the tall one out of that show

heya


let me start this one off with an unusual and out of character disclaimer (of sorts), look you see. usually the spirit with which (most) things here are written about is clearly and patently of a nature of no ill-will, but to be reassuring i have absolutely no quarrel at all with that tall one out of that show, who i believe is more commonly referenced as Richard Osman out of Pointless.

i really don't have any issues with the chap as such, or per se, but there is an undeniable proliferation of his presence on our television screens. this is of course true if by "our" you understand it as being the UK, for that is where i am, and where i can speak of.

with this being an ongoing (or if you like perpetual) issue (i did not say problem), there is of course a specific reason, or prompt, as to why this appears here now. normally one expects to see him in any number of regular shows, but is quite a surprise when he turns up unexpectedly in one which is usually not associated as one of his stomping grounds. like, for instance, a 1989 edition (or two) of Top Of The Pops.

yes, of course, at the forefront, or front and centre, is Sonia doing one of her performances of the smash hit single You'll Never Stop Me From Loving You. but one of the background dances is obviously and clearly Richard Osman, in that he is tall and has the same weird hair style, and more or less the same hair colour. so i am reasonably confident that it is him. as he would have been about 19 when this was on, it looks like it could be.

there would be folly in me referencing Sonia and not discussing her here. a very good pop star, from what i can recall, who suffered from needless, over complicated referral comparisons. i do not have an encyclopedic recollection, but there was a great rush to describe her in means such as the English Tiffany, the Scouse Tiffany, the British Madonna, the thinking man's Kylie and ways like that. maybe, with of course the benefit of retrospect, it would have been better just to let her flourish and thrive as just who she was, which was enough.

but, my stated intention was to be that is was all more to do with the tall one out of that show, and so let me try and get back to it. for a start, how about some footage of him, busting some fancy moves? if, of course (or indeed) it is actually him, and i am reasonably confident that this is so.

should you have watched that, maybe more than once, and noted that he is well capable of doing that dancing business, i would agree. absolutely no way would i say he could be capable of such smooth and slick moves, based on how awkward he comes across when called on to do absolutely anything which is not just sit in a chair, looking and sounding quite clever.

following on from that last comment, as opposed to following on from the one which is yet to exist, there is every sense that they are attempting to do a "reverse Stephen Fry" with this Richard Osman bloke. i am not convinced it shall work. whereas Stephen Fry was a brilliant and gifted comic actor and performer, he apparently came to understand he could get just as much (if not more) money from that by simply sitting in a chair, reading things off of a computer screen or bit of paper, eloquently and sounding clever, and somehow got awarded that "national treasure" status too, which in fairness is quite a common accolade these days.

the reverse path is, as mentioned, being followed here. or at least they are trying. with this Richard Osman being an absolute boss as sitting down, looking at a computer screen, reading stuff off of it in a well spoken voice and sounding clever, someone has assumed that this must mean he can go on and be a tall, eloquent English comedy great, just like Stephen Fry is, or was. not so much, i think, not so much.

generally, it would be fair to say that any effort to have him do something (anything) which does not involve him sitting at a desk, reading off a screen and sounding clever has mixed results. with the mix ranging from poor to weak in delivery. this is as true of when he hosts his own show (House Of Games or something, which admittedly suffers from a poor idea to begin with), or things where he is expected to "do stuff", like Task Master.

what's the main problem with him? mostly there seems to be no natural affinity for embracing comic timing in anything he delivers, and so far no evidence that he is prepared to learn how to do such. also, he does not come off so much as "offish" in any entertaining sense, but rather as just not interested. awkward and embarrassed would be perhaps the best way to describe his performances.

the biggest issue, or concern, is just how hard they are pushing him onto our screens. at present, his MF ratio is 84% when using the imperial measurement, or 86% when using the metric calculation. for clarification, this relates only to the conventional broadcasts scheduled, monday to friday.

it could be the case that you are not, for some reason, familiar with the MF ration, or what the difference is, exactly, between the imperial and metric calculations. well, for clarification, it of course is the case that MF stands for Mahoney Factor. should we accept that it is not unreasonable to expose audiences to one Police Academy film every day, then it is fair to assess how often someone else features on television every day as a measurement of the average length of a Police Academy film.

a general preference is to use the imperial measurement of the MF ration, which is 88.5 minutes. this is based on the average running time of the first four Police Academy films, which were (or are so far) the only ones to feature the character of Mahoney. but, of course, the problem is the French. rather infamously, and because this is as far as their imagination and sense of comedy stretches, the dubbed French versions of Académie de Police has all the characters called Mahoney. they find that funny, apparently. anyway, as such, to get to the metric MF ratio, one has to average all 7 films out, which gives you 87.2 minutes.

so, when you take regulation, scheduled Richard Osman appearances - the smug Pointless and the dire Richard Osman House Of Games, you get (i think) 75 minutes. this keeps his MF ratio just yet satisfactorily below 100%. when you add in other daily (monday to friday) appearances, however, you get dangerously above a 100% MF ratio. such instances include, but are not limited to things like Pointless repeats, a failed go at making him be on Task Master, and a suspiciously high number of appearances in the endless stream of Jon Richardson In Something We Have Thought To Put John Richardson In show.

but, this post was never meant to be about his appearances exceeding any natural saturation point. no, instead, the focus was supposed to hone in on the absolutely boss dancing moves he done when he was just starting out and regularly appeared as a backing dancer for Sonia. if, indeed, that is Richard Osman appearing on Top Of The Pops with her, which i am reasonably sure it is. might not be, but, with the greatest respect to whoever it actually is, it makes for a nicer world view if we just assume that yes, it is him.

in conclusion, i am led to believe that this (possible) one time dancer, current forced on us entertainment performer is going to publish a novel later in the year, 2020. assuming, of course, that we all do not die of plague in the battles of the invisible war. apparently he has been paid north of one million coins for such. let there be no doubt that, as and when it turns up on the shelf in paperback at Tesco for a modest price, i shall end up buying it and maybe even reading it.



