four films

hello there

normally i try (unsuccessfully) to avoid doing too many posts on the same general subject all close to each other. at least date wise, look you see. but, here we are, a third post this month ostensibly related to things films. if you are all that interested, here and here you go, the other two (2) posts on cinema, the movies or what have you this month (july). 

every indication of this is right there in the title, but for the sake of clarity (or confirmation) indeed it is so that i've watched four (4) films of late. these have been on video, or if you like disc. both regular types of disc and then fancy ones. not, i hasten to add, them "ultra" fancy ones, for it turned out there was a limit to how far i was prepared to upgrade. 

as is (kind of) usual for when i have a number of films to write of, here are some comments on the ones pictured above. that being because these are the ones that i watched recently. strangely, or oddly, in most cases this was the first time i had watched the films. i imagine some of you, reading this as you know me, can tell which of the above four (presented in the greater good and glory of Commodore 64 mode) i have seen many, many times before. 

perhaps rather (or somewhat) surprisingly i had managed to make it all this way into my life without seeing 48hrs. well, not properly, at the least. somewhere in the echoes of my mind i can vaguely recall trying to watch it on itv late one night, but as was standard then (the 80s) it was very clearly cut to ribbons by the censors. other than that, on watching it felt like i had seen most of the key scenes in documentaries and that, likely ones on Eddie Murphy. 

for those that don't know the plot, a hardened rough copper, played by Nick Nolte, feels compelled to release a prisoner into his custody (Eddie) for, yes, 48 hours, so as to catch some right nasty people. a reasonable amount of violence, bad language, comedy and not as much nudity as you might expect, or i may have hoped for, follow over 90 minutes or so. rather like every single film, and there have been many, of a similar "cop mismatch" premise. except usually this is regarded as the iconoclastic one, the first of its kind of the genre. 

overall, this wasn't too bad. this being an early 80s film there is kind of that issue with some one the language which may be problematic these days, a la, say, Blazing Saddles. my basic understanding is that this film was one intended to primarily showcase Eddie Murphy's (vast) talents. clearly that worked out well. whereas this one doesn't disrupt the holy trinity of the (obviously) three greatest Eddie films, being (for clarification) Trading Places, Beverly Hills Cop and Coming To America, it probably sits as 4th best on his list. now i suppose i need to track down a copy of Another 48hrs. 

there was absolutely no way i was every going to watch the film Stardust. it got announced, and came out, at a time i (and many others) felt was "too soon" after the death of David Bowie, so it felt a touch 'cashing in'. also the Bowie Estate took the time to speak up (or out) against it, refusing to let any use of music, etc. nothing said watch this. 

and then i found myself in a chapter (or branch) of fopp, the one down in that there London (innit). it was sat on the shelf for all of £3, and for some reason i felt obliged, or compelled, to give it a go. unexpectedly it turns out i was most glad that i did indeed do so. 

it didn't necessarily start off promising, mind. after a declaration that the film was 'mostly' fiction, it launched into a bit of a if not homage then remake of 2001 A Space Odyssey. the latter part, however, made sense soon after, as this film all takes place in the (it says here fictional) life of Bowie after the hit Space Oddity and before that one called Ziggy Stardust. some rather lean years for him, in truth, if also years of producing excellent but not wildly successful music. for the most part, or mostly, it follows him on the road around America with a possibly not as enthusiastic as possible record label PR man, trying to make him famous. 

most, if not all, of this is based on accounts of Bowie at this time. well known and documented events and conversations and, of course, family life. ultimately my review is that this would have been one hell of a stage play. in the absence of hiding behind Bowie's music, what this film is at heart is a really brilliant drama about facing fears and formulating some identity in this world. once again i fell compelled to recall a quote from Bowie. when asked if he would do an autobiography he suggested people simply "go and look at all the unofficial biographies, pick one they like, assume it to be the truth and move on". undoubtedly he would have referred to this just as so. all the same, recommended. 

sadly, and for provenance in the same shop as what i saw Stardust on sale, i noted Showgirls sat there on fancy disc for a reasonably attractive price. my memories (or recollections) were of it being truly terrible. with a vague notion of it maybe being one of them "so bad it's good" type of films i elected to pick it up and try it again. no, in short, it's one of those ones which are really, really bad and not worth it. 

exactly how this managed to be as bad as it is becomes quite a headache inducing question. you have absolute stacks of nudity, the likes of David Bowie and Siouxsie And The Banshees on the soundtrack, Paul Verhoeven of (proper) RoboCop directing and Agent Cooper out of Twin Peaks. maybe not so much of a headache. it's the terrible script, horrible story and awful acting that's at fault. had they taken just the positive ingredients i mentioned and simply sellotaped that together for two hours, like people just wandering around naked with smart music on the go, that would have been a much, much better film. 

