hallowed be thy eternal name

now then


and so it ends. once again, look you see, the bold, stark reality of how nothing lasts forever has been ruthlessly exposed to us; we who are little more than wounded animals simply trying to survive on the basis of an instinct to live we cannot comprehend, only obey.

his excellency, his most righteous, his supreme idealistic ambassador for the very best of us mere mortals trapped within the confines of humanity, Jim Bowen, has passed. no more is he of this world, one he was superior to but infinitely humble and proud to be a part of.

my efforts to gather my thoughts into coherent words are, to be sure, at the best of times doomed to fail. instead, then, let me pay tribute here by means of giving you the links to blog posts i have done on this most wonderful man over the years.

Phil Collins Guest Appearance (allegedly) 

The Dark Secrets of Bullseye

Crafty Cockney

Bullseye Christmas Gang Bang (allegedly)

Fashion Week

undoubtedly there are many, many, many more blog posts i have done what feature his excellency, but those are the ones which came to mind. well, came to mind and turned up when i did a quick search.

as you remember that there's nothing in this game for two in a bed, that there is always BFH if nothing else, and of course that you should relax and listen to Tony, please also remember that if the world was just a little bit more like Jim Bowen then it would be a whole lot better for it.




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

someone to shame us, some brave apollo, someone to fool us

hello there


well, yes. as is appropriate when i "go off on one" on this particular subject, a congratulatory confirmation, look you see. indeed you are all right, who shake their heads or tut so - smoking is, no matter what the exact nature or science or study of it, not good for you. how bad it actually is, and, to be sure, what harm it causes others (i am thinking of the precious people who somehow survive yet have to cough when they see someone smoking on the other side of the street, at the end of the same road) is debatable. but no, not good for you.

anyway, with that disclaimer or sorts in place, let me crack on.

of late, it has to be said, i have not had all that much of stuff to celebrate. no. far be it from me to bore you with the dreary details, but there has been some tough times. the darkness fades with the creeping of the lights, however, and whilst perhaps not all free and clear to enjoy days of wine and roses it is decidedly that Ribena and carnations (or similar) are the order of the day.

with such i felt a treat was due. indeed, others wholeheartedly suggested such; as point of fact on more than one instance insisted. and so i did, to be sure. i treated myself. what with? that which my heart and my mind, despite knowing better, crave the most. yes, Marlboro Red.

yes, indeed, your attention and your intentions are all formally drawn to the warning about damage to your lungs on the packet. i know you can all see that, but for reasons of clarity, there you go.

now. how does one explain the difference between Marlboro Red and all (or most) other cigarettes to a non-smoker, exactly? this i feel is important to understand why it is a treat. think triple distilled, aged whiskey vs cheap and nasty. think a premium lager vs supermarket brand lager. think Yorkshire Tea, or Fortnum & Mason tea, vs any other brand of tea. think Parker, or Mont Blanc, pen vs a pack of 50 pens for £1 off of Poundland. i suppose, even, think 2 or 3 ply toilet paper vs 1 ply wax or sand paper like toilet rolls.

for me, then, Marlboro Red offers the personification of a perfect smoking experience. they're smooth, lovely and a pleasure to smoke. quite different from the other (lesser, if we are honest) cheaper brands which i must settle for, which are coarse and crude but ultimately get the job of satisfying a craving, and addiction and i dare say dependency sorted out.

the barrier to smoking Marlboro Red all the time? cost. i am fortunate as friends, notably Spiros and indeed the Child of the Condiment Phoenix from time to time bring me Marlboro from lands where they do not cost quite so much. here, in this England, the price is prohibitively high. well, for my budget at the least.

i have every confidence that yes, you are reading the above correctly and all proper. a packet of Marlboro Red here in England (and presumably Wales, Scotland and Northern Ireland) does indeed cost £10.98. that's considerably north of £10, or if you like just 2p south of £11. when you consider the average smoker, or in this instance simply just me, would get through the business end of a packet a day, you will in your mind note that the cost is formidable. so yes, that is why they are exclusively a treat for me.

the pack of Players Red pictured are the ones i have found, thus far, to be the cigarettes that are "not too bad" and the lowest cost ones available legally. sadly no, i am not a familiar of anyone who sells the dodgy, knocked off or illegally imported ones; though i am open to such a friendship. even then, these "cheap" ones come in, at best, at £7.65 a packet.

one of the more interesting aspects of the "project fear" campaign run by those who wanted the UK to remain in the EU was hammering on about how much money everyone would lose if we left. a rather better approach, perhaps, would have been for George Osborne to preach the benefits of staying from a financial aspect. had he, in his wisdom, elected to announce "if we vote to stay in the EU then we shall reduce the tax levels on fags so that they are as cheap here as they are in the rest of the EU", a rough guess would have been around at least 1,000,000 (one million) more votes for "remain". i am pretty sure i mentioned this at the time; had David "call me Dave" Cameron or George "call me [text removed on legal advice]" Osborne listened, then perhaps they would still have the jobs they wanted and not the ones they have had to settle for. it's not the first time i have been ignored and it shall not be the last.

yes, indeed, the one thing sadder than the prohibitive cost of Marlboro Red is what they have done to the appearance of them. sure, they taste the same, but still, come on. that beautiful, sleek, elegant and masterful work of design what was the Marlboro Red iconic package has been replaced by something quite generic. if we are honest about it, the colour of Marlboro Red packets - and all cigarettes which are legally for sale in the UK - is now that which you imagine Theresa May picks to paint her walls, such is her imagination.

flowers and trees all do basically the same thing, and yet nature allows them to be all colours. in human terms, for some reason bookies, betting adverts, alcohol and a whole load of other vices are free to brand as they will, using a wide range of colours. i don't get why cigarettes now have to look so bland. oh, well, with our general acceptance of bland and limitation in society, it shall not be long before all products are made uniform. Winston Smith, where are you when needed most.