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

improbable australian theatrical crosswords

g'day


not all that much for me to add in words, look you see, beyond the title. this is just for those who are looking for something to print out and do to fill the time they apparently have.

lacking any sort of formal inspiration for a post here, yet strangely feeling compelled to add something, i consulted an "internet" and stumbled upon a magazine called theatre australia. quite a good read it is.

for some reason i thought one or two of you, or anyone, might (might) want to save, or download, and then print out a couple of crosswords from 1979 (AD) editions of this particular periodical. this is being written in the final gestures of May (2020), where and when we are still, ostensibly, fighting the invisible war on the plague.

here is the first crossword, then. it appears that it was some sort of competition thing. to this end i opted to leave the section for your name and address in it. whilst i would suspect the deadline for entries, so to speak, has long since gone, feel free to send it off. no, sorry, i do not know the address to send it to.

the clues for the "across" segments, or aspects, of this particular crossword are below. i read the first one, felt something of a headache coming on, and thus elected not to read the rest.

unless i am much mistaken, the above is a mixture of straightforward clues and "cryptic" ones. unless it is some film or (proper) music crossword, i am terrible at all forms of them, and just cannot get my head around unscrambling cryptic ones.

yes, the down clues. they are below, or down, if you like.

perhaps i am just thick, then, and indeed i can hear one or two of you say "yes, absolutely" in agreement with this, believing no truer word has been spoken here before. i have tried to teach myself how to decode these "cryptic" things by looking at the answers for the clues provided, and seldom can i clock how one was translated as the other.

another one then, with this nearly being almost or as good as 41 years old at the time of me hitting the publish button on this.

for some reason people assume (or presume) that theatre isn't all that big of a deal in australia. not for cultural concerns, but sheer geography. surely, you would reason, it is far to hot (scorchio) a place to put on formal attire to sit in a cramped, uncomfortable and stuffy theatre, pretending to understand what is going on in a play. not so, apparently.

indeed, the address is included again, should you wish to try and enter the competition. sorry, no idea what the prize was.

clues for the across aspects of this crossword then. mostly they appear to be them cryptic ones, so best of luck you you, and if you get more than one then that is probably more than me.

you see, for 27 across, i would go with "seconds", as that is a time measurement and, at least i think i am right in saying, also something they use for directions, and all that longitude and latitude business. which might be minutes now i think, or both. but neither seem to be long enough.

finally, then, following on from this sentence are those all important clues down, which should in theory allow you to complete this crossword. unless you, too, have a sore head by this stage, or have simply given up and found something better to do.

whilst that looks like a lot of cryptic clues, unless i am much mistaken 8 down appears to be rather more direct, some sort of quote of some description. one could probably get that off of an internet or a google thing.

right, well, i shall leave you to it. if, indeed you are having a go at these.





be fair dinkum to each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

préjudiciable à tous les niveaux

bonjour, mon amis

it is so that, once in a while, one is confronted with something from the past. rather, indeed, than the future, look you see. whereas it all (quite likely) felt perfectly normal at the time, when held by the prevailing (or ruling) standards of the day you cast a glance back, there can be a sense of discomfort.

such befell me not so long ago when i, for reasons that i cannot actually recall, needed to grab some random image for a sort of "profile" picture thing, which did not pan out anyway. as anyone else would in such ill-defined and unclear circumstances, i switched on the tele to see if there was something suitable for me to make use of.

and that was how, or when, i stumbled upon an episode of the celebrated, generally fondly remembered television show Robin's Nest. most would, of course, recall this 1970's classic for the fact that it featured the much admired actor known as "him what was the Irish builder out of Fawlty Towers", here cast as a one armed alcohol loving dishwasher. for some reason it has generally been if not accidentally forgotten then quite deliberately disregarded that Richard O'Sullivan was in it.

ostensibly it was that Richard O'Sullivan was the default "star" of Robin's Nest, with this and several shows from the era effectively being designed to showcase his vast talents. for those unaware of him, well. he was in many respects Britain's response to American domination of the sex symbol market in the 70s. America threw the likes of Burt Reynolds, Clint Eastwood and to an extent Paul Newman (or Robert Redford) at the world. it was determined that the best shot the UK had at getting a foothold in the market was via throwing Richard O'Sullivan at it.

this particular episode of Robin's Nest struck me as being quite controversial now, although the standards depicted were fairly common and agreed upon at the time. in it, Richard O'Sullivan, playing whatever his character was called (Robin, i think), had just returned from a holiday of sorts in France. a decision was made to portray this via having Richard O'Sullivan wear a beret, speak in a standard French accent and immediately try to sexually harass, indeed bum, the first man he encountered, which just show happened to be Tony Britton. mostly, the Britton character was having none of it, representing the staunch British values of the time, or the values which the ruling classes wished to set for the unwashed masses watching the show.

either planned or unexpectedly, this episode caused a dramatic fall in the level of working class tourists visiting France from the UK in the 70s. you have to see it all in context of the time, and not by today's standard. in this era, or period, predominantly it was so that the majority of the gentry were not so confident in their sexuality that they were prepared to risk visiting a country where their sexual identity might magically change as a consequence of setting foot in the place. which is a shame, as France is a lovely place.

as someone who has never spoken of the French with anything but all the respect and admiration they thoroughly deserve, of course i was momentarily disarmed by this. then i simply switched off the show, after watching most of it, and got on with my life.