any redeeming features to Showgirls? i have no idea to the veracity (accuracy) of the behind the scenes of dancing (and what have you) in Vegas, but to be fair Robert Davi is outstanding as the owner of the sleazy strip club where the ostensible protagonist started out. for a bit of ying and yang (or whatever, think it might be yin and yang), Agent Cooper out of Twin Peaks has a truly awful hairstyle, but in a couple of scenes he gets his bum out and it oddly, weirdly, looks really smart. but for that, this is truly a film to be forgotten about. not sure why them who made the tape (disc) of this went to so much effort to go and "restore it", but what you end up with is a clear print of a horrible, nasty film. 

for a last one, for now, or finally, Quadrophenia. which would be the film of these four (4) what i have seen a whole load of times. as should you. well, maybe. it's not family viewing. 

do i need to do the plot? based on The Who's outstanding masterpiece of an album, it tells the story of Jimmy, a mod in the 60s. further, it's set, or has as a background, the legendary rivalry between "mods" and "rockers", which culminated or led to some brutal fights down at Brighton, innit. 

hard to categorise, really. in places and at times it's heartbreaking, hilarious, involving, dramatic and edge of your seat stuff. the entire cast is nothing short of exceptional, with many of them - Phil Daniels in particular, of course - finding themselves becoming iconic purely due to the role they had here. even Sting is amazing. actually, he's brilliant. 

ultimately, if one had to categorise it, this is a "coming of age" film bar none. not the soppy version what Americans like to portray in their films, but a brutally honest, reality based one. at least, i suppose, so far as reality exists for us English. how expertly made that this is clearly set of a particular time, yet speaks of something timeless, with the sentiment and all within being something that shall resonate for years and years. except if someone bans it. 

right, well, time to go get some other things of stuff done, i suppose. 

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

cricket on the tele and that

g'day

my most recent of travel adventures took me north. this is indeed a verk compelled travel, look you see, and indeed usually i would be sent on a southern direction. in this instance, all the way up to Scotland, no less, which was an unexpected change. 

should you have been expecting (reasonably) or hoping (blindly) that i took several images of the beautiful, quite breathtaking landscape up there, well, no. fear not, though, for as them nice people what put me up in a hotel made it available on the tele, i have some images off of the cricket. 

yes, all of this is presented in the greater good and glory of Commodore 64 mode. well, the picture bits are. sadly i have no idea how to change the font to that quite class (and large) Commodore 64 one, which of course i would use all the time. also, indeed Scotland isn't what one would consider a natural locale to watch cricket, but here we are. 

there was a really, really smart cricket game on the Commodore 64. here for us in England it was branded as Graham Gooch Cricket. not 100% certain (or sure), but i suspect (think) the release of the game in Australia was branded as Alan Border Cricket. rather a good idea, that change, for it would be likely to sell far more copies with such a name change. as smart as that game was, i believe the best ever cricket game on a computer or what have you was Brian Lara Cricket on the Sega Megadrive. loads of fun that was, but moving on. 

images and animated things here are all off of the afternoon session of the 1st day of the 4th Test of the 2023 Ashes series, which of course is (as always) England vs Australia. ever since they moved it on to a pay channel i haven't really seen much of it. there's no way i am forking out the fortune they want, and simply cannot be bothered to "pirate" it, no matter how many friends and colleagues offer to set me up with such. a few things seem to have changed since i last saw it (cricket) on the tele. like, for instance or example, why (exactly) do players in a Test match - especially as one as important as the Ashes - now have squad (or shirt) numbers? it's ridiculous, they should be in traditional whites. 

one oddity of sorts of me writing this now is that the Test is still in play, yet will be published at a time when the result is consigned to history. perhaps i shall update or edit it with the eventual result, but this is unlikely. at time of writing England looked on course for a convincing win, which would level the series ahead of the 5th Test, which would become a "decider". unless the rain persists and there's not enough time available to play to a result. 

what's my feelings on the current Ashes series? a good deal more better than the previous, during which i could not understand why there was a lack of arrests on the grounds of treason. things have changed, and those selected to play for England are actually putting some effort in. but, let's not get carried away. should England manage to turn being 2-0 down into a 3-2 win, then they shall deserve some applause and a few calls of bravo. if they fail, perhaps one or two (key) arrests would stress the importance of winning to all future players. 

