vaccination two (electric boogaloo)

hello again

at the very great, and real, risk of this being a kind of diary (or even dairy) style parody of Dr Jekyll & Mr Hyde, this is being composed some (Nigel Tufnell) 11 hours after the matter, and is being published about ten days north of it all. i speak, or write, look you see, of my adventures in plague vaccination. for anyone wishing to, for some reason, read of my first such odyssey, here you go, here is a link to it. 

in the rather more likely circumstances that you simply cannot be bothered to look at the previous, yet for some reason insist on reading here, that first one went fairly well. the injection went just fine, with me conversing with a nurse about my designated vaccination. in short, i said i was delighted to be having the one that the French were oh, so scare of, and she responded by saying that the French were a bunch of ungrateful swines about it all. viva Macron, etc. 

how, or what, did i feel prior to this second go? nervous, nerves and fear. whilst i am not sure i have all that particularly much left to live for, and a majority would probably suggest the world would be just fine without me, i have no realistic wish to cease to be, and need suffer no more than i do by just being moi. i was one of the ones that had scant, or little, in the way of side affects (effects) off of the first, with it just being the arm that got twatted one with it being rather tender for a few days. some who i know that had experienced the second, though, found that it absolutely f****d them, and they cautioned me that it would f*** me, too. or words to that effect, actually possibly more vulgar, too. 

the picture above is perhaps not one that one (that is, you) would freely associate with the tale of vaccination, but bear with me. or don't, feel free to read something else. so, nerves did have the better of me, and i found that i was popping out side to spectacularly fail in quitting or cutting down considerably in respect of anything cigarette related (sorry). on one such instance of this, i felt a tap upon my shoulder, and then i did not. i looked behind, and all around, and then spotted the culprit of such contact, hence the picture above. 

unless i am quite mistaken, this is one of the now more grown baby birds off of the nest what was made within my (if one can have such) preferred ashtray of choice. a reassuring sign, this, for if they are now leaving the nest then it can revert to the original purpose, thanks. anyway, at first i thought this was all rather lovely, especially the way in which he, or she, looked at me as if to say "ok, what now, dude". but then, in my state of fear, remembered that the Romans (and whatever they have done for us) had some phobia about contact with birds at certain times. i think it was that if a specific type of bird flew into a house then it was that someone was to die, yet i assumed it to be an omen, informing me that i was to follow the river of death down the stream. quite apt, since this second one was at the Riverside. 

yet no, for death did not befall me as such as of yet as a consequence of this vaccination of a second instance. if it is to be a "vaxecution", a form of state sponsored assassination previously discussed, then this must be a fairly slow acting one. rather a remarkable bit of chemical warfare, if so. some side effects, or affects if that is correct, but of marginal, variation interpretation. 

sure, an obligatory selfie, post-vaccination, or post-execution, should i in fact be deceased as a consequence of it. indeed the nurse did ask if i wanted the sticker to say that i had been vaccinated and i said yes, thank you. free vaccination against the plague and a free sticker too, if one excludes the costs out of my taxes and being an unpaid guinea pig for a thing what in theory should work just fine. this is me in the obligatory, purgatory "just in case" detention. on the first instance i had to do fifteen minutes of detention as i was driving, but as in this case i took a train and also walked it was a five minute slap on the wrist form of it. 

for formality, or declaration, the nurse went through all with me. apparently the "clot" risk has thus far only been recorded after the first vaccination, not the second. i thanked her for the reassurance, but did point out (once again) that, as a smoker, it was rather late in life for me to be getting all big fanny about introducing things to my body what might cause a clot, blood or otherwise. in furtherance of advice, the nurse said that a whole wide range of side effects/affects had been reported, and that the best thing i could do, in truth, was take it easy. which, of course, i took as meaning to go and walk for several miles, purchasing variations of trousers, some socks, unexpected aftershave and private garments (by which i mean some boxer shorts). 

rather unexpectedly it was so that the nurse, or other such medical practitioner (who(m) i shall take as a given was licenced or whatever to do so) who injected me seemed particularly impressed, indeed pleased, that i was not a "bleeder" post-injection. no, i have absolutely no idea if that is a common thing, or something that i should have done. add all of your own "if it bleeds we can kill it" comments, lines, get to the chopper, etc. 

paranoia, perhaps, did indeed drive, or inspire me to consult my tarot deck, and the tribute log off of Log Lady out of Twin Peaks to see what unwritten future would unfold with this second injection. yes, of course, i did the reading exactly as was prescribed in that boss documentary, which weirdly i would watch again and again so maybe i will get a disc of it at some stage. would probably have to find the proper title for it to do so. so, anyway, exactly what fortune or fate did the cards speak of? that i cannot say, and yes, no, maybe. 

just what side affects/effects have i (thus far) experienced? well, within an hour i got kind of nervy, in truth, as my whole left side felt wobbly, then, frozen, then stiff. but, as outlined earlier (above), i simply put my big girl pants on and walked it off. i have felt a bit breezy, whimsical and lucid for much of the time since the injection. a bit drowsy, really. not that exhausted tired, but that kind of drowsy, tired, like what Snake Plissken was (a bit) at the end of The Thing, maybe. which might be construed as an entirely unintended metaphor (or whatever), now that i think, but here we are. 

my understanding is that my tour of duty in the invisible war against the new plague is now done. they, the powers that be, or whoever, decreed two (2) vaccination injections are required, and that is what i have now done. do i have my doubts, or concerns, about all this vaccination ambition? quite probably. but, all i know is that they say this is the best ticket out of this right f*****g mess we are in, and is likely to be the only way to give the world back to the generations to come. if the absolute worst of this injection business is that it takes me out, then maybe this is not so bad. should these vaccinations prove futile in the war, then we can at least all stop f*****g around, get on with life and let what happens then happen. but also plus points if this works like they reckon. 

