, not even a more senior one. by the way, that's 35 owners in 35 different parts of the world. all before the days of an internet, or mobile phone, or any such easy way to reach out and contact someone. what agreement was reached between some owners was that there was no f*****g way they were paying, for it was just opening up a business of kidnapping other horses if they did so. 

so, what happened? no one is sure. an IRA "supergrass" (who, it should be noted, was paid for any information handed over) claims that yes, it was the IRA what did it, the ones who did it "miscalculated" how easy (or not) it would be to look after a kidnapped thoroughbred racehorse, they lost control of the poor animal and eventually they shot it, placing the remains in places unknown. essentially, then, the world lost a great racehorse, the IRA ran up extra costs, and no one came off any better at all. the insurance money (eventually) paid out to Shergar's owners was substantial, but insignificant compared to potential earnings from future races and of course putting him out to stud. 

no, not sure what (if any) point there is to this post. which makes it more or less the same as all the others. i just noticed the anniversary on this date, and thought, well, why not. perhaps someone shall have found it interesting or, more likely, i may have added myself to yet another hitlist. 

a bheith ar fheabhas lena chéile !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

judgement of jim

heya

a fairly recent television thing brought to mind that which is, look you see, unlikely. which would be an aspect of Bullseye (real or imagined) what i had not ever mentioned here before. that would be the instance, or incident, in which His Holiness, His Excellency Jim Bowen used his stature and status in the world to solve a major murder case. 

some background, then. no, actually, it is rather much more better to say to recap. as has been explored on this blog before, frequently, prior to his ascendancy to (or acceptance of) the role of pope, it was so that His Holiness, His Excellency Jim Bowen used Bullseye as a platform, or conduit, or if indeed you prefer pulpit, to administer various teachings and lessons. 

these lessons, which as mentioned earlier (just right there above) were teachings for us to learn from, were always focused on achieving a plateau of a harmonious existence; to create a world where aspects of peace, tranquility, splendour, having thousands of pounds in cash randomly in your suit pocket and love and merged, converged and blended into one universal ideal. it was excellent, and of tremendous benefit to the world. proof of this is measured in by just how much gone to sh!t the world has since he ceased doing the job. went f****d it has, to be sure. 

on a superficial level, or at face value even, it might seem that solving crimes, in particular heinous ones such as murder, or twats like Phil Collins and later Boris Gardner blocking Frankie Goes To Hollywood from being number one in the charts, would be part of such a remit. not so. in his wisdom, it was that His Holiness, His Excellency Jim Bowen believed Bullseye should only advocate how life would be, and not seek to punish those who made choice which defied his vision. 

but, and of course there is a but, otherwise the story would end here, one exception was made. much of this has been documented in the recent, generally well received series off of ITV here in the UK, called The Pembrokeshire Murders. regrettably the title is a bit of a spoiler, but still, here is a link to their show. well worth watching, even if only for a reminder of how great Keith Allen was in the 80s, when he was a versatile, talented actor as well as being a gobby opinionated sh!tbag, before ditching the talent aspects (briefly) to concentrate on being a gobby opinionated sh!tbag and raising children who appear to lack his natural flair or talent but do indeed excel at being gobby opinionated sh!tbags, even outstripping him in some instances. yes, especially her. but that is another story. 

right, where was i? oh yes, that time His Holiness, His Excellency Jim Bowen used his immense gifts, and his cathedral of Bullseye, to help the coppers work out who done the murders. so yes, also spoilers shall flow for the remainder of this post. although yes, the culprit was brought to book. had his collar felt, or however you would word it. an American would say something like "his ass got busted", i suppose, and i think in Japan criminals are supposed to kill themselves in some sort of peculiar ceremonial way rather than have the shame of being caught. 

generally, and actually, His Holiness, His Excellency Jim Bowen had a fondness for each and every part of the British Isles, except of course Hartlepool, blemished as the place is with an unnecessary and heavy handed approach to propping up their economy with trivial traffic and parking fines. he was, it is believed, or rather i assume, particularly fond of Pembrokeshire, mostly because of how lovely and delightful it sounded when spoken with his distinct, discerning accent. 