now that i mention the importance of winning, that incident, which i believe was in the 2nd Test. you know, the one where the Australian wicket keeper elected to do the cricketing equivalent of shooting someone in the back with that stumping. indeed, yes, it was "legal" and silly billy English cricketer, but still. the batsman had faced the delivery, survived, and was not seeking to take a run or gain any advantage at all. if win at all costs, rather than being the superior team, is what modern day Australian cricket is about, what a shame. then again, sandpaper. from what i remember, a not too different thing happened with South Africa, when they dismissed the great Brian Lara in a similar "rules of the game" thing. i seem to recall the umpire asking if they were absolutely sure they, the South Africans, really wished to have their name and reputation tarnished with such an unsporting (yet legit) dismissal, and of course they said yes. 

up until this brief chance to watch some on the tele, it has been so that for about ten (10) or so years i have relied on the radio to bring me cricket coverage. the BBC, no less. previously this was of course the bastion, the highest standards possible. no more. one has to deal with, or listen to, the terrible, awful, appears not to understand the game based on his "commentary" Jonathan Agnew. i and many others appreciate that the BBC now have to do things "on the cheap" but surely it doesn't have to be this cheap. some of the comments he makes to female commentators are borderline sexist, especially his expectation that they will "cook him a meal", which makes it baffling as to understand why he is still on the air. credit very much due where it is due; who(m)ever is doing the cricket coverage on a paid for basis is doing a most excellent, notably Agnew free, job. 

did i have many conversations with people in Scotland about the cricket? no. it's not really what i was sent up there to do. to the best of my knowledge, or as far as i am aware, there's a pretty healthy interest in the great sport in the country, but it would be far from the most popular sporting activity. other than the general, worldwide interest in the Ashes, i am not sure many cricket loving Scottish people would be all that bothered about what's essentially a game between England and Australia. 

this is not likely to be of all that much interest to many, but no, this brief exposure to the wonders of cricket coverage on a paid for service has not inspired me to pay for it. it's simply too much cash they want, and i wouldn't be around to get the benefit of it. from what i recall the ECB deeply regret taking money from pay channels, as the game being off free tele has seen considerably less exposure, and so there's less ("fewer") children being inspired to take up cricket. the depth of regret would appear to stop somewhere short of renewing said broadcast contracts, mind. 

anyway, time for me to get on with things of stuff. perhaps i shall get the chance, in another hotel somewhere, to see more. maybe (probably) not. but, let's hope for a splendid English win. 

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

once again then

howdy pop pickers

remarkably, if not preposterously, it is now exactly (well, more or less, look you see) one half of my entire life to day that i have been fighting a rather unpleasant, somewhat sinister allegation. this is, of course, and yes once more, the allegation that i am not a 'proper' fan of Intergalactic off of Beastie Boys. yes, the stress induced or caused by this claim, which i believe to be baseless, haunts me a great deal. no, i have not considered to check myself into a hospital as a consequence, but still. 

exactly what is it that i have to do, in this brave era of social media and connectivity, to prove my loyalty to the wonders of this song? for north of two decades i have stopped various dinner parties and key business meetings (of an intermediate and executive level) to hold screenings of the video. a video which, of course, only has Sabotage off of Beastie Boys to claim as a rival to being the greatest ever. well, that and Panama and Hot For Teacher off of (proper) Van Halen. on instances where it is appropriate, or i have managed a scenario in which it is appropriate, i have played Intergalactic at the correct volume and encouraged, if not overtly forced, people to show the appropriate level of respect. my stance is that, like any normal person, i am become acolyte and ambassador for the song. 

perhaps this most recent act of faith, devotion, loyalty and dedication to the song shall help in silencing those who slander me so. above, in the greater good and glory of Commodore 64 mode, is the elusive four (4) track CD single of Intergalactic. and this is my copy of it. yes, i finally committed to purchasing it. for several years i was perfectly content with the tape version of this (see here, and also see that link for other incidents) variation. now that i have it on disc too, well, maybe the calls for me to be arrested on grounds of not being a proper fan shall cease. 

much of this year has of course seen people a trifle more famous (if not more talented, and if i may say so certainly not more sexy) than moi be hounded. i speak, of course, of a failed children's tv presenter who went on to be a mediocre daytime tv show host, and that bloke off of Wales, look you see, who thought he was all posh and better than all else. sure, whatever trivialities them did (or did not do) really don't compare to the suggestion of false worship of Intergalactic, but still. 

have i ever used, co-incidentally, the song Intergalactic as part of some lavish seduction routine, or other such action designed to impress someone? potentially, possibly, yes. but it's more a case of it being brilliant and wishing to spend as much of my life as possible expressing that it's amazing. should people find it interesting that i take this approach and then spend time with me, so be it. if they elect (or opt) to indulge in certain physical acts too, well, that's private. 