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

a corner of the morning in the past

howdy pop pickers

well, here we are, another month and another discussion of throwing money at, or in the general direction of, the David Bowie estate. actually, this was out last month, look you see, or for clarity May. i could only collect my copy in the early days of June, and here we are at the conclusion of the month. yes, pretty much that much enthusiasm to discuss it. 

in this instance, what they (the Bowie Estate) took the monthly £20 or so off of me for was The Width Of A Circle, a 2 (two) CD set released to ostensibly extend the celebrations of the 50th anniversary of The Man Who Sold The World. as the only other celebration of consequence was the frankly poor "new mix" of the album, released as Metrobolist or something, this was kind of welcome. but, ultimately, baffling that they should mass produce a set of average to poor quality recordings, many of which were already available, yet frustrate fans by making high quality, previously unreleased stuff all "limited edition".

there was much excitement from your humble narrator when they announced the title of this one, for it has always been so that The Width Of A Circle is one of my all time top tunes by Bowie. initially i had some hopes that it would mostly be a celebration of this epic track, but not so much. yes it features, twice, as it happens. well, one and half, kind of. this is not the most times one song is repeated across this set. 

essentially, or in practical terms, the bulk (or business end) of disc one is stuff that a significant number of the Bowie market would already have. i am not certain, and i really cannot be pedantic enough to check, but if not all then nearly all of these recordings were on that (good) Bowie At The Beeb set from the early 2000s, if not late 2000 itself. whereas i am not adverse, or against, buying the same music again and again, my feeling on playing the first disc for the first time was that, in all likelihood, this was to also be the last time i would play it. 

from a "collector", or of historical significance perspective, there is value here. should i recall right, in terms of what is written in the book and what was said during the radio show presented on the disc, this features Bowie playing in public with Mick Ronson for the first time, with the two of them meeting just days before it all. they would indeed go on to do somewhat better that the offerings here. 

mostly, or for the most part, what i took off of this listening to disc one was just how f*****g good the songs he (Bowie) did for his "second debut" or "debut proper" are. although one or two to feature here didn't turn up on records until a future date, of course. those with an ear, or interest, in the history of a song, or how it develops, may well enjoy hearing the early incarnation (incantation, even) of The Width Of A Circle, which is played with the confession that it is incomplete. glad they eventually finished it. 

just how many versions of London Bye Ta Ta they, the Bowie Estate, believes that the world wants, or even needs, is interesting. i mean, the first time i ever heard it was on the original SoundAndVision box set from, what, 89 or 90. that has done me fine, but now i have a wide range to choose from, if for some reason i ever wished to hear the song again. actually, that's being unfair. of all the material out there, or here, London Bye Ta Ta stands out a bit as "transitional". it's almost like it was during this song that Bowie can be heard transitioning from the "music hall" narrative he had for, say, When I'm Five and of course The Laughing Gnome to the sound and feel of his early "glam" incarnation. a compelling case suggests London Bye Ta Ta was, or is, the first step towards Ziggy Stardust, after some detours. 

the sound quality on disc two (2) is much, much better, thank you. but, outside of the oddity of the Looking Glass Murders which as a completest is nice to have on disc, again the good (great) songs on offer are ones which either don't vary from the already released versions, or don't bring all that much of difference to them. certainly a plus is Waiting For The Man, which was Bowie's staple Velvet Underground cover at any gig, until he dropped it and did White Light / White Heat instead. a great shame, as Waiting For The Man is the better song. 

one major triumph of this set is the lavish, extensive book what comes with, or rather in, it. wasn't sure what to expect, but this is amazing. actually genuinely not really often seen pictures, and really good material to read. sadly, though, this is the Bowie Estate, and they are ruthless in finding ways to perfectly f*** any good idea they have. due to the elaborate packaging, the book is welded into the case, making it awkward to read and appreciate it full. oh, well. 

going back to the music, and but of course we are treated to some more "2020 Mix" shenanigans off of Tony Visconti. whereas what he did with Space Oddity was brilliant, what he did with Man Who Sold The World as Metrobolist (or whatever) was not, and this is more of the latter. effectively what these new "mixes" are turns out to be softening the music, elevating the vocal track and making sound a trifle more crisp (hello, Faye). presuming that you are not simply streaming, these "mixes" are pretty much what you could fiddle with a decent stereo with and make yourself. but here, he has saved you the effort of fiddling with the knobs. 

any more complaints? of course. why record companies insist on using this kind of packaging i know not, but it is really infuriating. the discs get "jammed" in this kind of jewel case, and eventually you are going to either snap a disc or break the box getting one out. please stop it. 

i'd be quite interested to know how many copies of this they shifted, really. obviously one would hope a lot, but as a frantic, passionate Bowie fan that will throw money at anything with his name on it, even i can see and accept that this has superbly limited interest or appeal. should this end up selling less than the ludicrously limited Brilliant Live Adventures fiasco, where there was far more demand that there was supply, i do wonder if they will learn a lesson. probably not. 

looming large on the horizon are, of course, (quasi) significant anniversaries for Hunky Dory and the one shortened in name to Ziggy Stardust. goodness knows how badly battered my financial state shall be left by them, assuming they make something which is straightforward to buy. one, or we, can only hope that they take a "we all love these albums, let us celebrate them properly" approach, whilst accepting that some kind of "fiddled with by Tony Visconti" shall be included. 

should you rush off and purchase this, if you have not already done so? kind of yes, weirdly. the question is, does one get £20 (or so) value from this. the songs that you may listen to more than once added to the book conclude with an answer of yes, indeed. just. 

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

of nature finding a way

hello there

quite an unusual (and unexpected, look you see) thing happened to me not so long ago. recently, if you like. by chance, in respect of failing to quit or cut down considerably, i found myself having a cigarette. after this most enjoyable experience, i went to extinguish it, disposing of the remnants (the "butt" if you would or will) as responsibly as is possible. go Greta, etc.

something was not as it should have been. there are many, many facets - aspects, indeed - to an ashtray, be it a fancy one or a rudimentary, functional type. one such is generally not sound. yet sound permeated the air around the ashtray, with that in itself clearly being the source. further investigation appeared wise and appropriate, so i did so. 

oh. right. good. a nest, great. 

whereas there are many things i profess not to be expert or knowledgeable on, it is a universally acknowledge fact that i have limited intelligence in respect of nature, or wildlife. but yet even i am very much aware that placing an extinguished cigarette inside a bird's nest - even if that nest was a designated area for such - is unwise. 

how about some video? sure. when i initially peeked inside they were chirping away, probably for food rather than a cigarette, but by the time my act was together enough to film they had retired momentarily to sleep. 

just what do i do now, then, since my preferred ashtray (if it is even possible to have such a thing) has been culturally appropriated? well, use another. one reasonably close appeared to also have become a new home for some birds, so that was out. but, somewhere further down by the river, i did locate one which so far no flying creature has made a ground based home. so i shall use that. 

