I’ve had BT Vision for 10 days now – and it has worked more than it hasn’t, which I’m reliably informed is probably as good as it gets with BT Vision.
I have managed, via its on-demand service, to watch the entire series three of Heroes, with which I have become obsessed.
So obsessed in fact that every day when I come into work my young colleague Lee – remember him? The son I never wanted? – asks me where I’m up to. He saw the series when it was broadcast on BBC2 and is, therefore, familiar with the story.
We were having a discussion during lunch the other day about super-powers and I – completely lost in the world of fiction – claimed I felt I had a super-power.
“I realised last night,” I said, in an earnest tone which might well have sent him scurrying for the exit calling for men in white coats, “that my super-power is the ability to eat lots without actually suffering a heart attack.”
“That’s not really a super-power,” countered Lee, shaking his head contemptuously, “it just means you’re a fat bastard with a death wish.”
“But just look at it. It COULD be a super-power…” I insisted optimistically.
“How would it be useful? It’s hardly likely to help you save the world. If anything it’s going to necessitate a whole new wardrobe. You’re no Hero; just a greedy, idle git…”
In print this may seem quite harsh. True, but harsh. In fact the whole conversation was carried out in an atmosphere of jocularity, as are many of our discussions. In the past we have discussed such obscure subjects as the potential outcome of a fight between a badger with a flick-knife and a fox with a sub-machine gun.
We hardly rank alongside the great philosophers, but our stream-of-consciousness conversations have passed many a slow hour on the road to an exhibition or other, or a lunchtime when our planned walk around the nearby heath (yeah right!) has been rained off.
What’s more, this time something really positive came out of the discussion. Having realised that I would not give up until I became acknowledged as a genuine super-hero, my young sidekick suggested a name - having dismissed my attempt of Pieman as too obvious. He came up with 'Calorifo'.
At this point I realised my other super-power was to laugh so much I can almost wet myself…
Showing posts with label bbc. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bbc. Show all posts
Friday, March 04, 2011
Friday, December 10, 2010
Selling out is no laughing matter
When I was a teenager I had a couple of mates who were ‘music snobs’.
They knew a lot about the indie scene and would eulogise about bands of which the rest of us had never heard.
Then, when they’d made it big and we had heard of them my mates would drop them like a copy of the Daily Mail from the hands of a socialist.
“They’ve sold out,” they always said. I always had mixed views on that stance. On the one hand I admired them for liking the music in its raw state before producers got hold of it; while on the other I thought the band members wouldn’t lose too much sleep over it now they were raking in the royalties.
I now know – in a strange way – what my mates were going through. I’ve realised I’ve become a ‘comedy snob’.
Down the years I’ve seen and heard many up-and-coming stand-ups at small clubs and pubs or on obscure radio shows; some were never seen again. Others impressed me so much I would follow them to further smaller venues and delight in their burgeoning reputation.
Yet last night, as three such comedians – Miranda Hart, Marcus Brigstocke and Paul Merton – came together on Have I Got News For You, I felt a tinge of envy that others could now share in the joy they had brought me.
There had been some kudos in knowing that, how ever many years ago it was, if I had said their names to my nearest and dearest they would have shrugged and said “never ‘eard of ‘em”. I suppose there’s an element of one-upmanship involved.
But, with the advantage of maturity – and the knowledge that I could do bugger all about it – the envy passed quickly and I realised that who am I to even subconsciously deny anybody else the joy these people can bring into our lives.
There have been others whose name I noted when they were on the bottom rung of the comedy ladder – but I’m now glad to say they’ve made it big and are delighting millions of people through radio, comedy and DVDs (yes, they’ve ‘sold out!’).
People like Mark Watson, Frank Skinner, Punt & Dennis, Jim Tavare, Patrick Kielty, Milton Jones, John Oliver and Rufus Hound, all had an immediate effect on me when I first heard them. And yes, I’m glad they’ve made it to the top of the tree.
And I hope that the likes of Tony Cowards and Patrick Monahan are soon just as well known. It’ll be great to be able to tell people that I think they’ve ‘sold out’…
They knew a lot about the indie scene and would eulogise about bands of which the rest of us had never heard.
Then, when they’d made it big and we had heard of them my mates would drop them like a copy of the Daily Mail from the hands of a socialist.
“They’ve sold out,” they always said. I always had mixed views on that stance. On the one hand I admired them for liking the music in its raw state before producers got hold of it; while on the other I thought the band members wouldn’t lose too much sleep over it now they were raking in the royalties.
I now know – in a strange way – what my mates were going through. I’ve realised I’ve become a ‘comedy snob’.
Down the years I’ve seen and heard many up-and-coming stand-ups at small clubs and pubs or on obscure radio shows; some were never seen again. Others impressed me so much I would follow them to further smaller venues and delight in their burgeoning reputation.
Yet last night, as three such comedians – Miranda Hart, Marcus Brigstocke and Paul Merton – came together on Have I Got News For You, I felt a tinge of envy that others could now share in the joy they had brought me.