since obtaining this four (4) track CD single variation yes, it is so that it has rarely been off the stereo. as point of fact, in instances when i (accidentally) put on a different tape (disc), it was within moments that i said "no hang on what am i doing" and put Intergalactic back on. which is happening again, right now, as i right this.

all of the tape (disc) is of course excellent. but if i were to choose a highlight, then it's track three, which is the prisoners of technology/tms 1 re-mix. most excellent sorted bangin', that is. so far as i am aware the single greatest ever presentation of Intergalactic, which is (of course) to say that one some genius did what mixes it with the theme off of (proper 70s) Battlestar Galactica, is not officially available on tape, disc or similar. a great shame. 

well, time spent writing this is time being distracted from listening to Intergalactic, so let me get off. that's 25 years so far of me defending the love of the song. i am not entirely sure i have another 25 years left in me, but what time i have shall be used as an advocate of Intergalactic. 

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

indications of bias

привет товарищи

indeed i am aware that, in the present day, using russian isn't terribly popular, hip or generally wise. fear not, as i use it not in the present sense look you see, but rather as a throwback to when it was the language of the lost, beloved soviet union. 

on a relatively recent trip to that there London (innit) i saw something peculiar. well, indeed yes, i saw a great many things which someone off of a normal, other part of the country would think as such, but just the one in particular. this was the sight of someone selling newspapers at tube station. for those of you not, so to speak, "in the know" about this, well, it's peculiar as most (if not all) of them tube stations are overloaded with free (gratis) newspapers. so, someone selling one is rather strange. 

not just any old newspaper, of course, but one entitled the socialist, which also (apparently) incorporates news from a similar periodical called the militant. or they are trusted to spread, or otherwise carry, the news off of them. i wonder if it is some derivative, or successor, to a similar named newspaper called socialist worker. that one brings back perhaps fond memories, for a trip to town on a saturday morning, be it to visit our price or hmv, led to one being confronted by a gent shouting the name of that newspaper, offering to sell it. yes, the chap who was selling this was shouting a bit, but not with the conviction i can recall. 

this, in the present, was all in an affluent, well to do yet prides itself on being a bit bohemian area of London (innit). from what i could tell the chap was having not as much luck, or good fortune, in selling editions to the passing members of the public. on a whim i purchased an edition. i was told that the price was either £1 or, if i wished to show solidarity, £2. so i paid £1.

much of the coverage of news within this newspaper seemed to be quite specifically centred on expressions of displeasure with the incumbent (or if you will present) government. as i am sure you have been able to ascertain, via the greater good and glory of Commodore 64 mode, the very cover of this edition was dedicated to a demand to "boot out" all members of the government, as well as anyone associated with them, or happened to say anything not overtly negative about them. a centre of newspaper editorial, pictured directly above this paragraph, celebrates some achievement they made north of fifty (50) years ago against a government they, presumably, also disliked. 

certainly it is (very much) down to the owners, or editorial staff, of a newspaper to present whichever or whatever political inclination they wish. it was just surprising to see that they appeared not to appreciate or approve of a single thing what the current party in power had done. that strikes me as, like, getting hung up on negative waves, man. surely, methinks, they can't be all bad, and must have done some good somewhere, even if by accident. not so, at least not in the period covered by this edition. 

back pages of most newspapers tend to be dedicated to sport. not so with (or for) the socialist, then, with them instead encouraging people what are not at all happy with their employment to fight back. that said, and now that i think, there was a kind of sports article towards the back, with an editorial on how private ownership had caused the demise of some rugby union club. perhaps if all sporting ventures were owned by the state, with the politburo determining playing squads, results and so forth, the world would be a better place. i really don't know. 

sorry, or apologies, to the regular readers of my little space on the internet for the avalanche of bits related to that there London (innit) of late. unfortunately i haven't really been to any other places of late, but that may well change. 

будьте добры друг к другу!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ziggy played guitar, as did ronno and beck....

howdy pop pickers

well, no. as it happens i didn't think going to see David Bowie at the cinema was going to turn into an annual event, look you see. but then here we are. last year it was, of course, Moonage Daydream, and this year it is the turn of Ziggy Stardust The Motion Picture. for those of you unaware, it had a recent and supposed one off (they did further screenings) cinema presentation on 3rd July 2023. this date was the 50th anniversary of the gig (famously the last of the tour) itself, if not the film. so far as i am aware, and for whatever reason, the film was only released in 1983. perhaps more on that later. 