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

hi ho sing blue cloud silver lining

hey there

another dive (or delve) into the world of fags, look you see. which is to say cigarettes, friends in America, which is what fags are, and not the quasi colloquialism intended in a frightfully derogatory way you seem to thing it is. goodness, you would blush if you went ahead and used the term "fanny" here, for the proper meaning is also not really what you think. 

so, experimentation was to be had with another variation of another brand. not my usual choice, although i did do an accidental detour with them not so long ago, but not this variation. that would be, or is, the original silver variation of the fags of Lambert & Butler. 

for those pedantic or easily led, yes, disclaimer time, smoking is quite silly, don't do it, seek help, quit now, etc, and so on. or, as an alternate, be a functioning adult, make your own decisions. 

provenance of these particular fags? a good (verk) colleague and indeed friend, as it happens. he was as delighted to hand them over as i was to receive them, but more on that later. 

there is indeed some cognitive dissonance, if not reluctance, from me in respect of Lambert & Butler. at moments of time of whatever youth i had i can recall they had an association with the less glamorous, possibly more unsavoury style of smoker. i tended to follow the sophistication and class of Marlboro, leaving other brands to the rough, the "hard" and what have you. but, we are in different times now. 

if i recall right, my other, recent incursion into the world of Lambert & Butler (i believe a variation called something Blue something) wasn't at all bad. nothing of fear, then, in giving these silver ones a bash, so as to see how they were. 

not at all bad, as it happens. rather discernibly lighter than my preference, but at least of some taste. for some reason one of the things to vanish off of fag packets has been the nicotine and tar content, so it is not possible to determine (or ascertain) exactly how much "lighter" these are than Marlboro, or the reliable (as in cheap) Players Red i hammer during the week, but somewhere down light they are. 

good enough for me to consider a switch too on a more permanent, or even ad hoc, basis? regrettably not so much, no. truly, they are rather good, but i simply have no wish to project myself as a "Lamberts man", whatever that may entail, or not. but still, lovely to know an alternate exists. 

but, for how long does remain a question. a news article (or feature) i observed in passing, as recently as a weekend a week or so ago, suggested that "the UK", and by that i assume the government, intends to make the country "smoke free" by 2030. this i shall assume, or take simply as a given, that they propose to absolutely f*** me and many others over with yet more taxes, driving all the more demand for the cheaper, independent, saves on the paperwork types of sellers. oh if only i could find one. 

quite nearly three (3) packets of these reasonably smart fags, then. one complete pack of twenty, as is now the regulation, and two with just a few missing, from moments where my chum forgot that he no longer smokes, dabbled and yet regretted it. i am very, very happy to help him try his very best to maintain a smoke free life. 

does the proposal of a smoke free nation within a decade concern me? not particularly. whereas all available scientific evidence ("fact") available says i am immortal, very little of my life, my frame of mind, or anything gives any indication that i would be there to see such a sad day. to do so would, if i have got the mathematics correct, mean that i should have existed longer in a century i have nothing but disdain and contempt for, and be ever further away from the one i knew and understood. let us, or just me, see how the cards are dealt for this one. 

momentarily, then, just some further testing of these splendid fags. and they are fags what are splendid, for any which come gratis, free, as a gift, are truly exceptional. 

little else remains for me to add here, bar the reinforcement of them disclaimers about what a silly thing smoking is, and how you should not do it, etc. we smokers do tend to get blamed for all of the ills in society and the wider world; it is not a club of which membership is desirable. but, f*** it. 

right, well, whilst i am still here i do have one or two other things to do what are not smoking, or writing of such. not all that many things, to be sure, but still. 

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

responsum est in quaestione

salve est

recently, then, i went shopping. as is quite common a thing to happen, an impulse purchase did very get much made. whilst i knew it would be tricky and cumbersome to carry home, on seeing a log shaped and styled cushion i had to buy it, look you see. 

just like anyone else, i like to think (for thinking such keeps me teetering on whatever the right side of whatever sanity is), i have not been able to see or observe a log for somewhere over 30 years without immediately having thoughts drawn to the Log Lady out of Twin Peaks. which, of course, meant that this cushion thing was an immediate purchase. no, it's not a particularly good one; it has that kind of quasi smooth and shiny surface which is quite slippery and therefore not all that comfortable. but, still, the Log Lady out of Twin Peaks and that. or just that. 

with it being of little practical use, and of negligible ornamental or display value (for no one visits me and who one earth would), the question posed was "what to do with it", then. kind of. having given the matter a (reasonably) good think. a decision was made.  

yes, what with it being summer solstice and all that, i did indeed put it to work. bringing together my enthusiasm for vague references to partially remembered quirky television shows and my dabbling with the dark arts made a form of sense, so that is precisely what i did. 

for anyone unaware yet strangely interested, it was not so long ago (here is the link to it) that i discovered, via an online purchase and watching a documentary on the subject (see link for details of the latter), that i had the power of tarot. kind of. utilising the evocation of the Log Lady out of Twin Peaks with this struck me as being in some way efficient, if not all that good an idea. 

speaking of striking, yes, of course. as per the documentary i saw on the subject, before the tarot cards are turned, the turner (or who or what future fortune unwritten legend shall be proclaimed by the ceremony) the deck must be tapped three (3) times. not just two, and five is right out. one of the animated "gif" things of this part of the ceremony? certainly. 

no, i do not consider it either wise or trivial to dabble with the mystical ways of these dark arts. but, i figure, whatever shall be shall be anyway, so why not. 

also, i would suspect you are not really interested in reading much of anything else, but would wish to see the result of the cards drawn. here you go. 

it would not be for me to interpret the cards tapped by the log for you, or anyone else. but, that said, i think it is pretty clear what the cards doth spake of something. interpret as you will. 

drained, i truly am being, by using my special powers so. rest, i now must, retire to the darkness, i shall indeed. 

videtur quod non strutionum!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

eventual reading

hello reader

yes, after something of an accidental hiatus, back to having a look at what i have been reading. or, in the case of one, have been avoiding reading. hence the title, and the delay in this sort of post, look you see. so, some reading done, and as usual not just one novel (for i seldom read non-fiction), not as many as three or even five, but two. 

it has indeed taken me somewhere just north of three (3) months to read these two, too. one would reasonably have thought i would have read more, and faster, what with my era of exile providing me, with theoretically being the key, more time of my own device. however, i did that thing where i found that i did not particularly care, at all, for one of them. in such cases common sense goes away, and for some reason i feel compelled to complete reading such a work, no matter how dire and dull it is. 