être excellents les uns envers les autres!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

waka waka eh eh indeed

hey there


so this is it, then. today marks the 10th anniversary, look you see, of the first steps taken by the England football team along the path of disappointing the fans. it is indeed a path so frequently taken that the familiarity with which we all have of it hardly makes noting the anniversaries a particularly wise venture. but, as fate had it, i was there for this one.

yes, then. we (or i, you read) speak (actually i write not speak) of June 12 2010. this was the day, or for those who like specifics evening, on which England launched their campaign for glory, seeking to once again lift the World Cup which they had only ever done once before.

oh, how the optimism flowed. so what if we had setbacks, such as Ferdinand out and no Beckham? this was the "golden generation", with the likes of Gerrard, Lampard, Rooney and of course the great Terry out on the field. obviously they were better than anyone else in the world. our manager also happened to be the finest tactical brain what Italy had ever produced. the very easy group we found ourselves in meant that they might as well engrave England on the trophy before a ball was kicked.

except, of course, and mostly as usual, that was all patently complete bullsh!t. we had a team that it would be generous to describe as fractured, for that implies it would be possible to somehow put them together. for all sorts of reasons, most of which cannot be written of for fear of legal persecution, the players in the England squad had little interest in playing with each other and not too much interest in playing at all. if our manager actually did anything then it was to stress how important he felt it was to rather lose a match that you could not tediously draw 0-0, but mostly he just stood around, looking like a dorky middle management accountant in an ill-fitting suit that for some reason he believed made him stylish.

i am aware that some have spoken of this opening World Cup match for England, against the USA, as being "the best, greatest and most important" ever game of football. such talk is misguided, and foolish. anyone who ever feels they have been admonished or picked on for suggesting that they find the game of football to be dull and boring only has to wave a video of this match in their defence.

quite by chance one hears something that shall resonate with them forever. or at the very least ten years. the very best way i can describe this game of football for you is to more or less directly quote a chap, of a "London" accent, also at the game. as we were all leaving, somehow thankful that we survived in the match to hold on for a 1-1 draw against what turned out to be surprisingly vastly superior opponents (and to achieve that all they had to do was simply wish to actually play), he said "we have spent all this f*****g money to come all this f*****g way to watch this f*****g rubbish". not once, before or since, have i heard the personification of what it is to follow the England football team put so perfectly or eloquently.

as this was 2010 i think it is ok to say that the chap who said the above was a cockney. this was, and yes i state the obvious here, before now, so it was in the golden era before the dark days of Saidq Khan's reign of incompetence as Mayor of London. back then it was easy, for all Londoners were cockney. now, with Khan's dangerous ways of dividing the people and making them hate each other, one finds rampant racism, with arguments about over "proper cockney" and "not proper ones", which get called "estuary". may London one day, soon, again get a Mayor worthy of the people and the place.

how was it that the USA football team managed to comprehensively get the better of England? few saw it coming. that the USA manager looked, and acted, very much like a second rate Mick McCarthy tribute act (probably) tells you all you need to know of England's abject lack of morale and management. he (whatever his name was) worked out that if he fielded just four players in the team of eleven who actually wanted to play the game, then that would be at least one more than England had. and so this was done, and so the USA won 1-1, as far as they could.

was this the single biggest humiliation inflicted on England by the USA in football? no. it is not even close. that particular disgrace was in 1994. after somehow becoming the "star" of the tournament, presumably because of his wonky appearance, World Cup 94 "star player" Alexi Lalas refused to move to an English club, saying that the level of talent on offer there was beneath his. there's knowing that you are rubbish, there is being told that you are rubbish, and then there is saying that you aren't good enough for Alexi Lalas to grace your stage.

make no mistake, i thoroughly enjoyed the day and the night, and the next morning, out. we all did, really. yes, there i am with Dad, and indeed Richard enthusiasts, that is he there too. it was only the game of football itself which was the disappointing part of the adventure out.

it does indeed feel bad, wrong, and maybe even treacherous to speak ill of the England football team, even ten years on. but that is just because of how you are conditioned to think of them as great, and that it is they always get "cheated" out of victory. modern fans may be confused by this, as in fairness under Gareth Southgate and with players that actually just want to play, well, the England football team is quite respectable these days. but it was not always so.

a distinct school of thought is that it was not just England who were utter, appalling abject rubbish at this tournament. there is a school of thought which suggests, or teaches, that hardly any of the teams involved even wished to be there, let alone try and win it. let us not forget that eventual winners Spain attempted to get knocked out as soon as possible, losing their opening game against Switzerland. which was watched by the wonderful FIFA president of the time, Sepp "bellend" Blatter, who just happened to be Swiss.

not that England or Spain are alone in this. from what i remember of it Italy and France got knocked out in the group stage. whereas surrender is of course very much part of the French way, this early dismissal was surprising, as they went to extraordinary lengths to cheat their way to the final via an Henry handball incident. other fancied teams who could have easily won it - Germany, Argentina, Brazil and even Portugal - did little better.

yes, i think it was at around the point of the above picture being taken (and i think it was taken on my smart blueberry phone) that we considered that Dad might have had a bit too much sauce by this point of the day and night and following morning out. whilst i was under strict instruction to "go steady" with the ale i waas still quite merrily smashed, so can't recall it all. but, sometimes a picture tells it all, and Dad waving around a massive England flag and an equal USA flag speaks. i am pretty sure that shortly after this Richard did, or attempted to do, something i would rather not repeat here with the USA flag, as to recall it might spark a diplomatic incident.

fans, both at the games and at home around the world, were not always happy with it all, either. complaints rolled in about how cold it was, what with the tournament being played in the southern hemisphere winter. also, particularly for fans at home watching, crowds at the games were all apparently going out of their way to "spoil it" for everyone by making the wrong sort of noise. this is of course in reference to the vuvuzela instrument. yes it is a bloody annoying noise, but when you get all p!ssed up and have a go at one it feels like you are making a f*****g amazing sound, man.