it was the thought of this (presumably) lovely place being blemished by crime, of being tainted by the falling of the blood of innocents in defiance of nature, which prompted His Holiness, His Excellency Jim Bowen to act. and act swiftly he did, breaking the vow of making Bullseye a place of learning not punishment for it was the only way to achieve harmony. 

you were, i believe, rather fairly warned about spoilers above. these now come below, with the rest of this post. and, in particular, in this all too brief video clip below. believe me, i have no wish to showcase or give air to this or any criminal, but it is important to note how he did not respect, if not directly disrespect, His Holiness, His Excellency Jim Bowen.

at that point above, in the presence of His Holiness, His Excellency Jim Bowen, if there was any hope of redemption or salvation for this chap, then he would have broken down there and then, confessed all, and pleaded for mercy. but no, he carried on as if he had not done the murders. shocking that someone should have fallen so far from grace that not even in the face of His Holiness, His Excellency Jim Bowen would they repent. 

quite a lot of what followed then, was a real version of that ludicrous, false and patently ridiculous urban legend surrounding Phil Collins and the song In The Air Tonight. to briefly recap it, a story is that he wrote it about a murder he witnessed, he investigated the murder, found who did it, invited him to a gig, and as he performed the song had the spotlight shine on him, at which point the police swooped in and arrested him. instead of, you know, going to the police, reporting that you saw a murder, giving them a description of who done it, and handing over to them all investigations so that they might arrest him without having to arrange a concert to do it. 

sure, yes, in the TV series (or dramatisation) of it, they do depict it that his appearance on Bullseye was just incidental and co-incidental, and how it led to his capture was a partially lucky fluke occurrence. but, also, at the front of each episode (all three) there is a disclaimer, stating that certain events had been altered for "dramatic" purposes. this i am assuming is absolute confirmation His Holiness, His Excellency Jim Bowen arranged the whole thing so as to catch the criminal, but requested no attention be drawn to this so as not to blemish the temple of universal ideals what he had forged Bullseye to be. 

one rather surprising aspect is, of course, that this was all done via a British (as in proper) television show, and not an American one. everything we know (and see) of American media gives every suggestion that this would be a perfectly natural and unsurprising thing for them to have done. i can only imagine it is because of the huge amounts of commercial breaks they have, and the amount of time they have to dedicate to audiences whooping and laughing and applauding, that there is just nowhere near enough time available to solve a crime during a standard television episode of whatever it is they watch on the tele over there. 

let me conclude by pointing out, again, no major crime (that i can think of) has been solved via television since His Holiness, His Excellency Jim Bowen took the pope gig. whilst i have every confidence in our constabulary to crack on and do so regardless, i am sure they appreciated what he did in this instance, and look upon it fondly. it would be fitting if every police station in the land had a framed image of His Holiness, His Excellency Jim Bowen on display, as a reminder that it is all worthwhile. 

unfortunately, and with regret, i am not at all sure too many more references to Bullseye, or for that matter His Holiness, His Excellency Jim Bowen, shall appear here. a key (pivotal) reason for this would be that the channel what shows Bullseye have shoved the broadcasts all the way out to 11pm at night, thinking for some reason showing things with Bradley Walsh in them for 16 hours of each day would be quite class. he is all right, mind, but no. 

be excellent to each other (except murderers)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

not as bad as i feared

howdy pop pickers

indeed, another vibes related post, and for good measure one pertaining to David Bowie once more, look you see. and why not. 

the halfway stage of the possibly needless, arguably excessive "Brilliant Live Adventure" series of concert recordings of David Bowie from the second half of the 90s is here, then. and it comes in the form, as the title more or less indicates, of one that i was decidedly least looking forward to. 

volume three, then, is LiveAndWell.Com, a sort of rehash or expanded variation of a previously released recording. no, i never had the original, as it was an "exclusive" for members of the fan club, or BowieNet, at the time, and i don't think it was possible or practical to either join or purchase it where i was in the world at that stage. sure, it (in an original variation) had been widely bootlegged since, but no, i had not had a proper copy. this was not something i considered to be a gap in my collection.

