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CBeebies news

New Andy Pandy littered with sex references

I used to have a rubber Andy Pandy doll.

But all the stuffing leaked out.

Potentially lethal dangerous website

Don't even think of going to Telly Years, there is a real risk that you may never get those hours of your life back.

I had quite forgotten that, in the days before Channel 4, and thus S4C, Pobol Y Cwm was on BBC1 - Radio Times - December 1979

What I did last night

Stayed in and watched TV.

Logistically perfect planning. During the afternoon, Ernani was taped, to be watched at some unspecified later date.

Next up - after eating, an important consideration - was 28 Days Later. I'm not a fan of horror films, on the whole, but I did find this worthwhile. I'm loath to say enjoyable, because it was gruesome in places, but I would say the plot hung together, the dialogue was not too cliched, and there was just about enough characterisation. Not the greatest film of all time, but one I would definitely give a thumbs up to.

After that we definitely needed Britian's Best SitCom. The programme showed clips from the Top 50, here is a list of 11-100. Of the 'bottom' 50, Desmonds and Black Books, in my opinion, are sorely under-rated. Jimmy was convinced Desmonds would be Top Ten. The actual Top Ten is here. I would expect that Only Fools and Horses is odds-on favourite, but I actually can't stand Fools and Horses, so I am currently debating between casting my vote for Blackadder or Yes Minister/Yes Prime Minister. The latter because of the tremendous insight it gave into the British Civil Service, which I subsequently discovered to be accurate. The former for Baldrick, and if for no other reason, as pointed out on the programme, that amazingly pathos of that closing scene in Blackadder Goes Forth

Instead of having Blackadder succeed in his quest, had him and his men forced to join the advance and fulfil their fears by going 'over the top' to their deaths. This grim image, the frame frozen and then dissolving into one depicting the same field full of poppies, memorably ended the series on a note of dark satire and was a fitting conclusion to a comedy premise that had always sported an underlying intelligence beneath its farcical surface.

which is almost certainly the only time I have wept at a comedy programme.

Throughout the three hour showcase, I realised that I laughed most at the slapstick-type clips. I've heard that laughing at slapstick is an unusually British character-trait. An hon mensh should go to Frank Spencer, of course.

Jimmy commented that people have compared him and his Dad to Steptoe and Son. In measured, neutral tones I replied that I couldn't imagine why.

I have very personal reasons for hating The Vicar of Dibley

Of course, like its precursors, the 100 Great Britains, and the Great Read, this exercise is guaranteed to piss off a substantial amount of people. I am almost certain that anyone reading this will experience strong disagreement with at least something I have said. I am prepared to give this exercise more time than the previous two, because the previous two were about far more serious subjects, and the results said something - something slightly uncomfortable - about this nation. However, with sitcoms, it's such a tiny part of the cultural tapestry, although terribly important on one level, so I will be prepared to accept the results, and even acknowledge Delboy to be a great cultural icon, and the famous falling through the bar flap scene as being one of the great moments of comedy.

What's your favourite sitcom?

Friday

You know me, I have pretensions to snobbery. Which, really, is worse, in some respects, than actually being a snob. (Although Warren at work did call me a snob today, in fact he was horrible to me all day, until I started moaning, then he started on Yim, who only joined us this week so I said - look, see what I said, Warren's a really horrible person* - he called me a snob because I said I was in Argos to buy a Sony DVD player, not Elizabeth Duke jewellery. He'd already said that he was surprised that I lowered myself to Argos).

For years I absolutely refused to get satellite telly. Four-and-a-half channels is good enough for me, I said. Who needs all the rubbish that's pumped out to the unthinking masses in the name of entertainment but really so that Rupert Murdoch can control their minds. (I still have a ring binder dating from the Wapping Dispute with stickers on saying 'Boycott Murdoch'.)

It hurt, it really hurt, to get satellite. A dish (think Lady Bracknell, think handbag) on my twee Victorian cottage - ooh, my neighbour got listed yesterday, I live next to a listed building (how swanky is that!). But the things we do for love, heh! I did it for Jimmy. I made it absolutely clear to the mockers and scorners at work, that I would only watch the intellectual channels - and Manchester United Live, of course.