society is, on the whole, fickle. and yet still it prevails that smoking is to blame for all wrong with it. oh, if only everyone stopped smoking, they cried, then things would be better. in particular the NHS. well, no. from 1976 to 2016 the UK population who smokes has fallen from around 50% to south of 16%. the most dramatic fall in this % has been the last ten years, when increased prices and smoking bans have taken effect. and yet, still, each year more and more money is required to keep the NHS going. it's not just smokers who cost all the cash, then. an inconvenient truth that few with political aspirations will say is the obvious - this drive for healthier lives in which we live longer means a bigger, older population who need more and more health care. go figure.

how fickle? it was only 2 or 3 years ago - perhaps more recent - where everyone was up in arms over the idea of their phone messages, emails, texts, calls, etc all being somehow "hacked", monitored or listened to. lots kicked off about the invasion of privacy, etc. and now, all of a sudden, everyone is rushing to get these things off of Amazon, Google, Apple and Microsoft in your home. the ones that sit and listen to you all the time, 24/7, recording the data who knows where.

and of course let us not forget casual double standards.  how we cry and demand gender equality, whether gender by birth or gender we chose to identify as, or have society conveniently identify for us. this equality is demanded right up to the point, of course, when a lady of her own choosing elects to pursue a career in which being a lady is part of it, then unknown forces say "no, you cannot choose that career".

but, alas, no. minds will not be changed on smoking. so long as it is portrayed as the great evil (and it most decidedly is not good), it is the thing which people can see as the worst thing in the world. having focus on one bad thing which must be eliminated stamps out worry on other things, you see, and makes it seem like something must be done.

from now on, then, i suppose i shall have to reserve the treat of a pack of Marlboro Red for those special occasions. i am thinking Royal weddings, births and deaths, maybe. purchasing a pack on such occasions would be an understandable and excusable indulgence. also, as and when that wretched Theresa May is finally ousted from a job she cannot do and never actually wanted to do (she clearly hates people). on that day perhaps i will chainsmoke an entire pack in celebration.

oh, yes, for what it is worth, i thoroughly enjoyed the one packet i had. quite worth it.



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

coffee and a fag

hello there


a matter which has caused some considerable distress is the fact that, look you see, the next - and final - series of that documentary about dragons, midgets and sexual deviants, Game Of Thrones, is some way away from being broadcast. about a year, i believe, or north of that.

the thirst for education so many have is splendid, on the plus side. we seem to no longer have dragons in this world, and indeed our political system is a little bit different when it comes to selecting leadership. how truly splendid that people like watching Game Of Thrones to see how it all once worked.

due to how eager so many are to see the next and final instalment of this documentary series it is the case that, as with many things in this world, advance images have turned up on that "internet" thing. for those interested in such matters, here are some of them advance images. four, as point of fact. .

yes, above is indeed the main narrator of the documentary series, some bloke called Jon Snow. well, ostensibly that is his name, apparently it might be something else. i really, really like this picture of him as it shows him enjoying a coffee and a fag. this is probably him having a quick break between reenacting a battle, or an act of sexual congress.

i say Jon Snow (or whatever) is the main narrator of the series. this has only been in the last 2 or so instalments of it. when the documentary series first began, much fuss was made of how this bloke "knew nothing". his elevation to such a prominent role in the documentary series is, then, surely a celebration of the merits of education. you don't know something until you know it.

yeah, that's him again. he actually features in all of these images. in this one above it seems he is about to have a stroll down some stairs, ones what are made of stone or rudimentary bricks. you can tell this from the direction he is facing.

that one above is probably my second favourite image of these four. it seems that he still has a cigarette on the go, but is asking for more coffee. nice one, man.

ah, now this last one is different and exciting. not only is it Jon Snow on a wall, rather than stairs, but he seems to be dynamically narrating too, rather than having a coffee and a fag.

well, that's that. it is probable that people seeking news and images on Game Of Thrones series 8 have already seen these. should you not have, then all the happier a day it is that you have seen them now.



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

welcome to erotic night

hello


well, this is awkward. i have, look you see, elected to bow to some pressure from certain corners and do a post what is called "erotic night", or variation thereof. to do this strikes me as somewhat tricky, for i am committed to ensuring that all which appears on this blog is, for the most part, suitable for all ages.

just what, exactly, should feature in an "erotic night" blog post? well, Spiros. much of the impetus for this post, on today of all days, stems from him. and what exactly could be more erotic night in nature on a blog post called erotic night than Spiros in a t-shirt what features him off of Knight Rider and several key Sharknado documentaries?

indeed, yes, that is Spiros taking a "selfie" with an exclusive phone that not even Mr & Mrs Kim Kardassian or whatever they are call can afford one. and no, they haven't been given one as the particular brand in question has no wish to be associated with them. but, like most serious, professional and the best of concerns, they do want to be associated with Spiros and they do, from a legal perspective, want to be well within the right side of his vast powers and influence.

also, unless i am very much mistaken, that is indeed a Rocky style robe what Spiros has beautified himself with by wearing. whilst Spiros is normally more at home with the grappling, the grabbing and the hands on ways of wrestling, he does enjoy boxing from time to time.

some news of an erotic night nature which has greatly pleased Spiros of late affects, and this shall come as no surprise to those of you who have followed his exploits here over the years, public restroom facilities for the gentlemen.

Spiros is, of course, passionate and enthusiastic about making short term yet mutually beneficial friendships with other men. it is quite common for him to hang around in public restrooms in pursuit of this, as his vast experience has taught him that this is where gentlemen of a similar frame of mind congregate to make such friendships.

a barrier to this, of late, has been the unwarranted and prohibitive cost of using certain public restroom facilities. now that i think, surely imposing a charge means they are no longer public, but i am not so good on the legal stuff like what Spiros is. paying to meet gentlemen has always been something Spiros got upset about, as he reckons it cheapened the intimacy of the friendship, as short term as it was.

now, or perhaps as of 2019, maybe, such upsetting costs shall be no more. apparently the lavatories of London train stations shall once again be a free for all, with men free to come and go as they so please, even if just to hang around in order to meet a chap or two.

yes, that video above is indeed Uncle Colin, making a most smart Uncle Buck style pancake back on pancake day, which was February, probably. no, i suppose it doesn't really belong on an "erotic night" blog post, but there you go, i have added it now.