to go and bear witness to the screening i had two (2) options. one was to pay around, or north of, £75 to see it at the actual venue (since radically changed) where the gig was in Hammersmith, or to pay a regular cinema ticket price to see it. indeed the latter very much won, since i didn't really see the point of paying all that extra to listen to Richard E Grant speak before it. sadly, no escape, as they did a "live feed" thing, meaning i had to witness the train wreck that was the 'panel discussion'. oh. 

i really, really cannot stress just how much of a train wreck the bit before the film we had to endure was. truly, it was f*****g awful, and i still have severe abdominal pains from creasing on the inside for the humiliation of it all for those involved. it started badly, with 'Woody' the drummer and only surviving member of the quintet (refer here the theory that The Beatles are dying in the wrong order, if you will) going severely off track and hustled off stage as soon as they could. a reasonable piano bit off Mike Garson followed, and then the true disaster. 

perhaps the great tragedy was that an entirely useful, interesting conversation was possible. sat right there was Mike Garson, along with Ken Scott (who produced a few Bowie albums, notably Ziggy). alas it was decided to mostly ignore them and have us listen to Suggs, who for some reason (ahem) kept fiddling with his nose and seemed generally bewildered to be there. further there was Don Letts, who appeared to be under the impression that the audience - gathered, may i remind you, to watch the David Bowie concert film Ziggy Stardust - were there to hear him speak of how much he likes sex, how often he gets it, and how he believes he is rather good at it. 

make no mistake, the worst was Richard E Grant. from what i can remember of his films i quite like him, but a friend did warn me that he is the person "most right far up their own @r$e" in human history. and so this was when he spoke. through nervous giggles he seemed to have concocted a tale of how he decided he was "bi" when in Swaziland due to seeing Ziggy, which doesn't tie in with the release date of the film or the time he was in that country. nearly all else he said was basically "sex ha ha ha". should it be so that they do Carry On films again, there's the man to cast. 

once they had (finally) shut (the f***) up, at last the film itself was screened. now this is a movie i am reasonably familiar with, with me (moi) watching it several times on video and disc over the last 30 or so years. but, then, this was a "newly restored" print, adding some scenes of interest. 

the key restoration was that of some songs what Jeff Beck guested on, notably a medley of The Jean Genie and Love Me Do. why this was cut from the original release is not known, but at a guess it all comes down to money. also, stories of Jeff Beck not being happy with his performance. that you can see in it, as he is very uncomfortable with all the theatrics. at one point he clearly brushes of Ronno, or if you will Mick Ronson, who tries to get him (Beck) to do some fancy step moves like him. nice to see, but the business end of it was already shown in Moonage Daydream. 

for some reason the other "extra" scene added in (not back in) was that of Ringo Starr, backstage. this is just weird. Ringo is sat there as Bowie is doing a costume change, and Ringo does seem particularly keen to have a bit of a gander at David's legendary undercarriage. one cannot blame him for such, i suppose, but is it something that enhances the film? not really, not really, no. 

go on, then, a selfie of moi before the screening started. you have been warned. 

large chunks of the remainder of the film were almost exactly as remembered, except different. certainly a lot of extra crowd scenes feature, which isn't bad - nice one if anyone spots themselves, or friends or relatives in it. also, there appeared to be quite a few "different angle" scenes from what i recall off of the tape or disc. been a while since i last watched, mind. 

highlights remain exactly as they have, for me. a truly devastating, hammerblow performance of the epic and sadly overlooked Width Of A Circle, and perhaps the best ever performance of Time captured that we are aware of. and, well, just about every song featured, with even the misguided Let's Spend The Night Together cover sounding pretty good at the (very) correct volume. 

an open secret, for it is known, amongst Bowie fans is that this most certainly is not the definitive performance of Ziggy Stardust. will do business on this being the "iconic" one, but the greatest recording absolutely has to be Santa Monica 72. still, this is what we have, and that shall do nicely indeed, thank you. 

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

what reasons do you need

hello there

well, yes, there's a school of thought that says i should have commenced this post with howdy pop pickers, look you see. but, i have not. mostly this is all me buying yet further tin (or other such metal) things what are actually posters. this follows on from last month, for those with an interest. 

no, up to now i haven't put any of them up. this is a task i shall get to. eventually, if you are asking when. but, for now, one (1) of the ones i picked up has immense relevance to the day today, being the day what this was set out on the internet. and that may not be the day you read it. 

on this day (13 July) in 1985 it was, of course, Live Aid. quite the event. and the poster on metal you can see above, presented in the greater good and glory of Commodore 64 mode, is a reasonably famous picture taken from the grand finale of the London (innit) gig, held at Wembley. well, the old version of that stadium, before the knocked it down and built a new one. 