There had been some kudos in knowing that, how ever many years ago it was, if I had said their names to my nearest and dearest they would have shrugged and said “never ‘eard of ‘em”. I suppose there’s an element of one-upmanship involved.
But, with the advantage of maturity – and the knowledge that I could do bugger all about it – the envy passed quickly and I realised that who am I to even subconsciously deny anybody else the joy these people can bring into our lives.
There have been others whose name I noted when they were on the bottom rung of the comedy ladder – but I’m now glad to say they’ve made it big and are delighting millions of people through radio, comedy and DVDs (yes, they’ve ‘sold out!’).
People like Mark Watson, Frank Skinner, Punt & Dennis, Jim Tavare, Patrick Kielty, Milton Jones, John Oliver and Rufus Hound, all had an immediate effect on me when I first heard them. And yes, I’m glad they’ve made it to the top of the tree.
And I hope that the likes of Tony Cowards and Patrick Monahan are soon just as well known. It’ll be great to be able to tell people that I think they’ve ‘sold out’…
Monday, December 06, 2010
Comedy's breath of fresh air
Miranda Hart - such fun!
If you know me well – and I can only assume you must do if you’re prepared to read this tripe – then you will know I love my comedy.
Whether it’s the slapstick antics of Laurel and Hardy, the unforgettable vintage radio half-hours of Hancock, The Goons and Round the Horne, the stand-up of Max Miller or Mark Watson, or the TV comedy from Dad’s Army through to Scrubs, I have a passion for the stuff that makes us laugh.
So last night it was with childish glee that my beloved and I queued up in freezing temperatures outside BBC TV Centre in Wood Lane, to be members of the audience for the Christmas episode of the wonderful Miranda.
Wonderful? Yes, wonderful. It might not be the critics’ favourite but that’s because it’s a throwback to more gentle times. The eponymous Ms Hart is a breath of fresh air in the current comedic climate.
Unpretentious, self-deprecating and a master – or should that be mistress? – of the slapstick turn, she exudes a feel-good factor which evidently rubs off on fellow cast members who appear to enjoy making the show as much as we enjoy watching it.
No bad language, few sexual references, just a rich panoply of embarrassing scenarios, misfortunes and neuroses to which many of us – male or female – can relate.
It is what I call very funny. Such fun…
■ If you’ve yet to discover the joy of Miranda, watch BBC2 8.30pm today. You won’t regret it. Oh, and she's from Petersfield. Hurrah!
■ Check out a recent interview with Miranda Hart here.
Tuesday, March 02, 2010
BBC report - could do better apparently
Mark Thompson's admission that the BBC will close various parts of the organisation to concentrate on doing "fewer things better" has been met with pleasure and pain - at least in my head.
The thought that the Beeb could start making some decent programmes again while dumping all the tedious reality TV effluent, brought a smile to my face.
I was, however, disappointed to learn that BBC6 radio is under threat. I don't listen to it very often but when I do I find it far superior to the vacuous nonsense churned out by Radio1. And I would imagine a lot of people will feel similarly disposed to the BBC Asian Network. I've always been partial to a bit of bhangra meself...
I'm just glad that the excellent BBC7 has apparently escaped the cull. But as much of its programming is repeats of classic radio series I would imagine it's quite cheap to produce. The ideal radio station one would imagine.
Perhaps BBC3 TV should be turned over solely to re-runs of classic comedies and dramas, providing a popular yet cost-effective channel. It'd be great to see things like Colditz, Secret Army, The Brothers, and Are You Being Served etc again.
The thought that the Beeb could start making some decent programmes again while dumping all the tedious reality TV effluent, brought a smile to my face.
I was, however, disappointed to learn that BBC6 radio is under threat. I don't listen to it very often but when I do I find it far superior to the vacuous nonsense churned out by Radio1. And I would imagine a lot of people will feel similarly disposed to the BBC Asian Network. I've always been partial to a bit of bhangra meself...
I'm just glad that the excellent BBC7 has apparently escaped the cull. But as much of its programming is repeats of classic radio series I would imagine it's quite cheap to produce. The ideal radio station one would imagine.
Perhaps BBC3 TV should be turned over solely to re-runs of classic comedies and dramas, providing a popular yet cost-effective channel. It'd be great to see things like Colditz, Secret Army, The Brothers, and Are You Being Served etc again.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
"Sum up the game for us Jon..."
If you read my ramblings last week about my one-man campaign to correct the misuse of the English language by the nation’s football commentators – or even if you didn’t – you will be interested to note that I’m also now taking issue with their numeracy.
Jon Roder, commentating on Reading v Ipswich for the BBC’s Football League Show, made the point that as Reading had scored only two goals at home all season, Simon Church’s equaliser for the Royals had increased their home goals’ total by 33 per cent.
Given they had only scored two goals before it should surely have occurred to him that any increase in goals scored, by the very nature of football, was never going to be less than 50 per cent.
On the plus side he didn’t insist that the ball was prodded in from “distance”.
Jon Roder, commentating on Reading v Ipswich for the BBC’s Football League Show, made the point that as Reading had scored only two goals at home all season, Simon Church’s equaliser for the Royals had increased their home goals’ total by 33 per cent.