the only mildly "erotic night" link to pancakes i can think of is the mythological, urban legend art of "pancaking". no one is certain if it is true or not, but the tale is what one - a gentleman - does to engage in this is go up to a posh restaurant, loosen one's trousers, squash their gentlemen bits up against the window and then knock on the glass, so all patrons may see.

a further rumour i have heard in respect of the above is that there was a very famous practitioner of this means of entertaining yourself and others, presumably during summer months. as i cannot substantiate or verify it is true, i shall not name the celebrity. so, with that in mind, let the record show that i did not mention the singer out of the band Simply Red.

surely, yes, the above is 100% erotic, or erotica, is it not? with some formidable kindness Spiros posted the above to me recently, and indeed forwarded me coins of money to secure it was delivered. he got a little excited about sending it, to be sure, and so neglected to place a stamp on it prior to posting.

it is, i believe, the Commodore 64 style of the image which makes it so erotic - erotica maximus - but the pose struck by Spiros and i certainly helps. this will be somewhere in the region of 20 years ago; actually possibly closer to 22 or 23. 25, even,. maybe.

to be perfectly honest i cannot recall where or when we decided that it would be a good idea to record our fondness for each other, but we did. also, i believe, it remains a good idea. that said, for me it has not led to a life of seeking short term yet mutually beneficial friendships with other members of the gentry.

as we are on an "erotic night" blog post, now is as good a time as any to give you the very latest from my Babe 2018 calendar, what cost £1 off of Poundland. many of you, i know, like to live the days of any year with regards to the conventions of my choice of calendar in a decidedly vicariously way, so here you are.

many of you are, in fairness, probably not wondering what Spiros dines on these days. it would be taken as a given than, for the most part, his rich clients feed him posh things, such as caviar, fried swan and so forth. surprisingly, though, a lower cost food at a bargain price has really taken his fancy.

yes, look you see, faggots. this traditional Welsh dish, comprised of offal and unspecified off-cuts, has really excited him of late. this is, at the least, what i assume he dines on. when i tried to speak to him earlier in the week he informed me that he could not speak as he had some juicy, succulent big faggot in his mouth. man, he must really like the stuff, as this i was told on several instances of trying to call him.

would you like to see that badge like image of Spiros and i celebrating our most distinctly long term friendship again, but this time not in Commodore 64 mode? let me assume you have said yes.

for some strange and peculiar reason Spiros feared that i would not share the above image here. no, i cannot think why i would not. this is a perfectly natural and quite beautiful expression of bromance, taken so very long before the phrase was coined. maybe the person who came up with that term saw this image, and was inspired to do so as a consequence.

well, there you have it. enough erotica for one, post, i believe, to keep you all going for a bit.



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

eucalyptus, apple and pear

g'day


in recent times it has come to be, look you see, that certain people have approached me. they have approached, to be sure, so as they may converse. well, if not converse. "Derek", they say, "why have you not done a post on shampoo or other such personal hygiene products for a while?".

my considered response to this, as you may quite well imagine, is "my name is not Derek". so far as i have been able to ascertain or understand, though, this is of little consequence, as the people do press their point, saying that i - or if you will this "Derek" - have or has not posted on shampoo or body wash for a while. the people, they argue, must have my (or those of Derek) insights prior to making purchases.

undoubtedly the wisest thing i can do at this stage is leave to one side the confusion surrounding my name. perhaps we shall return to this subject during the course of the post, or maybe not. if not, then it is likely to be due to my forgetting. let's have a look at what i have been using of late, then, in the hope that it may assist you - but not, i trust, influence - in selecting similar products.

yes, my dearly loved eucalyptus is back on the radar, so to speak, when it comes to body wash. this is something called "original source extreme energising", and wisely waters down the eucalyptus with some black pepper. not, i hasten to add, chunks of black pepper, but rather some apparent liquefied variant thereof. and, one would guess, "original source" black pepper, too.

one cannot, of course, purchase pure eucalyptus personal hygiene, grooming or health products. to make such available in this day and age is a risk no one shall take. the last time someone was permitted to use body wash and shampoo which was 100% eucalyptus it was David Lee Roth, probably. if so, then that is what made him the greatest, most prolific and bestest ever sexualist in the world. as there can be only one of them, no one else was allowed to bathe in the same way as what he might have done.

the inclusion of the car battery logo is a bit of a cheeky nod to the most decidedly Australian origins of eucalyptus. car batteries are, to be sure, a big deal in Australia. there was a documentary about penguins, one i think which was for some reason called Happy Feet, which showed one penguin having a "thing" for gathering and harbouring pebbles. that penguin and the pebbles is your everyday Australian with car batteries. they love the things, man, and stockpile them.

should you wish to find favour with an Australian, or indeed if you are ever in a position where you have to win them over, then simply present them with a car battery. even better is if you could smuggle a container of them into their fine and proud nation. due to the economic damage caused by widespread and prolific car battery purchase (and, let us be honest, theft) there, the Australian authorities have brought in strict controls around them.

oh, is the eucalyptus and black pepper body wash any good? actually yes it is, it is indeed most splendid. the predominant, overwhelming and frankly only scent i could detect was of the eucalyptus. this is no bad thing, as it is a most lovely fragrance, but i cannot help but wonder what the pepper is for, except to sedate the sexual powers granted to a user of eucalyptus body wash. you certainly can't smell it; or at the least i could not.

maybe the collective of people out there simply think i should be called Derek? or, possibly, someone called Derek has set up his own jolly website and simply steals all of my content 100% so as to populate the site. it is not that i have a problem with the name Derek; far from it. to me it sounds most splendid and dignified. just, well, it isn't my name.

this shampoo has me baffled. no, i do not regret buying it - half a litre of shampoo with two fruits in it for £1 is money well spent all day long. except for the part where it says "normal to greasy hair". going on the wording, which might be inadvertently implying something, i am baffled as to why anyone with normal hair would wish to make it greasy. takes all sorts, i suppose.

