watching some swans

heya

and so here we are with one of them posts where i have, look you see, far more images and video than i have words to go with them. oh well, hey ho, i suppose the internet has evolved to the point where it is more of a visual experience than a reading one. 

there are, and presumably this goes to a degree without needing to be solicited or spoken of, many facets to my new living arrangements. one in particular would be the ability to go and have a look at some swans pretty much any time that i would care to do so. if for some reason you would like to observe them (the swans, or some of them) too, then this post is very much for you, dear reader. 

my basic understanding, for i profess no expertise, is that the above sees swans going for it, which is to say swimming, or sailing (cruising, perhaps) in a "v" formation. except they are not making a v as such, although the ripples in the water very much are. 

i would imagine that at some point i have discussed swans before, and in doing so, under the terms of the English way of doing things, i shall have mentioned that thing which most accept as "absolute fact". that is the notion that all swans in the United Kingdom are the property of HM The Queen, and any form of transgression against them (the swans) carries a variety of serious punishments. but first video.

yes, a few moments of some swan swimming, of floating, or whatever they do, for you. quite tranquil viewing, i hope you find. 

so, is it at all true that HM The Queen owns all of the swans off of (or in) the UK? i don't believe so, no. yes, i could look it up, but then so could you. from what i remember the last time i looked into this, it was either all the swans on the Thames what belong to our reigning monarch, or failing that a specific breed of them. no, i had no idea that there were different types of swans either, bar colour. 

a swan swimming (sailing) away from me, heading in the general direction of (i think) the north sea, or some larger body of water. presumably the swan was abandoning me here (for it moves away) as every living thing to encounter me does so, but specifically i would imagine in this instance it was due to me having no food to offer. 

on that note, are you or are you not allowed to "feed" swans, be it bread or something? i have no idea. a couple of years ago there was a partial scandal when a duck food company ran an advert suggesting that if you fed ducks anything like bread, or anything at all what was not their duck food, you were being rather naughty. this, unsurprisingly, caused quite a backlash when thousands of kids, for the sake of some lazy advertising, were left in tears by being called duck killers for giving them some bread. 

indeed, a black swan and a white swan, doing their thing (or one of them) upon the water. these two do seem to be a pair, or couple, and are frequently seen together. nice one. 

no, then, i have not given in to the temptation to provide the above, or any other, swans bread or any such similar nutrition. i have witnessed others doing so, and from what i can tell no harm has befallen any swan as a result. perhaps i shall do so, one day. maybe if the boys come and visit they may well wish to do so. but, not today. 

perhaps an immediate question from a little earlier is that of if HM The Queen does indeed own, or take custodianship, of all or at least some of the swans, what is it that she does with them? anything that would take her fancy, one can only presume to assume. she is the Queen, after all. mostly, though, i expect, or imagine, she just lets them go about doing swan things. but, also, probably ensures that those responsible for upholding laws (the constabulary) do all within their mandate to prevent any form of harm befalling these magnificent creatures. 

what punishment could one reasonably expect if they in some way harmed or interfered with a swan? the average "man on the street", or pub based lawyer, would likely claim that doing so could technically be construed as a form or act of treason, and so you could be hung for it. a fine strikes me as being more probable, or even a custodial sentence for either repeat or particularly crass indiscretions. that said, i believe swans to be territorial, brutal, vicious and strong, so anyone what does try to do something with them will probably get all totes knacked and f****d up by the swan anyhow. 

one last video, for you, above, then. yes, a swan cruising along with an unmistakably snowy background. we had the delight of a flurry of unexpected and not particularly seasonal snow in the bit just before the middle of april. 

and that would be that for this. may the pictures, video and theoretical ideas concerning what some facts may or might not be have been of some passing interest. 

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

notes on experimenting with some ostensibly Greek cuisine what Hugh Laurie mentioned thirty or so years ago

Γειά σου

pretty much what it says there in the title, or if you wish on the box, look you see. in my provisional, occasional quest to test, experience or make contact with any matter which one half of an eccentric, acquired taste, appeal selective comedy duo made just the slightest reference to, an item further has been ticked off. on this such instance, finally it was so that stuffed vine leaves (leafs?) presented themselves to me in a most agreeable way, and so at last i have tried them. 

for reasons of provenance, or perhaps better motivation for undertaking this, you may well wish to experience the specific comedy sketch which brought me here. also, it is far funnier and more interesting than anything i could write here. clicking on this link will take you to the full blown version of it, whilst this link goes to a version which has for some reason i cannot explain removed the first two minutes, give or take, from the start. 

so, anyway, now that you are (if you chose so) familiar with the above, the concept or notion, or if you like food product known as stuffed vine leaves (i think that is the right variation of leaves used) has always lingered in my memories. there was much merriment, in my mind and if i am honest heart, when whilst in a shop i noticed something not labelled as such, but surely and quite clearly this particular moment of cuisine, or perhaps even delicacy. 

the packaging, i confess or if you like yield, did not state that these were stuffed vine leaves. or dolmades, which is what a dear and trusted friend (hello, Faye) assures me is the "proper" name for them. dolma is what the internet thinks they are called. anyway, Hugh Laurie called them stuffed vine leaves, so that for me is the right name. on seeing them, though, presented in a selection of decidedly Greek items meant for eating, i felt that they could not possibly be anything other than leaves of vine what had been stuffed. so, with some anticipation, trepidation and excitement, i bought them. 

how did i find them? i mean, in terms of eating them, not literally how did i find them (on a shelf, if you are interested)? agreeable, i believe, is the most appropriate term. whereas i did not have the fear, trepidation or distinct lack of interest in them what Hugh Laurie so famously expressed, i confess they did not suggest any immediate appeal. but, to remain loyal to my vow, of course i ate. 

not quite sure how to explain, or express, the experience. they were neither as sweet nor as savoury as provisional suspicions suggested they might be. kind of that Derek Smalls lukewarm in between the two sensations, if you like. yes, they were good, but no, it is not something i would say i am now hooked on, or would go out of my way to experience once more. should the opportunity arise, or become clear, to have them again then i would not hesitate, but also it is not that i will undertake any motion or action which deliberately leads me to being in a situation where eating them is assured or otherwise solicited. 

except, of course, and unless i get to fulfill one ambition further. one which is not indelibly tied to, so far as i know, Hugh Laurie, or anyone else. that would be to feast on stuffed vine leaves, and indeed baklava, by the banks of the Aegean, after a day of fishing and a night of wrestling with my quasi Greek brethren, free of the restrains of cloth as the ancient gods decreed. but, i do not suspect that i shall be able to do such any time soon, and anyway if i was offered the chance to do that i would (probably) say no, in truth. just too English to let go and live the dream, i guess. 

