h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

As I suspected, SATTC was a total damp squib - the only potential futureshock to emerge from the Helen storyline was the possibility that Ian may have been the turkey-baster loader, and as regards plummetting Nigel... OK, so soapland anniversaries equate with death; nothing new there, but 'shake Ambridge to the core', and have long term implications - well, not shaken not stirred, and pretty much any event in a soap, and in real life, might have long term implications, in the sense of for the want of a nail... the battle was lost.

Mustardlandard cordially detest Bless-Whitty, and I can understand why. She might respond that for all their yowling about unlikely dramatic developments when they're happening, the listeners quickly adapt to the fall-out and appreciate the new possibilities opened up (if not explicitly, then by a longer-term process of internalisation and ultimate acceptance) - i.e. they don't like the travelling but they quite like being there once they've been got, kicking and screaming all the way, there.

Maybe. But that does not excuse the monstrous puffery of what turned out to be a damp squib - a ham-fistedly written farrago, an empty shirt, a monstrous great big anti-climax topped off with a Wilhelm scream http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wilhelm_scream

Bless-Whitty should be promoted into a career in television ASAP.

Anyhow, we went to the Broch yesterday, but managed to avoid the doom music. Anent doom music, I left the Broch with a free Daily Mail CD of Rod Stewart's Atlantic Bridge. I have no Rod in my collection and was interested to hear it. It wasn't too bad - instrumentally a mess and vocally sloppy, kinda like a Ronnie Wood/Ringo Starr collaboration with slightly better vox.

We watched a DVD last night - Network (Dunaway, Duvall, Finch &c). It was one of those good intelligent late 70s/early 80s US flicks that preceeded the descent in to cretinousness (is that a word?). There was a some conspiracy therory stuff in it that would appeal to Dagesh, and I commend it to him...

Back to Uni work today - specifically, the Gloag and Henderson new edition, for which I have an end of may deadline. Susan is at the shop, stocktaking. G will be arriving for cawffee in a while.

It is raining outside. The snow has all gone and the plants out backie look battered.

Right, I have to type this anyway, so here goes,

In the Broch: My mother was talking about choir practice at the academy in the late 40s/early 50s. She said that although hymns were practiced, the actual hymn words were not sung as it was deemed blesphemous to do so any day other than a Sunday. So the choir rehearded using alternative lyrics, which were never sung in church. She quoted one set - the alternative words for Oh for a Thousand Voices:

There was an auld seceder cat
And it was unco grey
(Repeat)
It took a moose intae the kirk
Upon the sabbath day.
(Repeat)

They took it to the Session
Fa it rebuked sair
(Repeat)
And made it promise faithfully
Tae dae the same nae mair
(Repeat)

And noo each sabbath day it sits
Like some auld cluckin' hen
(Repeat)
And canna understand at aa'
The wyes o mice and men
(Repeat)

Spanish omlette for tea.


Douglas

Love the not-hymn lyrics. Best New Year wishes to you, Susan and your mother.

Just back from the West of Scotland, where there is still a fair bit of snow and ice around.

PJ's OH

Same back atcha, plus PJ also.

I am down west this coming Sunday - Tuesday; Irvine then Glesca.


Douglas