this was probably the first instance where people became aware that playing in, watching or even going and winning the World Cup was all of a sudden not the biggest thing in football. a World Cup used to be special simply because once every four years we all got to see the very best of the exceptionally best (and England) play against each other. by 2010, the huge lure of money had taken just about every great player in the world to some European club or other, and so every single year in the form of the Champions League one got to see the very finest in the game play some of the greatest matches ever.

in an attempt to thwart such, of course FIFA just went ahead and insisted on more international fixtures every season. this compounded their problem. by making international matches all the more often or frequent, then a saturation point was reached and so an eventual tournament came to feel even less special. strange, what the appeal of money can do to your thinking.

overall, it would be fair to say that South Africa in 2010 and Brazil in 2014 will be remembered as the very last times there was any sort of honour or prestige in hosting the World Cup. now there is all sorts of fuss about how, exactly, it came to be that Russia hosted it in 2018 and Qatar shall (the invisible war on the plague pending) host it in 2022. i would say let them, and whoever, get on with it, just allow FIFA or similar to dump the tournament on any nation that takes their fancy. with persistent dwindling interest in who plays in it and who wins it, next comes a decline in the level of interest in watching.

do you know, i absolutely loved the day out to see England vs USA in 2010. yes, the team were a complete disgrace, but nothing else was. we had a great day out, the fans who had flown from far and wide to be there were amazing, and overall a fabulous time except for the 90 or so minutes when the actual match was being played. a particular highlight, away from the cheap beer and massive steaks being fried on the roadside, was some ginger nut biscuits obtained from a petrol station at about 3 in the morning. or 4.

bravo, indeed, to the chap pictured above that went to the match dressed as Captain America out of Super Heroes Adventure Space or whatever the films were called. i quite like to think he came over on the plane dressed like that, too. he was quite ecstatic about his beloved USA beating Britain 1-1. some of the England fans, rather disappointed to have lost 1-1 to America, sought to pick a fight with this bloke, but their attention was soon diverted to the much better offer of cheap beer and massive steaks outside the stadium.

well, anyway, that's that for yet another trip down memory lane on this blog. decimal anniversaries always seem to be the ones to celebrate. how and why this came to be i do not know for sure, i just go with the flow. anything for a quiet, normal life, really.




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

fake facebook mail

hello


just one of them "public access service" sort of posts when such things come my way, look you see. whilst not claiming to be an expert on internet safety or anything like that, i do believe it's important to share info when you see scams, in the hope of letting others know how to avoid them.

this time out it is an almost convincing email of the "phishing" (fishing pronunciation) variety, seeking to gain access to all of your facebook details. and probably your bank, and anything else you have. so, before we go on, please don't type in any addresses i reference here, and if you see a mail like this then delete it.

right, here we go, the mail.

some limited applause, as this looks sort of ok. importantly, the return email address uses a legit facebook domain. for a rare change, too, the grammar in the actual email - some nonsense about an identity check - is not complete garbage.

an immediate warning sign, however, is the incorrect font used for the name facebook, and how it is not properly flush or lined up with the logo icon thing. that bloke what owns the facebook thing takes brand value quite seriously, and as he will have made another US$1 billion or so by the time you have read this sentence, he kind of has enough money to make sure proper corporate branding is in place.

one other immediate warning sign was, of course, that this email came in to an email address i use for some things, but has never ever, not once, been linked to any facebook account. so it was known that it was immediate bullsh!t.

when you hover over the "Upload Now" button, where no doubt you will be taken to a fake but real looking facebook page, you can see the actual address it will take you to. and here it is.

even those what have even more of a less of a disregard for spelling than how i do will surely know that in no way is "nabrdr" a way of typing "facebook". so, yeah, it is a fake site behind that button.

who, or whom, or what owns this fake site? once again i went and had a look at the excellent internet resource who.is, and found quite a mystery.

how very strange that a supposed facebook security internet page web domain would be Russian registered, and indeed have the company details behind it "hidden" by an identity protect company. which is all the further conclusive information (or, if dramatic, proof) that is required to dismiss this as all fake.

my straight out fair dinkum advice to you is that if you ever get a mail from facebook, or anyone, urging you to login to "confirm" something, don't click on anything in the mail. rather go to your web browser (chrome, firefox, safari, internet explorer, etc) and type in the address yourself, or follow a link. make sure the address is displayed in the address bar, and that "padlock" thing is there next to it to show you are secure.

just try and keep safe out there online, people.




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

dual duo duel

hey there


it would, i should expect, be fair to say that there were many, many things of (or from) 1983 that are memorable. so many things, in fact, that it is almost understandable that one which was, if only in retrospect, look you see, quite remarkable often gets forgotten. this is of course the fact that not one, not quite three but two (2) James Bond films were given a cinematic release.

to get it out of the way, reluctantly yes, then, for those who quite like to be specific and always right, no this was strangely not a unique moment. one other year did indeed have the blessing of two Bond films, 1967. they were You Only Live Twice and Casino Royale. but, let us take a moment to be realistic here. yes, Bond films they were, but under no circumstances was that incarnation of Casino Royale made or meant as a "proper" Bond film, rather a comedy spoof thing existing solely to cash in.

so, at the risk of upsetting those who would argue for the above to "count", i would argue that 1983 was in fact the only time (so far) that two proper James Bond films got released, with them of course being Octopussy and Never Say Never Again.

much of the history of how and why this came to be has been written before. but, at the risk of sounding like a great song, it's about to be writ again.  in somewhat unusual circumstances, but yet also showing that "exclusive content" is hardly a new phenomenon, it was so that one person ended up owning the rights to one James Bond film and story, Thunderball, whereas all the others were retained by someone else. effectively, then, the rights owner to Thunderball was free to remake that film as often as they liked, but only that one. they also retained the rights to the concept of Bond uber villain Blofeld and the organisation Spectre, which was something of a blow to the owners of everything else James Bond. 