any particular reason why my described ambitions seem to stretch as far or otherwise be limited to obscure things mentioned by Hugh Laurie in A Bit Of Fry And Laurie? not that i could offer as being definitive. just really fond memories of the show, and Hugh in particular, with them being memories which hold up surprisingly steadfast, firm and well when i revisit moments from it some 30 (blimey) years down the road. 

further, they are pretty attainable ambitions. i know, what's a heaven for if it exceeds man's grasp and so on, but still, happiness is where you find it. wanting to try them exotic sounding stuffed vine leaves is a little bit easier to get to than, say, wishing to be as rich as x or famous as y, with the ease of reach being very satisfactory and rewarding, rather than handling the disappointment of falling short trying to obtain things what are more difficult, to say the least. 

coming along with the stuffed vine leaves (or leafs to be safe to be sure) were the items picture. them pepadews (or how you spell it) with feta in are boss, and one really cannot go too far wrong with some olives, now, can they. no, i have not so far as i am aware drank one of them cocktail drinks what comes with an olive in it, but i have had several with umbrellas in, so these things balance out. 

what next for reaching or attaining Hugh Laurie out of A Bit Of Fry & Laurie ambitions? not sure. i suspect that going in to a shop and asking for either felching pens or frotting pencils would be unwise. a career with Thames Port River Authority is a possibility, i suppose, as indeed would be work as an assistant to Princess Anne. perhaps (maybe) it is best i watch or listen to further random moments from the show and see what strikes me as interesting. 

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

a new (to me) car wash

heya

yes, presented in Commodore 64 mode of course, look you see. some more, perhaps long overdue, car wash actions, or if you will shenanigans. although i a led to believe that there are some who get somewhat upset when they hear or read that word (shenanigans), getting quite cross and expressing disdain. why, i know not. 

circumstances, or change thereof, means that i now find myself with access to a different car wash facility than the one i would normally use. i am pretty sure that previously, rather than in a future which remains momentarily unwritten, i have showcased more than one such business. unless i am very much mistaken, however, this is the first time i have used this particular one. 

again, as per the last half a dozen (or even dozen) or so musings composed by moi on this subject, which to recap is the functionality of a car wash, there is not all that much i can write of this that has not already been written. well, maybe that is a hasty declaration, the type of which i am so prone to making. 

for yes, this is a slight different car wash than what i am used to. whereas all other i have made use of, or used, have been of a completely enclosed nature, this new (to me) one is a sort of "open plan" thing. there is no roof, as you can see in the image above. if you like a cabriolet car wash, i guess, but not one i would think you would willingly drive a cabriolet car through. 

beyond the fact that this car wash facility is sans roof, everything else appeared to operate quite the same as one would expect. there, above, you can see the big massive flippity floppity brushes what act as the mechanism by which any vehicle you care to fancy to drive through it (so long as it fits) shall be cleansed. 

satisfactorily so, too, might i add. for a reasonable and most agreeable fee (i forget the specifics but i can recall that it was south of £5), the vehicle which i took through this open top car wash was very nicely cleaned. all shiny and gleaming, if you will. 

well but of course there is one of them "animated gif" things for you, right there above. yes, as you can probably work out, that's the big flippity floppity soft brush things heading in the general (as in quite specific) direction of the windscreen. the video on my (relatively still) new phone does seem to come out faster / quicker than it did on the old one, but all the same i trust you find this enjoyable. 

go on then, another picture. if only just the one to show that this was indeed a soft brush car wash what i was using. the specifics of it being soft brush is, to me, interesting. who is it, i wonder, that would actively seek, for instance, a hard brush car wash?

did i find this car wash facility agreeable enough to warrant a sentiment of wishing to return? oh yes, very much so. cost effective and rather pleasantly close to my current place of residence. there is no flaw here which immediately presents itself, so i look forward to being a patron and enjoying a successful relationship with the establishment. 

to state the obvious, then, yes, as and when i next visit a (or this) car wash, surely i shall do all i can to preserve the moment in images (and animated things) as per this installment. indeed my life has devolved or been reduced to such that a visit to a car wash could be consider a highlight, featuring an above the new average level of social interaction. 

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

closed and gone

hi there

some of you get rather excited and (indeed) interested whenever Spiros sends on a picture. well, if that is you, here we are. in this instance he has sent on a picture from the fall of one of the most celebrated buildings in all of London, the Chiswick branch (or chapter) of Blockbuster video. 

it is, i believe, to be demolished, or smashed up. maybe just renovated and repurposed for some other concern. but, in any or all of these circumstances being, the class sign for the shop is no more. at the very least, let it be said that they had the decency to wait for the gentleman of the road, or vagrant, or tramp if one is allowed to use the term still, who made it his ad hoc home to pass away before they opted to tear apart his quasi legacy. 

yes, that one. it was the gentleman of the road what Spiros befriended, and presented with a rather impromptu business venture. curious to see what he might do, Spiros once gave him a pair of scissors and suggested that he commence a career as a freelance hair stylist, charging £1 or £5 for his deft skills. sadly, alas, i have no idea how it worked out. 

this was not a branch (or outlet) of Blockbuster what i ever used, for i have never taken up a residency in either Chiswick or London. as point of fact, i really did not ever use a Blockbuster much, not in the UK. once, maybe, to buy some ex-rental copies of Lord Of The Rings and 24 Hour Party People. just as Netflix killed video stores, the coming of the chain store Blockbuster killed off the more class way of renting tapes. it was always more interesting to go in and rent from video stores set up in petrol stations, corner shops and newsagents. they had a tendency to get some most peculiar named titles in, rather than just all the big, well known things. 

well, anyway, there you. if you had intended to go and look for where the Blockbuster in Chiswick was, do not do so, for it is not there no more. 