lots and lots of reasons present themselves to be retrospectively critical of Live Aid, be it the London gig or the one over in America (Philadelphia, i think). dubious concerns about where the money went, poor Adam Ant getting f***ed over in a near career ending way by Geldof, generally average to poor sets from artists (except Queen, who gave what may consider to be the finest performance by anyone, ever, and i would not disagree), Phil Collins showing off the excess of 80s by taking concorde so as to play both gigs (and not being very good for Led Zeppelin) and, according to some, more or less the same amount of value money raised being matched by the amount of coke used backstage. 

yet, for me, the good shall always be at the forefront of my memories. and not just the devastating, brilliant performance by Queen. that set is one i remember fondly, with moi and my family all sat in the front room (or lounge) watching, mesmerised. it was a day when music was the single most important thing in the world, music could serve to change the world. as in, and you have to remember this was at a time when the cold war could have gotten quite hot, even the USSR contributed to the day. wow. 

for whatever reason we don't get big event concerts like that no more. the last one i can recall is Live 8. no, not sure why not. when Bowie left us there was a tribute gig, but no tv and held in a small venue in Brixton. rather different from the Freddie show. maybe we don't have them because of the fuss various environmentalists would make, or just that we are truly bereft of the wealth of interesting musical talent which could be called upon for Live Aid. 

above, for the sake of completeness, are the other other poster tin things what i have picked up. the Jimi Hendrix one is because why would't you have a Hendrix one. as for the James Bond, well, it features all of the proper films featuring the character, as well as the 3 (three) sh!t ones Pierce Brosnan did. even i have to concede that his first was actually pretty good, despite him. 

let me go and give some consideration to putting these all up. i have quite a few now, yes, they are quite nice to just sit and look at, but it would be all the more better to have them on a wall, or across a couple of walls, to admire with ease.

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

using a london car wash

ow do

indeed it is less (or "fewer") than a month since i did a post on the subject of a car wash. well, i don't have that much else to write of momentarily, look you see. besides, it could be argued that this one adds something different to the usual. which, in fairness, pretty much is in the title. 

yes, then, i was in that there London (innit) with one particularly unclean vehicle. also a vehicle running somewhat low on fuel. so, i went into a petrol station, one that my verk pays for the use of, and observed, or otherwise noted, a car wash facility there. 

predictably enough, then, was me making use of this facility. and of course this cost a good deal more than the same service in any other part of the nation. whereas yes, it is verk what pays, i do not go looking to waste their coins. but, well, my vehicle was truly filthy and needed it. so, £5 was agreed on as the most modest price for the most basic of services. 

there is no way that i have enough of interest to write around all these images and animated things, but i shall (as usual) give it a go. my understanding is that anyone who(m) is for some reason interested in this kind of thing will probably like to see a different sort of car wash in a different place. 

first animated sort of thing (gif, i believe) above, then. yeah, that is indeed the big floppy soft wet, or if you like moist, brush(es) going over the windscreen. indeed they did seem somewhat bespoke, or of a higher quality than the ones you would find across the rest of the country. that's the London lifestyle for you. which i appear to have taken on, despite living well away. 

how much fun is it driving around that there London (innit)? as much as you would think. mostly it's a lot of standstill traffic. recently, for instance, i was able to listen to the entirely of the (superb) album Blast off of Holly Johnson whilst moving only a little north of a mile on my journey. as and when one does get on an open, clear(ish) road, you get a sense of fear that you have turned on to one of them many roads in the place that you are not actually allowed to drive on, and sense a fine in your very near future. it is little wonder the people down there get so quite cross all the time. 

above is the soapy water all over the windscreen. i quite like that picture. it's somewhat abstract, and could well be made use of as a smart, intriguing album cover. except we don't really get boss album or record cover artwork no more, for what is the point if the majority "stream". now that i look, the off centre white bits look a bit like a lady in a bikini heading towards me. unfortunately no, no such incident of that nature occurred, but what a lovely thought for the future. 

so, how do i cope with the traffic? well, there's always something interesting to observe, watch or look at. also, i remembered how my mate (or if you will bum chum Spiros) used to quite enjoy tangling with the taxi drivers down there. if you straddle lanes in front of them, in particular around big, busy tourist areas, they tend to give you a little hoot and use some language which they should be ashamed of. such things do indeed help pass the time a bit. mostly, though, vibes on the stereo. 

one of them scenes of the brush going past the passenger side, then, on a vehicle designed to drive on the correct and proper side of the road, of course. this shall confuse them what are in America as their cars are made backwards. indeed so are French ones, but that's predictable. 

my understanding is that the water is "different" in London (innit). they suggest that it is "hard", which is an interesting thing for a place filled predominantly by shandy drinking southern softies. of course this means "special" requirements are needed, like different sorts of tea bags which cope with their water. i suspect the more posher residents use fancy bottled water for tea, mind. and probably coffee too, or whatever avant garde fancy things they drink now. 

now that i think, then, this shall be the first time my vehicle has been washed with "hard" water. at least so far as i am aware. has it made it all cleaner or particularly shiny? not that i have noticed. 

those of you with an interest in provenance have probably worked this out, but yes, i did indeed use a car wash quite close to that Hammersmith place, if not right in it. and that's just about all i can write of on this subject. 