why the lack of interest, or little sense of loss of missing out? pretty much the setlist. it was, and still is in this "Brilliant Live Adventure" variation, dominated by Earthling and the more esoteric, jazz odyssey moments of 1.Outside. things that were, to be blunt, apparently amusing to do for Bowie, but ultimately very boring. just how boring? Michael Eavis described the Earthling era as boring. yes, i do mean that one, the Michael Eavis out of Glastonbury. if the man who willingly booked Coldplay six (6) times to play at his concerts, as well as the personifying dullness of Mr Kim Kardassian (or whatever) and Ed Sheringham (or whatever) calls you "boring", you know your satnav has let you down. 

but yes, of course i bought it. there is a will, or wish, to "complete" this six disc set, and a sense of obligation to purchase nearly all the things what they put out with his name on, whatever they are. in this instance there was some gratification in that i was clearly and measurably far from alone in not being confident about the release. usually, due to the inane, making no sense decision to make these things all "limited edition", the volumes have been declared "sold out" within a couple of days of them being available on the website. not so LiveAndWell.Com, as you could still order it a good two or three weeks after it was made available. considering the fact that there is a hefty percentage of people just buying these to re-sell on the great car boot sale of the internet (at an inflated price), well, if even the opportunistic profiteers are having second thoughts about it, there's another warning. 

my copy, perhaps inevitably, arrived in the post a good deal faster, or sooner if that is more correct, after the time they sent it than the other two did. cheers for that, do make sure i get the least interesting one as soon as possible. with a groan and a sigh, then, i eventually got around to playing it on the day that it landed, pretty much resigned to the idea that it would probably just get played once, then sit on a shelf. 

some further, even more initial concerns were that it was so of being that not even the Bowie Estate was particularly interested in this. i mean, the font used for his name on the cover is sh!t, and the picture of Bowie on the cover is, so far as any picture of him could be, also sh!t. all on top of a sh!t dominated setlist. to avoid any allegation of sidestepping it, yes, even by his legendary sense of humour standards, i get that it was called this originally, but releasing something called 'Live And Well' so close to the fifth anniversary of his death also felt rather uncomfortable. 

as it turns, or turned, out, this third volume of Brilliant Live Adventures by David Bowie is not quite as bad as i had come to fear, expect or accept. steady on there, no, it is not "brilliant" or great overall, but it is not quite so a sh!t experience as the fear of anticipation suggested. enough, at the least, for it to get played a couple more times (maybe) before it is retired to the shelf, likely never to be played again. 

highlights? what makes it all seem not too sh!t is the performance of three of the first four tracks. the renditions of I'm Afraid Of Americans, The Heart's Filthy Lesson and Hallo Spaceboy were (or are) most impressive, and left me with a distinct sense that i had not blindly and completely jettisoned just south of £20 all in to become a custodian of this recording. with respect to the latter mentioned, with delight i say that Hallo Spaceboy is once more the proper version and not the Pet Shop Boys fiddle about variation. here it is even better than the two (2) versions we got on the previous release, and they were smart, like. 

going non non-linear (for people who like that sort of thing), i had also assumed that much of any version of LiveAndWell.Com had been rehashed for this "free" disc, Earthling In The City, i had picked up at some point. when i say "free", as it happens i had to pay a significant chunk for an imported off of America copy of the magazine that it came "free" with. GQ, no less, what he also done a concert for, and of course someone who is or was employed by GQ has since shown their appreciation with an absolute hatchet job of a Bowie book, done the moment he was dead and so could not sue. back on point, no it isn't, but more on that later. 

in sticking with positives from the recording, Battle For Britain (The Letter) sounds a good deal better than how i remember it off of the Earthling album, but no, not quite enough for me to break a vow and put that album back in the stereo. a, or one, possible and plausible reason for it sounding better is the cheeky use of the piano bit from Time which appears on the end. maybe just done to tease the fans in attendance that one of the better known (and more loved) songs off of Bowie could get played, but was not going to be. the unexpected inclusion of Little Wonder (again, more detail later) turned out to be fun, and the "rave" variation of V-2 Schneider, recorded or performed under the guise of the 'Tao Jones Index', actually works very well indeed. 