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

tea

hello there

to say that England, indeed the wider UK, has a designated National Tea Day strikes me as being some blissful ignorance of our worldwide (as in global, look you see) image. many, if not all, across the world would associate us with the immensely pleasurable (when done right) engagement of drinking tea at times in which one wishes refreshment. but, here we are. it is so that this very date on which this is published, being as it is the 21st April, is very much National Tea Day here in the UK. no, alas, or sadly, we do not get a public holiday for it. if it were offered to us, undoubtedly we would refuse, due to our equally famous and celebrated work ethic. 

our tea drinking habits have changed over the years, and not always in an agreeable way. whereas it is a truth that any time is a perfect time for tea, we did have two rigid, set times at which a brew simply had to be done and enjoyed. this was once a week, on a Wednesday i do believe, at around 8:50pm when the most recent edition of Dallas had been broadcast, and at 11am every week day. the former was stripped away by them stopping making that show, the latter was rather predictably (i am sorry to say) spoiled by the French. a key and often overlooked aspect of getting the Maastricht Treaty ratified in 1992 (or 93, maybe) was the crucial, unpopular concession which required to move the traditional UK elevensies mid-morning break to 10:30, so as to appease the French and make them feel like they actually contributed something to it all, or were of some slight relevance. here is where the first seed of Brexit was most decidedly sown, and also a glimpse at why the EU is generally incoherent and unable to act in a resolved or speedy way to much. 

so, in moving away from defiling this post with any further speak of that particular nation, tea. lovely stuff, it is, to be sure. here, why not consider a picture, in the greater good and glory of Commodore 64 mode, of one of the finest brands available. 

for the sake of placing something interesting and insightful here, let me resolve for you the mystery of why one cannot get a proper cup of tea in America (as in the USA), ever. this is a subject i am sure i have breached here before, but if not today, then when again, dear reader. quite frankly, it all amounts to shortcomings in infrastructure. 

if you like metaphors, or comparative things, it can be said that the domestic electricity supply in America is really rather like a French car, or anything French - only, at best, half of what it is required to be in order to be fit for purpose. no, hear me out. they, the Americans, run supply at 110V, whereas in the UK we have it at 220V - 240V. what this means in real (and tragic) terms is that one cannot power a proper kettle to boil to the requisite temperature required to brew tea correctly. 

this lack of being able to make proper tea explains why so many in America are so easily agitated, and prone to distressing acts of aggression. if they were able to have a decent cup of tea, they would not be, i would wager, so tightly wound. making correctly brewed tea available to Americans might, for instance, have not made the likes of Biggie Smalls, Tupac and what have you all so cross that they vented their frustration by driving around shooting people. simply serving them some decent tea may well have relaxed them, and they would have possibly invested in something far more constructive and rewarding (and less shooty), such as trout fishing like what Roger Daltrey does. 

yes, another look at that very posh tea off of Highgrove, which means from HRH His Royal Highness Prince Charles, Prince Of Wales, no less. as today marks the official State birthday of the reigning monarch, presently Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II, it seemed appropriate to make this inclusion. that and James took quite a shine to my reserves of Fortnum & Mason tea, so i have none left to picture here. 

well, there we have it. a cup of tea does indeed make everything better, and if a quarry, problem or incident cannot be resolved over a cup of tea then it would be a matter one should simply discard as of being of no relevance to the proper world. 

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

eight is kind of sometimes great

howdy pop pickers

sure, certainly, it is now a month (or so) since this turned up in a compact disc form. but here we are right now, look you see, having a gander at (and listen to) the recently issued Now That's What I Call Music 8. from what i recall (i am not likely to check) i've done the previous seven (7) issues or re-issues, so it would appear to make sense to continue. 

mostly, i confess or admit, i have kind of lost some interest in these releases. well, for the sake of completeness i do intend to purchase all of the ten (10) that they propose to re-release. for music and memories, and frequently it is the latter over the former, it was numbers or volumes four and six that really interested me. and yes, for four, i purchased one for the home stereo and then, when it was made available at an inexplicably cheap price, one more for my verk travels. it seemed easier than just making a tape or what have you.

but, here we are, and Now 8 is here. i think my rudimentary glance at the tracklisting was one of "well, all right then", as in limited expectations. playing it, however, has let me know that it was rather good. except, of course, for the inclusion of one track. 

let us get the unpleasant nature of this release out of the way as early as possible, then. despite the flaws and failings of these re-releases so for, it is so that (as far as i can tell) the tracklisting of this is as it was when it first came out on tape and album, and i think all of the correct versions of singles have been used. up to now, we have had omissions, exclusions and different mixes. sadly, or with regret, that means that i, and everyone else what has bought this, now has in digital form Every Loser Wins by Nick Berry in their collections. maybe some sin from a past life has caught me to punish me in such a way. 

covered here are thirty two (thirty one of which will be remembered fondly by someone somewhere) singles what made the official UK singles chart during the business, or if you like arse, end of 1986, being around late July to early November. late November and early December would have knacked getting the release out in time for the lucrative Christmas market, presumably. 

are these the best of that period? well, no. i mean yes, some are, but by this stage of music history there was a number of compilations being released, what with the record industry working out these were big sellers and a good way to get people to buy songs they had already purchased. so, covered here are the best 32 (actually 31) songs that they could licence for this release. 

on playing it i was aware of the significant number of decent tunes from the time. easily, and by some distance, the finest two are two "duets", or instances of one artist featuring another. this was not at all common in the 80s and was actually exciting. now, of course, every single bit of noise what gets released (or "dropped") as a "song" has a lengthy list of "featuring" people on it. how very sad. 

anyway, of the best two, the first is on disc (what was once tape or record) one, in the form of Don't Leave Me This Way off of Communards and Sarah Jane Morris. every now and then a cover version either surpasses the original, or simply takes it in a different direction, elevating it to a whole new level. and this is such an instance. mostly, though, and to be honest, i fondly recall seeing Sarah Jane Morris in the video and on Top Of The Pops. all of us have defining moments, and for me one was, in no explicit sense, seeing her and being aware of, well, ok, i guess however i develop in life, it will be in a mostly hetero way. i can also recall seeing a girl, with her hair and fashion sense informed by Ms Morris, walking out of HMV, carrying the 12" of this single. she would have been a few years older than me and far too beautiful for me to approach, and yet the impact remains some 35 or so years down the road. i wonder if she still has the record. 

the other is on disc (or tape or record) two, which was normally reserved for the more esoteric or acquired taste songs. in this instance, hardly what you would call "pop". but i speak of Don't Give Up by Peter Gabriel and Kate Bush. strong, poignant song, and an amazing video which was haunting and of high emotional impact in its simplicity. 

do any of the songs anger or infuriate me more than the inclusion of the Nick Berry one? oddly, yes. some very painful memories are brought back by the presence of I Want To Wake Up With You by Boris Gardinder. this is an all right song, i guess, but it is guilty of blocking Frankie Goes To Hollywood from getting to number one with Rage Hard. and, as it turned out, for quite dubious and bullsh!t reasons. back in those pre-internet days, a rumour (and lie) spread that Boris "only" did the song as he needed to raise money for a heart operation, either for himself or, in some tellings, his mother or another relative. of course this was utter rubbish, a despicable falsehood, spread by promo staff and pluggers to pull at heart strings to shift copies. 

some quite exciting incursions from America on this release, too. it would be very fair to say that the 80s UK music scene was dominated by UK acts, with only the odd flash of something from across the pond. most exciting of all was Walk This Way by Run DMC, who had class jackets and hats on, and wore trainers ("sneakers") far more interesting than what you could get in England, with unusual things done with the laces. someone called Aerosmith was on it. we were unfamiliar with them, for the most part, except a vague awareness that they were supposedly an American "answer" (as in poor man's version of) to the Stones or Led Zeppelin. 