Given they had only scored two goals before it should surely have occurred to him that any increase in goals scored, by the very nature of football, was never going to be less than 50 per cent.
On the plus side he didn’t insist that the ball was prodded in from “distance”.
Friday, November 06, 2009
Hello, my name's Jules and this is my friend Sandy...
"'Ere, Mister 'Orne..."
I’m a big fan of BBC Radio 7, the DAB station which outputs a load of vintage radio comedy shows.
I’m also keen on the 6.30pm comedy slot on BBC Radio 4, but in recent weeks the contrast between the two has been palpable.
Take Tuesday’s Radio 4 output – Too Much Information – and the 8am slot this morning on Radio 7, Round the Horne.
The latter episode was 42 years old and still makes me chortle; the former, which claims to be a comedy based in a tourist information office, simply made me shake my head in disbelief. I’ve heard funnier news bulletins.
What is it that commissioning editors look for currently in new shows? One would hope it was humour, but that clearly is no longer a pre-requisite.
Shows of the quality of Round the Horne would, quite simply, never be given the go-ahead in the BBC of the 21st century. It’s far too concerned with being politically correct, and inoffensive – the BBC’s ‘fun police’ are the broadcasting equivalent of the health and safety executive.
Round the Horne is too near the knuckle; too dangerous; too camp; just too damned funny.
Take this morning’s episode. Kenneth Horne is a special agent and catches Robin Day trying to climb the BBC’s equivalent of the Berlin Wall.
“I’m trying to defect over the wall,” explains Bill Pertwee as Day.
“Well,” says Horne, slowly,, in that wonderful deep brown voice, “it’s a clever trick if you can do it.”
It requires the art of innuendo – and it is an art in its highest form – and, in the listener, a decent command of the English language.
Perhaps that’s the answer. The general population is no longer able to appreciate clever or subtle humour so we get programmes devoid of any form of it.
Too many of today’s shows pander to the lowest common denominator. And I’m not saying that because I’m in my 40s. I can see why the younger generation would like things like We Are Klang. I’ve laughed at it myself, despite the fact it’s not aimed at the likes of me.
But the BBC wouldn’t let Round the Horne through these days for myriad reasons, not least for fear sketches like Jules and Sandy might offend homosexuals or that minors might be corrupted by the cordwanglings of Rambling Syd Rumpo.
Rambing Syd was completely inoffensive; it’s only in the mind of the listener that it becomes suggestive. A classic example of the British love of innuendo.
And as for Jules and Sandy, Kenneth Williams was as camp as a row of tents in real life and if he had no problems playing the part why should people be offended by hearing it?
Indeed one of the biggest Round the Horne fans I know is a gay woman. She loves it. And she’s quite keen on Round the Horne… did you see what I did there?
The gist of what I’m trying to say is that anybody out there with a modicum of comedic writing skill should be haranguing the BBC with anything they’ve penned. And anybody with an interest in enjoying comedy should be haranguing the BBC to commission some decent stuff without running it past the fun police first.
It's shocking to think that had the current climate been prevailing 30, 40 and 50 years ago we would never have had Round the Horne, Are You Being Served, It Ain't 'Alf Hot Mum, Til Death Us Do Part, The Goon Show, Monty Python's Flying Circus and many other great comedy shows.
It doesn't bear thinking about.
*And if you’re really interested in following my advice, the controller of BBC comedy commissioning is Cheryl Taylor (http://www.bbc.co.uk/commissioning/tv/network/genres/comedy.shtml)
Thursday, November 05, 2009
Grammar pedantry part 432
I've always looked at the BBC as the last bastion of the English language.
But I've now decided the British Broadcasting Corporation is just as poor as everywhere else in retaining a semblance of correct usage. Eric Partridge must be turning in his grave.
The past few days have really been the final straw for me.
Radio 4's Today programme has fallen into the trap of scripting its newsreaders to say "try and" instead of the invariably correct "try to...". And they persist in using "due to" instead of "owing to" or "because of" when not modifying a noun.
Football commentators appear to be a breed apart when it comes to bastardising the English language. In the past few days alone I have heard them say "he shot from range" and "he shot from distance". No shit Sherlock.
Every shot is from range or distance; what actually needs to be determined is whether it's short range or from long distance. Even better why not try informing us of an estimate of the distance in, say, yards ... that seems as good a measurement as anything else.
And to top it off, when Robin van Persie skewed his shot wide of the post in Saturday's clash with Spurs, the commentator pointed out that the Dutch striker had missed by "...a margin". Sorry but I thought that was, in sporting parlance, a 'given'.
Of course he missed by a margin - and it's your role to tell us just how much of a margin it was.
This footie-speak is becoming anathema to me now and will soon result in something being hurled at the tv in the same way I previously launched a keyboard at the radio during my days on the sportsdesk one Saturday, when, for the umpteenth time that season, the local radio commentator claimed the ball had gone "straight into the goalkeeper's midrift".
Heaven help us...