as once was the "norm", then, a look at the two (2) what i read, followed by some brief, all important spoiler free comments on each. for those in a rush, or indeed for those who for some reason wish to know what i think of anything, yet this only in a brief, quasi executive summary way. 

the really, really dull one was the dire American Gods by celebrated writer Neil Gaiman. basically it is completely borrowed and stolen stuff, made dull and complete sh!t, easily the biggest literary disappointment to have befallen me for around about one quarter of what you mortals know as a century. sh!t in an entirely different way was The Demon Club off of Scott Mariani. yes, another of them Ben Hope books what he does. ludicrously enjoyable reading, but sub par, below average stuff which carries the scent of "contractual obligation, this will do". 

for those still reading who are not sure if they read on that some spoilers will come, here you go, mainly just for you a *** SPOILER WARNING *** thing. also, fans, advocates, disciples, fans and acolytes of this Neil Gaiman fellow would be well served to basically, and effectively, f*** off and f*** off now, for you will not like what you read here, and you shall get just all worked up and upset when you knew you would. rather just go and read more of what he does that you seem to think is so f*****g wonderful. 

ok, righty-ho, starting where i did, then, does indeed mean starting with this American Gods off of that Neil Gaiman fellow. and once again, those who adore him should do well to see the previous paragraph. 

provenance of my copy? well, one (very good) friend suggests i have a bootleg edition of it, but i got it off of that The Works shop, for £3. the hook, appeal or reason for purchasing was a simple five word statement i saw in relation to some tv adaptation of it; "Gillian Anderson as David Bowie". that, to me, sounded amazing, but i thought no, rather let me read the book it is based on that see the adaptation. 

can i do a plot summary for you? not easily/ basically some dude called Shadow gets released from prison, finds his world has gone, meets some dubious character, ends up working for him, has mysterious and mystical adventures. something like that. 

where to begin picking the bones out of this one? i find it astonishing that a writer could take the admittedly tired yet always scope for interest themes on the go here, blatantly borrow things from other works and writers, and yet somehow serve up utter boredom. this novel, i suspect, would seem amazing if you had never, ever read or experienced any of the things what "inspired" the writer. 

essentially what this novel does is take the line "and the people bowed and prayed to the neon gods they made" off of that song by Art Garfunkel and the short one whose name escapes me, liberally and extensively borrows from other works, those by Clive Barker in particular, to pad out a story, via being in some way "inspired" by the only cool scene out of the Jean Claude Van Damme film Cyborg and the last twenty minutes or so of the film of The Last Temptation Of Christ. for good measure he even manages to throw in a "midwest town" thing right from the world of Stephen King, and with doing so even pays homage to one of his usual plot devices. 

taking that what others have done, mixing it up and throwing out something "new" is not always a bad thing. in the words of Bono, it's not what you steal, it's what you do with it. and Neil Gaiman makes a very, very dull thing indeed. easily the biggest disappointment in relation to fuss and fanfare over a novel since Clockers by Richard Price. that too, was all "oh it's brilliant", until you read it and realised that it took that novel somewhere north of 500 pages to labour to a minor point Tom Wolfe covered in a couple of paragraphs in Bonfire of The Vanities. 

worst of all, it seems, is just how f*****g fragile and sensitive this Neil Gaiman apparently as. from that which i have seen (this and Trigger Effect or something), for some reason he feels the need to do an excessive, extensive intro to his works, and a whole chunk of sh!t about it at the end. i momentarily glanced at his concluding musings, and noted with interest how he appeared to be trying to generate some sort of controversy which simply was not there. he posed the question, for absolutely no one else would, "oh how dare i write of America when i am not American", or something. well, it's called fiction, d!ckhead, write what you like. he appears to sell enough to keep him in whatever life he has, and i doubt he shall lose any sleep over this, but no, i do not believe i will read any other works by Neil Gaiman. not directly, at least, as i would still hope to read Mr Barker and Mr King from time to time. 

my general avoidance of reading American Gods, the sense of well i have started it so i shall finish it, meant that reading got mercilessly dragged out over close to three months. not so with the next, The Demon Club, which i read easily within a week. it was entertaining and interesting, see, and something that one could actually enjoy reading, even if it is all a bit silly. 

notes on the provenance of my copy? well, sure. it came from Tesco. whereas once you could buy a copy of The Sun and get a book for £2.50 and then put The Sun in recycling immediately, now they do it where you can buy a selected book for £3 if you buy it with a copy of the Daily Mail, and put Daily Mail in the recycling bin just after doing so. so, done. oh, sh!t, no, that's the next one off of Scott Mariani what i picked up having not even read this one. actually, this one was a gift, either at Christmas or my birthday, from the boys and my former, as in no longer considerably better half, etc. hence the exile and what have you. but, i suppose having said that, as and when i do read the next one, should i make it that far, i do not need to spend needless time on provenance, i can just refer anyone all that interested in such things to what i have put here. should save some time, and who knows what i will achieve with those moments. 

i can have a go at the plot, i suppose. this is not the most ridiculous Ben Hope storyline, for it does not feature a massive laser being built to cut the world in half. but, you know, fairly close. some curious stranger manages to corner Ben Hope on a plane and instruct him to kill this one dude what cheeked him, or else all he knows will die. as it happens, the one dude is a former colleague of Ben's, and the reason for cheeking the bloke was that he saw (and filmed) a satanic ritual sacrifice and refused to work for them no more. off Ben goes to kill, hesitates, discovers and learns of this satanic cult gang thing, team up, off they go to rid the world of evil, etc, etc, etc. 

reading any fiction, in particular (though) these sort of adventure things, requires a suspension of either belief or disbelief, whichever is right. a writer needs to meet reader half way, though, and make said suspension something they can do. quite a lot of this is just too ridiculous, though. an all powerful satanic cult is at risk of being exposed, and instead of using that power to wipe out the threat they decide to risk letting someone else know? also, that it takes less than an hour in the novel for Hope to work out where the chap is says that maybe this shady secret cult has power but no intelligence. 

but still, ridiculously good, fun reading, really. preposterous, sure, but it doesn't pretend to be anything other than a thrilling tale to be read for fun. Scott Mariani, like many other writers, just has the book published for people to enjoy, without any need for essays before and after the actual novel. 

overall, i am indeed glad to have read both. as painful and torturous as the Neil Gaiman one was, at least i know what he is all about now, and know also to avoid all future things bearing his name. for the Scott Mariani one, well, it very much did what it said on the box, so no complaints. 

well, anyway. if i am lucky or fortunate, whatever i read next shall not get hidden away, meaning that it's actually enjoyable to read. going on the next one i have started, so far so good.