the other exciting American invasion was not the middle of the road Huey Lewis & The News included here, but of course Cameo. included here is Word Up!, which was all right but i much preferred that other one what they done, Back & Forth. no, anyway, the exciting bit was them massive bright coloured cod pieces they wore, as well as the sensational hair and moustache of that bloke what done the singing.

going oddly non non-linear, another outstanding American intervention here is What Have You Done For Me Lately off of Janet Jackson. i had forgotten what a brilliant, amazing, etc song this was. at a time when there were many. oh, to be back in a time when a whole load of effort, work, talent and money was used to produce the best three minute pop single possible. but, i guess, the kids of today dig whatever comes out in the way we did then. although the majority of what comes along now seems designed to be disposable, or just "licenced" for something or other. 

on any (possibly all) future plays of this set, it is very likely indeed that the skip button shall be pressed quite quickly when track 12 of disc (tape/record) one comes up. i just find We Don't Have To Take Our Clothes Off by Jermaine Stewart to be too whiny and tinny. also, this was not the kind of thing a thirteen year old boy wished to be hearing, thanks. no, i have no clue what "cherry wine" is, or if it is really a thing. 

further memories come back (as memories are prone to do) with the presence of In The Army Now off of Status Quo over on disc two. this wasn't a particular favourite of mine, nor was it of my brother, i suspect, but he bought it. apologies if i am wrong (which is often), but i think he bought it just as he liked the look of the 7" picture disc. pretty much a generic chant-along Quo number, in truth.

rather a satisfactory release, then, to avoid going all full tilt song by song. although, yes, Human off of Human League was a far better song than they had any business doing by that stage of their career. further, indeed The Wizard by Paul Hardcastle was, for a while, the theme off of Top of The Pops. 

but then, to my mind, missing here are the two major songs from the youth of my late summer early autumn of 1986. they would be the previously mentioned (and cruelly denied number one) Rage Hard off of Frankie, and indeed Love Missile F1-11 by Sigue Sigue Sputnik. at least i think the latter came from then. 

anyway, on to the next one, then. should there be a next one. my basic, rudimentary understanding is that volumes one to ten are going to be put out in compact disc format, if not quite as exact replicas of what came out at the time. if this remains the plan and it all happens, yes, they shall indeed be taking coins off of me for them.

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

blowing off the dust in the room where i forgot

heya

it is somewhere just (comparatively) north of a year since i last wrote of a train adventure. as circumstance seems to dictate that at least once a year i am obliged or called upon to take this form of transportation, it will be no surprise to learn that this is precisely what happened recently, look you see. 

of course, in the present time, or at the least at the time of writing (and probably still when this is being read, should it ever be read), taking a train somewhere has become, or is, a different experience than was known once before. indeed i do speak of that subject we have all grown weary and tired of. the invisible war on the new plague has made what was "normal" now very different. 

yes, in terms of the dominant and most pertinent question of train (or any) travel in this era. my journey was one that you would say is essential, for i was off to see the boys. we are not supposed to be going out and about for "trivial" matters, under various initiatives and laws all designed and set to cease the spread of this new plague. 

but, also, no, i was not quizzed or questioned as i made my journey. there have (has) been several incidents reported of people being stopped and asked what do they think they are doing being out and about, but no such incursion (or if you like intrusion) blemished my travels. my suspicion or thinking in respect of this is that we are, mostly, all being trusted to determine what is and is not essential reason for mobility, and just those who appear blatantly not complicit with such are being stopped and asked of their intention and plan. 

that said, momentarily i did fond myself in a position of incidentally, and accidentally, breaking the law. no, not in the form of the magnificent song off of Judas Priest, but still. my understanding, appreciation and acceptance was that one was required to wear one of them smart face masks on the train. i was unaware it was required on the platform too, until i saw a sign alerting me to such. so i do a sort of "oh" thing to myself and popped one on, ensuring i was compliant (complicit, perhaps) with the law before any member of the constabulary could approach. 

wearing one whilst on, or for the pedantic in, the train is of course compulsory, unless you have an exemption from such. i do not fall into that category so far as i am aware, and nor would i actively seek the means to be. should my wearing a mask in some way assist the allied efforts in the invisible war against the new plague, then i am delighted to do so. 

another reason for not wearing a virus defeating mask on the train is if one feels compelled, or urgently needs, to eat and/or drink. neither struck me as something of appeal. this lack of interest perhaps stems from my travels on the infamous Gautrain of South Africa, where the most severe criminal prosecutions and punishments are reserved for people what do that. it is, after all, far easier to arrest people just sat in a form of transport, and much cheaper than hiring cleaning staff. 

my awareness of current news affairs and related maters is somewhat limited. however, that said, yes, indeed i am familiar with how one twat journalist opted (or elected) to defy these mask laws by taking a random and for no immediate reason lengthy train journey sans mask, stretching out eating a bag of crisps (hello, Faye), what get called "potato chips" in some countries, for a coup,e of hours. unsure what point may have been made or proven with this, but no doubt there was one. 

certainly, or for sure, that is indeed a train departing from a station (the one i was at), presented in the greater good and glory of Commodore 64 mode, and as one of them "animated gif" things. no, this is not the train on which i rode, for if it were making this video thing would simply not have been possible. this, then, was the one prior to mine. i have a habit of arriving particularly early for any form of public transport, you see. even when i am just a few moments - say, the length it takes to consume a cigarette in the conventional way (sorry) - from the demarcated station. 

unless it was the case that the train i rode on was of a time generally known to be quiet, and this i doubt for someone somewhere would have cancelled the service if so, there appeared to be general compliance with all of that "emergency or vital travel only" doctrine. from what i recall, or could observe, passengers numbered less (or fewer) than ten, myself included. true, yes, cars here are now very much of a disposable cost, but i am not one who has such coins to dispose. as would seem to be a relatively straightforward observation to make, the majority (overwhelming in number) are most happy to comply with requests or laws, it is just the limited minority who(m) are not what feature in news reports and that. 

some actual, more conventional (as in regular) video of a train in action, or if you like doing its thing? there would be no reason which comes to mind preventing or precluding me from presenting such here, and i leave it to you to determine if you press the play button. unless on your side of the screen this plays automatically, i don't quite know how it actually works. 

indeed that is the train i rode on (or in) for my journey, pulling in at the station where i boarded it, or embarked. should i have a good rudimentary understanding of that term. can one word be a phrase, i wonder? maybe if bored enough i shall research that one day. 