But I've now decided the British Broadcasting Corporation is just as poor as everywhere else in retaining a semblance of correct usage. Eric Partridge must be turning in his grave.
The past few days have really been the final straw for me.
Radio 4's Today programme has fallen into the trap of scripting its newsreaders to say "try and" instead of the invariably correct "try to...". And they persist in using "due to" instead of "owing to" or "because of" when not modifying a noun.
Football commentators appear to be a breed apart when it comes to bastardising the English language. In the past few days alone I have heard them say "he shot from range" and "he shot from distance". No shit Sherlock.
Every shot is from range or distance; what actually needs to be determined is whether it's short range or from long distance. Even better why not try informing us of an estimate of the distance in, say, yards ... that seems as good a measurement as anything else.
And to top it off, when Robin van Persie skewed his shot wide of the post in Saturday's clash with Spurs, the commentator pointed out that the Dutch striker had missed by "...a margin". Sorry but I thought that was, in sporting parlance, a 'given'.
Of course he missed by a margin - and it's your role to tell us just how much of a margin it was.
This footie-speak is becoming anathema to me now and will soon result in something being hurled at the tv in the same way I previously launched a keyboard at the radio during my days on the sportsdesk one Saturday, when, for the umpteenth time that season, the local radio commentator claimed the ball had gone "straight into the goalkeeper's midrift".
Heaven help us...
Friday, October 23, 2009
Ooo, Ooo, there he is!
We live in a society in which the accusation of racism is often levelled at the police.
That's why I was disturbed by BBC's Question Time last night. Despite constant denials that the police force is 'inherently racist' thousands of constables were out in support of BNP leader Nick Griffin outside Television Centre.
Unashamedly they were still in uniform. And some even took to the skys in a helicopter to get a glimpse of Griffin. So interested were they that they hung around until well after everybody else had gone home.
Now that's far more worrying than Griffin...
That's why I was disturbed by BBC's Question Time last night. Despite constant denials that the police force is 'inherently racist' thousands of constables were out in support of BNP leader Nick Griffin outside Television Centre.
Unashamedly they were still in uniform. And some even took to the skys in a helicopter to get a glimpse of Griffin. So interested were they that they hung around until well after everybody else had gone home.
Now that's far more worrying than Griffin...
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Give 'Nasty Nick' his platform
I wholeheartedly support the BBC’s stance on allowing the BNP’s Nick Griffin to appear on today’s Question Time.
People have voted for this man and his party and while the majority of us may find his policies abhorrent and his followers odious, in a country which is supposed to believe in free speech, there is no room for censoring politics.
Cabinet minister Peter Hain has done himself little credit when referring to other parties as ‘democratic’. This IS democracy in action, as repulsive as it may be.
Griffin is a Euro MP. People voted for him – albeit people with the IQ of a whelk. His voice should be heard. To keep him off the programme would simply give him something else to bleat about, only on this occasion his stance would not be quite so ill-informed.
Let’s hear what he has to say. Then let everybody see what a foul, bigoted, narrow-minded individual he is. Albeit a reasonably articulate foul, bigoted, narrow-minded individual.
Personally I’m looking forward to it. I haven’t thrown anything at the telly since the closing credits of X Factor went up.
Check out Newsarse’s take on Question Time here "BNP supporters to overcome fear of ’speaking picture box"
People have voted for this man and his party and while the majority of us may find his policies abhorrent and his followers odious, in a country which is supposed to believe in free speech, there is no room for censoring politics.
Cabinet minister Peter Hain has done himself little credit when referring to other parties as ‘democratic’. This IS democracy in action, as repulsive as it may be.
Griffin is a Euro MP. People voted for him – albeit people with the IQ of a whelk. His voice should be heard. To keep him off the programme would simply give him something else to bleat about, only on this occasion his stance would not be quite so ill-informed.
Let’s hear what he has to say. Then let everybody see what a foul, bigoted, narrow-minded individual he is. Albeit a reasonably articulate foul, bigoted, narrow-minded individual.
Personally I’m looking forward to it. I haven’t thrown anything at the telly since the closing credits of X Factor went up.
Check out Newsarse’s take on Question Time here "BNP supporters to overcome fear of ’speaking picture box"
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Masterchef spin-off to hit screens over Halloween
Terry Wogan knows the popular cooking contest Masterchef by the name ‘Mastershout’.
It’s an accurate reflection, particularly of the way 45-year-old Cockney barrow-boy-turned-pillock Greg Wallace behaves.
We’d all like to be able to taste wonderful food for a living – and have a girlfriend 17 years younger come to think of it – but there’s no need to keep yelling everything in an attempt to remind us of how lucky he is.
“Cooking DOES NOT GET any tougher than this,” he bellows at the beginning of every episode.
It doesn’t get any more irritating either Greg. The chefs are hugely talented and even a culinary klutz such as your correspondent has learned something from catching the odd show while SWMBO tunes in.
But I end up just wanting to punch the guy. I’m sure his girlfriend – who is 17 years his junior by the way (wasn’t sure I made that clear earlier) – loves him dearly. But we know he’s not kind to animals because he invariably skins them and chucks them in a pot. And on that basis, I’m out.