that, taking it as a given my maths is correct, is six (6) of the twelve (advertised as 11) songs on the disc which i found to be ranging from good to most agreeable. you may well like the other six, they could indeed be songs off of Bowie you think are quite class. also, you could be swayed by his personal affinity for one of them, expressed prior to the performance. not me, though. 

just another slight diversion, then. unlike the previous two 'Brilliant Live Adventures' releases, some semblance of effort has gone into packaging, as one gets a genuine, bona fide, high quality printed booklet with this one. of interest is the preface to it, a from the time of initial BowieNet / Fan Club release message from David, saying how much he enjoyed it all. the remainder of the booklet is comments submitted from fans who were at one show or another, and they are lovely to read. 

yes, the dick disc. there is no way to describe it other than that, really. he, as in Bowie, really, really, really seems to have been quite taken and amused by the overty priapic logo he managed to make from the lower case initials of his stage name. add to this the massive "sex" earring he showcased wearing, and the various instances of "David Bowie sex noises" he took to adding to records (Telling Lies comes to mind, so to speak), and he was unequivocal about what he considered quite class at the time, and why not, get it and enjoy it whilst you can. 

dull moments, then. if it is really so, as rumoured and reported, that Bowie had planned on 1.Outside being a Tin Machine project, then i totes get why Hunt and Tony f****d off out of it. overall the whole thing is, and i seem to remember Bowie acknowledging this, just too much of it. sure, there are some inspired and great moments on the record. but, it is the less so moments which seemed to make it on to the set for gigs. David introducing The Motel as being his favourite does not, with all the will in the world, make it any better or any less monotonous. the same goes for I'm Deranged and The Voyeur (as it is shortened to), they just serve to make a numb headache. 

quite a poor thing was how sloppy the promotion, or advertising, of this release was. above is the given track information from the official Estate website (link here for you). except, the disc itself turns out to be somewhat different. for a start, as mentioned before, there are twelve tracks. no, not a hidden one, it is just that Little Wonder is indeed on it, despite not being listed. also, for some reason, they made a big deal of the provenance of the recordings. whereas the website gives a clear indication of where and when Hearts Filthy Lesson was recorded, on the CD itself it declares that they are "not sure" exactly where it was recorded. oh. never mind, it's good anyhow. 

leaving aside the reluctance i and many others had (initially) to purchase this, it does indeed appear to be now marked as "sold out". meaning all of this in any "review" to persuade sense is rather pointless. unless, of course, you have a big a train set of a budget enough to purchase at an inflated price off of sellers on the net, or are happy to give the "streaming" version a spin. 

how it compares to the "free" disc that was, is, Earthling In The City, then. and my apologies for what it turns out is a quite poor, blurry picture, but not too sorry as evidently i could not be bothered to go and get another, more better or clearer image. 

only one "duplicate", then, the dreary, dull and monotonous Pallas Athena off of Black Tie White Noise is the same performance on both discs. considering very little of that album ever made it on to the stage in live performances, it is somewhat disenchanting that this one made it more frequently. what can i say, i guess Bowie really, really liked it. 

where too next, then, for the 'Brilliant Live Adventures' series? good question. it was spoken that it is planned for two releases from 1995 (done), two from 1997 (one down) and then two from 1999. i had kind of hoped that the second from 97 would be an official release of the widely bootlegged Night In Loreley, which features both a great performance and a more fan friendly selection of songs. but, that was recorded in 1996, so i am not sure. considering he arranged the gig purely to record it for a release that eventually did not happen, surely the London Astoria gig will be one of the 1999 ones, maybe even including an official DVD of it, to replace the not bad bootleg DVD of it. one never knows what they might do, though. it would be nice to say "but it's fun to find out", but.........

unsure as ever, is how i find myself, in respect of whether all of this has been of any interest or use to anyone out there. a half brilliant live adventure, then. this could have been, and was expected to be, a great deal worse than it actually is. well, anyhow, anyway, thanks for taking the time to read, or just have a look at the pictures. 

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