clearly, with a film called Spectre and featuring Blofeld now existing, this has all been resolved, maybe "at long last". but, the whole initial situation was, of course, not unique. in the modern era the best known similar example is how different film studios own the rights to some of them Marvel superheroes, with only common sense (and the promise of a lot of money) allowing films to be made what feature all the characters required for the story. easily the silliest at the moment is the fact that one person owns the rights to the character Hannibal Lecter, whereas someone else has managed to obtain exclusive rights to the character of Clarice Starling. go figure.

undoubtedly all of my expressions of thought on these two films shall be all over the place, or if you like non-linear. with the odd accidental non non-linear part, going on the pictures i have bravely uploaded. but, i believe, one or two of you quite like this approach, or are at the least used to it. thank you for reading, anyhow. but if you are for some reason just here to look at (or pinch) the pictures, well then, glad to help.

perhaps the most well known snippet of trivia (or information) about these two films is, or was, of how one forced the other to be the way it turned out. by this, i mean Never Say Never Again forced them what were making Octopussy to "rise to the challenge". in his wisdom, by this stage Sir Roger Moore was keenly ready to exit all things James Bond, arguing that he had surely taken the role as far as possible, and that the part was meant to be played by someone younger. at this stage, it was so that Timothy Dalton was already established as the likely long term replacement, but as the extras on the Octopussy disc show, there was some experimentation with casting decidedly American actor James Brolin in the part.

but, faced with going kind of head to head with a Bond film starring a returning Sean Connery, the producers, maybe wisely, felt that getting audiences to accept a new actor in the part might do damage to their cause. so Sir Roger was persuaded back.

my most distinct memory of the two films was seeing Never Say Never Again at the pictures. this always struck me as odd, as it was well known to us (we went on a family outing) that Dad was not particularly interested, or liked, Bond films. still, not for me to ask. what was the second distinct memory? probably that someone i knew had something called a "stereo" video machine (Beta, for clarification), and it was a tape of Octopussy that they used to show me how awesome it sounded with the machine hooked up to the stereo. it did indeed sound awesome.

did (or do) i have a particular inclination to like one of them more than the other? or do i consider that, on balance, one of them is superior to the other? well, no. that was a partial motivation behind watching both again. it is so that the main motivation was that William had expressed an interest in throwing knives, and has an ongoing wish to watch all of James Bond. i vaguely recalled that Octopussy featured some knife throwing twins, so off we went to watch it. and then i figured, well, why not have a look at Never Say Never Again whilst on the go.

there is, i think (or suspect) a tendency to remember both Octopussy and Never Say Never Again for some of their more ridiculous moments. ones which, even if allowing for the standard suspension of disbelief when watching fiction, stretches things a bit. fear not, it is quite impossible, and morally wrong, to overlook those aspects, and they shall feature below. but first, the not quite so silly.

with that in mind, well, from here on out i suppose i should make it perfectly clear that a *** SPOILER WARNING *** is in place. i am not convinced that such is necessary, but i am confident that it is most fair and right to issue such warnings for you, the reader. whilst who wins at the end of a Bond film is hardly much of a surprise, the fun is after all in the journey to the conclusion.

staring with Octopussy, and i was struck by just how much of this 1983 plot would be very relevant to a 2000's film (or novel) storyline. the basics busy themselves with Russians using London, auction houses and art in particular, for money laundering, smuggling across Europe, and a "terrorist" attack on the perceived to be weakened West, designed to look like an internal accident. as a bonus for the latter, the primary antagonist in the bombing is quite prepared, content and even happy to die to make sure it happens, believing his martyrdom will make him a hero. for good measure it even, by accident, hints at how major an economic concern India is likely to be.

yes, indeed, a tremendous amount of fluff (and nonsense) gets layered over those core plot points, but this doesn't take away from the validity of it all. if someone "borrowed" the Octopussy story outlined above they might get away with passing off their work as being very much on the finger of the pulse of today. perhaps someone already has, and i have not read or seen it yet.

of course it is so that the plot of Never Say Never Again is in fact the plot of Thunderball, as it was legally obliged to be. in essence, the naughty club that is Spectre has stolen two nuclear bombs and is holding the world to ransom with them. the fun, of course, is in how they get there, and how James Bond stops them.

in an elaborate move, Spectre kidnap the sister of a US serviceman, forcing him to have his eye changed for a replica of that of the US President, so he may reprogram a missile demonstration and have the missiles land where Spectre want them. absurd, to be sure, but the way they did it was not. in 1983 retina scan security, and the idea of "hacking" hardware, was very much science fiction. many would also have poured scorn on the idea that we, as a species, would ever be so silly as to trust a machine to provide all the security required with no human intervention.

enough of the praise for the predictive elements of each film, then. instead, time to celebrate their glorious dabbling with sex and danger, for that is why one would see a James Bond film. at least that used to be why, i don't think they make them like that any more and i am pretty sure that you are not allowed to say that is what you are interested in. and i am confident that i know which you would like to peep at first.

a truth universally accepted is that any James Bond film, except one, possibly two, but i name them not for fear of spoilers, we get to watch Bond save the day, and the scoundrel baddies get their comeuppance. this is down to the deft skills, training, ability and knowledge of the character. equally true of the Bond character (and maybe this is where he gets his special powers from) is that he is unequivocally the best ever at doing that sort of thing, and such must be showcased at all possible opportunities. in certain films, more than anything else.

such a film would be Never Say Never Again. unfortunately, i am not privvy to the details of how and why Sean Connery was tempted back into a role he left some ten (or so) years before making this. there are, however, some clues in the film itself. whilst stopping short of taking a stopwatch and a tape measure to the matter, i got a sense that the film featured, minute for minute, more of Bond involved in that sort of thing (doing a sex) than the job which his character was, ostensibly, supposed to be doing.