And you know what, the intellectual channels are proving to be just wonderful. I haven't actually watched Discovery, or the History Channel yet. Who needs them? I'm addicted to Performance and Artsworld. (And yes, they are in rivalry with each other - why else would both of them show the Nutcracker, with the Bolshoi, at the same time the Wednesday before Christmas? Why, if Artsworld is doing a Verdi Chronology in January and February, are Performance showing Otello next Monday and Un Ballo in Maschera the Monday after?)

I was surfing through the Radio Times at work at lunchtime, and, as I announced to the world, the only *good* thing on telly tonight is Victoria Wood on Diets. As those who have met me will know, I don't do diets. Then I corrected myself and pointed out that Jim Davidson's commercial breakdown was on. Someone mentioned hanging, then someone else mentioned a gas chamber. (For those of you outside the UK who don't know who Jim Davidson is - he's a racist, sexist, obnoxious, right-wing, unfunny, twunt who passes himself off as a comic and always goes to entertain 'Our Boys' in a warzone poor sods think yourself lucky.)

So I declared that I would go shopping this evening. But you know me, I reject shopping-as-a-hobby as the work of Satan, so it was into Markles and Sparkles, find black suit, try on, pay for, whilst glaring childishly at the model on the leaflet for the new M&S card. Then quick dash round downstairs, pick up some tops, ostensibly for work, but probably unsuitable with those necklines, and home within two hours of leaving the office. (I'm told I shop like a man!)

Er, nothing on telly, what shall I do. Switch telly on. ooh, look, there's a concert on Performance. So I watched it. Well, I can quite honestly say that it's the first time I have seen in a concert, televised or live, a conductor walk off the podium halfway through a piece, with a microphone in hand, and go and stand with the audience, singing.

And now, I've just remembered I need to eat, so I shall bid you goodnight. Once I've checked my commas, of course. And my html tags. Which are truly evil things - BTW wasn't it cool that Tim Berners-Lee got his K, finally. I've been saying for years that he should. My next tip is Dame Delia Smith. Don't forget you read it here first.

This post has been brought to you with more deviations than a Ronnie Corbett monologue.

You know, this blog used to have rants on it...

* he's not really

Audio Visual technology

I'm off work today because my new TV was being delivered.  Pathetically, and I'm ashamed to say it, but I had to wait for my man to finish work to get it set up ie lifted onto the shelf in the living room. It was a bit of a battle finding a widescreen TV that fitted on the 44 cm shelf that makes up a vital feature of my pre-Victorian cottage.

I also bought a DVD player yesterday. I now have the TV set up, which took some doing. There's probably as many wires in the below-the-TV cupboard as there is behind the computer. And try as I might, there simply isn't the flexibility to do everything I want to do. I want to be able to have the sky box going straight to the TV and through the video. I want the video to be able to go straight to the TV and receive straight from the aerial. And I want the DVD to do straight to the TV.  I shall have to get a SCART lead for that. Plus I need a new SCART lead for the Sky box because the one that Sky supplied is rubbish. It keeps coming out of the back of the skybox, and is cracked. Then I thought the TV wasn't working, and it turns out that it's the SCART connection into the TV. *Sigh*. I really don't like SCARTs. Maybe it's just me, but they seem technologically more ante-diluvian than the parallel ports thatused to come with PCs.

My colleague said yesterday that I would hug my TV when it arrived, then take a photo, but I'm too exhausted even to set up the DVD player. Even though I have a wonderful DVD which my mother got me for Christmas which has been partly played on the computer. Reviews of Otello performed and interview

Mind you, I watched Balamory, which I have never seen before, but I kept saying "Been there!" "Been there" 

And Abbado's currently conducting the Berlin PO in Dvorak's New World Symphony. It's like being there. The sound is even better than the picture.