one very dear friend, who i shall leave as anonymous (i am not sure it would be fair to mention Faye twice in this post), suggested or implied that i may wish, in my new circumstance, to take up the art or hobby of trainspotting. this i presume is in the sense of watching trains, as i now find myself in fairly close proximity to a station for such means of transport, rather than the Scottish variant, which involved needles and opiates of dubious provenance. no, i do not believe i will. perhaps, in my new loneliness and solitude, it would be a way to meet new friends and beyond, but as i have no interest in trains beyond getting somewhere i very much doubt that i should have much in common with anyone i met. also, such types appear to value privacy and the solo life. 

how was the actual train journey itself? functional and agreeable. satisfactory, even. there was but just one slight delay, and even then it was only for a couple of moments. no, a reason for it was not provided, but i have every confidence it was important. 

actually, to be honest, there was one section of the journey (bar the conclusion) which provided the splendid ways of the sentimental hygiene of nostalgia. it had (or has) been some time, perhaps thirty years, give or take (likely more) since i was on that particular section of train track. one journey i could recall on it was to go to town to visit HMV and purchase the 7" of Harlem Shuffle as recorded by The Rolling Stones. no doubt other trips were made, but that is the one which always comes to mind.

well, that would be pretty much all of that for this. yes, indeed, i shall take further train journeys of this nature. at the least until i elect or opt to obtain a car. but the cost of this train trip i took was surprisingly reasonable, and in general allows one to avoid the traffic. 

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

distressed trolley of summer

hello there

well, i am not quite so sure, or certain, that this is of summer, look you see. the clock which speaks to me, and each of us all, says we are in the phenomenon of British Summer Time, and so for an easy life i shall just go with the flow. 

so a further, if not particularly exciting (and this you can take as being warned) sighting of a trolley out of its natural environment. with the natural environment for a shopping trolley being, of course, either being melted down or waiting to be melted down in a scrap yard as quick as possible after a swift, cash is tax free transaction. failing that, every now and then one may spot a trolley or two at a supermarket or other such commercial concern. 

actually that's me being (unusually) judgemental, that bit about it being not exciting. you have come all this way, so here you go, have a look at the one what i spotted recently. spotted and was able to get a picture, or two, of. 

certainly, or most decidedly, yes, presented in the greater good and glory of Commodore 64 mode. as would be the usual, or norm, for here. i quite to think some of you, maybe most if not (quite) all, just visit here to look at things in Commodore 64 mode, rather than anything specific. 

this is, if we are honest, not the finest looking trolley what has ever been depicted or otherwise presented here. distressed, i believe, more or less covers it. from a partial distance it actually did not seem too bad, but on closer inspection (and indeed in non Commodore 64 mode) one can see that it has had a little bit of a rough innings. 

unless i am mistaken, do pay particular attention to the handlebar thing, which acts as a quasi rudimentary steering mechanism for most trolleys (trollies). it strikes me as being so that this one has undergone some form of trial by fire. 

on, or at, the front (unsure if it would be defined as near side or far side), that one wheel looks more buckled and bent than is normal for a shopping trolley. yes, believe it or not, they are indeed designed and manufactured with a slight buckle, purely because this makes them difficult to operate and because shopping trolley designers aren't particularly socially adept and do not like anyone. 

further damage seems limited to that trial by fire i mentioned earlier. looking at the non Commodore 64 mode image, it would appear to be fairly substantial. perhaps someone, for some reason, attempted to hold a barbecue in the trolley, bereft as they were of a specific barbecue device grill for such. or maybe it was just wanton vandalism, or someone new to the scrap metal scene trying to melt it down themselves with some spirit cleaner and a cigarette lighter. 

right, all that is left for me to add is yes, of course, should i see any more trollies (trolleys) or such concerns of similar interest i shall certainly try to remember to capture images and present them here. 

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

owned by an austrian

heya

so time an circumstance has facilitated, for me, the chance and opportunity to watch (considerably) more films than had been the case of late, look you see. rather than use this wisely to see a few films from the last couple of decades that i have not been or felt able to, of course i have rather gone ahead and watched a thirty seven (37) year old b (or c) grade film what i have seen a fair few times before. there is every ounce of comfort in familiarity. 

yes, then, i found myself watching Conan The Destroyer recently. this would be the thus far, and increasingly appearing to be only (sadly) sequel to the riotous, insane original Conan The Barbarian, once again featuring a prime Arnold Schwarzenegger in the titular role. for the sake of completeness, indeed i did see the remake, re-imagining of the original, starring him out of Game of Dragons and that super hero thing where he was Water Bloke or whatever; it was pretty good but like this particular film did a trifle suffer from being all rather toned down. 

provenance appears to be an important consideration for many of you reading these. well, to go back, the first time what i saw this film was early one Saturday or Sunday morning. i rented it off of petrol station at Marton Shops, back when they both let you have petrol stations right next to school and the video nasty scare really had not happened yet, so basically anyone of any age could walk into a video shop and pretty much rent any title. great days, somewhat revived by that "internet" thing, where just about anyone can access anything, irrespective of the wishes of any censors. me and a mate, who i am not sure i can mention the name of with all the fuss around privacy these days, watched it and found it to be good. subsequent to that i probably watched it another few times in the late 80s. 

i got a little distracted there. anyway, this potentially final watching of the film (to clarify Conan The Destroyer) came via one of them DVD things. one which i got really, really cheap. any by accident. on a whim i felt compelled to have some Grandmaster Flash (occasionally but by no means exclusively with the Furious Five) on the go in my vehicle as i drove around. this i found in the form of one of them free discs what newspapers gave away in the late 90s and early 00s here in the UK. someone had got a load, and was selling them off along the lines of getting 5 for the cost of 4. he had them all priced different, but i think i ended up with 5 (five) discs for just north of £4. most agreeable. indeed i have enjoyed hearing Grandmaster Flash at the correct volume once more, but surely it is more appropriate to discuss the film i have raised as an ostensible subject here. 

the plot? a vaguely but well defined thing. it seems that Conan had opted to spend his spare, or if you like free, time after Conan The Barbarian moping around the shrine to his deceased lover, praying and meditating and what have you, just waiting for people to come along to either offer him a quest or present themselves as being ready for a twatting off of his massive sword. both happen, with evil queen Sarah Douglas (out of Superman II) offering to bring his lass back to life if he succeeds with a dangerous quest. Conan finds this a most agreeable deal to broker. 