of the seven or eight (actually i think nine) different (all lady) that sort of thing partners what Bond forms a short term friendship with in the film, i believe my favourite is Barbara Carrera. here she portrays a character called 'Fat Bush' or similar, which would be standard James Bond naming. most will, no doubt, rather fondly recall her from the somewhat bezerk role she had in Dallas when Dallas went "a little" off course. also Lone Wolf McQuade.

from what i could work out, other than being pivotal to the steal the missiles plot, Barbara Carrera's character is tasked with the elimination of James Bond. with no clear reason given for deviating from this, she instead decides to dabble with him a bit, engaging in a prolonged, seabound bout of that sort of thing. this leads to her being quite enchanted by him (again, a common James Bond film occurrence), but she still intends to kill him. only after he has written a declaration that she, and only she, is the bestest greatest ever what he has done that sort of thing with. a lovely narrative device, for this allows Bond to (i have already issued a spoiler warning) take out his specially modified pen and blow her to many pieces with a missile what it fires out.

the approach of Sir Roger was somewhat similar, somewhat different. whereas Sean Connery's Bond was always eager to explore any and all opportunities for that sort of thing, it would be fair to describe Sir Roger as more refined, thoroughly enjoying such but really only wanting to engage in it if it was absolutely vital to his "for Queen and Country" mandate. or if the mission had finished, or indeed if he happened (as was the case so memorably once) he just happened to find himself in space, with absolutely nothing else better to do.

in truth there was so much else going on in Octopussy that i, or one, hardly notices the that sort of thing scenes. possibly because there are not so many as there are in Never Say Never Again, or maybe due to them being handled in a more sensitive, restrained and sensitive to the plot way. the only one which comes, so to speak, to mind, is that one with the character of Octopussy herself, played by Maud Adams, who at the time was celebrated for having the distinction of being a Bond "girl" twice by featuring here.

even then, this romantic interlude was one of absolute vital importance to the plot, or if you like the story. it turns out that Bond had previously allowed the father of Octopussy an "honourable" way out of capture (kill himself), and so she felt a requirement to express her gratitude and appreciation for such. also, Sir Roger does that thing with his one eyebrow, which no lady can resist.

regrettably, this beautifully staged and impeccably choreographed love scene is interrupted when some maniac, with a "buzz saw" attached to a yo-yo string, attempts to decapitate both of them when engaged in the act of love. for some reason they made a kids toy of this "buzz saw", and i remember that they had it on sale at the newspaper shop at Marton Shops (near the video shop in the petrol station) but i was never allowed to buy it.

more of the more ridiculous stuff, you ask? sure, why not. the above collage of images took me quite a while to make, so i hope it has come out all right, and that you like it. for me, this sequence, perhaps best described as "the India escape", is one of the more ridiculous moments ever in a James Bond film. for which it has some considerable competition for such inclusion.

above, then, you can see a gang of armed people in India (some of them on elephants), looking for James Bond with a view to a kill being done on him. to escape, to guide you through the images, first he pretends to be dead. and then he battles spiders, and has to tame a tiger, then hide under an elephant whilst a snake crawls over him. off he goes to do a Tarzan swing, resplendent with sound affect, and burn some leeches off his chest (good job he had a lighter on him), before outswimming a crocodile and joining some American tourists.

yes, indeed, when people think of the Sir Roger Moore James Bond films being "a bit silly, at least in places", i am pretty sure that the above is one of the exhibits. but, still, splendid fun to watch once in a while.

the above image is indeed a throwback to the conversation we were just having a moment ago, which was concerned with the preoccupation Never Say Never Again has with emphasizing (and illustrating) just how good James Bond is at that sort of thing, or doing a sex.

it certainly is Kim Basigner you can see there, here playing the sister of that US serviceman mentioned earlier. specifically here, she is subject to Sean Connery pretending to be a masseuse (or whatever they are called) so that he may see her doing nudies, and also if he got information from her then that would be a plus.

just as it is incorrect to say that Never Say Never Again was Ms Basinger's debut, it would be wrong to say anything other than this was the film where she first garnered a worldwide audience, or maybe better to say that she came to be better known off of this film. in the grand scheme of things, it is all too rare that 'Bond Girls' go on to bigger and better things, but she did.

no, actually yes, that is who you think it is above. each of the competing Bond films looked for any edge they could in the "fight", not being certain that just Sir Roger or Sean would be the draw. to this end, both have "celebrity" or well known actors in the film. for Octopussy, the bold approach was to cast Vijay Amritraj, India's best, greatest and most important tennis player.

at the time of seeing the film i had no idea of his stature, but when i did find out that he has a scene where he twats someone with a tennis racquet (racket?) all of a sudden made sense. he was just really good in his "bit part", and it was a genuine shame when he came to a very nasty end. sorry, i have no idea if they cast him because some of the film was in India, or if they decided to set some of it in India because they had managed to get him to sign on.

for Never Say Never Again, they perhaps spent most of the budget on persuading Sean Connery to do the film to lavish the cast with all that many celebrities. but, they got some good ones in. a young(ish) Rowan Atkinson features, and no less an actor than Max Von Sydow plays Blofeld. but, never mind that, this is probably the best casting for UK audience awareness in 1983.

indeed, that is Pat Roach, better known as Bomber out of Auf Wiedersehen, Pet, which was extremely popular when this film got released. not that the makers of the film could have known this when casting or filming, i suppose. they probably went with him as he is rather mean and menacing looking, and was really, really good at getting his head kicked in (or rather mangled) off if Indiana Jones in Raiders Of The Lost Ark.

whilst i would not claim to have seen all of the films what Pat Roach has made (if i have done so, it is purely accidental or incidental that i have), i cannot recall any of his cinematic adventures featuring him being anything but a silent baddie and getting his head kicked in. this is somewhat peculiar, because he looks like he would totes knack most people. for starters, i would expect him to totally smash my face in within seconds of any bout i was foolish to engage him in. but then, i suppose i am no James Bond, and have not ever even been shortlisted for the role.