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

firefox f7

greetings

another accidental trip i made, look you see, down the streets of the sentimental hygiene of nostalgia. well, one has a hard (but not impossible) time reminiscing of the future. 

there was i (i was), wandering around for verk purposes when something rather shiny caught my eye. which is not a difficult thing to achieve, no. but in this instance, a bit different from usual, as i observed something that i had every confidence was a fond, familiar memory, momentarily forgotten due to life and all that sort of thing. 

yes, of course i was able to take a picture of it; i made the time. and here you go, indeed in the greater good and glory of Commodre 64 mode. 

so stunning is the quality of that picture, and the title of the post, that i need not tell you that this is the Firefox F7 "home video game" off of a company, or outfit, or firm, called Grandstand. 

my initial reaction was that inner leap of joy one does, for i was certain, steadfast and true, that this was the one what i had many a year ago, somewhere around 40 such years. not so, it seems. a bit of internet research says this device, or game, only came out in 1983. i was certainly given whatever one i had as a gift prior to that, for it was in Australia with me, before such a year. 

perhaps it is all one of them 'Mandela effect' things, as it is (i believe) called. whilst i certainly had an electronic game machine, evidence says not this one. but then, when i have a gander at video of it on the web and that, it does seem rather familiar. my suspicion is that there is no one i could ask to confirm which one i had. it was a smart one, anyhow. 

for all of you who for some reason do not like the purity or perfection of Commodore 64 mode, there you go, the device in a "normal" picture. undoubtedly there is something poignant, or metaphorical, or what have you, concerning it seeming to be behind bars. caged memories, etc. 

well, anyway, if i somehow remember which game i had, exactly, i might do a follow up. even better, i suppose, if i see it and go oh yes, that one. 

also. no, from what i can see, or recall, this game has nothing to do with the Clint Eastwood film Firefox, the novel on which that was based or the briefly popular web browser thing.

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

delayed double day after day of release discs

howdy pop pickers

it has, thus far, been a particularly quiet year for buying "new" vibes, look you see. perhaps i am mistaken, and i certainly am not going to do something so foolish or so strenuous as check, but these could, half the way in, be the first such ones i have purchased this year. quite a few compilations procured, for sure, and things off of Poundland to play as i go to verk, yet let us not forget the many Bowie released they actually let people buy. but, newly recorded and released music, i am not so sure. 

rather than faff on with "online" orders and rely on the vagaries of Royal Mail doing what they are (very well) paid to do, yes, i went back to my love, my passion for the acquisition of vibes. it was but a train ride away to get to HMV and buy these tunes. 

for clarity, then, and not that the greater good and glory of Commodore 64 mode isn't so, the two new albums, released on the first anointed Friday of this June (2021), were or are All The Colours Of You off of James, and Dreamers Are Waiting off of Crowded House, with the latter apparently now back together as a band, kind of. but, more of that later. 

my purpose, or intention was, in truth, just to secure a purchase of the James album. it was only the day before i set off for such that i became aware of the Crowded House one even existing, let alone being released on the same day. considering that one cannot really go too far wrong with Neil Finn, bar the odd mishap here and there (rare), i undertook to purchase it, too. which, as illustrated above, i did. 

quite unexpectedly it was so that i could have purchased double of the new music released what i did. others that i considered, as advertised in the window, were Hi off of Texas, and Something Something Something off of Olivia Something; her what does that Drivers Licence or whatever song. both sound really good and i have been enjoying them on Radio 2, which is why i did not purchase. alas, for some unusual reason Radio 2 tend to play songs to death, so i knew purchasing either of them would result in me getting a disc unlikely to be played too often, purely due to over familiarity. same with that Lady Gaga and Ariana Grande (sp) one, Rain. i really love the song, but due to Radio 2 i have heard it probably as many times as i would reasonably wish to in one lifetime, so purchasing the disc seemed to be just an act of bourgeois folly. 

how was it being back in HMV? not so bad, actually. yes, they remain fighting death, with music being continuously marginalised as they "diverse". no, i do not wish to purchase "blind merch" boxes, nor sweets, thanks. yes, i am, in a way that is as acute as it is obtuse, the last of a dying breed, one that prefers to actually buy music in a physical form. how long this lasts, i shall know not. 

but baffling, it was, that HMV was closed down under the most recent of "lockdown" thing, as we wage the invisible war against the new plague. who, exactly, decided or determined that music was not an essential thing? if this world is now so completely f****d up that music is not considered essential to life, then bring forth this plague, finish me off, wipe me out and let me be done, thanks. 

right, after all that i suppose now would be as appropriate a time as any to have a look (or listen, if you will) to these two (2) records. starting with the one that i was most keen on. 

an honest appraisal is that James are a band that i always liked, but not devoutly so. this was right up to, say, 5 or so years ago, when they released Girl At The End Of The World, an album i regularly play to this day and the more i hear it the more i am convinced it is one of the greatest records of all time. which sets one hell of a marker for whatever they did after that. fell short, mostly, with the one after that and before this, Living In Extraordinary Times, but go full tilt back on really good with this All The Colours Of You album. pretty much at all times. 

just how to describe this record. usually, or normally, i really don't like comparisons, but here it seems unavoidable. welcome to what is an informed, 21st century, Madchester sensibilities Automatic For The People. kind of. the REM magnum opus took a breathtaking, never likely to be equalled introspective look at the sense of loss, be it death, distance or fading memories. here, it's rather James tackles the fate of the world as we have it now from the opposite stream, with personal experiences of all that is going on exploding (with some very catchy music) into a more outward, universal sense. 

it would be wrong to say "oh, James has done a coronavirus album". other things in the world are certainly touched on, and yes, for it does appear to remain trendy and relevant, further comments on Donald Trump are made. he's gone now, forgotten as soon as everyone stops mentioning him you would think, but no not evidently just yet. rather, then, the sense i walked away from this album was of it in some way trying to cut through the distortion of modern life. let me leave it at that, actually, rather than try to embellish or elaborate. hear the album, maybe you hear it as i did, maybe not.