 

above is indeed one particular highlight of the quest Conan (and his chums) go(es) on, where he has to twat a great big sort of lizard type man, bearing a vague resemblance to them alien things out of V what was being made or broadcast around the same time this shall have been in production. but of course this battle requires Conan to use both his impressive strength and generally unheralded cognitive thinking, and i shall leave you to work out who may well have won the duel. 

now, rather than then, i found this to be rather comfortable, relaxing and agreeable viewing. back in my just prior to teenage years and then in early teenage years i no doubt found this very exciting, great and quite class. in the present (or of writing) time, i found it enjoyable enough to watch a movie what i more or less recalled what happened in, but was pleasantly surprised by the one or two moments i had forgotten of. maybe it is an age thing, but i find more enjoyment in watching what i know rather than committing to exploring something new, mostly. 

had i not stumbled upon the disc whilst i was looking for something else (having honestly forgotten that i purchased it), no, i probably would not have watched Conan The Destroyer again. if it were so that i was going to specifically watch an 80s made sword twatting film, then i surely would have selected or chosen the greatest of them all, the magnificence of The Sword And The Sorcerer. which, now that i think, i may well watch again soon. second choice would indeed have been Conan The Barbarian. but, as an accidental find and watch, it worked out fine. 

should it have been so that i wished, in a specific sense, to watch a Schwarzenegger film then it is equally unlikely i would have directly chosen this. my leaning would have been to once again watch his brilliant homoerotic romantic comedy Commando, or possibly the anthropological based, botany project joys of Predator. or yes, that one where he was the naked robot out of the future. but again, this one did just fine, thanks. 

there are many known flaws with the film. for some reason, and against all advice, a decision was made to attempt to make this film accessible to a wider audience than the original. doing this meant toning down several of the elements of the original. sure, there is a significant amount of decapitations and other sword based misfortunes in this film, but nowhere near as graphic or frequent as the original. also, all of that sort of thing (sex) is gone. whilst the original was a dark, gruesome and often erotic fantasy for a mature audience, this is kind of a lighter adventure thing. 

oddly, or strangely, this "toned down" version of Conan actually still worked. brilliant, or at least interesting and engaging, storytelling does not really need excessive tricks like sex and violence, nice though both are from time to time to watch. everything about this film says that there could have been more films, but at the time audiences were not particularly interested in the genre or the less saucy approach, and Schwarzenegger was not all that interested either. 

ah, yes, an unequivocal triumph of Conan The Destroyer is the very, very welcome and excellent presence of Grace Jones as a dangerous, somewhat demented wandering (and very violent) bandit type character. she is class in general, and i would say this is her finest film moment. of course, many would quite reasonably argue her greatest moment was that time when Sir Roger Moore very nearly got, to be frank, f****d to death off of her as May Day in A View To A Kill, which was agreeable. but here at least she has considerably more to do that use her apparently immense sexual prowess to knack Sir Roger, and does so with class and style. 

for those of us in the UK (or as it was, if them with no grasp of reality or in particular economics get their way and break the union so as to live in squalor), there was a somewhat more direct in terms of interest in the cast of the film. 

yes, quite poorly filmed off of the tele by me but still, that is indeed Pat Roach, better known as Bomber out of Auf Wiedersehen Pet. or however one spells it, much like English i would not say languages are a strong point for me. here, in Conan The Destroyer, rather than playing a bricklaying wrestler, he is cast as some sort of warlock or wizard, the keeper of a massive diamond what is needed to unlock the horn for some statute or other. 

Bomber out of Auf Wiedersehen Pet (or whatever) actually had a fairly strong cinematic career in the early 80s. from memory, i believe it was so that he ended up getting twatted twice by Indiana Jones in two different films. also, he twatted Sir Sean Connery a bit in Never Say Never Again, before getting twatted by Sir Sean. he appeared not to get cast in any romantic roles, or anything overtly dramatic. 

the final scene of Conan The Destroyer (perhaps i should have put a spoiler warning somewhere, but never mind now) promised a third installment, be it King Conan or Conan The Conqueror, with the latter likely to maintain a sequence of titles. despite being mooted, and finance being solicited, over the course of the last thirty or so years, it never got made. a bit of a shame, really, as there was every potential to make decent adventures with the whole concept, but there we go. 

perhaps i shall go and buy a somewhat larger telly (or tele) than what i am currently using, which is a serviceable but limited 19" (i think) screen one. this, i think, would be an appropriate and respectable thing to do to watch The Sword & The Sorcerer once more, now that the film has come to mind. class, it was, full of all sorts of violence and nudity and what have you. well, mostly them two. 

right, well, that would be that. i mean there is probably more i could say on the subject, but i would imagine doing so shall just test the patience of anyone reading.

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

maybe, possibly

howdy pop misser outers

bit of a grumble, moan or even complaint (kind of) sort of post here, look you see. so, if such would not seem to be of interest to you, move along now. 

one or two of you might well have noticed that i quite like David Bowie. generally, writing his name on something is a pretty easy way to have me hand over money for it. the Bowie Estate clocked that i am not alone in this, and recently released, at a rate of one a month, six Brilliant Live Adventures recordings. 

for some inexplicable (and annoying) reason, they decided to make these "limited edition". so, you had to be very f*****g fast to get your order in as and when they announced the next set. it was so that with some sheer luck and good fortune i was in this very position for the first five. but not the sixth.

in an interesting and unexpected (as in totes f*****g stupid) move, they decided to announce the final volume a week earlier than the pattern. also, they only bothered to email us, on the mailing list and registered, about this after it was all sold out. so, i was resigned to missing out. no biggie, really, there are some releases (not many, true) that i have not bothered with, and the set on this sixth just looked like an abridged version of the fifth.

evidently (or apparently) i am not the only one to be irked by this. it never ceases to amaze me, and i am the one supposedly overweight and out of date, how some seek to actively limit their market on the limitless marketplace what is the internet. this mail turned up recently, which would seem to indicate that they are now "aware" of how Bowie fans will happily give the Bowie Estate money if only you just f*****g let them do that, please, rather than touts, scalpers and chancers on ebay (and similar).

that would seem to suggest i might be able to purchase the "missing part" at some unspecified date. however, i, we, have been here before with them, and i am taking nothing for granted. certainly i am not going to assume they will just make it easy for us to do something as basic as buy a record. 

no idea exactly how "limited" these limited editions have been. what i do know, however, is that there is about one hundred (100) copies of this sixth one listed on eBay, with the resell price usually very well north of £50. so yes, fans have had a "poor shopping experience" but apparently the opportunistic have done very well from it. and why make it "limited" in the first instance? maybe just take orders for a set period of time and press as many copies as there are fans ready to throw money at you? 

anyway, roaming rant over (for now). if they make it simple for me to purchase this missing one, then great, nice one, but i shall not lose too much sleep if they arse around again and decide no, actually, they do not wish to have my coins of cash.