anyway, i would like to think that i have normal hair. using this for a couple of weeks has not all of a sudden made my hair greasy. i then suspect it is the case that the makers of this - the same people what do the smart Imperial Leather colonialist soap if i recall right - are trying to say that you can use it to a relative level of success if you have normal or greasy hair. no, thank you, i am ok, i am not putting a whole load of grease in my hair to see what happens when i use this shampoo on it.

echoing the body wash somewhat, this shampoo appears to be dominated on the whole by the apple. whereas i have every confidence that the pear is in it, for it says so on the packaging, i have failed to detect it. also, there is no lemon. i have made the point about how lemon should be in shampoo at all times many times before, but to recap it is because Jason Donovan said so. but, anyway, this does indeed do a rather good job of washing my hair. any of the recent selfies posted here which show my hair give clarification to this claim, should it be required.

right, then. hopefully this has addressed the requests which have been put forward if not to me, then to Derek. usually, indeed invariably, it is the cost of a product which determines whether or not i purchase it, particularly when it comes to personal hygiene stuff. but, if for some reason any of the above has helped you out, well then so much the better.



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

Blade Runner 2049

hello people


yes, indeed. as a sort of up to the minute, cutting edge review this is, look you see, quite late. many or any of those interested in the motion picture Blade Runner 2049 will in all likelihood seen it, or elected to give it a miss. i, however, only saw it when the home video (disc) release came around in the first week of February. a number of my friends and most of my family would, no doubt, think something was wrong or otherwise amiss if i failed to comment on the movie.

a quick, spoiler free and rapid review would be that whilst Blade Runner 2049 is needlessly long, it is quite the visual treat and, mostly, is an above average film with moments of genius. the "borrowing" from other films is interesting, and ultimately it exists to show that Blade Runner is a film which required no direct or obvious sequel, no matter how good that sequel may very well be.

right, a break from the normal. there is no possible way i can work out to speak of this film without huge, big massive spoilers. and so a *** SPOILER ALERT WARNING *** is in place. for both Blade Runner 2049 and a couple of other films. so you have been warned to go ahead and read with caution, and here is another warning.

READERS BE AWARE

HUGE SPOILERS FOR BLADE RUNNER 2049 FOLLOW

CONTINUE AT YOUR OWN RISK!

what qualifications do i bring to speak of Blade Runner 2049? if you were to ask friends and family i dare say they would suggestion i am a "passionate" or if you will "far too obsessive" type of fan of the original. i don't quite think i am a member of some sort of deranged lunatic fringe; just rather someone who has a healthy appreciation for how astonishing Blade Runner was, is and always shall be.

making a sequel to a much loved, seemingly self-contained film somewhere north of 30 years later was, then, a brave move. and, to their credit, the makers knew this, with the director (a bloke called Denis) saying that he knew "lovers of the original would be going to see this armed with baseball bats to take me apart" if he got it wrong. as mentioned above, then, phew, for he did not "get it wrong" as such.

the tricky part of this was always going to be the plot. this they got right, kind of. in borrowing from one of the better "sequel" novels, in this case one i read some 20 (!) years ago called Edge Of Human, and also, in a roundabout way, the superb film adaptation of Children Of Men, they came up with a story relevant and in keeping with the Blade Runner world, and was further one more or less worth telling. should you wish to know the finer points of this plot, well, hit the google. i shall carry on assuming you are aware of it.

an initial disappointment came quite early on. the superb opening was somewhat spoiled when it was revealed that "K", played most splendidly by Ryan Gosling, was indeed a replicant. oh, i thought. there goes the intrigue and the guessing about whether he is or isn't, a la Deckard in the original. but, then again, to rehash that character trait would be to simply mimic the original. also, it's an important premise as the film goes on, "K" being a replicant, as it turns out he might be just more than this.

so, the point and premise of Blade Runner 2049. after briefly being outlawed - not ever fully explained in the films - replicants are back, now being created by Niander Wallace (Jared Leto), who bought up what was left of the Tyrell Corporation. whilst he has made replicants more placid and slave like, he simply cannot make them at the rate required for Earth's colonisation of planets. the answer is to investigate a legend; the story of how one Replicant gave birth.

this premise is viable in many ways. other than giving a practical reason to have Deckard and Rachel (yes, the parents according to the myth or legend) in the film, it does feel like a natural development of the Nexus replicant technology in the Blade Runner world. which is probably why it was, from what i remember, pretty much the crux or point of departure for Edge Of Human.

"K" is on the hunt for the replicant child too. this is mostly because he has been ordered to find and destroy it, out of fear that the idea of replicants breeding causing mayhem amongst humans. partially, as the film goes on, however, it's because he starts to suspect that maybe, maybe, he himself is the mythical child. and so for an hour or so the plot goes very much Angel Heart, only not as interesting because you know what exactly the plot twist might be.

further disappointment comes as "K" hunts Deckard. yay! woo hoo! there's Edward James Olmos. no! boo! they spoil this by having him act as an elder Edward James Olmos, rather than Gaff. the accent is gone, and he does not speak in Cityspeak, but rather plain English. also, when he speaks of his relationship with Deckard, it sounds like it was written by someone who had never ever seen their relationship in the original film and assumed they were partners. but still, thanks - a "for the fans" scene that actually helped move the plot along.