Scheduling

It used to be the thing, when I were young, that the two major TV Channels used to pursue a strategy of deliberately going head-to-head in their TV schedules. Most memorable was the decision on Bank Holiday Mondays for both BBC and ITV included circuses at the same time. Not that I ever wanted to watch one circus, let alone two. It was even more ludicrous when both channels used to show, not only the FA Cup Final, but also four hours of talk and build-up.

BBC2/Channel 4 seemed to have abandoned their Friday night comedy head-to-head. Even then, although it was in an inyerface attempt to outdo each other, it could hardly be argued that Friends and Have I Got News For You were appealing to the same precise demographic.

In an era of multiple channels, it is impossible to avoid clashes. Tomorrow night, I could watch Sleeping Beauty on Artsworld or Manchester United v West Brom on Sky Sports. I would be mocked, and rightly, if I complained.

Artsworld covers - unsurprisingly - the Arts. Monday night is opera, Tuesday is obscure foreign language films etc. Performance features footage of live performances - a mixture of classical and pop, but focusing more on Frank Sinatra/Tom Jones than 50 Cent and Westlife?

Last night Artsworld showed The Magic Flute. Performance showed Don Giovanni. Both of these are by Mozart.

If you consider the number of people with digital Tv in this country. And consider how many of them are opera fans, which I suspect is a fairly small intersect. Further consider what proportion have the time to sit down on a Monday night (Or this specific Monday night) to watch an opera on the TV (2 and a half to 3 hours). You're not talking about a particularly large number of people. I can't help thinking that there was deliberate planning to put these two against each other in a petty little power struggle for ratings, pouring scorn on the little people who, conceivably, might want to watch both, and self-destructively, pretty much guaranteeing to halve their potential audience. Unless it's an even more cynical ploy, and the result of arm-twisting by the evil Murdoch empire to ensure that the target demographic, probably one with a fairly high disposable income, feels compelled to shell out even more money to Sky-plus.

Unbridled capitalism is pernicious.

ClassicCarCrash

A couple of weeks back I had a satellite dish and digibox installed, unwillingly but with a sense of having to bow to the inevitable.

(You know, isn't it weird how people complain about having to pay £112 per year for a TV licence to receive TV programmes, yet nobody seems to complain about the compulsion to pay at least £150 a year to receive digital TV.)

I knew already that there was endless amounts of drivel dressed up as entertainment: decorate you house this way - it's the key to happiness; look into the life of this 'celebrity' and yearn for their glamour; do this diet, dress this way, have this lifestyle. It's all bollocks, but if the sheeple want to fall for it, that's alright by me.

Since getting the satellite package, it has been mainly used for a clearer picture on terrestrial TV. A few episodes of the Simpsons , and two football matches - Manchester United and England. On Saturday night we saw My Big Fat Greek Wedding via Sky Box Office, but also watched LA Confidential on BBC1.

I have subscribed to the Arts Channel, and wish I had more time to watch it properly. Some other channels have their moments of brilliance, although I am puzzled why the only history worth covering seems to be WWII ad nauseam.

But amongst the brilliant, the good, the mediocre, and the dross, one channel stands out supreme:

Classic FM TV

I will freely admit to never having been a fan of Classic FM on the radio, whilst I also acknowledge that if it didn't exist someone would have to invent it.

It's probably me being a total snob.

I can't stand a certain demographic Above all else, they're aspirational. But not in any positive sense. They are economically in a higher social class than their parents were, but they forgot to get the education to go with it. Naturally, they live in faceless identikit suburban estates, because the city or the country is too eclectic or bohemian and requires one to be an individual. They will generally read the Daily Mail, not especially for its politics, but for its aspirational lifestyle. If they vote, which they probably only do at general elections, they will vote for the party they perceive as being the winner. They think they are above going on holiday to a Spanish Costa, so might go to Cuba, but only to an all-inclusive in Varadero, and it never crosses their mind that it isn't the real Cuba. In a sense it doesn't matter where they go, because wherever it is, the parallels with other abroad places will always be highlighted. After all, abroad is abroad, and can be all lumped together in a not-England way (because, obviously, once you've spent a week in Portugal, you're bound to know the customs of a Greek island...) They drink Chardonnay.