much like Girl At The End Of The World and any truly great album i am unable to select one or two tracks as highlights. this is so beautifully put together it flows just all as one record experience. how albums are really meant to be. i am not sure this record shall be played quite so often as Girl At The End Of The World, but it will get played a few times. 

so, on to Crowded House, then. expectations were high for listening to this one, based purely on the price. if it was £1 more than the James album, well then best it be at least £1 better. the answer to that is, of course, yes, no and maybe. 

overall, i think the tacit, as in unspoken, thing that everyone is thinking about a new Crowded House album is phew, praise be, Neil Finn got out alive. from where? let us not forget he was enlisted, or drafted, into Fleetwood Mac. which meant he would have had to endure trial by Stevie Nicks. and by that of course i mean [TEXT REMOVED ON LEGAL ADVICE]. tempting, yes, but also scary. just look at the pictures of post trial by Stevie Nicks people, such as Lindsey Buckingham, Mick Fleetwood and Tom Petty in particular. there is a scar there, of sorts. 

from what i can gather, the bulk (majority) of this Crowded House album was recorded post-trial by Stevie Nicks, pre-coronavirus stuff. a calm between storms, if you will. which is actually pretty much the perfect description of any good (and there hasn't really been many bad) Crowded House album. here we go with a dozen perfectly honed homages to the delights of breezy, whimsical and peaceful coming together moments of melody and harmony. it is the comfort zone of a Crowded House album, but that is no disparaging thing, for it sounds of itself. no, it does not stand out like i would argue the two masterpieces from the band do (Temple Of Low Men and Woodface), but stand on its own it does. 

does Dreamers Are Waiting come across as an album which HMV measured and found to be £1 better than the James one? this depends on how you would care to measure such. it has twelve tracks to the James rather round eleven, but the overall running length is shorter, say five minutes or so. let me tell you something, i would have paid more for a version of the Crowded House album which did not have the hideous, disturbing "artsy" portrait pics of each of the (current) band featured. i am not putting a pic of it here, and it makes a mockery of my claim that physical format music is always better, so it does. 

to make the predictable comment, yes, Neil Finn has been turning out tunes like this almost every year for north of forty years now. it is a quite remarkable gift that he has. sure, no massive "blockbuster" tunes here, but then the world no longer wishes for or wants such. perhaps Dreamers Are Waiting is the kind of record that you would reasonably expect to hear gently in the background of some posh wine bar or gentrified gin lounge (or whatever they are). assume that is bad at your own loss. 

i doubt anyone anywhere sees these two records as being in competition with each other. but, since we are here, of the two, it is the James one that is likely to get played more frequently, although not nearly as frequently as Girl At The End Of The World. indeed i will play the Crowded House one a few times, but not nearly as much as, say, Split Enz get on the stereo. two satisfactory releases, then. 

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

the sinner in me

hello

there is little sense, or point, in faffing on and not cutting to the chase, look you see. recently i purchased some new black jeans. also, i acquired a light brown ("tan" i think) belt. indeed, despite the laws, actually commandments, against such, yes they were combined by moi. and i might as well start referring to myself in a Frenchie way anyway, for surely i am going to hell for this. 

little do i know in this world, but even less of what i am aware of pertains to sartorial elegance, or fashion, or any such thing close to dress sense. but, then, yes, as all should be, i have knowledge of how, with regards to attire, one is not really supposed to blend the black and the brown. actually this might only be in association of brown shoes (or boots) with black trousers, but up to now to play it safe i have not ever mixed these shades, at least not knowingly. 

right, let us get this over and done with. here is a picture of the sinful blend, then, presented of course in the greater good and glory of Commodore 64 mode. 

why, or for what reason, did i sink to such sin? honestly it was all down to me putting the belt down on the jeans and thinking no, hang on, that actually looks really good. even if this is some sort of fashion faux pas, i remain standing by that view. i like how it looks. 

provenance of my new garments? i am (as ever) not sure why such would be of interest, but the jeans came from a market stall quite close to me. the traditional retailers appear to refuse to stock clothing for gents of my size, so f*** them if they don't want my coins. a most agreeable price was paid for them too, noticeably south of £20 but yet a bit north of £15. 

just what is the issue with mixing black and brown garments (or footwear)? i really don't know, now that i think. this was just something drilled in to me at some stage, i do not even recall when. 

from memory, the only significant public figure what i can think of (which is not many) to have worn a black and brown combination in the last forty (40) or so years is Dave Gahan out of Depeche Mode. he did so in the splendid, strangely homoerotic Just Can't Get Enough video. when you think about it, the only consequence for him of wearing brown boots with black leather trousers was worldwide fame as a pop star, and he got subjected for many years to sex, drugs and rock and roll in abundance. so much so that at one stage it thought that Bobby Gillespie out of Primal Scream might actually be a calming influence on him. yes, that much. 

now that i have spent a few moments considering the implications of wearing black trousers and brown shoes, i am off to go and see if i can do that too. believe you me, i am quite prepared to face the same consequences what Dave Gahan out of Depeche Mode did, as bravely as you like. 

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

quite busy, this

greetings

just an ad hoc and probably not too informative kind of film review, look you see. and an instance, i suppose, of me kind of watching something "again", only here is it a moment of me watching a very different version of a film that i can barely recall in the first instance. so, yes, then, it is the much vaunted or even celebrated "Zack Snyder" return to re-imagining the motion picture Justice League. making the movie as it was intended originally, but for a family tragedy, i believe, rather than a conventional or standard "director's" or "extended" cut, as marketing types favour. 

in truth, or if you will as confession, i really had little interest in watching this. what i recalled of the original incarnation was not much, except maybe it was. the thoughts were it proved (for me alone, i speak here) that all things Batman and Superman had been exhausted as fresh and new on screen, that the new variation of Wonder Woman was good but also not touching fond memories of the 70s series, and the extra characters were pretty much as "background" as the poster presented them. putting myself through somewhere around four hours of a new version of this to compound the confirmation of this was not an event i was screaming yes, let me do that at. but, i had bought the disc (or discs it turns out) for the boys anyway, and they were keen for me to have a gander, and so i did. 

rather pointlessly spoiler-free (is there ever really much a surprise to who might triumph in a super hero film, i wonder), a brief, overview look is that this is not bad at all, just rather long (obviously), drawn out and is frequently more soap opera in quality rather than super hero. also, despite my observation that it is drawn out, everything gets quite busy, frequently. 