Harrison Ford as Deckard? ok, this is now the third time Harrison Ford has been dragged in to play a character he last played in the 80s, and also has been blessed with a child on his return. weird, but anyway. so, whilst his return as Indiana Jones did not gone down too well, and his return as Han Solo was to simply make the coolest smuggler in the galaxy a bumbling idiot, here it's all note perfect. considering Ford was not really a lover of the original (he dismissed his part, saying he was "a detective that never did any actual detective work"), he plays the part brilliantly; something made easier no doubt by the fact that a convincing job has been done of writing Deckard 30 years on.

does Blade Runner 2049 "borrow" from any films other than the ones already mentioned? goodness me yes. the most impressive of these is A Clockwork Orange. the manner in which they check replicants, or at the least "K", is not developing any signs of rebellion is Ludovico Technique through and through. a nod to this, or sorts, comes in the scene when "K" finds Deckard. two erotic statues guard the building. if, like me, you are a Kubrick enthusiast, you will note or think straight away that they are massive versions of the, erm, milk dispensers from the Korova Milk Bar.

the film also elects to take a bizarre turn past Waterworld. wood is now the most valuable commodity on the planet, and the more you have the wealthier you are. this then ditches the idea of the original, and indeed the source material in the form of the Do Androids Dream Of Electric Sheep? novel, of real and artificial animals being the difference. you only really notice this when "K" encounters some bees and gets enchanted by them. at that point you notice the emotional engagement of the characters has gone because the animal motif is absent.

other flaws? far too bloated. this story did not need one hour longer than the original film to be told, but they went ahead and did that. i am glad i decided to skip it at the cinema; a decision made on the running length alone. i suspect that, as visually stunning as it is, i would have walked out bored and yawning, hating the film. which i do not. also, the symbolism is a bit too heavy handed at times. as in "hey! Eldon Tyrell died via having his eyes crushed in! let's make a continuance of this by making his successor blind!".

also, the effects are just not right. it's not really the fault of using CGI as such, although yet it is. the spinners and all other such wonderful things are far too pristine, clean, sharp and crisp (hello, Faye). it's all supposed to be a dark, dirty and murky future.

the music, as hinted at in the trailer, is a thing of beauty. i was worried about the apparent lack of Vangelis, but the new score is superb. except they undermine it. every now and then - mostly in key scenes - they echo or mix in some of the Vangelis score. all this does is remind you of how brilliant that one was, really, and distracts from the fact you are watching a different film. 

if i may borrow from the original film somewhat, Blade Runner 2049 has been built as well as anybody could make it - but not to last. somehow i doubt that this film shall be treasured, discussed, worshipped or maybe even watched 30 years from now, as was, is and always will be with the original. 

really, there was no more story to tell. Blade Runner, in whatever of the versions you prefer, was a complete story in itself. bravo, sincerely, for them finding a plausible and agreeable story to tell after the fact, but at best this makes it a nice bonus rather than something essential or a thing that people have hoped for. 

yes, then, a good film and kind of worth the effort of watching, but i am not at all sure the world really needed Blade Runner 2049. a short version is that it adds absolutely nothing to the original concept or story, just some lovely visuals and an expansion on some ideas. 

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

i was cold as a stone

heya


this is coming to be, or if you like becoming, a regular thing. just last month, from what i recall, i did a post on snow from the month before. here, look you see, i do the same thing again.

last month, then, i, to be sure, had reason to go travelling over or indeed across the plains of Yorkshire; that place widely regarded and accepted as fact as being the most beautiful on the planet. fate, or perhaps a quirk of the seasonal ways, ensured that such travels took place through snow.

quite a few people assume, presume or otherwise think that it must be awesome to live within easy access of the beauty of Yorkshire. indeed, generally it is, but the people i speak of think as they do with specific focus on recreating key scenes from An American Werewolf In London. to this end, i can most decidedly assure you that yes, sticking to the roads (lads) is a very very good idea. what the challenge is, of course, is in keeping to the roads despite the very finest efforts of the ice and snow upon the road.

yes, sure, playing out key scenes from An American Werewolf In London is a key aspect of life in Yorkshire. also other parts of England. why, exactly, for instance, would you ever visit Tottenham Court Road tube station down in that there London to do anything but recreate the famous scene shot there?

indeed, one of them selfie things for you. yes, of me. again, toughies if you don't like them, part of the new way here is that i do. besides, you can look at the lovely background if nothing else.

should we assume for the moment that i was not up, out and on the Moors simply to recreate aspects of An American Werewolf In London despite it being the wrong time of year to do so, what was i doing? nothing that i can discuss here, but nothing untoward. besides, why would you not take a drive that way when the snow was down on the ground?

another scene of the lands covered, if only slightly, in snow for you. no, i was not driving, as point of fact, and so it was perfectly safe and legal (as far as i am aware) for me to have taken these images.

you know what, why not have another picture of me here, along with some quaint and picturesque snow covered Yorkshire in the background.

indeed i am wearing a coat in that snow, and a jumper. yes, i understand that this leaves me open to being accused of being a fanny or, even worse, a "southern softie". well, so be it, for it was cold. also, still snowing, so i thought a jacket with a hood would be prudent so as to keep the watery stuff out of my eyes and away from my glasses.

going on current form, if it snows again this month (March) then in all likelihood it shall be during April that i add the pictures. a bit of a "throwback" or "remember when" approach, i suppose.

well, anyway, that's that for this post. except to say beware the moon, stick to the roads, etc......



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

random bowie - the man who sold the world

Howdy Pop Pickers



Well, here we are. Another edition or episode of Random Bowie, look you see. As this is the third edition / episode of this year it struck me as somewhat appropriate to go all the way back to the third album by Bowie; or at the least the third album as per the commonly agreed and accepted way of counting them.

Yes, then. In this article (sorry, I cannot be pestered writing edition / episode each time) it’s the turn of The Man Who Sold The World. This record is something of a curiosity in the world of David Bowie. Whereas once it was fairly obscure and pretty much not overlooked but simply not looked at (or rather heard), a certain 90s cover – the umpteenth cover of the song – of the titular track made the world all of a sudden pay attention.

But first, as standard, some fantastic (I hope), quickfire facts. The record was released in America during late 1970, with the UK release only coming some six months later. On release the album made little to no impact in terms of the chart, possibly due to no singles being released in support of it. Slight chart success followed in the wake of that whole Ziggy Stardust business making Bowie a huge star. On that note, The Man Who Sold The World is in many respects a “prototype Ziggy” in terms of line up, as this is where Mick Ronson and Mick “Woody” Woodmansey make their debut proper in regards of appearing in Bowie’s backing band.

This album was something of a peculiar, unusual step, then. After the whimsical, quasi psychedelic pop of his first album, the moon landing boosted success of Space Oddity and the flat out “I am a hippy” sound of his second album, well, bam bam. David Bowie in his infinite wisdom elected to go all hard rock and heavy metal. And brilliantly so, I can tell you now. Well, mostly.