And to make things worse we’re apparently going to see more of him as a spin-off show will hit our screens over Halloween weekend.
It’s called MasterShrek and it's designed to find the best ogre, in the same way Masterchef finds the best chef. Obviously there will be a culinary element to the show, otherwise Wallace wouldn't be involved.
Contestants must prepare their finest ogre cuisine, with such delights as eyeballs and worms being used as ingredients. That leads nicely on to the second challenge which is attempting to eat the dishes they've prepared without being ill.
It's amazing what the commissioning editors at the BBC will allow through these days. I mean, where the hell did they get that idea from...
It’s an accurate reflection, particularly of the way 45-year-old Cockney barrow-boy-turned-pillock Greg Wallace behaves.
We’d all like to be able to taste wonderful food for a living – and have a girlfriend 17 years younger come to think of it – but there’s no need to keep yelling everything in an attempt to remind us of how lucky he is.
“Cooking DOES NOT GET any tougher than this,” he bellows at the beginning of every episode.
It doesn’t get any more irritating either Greg. The chefs are hugely talented and even a culinary klutz such as your correspondent has learned something from catching the odd show while SWMBO tunes in.
But I end up just wanting to punch the guy. I’m sure his girlfriend – who is 17 years his junior by the way (wasn’t sure I made that clear earlier) – loves him dearly. But we know he’s not kind to animals because he invariably skins them and chucks them in a pot. And on that basis, I’m out.
And to make things worse we’re apparently going to see more of him as a spin-off show will hit our screens over Halloween weekend.
It’s called MasterShrek and it's designed to find the best ogre, in the same way Masterchef finds the best chef. Obviously there will be a culinary element to the show, otherwise Wallace wouldn't be involved.
Contestants must prepare their finest ogre cuisine, with such delights as eyeballs and worms being used as ingredients. That leads nicely on to the second challenge which is attempting to eat the dishes they've prepared without being ill.
It's amazing what the commissioning editors at the BBC will allow through these days. I mean, where the hell did they get that idea from...
Thursday, September 17, 2009
It was always thus
According to this morning's news on the BBC, industrial action has meant that around nine million items of post have been delayed by the Royal Mail.
It's good of them to tell us - how else would we have noticed..?
It's good of them to tell us - how else would we have noticed..?
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
And now for something completely different
Today is the 150th anniversary of the death of one of my heroes: Isambard Kingdom Brunel.
Obviously I never met him, though I have taken to wearing a stovepipe hat and growing mutton-chop whiskers. I draw the line at smoking cigars the size of Mother Teresa, however.
His work can still be seen today all over the south and west of England and his influence is tangible worldwide.
As a fellow son of Portsmouth I’m immensely proud of his achievements. Personally, I never quite mastered Meccano, so, as you can imagine, my admiration is boundless.
One date I missed, however – as it would seem did an awful lot of people – was the 40th anniversary of the first recording of the seminal Monty Python’s Flying Circus, which took place on September 7, 1969.
Maybe more will be made of the 40th anniversary of the first airing on October 5.
Python wasn’t of course universally popular when it launched. It seems bizarre now, but there were some in the BBC who were outraged by it.
And certainly there was no chance of me as a six-year-old being allowed to see it. Indeed, it wasn’t until I was well into my teens that I first watched an episode.
I would imagine I wasn’t alone. In those days there were things called long-playing records (LPs) and much of Python’s catalogue was released on this format allowing the crackly pirate recordings of same on cassette tape to be passed around my school with the same reverence as the centre-fold spread in a girlie magazine.
Live at Drury Lane even saw the use of the F-word – our parents would have been outraged. It was mainly the boys who were taken with this humour; girls didn’t seem to ‘get’ it. And, I fear, if SWMBO is an example of the modern female generation, nothing has changed in 40 years.
Now, the Oxbridge team who, along with the anarchic Goons changed the course of British comedy, are far from outrageous – indeed they have become mainstream. The DVD of the very first series carries a 12 rating.
Does this mean society has lower standards today? Or simply we’re more tolerant of irreverence? What it undoubtedly does mean is that 12-year-olds in 2009 are lucky little sods, because I never got to watch this sort of brilliance at the same age. When I was their age I was already 19!
But today’s 12-year-olds won’t want to see it. It’s not ‘in yer face’ enough; it requires too much thought; and a great deal of imagination.
Today’s 12-year-olds wouldn’t see anything funny in Pablo Picasso and Wassily Kandinsky producing a painting while cycling up the A3 past the Tolworth roundabout – yes, that classic was in the very first episode.
Closeted in my bedroom with my woolly old cassette player, Python introduced me to names I’d previously not heard of; it was an education: Picasso, Kandinsky, Henri Bergson, René Descartes, Sir Kenneth Clarke and Jack Bodell.
Python didn’t play to the lowest common denominator.
Forty years on the standards have indeed been lowered; but not socially, merely in the quality of comedy on offer.