plot? i am not so sure, or i am uncertain, such is even of relevance any more to these "event" movies, as i believe one calls them. quite formula friendly, they all are, be it these "DC" heroes, the Marvel ones and, most disappointingly, the recent Star Wars ones (at least the films, not the tele stuff). effectively they all take the Seven Samurai, or Magnificent Seven (or, even better Battle Beyond The Stars) plot of some threat or invasion being thwarted by by a band of heroes, one of them a reluctant troubled leader, one having no wish to be in it, one redeeming themselves, etc. yeah, that's on the go here. 

for four f*****g hours of it, mind. i understand we live in a time, or era, of people "binge watching" stuff, mostly series, where one sits and watches an entire tv series or sequence of films in one sitting, only presumably with comfort breaks. don't really get this myself, although i have done it once or twice. mostly that was at the behest of my (now formerly) (considerably) better half, and pertained to stuff such as Doctor Who and Dragon Games Throne or whatever. but i don't think that i would do so of my own choice, but one never knows what the future may bring. 

with mercy and delight it was that i discovered in this instance "binge" watching was not particularly necessary or required. as well as breaking it all up into "episodes" or "chapters", i forget which title they used, they have also gone done split the film across two (2) discs, providing a natural and convenient break between bits. this i took, and watched it over two nights. which brought back some fond memories of when they first screened Superman on the tele in Australia; as it was a ludicrously long version of the film they had put together they also broadcast that over two nights. yes, that one, the one with Christopher Reeve, Gene Hackman, Larry Hagman and him out of Deliverance, was a better film than this one is, but here we are. 

not sure, or unsure, if it was just my player, but it appears some shoddy work was done in producing or mastering (if that is the right term) these discs. disc two sort of splutters a bit when you put it in, so to speak, and just starts playing that bit of the film some 2 or 3 minutes in. just whacking the stop button and twatting the menu one lets it all start again, at least. 

earlier, rather than later on, i mentioned this was all a bit more soap opera than super hero. well, for a super hero film, there is surprisingly little in the way of actual super hero action. one very rarely sees Batman as Batman doing Batman stuff, and of course it is only after some 50% of the film that anyone thinks it is a good idea to resurrect Superman. 

as for the cast, her what does Wonder Woman is brilliant, him what does Batman / Bruce Wayne is excellent but you rarely see him, him what does Superman is fantastic but you rarely see him, Jeremy Irons is surprisingly sh!t as Alfred, him what does Aquaman is basically just his "Dave Grohl of acting", which is all muscles, tattoos, pouting, apparently a really nice guy and the ladies like him but ultimately dull, he cast as Cyborg does the best with a character no one writing appears to know what to do with or cares for in any discernible way, and him what does Flash does quite well in the "geeky, nerdy, awkward sort of poor, second rate sh!t version of Spiderman" role they have for some reason defined this character as. 

my understanding, going on what the boys told me, is that they are not going to do any (or no) more of these Justice League films, which makes the last 30 minutes, leaving the door open to Joker and Martian Man Hunter (or what he is called) to appear in future installments, quite strange. but oddly not disappointing, for i feel no wish to watch any more of the exploits of these characters as they have been presented here. leaving an audience not wanting more is an unusual approach, especially in this brave new world of trying to create everything as an "expanded universe". 

yes, no, maybe, perhaps i am not the target market, or demographic audience, for this film. but then i am one of them types they have identified as being of an age and having money at virtually anything which touches childhood memory in any ambivalent or vague way. as this film is not as shiny, vibrant or fun as the Marvel ones, or as serious and "realistic" as all of that Dark Knight stuff, actually it is a bit tricky to work out who, exactly, the hoped for market is for this one. well, anyone who has read what i have written here and is quite cross that i have not praised it is probably that unknown market. 

well, there you go. as i think i mentioned earlier, i really don't recall too much of the originally released version of Justice League, and i fully expect to have forgotten most of this version of it before long. no stand out, interesting or iconic moments from a film of this kind is a very sad state of affairs, but we all opted to stand around and watch as we made our world all so disposable. 

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

vaxecutions

hello there

on the off chance this, my blog thing, for some reason ever gets used for some sort of historical contextualisation in a peculiar unwritten future, just another update on the invisible war against the new plague. not my place to either condemn or condone this one, look you see, we, the people, are free to believe as we will. 

except to say no, not really, not really, no. on the basis of what i know, which maybe is not so much, and allowing for whatever a balance of probability is, i can't really agree with the sentiment what someone has got to some reasonable effort to express.

so, i was taking a stroll, as i am so prone to do, when i had need for a bin. this was so that i may extinguish a cigarette safely, and dispose of the remnants (the "butt" if you will) in as responsible was as circumstance allowed. on finding such, i found this placed on the bin. 

yes, as you can see with crystal clarity (whatever that means) in the greater glory of Commodore 64 mode, someone has gone to the trouble of handcrafting a protest sticker, stating on it "end the vaxecutions", and placed it on this bin. a not quite isolated, desolate or remote bin, so no metaphor for my life in this instance, but still one which is a little off of more beaten tracks and not so visible as it could be. 

i shall be honest here, as i usually (kind of) mostly endeavour to be. my first reaction was to be rather taken by the term "vaxecutions". this openly and unashamedly touched my inner passions, ideals and indeed ambitions for the linguistic. what a turn of phrase, i openly thought. that, in isolation and context free, is a great word to conjure and create. 

but then, maybe with some guilt and perhaps some shame, i pondered the matter further. this work would be all too easy to dismiss as just the action of one of them "conspiracy theory" types; all that 5G, and things which are real are not, etc. what if this were a single solitary statement by someone affected, that these are the words who had a familiar or loved one pass away after their vaccination? 

arguably, perhaps, possibly, yes, from time to time i do let myself get distracted by momentary things, giving consideration longer and further than i should. if not for me to think of such, though, then who. 

from what i can tell, which is not always a lot, these vaccinations appear to be our way out of this invisible war against the new plague; more so than they are a form of state sponsored assassination. but yet i will allow that i could, no matter how remote the prospect, be mistaken in such. 

right, well, let me go distract myself with thoughts of some other matter.