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

quite a very poor film

greetings

pretty much what it says if not on the box as such, then what it says in the title. which i suppose is a rather metaphorical way of saying that, look you see. it was so that, fairly recently, i had the chance to watch a film that i was mildly curious about, but suspected might be a bit rubbish. and it turned out to be a whole load of rubbish. 

the film in question, and goodness knows who would pose such a question, is Keeping It Up Downstairs. according to the blurb (or puff piece) on the tape box, and indeed on the internet, it's supposed to be an 'Edwardian era sex comedy romp'. by mangled, wrangled, suppressed repressed British standards, i suppose it might be. except it isn't. 

what's the plot? a bunch of posh people and their servants appear to spend their day getting up to all kinds of that sort of thing (intimate relations) with each other. however, these fun days are coming to an end, as the money has run out. a rather wealthy posh bloke what no one likes has designs to buy up the stately home in which they live, a move which would appear to give him the right to do that sort of thing with all of them himself. so, an effort of sorts is made to raise the money needed. 

apparently it's intended as a 'parody' of a well known (in the 70s) television series called Upstairs Downstairs, hence the title i suppose. exactly how much of the "plot" echoes the premise of that series is unknown to me, and probably not a lot. so, not a parody, then. also, or further, it simply isn't funny. not one scene prompted a laugh, not even by accident. i shall take it on trust that it is indeed of an Edwardian period setting, but that would seem the only accurate aspect of the description. 

but what of the 'sex comedy' aspect? you know, that sort of thing? if we are honest, or at the very least if i am honest, there's no way on earth i would have touched this film had there not been the open promise of some nudies. well, there is, kind of. one gets, i suppose, a fair chunk of female and (sadly) male upper nudity, a reasonable amount of female and (regrettably) male rear nudes and just the one (1) scene of full tilt female nudies (thankfully no male). yes, (most of) them bits (so to speak) were ok. 

one starkly baffling aspect of life in Britain is the persistent censorship of all things nudies. we live in a country what has celebrated statues and paintings of people au naturale absolutely everywhere, yet dare to show off such in a film and the censors go after you. ridiculous in this internet era, yet such a mentality still prevails. in all likelihood this film exists solely to get some nudes on a cinema screen, pushing that boundary as far as was possible. 

easily the single most disturbing aspect of this film (for audiences on or around my age) is the presence of no less than Willie (billed as William) Rushton as the rich bloke trying to take the house and all what comes with it. those of us who grew up in the 80s had him, along with the likes of Richard Stilgoe and Gyles Brandreth (that one) thrust on us as "guests" in children's tv shows. they were remarkably dull, stiff (not in that way) and a pain to sit through. not really the sort of person you expect to see turn up in a supposed 'sex comedy', then. for what it's worth, and yeah, spoiler, the main "humour" what this film has in store for audiences is Willie Rushton repeatedly falling into puddles or similar bodies of water. 

provenance of my copy? i was rather surprised to see it sat in a charity shop. one would assume they get a fair few of these things donated, but usually anything featuring that sort of thing doesn't end up on the shelf, with it disposed of via other means. the cost was £1, but that was for three (3) tapes (discs). i picked up 48Hrs and The Outlaw Josey Wales at the same time, so it wasn't a total loss. 

so, what shall i do with this tape (disc) now? actually i have no idea. probably just leave it in the pile that is my collection. or, maybe, i will give it to someone or other, so that they may endure it. every chance exists, of course, that there's someone in the world who might like it, but that's not me. 

considering how little time i get to actually watch tapes (discs), one can only hope i choose somewhat more wisely when i next get chance. but, still, there was some nudies, so it wasn't a totes waste. 