I can’t imagine clandestine exchanges of VHS copies of My Family taking place in comprehensive schools nationwide, can you?
Obviously I never met him, though I have taken to wearing a stovepipe hat and growing mutton-chop whiskers. I draw the line at smoking cigars the size of Mother Teresa, however.
His work can still be seen today all over the south and west of England and his influence is tangible worldwide.
As a fellow son of Portsmouth I’m immensely proud of his achievements. Personally, I never quite mastered Meccano, so, as you can imagine, my admiration is boundless.
One date I missed, however – as it would seem did an awful lot of people – was the 40th anniversary of the first recording of the seminal Monty Python’s Flying Circus, which took place on September 7, 1969.
Maybe more will be made of the 40th anniversary of the first airing on October 5.
Python wasn’t of course universally popular when it launched. It seems bizarre now, but there were some in the BBC who were outraged by it.
And certainly there was no chance of me as a six-year-old being allowed to see it. Indeed, it wasn’t until I was well into my teens that I first watched an episode.
I would imagine I wasn’t alone. In those days there were things called long-playing records (LPs) and much of Python’s catalogue was released on this format allowing the crackly pirate recordings of same on cassette tape to be passed around my school with the same reverence as the centre-fold spread in a girlie magazine.
Live at Drury Lane even saw the use of the F-word – our parents would have been outraged. It was mainly the boys who were taken with this humour; girls didn’t seem to ‘get’ it. And, I fear, if SWMBO is an example of the modern female generation, nothing has changed in 40 years.
Now, the Oxbridge team who, along with the anarchic Goons changed the course of British comedy, are far from outrageous – indeed they have become mainstream. The DVD of the very first series carries a 12 rating.
Does this mean society has lower standards today? Or simply we’re more tolerant of irreverence? What it undoubtedly does mean is that 12-year-olds in 2009 are lucky little sods, because I never got to watch this sort of brilliance at the same age. When I was their age I was already 19!
But today’s 12-year-olds won’t want to see it. It’s not ‘in yer face’ enough; it requires too much thought; and a great deal of imagination.
Today’s 12-year-olds wouldn’t see anything funny in Pablo Picasso and Wassily Kandinsky producing a painting while cycling up the A3 past the Tolworth roundabout – yes, that classic was in the very first episode.
Closeted in my bedroom with my woolly old cassette player, Python introduced me to names I’d previously not heard of; it was an education: Picasso, Kandinsky, Henri Bergson, René Descartes, Sir Kenneth Clarke and Jack Bodell.
Python didn’t play to the lowest common denominator.
Forty years on the standards have indeed been lowered; but not socially, merely in the quality of comedy on offer.
I can’t imagine clandestine exchanges of VHS copies of My Family taking place in comprehensive schools nationwide, can you?
Friday, September 11, 2009
Is it me?
I can’t be alone in finding the timbre and inflection of Robert Peston’s voice irritating.
The BBC’s business editor pops up on all forms of the corporation’s digital platform – web, radio and TV – and on each occasion he comes on I find I lose interest in the subject matter because I’m constantly bewildered by the apparent arbitrary nature of his vocal chords.
I detest the rising inflection so beloved of teenagers because of their over-exposure to Aussie soap operas at an early age? I’m at a loss to understand why every sentence they utter should sound like a question?
You know what I mean – admittedly it doesn’t become too apparent in a blog, but we’ve all heard it?
But at least that’s only at the end of a sentence. Peston’s delivery pauses at inappropriate times, stresses words seemingly at random and never gives the impression he’s actually imparting a serious piece of news.
This morning for instance he was talking about the bosses of MG Rover, who awarded themselves an obscene £42m in salaries and bonuses before taking the company down the tubes with the loss of 6,500 jobs.
I know this because I saw it on the BBC website and not because of Peston. When he spoke on Radio 4 on the subject earlier today I once again found myself mesmerised my his erratic speech patterns while remaining largely ill-informed.
I wonder is there a society out there for like-minded Peston sufferers?
The BBC’s business editor pops up on all forms of the corporation’s digital platform – web, radio and TV – and on each occasion he comes on I find I lose interest in the subject matter because I’m constantly bewildered by the apparent arbitrary nature of his vocal chords.
I detest the rising inflection so beloved of teenagers because of their over-exposure to Aussie soap operas at an early age? I’m at a loss to understand why every sentence they utter should sound like a question?
You know what I mean – admittedly it doesn’t become too apparent in a blog, but we’ve all heard it?
But at least that’s only at the end of a sentence. Peston’s delivery pauses at inappropriate times, stresses words seemingly at random and never gives the impression he’s actually imparting a serious piece of news.
This morning for instance he was talking about the bosses of MG Rover, who awarded themselves an obscene £42m in salaries and bonuses before taking the company down the tubes with the loss of 6,500 jobs.
I know this because I saw it on the BBC website and not because of Peston. When he spoke on Radio 4 on the subject earlier today I once again found myself mesmerised my his erratic speech patterns while remaining largely ill-informed.
I wonder is there a society out there for like-minded Peston sufferers?