Where to begin with this? Yeah, I know I have already begun, but you know what I mean. The music, I suppose.

The album opens with the sublime opus that is The Width Of A Circle. It is, quite frankly, an astonishing, breathtaking work. Don’t take my word for this, please do seek it out and listen if you’ve not heard it. And further to that, also don’t take my word for it – despite the album not being a huge seller, this song remained a central part of Bowie’s live sets all the way through to 1974.

What makes The Width Of A Circle so special? The audacity, I suppose. It’s a thumping, sexually and religiously charged epic of some eight minutes. Despite a clear narrative being in place few have dared to guess what on earth it is all about. Most best guesses interpret it as an iconoclastic, playfully homoerotic and at times decidedly hetero sexual tryst between man, god and devil. But, if you’ve not heard it, don’t worry so much and just play the song, revel in it.

I would think there could be little doubt that Width Of A Circle was inspired by some of Bowie’s on musical heroes. This came, after all, not long after “rock opera” works were all the rage. Perhaps The Who was a big influence on this, but more A Quick One While He’s Away than Tommy. Also works such as The Kinks Are Village Green Preservation Society by, erm, The Kinks. My suspicions are that a certain Freddie Mercury was also a big fan of The Width Of A Circle, as Bohemian Rhapsody borrows a bit of theme, structure and lyrical inspiration from it. Perhaps Bowie mentioned this in passing during the alleged highly sordid sessions what saw Under Pressure performed and recorded.

And yes, oh yes, this is a heavy metal song. Sure, the homoerotic subtext might be at odds with how heavy metal is understood at face value, in particular from an early 70s definition, but metal it is. As mentioned earlier, the album is all hard rock and heavy metal, except for the bits where it is being blues.

Why was this? Well, here in 2018 we look back fondly – and rightly – as Bowie being the great innovator, the one who inspired generation after generation of musician. May, on that note, his music inspire many more. But back then, it was Bowie who sought to be inspired.

The fact that this album was released in America long before the UK is a clue. I have no evidence or testimony for this, but you cannot help feel Bowie saw bands like Led Zeppelin and Black Sabbath have a world of (in no particular order) money, sex, drugs, fame, adulation, worship and critical acclaim from the heavy metal sound. Why, exactly, would Bowie not want to have a crack at getting some if not all of that for himself with a similar sound?

Please don’t misinterpret the above. By no means do I suggest that The Man Who Sold The World is some sort of attempt at cashing in on the success of a particular sound. This is well and truly a Bowie album; evidenced by the lyrical wonders across it all.

A moment to reminisce, if you will, before I get to “the big one” on the record (yes, the titular track). Back in the 80s and early 90s I took some stick and some jibes for being a Bowie fan. Most of my mates, fairly, knew or thought of Bowie as “that gay pop star” and were aware of nothing but his bank account pleasing 80s pop.

This was all before the grand reissuing campaign for Bowie’s albums on CD began. Getting hold of his less well known 70s work was tricky, then. As a result, my first encounter with The Man Who Sold The World was a copy on tape borrowed off a library. For some reason I was unable to return it on time, so asked a friend – one who had given some stick and jibes – to take it back. This they did. As it happens, they decided to play the tape before returning it, presumably with the intention of getting more material or evidence to tease me with. Instead, they confessed to playing it, suggested that they “might” have been wrong about Bowie, and asked if I could possibly tape some more of his stuff for him, so long as it was like that rather than Let’s Dance.

So, the title track. The Man Who Sold The World. As was the case with a number of key songs to follow, this was a tune that Bowie loved, very much, but never felt as though he “got it right”. To this extent the song got “farmed out” and covered some. In the 70s no less than Lulu did a version – one that bizarrely charted very well. The 80s saw no less than Midge Ure cover it, but it didn’t do so well. And then came the 90s and then came Nirvana doing it as part of their MTV Unplugged set.

How important was the Nirvana cover in the grand scheme of things? Very. From a Bowie perspective, the way Kurt Cobain played it sounded like the way it should always have been played. Indeed, not long after Nirvana’s MTV performance, Bowie all of a sudden started playing the song in his own sets again, doing so in a way that sounded informed if not influenced by the Nirvana approach to it. So far as I am aware, however, Bowie didn’t ever declare his love for the Nirvana cover. He might have in interviews that I am not aware of, but the closest I can find to a reference is that one time he told Dave Grohl out of Nirvana to “f*** off”.

Beyond in a sense enabling Bowie to bring a song he loved back into his set, it is not getting carried away to say that Nirvana covering Bowie brought Bowie to a whole new audience. Oh, sure, fuddy duddy fans like me would love to say that the 1993 double whammy of Black Tie White Noise and The Buddha Of Suburbia were the key to the sort of quasi rejuvenation and revival he got. In truth, Nirvana selecting a Bowie song for their most widely seen – and if not actually then close to being their final – performance got people curious and wanting to hear more. Not bad, when you consider that MTV baulked at the setlist Nirvana proposed to do, requesting the band do things such as drop the Bowie cover in favour of doing one of their own hits.

Earlier I spoke of influence and being influenced. The Man Who Sold The World might not have sold many copies or been a huge hit, but the sound of it clearly fell on the right ears. Nirvana are far from alone in being a band which cite this record as being a major influence on them making music in the first place. To illustrate, have a listen to She Shook Me Cold. Maybe it is just me, but the haunting, dominating and thumping bass at the opening would not sound out of place at all on Nevermind or Bleach.

So, I’ve discussed two of the tracks on the record. No, I am not going to discuss any more in detail. My humble hope with these posts is to try and do my bit to inspire people to go and find Bowie albums they might not be aware of and enjoy, or (most likely) go and rediscover them.

Well, except to say there’s some fascinating extras on the 1990 version of the CD what I have here. Of the four tracks, two of them went on to be well known – Moonage Daydream and Hang On To Yourself. These are not demo versions, dear reader – they are ones recorded with every intention of being released as they were. With good fortune they were not, and were instead reworked into better songs for the Ziggy Stardust album.

