Occulomency

No more Lancashire Hotpot.

Sadly, Betty Driver (Betty Turpin from Coronation Street) has died aged 91.

If you want to read a sad story about show-biz mums, read her Wikipedia entry.

Happy Birthday, Mommy Dearest

"It's been a lovely evening" said Janet, but secretly she wondered why the Lord Xenu had taken to such transparent disguises. The answer was simple, his career had really hit the skids since Tom Cruise had taken over his PR. Posing as Bob Monkhouse in a silly hat was the only way he'd got any responses from match.com.

Moving on up.

"There are sacraments of evil as well as good about us, and we live and move to my belief in an unknown world, a place where there are caves and shadows and dwellers in twilight. It is possible that man may sometimes return on the track of evolution, and it is my belief that an awful lore is not dead."

Arthur Machen.

Of course, Machen never lived in Bestwood Village.

And as of Thursday, neither will we. All has gone smoothly apart from British Telecom, who, true to form, are completely obstructive bastards.

Anyhow, quote of the week goes to Martin Brundle during his pre-race grid walk in the run up last weekend's Bahrain Grand Prix.

Brundle found guitar hero Eric Clapton on the grid, and they are discussing Clapton's upcoming debut as a checkered flag waver.

Brundle asks Clapton is he has been practicing with the flag.

Clapton says "I'm not sure whether to hold it with one or two hands"

Brundle's response? "That's very topical at the moment."

He turns and walks away.

Godlike

By the way, ever wondered what Mosley's mum and dad looked like?

Oh those kookey Mitfords.....

'Allo 'Allo 'Allo

Look, I know that the Germans did some pretty bad things in the past, and that there is a long history of antipathy between the Germans and the rest of the world (apart from Austria....) but I read today that the British Government, through it's media arm, is exacting a cruel and unusual punishment on the German people that I think is unjustifiable in this supposedly enlightened age in which we live.

Yes, the BBC is selling it's sitcom equivalent of water-boarding, Allo Allo, to the poor unsuspecting defenceless Germans.

Poor bastards. I'm not sure anyone deserves that.

Seriously though, I am a little surprised by this. World War II is a sensitive subject amongst the Germans, and it is rarely mentioned in comedy form. In truth, there is little in Allo Allo to be offended at, although the portrayal of the SS and Gestapo as funny doesn't sit comfortably with me. Does showing the Gestapo as funny and incompetent without reference to it's true nature soften it's image in the eyes of the public? In my opinion, quite possibly.

I have always found Allo Allo to be a poor man's Dad's Army. It is at best a purile mix of endlessly repeated catchphrases, double entendres, national stereotypes and people talking in silly accents. However I understand that it is still rare to find German television broadcasting Heil Hitlers.

I think though, on balance, Allo Allo is mostly harmless. Trouble is you see, the fallen Madonna with the big boobies will always be funny.

May you live in interesting times......

I thought that working for a private company rather than for the Government would be different. I wasn't prepared for how different. Half of the UK staff got fired the other day, just gone. I'm still 'profitable' so they tell me, but with just 3 of us left... I imagine it's just a matter of time. Anyway, I am assured that for the next few months, I am safe.  We'll see, I've checked around and I have plenty of options, fortunately. If I get one more sniff of trouble, I'm jumping.

Anyhoo, the back bumper fell of my car at high speed on the M1 this afternoon. Totally destroyed, probably due to some friend of humanity collecting me in a servo without my knowledge. So it's been another legendary week.

I'm a Fraser. get me out of here.

BTW, Torchwood is bloody marvelous. Monkey-boy is dead, long live monkey-boy.

Red Wheels

OK, guess where I went for lunch.

Guess which engine I had my (delightful) cheese & pickle bap next to?

The weather was just bloody awful. Really really really bad. Probably the worst driving conditions I've ever come across. Ever.

20 down, six letters.

Greek God or a chicken from Italy?

Torchwood V2.1

Better. Not perfect, but no where near as bad as series one.

I like the idea that gap-toothed-welsh-bint spends most of the time locked up in a container, unable to speak or move. That was a very good idea and I hope we can see more of that. Actually, could we see the rest of the cast (apart from Capt Jack, obviously) in similar scenarios for the rest of the series? Please?

Oh yes, and James Marsters, the first r is superfluous, if you are from Surrey, apparently.

Like I said, better, hopefully they've fixed it, still a bit too self-consciously adult, but at least it didn't piss me off in the first 10 minutes like the first series did every week.

In short. There were some bombs, but they weren't really bombs,they were a diamond. But they weren't really a diamond, they were a bomb. And then they weren't.

Probably won't be able to come out to play tomorrow either. Shame, I'd been practising so I wouldn't continually go out first.

Baculum

I've been a bit slack again. This bloody cough has really kept me from sleeping, but I'm on the mend now. Going to Runcorn tomorrow and Epsom on Thursday, but other than that, no overnight away missions this week.

I got a nice e-mail today from Mother showing the lighthouse at Hunstanton in the late 1800s. This is of interest because of this piece of information I uncovered on Google Earth.

" The coast guard tower appears to be the Battery Observation Post of the Hunstanton Coast Defence Battery, whose other buildings have long since disappeared (gone over the cliff). Underground magazines are said to still exist. Alongside the BOP is a small Royal Naval style pillbox with horizontal small arms embrasures in each face. The coastguard tower appears to have a similar structure, with now blocked embrasures, vertical ones, and canopies to north and west."