Thursday, September 10, 2009
You'll have to speak up a bit
More cynicism. I saw on BBC Breakfast Time this morning a piece about the medieval bells in St Lawrence Church, Ipswich, being rung today for the first time in 25 years.
We were informed that the 15th century bells would be heard for the first time in a quarter of a century later today…
Presumably then, everybody who was walking around Ipswich this morning at 7.20am and 8.20am and yesterday during the rehearsal, were issued with ear-protectors by the BBC to ensure they weren’t heard in advance.
Or maybe each of the clappers in the bells was wrapped in a large towel so only the campanologists could hear.
Or maybe I’m just a grumpy git with too much time on my hands in the morning…
We were informed that the 15th century bells would be heard for the first time in a quarter of a century later today…
Presumably then, everybody who was walking around Ipswich this morning at 7.20am and 8.20am and yesterday during the rehearsal, were issued with ear-protectors by the BBC to ensure they weren’t heard in advance.
Or maybe each of the clappers in the bells was wrapped in a large towel so only the campanologists could hear.
Or maybe I’m just a grumpy git with too much time on my hands in the morning…
Wednesday, September 02, 2009
Don't tick it then...
We do owe Tim Berners-Lee a great vote of thanks, for the internet he spawned is a great tool.
But sadly it’s also a hive of criminality, duplicity, depravity and, on a more prosaic level, a huge bank of disinformation and error. And I’m not just talking about Wikipedia here.
Take the recent case of the controversial mobile directory service 118 800. Somebody out there in the ether decided they didn’t like the idea of their mobile phone number being on a list somewhere so they crafted a falsehood that the BBC was encouraging people to complain about it or at the very least insist they went ex-directory.
It also claimed that it was ‘an invasion of privacy’, an ‘infringement on human rights’ and would lead to a plethora of companies ‘cold-calling’ mobile phone users. All of which is, quite frankly, ludicrous.
But like emails from Nigerian widows claiming to have pots of money to give away to UK citizens with bank accounts, or missives claiming ‘you’ are the lucky winner of the Lithuanian state lottery, some people are taken in by virals.
The fact is that the 118 800 service is merely an organic development from the telephone directory which first appeared in New Haven, US, in 1878. There wasn’t the availability of a viral campaign in those days, so it wasn’t possible to tap into people’s latent fears. That came with the launch of the Daily Mail in 1896.
For years people were quite happy to have their numbers listed in a telephone directory because they were under the impression it might aid somebody who wished to get in touch with them. The ex-directory option became more popular with the advent of cold calling, but it didn’t stop it entirely.
Now we all have mobile phones, so it was only a matter of time before a mobile phone directory was launched. What’s the difference? Why the uproar?
It is neither an invasion of privacy nor an infringement of human rights, for to be on the databases purchased by 118 800, a person must have, at some stage, somewhere, either ticked a box to allow their number to be passed on to a ‘select’ group of commercial partners or failed to tick the box stating they wished to be excluded from such an agreement.
As with insurance policies, holidays booked through Teletext, or shares in the Padstow Oil Company, the caveat always remains the same: read the small print. As my mother would have said, if she understood any of this new-fangled technology, “if it goes wrong don’t come running to me”.
And of course the last bit of misinformation is that those on the database – rumoured to be around 15 million – will be inundated by cold calls. Only if the company doing it is really bloody stupid will you…
The 118 800 service merely brokers the call rather than giving out the mobile phone number. The service costs £1 per number bought – so by the time they’ve made around 300 calls they could have bought their own database with 100 times that number of users.
See what I mean about disinformation? Basically, if you get a text message saying that a number or name you are unfamiliar with wishes to speak to you, don’t act on it. Rather like I don’t act on messages from O2 offering me an early bird opportunity to buy tickets for the Pussycat Dolls or some such non-entity.
The bottom line is that for a large section of the community, 118 800 is a valuable service. Controversial its June launch may have been but within a month it was the 111th most visited web brand in the UK with almost two million unique UK visitors. And they weren’t all trying to go ex-directory.
The furore wasn’t helped by people like London MEP Syed Kamall, who said: “This is one of many examples of breaches of privacy becoming commonplace. The government is sanctioning the construction of a mobile phone directory without anyone’s permission. It is wrong that decisions that affect us all are taken so lightly without a proper public debate.”
Tickboxes mate, that’s all I’ll say to you. Tickboxes. That’s all the ‘debate’ required.
The 118 800 service is currently still off-line but you can be sure it will return and will prosper. A similar service has been operating in Scandinavia for some years now with none of the public outcry we’ve experienced. But then again, scare-mongering isn’t quite as popular over there…
But sadly it’s also a hive of criminality, duplicity, depravity and, on a more prosaic level, a huge bank of disinformation and error. And I’m not just talking about Wikipedia here.
Take the recent case of the controversial mobile directory service 118 800. Somebody out there in the ether decided they didn’t like the idea of their mobile phone number being on a list somewhere so they crafted a falsehood that the BBC was encouraging people to complain about it or at the very least insist they went ex-directory.