They're comfortable with Classic FM. By listening to it they can comfort themselves that they are cultured. And yet they don't have to think too much, it can be nicely spoon-fed to them, and they can buy the Classic FM compilation albums, safe in a hermetic bubble, not running the risk of anything challenging or atonal, or some of those ghastly operas with their stories of carnal lust, incest, revenge and murder, or long passages of narrative or recitative where not a lot happens, or the boredom of actually sitting through a whole symphony, which have whole movements that haven't been used in adverts.

I have a ghastly CD in front of me now which uses the phrase 'made famous' entirely inappropriately, as in:

Dvorak New World Symphony - Largo (excerpt) - made famous by the Hovis TV commercial
Grieg Morning (Peer Gynt) - made famous by the Nescafe TV commercial
Rachmaninov Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini (Variation 18) - made famous by the movie Groundhog Day
Verdi Anvil Chorus (Il Trovatore) - made famous by the Wranglers TV commercial.

I could go on, but won't; suffice to say that every single one of them was extremely famous long before TV advertising, or indeed, TV. This stupidity is aimed specifically at Classic FMers - too lazy, too stupid to look beyond a spoon-fed nice tune. And when I say ghastly, I mean the presentation and packaging, not the actual music.

Classic FM TV is close to being car-crash TV - so bad you have to watch. It's an endless loop of videos interspersed with adverts.

But remember, born from a radio station for the stupid, this is television for the stupid. Rather than having footage of an orchestra, bought from, say, the archives of Czech or Latvian State TV, they have videos. I think these are specially filmed, either for Classic FMTV, or as general promotional videos.

Having had my bath, we were channel flicking, and I suggested Classic FMTV. I explained to Jimmy that if he hung around for half an hour he would see a violinist with long hair done up to look sexy, a video containing some drama with no connection to the music, and Bryn Terfel.

The first that came on was some piano music, I don't know what, I was entirely distracted by the shots of the long-haired tarted up pianist interspersed with shots of her, or a similar looking woman, climbing a staircase.

Then there was the absolutely dreadful video of Lara St John and Goldberg 2. Trust me, it's a sexed up violinist, with a bit of, oh, I don't know, some sort of irrelevancy in the background. Truly horribilised. You can read an account here but it fails to capture the sheer stupidity of the orange pieces of silk material, and the dimly lit men with rippling torsos.

Next up was Bryn Terfel singing Shenandoah. Now, don't get me wrong - I have nothing against Bryn Terfel, but I think this is a dull song sung in a rather dull manner. I love the collection of Handel Arias I have in my collection. It's just that I think that Classic Fm, and, especially its TV channel is so celebrity driven, that maybe they think we will turn off if we don't get Bryn every half an hour. I didn't stick around for the compulsory Kennedy, Vanessa-Mae and Joshua Bell.

End of an era...

I had to watch it. For years it was part of my life. That familiar tune, and the views of the Mersey. Amazing ground breaking TV. I hand you over to my colleague, Diamond Geezer for the authoritative blog on Brookie. I stopped watching it when Anthony Murray started having nightmares about killing Imelda the Bully.

But I switched on for the final episode. Nearly twenty years of my life. From Damon and Debbie, through the Jordaches, right up to 2002.

What an amazing twenty years of telly.

What a cracking ending.

Jimmy Corkhill, we salute you. In our dotage we will say: "They don't make them like Jimmy Corkhill.

Bravo to Dean Sullivan!

You know, there's a little tear behind my eye.

Do they show old Brookie on that there satellite telly what I'm getting this weekend?

Susceptible to advertising?

Channel four's new offering How Clean Is Your Home? has the promise of being really quite compulsive viewing. Like A Life of Grime, it can simultaneously nauseate you, and comfort you that your mess is trivial.

As the commercial break opened, I noted that the first ad was for Dyson. Luckily, I had my Dyson handy, and during the break I Dysoned the hall floor and half the staircase. In subsequent breaks, including those in ER, the entire staircase, including the bits at the side and the angle between riser and tread, were thoroughly vacuumed.