Any controversy around The Man Who Sold The World? Oh, goodness me, yes. Lots of it, existing at just about every possible level. Let’s start with the actual construction and composition of the album.

Due to the record not being a massive seller it was rare that Bowie spoke of it. When he did, often it was in tones of frustration. Disappointment that it didn’t reach a bigger audience or release, dissatisfaction with the arrangement of the titular track never feeling quite right and disgust at the allegation that he was in some way just “window dressing” on the record, or “pixie dust” if you are a Troggs fan. Certain people who worked on the record claimed that the music was all done with no involvement from Bowie, and his contribution was to – claimed reluctantly – drag himself away briefly from Angie in order to throw a few words together. Bowie, without getting angry with many or any, has always refuted this. I our evidence is the work which followed from all, the most reasonable of jury and the most objective of judge would, methinks, find in favour of Bowie’s interpretation of events.

How about other controversy? Well, how about the cover. Or, yes, covers. The Man Who Sold The World has at least four. Undoubtedly pictures of them all feature with this post, but for the most part two are of interest.

Firstly, and the most famous of the covers, the “man dress” one. The elegant portrait of Bowie lazing on a splendid couch, wearing a by the standard of 1970 eloquent, divine, sophisticated and to die for frock designed by Michael Fish.

Quite a bold statement, that. In 1970 there was no “shades of grey”, no “I identify as this gender”, etc. No. A gentleman who wore a dress was gay, or harsher words as used in those somewhat less tolerant times. Yes, sure, in retrospect it is easy to see and say that the move was Bowie starting to toy and play with the androgynous image which fascinated him. For me, though, this is the start of a lifelong passion he had for subversion. To subvert is what he loved doing, right until the end. If you’re going to deliver a hard rock, stone cold solid macho heavy metal album, why not subvert it and listener expectations by gaying up the cover?

The other cover I want to speak of is perhaps even more interesting. It’s the one of the cowboy with the blank or if you like empty speech bubble. Yes, there was text in the bubble, but the record label ordered it removed.

What did it say? There’s a funny thing – the text was removed from the original, apparently, and no one can remember for sure. Apparently it was something along the lines of “roll up your sleeves and show me your arms”. This worked as a drug use reference, as the cowboy asking a poker player to show they were not cheating and somehow a homosexual reference, the nature of which flies over my head. Yes, I’m curious as to what it actually said, but no, rather let it remain a mystery.

As we head towards the end, unless I fiddle and add some comments about some of the songs, is The Man Who Sold The World an album worth getting for the casual Bowie fan, or for music lovers in general? My answer is a resounding yes, if only because it’s the only practical way to get and hear the two songs I have gone into any detail about. There is a great deal more to the album than just them two, mind. But they are songs I would call absolutely essential listening for anyone with even the slightest interest in Bowie.

So, another edition / episode done. Quite an interesting one, I think. Hopefully I’ve highlighted how important the album was in terms of its influence on musicians who followed, and quite by chance in terms of bringing Bowie to an entirely new audience. For an album with no genuine hits and few sales, it sure did seem important.

Thinking on and looking back, I suppose it might just be fair to say that, in retrospect, the first Tin Machine could be interpreted as Bowie trying to back to the sound of The Man Who Sold The World. Little wonder if so, really. Several critics, writers who make money off writing (which is more than I do) and so on have declared this album to be the one which marked “the start of Bowie proper”. With the lost sense of direction he apparently had, where better, then, for him to return to when seeking to get back on track.

Anyway, that’s that. No, not a clue what the next edition / episode will be. For now, then, I can only hope this has been an interesting read for you, and that you give the music spoken of a go.



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

can you watch Bullseye repeats in Nottingham?

hello again


so, another month and another post about Bullseye. or, indeed, Bullseye, look you see, if you are keen on all things italics. i know that Dan Brown is really enthusiastic about italics, as he peppers his books with them, regardless of whether or not they are required.

if you are all upset about italics, then, just ignore them here. assume that i have added them on the off chance that Dan Brown is interested in the answer to the question posed by the title, i have accommodated him with because of this and, well, you can get on with your life.

to let you get on with your life even more, a quickfire answer to the question is, indeed, yes you can, so long as you have a TV what is able to receive them "Freeview" digital channels - the one what shows Bullseye in particular - and, of course, that Bullseye repeats happen to be being broadcast.

and there, ladies and gentlemen, or anyone else, is picture proof of this. not conclusive, of course, but i shall indeed get to that.  but, for now, indulge yourself as you gaze upon pre-Papal appointment Jim Bowen looking somewhat interested, maybe perplexed, by either a question he has posed or an answer what a contestant has humbly presented for consideration.

frame, or if you like frames, of reference. at this stage all you have as evidence in terms of me saying yes, you can indeed watch Bullseye on the tele in Nottingham (provided it is being broadcast, etc) is my word that the above was taken there.

well, the best i can do at this stage to assure, if not quite convince, you that the above image of Jim Bowen presenting Bullseye is to present you with this picture of me, or if you like moi, shortly after arriving at the train station there. as it was.

indeed, yes, this was pre-fire, but still of this year. so early January, then. i am uncertain if the part or area of the train station what i was at was affected by the fire. nor do i have any idea how, at this stage, reconstruction work is going. so perhaps, or maybe, it doesn't look like that no more. but this was how Nottingham looked when i arrived.

my thoughts and feelings on Nottingham? we shall probably look at these as we go, really. but, for now, i think it would be of a fair level to say mixed. the place was not as excellent or as splendid as i had quite hoped it would be, but this is not to say that it was all entirely bad.

for now, then, the matter at hand. just how is it that i have somehow become the ipso facto, by default or inadvertent design consequence. go to resource for Bullseye, exactly? not sure. i just have a healthy appreciation for the show; one which i had assumed that every living soul who had witnessed it would share. maybe some had lost sight of the magnificence of it all, and seek reaffirmation here.