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

lady of bird or bug

hello there

following on from my wildly successful post about a spider (fourteen people have had a look at it, look you see), yes, another one. well. no, not a spider. but yes, another insect one. and one that there might be some sort of contested conversation concerning the name. probably not, but still. 

as far as i am concerned, the insect i saw most recently and took images of is called a ladybird. however, it is so that some in other parts of the world (and this probably means America) refer to this magnificent creature as a "ladybug". whereas this isn't necessarily (or particularly) a bad name as such, it's just not as lovely as ladybird. 

yes, no, i am aware that presenting an image of a ladybird in the greater good and glory of Commodore 64 mode from a distance wasn't the best choice. but i am reasonably, or fairly, confident that you can make it out all the same, just off to the right. assuming (or presuming) you are not looking at the image in an upside down way. 

where did i see this magnificent creature? on a wall. specifically, a wall indelibly linked to my lodgings in my place of exile. it was, i can tell you (which i am doing) a mood lifting sight to see on returning from travels; all the more so since in this instance i was obliged to use the dreaded A1. the only reason that road would be graded as "A1" is on a chart of the single most stupid and sh!tt!est roads to ever exist. but maybe that is a tale for another time. 

my understanding is that the simple beauty of a ladybird is that it is an insect. one of them internet search things (undertaken to clarify name), however, suggests that one must go further in definition and call it a beetle. not a beatle, as such, but regular beetle. 

shall i be doing any further posts on insects (or divisions thereof) what i see? would be nice. however, the prophecy seems true, the insects are all dying, this world is coming to an end. yet if it doesn't and i see more, sure, why not. 

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

one generation under the same groove

who is and who isn't

i can vaguely recall deciding, or stating that i was determined, no further "anniversary" posts of landmark gigs what i was fortunate enough to be at would done. yet here we are, look you see. well, i have nothing much else of anything to write of. and it is The Stone Roses. 

so, yes, eleven (11) years ago on the day today (or the date this was published) i was one of the fortunate to be at Heaton Park to see the impossible made real, The Stone Roses together and performing. considering this blog is littered with posts about that day and night, well, let me not say much more from a looking back perspective. 

yet back is the only direction one can look with regards to The Stone Roses. there is no future. when John Squire finally got around to confirming what we had suspected a few years ago - that they had disbanded once more - it had every sense of really being for good this time. 

despite Squire stating that they made a vow never to discuss the second split (and being quite adamant that he was certainly not to be the one to break it) one can make assumptions. the official social media channels for The Stone Roses, for instance, took the step a few years ago to distance the band from statements made by Ian Brown, clarifying that his views on anything (everything) didn't quite reflect all in the group. and then there was the return to a solo career by Ian Brown, done with little (if any) press or interviews, leaving one to make what they will of the lyrical content. 

why wouldn't i celebrate the 11th anniversary of seeing The Stone Roses, i suppose. after all, with thanks and deference to Nigel Tufnel, there is no more rock and roll a number than eleven (11). further, it remains so that there's 11 tracks on their self titled debut album. unless you have the USA version, which has Fool's Gold stuck on the end, somewhat undermining the symmetry of the intended opening and closing track. still, that bass though 

mystery still kind of surrounds the initial, original split. in a way. perhaps it is better to speculate, but yet it was claimed there was a straightforward answer. whilst (or whereas) i have absolutely no means to confirm the veracity, it was reported that when Mani was asked about it he gave the response "four very different people doing four very different types of drugs". i don't think we, the disciples, the believers, the acolytes, wished or wanted to hear something so trivial as that. 

an obscenity, a true blight on the state of our world, is that most of the band now reside in that category of wondering "where are they now". sort of. the exploits of Ian Brown shall forever be news, with his most recent tour being a prime example. not one to go quietly into that good night, him. from what i recall John Squire turned up fairly recently, doing a bit of a guest spot with Liam Gallagher at his mega Knebworth gigs last year. which is what he did for Oasis in 1996, the last time The Stone Roses split up.

but the other two? the ones with the really, really cool, loved (cherished) and admired names? i suppose there is little or no surprise that Reni has gone right off the radar (or the charts) for this is precisely what he did when he left in the first instance. this is less the case with Mani. when he moved from The Stone Roses to Primal Scream that was bright light in a dark world, man. so full of life, character and love, our Mani. no idea at all why he has gone all reclusive, but one can hope he returns to public life one day. 

perhaps the most interesting thing (or thing of interest) is that the cash cow that is The Stone Roses has also ceased. we had a 10th anniversary edition of The Stone Roses and a 20th one too. yet no further ones. also no further "best of" or "greatest" sets, which is a shame, as Beautiful Thing hasn't appeared on a proper CD, and one has to play the one (1) track CD single to hear All For One in such a way. maybe there's dispute or disagreement between them, or they just simply feel people are not going to buy any more copies of it. quite sure they are wrong in respect of the latter. 

one generation under the same groove. 

who is and who isn't, who is and who isn't