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

some water

hello there

not all that much (as if there ever is, look you see), really. just an unusual, or peculiar solution to a water issue which i recently witnessed. but, and i do mean but, hang on. i am absolutely not an expert in this (or any other) field, so please do not take this as me being critical. just, well, surprised. 

circumstances, or life in general, led to me being rather keenly or even acutely aware of a water supply issue with a particular building. these issues, or problems, emerged and became evident a mere month after some upgrades and enhancements were made to it all, with the promise that they would make something which worked perfectly well even better. alas, this is how the modern world works - anything that is just fine as it is gets f****d with by someone who knows better and is made worse. 

unless, of course, there is some method or reason here i am unaware of, or just too overweight and out of date to comprehend. i fail to see how taking a perfectly working and stable water supply and turning it into one which fails to deliver water on a frequent basis is an improvement. maybe this brave new generation of today knows something which i do not, and it is so. but i doubt it. 

from what i could gather, presented here in the greater good and glory of Commodore 64 mode, of course, the solution to a lack of water was to create a precision, any mason would be proud of hole in a wall, shove a big pipe in it and make an attempt to produce a brand new lake (or river) to the maps of our land with the "excess" or "overflow". in absolute fairness this did mean that the taps within all of a sudden worked as they are supposed to, and once did prior to "upgrades". this, however, seemed a little bit like an excessive waste of a precious resource. 

did i by any chance make one of them animated gif things of all of this? indeed i did. however, it was quite early in the morning, and my system had not yet booted up with the requisite levels of coffee and cigarettes. quite a brain melt moment happened, then, and so i filmed it sideways. that said, here you go, enjoy anyway. 

the answer is yes, at some stage a water mender did make a further visit and mended it, or did something so that water did not just gush out, and no new river or lake was created, saving our hard pressed map makers (cartologists or something i think) from doing any work. also, and so far, the taps have remained in a working fashion. for now. 

it is with some certainty that i can say sure, indeed, if i see any further exciting things like this then i will try and record them for you, preferably the right way around. even if they are not quite so exciting as this, i will do my best. 

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

laced

hi

so who knew, then, that during the great invisible war on the new plague, someone somewhere would make the decision of shoe and other related footwear items would be classified as non-essential. i am one who has, alas, learned of this, or discovered it, over the course of the last week or so, look you see. 

it was during the last throes of March when i, it would be fair to say, damaged my shoelaces. well. not my shoe laces as such; rather (purple) ones i "borrowed" off of my (now sort of estranged i suppose, but at the time) (considerably) better half after the ones i had in place on my shoes snapped. them purples ones were rather fetching, and served their purpose for a time which could, i think, be measured in months. 

to say that these purple ones snapped would be incorrect. it was more so that they sort of frayed, an event which saw the cotton or nylon (or whatever) protective cover (sheath, if you will) give way, exposing some sort of flexible but not stretchy sort of elasticated spine. from that moment on they were, bluntly and frankly, incapable of doing what i needed them to do. 

as it happens, yes, i am (or was) sort of organised (organized?) enough to do something like have spare pair(s) of laces about for such instances. but such foresight and planning fell a distance short of what was needed. it turned out that the laces what i had in reserve, measuring according to the packet text 75cm each, were woefully short for what my shoes required. sure, i went full tilt and re-laced the shoes with them, but there was nowhere near enough left at the end of the lacing bit to actually tie them. 

normally, or usually, when one required something to do with shoes, one would pop along to a shoe and other such footwear emporium of repute, or similar. in respect of the latter, say, Sports Direct, run by that nice Mike Ashley what is worshipped in Newcastle. sadly, such places are presently, momentarily closed. deemed non-essential they are, as it happens, as we wage the invisible war on the new plague. for some new laces, then, i was reduced, quivering, to being at the mercy of what not specifically shoe based shops had in stock. ranges and options were limited and not as satisfactory as they may or even might have been. 

yes, thank you, i am indeed aware (and appreciate) that i could have "gone done internet" and ordered some more of them off of a web thing. but, dear reader, every now and then one needs something a good deal sooner than when an online poster sends it and Royal Mail or other such messenger gets around to delivering. consider an instance where, for a random example, you discovered that your arse, or some other bodily element, was on fire. i would speculate - even wager - that you would immediately seek some water to extinguish such, and not simply gaze at various web pages to find an item suitable to resolve your dilemma. exact same principle applies to shoe laces, i believe.

my best guess for you is that the above shoelaces are of a New Zealand provenance, for one does not see a company from any other nation brandishing themselves Kiwi. not unless they wish to have an argument with the people of NZ. it was on my second trip to shops to seek shoe laces that i discovered these, measuring 180cm (each) and costing an agreeable, reasonable £1.60 per pair. or set, if that is how you would describe them. but a pair of shoe laces works for me. much in the way that "a pair of twins" does not, for that would seem to imply four (4) people. 

very much so, yes, 180cm would be in excess of twice (as in 2 times) the length of the initial laces i tried and so woefully failed to apply to my shoes. but these are testing, challenging times for obtaining shoe laces, dear reader. i knew full well that these would be too f*****g long, but my experiences said just get them and make do; that it would on the basis of what i had tried be better to have some what were too long rather than further which were too short. 

no, you are not mistaken, i did reference this purchase as being the second trip i made in search of some shoe laces for (ahem) shoes. there was, earlier in that week, an effort to procure some off of a supermarket. let me type here that it did not go at all well, but also accept and note that the next picture does a sterling job of stressing this. 

unfortunately the supermarket was far too busy selling Easter Eggs and similar to give too much floor space to shoelaces. these 120cm noticeably white laces were the only ones what they had on offer. as i needed laces longer than what i had of course i bought them. a speculative thought would be that they might actually work out against the (Spinal Tap none more) black trainers ("sneakers" if American) i had. it is simply not so, and i felt like i looked like more of a twat than what is even usual, which is quite a statement. putting white laces on black shoes made me, briefly, seem like some refugee from the mock quasi ska two tone lip up fatty pressure drop prince buster wars. very much an English thing, what the Americans copied and made a bit more exciting by using something exotic called "gangsta rap", and then doing a drive by shooting with a gun off of a car, rather than just some loud shouting. 

with every confidence that them presumed to be New Zealand laces would (or might) be too long, i carried on, seeking other shops what may sell laces. to this end, i did indeed find some further. having no wish to leave unsecured shoes a chance possibility, i did indeed buy yet more, even though they were presented at an eye watering, wallet f*****g price. 

can't say that i had ever heard of Timpsons (of Manchester), except the shop unit thing looked a bit familiar. now i certainly have. whereas laces off of New Zealand cost £1.60 (a pair), these bespoke ones, out of the far closer Manchester, cost considerably more. hang on, let me see if i can still do a percentage. yes, i think so. Kiwi laces are south of 38% of the cost of these ones from Manchester, then. 

despite this eye watering cost, of course i bought some. one pair 140cm in length, and black, and one pair 150cm in length, with them being a hybrid colour thing of red, black and green, which feels like a flag mix. Jamaica, maybe, but i think they might have yellow in their flag (yes just done a check). as it turns out, i have deployed (or used) the black 140cm ones, and they appear to be perfect for what i need of them. the remaining ones are then spares. 

right, in the last week i have spent a fair bit on shoelaces. probably a significant fraction, or percentage, of what i would reasonably expect, or at the least be prepared, to spend on a new pair of shoes entire. which, looking at these and the use i have had of them, might be the next expenditure i make. that must be put on hold, of course, until the invisible war against the new plague has reached a point where the powers that be agree to allow shops of shoes to open once more. 