one thing generally associated with James Bond films would be fancy cars, and set pieces involving some smart, albeit dangerous, driving. as point of fact, to date only one film in the whole "expanded universe" of Bond has failed to feature the ostensible protagonist (or if you like titular character) driving a car as such, the hollowed out volcano masterpiece that is You Only Live Twice.

both Octopussy and Never Say Never Again (if for some reason by this stage you had forgotten which two Bond films released in 1983 this is all about) feature some fancy stuff with cars and that. it is, however, arguably the transport related scenes in the films which is the more interesting, and more memorable.

yes, the above are both images off of Octopussy. further, both show Sir Roger ('s stunt double) battling with the legendary Kabir Bendi in unusual places. well, not unusual in themselves i suppose, just that they are not locations you would associate with an idea or suitable place to have a bit of a punch up.

going on memory alone, i seem to recall that the "classic" era of Sean Connery James Bond films featured, at times, Bond having fights in a train and in a plane, although in different films. presumably seeking to make absolutely sure that the ante was decidedly upped, someone somewhere made the decision that Sir Roger should be seen to go several more than one better by having a fight on both of these forms of transport, and in the same film. i quite like to think that Christopher Nolan is a big, big fan of Octopussy, and saw the fight on a plane as a blueprint for that opening bit of The Dark Knight Rises.

the most memorable transportation motivated scene in Never Say Never Again is or was probably that smart motorbike chase thing Bond does, which ended with Barbara Carrera getting blown up with a missile off of a pen (see above). a personal favourite, though, would be that bit where James Bond opts to rescue Kim Basinger from being auctioned off, making their escape by jumping a horse off of a castle what is on a massive cliff, into the sea.

how good were what we now know as "cgi" effects in 1983? not great, in truth, but we knew no better would ever come, and as an audience accepted that it was the best they could do to tell the story. as the alternate would have been to jump a horse off of a castle on a cliff for real, which no doubt would have led to the death of a horse and a maximum of two stunt people (or none, if they just strapped a couple of dummies or mannequins to the horse), most just accepted the below and let the film move on.

i say "most", for someone somewhere will have been sufficiently motivated to write to the producers of the film, saying that this moment spoiled it for them, they should have done it for real, arguing there was no shortage of horses or stunt people in the world. no, i did not write any such letter myself, and nor would i, as that would be silly.

since we are on silly moments, i have little doubt that some of the Octopussy enthusiasts out there will want a reference to that scene. well, not a reference, but a picture. yes, that moment when James Bond, resplendent in full tilt clown gear, diffuses a nuclear bomb. a moment which impresses some senior ranking US military types, who were just as impressed by a sleight of hand trick off of a pickpocket conjurer moments earlier.

which of the two Bond films was the winner? for audiences over the last few decades i would say both are just great. but, the movie making business is a business, and the amount of money made dictates victory. in those terms (or on this basis), with respect to declared figures, Octopussy cost somewhere south of US$10 million to make than Never Say Never Again, and at the box office went on to make somewhere north of US$10 million more. so, Octopussy was the financial winner, and it meant that we got no further remakes of Thunderball.

the consequences of the victory were, alas, some short term thinking. keen to continue on all the elements which made Octopussy a box office triumph, Sir Roger was once again persuaded to take up playing Bond once more for A View To A Kill. this despite being in his own and everyone else's view too old for the role, and having no interest in doing it. which has always kind of tarnished the really good film that A View To A Kill is, what with it having an awesome theme.

had Never Say Never Again done a bit better finance, then who knows. maybe the makers of the proper, so to speak, James Bond films would have made a change that would have improved fortunes for A View To A Kill. once again it was so that Timothy Dalton was in the frame. so, too, was a soft spoken, right proper big girls' blouse nancy boy called Pierce Brosnan, purely as he looked good in a tuxedo in some silly television show. either of them being brought in during 1985 might have led to all and sundry not being distracted by the actor's age when considering the film.

yes, that is Sir Roger having a false moustache applied for the celebrated opening bit of Octopussy, where he has to impersonate someone or other called Toro to stop someone or other doing something or other. all i can really recall is the little plane coming out of the back end of a horse.

in the long term, Never Say Never Again has proven to be the most influential on James Bond as experienced now, with Daniel Craig in the role. the shape, structure and content of his films owe a great deal to this one. quite often in the film we are pitched the idea that Bond an his ways are outdated, he is a relic and a dinosaur. also, M (and all of MI6 or whatever) are preoccupied with administration and bureaucracy rather than important field work. further, the dangers of reliance on technology what can be hacked. this is the basis of at least two, arguably three, of the Daniel Craig James Bond films.

there is to be no grand, sweeping conclusion off of me as to which of these two was the "best", as such, for i thoroughly enjoyed watching both again. it is so that the only real, true low point of either film is the theme song, with both opting to have some really crappy 80's "power ballad" thing. yes, that would be expected for films out in 1983, but it does not mean aged either well.

with the latest James Bond film, No Time To Die delayed as a consequence of the invisible war on the plague, i guess it shall be so that i might well revisit one or two of the existing films from the "expanded universe". for some reason i have a wish to watch The Living Daylights again, which is strange as it is very dull and boring. i suspect that my wish to see it again is subliminally driven, what with Radio 2 having a peculiar fixation on the theme song.

most happy a time it is if any (or optimistically most if not all) of this has been of some passing interest to any of you out there. at the very least, perhaps i managed to include a decent picture or two for your viewing pleasure.