yeah, that's the contestants who were on the episode of Bullseye what i had on, with little or no trouble, whilst i was in Nottingham. no, so far as i am aware, none of the contestants in this episode were members of the landed gentry or other such celebrities. just because Bullseye was known to attract the elite of society did not mean that every episode featured them. they just had some "commoners days", quite like that Wimbledon thing with the tennis. which is not as interesting as darts.

for what reason might Bullseye not have been available to the members of the public who live in Nottingham? that is a good question. people what plan television broadcasts are, at once, bright but not the brightest. in seeking to gain maximum viewership assurances across demographics, they can lose sight of the specifics. which is, of course, that all love Bullseye, except them what don't, and them what don't wouldn't have the tele on anyway, so they are of no relevance or consequence.

i would like to think that tele programmers did not consider a "blanket ban" on Bullseye because they did not trust the people of Nottingham to contextualize it all. had it been blocked - which i would again like to point out it was not - i hope it was not for some unfounded idea that it might make the people of the place think that playing any form of darts was the doorway what led to taking ownership of a speedboat, or a stereo with a "laser record player" on it.

yes, that is indeed a picture of me. there are a couple more to come too, so be warned if you do not like seeing pictures of me. this is the risk you have when you elect to visit my blog, though. indeed i am in an elevator in the above picture.

now, as is with all things, is a good time to use Australian cricket as a point of reference. in Australia, right, when they have a Test match on, coverage on the tele is limited if not entirely blocked in the particular State where it is being played. this is done so as to encourage all possible to go along to the cricket ground - the SCG, for instance, or the GABBA - and watch it for real rather than via whatever takes the fancy of the cameraman.

perhaps a ban on Bullseye and similar yet obviously inferior, games of chance might have been considered by them what do the tele broadcasting as a means of encouraging the people of Nottingham to get up and go appear on game shows themselves. going on the large, indeed alarming, number of casinos i observed as being available in the place, i do not believe that the people of the city require all that much encouragement to participate or otherwise engage in games of chance.

that's one of the contestants on the episode i happened to photograph. he is 16.6% of the contestants on the show, but of course 33%, or one third, of the dart playing contestants. so far as i know he is not a celebrity. also, from what i remember, he was not from Liverpool. that last bit is peculiar, as he has a Scouse 'tache, Scouse perm, Scouse earring and Scouse shell suit on. i failed to catch where he was from, but in his heart it is clear that where he is going is of importance, and that place would seem to be Liverpool.

my hopes for my visit to Nottingham were high. please note that this was not a pleasure trip, but rather a business concern that i cannot really discuss in any great detail. anyway, that's relevant in terms of understanding my comments.

overall, and with a heavy heart, i have to say that my experience of Nottingham was that it was edging towards unwelcoming if not downright hostile. it was, frankly, the only place i have been in the UK where i felt uneasy or insecure when walking the streets, day or night. yes, there are danger spots in places such as London and Manchester, but i never got any sense of being threatened in any way in either of those places. not so in Nottingham, where everything and everyone appeared to carry an edge to them, or it.

Nottingham, being of the Midlands, holds a peculiar place in the minds of those above it and below. to us from the north it is effectively "the south"; if not London and so forth then close enough. but then to those of the south, such as London, Margate, Southampton, Devon and what have you, Nottingham and the Midlands is in effect to them "the north". for that group, i certainly hope that they do not wander Nottingham, think "this is bad, surely anyone further north will be worse", for we are most certainly not.

i'd really like to understand the reasons behind why i felt as i did in Nottingham. it was not at all what i expected. the homeless were far more visible and prominent there than in any other place i had been to in England of late. also, people clearly with issues related to the use of alcohol and drugs were of their most visible. but there was a good deal more to the tension. perhaps this pertains to the often well documented immigrant / asylum seeker situation in the area, but it is not my place to say such as statement with no knowledge or insight to substantiate.

my hopes for Nottingham were not particularly romantic or over glorified, i think. a city where Brian Clough made his home, and his name, could not be at all bad, i thought. also, i was surprised by the lack of highlighting or marketing the connection to the myth, legend or if you believe so reality of Robin Hood. i think i saw a public transport company named after him in passing, and that was it.

yes, indeed, there is Tony Green, doing his thing. i note his stance is so that he can gaze at the audience, so perhaps an aristocrat or similar was indeed in the audience. and yes, that 41 was the score achieved by that lad in the picture earlier; the one what seemed to have his heart set on being the personification of the Liverpool look.

would i consider a return to Nottingham? it is highly likely that such has already happened in between the time i wrote this and when it appears here on my blog. sorry, i have developed quite a passion for this "scheduling" posts business now that i have found the button.

at this stage, going on my experience thus far, i would not visit Nottingham for pleasure or social reasons. it is rather more that i would go there because i had or needed to, rather than wished to do so. this is a shame. after all, above all other stuff, it is where Bad News got arrested for taking on the whole of the Nottingham Constabulary; a battle they lost no matter how plucky they were.

but also, there were things what i liked. the staff in stores i went to were friendly, at the least, as were the staff of the hotel where i was. you could argue, though, that this is precisely what they are paid to do. even then, when i went in to Tesco to address a small, personal matter (cigarettes), the staff on the till had an edge; maybe that tremor of intent with instinct telling them that any customer is a potential problem.

our country is in disarray. there is a massive divide which has always been, but the friction of it has been increased a great deal. many point out that the EU referendum takes the blame for that, along with the elevation of an entirely unsuitable and unqualified person to be PM, with them subsequently winning on paper only an election that no one had a wish for. if all of this is what is coming to the boil and making feeling like i did in Nottingham, well, there are testing days ahead of each of us, no matter what we thought of the result of any election or related vote.

so, yes, then. in my experience it is perfectly possible to watch Bullseye whilst in Nottingham, so long as there is a tele capable of receiving the transmissions of the Challenge channel. again, to qualify this, i saw it in a hotel. no one in Nottingham invited me into their home, so i am unsure on a residential side.

anyway, that will do for now. yes, i suppose or suspect, but not at this stage expect, that Bullseye will feature on this blog again. maybe not next month, but one never knows.



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