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

let me take you to the movies, can i take you to the show

hey, music (and movie) lover

more now, then, look you see. as in yet another purchase by me (moi) off of them lot what do the Now That's What I Call tapes and that. whereas i would not say i am an avid collector of them, a glance at the collection shows all of them original album reissues, that 12" one recently, and now (so to speak) another. but not a new(ish) release and not bought out of dedication to the Now brand. 

so, with the parting of the ways, the rubicon what was crossed a (little) while ago, inevitable gaps emerged in the "just mine" section of the music collection, which has been exiled with me. a particular all of a sudden omission what inexplicably irked me was that of the needlessly difficult to (usually) find Love Song For A Vampire by her out of Eurythmics off of that Dracula film. it's a lovely song, and i just wanted to have it my my solitude collection, for reasons. 

anyway, anyhow, some browsing found me finding it on one of them Now sets, called, with a poor grasp of a free flowing, coherent title, Now 100 Hits Movies or something. 

the quoted price on the great virtual car boot of the internet (ebay) was remarkably south of £5, so it probably should have been a no-brainer, auto-pilot type of purchase. and yet (although obviously since bought) it was not. i am prepared to admit my gathering of discs has now reached a truly out of hand level, or stance. for a change i gave the matter some consideration, rather than giving in to impulse.

briefly i skimmed over the track selection, and noted that many of the usual songs to feature on such sets were all accounted for. presumably it is so that some are really, really cheap to licence for sets and compilations like this. i believe, for instance, i have quite as many copies as i could ever need of Don't You Forget About Me off of Simple Minds and Addicted To Love off of Robert Palmer, as magnificent as they are. 

yet intriguing inclusions emerged on further inspection. for some reason i had never gotten around to getting the Taxi Driver soundtrack, and yet sat here was the business end of that recording. sure, the hideous Writing On The Wall by the not obviously talented Sam Smith was a put off, but there were some good, proper Bond themes too. which i shall get to, but if this comes out sort of kind of clear, here's the one hundred tracks included. 

i, to my surprise (i confess) found myself listening, one fine afternoon, to all 99 of the proper tracks included here, of course skipping Sam Smith. maybe the track was just included so that all could test that the skip button on their stereo still works. anyway, obviously not all on the set are there for the win, or whatever young people say now, but overall it was smart to have on. and it is likely to get played again, which is unusual for me and these compilations. 

for an effort to go non non-linear, massive surprise of joy when The Living Daylights by Aha out of Norway, or wherever, came on. it was, or is, a completely new to me and my ears mix of the song that i had of course not heard before (hence new), and i really like it. boss, bonus, totes plus. 

with regards to the initial or original motivator for purchase, yes, indeed it was fine to hear the sounds of Love Song For A Vampire again. of the many reasons, one is a dear friend, sadly fallen from my life, yet of course everyone goes away, back when the film was released, playing the CD exceptionally loud, assuring me that lines spoken by Gary "Gaz" Oldman are hidden (subliminally?) in the instrumental parts. not sure, but still, love the song. 

also, a timely reminder that Flashdance and I've Had The Time Of My Life are absolutely f*****g fantastic songs, which is also true of a few on this set but of course not one of them in particular. this is, with safe knowledge that my view on such things is not solicited, a set well worth having.

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

notes on a lonely, incidental accidentally endorsing meal at an isolated provincial train station

hi

well, pretty much just what the title of this says, look you see. i am not sure i have all that much to muse on the subject, so "notes" might be a trifle ambitious. but, stick with it. 

as per previous, rather than future, posts (which were probably dull to read but had some mildly interesting pictures and video), i have, of necessity, been taking some train rides of late. i have opted out of the option to document and record each one, for i feel all that can be said of them has been spoken, or rather written. 

having been to where i needed, wished and wanted to be on completion of one train journey, it is so that a second one must be taken, in reverse if you will, to get from where i came. as it happens, such journey takes place in, about or around that time of day which proper people call when dinner is due, but on the outside world this for some reason gets called "lunch". to play safe i went with the generic "meal" in the title, then, so as not to upset or confuse anyone. what one would eat around the middle of the day. 

it has now become a kind of custom for me, on the lengthy (about a mile or so) walk from where i visit to the train station to select and purchase a "meal deal" from the co-op. this consists of a sandwich, a snack and a drink. yes, most supermarkets (Tesco and Morrisons in particular) offer this for £3 a go, but they are not available to me. routinely i shall select a bag of crisps ("chips" in America and beyond) as a snack. for sandwich, i try to mix it up. 

by chance on this particular day i glanced and saw a "limited edition" one of cheese and pickle. considering that this is something of a widely available (and indeed popular) sandwich here i was momentarily baffled, but just grabbed it, as it sounded good. only on setting down, at the station, waiting for the train, and in preparing the sandwich to eat did i notice that the limited edition aspect of it came in to play with this being Glastonbury endorsed. yes, that Glastonbury. 

your guess is as good as mine (possibly better), for i know not what the packaging said beyond these pics, as i no longer have it to hand. but, it seems that the "reserve cheddar" (me neither" in the sandwich was off of Worthy Farm itself, where they do the concerts and that. 

to be perfectly honest, i kind of groaned and sighed at seeing that i had inadvertently supported one of the most lucrative commercial ventures on the face of the planet. not that there is anything wrong with making money; far from it. just the hypocrisy of Glastonbury, certainly post-2008, irks. they insist on promoting it as the magical, mystical thing it once was but no more, with acts - in particular the main bands or singers each night - selected purely on their willingness to do it cheap and sign away international broadcasting rights to the BBC. hence, a lot of Coldplay. 

of course, i ate it anyway. no, not really like the confession of Winston Smith and the chocolate, in any way, shape or form. i had paid for it and was hungry. yes, maybe i could say that i was hungry "like the wolf" for the value of reference, but unlike Simon (or Nick, who probably wrote it), i have no idea how exactly a hungry wolf would feel, other than wishing to eat. so, maybe that works. 

was this sandwich, aside from endorsement and affiliation, any good? not bad, actually. the reserve cheddar tasted quite a lot like normal, regular cheddar, but i guess the posh word in front means something to someone. as for the pickle, had worse had better, really. it did the job, for i was hungry no more, not like any wolf or such. 

for the drink selection that is what i always get from that particular proprietor, despite the fact that i do not particularly care for it. the name just amuses me. i am not sure if it is taken from the crossing expression, or the river itself. snack was probably crisps, maybe millionaire shortbread. 

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