Just to explain....

The lighthouse was built by Trinity House in 1844; the occulting light at the top of its 50ft tower could be seen up to 16 miles out to sea. When the lighthouse ceased operations in 1921 the light was removed, and the tower became refreshment rooms, and subsequently a gunnery and observation station during the Second World War. Sold in 1996, it can now be hired as a holiday home.

There, everybody is right.

George Gilbert Scott

Many years ago I used to regularly travel to London by train in order to be disliked by a bloke who lived in Teddington.

St Pancras was the gateway to London. Trains from Nottingham would shudder to a stop beneath the cracked and blackened arch of the train shed roof and we'd shuffle out and down into the pit of hell that was the Kings Cross / St Pancras tube station. There was nothing much to see apart from the unmanned ticket office and a WH Smiths that seemed to offer only out of date copies of Razzle.

But once you'd got out into the fresh London air, there was all the majesty of the nation's Capital spread out before you - traffic chaos, 27 bureaus de change, 57 people with dogs on a bit of string asking for change and a fine choice of McDonalds from which to sample culinary delights.

Now it's all bright and beautiful. cars are banned, they've painted St Pancras and you can get on a train at Nottingham (which is still a backward pit) and step into the light, 5 hours later, in Paris.

Trouble is, it seems that instead of being excited about this amazing peice of regeneration and engineering, the news services are just whinging on about the cost and that it's a white elephant and moan moan moan moan moan...

They said the same about the Humber Bridge, but it is one of the most magnificent structures in the world if you go and stand next to it, or even better drive over the bloody thing. It's incredible. So is the train shed at St Pancras. get on a train and go and look at it. It is magnificent. The train shed was designed by William Henry Barlow. At the time it was the largest single span constructed anywhere in the world, at 243-foot (74 metres) the span is extraordinary, forming the widest and largest undivided space ever enclosed at that time.

The Times said 'The skeletal transparency of the ferrovitreous vault adds a futuristic, magic dimension to the stunning space, especially as the vault is made to spring from the platform level where the passengers stand'

The high Gothic exterior was designed by George Gilbert Scott, a chap who  started out designing workhouses (including Southwell), but he became friends with Pugin (probably the greatest of Victorian English acrhitects) and then Scott's brilliance began to really shine through. He did the Albert memorial and Lanhydrock House along with a load of churches, schools and the like. But his masterpiece is St Pancras.

At this point I should say thanks to Sir John Betjeman.

On a completely different subject, I got collared the other day by one of those nice ladies with a clipboard to ask my opinions on things, and it reminded me of the Yes Prime Minister sketch where Sir Humphrey is explaining to Bernard about how opinion polls work. They were asking me about immigration, which is ironic as I am effectively an immigrant here myself. But the questions were leading to a conclusion that I couldn't support. The way they do this is quite clever. The Yes Prime Minister example is about conscription. The premis is that by asking the correct questions in a certain order you can manipulate the polled to say what you want them to say. it goes something like this:

A nice young lady comes up to you, obviously you want to create the right impression, you don't want to look a fool, so the questions begin:

Are you worried about the number of young people without jobs?

Yes.

Are you worried about the rise in crime amongst teenagers?

Yes.

Do you think that our schools lack discipline?

Yes.

Do you think that young people benefit from some level of authority and leadership in their lives?

Yes.

Do you think young people rise to a challenge?

Yes.

Would you be in favour of re-introducing National Service?

Ah......

Well, of course after all you've just said in answer to the previous questions it's hard to say no to the last one isn't it?

Lets try again.

Are you wooried about the danger of war?

Yes.

Are you worried about the growth in armaments and radicalism?

Yes.

Do you think it's dangerous to give young people guns and teach them how to kill?

Yes.

Do you think it's wrong to force people to take up arms against their will?

Yes.

Would you oppose the re-introduction of National Service?

Ah......

There you go, the perfect balanced sample.

Joking aside, this is effectively what the young lady doing the opinion poll did. Opinion polls really can't be trusted (67% of people think that...)

Ah well, back to work for me then. Oh yes, and my head/neck are finally better.

Ali G in da House.

Some days you(s) just shouldn't wake up......

The phone went at 2.30 am (possible prank call), and due to the steroids I'm on to combat this gland thing, I couldn't get back to sleep. At all.

The Prof departed to Liverpool for her (well earned) weekend off, and I thought "I know I'll take the kids to Sherwood Forest", autumnal colours, leaves to play in, you know the whole world turning golden shebang.

Sadly for reasons too complex to explain here, I couldn't get in to the car parks.

So I thought, "I'll take the kids to see Mum, one phone call later, and with the understanding that she would be at the shops when we arrived, and the keys would be in a pre-arranged location, I happily   turned up there at about 11ish.

Kids in the house and me nipping back to the car for a bag was where I came unstuck. Alistair shut the front door. It locked.

Through the letter-box I saw Jools head straight up the stairs, Alistair followed instructions to keep an eye on her, and all was stable for half an hour or so, me watching through the letterbox talking to Alistair.

Then Jools decided she had been upstairs long enough, and made concerted efforts to break the Alistair blockade. Cue me, and expensive stained glass window (small pane though) and a tyre iron.

Mum was very understanding when she turned up 15 minutes later, I was shaken. The kids are fine.

All is well now in the house of Levey.

But honestly I'll never forget the sound of that bloody front door clicking shut.