It also claimed that it was ‘an invasion of privacy’, an ‘infringement on human rights’ and would lead to a plethora of companies ‘cold-calling’ mobile phone users. All of which is, quite frankly, ludicrous.
But like emails from Nigerian widows claiming to have pots of money to give away to UK citizens with bank accounts, or missives claiming ‘you’ are the lucky winner of the Lithuanian state lottery, some people are taken in by virals.
The fact is that the 118 800 service is merely an organic development from the telephone directory which first appeared in New Haven, US, in 1878. There wasn’t the availability of a viral campaign in those days, so it wasn’t possible to tap into people’s latent fears. That came with the launch of the Daily Mail in 1896.
For years people were quite happy to have their numbers listed in a telephone directory because they were under the impression it might aid somebody who wished to get in touch with them. The ex-directory option became more popular with the advent of cold calling, but it didn’t stop it entirely.
Now we all have mobile phones, so it was only a matter of time before a mobile phone directory was launched. What’s the difference? Why the uproar?
It is neither an invasion of privacy nor an infringement of human rights, for to be on the databases purchased by 118 800, a person must have, at some stage, somewhere, either ticked a box to allow their number to be passed on to a ‘select’ group of commercial partners or failed to tick the box stating they wished to be excluded from such an agreement.
As with insurance policies, holidays booked through Teletext, or shares in the Padstow Oil Company, the caveat always remains the same: read the small print. As my mother would have said, if she understood any of this new-fangled technology, “if it goes wrong don’t come running to me”.
And of course the last bit of misinformation is that those on the database – rumoured to be around 15 million – will be inundated by cold calls. Only if the company doing it is really bloody stupid will you…
The 118 800 service merely brokers the call rather than giving out the mobile phone number. The service costs £1 per number bought – so by the time they’ve made around 300 calls they could have bought their own database with 100 times that number of users.
See what I mean about disinformation? Basically, if you get a text message saying that a number or name you are unfamiliar with wishes to speak to you, don’t act on it. Rather like I don’t act on messages from O2 offering me an early bird opportunity to buy tickets for the Pussycat Dolls or some such non-entity.
The bottom line is that for a large section of the community, 118 800 is a valuable service. Controversial its June launch may have been but within a month it was the 111th most visited web brand in the UK with almost two million unique UK visitors. And they weren’t all trying to go ex-directory.
The furore wasn’t helped by people like London MEP Syed Kamall, who said: “This is one of many examples of breaches of privacy becoming commonplace. The government is sanctioning the construction of a mobile phone directory without anyone’s permission. It is wrong that decisions that affect us all are taken so lightly without a proper public debate.”
Tickboxes mate, that’s all I’ll say to you. Tickboxes. That’s all the ‘debate’ required.
The 118 800 service is currently still off-line but you can be sure it will return and will prosper. A similar service has been operating in Scandinavia for some years now with none of the public outcry we’ve experienced. But then again, scare-mongering isn’t quite as popular over there…
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
When good words go bad
I've decided the modern world is rubbish - at least when it comes to the English language.
Everything I was taught when I started out as a journalist now seems to be forgotten - and Samuel Pepys was a damned good lecturer.
For example, I was always told that despite its constant erroneous usage, the word 'myriad' is an adjective not a noun. For years I have subbed out 'a myriad of' to be replaced by simply 'myriad'.
Now, dictionaries are listing myriad as a noun, as well as an adjective, so common has the error become. And I'm not happy about it.
Likewise the constant use of 'try and' instead of 'try to' which is almost always the correct form. Some of the worst offenders are presenters and reporters on the BBC, who, quite simply, should know better.
And the same can also be said for broadcasters' use of 'due to' instead of 'because of' (or 'owing to') when not modifying a noun.
My first editor would turn in his grave; if he were dead that is . . . which he isn't. He lives on the Isle of Wight, which may be considered the same thing.
Yes, I know I'm a grammar pedant. And an anorak. And possibly even have too much time on my hands. But the English language is such a beautiful thing it seems a pity to allow sloppiness to ruin it.
Everything I was taught when I started out as a journalist now seems to be forgotten - and Samuel Pepys was a damned good lecturer.
For example, I was always told that despite its constant erroneous usage, the word 'myriad' is an adjective not a noun. For years I have subbed out 'a myriad of' to be replaced by simply 'myriad'.
Now, dictionaries are listing myriad as a noun, as well as an adjective, so common has the error become. And I'm not happy about it.
Likewise the constant use of 'try and' instead of 'try to' which is almost always the correct form. Some of the worst offenders are presenters and reporters on the BBC, who, quite simply, should know better.
And the same can also be said for broadcasters' use of 'due to' instead of 'because of' (or 'owing to') when not modifying a noun.
My first editor would turn in his grave; if he were dead that is . . . which he isn't. He lives on the Isle of Wight, which may be considered the same thing.
Yes, I know I'm a grammar pedant. And an anorak. And possibly even have too much time on my hands. But the English language is such a beautiful thing it seems a pity to allow sloppiness to ruin it.
*This rant can be considered an application for the BBC's excellent Grumpy Old Men
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