A psychologist would say I was susceptible to advertising.

Did you know that housework burns off 200 calories an hour? Isn't that brilliant exercise?

Many many many many years ago when I was nowt but a nipper*, I lived in Southend. It was boring. I spent my Sunday evenings listening to the Network Chart, sponsored by an instant coffee manufacturer. Every time the jingle played, I felt the urge to go the kitchen and make myself a coffee. But it wasn't Nescafe.

So an advertising-type-person would call me a nightmare. Ask me what was advertised during those commercial breaks, I don't know...I was Dysoning.

I really don't like the sponsor sequences that act as parentheses to ER. Here we are, Carter, Weaver, Gallant, Chen, Abby and the rest wrestling with gut-wrenchingly emotional crises. Then, abruptly, it's interruped by a bunch of Saps and their pathetic Volvo WD40s.

Of course, back in those days, I should have made more use of those Sunday afternoons by going for walks along the estuary shore and into the hills. I was once driven through Burnham-on-Crouch and Maldon on the way to a quiz night in Chelmsford. I thought they were nice, but never returned.

*well, about twenty-two, actually

Boring diary catch up thing

Over the weekend I was terribly domesticated. but I created a little Notepad document of titles for things that I must blog. (I have the pleasure of an extended Bank Holiday - today is a day off for Queen Victoria's Birthday).

On Sunday Jimmy went off to B&Q and bought the last remaining undamaged box of Beech laminate flooring. This enabled him to laminately floor the whole front room except for a three inch strip on the hall/door side.

My other boxes are still seemingly lost in transit. Parcelforce were supposed to call me today, but haven't. (All your kind comments gratefully received).

 But not to worry, they will be required when we move into the hallway (which measures 1 doorway squared) and the back room. In the meantime, there will be hell to pay.

I didn't watch Eurovision and so far have not watched BB4. I gave up last year when I realised that they were a bunch of dull egoists. When I read that this year not one is above the age of 32, and I read round the Blogosphere that they are dullards, I say "Purlease" and conclude that Big Brother has dumbed-down.

I don't need reality TV, I have your blog to read.

Kids TV Themes

Answers required, please:

1 This is 29 Arcacia Road
2 Lets ride, with the family down the street
3 Wait and see…who's on? Find out, stay tuned, ok, lets go!
4 There's a voice that keeps on calling me, down the road that's where I'll always be
5 Bouncing here and there and everywhere, high adventures that's beyond compare
6 Your letter was only the start of it, one letter and now you're a part of it
7 Switch off your TV set and do something less boring instead
8 Sunny day, Sweeping the clouds away
9 You can run with us, weve got everything you need
10 Making good use of the things that we find, things that the everyday folks leave behind
11 He's the strongest, He's the quickest, He's the best
12 Why don't you carry on, with what your doing
13 Here I come to save the day
14 When your world looks kind of weird and you wish that you weren't there
15 Dance you cares away, worry's for another day
16 So if your not at ease with your noboly knees and your fingers are all thumbs
17 You can knock it you can rock it you can go to Timbuktu
18 If your mansion house needs haunting just call
19 Here are the people who would say hello, goodbye, hello, goodbye
20 Down at the bottom of the garden, among the birds and the bees
21 Have you ever, ever felt like this when strange things happen
22 It's a whole lot of fun, prizes to be one
23 Oh come with me to the rolling see where the weather is calm and still
24 Up above the streets and houses
25 he's the one and only truly original

NB: some of the spelling is dodgy in here - apologies, but not my doing.

Oh pur-lease

Reportedly, Thomas the Tank Engine can make children scared of going on trains.

When I was a kid, I was scared of going up hills, especially to fetch a pail of water, knowing, as I did, that Jack fell down and broke his crown, and Jill came tumbling after.

I was also scared of pretending to be a dog whilst laughing at cows jumping over the moon, because I was convinced it would cause the dish to run away with the spoon. And that would have been intolerable.

Oh, alright, I see it now. Alll the crashes in Thomas the Tank Engine are bound to make children fearful of getting on trains.