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

fifth and final of six, then. oh.

howdy pop pickers

well, this was likely or most decidedly bound to happen, look you see. in an ideal world it would have been so that i would have taken delivery of the sixth (of six) and final edition of Brilliant Live Adventures off of David Bowie. with thanks to the ludicrous decision to impose a self-defeating limit on the number the press, and the fact that they appeared only to email their mailing list that it was available after it had sold out, i missed out on it. oh. 

hey ho, time, then, for a delayed reflection, listen and consideration to volume five of these Brilliant Live Adventures of varying qualities of brilliance. which is (as i shall moan, whine or complain about later) the final one in my set, then. and what a way for it to (unexpectedly) finish, for this, Something In The Air, recorded in Paris (of all places) during 1999, is true, sheer brilliance. 

it's just beautiful. on first hearing it i commented to a friend (no, i don't have too many, but still there are one or two who remain) that my honest reaction was, with a tear in my eye, to fall in love with David Bowie just that little bit more, all over again. this is just unrelentingly excellent (brilliant, if you like) from start to finish, and oh how if only all live albums were woven from the same as this. 

just why is it so good, so f*****g good, if you insist on using strong words so as to underline the point? to an extent the set list helps, but mostly - dominantly - this recording is the sound of David Bowie being perfectly comfortable, at ease and at one with with being David Bowie in a universal sense. here stands a Bowie not channelling a persona, not playing what he presumes an audience wants, not seeking to go on a jazz odyssey to showcase how he will do what he likes. just a Bowie aware that he has composed some pretty amazing songs over the years and has taken great delight in finding, by this stage at last, that the ones he loves are (were) those we loved too, and hearing him enjoy them just as much is the only expectation there ever was. 

but also, mind, what one hell of a set this is. gone, now, are the audience testing experiments of Outside and Earthling. left behind is the compulsion to reclaim The Man Who Sold The World as his own. most generously represented here is hours....., the then new album for which the tour was in support or if you like promotion of. a very perfectly selected five, and each of them sends a message of how that album is perhaps better, more complex and worthy of rediscovery than anyone may have considered in the last twenty or so years. 

a large (substantial) chuck of what is in the set here turned up in the VH1 Storytellers thing, which once more i say is a CD & DVD set which absolutely anyone should go out and seek, watch, listen to and enjoy. in fact i think, without going and getting it off of the shelf, all on that is here. 

highlights of a musical nature is an interesting one. i think the tear formed in my eye at first when Word On A Wing commenced, one of the most beautiful moments on what, if i was absolutely forced to select one as such, is what i'd consider his magnum opus, Station To Station. but if i had to take just one album to a desert island, or my grave, i don't know how i would choose between that and The Buddha Of Suburbia, so let us hope i am not forced to decide any time soon. 

perhaps the "strongest", or most significant, performances here are of the songs from hours....., with Survive and borrowed to be the titular track Something In The Air being the finest. that is not to take anything at all away from the remainder. the stripped down, perhaps borrowing in concept from Talking Heads' Stop Making Sense opener, Life On Mars? is frankly astonishing. reworked and re-imagined (or as he would have no doubt said "subverted") renditions of Always Crashing In The Same Car and I Can't Read (yes, the Tin Machine one) are extremely noteworthy. 

now i find myself glancing at the tracklisting to see what else i should highlight. and now all i can think of to say is there is not a single wasted moment here. each and every song is a cracker, each and every performance is, within the context of a live recording, perfection. of the large number of official Bowie live releases, this one immediately sits in the "essential" box, nicely next to Santa Monica 72 and Welcome To The Blackout. 

one major, big plus here is the sound of him engaging with the audience. he, Bowie is just so damned relaxed and having fun, clearly enjoying the awe, adulation and admiration of the audience but at last knowing a context for it, and just being himself with it all. there is absolutely no way at all this should have been limited down in number, being merely "number five" of a set. fuss and fanfare is what i hear demanded every time i play this disc, and it has been played a lot. 

go on then, moan and groan. so, i missed out on volume six. which turned out to be him live in his beloved New York, at something called the Kit Kat. most of us were expecting the recorded but never released Astoria gig, but no matter. a great shame not to have the full set, but hey. it is not like i have every single release by him. what i do have, however, for over thirty years is a strong track record for buying anything they wish or care to put the name "Bowie" on. should his Estate no longer wish for my money, then that is fine, it is not like i am short of recordings off of him to play. 

just left baffled (to continue the moan) by the decision made here. why, exactly, did they limit the number available. leave aside not letting people know before the scalpers bought most if not all of them. fans like me are sat here perfectly happy to give them money for the disc, and they say no. don't hate the players, hate the game, but all that has happened here is some opportunists have pre-ordered it and are now relisting it on the great car boot sale of the internet for prices north of £50. for a single CD, which features a much shorter but same songs still appear track list that's found on Something In The Air. perhaps they will be able to sell to the desperate to complete the set for such prices; from me the answer is best of luck but get f****d if you think i am paying that much for it. 

as i commented on one of the previous Brilliant Live Adventure things, this live compact disc a month was getting exhausting, and felt like it had reached a saturation point. what a wonderful way to finish it off all early, then. whereas the first one was somewhat underwhelming, this (in my case) final one exceeds all expectations of brilliance. 

where next for us fans, at the mercy of the Bowie Estate and what they choose, or elect, to release next? i have no idea. stacks and stacks of high quality concert recordings remain on the shelf. also, the 50th anniversary of two iconic, incredible albums (Hunky Dory and of course Ziggy Stardust) looms in the next twelve or so months. my wallet is already starting to bleed. 

i see no sense in doing a complete overview of (ahem) all five releases of this six edition Brilliant Live Adventures business. my comment along the way have probably said all that could be said to anyone who wished to listen. but, for a short view, of them really it was just numbers two, four and very much five that came in at a standard one would not disagree with the "brilliant" label being applied. one and three can just sit on the shelf, unlikely to be damaged by means of excessive play. 

be brilliant to each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!