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

sing your life

hey there


should my memory hold out, and it is not normally so bad with this sort of thing (please note not that sort of thing, thank you), today, the date this is published, would or could have been an anniversary. had i remained where i was, at verk where i was, then today is the day that my service would have reached the milestone of 21 years, look you see. or 21st anniversary, to be sure.

there is a danger of getting caught up a bit too much in what might have been. recalling and reminiscing is not so harmful in itself, but i would imagine you're better off having more eyes on where you are, not are not. as ever, it is to Mani we can turn to best understand this. journalists kept a calendar on a specific matter, and when a set period of time fell they simply could not wait to ask him about how (relevant to the times) he felt of now being in Primal Scream longer than he was in The Stone Roses. his answer was "exactly the same as i feel about being in Primal Scream longer than i was in The Beatles". or something along those lines.

but, this isn't really about me, or my verk, or Mani. well, yes it is, if you take the latter a bit extended and use Mani as the definition or personification of referencing music. let me try and get to the point, if there is one. i was, during my time of isolated quarantine during the invisible war on the plague, sorting through some discs. this led to me finding this disc.

should it look like a compact disc which for some reason bears the name of where it was that i called verk, but specifically dated some 12 - 24 months prior to my arrival there, well, the reason for that is that it is. as it happens, or i shall have you know, it was no less than Spiros, the greatest legal mind of his (or any) generation, who gifted me this disc several years ago. when i found it and asked him just, what, exactly, the f*** i should do with it, he suggested that it needed to get to "the biggest audience i could possibly manage". and so here we are.

you may have worked out (or know, if you have done a google thing) that this Nedcor disc is called, or better defined as subtitled, Going For Gold. that was, maybe still is, the name for the awards ceremony they have for verk staff once a year (give or take), to award outstanding service. yes, surprisingly, i did win one or two in my time.

with that said (or written or typed), i do not recall any specially composed music at any of the award ceremonies i attended. no, i do not recall much, for alcohol flowed freely at the events. i am pretty sure i can remember an incident with a bottle of something rather potent and a funnel, and also a pair of Austin Powers branded boxer shorts i had on. although not at the same time. maybe.

anyway, from track one of the CD, here is the Nedcor Legends song, as it is titled on the disc. please, press play, sit back, enjoy, and remember how if it's too loud you are too old.

i suspect that no one will be asking, but if you are asking what i think of it, well, mostly that it is. obviously not the greatest song i have ever heard, but also not exactly the worst, since i could not detect the sounds of Sammy Hagar or that Mr Kim Kardassian (or whatever) on it. no, that isn't the music i would generally seek out for myself, but if someone sat me down, gave me a nice dinner, some ale and a certificate, then yes, i guess i could listen to it grumble free. mostly grumble free.

quite a few people (or at least one or two) seem to get terribly upset when musicians, and indeed other artists, do "things", such as perform their art, in a way that is overtly for money. the general accusation is that they are "selling out". it has never made all that much sense to me, in truth. all need to get the coins to live, such is the way the world is by our design. good luck to anyone who gets a gig like this, and everyone else should just dig what they dig.


could i be at all persuaded to present here a picture of me (moi), with Spiros, involved in some heavy duty intense corporate banking stuff? yes, indeed. however, if you have asked like that, you may well be in for a disappointment, as such is hardly all that much of a visually stunning thing.

my best guess, going on the locale and the tinsel, would be that this image is just north of 20 years ago, but also south of 21. also, though, i may be a year out, and it is not like it isn't a perfectly natural thing for Spiros to beautify his surroundings with glittery stuff and similar.

what was my time in the realm of corporate banking like? interesting. there is probably enough for me to bore you for hours with, but i shall not. anyway, i am almost certain that one or two adventures, or episodes, will be in the archives of this blog.

that said, no, not much (well) was like that Wolf Of Wall Street thing; at least not at the level on which i was at. or maybe it was, and i just didn't pay attention. also, you go in all naive and innocent, with somewhat idealistic views such as "well, why would someone sign for something that they were not supposed to" and "i doubt anyone would spend money that they knew they did not have", but these are soon chased from your mind. experience is quick and, well, interesting in such matters, and then some.

indeed, that is the second specifically composed song on the disc, presumably the official Nedcor Going For Gold anthem. for those who are for some reason interested, the tracks in-between seem to be "melody" or "mega mix" things from specific decades. so, presumably those what were at this award event got a really good show.

for some reason i have, thus far in my travels through life, had the incredible ability to join various industries just as the financially halcyon days are drawing to a close. by the time i join a sector it seems that they are no longer flush with cash to squander on extravagant ideas like putting on a full blown (tilt) theatrical musical production for entertainment at an awards function. usually, though, i got on just fine with the hand dealt. especially when it had a budget that stretched to a bottle of something (anything) splendid and a funnel.

not so Spiros, of course. he moved on to ever higher echelons of power in the corporate sector, which makes sense for the greatest legal mind of his generation to do. invariably he gets an invitation to a ceremony to celebrate him and his achievements two or three times a month, with entertainment provided in a by no means cheap way from the likes of Sir Elton, and other "corporate gig friendly" types of performers.

on one instance, i think, there was the time that he, Spiros, was doing something or other with the Soviets, or whatever they are called now. to show their appreciation for his efforts, an award ceremony was held, at which several prominent, multi-millionaire professional footballers were ordered to do a little dance for his pleasure. because, well, why would you not if you could.

my views on that second song above, since i forgot to mention it earlier, and if you are asking, are pretty much similar, or the same, as the first one. due to how an internet works, in particular if one uses one of them "google" things instead of some alphabetical directory, there is every chance that someone who was actually at the event, or gig, where these songs got played has found this post. if so, nice one, and may all the memories be good.

undoubtedly, yet equally, there shall of course be some Spiros enthusiasts looking at this, hoping for a rather more homogeneous, or erogenous, picture of him. with me in it, of course, but indeed that would be secondary. well, here you go.

a compass can only point to a finite number of directions, and there would be absolutely none of them that gives any guidance to any direction where i could go with the rest of this post after that image. so, i shall mostly remain silent, allowing you all the time you like to reflect on it all.




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