Black Lace - my part in their success

Scaryduck's comment in the previous post but one reminds me it is time for me to tell of one of my less praiseworthy contributions to World Peace, Mental Health and General Joy.

Namely, How I Helped to Make Black Lace the Global Superstars and Party Regulars they are today.

It all started innocently enough. As a teenager I listened to Piccadilly Radio, the commercial radio station serving the Greater Greater Manchester area. A radio station that spawned, amongst others, Andy Peebles, Garry Davies, Timmy Mallet, Chris Evans, Steve Penk, Richard Keys, Mark Radcliffe and Tery Christian (and The Word).

There was also a presenter called Dave Ward. In the 80s he was very popular. (I last heard of him five years ago d-j-ing in a Blackpool pub). He used to host the 11-2 at night programme . There were certain traditions associated with this, best summed up by the jingle

Under the Bedclothes with Cuddly Dave. Everyone knows he's a bit of a rave. Bedsocks and garters and Terry the Tug. Nookie and birthdays and records he'll plug. Eleven to two in this we will revel Because we all know he's a dirty old devil.

One of the traditions was flashing. When Dave gave you the nod, you had to flash your bedroom lights and look out to see whether your neighbours were flashing theirs, then ring up to say. Nevile started going out in the Flash Van to look for people to flashing. This grew into gatherings at an announced phonebox.

He very much welcomed contributions from listeners. I was a very frequent contributor - probably in the Top 5 - to the extent that I knew my letters would also be read out on other shows, because I was "Gerry from Sale - she's not a fella".

One of the traditions was horizontal dancing. At ten to midnight a dance record would come on and you had dance to it, in bed. Again, the onus was on the listeners to find obscure records and send them in, then other listeners would demand they be played again and again. One such was "The Joker" by Phil Charles. This was on more or less every other day, prompting Black Lace to record a version and call it Superman.

When it was riding high in the charts, Peter Powell stated on Radio One that it was selling well because of a "strange dance fashion in the North of England..."

So if you ever wanted to know the history of Black Lace's Superman, there you have it.

Sunday night telly

To find out what I thought of the Project, just click and scroll

Oh, I'll save you the bother:

As a Labour activist I was looking forward to a drama featuring history and events I could identify with. As a grassroots member, I was looking forward to the dissing of the "Millbank Tendency". I turned off after forty five minutes, bored by the two-dimensional characters and stilted dialogue.
Geraldine, UK

We watched 50 places to see before you die. I had feared it would be excruciating but it turned out not to be. I did have a momentary panic when Number50 was Bora Bora and I thought they meant Tora Bora! I have to confess there were places  I had not even heard of. There were other places that I would go to if offered free tickets or if I won the proverbial lottery, but otherwise I wouldn't want to.

As we watched and spectacular places - most notably the Great Barrier Reef and the Grand Canyon - Jimmy was saying "Oh you'd love to go there and take photos. " Possibly, but what can I do to improve the vast wealth of photos that already exist of such places? I don't have the resources to return day-after-day, and in all seasons to capture the definitive photograph.

Just before we watched it, I was looking through some old photo albums. About eight years ago I decided that I would journal every aspect of my life photographically. I have some incredibly boring photographs of Basingstoke and Chessington South stations. And some surprisingly interesting ones of my desk at the time.

For me, the most fascinating ones of are people. Some of the most boring are of when Helen and I toured round Ireland. We saw the most gorgeous scenery, and had a ball, but, I think, my mojo was missing.

When I look at other people's weblogs, I find it fascinating to look at photos of the blogger. When I first started blogging, I was determined not to publish photos of myself. I feared that my appearance would be ridiculed. But the more blogs I see, the more I see people who do not conform to media stereotypes of what is beautiful. I find it refreshing to see fat people. I find it refreshing to see ugly people. I see very few classic beauties/hunks.  I see a great number of people who, when you look at them as a whole, are ordinary looking, or vaguely pretty, or even tending to the quite attractive. But you see that person when their eyes shine, or when they give that smile. Well, it's rather refreshing.